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Aziraphale’s collection of objects was his sunken treasure. He loved to collect things he found around the ocean and then find that perfect spot to display it in his hidden grotto. It was his own little slice of heaven, and, as bonus points, it provided a safe space to get away from the others. He didn’t like them very much.

You see, Aziraphale was a bit of an oddity among the merfolk. For one, he was interested in humans. That’s what a lot of his treasures were; human trinkets picked out of sunken ships that were caught in storms or fights with other ships. The others scorned the humans, thinking them their archenemies as they continued to hunt for fish in their waters, stealing their friends away to their doom. Well, friends was a relative term. The others call them friends, but Aziraphale knew they’re more like subjects trapped under the merfolk’s rule. He tried to be nicer to them to make up for everyone else.

As if that wasn’t enough, Aziraphale was also scorned for his looks. He was not quite as slim and well cut as the others, and he’s definitely never been as fit as Gabriel. Gabriel basically assumed command of the seas with his cunning looks, cutting tongue, and brute force, so Aziraphale did his best to avoid him. They also think his tail was an awful color, but it’s not his fault that it’s brown. He had no control over that.

“Aziraphale! Where have you been?”

He turned suddenly at the sound of his name, his hands subconsciously rising to greet each other as he nervously pushed them together. Gabriel and his bright, glittering purple tail were swimming straight for him, and following shortly behind was Sandalphon with his white tail, Michael with her red tail, and Uriel with her gold tail. They all shone in the sunlight filtering through the layers of water above them, making Aziraphale’s look even duller in comparison.

“Probably swimming in the mud again,” Sandalphon muttered, gaining chuckles out of the others in the group.

Aziraphale dutifully ignored him, pretending he didn’t hear the low words. “Can I help you, Gabriel?” he asked instead, hoping to avoid a confrontation.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you. I thought I had told you to keep an eye on the crustaceans, since they’ve been particularly snappy recently.”

“Oh, haha, right…” His thumbs started to slide over each other. “Sorry about that, I was just, uh…” he trailed off again. He couldn’t possibly tell them what he really was doing. He rose early that morning to go explore another sunken ship and had spent a little longer than he would have liked trying to place his findings around the grotto. He had a particular order to everything and wasn’t about to mess it up just to get back at a decent time.

“Is there something else you find more important, Aziraphale?” His eyes narrowed as his suspicion grew due to the lack of response.

“No, no. Of course not, Gabriel. I just - well, actually, I did have a thought. Perhaps the – the seabirds are more of a menace?”

“The seabirds?”

“Well, they do seem to attack without reason…” he trailed off under the strange looks he was getting, not wanting to start anything. He’d already risked a lot by offering to keep an eye on the seabirds. In reality, it would give him a chance to watch the humans in action, and, quite possibly, he could learn what some of his objects are – or at least how to work them. It lent into his fascination with them quite well, but he didn’t want anyone to grow suspicious.

“Seabirds?” Sandalphon interrupted, his hands tightly balled into fists. “That would require going to the surface! Do you know how dangerous, foolish, idiotic–” Gabriel held his hand out in front of Sandalphon as he started to swim closer to Aziraphale, effectively cutting his speech off too.

“He’s got a point,” Gabriel hummed. “If we can get someone to keep an eye on them, we might be able to learn their patterns, try and keep away from them, or even attack them. Aziraphale would be the best one to do it as well, as his tail is the least likely to attract the attention of any of those humans.”

“Really?” Aziraphale smiled, correcting himself quickly and schooling his face into a more neutral expression. He then cleared his throat and said, “I can be on my way now, if you’d like.”

Gabriel waved a hand in dismissal, already turning away. “Yeah, yeah, go ahead. Give me an initial report by the end of the week, and we’ll decide if you should continue.”

“Yes, of course.” Aziraphale bowed his head slightly as they left, but more so to hide his euphoria than anything. He hadn’t really expected it to work, and yet there he was, free to go visit the surface, to be within shouting distance of the humans. A brief thought flashed through his mind that the others might hope something will happen to him while he’s up there, but he buried it. He wouldn’t let something like that ruin his moment.

Suddenly, as he swam away, the sunlight growing brighter as he swam up and closer to the shore, he felt vastly underprepared. Should he have found something to hide under? A seaweed blanket, perhaps? Should he have brought his bag, just in case he finds something else from the humans he might want to keep? Oh well, what were the chances of something bad happening on the first day? He would figure everything out now and know what to bring for tomorrow.

He breached the water a safe distance away from the shore, shimmering drops of water falling from his face and hair in the dazzling sunlight. There was not a cloud in sight, or any seabirds… or any humans. He should probably swim closer to the shore, for, uh, the seabirds. Yes. But he lingered for a while there, soaking in the sun and the air as he closed his eyes and breathed deeply, a delighted smile alighting on his face. If he swam any closer, he’d have to stay below the surface. Then everything he’ll see will be distorted by the rippling waves under the wind’s strong hand.

Once the last of his bright curls dried under the beating heat of the sun, he decided it was time to move on, for if he wanted to continue to have this opportunity, he’s going to need to have something to report to Gabriel, and no matter how much he could fabricate for it, it had to at least have a thread of truth to it. Reluctantly, he disappeared under the waves again, which he noticed were swelling larger. High tide must have come, which is the perfect opportunity to get closer to the shore.

When the sunlight suddenly vanished for a few seconds, it took Aziraphale a few moments to register, pausing and blinking and only looking up once the light had returned. He did have the brain to think to look behind him, however, and noticed something floating on the surface of the water. Something he’d never seen before. As he watched it get further and further away from him, he saw a long piece of wood pushing the water away as it was pulled in and out of the ocean. With giddy realization, he thought there might be a human on that object.

As he surfaced once more, he could see that he was, in fact, correct. A human with long, curly red hair was kneeling on the strange object, which, from this angle, Aziraphale could see looked like a small, flat boat. It barely had enough room for the person, whose back was facing him, but he seemed desperate for it to work.

Aziraphale clucked his tongue quietly to himself and muttered, “That piece of driftwood would never pass for a boat; those things are always big. And if they can sink, there’s no way this is going to last, especially with tides like these. What are they thinking?” Still, he couldn’t seem to turn his attention away, trailing it at a safe distance and holding his breath at each large swell of a wave that threatened to flip the whole thing over.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a huge wave formed closeby, not giving the human enough warning to try and get out of it’s way. It picked up their boat with ease and flipped it, dumping them into the water and quickly carrying the boat away from him.

“Fuck!” a man screamed, and, since there were no others around, Aziraphale assumed it was the very human he was watching as the man’s head breached the surface, gasping for breath. Another wave crashed on top of him and sent him tumbling down into the water, spinning around and around as he struggled to reach the surface again.

Aziraphale was entranced by the vicious cycle for a few moments before realizing a few things all at once. First, this was a human. They couldn’t breathe under water. That meant all he was getting to breathe was the little gasps of air he managed before another wave pushed him back under. Second, the human was starting to get a little too close to some of the rock outcroppings for comfort, as the next wave might easily smash him against it and he could lose consciousness, or worse. Third, he was getting dangerously close to Aziraphale, and might notice him if Aziraphale didn’t leave now. He’d be in big trouble with the others if he let himself be found, but… would he be able to live with himself if he left and possibly let someone die? Someone he could have helped?

His moral compass weighed out as the man hit his head and started to sink without a struggle. Aziraphale dove back under the water and quickly swam to the man, securing a hold under his arms before dragging him back up to the surface and towards the shore. He couldn’t do much else, but he did his best as he found a small inlet where the water didn’t quite reach the top of the rocks, laying the man the best he could on them and hoping he wasn’t too late.

The man seemed peaceful as he lay there unconscious, and Aziraphale couldn’t help but reach out and brush a strand of that red hair away from his face. Like this, he couldn’t see why the others hated the humans so much. This one didn’t seem that bad, at least.

When the man took a sharp breath, Aziraphale quickly hid, heart racing as he forgot he couldn’t ogle at the man forever. He ducked as low as he could get in the water and as close to the rock as possible, hoping the man wouldn’t notice before he left.

“Fucking shit,” the man muttered as he sat up, rubbing his head. He paused mid rub to look around, brow furrowing in confusion. “What the hell?”

The man turned around, scanning the shore, and Aziraphale seized the opportunity to swim away, putting enough distance between himself and the human so that they couldn't see each other before slowing down to a stop. His heart was still beating wildly in his chest, even though he escaped, and no amount of deep breaths seemed to calm it. He touched his cheeks quickly, pulling his hand back as if he had just been burned. Which, in a way, he had. His face was warm. It was flushed. Oh no. Oh no no no. It can’t be what he thought it was. The beating heart, the flushed face, the strange fluttering in his stomach, that was all just because of how fast he had to swim, how much energy he expended into swimming away. That’s right. It certainly wasn’t because he thought the human looked – nice, or anything. And even if it was like that, it was only because he just met his first human. Yes, it all made sense now. The thrill of that danger and seeing a human up close is all it was. There was no way he could ever have feelings for a – a human, especially one he just met.

… Was there?

~~~

It took a while for Crowley to regain his composure, still wondering how he managed to get on the rock. Unless one of those waves he was caught up in happened to still be tall by the time it came into shore, he didn’t see how he would have managed, being that the tide couldn’t even reach it. He was laying down, too – the waves don’t care who enters them or what happens to those who do. They wouldn’t have carefully laid him against the stone, so that not even his elbows or palms were scraped and bruised.

He scanned the horizon, looking for what might have happened, but there wasn’t even a sign of his latest failed raft attempt. Or his sunglasses. Well, at least he had multiple pairs of them. He’ll just have to get to his home before anyone else runs into him.

Once he collected himself off of the rocks, he tread carefully along the shoreline, careful to not trip on any of the treacherous rocks. One slip, and he could break his lanky legs on the sharp stones, which would lead to a few different outcomes. He’d have to get off of the shore himself somehow, with a broken leg, or he’d have to wait to see if he would be lucky and someone would find him. That seemed less likely. Even if someone happened along the beach, there was no guarantee they’d give him the time of day. No matter what happened, he would eventually have to explain to someone why he was on the beach in the first place. He definitely didn’t want to deal with that.

The truth was, this wasn’t his first raft. He’s tried many times before, collecting twine and bits of driftwood and fashioning them together, but he could never get very far before the waves got him. He just wanted out. He didn’t want to live around these – these awful excuses for human beings anymore. He knew, if he could just get out far enough into the sea, he could drift along, riding the currents to somewhere better. Or at least, that was what he had heard. It was what he believed. And he had to believe in it. Without that belief, he had nothing else.

He was the village outcast. No one enjoyed his presence, no one visited him for pleasure, no one even liked to see him pass them by in the streets. They thought he was a freak, all because he was born slightly different from the rest of them. It’s why he wore sunglasses around with him everywhere. Crowley had an eye condition known as Coloboma. It meant his pupils weren’t normal circles like everyone else, looking more like an oval or even a keyhole in some cases. Anyone who didn’t shy away at the sight of them started calling them snake eyes, which eventually became his only personality trait for them. That he was a snake. The sunglasses were an attempt to stop or at least slow the names, and to not make others uncomfortable at the sight. It didn’t help; but there was nothing he could do about it now.

“Look, the snake is slithering back from the shore again,” someone nearby whispered, causing Crowley to clench his fists in silence and speed up his pace.

“Not hiding behind his sunglasses today, I see. Trying to intimidate someone there, Crowley?”

“Shut up, Hastur,” he snapped, still pushing forward. He assumed the other person was Ligur.

“Actually, we were looking for you.”

Crowley stopped, fists balled, and turned around to look at them, schooling his face into a neutral expression. “What do you want?”

“Just passing along a message,” Ligur drawled. “Beelzebub plans to drop by your shop later. Make sure you’re there this time. I don’t think you want to find out what will happen if you make one more late payment on your rent.”

Hastur smiled, though it looked more like a sneer. “Hope you have the money for it.”

Crowley nodded curtly before swiftly turning on his heel, biting his tongue before he said something he would regret. Messing with Beelzebub’s lackey’s had cost him in the past – a raise in his rent. Just another one of his many reasons to leave this place. He was stuck there, barely scraping by before and now only keeping a handful for himself at the end of every month. At least the plant shop still had enough of a customer flow to make any money at all, but in order to leave the normal way, he’d have to save up enough to pay a few months rent at once, per Beelzebub’s rules. It would take him ages to do that, if he ever could.

That’s why he was trying to escape to the sea. They would see him go to the beach, and then he’d never come back. They’d presume he died somehow, and he could start a new life somewhere else, free of debt. It was becoming risky to follow that path, however, seeing as he might have died that time if not for his mysterious rescue.

He moved the pot of his most trusted outdoor plant, a spotted aloe, to the side to pick up his key, carefully moving it back to the same spot before letting himself into the shop. His plant mister sat next to the door, right where he left it, so he picked it up and started spraying plants along the way as he opened up for the day. If Beelzebub was visiting, they’d probably be the only visitor today, but that doesn’t mean the plants could miss a watering. Along the way, he also picked up a pair of sunglasses hiding among the plants.

The bell above the door rang out as Crowley was organizing everything behind the counter, so he ignored it in favor of finishing sorting the seed packets in his head, a subtle attempt to show his contemptment towards Beelzebub. He did have to give in eventually, though, so, with a frown, he turned around to face them.

“Nice to see you here, Beelzebub,” he said with false sincerity, something Beelzebub could pick up on immediately as they sneered at him. “Can I help you pick out a plant you might like? There are some fly traps towards the back of the store, they might suit you.”

“Enough with the chatter, Crowley. Do you have my payment or not?”

He rolled his eyes and picked up an envelope, tossing it on the counter in front of them. “It’s all there. Feel free to count it if you want, but I have things to attend to.”

“Yes, like all your many customers in here.” They frowned and pocketed the envelope before leaving once more.

“Just fuck off,” he muttered, but he still let out a sigh of relief once the door closed, glad to know he had a home for at least another month. He turned back around to finish his organizing.

As Crowley lay in the bed on the second floor that night, he stared out his window at the bright moon and shimmering stars, thinking. Something about his morning just – wasn’t right. Someone must have saved him, must have seen his poor excuse of a raft go down, and decided to jump in after him, pulling him to the shore. They left before he was awake, though, or otherwise hid themselves fairly well, because he didn’t remember there being anyone else around.

It bothered him so much that, after his fitful sleep that night, he put little effort into tying his hair back in a messy bun and found himself treading the familiar path down to the beach as the sun rose over the ocean. He wasn’t quite sure what he was going to do at first, but as soon as he got there, his feet turned towards the rock he had found himself on the other day. Since his curiosity had gotten the best of him, he decided he could spare a few minutes to look around the rock with some fresh perspective, and if nothing else came out of his trip, at least he could look to start gathering some driftwood. His last raft would have to come back eventually.

It was high tide when he arrived, and everything looked exactly as he remembered from the previous day. Not a single pebble had moved, there were no obvious footprints in any of the sand or gravel nearby besides his own that he was making, there was no sign at all that anyone had ever been on that particular rock other than himself. He sighed heavily, plopping down on the rock and drawing his knees to his chest to watch the waves.

He supposed he had hoped to find whoever had saved him the previous day. Someone kind enough to save him might be kind enough to be friends with him, and they might even know a way to help him get away. That was all his imagination getting the best of him, though. Chances are, it was a complete stranger who just wanted to do something good yesterday, which is why they were gone by the time he woke up. If they actually cared, they would have taken him to the hospital or something.

A wave larger than the others crashed against the edge of the rocks in front of him, sending its salty water spraying into the air and right into Crowley’s face. His eyes scrunched closed as the water splashed him, and the few stray hairs he hadn’t caught stuck to his forehead. Once the water had receded, he carefully opened his eyes and wiped at his face, not wanting the grimy salty water to drip into his eyes. Of course, his sunglasses had water droplets all over them too, so he had to take them off to wipe them down. This movement gave him the opportunity to catch a glimpse of something he hadn’t noticed before – a flash of something that almost looked white, or maybe cream, in the inlet next to him. It disappeared as he blinked, so he wasn’t entirely sure if he was just seeing things or not, but he figured he should get up anyway, so he can check it along the way.

Resting his sunglasses back on the bridge of his nose, he stood, cautious of the now wet rock so he wouldn’t slip. He didn’t quite go to the edge of the rock, just in case whatever it may be is dangerous, but he does get as close as he needs to in order to look into the water below. There, just below the surface of the waves, is that thing he had seen before, but he can now tell what it is. It’s hair – the top of someone’s head.

“I see you there,” he said, frowning, wondering if his voice would even sound right to whomever was under the water. “No point in hiding any longer.”

Slowly, the head rose enough so that the man’s eyes and nose were above the water, for now Crowley could say it was a man. He was struck with bright blue eyes like the very ocean the man was in, and felt… something under the scrutinizing gaze.

“Are you the one who rescued me yesterday?” he asked, hopeful that he had finally found the person who did it.

The man hesitated before nodding lightly, confirming Crowley’s suspicions. Something still seemed strange, off, even, about this man. About the whole situation in general. Why was he back? Why was he in the water?

“Were you spying on me?” The man didn’t say anything, but the guilty look that washes over his face is enough of an answer for Crowley. “I suppose I should say thank you,” he said, brushing past the last topic. “Though, it is strange to talk to you like this. Why don’t you climb on up here so I’m not looking down on you like this?”

Water splashes from the force of the man shaking his head, causing a bemused Crowley to raise an eyebrow.

“What, are you skinny dipping or something? What’s the matter?”

There was a flash of movement behind the man, something Crowley hadn’t seen until now, but, upon squinting, he could make out what looked like a large fishtail. It twitched, and the man shifted ever so slightly along with it. Quickly connecting the dots, Crowley’s eyes opened wide and he shuffled back in shock, slipping on one of the wet rocks and causing him to land hard on his bottom.

The other man seemed concerned by this, raising himself out of the water more to try and catch Crowley, to keep him from falling. This sudden exposure only confirmed what Crowley had just figured out – he looked normal on the top half, but the further down he looked, the more things started to change, to the point where the lower half of his body was connected in one, long tail. This was no ordinary man. He was a merman.

He partially sank back into the water sheepishly, but stayed high enough that the pair could still see each other, making them eye level with one another now. “I didn’t mean for you to fall on my account,” he said, fiddling with his hands.

Crowley took a moment to respond. There’s the obvious reason for that, which is that there is a merman in front of him, something he didn’t know even existed, something he had thought was a tall tale until now, but there was another reason. Of all the things that could have surprised him, it was the man’s voice that did it the most. First of all, for them to both be speaking the same language seemed to be a gift from God herself, having grown up in two different worlds. Second, it sounded nothing like what he expected. He thought maybe there would be an echo to it, like some mythical, all powerful being, as if multiple people were speaking at once. Maybe there would just be an edge to it, some kind of small thing that took his speech and made it slightly different from a humans, and therefore slightly unnerving. But there wasn’t. His voice was small, sweet, and clearly, above all else, shy.

“It happens,” Crowley said, inching a bit closer across the rocks but staying seated. “I was just – surprised is all.”

“So I didn’t hurt you?”

“Not majorly. Just a light sting, it will go away in a few minutes.”

He sighed in relief. “Thank goodness. I was worried there for a second.”

“How long have you been around here, then? I don’t think I’ve – ever – seen a mer – er – person before.”

“Oh, yesterday was my first day coming in close. I guess it was just a lucky coincidence that I ran into you.” He pursed his lips before saying, “Forgive me if this is out of line, but I think you might want to consider fashioning a better boat. Even the large ones end up at the bottom of the sea sometimes.”

“Lucky coincidence, eh? Seems to me you’re more like my guardian angel.” Crowley chuckled. “And yeah, I haven’t found the right design for that boat yet. It takes a while to collect enough wood for it, and sometimes, like yesterday, well – I just get impatient.”

“Why were you trying to use it if you knew it wasn’t finished yet?”

“...Are you trying to get me to tell you more about myself? What, are you some kind of fae? Are you going to wait until I tell you my name and then suddenly steal it from me or however that works? If you exist – well, wouldn’t be surprised if they exist too, now.”

The man frowned, moving back slightly. “I didn’t mean to impose, I’m sorry. I don’t know what this ‘fae’ of yours is, but I don’t intend to steal anything. And if you’re worried about names – well, I’m Aziraphale. Maybe giving you mine will ease your mind on that front.”

“Aziraphale,” Crowley repeated, feeling the word around. “Alright then, Aziraphale. I’m Crowley. And while I appreciate that you won’t take anything from me, I don’t think I’m willing to divulge my reasoning to a stranger.”

“Oh, right. Yes, that makes sense.” He fiddled with his hands some more.

“Why are you so interested, anyway?”

“Well… I’ve always thought you humans were fascinating. Actually, you’re the first one I’ve ever seen up close, let alone talked to. There are so many – things you invent, so many things you do, so many – so many things. That only come from humans. That we don’t have.”

“If you’re so interested, why am I the first human you’ve ever seen?” At Aziraphale’s frown, he quickly added, “You don’t have to answer, of course–”

“It’s fine,” he interrupted, shaking his head. “It was hard for me to convince the others to let me come close to shore. They don’t like humans, see. Think we’re all above you all, and that you should be treated – well, badly for constantly hunting and killing fish.”

“Never liked fish anyway,” Crowley joked, and at once, Aziraphale smiled. Crowley decided then that he wanted to see the smile again. There was one problem with that, though. “Oh shit.” Crowley stood suddenly, looking out over the water to see the sun was a lot higher than he thought it was. “I need to go. Have things to do. Sorry to cut this short, Aziraphale. It was nice meeting you.”

“Oh, yes, rather,” he said, frowning once more. “Perhaps… perhaps we can meet each other again?”

Crowley looked down at his pleading eyes, wondering how his life had even come to this. Seeing as Aziraphale was the only real friendly being he had met in a long time, and that he actually enjoyed being in his presence long enough that he had lost track of time, he said, “Sure. Bring some of your human questions next time; I need to repay you for the questions you asked me.”

“You don’t have to do that.” But even as he said it, a smile creeped onto his face once more. “See you later?”

“Yeah. See you later, angel.” He didn’t quite know why he said angel there, but it seemed to fit. He had called him his guardian angel, afterall, so it was fitting. Aziraphale didn’t seem to mind, either. Well, he didn’t protest the name, for one, but Crowley swore he saw Aziraphale’s cheeks flush slightly just before he submerged beneath the waves once more, out of Crowley’s sight.

~~~

“Alright, hit me.”

“Why would I want to hit you?”

Crowley sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, just above his glasses. “It’s an expression, angel. Means – well, that one means to just go ahead. Tell me what you’ve got.”

He was seated cross-legged on the rocks with Aziraphale partially in the water in front of him, his elbows resting on the rocks and his head resting in his hands. Crowley had made sure to save aside an entire day he could be away from the shop for this.

“Okay… what is this?” He reached into the small seaweed bag he brought with him and brought an object out.

“That is a cup. Though it’s a little broken, with that chip and all.”

“A cup?” he repeated, looking at it as if he had just found out all of its dirtiest secrets. “What do you do with it?”

“We drink out of it. Uh – you live in water, so I guess you guys don’t drink… we have to ingest liquids to keep our body going, so to make things more convenient, we move those liquids into these smaller containers to drink from.”

“What do you drink?”

“Oh, all sorts of things. Water, tea, lemonade, alcohol… of course, there are many different types of some of those too, like green tea versus chai, or whiskey versus wine.”

“Fascinating.” Gently, he sat it down in front of him, reaching into his bag for yet another object. “What about this?”

“Well, that looks like a metal spork. It’s a combination of a spoon and a fork, which are…” he trailed off upon seeing Aziraphale’s confused expression. “It’s an eating utensil, so we don’t have to eat with our hands.”

“Why didn’t you just say so? That seems much simpler than that spoon – fork nonsense.”

Crowley sighed and shook his head, a bemused smile crossing his face. “Just – what else have you got?”

“There’s this,” he said, pulling out a cylindrical object, “I’m always afraid I’ll break it if I try to figure it out.”

“This would be a type of telescope. Where’d you even find one of those?”

“A shipwreck. I like to explore them in my free time, perusing the broken wood for items that look interesting.”

“And all this time, I thought you were just going through trash.” Crowley took the telescope from him and extended it, watching water drip from the inside onto his lap before seeing if it still worked.

Aziraphale huffed. “I have standards.”

“Well, angel, you’re in luck. Seems like it still works.” He handed it over to him and said, “Just look through it, and you’ll see what it does.”

Curious, he took it from Crowley and held it up to his eye, earning a short bark of a laugh as Crowley reached over and flipped it. “This end, not the other.”

“Oh. Oh, look, Crowley, you’re really close!” He laughed as he pointed it at Crowley, then turning to the cliffs. “It’s like the top of those rocks is right here in front of me! This thing is marvelous!”

“You should use it again at night. I still remember seeing the stars for the first time through a telescope. Ah, they sure are wonderful.”

Aziraphale lowered the telescope, setting it on the rock as well. “I didn’t know you could see them any better than the tiny pinpricks that dot the sky.”

“Well, a little telescope like that probably wouldn’t do much, they’re mainly used on boats, but with a larger one…” he trailed off, his gaze moving towards the sky. “How about I lug my large star one down here and let you see for yourself?”

“Really? You’d do that for me?”

“Sure, it would give me an excuse to pull it out again. I haven’t been able to use it recently.”

“How about… tomorrow night?”

“As long as it’s not too cloudy, sure. It’s a date.”

“It’s a… a date,” Aziraphale nodded, starting to pack his things away. “I should uh – probably head back, don’t want anyone to grow suspicious…” In his haste, he knocked the spork off of the rock, casting it back into the water. “Oh, silly me.” He dived down to catch the sinking object, returning to the surface to meet Crowley’s curious gaze.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve seen your tail until now. Properly, I mean.”

“Well, you know… it’s nothing special.”

“I think it’s lovely,” he said with a frown. “I mean, the way it shimmered–”

“Please, don’t.”

He froze, at a loss for words at Aziraphale’s sudden harsh tone.

“I get mocked enough by the others for it; I don’t need your pity. They all have bright, glittering colors, but I got stuck with this.”

“I was being serious,” Crowley ventured, choosing his words carefully. “I mean, those flecks of gold really stand out–”

“Huh?” Aziraphale turned around to look at his tail, spinning in circles a few times to get a good angle. Sure enough, like Crowley had said, it was speckled with spots of glimmering gold, something he had never noticed before. “That’s – that’s impossible.”

“What, have you never seen that before?” He pursed his lips in thought. “Perhaps you can only see them near the surface, when the sun is bright enough?”

“Perhaps…” he trailed off, still staring at his tail, before shaking his head to clear his thoughts. “Well, it was lovely to see you again, Crowley, but I must be going now.”

“Right. See you tomorrow.”

“Yes… tomorrow.”

~~~

Mindful of how the tides might shift while they’re there, Crowley sets up the telescope on the beach, figuring there should be enough water nearby for Aziraphale. Luckily, there were only a few thin clouds in the sky, so by the time Aziraphale swam over to him, riding the gentle waves, he had already found a good spot in the sky to look at.

“Alright, are you ready?” he asked Aziraphale. “Try not to move it too much or you might miss it, but look through this lens here.”

Once Aziraphale had maneuvered himself into a good position to look through it, he closed an eye and let out a gasp.

“Oh my, Crowley, you were right, this is just marvelous. It looks like there’s even more stars than normal!”

“There are millions of stars out there, Aziraphale. Billions, even. Just – a lot of stars. The universe stretches on for forever, and then, it’s been discovered that there are many other universes too, each with their own system of stars, glittering out in the vast expanse of space.”

“You sure do like your stars.”

Crowley scratched the back of his neck. “Well, when I was younger, I wanted to be an astronaut. They’re people that get rocketed out into space for a time, and get to live out there and study it. As I got older, the list of reasons why I couldn’t became apparent to me, especially with my eyes, so that dream faded. I still like the stars, though. That part of it never faded.”

Aziraphale backed away from the telescope, a curious look on his face as he turned to Crowley. “What’s wrong with your eyes?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t want to–”

“Know?” He pursed his lips. “I’m curious about everything, Crowley. Of course I want to know. Especially if it’s about you.”

With a sigh, he relented and pulled his sunglasses off, blinking a few times as he adjusted to the new light level, even if there wasn’t much coming from the moon and stars. He waited for what he knew would come – ‘what happened to your eyes?’ ‘is there something wrong with you?’ ‘those are not natural.’ He’d heard probably all the questions and statements in the world about them, and had seen every single person recoil at the sight of them. He never forgot how they looked slightly horrified, or startled, or a mix of both, and then quickly schooled their expression into something apologetic, or even something that was supposed to show they were sorry for him. That was only the nice ones, though. The others wouldn’t change their expressions.

“They’re beautiful.”

“Yes, they’re natural,” he started, going on autopilot for his usual response. “It’s an eye disease called Coloboma, where the iris doesn’t form correctly in the womb. That’s why my pupil is so – wuh, wait, what?”

“They’re beautiful,” Aziraphale repeats, and, though he tried hard, Crowley could not find a hint of any of the usual emotions on his face. He was just – Aziraphale.

“Oh, shut up,” he said instead, not knowing how else to react. No one has ever reacted like that, and he had this feeling for a while that Aziraphale was different – other than the merman part, of course. But now, there was solid proof that he was like no person Crowley had ever met. It brought a flush to his cheeks, so to cover it up, he quickly shoved the sunglasses back on and looked back through the telescope. “Would you like to see some of the constellations? Let’s see if I can find a few.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “Of course, my dear.”

There was a fluttering in his stomach and pounding in his chest at that, sputtering incoherently as he forgot what he was even looking for, earning another chuckle from Aziraphale before he calmed himself down enough to function once more.

Aziraphale sure was different. Crowley thinks keeping him around might not be so bad afterall.

~~~

“So, I know where you get all this junk,” Crowley said, gesturing around the rock at the pile of new objects Aziraphale brought to find out their function. “But where do you keep it? Do you have some kind of – I dunno – sandcastle on the seafloor you live in? Giant clamshells? A really large anemone?”

“Hilarious, but no. I don’t keep my treasures anywhere near the others.”

Crowley’s gaze turned toward the broken coat hanger and wondered how anyone would call them treasures, but he didn’t voice this thought out loud.

“Surely I’ve told you this already, dear?”

With a frown, he racked his brain as he thought back to their different meetings, but between hiding his blush that seemed to always come at the most inopportune moments and helping Aziraphale identify these objects, he doesn’t recall ever hearing much about how things work under the sea. “Nope.”

“Oh. Well, I have to have told you that the others don’t like humans. This includes anything made by them too. No, I found a hidden cave, a grotto, more like, and I keep everything there. I hide it all in there, making sure each item is in just the right spot. It makes me feel better, hiding in there whenever Gabriel or Sandalphon are being particularly nasty. I can be surrounded by the things I like, the things that make me marvel and wonder at them.” He stopped himself as he found his hands were fiddling with each other again. “Sorry, that was a lot.”

“No need to apologize, angel. I – I understand how you feel. Sometimes, when everything around us has gone to shit, where everyone seems to hate you, or you can’t do anything right in the eyes of anyone else, you just need a place to – escape.”

“Escape,” he repeated, softer. “Yes, yes it’s quite like that. Sometimes I only wish the escape could last a lot longer, for I always fear they’ll notice that I’ve been gone for quite a while, and then start questioning. It rarely ever happens, though. They don’t even seem to notice me half the time. It’s like I’m – Oh, I don’t know.”

“Invisible?”

He nodded. “Yeah, that works. Sometimes it’s nice, but other times… Well, I just wish there was someone else out there that understood me.” With a pause, he frowned and said, “Well, I guess you do, dear. It seems like we have a lot in common, even coming from different species.”

“That’s what the best of friends are made of, I believe. Similarities even through the differences.”

“I’d be glad to call you my – friend.” He let that settle for a while as a comfortable, yet uncertain silence fell between them. Then, clearing his throat, he changed the subject. “I didn’t mean to get so dark and grim on you, dear. Tell me, if you can’t be an – astronaut, what do you do?”

“Oh, I run a plant shop. It’s nothing special, really.”

“A plant shop? So you – uh, sell plants, presumably? I didn’t know there were all kinds of types of shops.”

He nodded. “All kinds of plants, seeds to grow your own, and other supplies that might be needed to take care of plants, like fertilizer and misters. Keep the spare key under the spotted aloe out front so I don’t lose it while I’m out and about. It’s not terrible, I suppose.”

“But you don’t want to be there.”

“Well, no.” He sighed, pushing his hair out of his face. “It’s not so much the shop, it’s more… the people. Not all humans are good, Aziraphale. Trust me. Sometimes, I don’t even think I’m good.”

“As I don’t have much of an opinion, not knowing any other humans, I’d say you’re lovely. I wouldn’t know about half of these things if it wasn’t for you.”

Crowley pushed his sunglasses up his nose to hide his blush. “Thanks, angel. So, is there anything else in that bag of yours?

~~~

While their meetings were fun, and Aziraphale was enjoying them, he still felt that something was off. He’d never want to mention it in front of Crowley, though, because he didn’t think it was important enough.

Meeting Crowley truly felt like a blessing. Of all the talk the other merfolk had said about humans being dangerous, and the need to stay away from them at all costs, there was nothing Aziraphale could wish for other than being closer to Crowley. He willingly frequented the beach to answer all of his questions, told him everything he could about the humans, and is so – so – so not what Aziraphale would have ever expected. So compassionate, so kind, so nice– he stopped that train of thought abruptly as pink rose to the surface of his cheeks.

But he couldn’t help but notice that they can’t stay like this forever. Clearly, Crowley was still trying to leave, since he still collected driftwood after each of their meetings, and Aziraphale knew there was a lot of land out there that didn’t touch the sea. What if Crowley sailed away to a place so far, Aziraphale would never be able to get away from the others to be able to see him? What if he moved farther into the land, and they were never able to see each other again?

The whole idea of them losing each other made Aziraphale so flustered that he started falling into research. He found it remarkable that both the humans and the merfolk used similar methods to hold their knowledge. Crowley had brought one of those ‘books’ down to the beach to show Aziraphale, and he quickly found out that it was not waterproof. That would explain why he had never found any on his adventures, or at least not thought they were interesting enough to drag out of the wrecks. The merfolk didn’t call them books, but mere seaweed scrolls that important information was etched onto. He had already looked once to see if any of the daring adventures Crowley had described might be located among the seaweed, and he was severely disappointed when he turned up empty handed.

That was why he was researching. He wanted nothing more than to see these books, to feel the crisp pages between his fingers, maybe curl up in front of this ‘fire’ Crowley had mentioned with a good book in hand,and perhaps a mug of tea or cocoa close by, those sounded delicious. But maybe he wanted something more, too. Maybe he wanted someone to share those nights with. To sit with him in the library as he marveled at everything the building contained. To enjoy his presence, just as much as he enjoyed theirs. If he closed his eyes and focused enough, that nice little room with the fire would gain another chair across from him, and a figure would start to appear, dozing lightly against the back as his red hair fell into his face–

Rumors had it that there was a powerful, but potentially dangerous, mage that lived in a secluded cave on the coast line. His methods were unknown, his payment was unknown, but the rumor said he would do anything you wished, as long as you could pay him. Aziraphale thought it was worth a shot – if he could find the location of the cave, he could pop on down and ask a few questions, see if he could afford the payment, and, maybe, just maybe, go through with his wish, and trade his tail for a pair of human legs.

It would be a big change, that’s for sure. He would no longer be able to breathe underwater, he’d have to give up his entire collection of objects, and, perhaps the most difficult, he would have to learn how to walk, and not swim.

But, if it was for the chance to get closer to Crowley, it was worth it.

His research proved fruitful, and the next chance he had, sure the others wouldn’t miss him and knowing he and Crowley weren’t due to meet until later, he swam off towards the shore to search for it along the coast. The exact location wasn’t quite given to him, but he figured he had enough information to guide him to the right place.

Finally, he happened across a small entrance on the side of a tall, cragged cliff. It was definitely a cave – a true, dark, grim and scary looking cave, not a cave like his grotto that still let the sunlight gradually filter in and light up the walls and natural shelving. Stalactites and stalagmites loomed everywhere, making swimming into it through the narrow channel almost like navigating a maze. He noticed a small pathway in the stone along the side of the channel, so at least he knew there was a way to walk out, if necessary.

There was a bend in the cave tunnel, and on the wall, a strange, glowing square of green stood, accented by yellow bars running through it, like a cell. It lit the cave, spreading an eerie glow and even more eerie shadows from the stalagmites and stalactites. Aziraphale cast a curious glance at it, but something about it sent a chill down his spine, so he moved away from it and quickly continued forward, even though he could swear someone – or something – was whispering, begging him to turn back.

An orange, flickering glow started to mingle with the green until the orange took over, flickering from a torch nearby. The channel Aziraphale was in ended abruptly, however, so he looked around desperately to see if there was anything else he could do.

“Who’s there?” A voice boomed, echoing loudly against the walls and making Aziraphale sink back into the water, terrified. From out of the shadows a man appeared, grabbing the torch and holding it out in front of him to illuminate the area better. Aziraphale got a good look at him from his hiding spot, similar to the way he had first observed Crowley. He had awfully pale skin, probably from a lack of sunlight if he lived in a cave. His eyebrows were carefully sculpted – long and arched and almost menacing. His small, hooked nose gave accent to his full lips, and his dark eyes were accented by sharp cheekbones. His hair, however, was mostly hidden by a large top hat with a blood red ribbon. The clothes he wore reminded Aziraphale of the torn ship sails from the wrecks he had visited, but somehow, it worked for the man as it fit him perfectly and even accented things Aziraphale might have never noticed otherwise, like the multitude of bracelets drawing eye to his strangely sharp nails or the slightly short flowing trousers showing off the tall heeled boots. Together, it all seemed– strange. Almost… not human.

“I see you down there, blondie.”

Aziraphale jumped, almost hitting himself on a stalagmite as he moved away from the man. “Uh, sorry…”

“A merman, huh?” he smiled, crouching down to get closer, and the tone of his voice smoothed over, almost like changing from velcro to silk. “I haven’t seen one of your kind around in a while. Are you here to make a deal?”

“A – a deal?” he squeaked. He cleared his throat before continuing. “If that’s what you call your magic with a payment, then… yes?”

The man stood back to his full height and replaced the torch in its holder. “The name’s Lucifer,” he nearly purred, and a table and chair floated out of the darkness before setting down on the stone, letting Lucifer rest on them as he sprawled across the chair. “What’s yours?”

“Uh, well – that is…” he vaguely remembered how Crowley was nervous to give his name away to Aziraphale when they first met, afraid he was some kind of ‘fae.’ He didn’t continue his sentence, too nervous and head full of regret.

Lucifer smiled at him anyway, flashing his pearly white teeth that looked strangely sharper than a normal person’s. “I understand, you don’t want to give it away, no one really does at first. But, I hope you know I’ll need it for the contract.”

“The contract?”

“Ugh, no one’s ever mentioned the contract?”

He shook his head.

“That’s how the magic works. It’s the – payment.” He dipped a quill into a bottle of ink and tapped the excess off before starting to write on the page. “You tell me what you want, I give you a certain amount of time with it, and if you don’t meet all of my requirements, well–” his smile turned into more of a menacing sneer “-then I get to take your soul.”

“My soul?” Aziraphale put a little more distance between them at that. “You want – my soul? Don’t I need that to – to live?”

“It’s only fair, darling. Especially with my usual clients. They want to look better, they want to woo someone they love, they want to gain power, they want to gain riches, blah blah blah. I use a lot of magic to fulfil your requests, so I need a large payment. But, I only take your soul if you can’t meet my requirements. If you do meet them, then everything is fine and dandy, and, even better, you get to keep your soul!”

Aziraphale gulped. “What are the requirements?”

“Well, you haven’t told me what you wanted yet, have you? The requirements are custom for each person.” He rested his head in his hand. “So go on, spill.”

“Well… I would really like a pair of legs.”

“Oh, the little mermaid wants to be a fish out of water!” he laughed. “What is it? Sick of swimming? Want to trade that tail out to feel the sand between your toes? Trust me, sand is not something you want between your toes.”

“Actually, I– I wanted to meet someone.”

Something sparked in Lucifer’s eyes as he leaned forward, over the desk, grinning. “Is someone in looove?”

Sputtering, Aziraphale attempted to deny it. “I – no, I don’t know what you – it’s ridiculous that you would even think–”

“Don’t you worry, darling, it’ll stay between you and me.” He brushed the quill feather against his lips. “Or will it?” Quickly, he started to scribble on the paper, muttering to himself as he went. “Suppose you need clothes… don’t need you walking down the beach nude… and to replace the tail with legs…”

Finally, he pulled away from the parchment and dipped the quill once more. “I’ll give you three days. By the third sunset, you will need to confess your feelings to this person. Otherwise…”

Aziraphale fiddled with his hands. He knew what that otherwise meant, and he wasn’t sure if he would be able to follow through. But he was so close, and he had been dreaming about this moment for a while now. So, briefly and curtly, he nodded.

“Excellent. Sign on the line, and try to think of what kind of clothing you want to wear.” Lucifer smoothed the paper out as he tapped the excess ink from the quill once more and presented them to Aziraphale. With one more hesitation, Aziraphale reached for them, leaning against the ledge of the rock and scanning over the paper before shakily writing out his name.

Once he dotted the ‘i’, the paper started to glow white, sealing the deal as the light grew. Something lifted Aziraphale from the water and he looked around hastily, but all he could see was white. He closed his eyes and furrowed his brow, concentrating on some kind of clothing to wear. He didn’t know much of human clothing, to be honest, besides what Crowley usually wore and what Lucifer was wearing, but neither of them had seemed his style. Instead, he focused on the kind of clothes he had seen in some of the paintings on sunken ships, which had unfortunately deteriorated as soon as he touched them, but he still remembered them.

When he felt the cold, hard stone under his hand, Aziraphale dared to open his eyes again, and found that Lucifer had disappeared, along with the things he had made appear out of nowhere. He wasn’t really paying attention to that, though, as he reached down and rested his hand on his knee. When he felt the rough fabric of the trousers and a leg underneath, he let out a breathless laugh. His other hand immediately moved to his other knee, and from there he even tried to reach the brown leather shoes, to touch his toes, but he found that he couldn’t quite reach, and that the stretching was actually quite laborious.

Using the cave wall for support, he slowly got to his feet, shaking and wobbling as he put his weight onto his legs for the first time. Another shaky laugh escaped his lips, and he used his free hand to feel the fabric of the jacket he was now sporting, and the button up shirt, and even the little tartan bow tie adorning his neck.

He used the edge of the wall to help him hobble along the little path, ignoring the green glow as he passes it once more and finally emerges into the sunlight. From the angle of the sun, it didn’t seem like he missed the meeting with Crowley, and wouldn’t that be the perfect time to reveal his new magic legs! His smile faded as he remembered he would have to confess his feelings to Crowley in three days or he would lose his soul… but he had time.

Right?

What could go wrong? He used the cliffside to aid his walking ventures as he headed to their usual meeting place, wondering what Crowley’s reaction will be.

~~~

For once in his time he had spent here, Crowley was enjoying himself. His meetings with Aziraphale gave him something to look forward to, stealing down to the beach often more than once a week to sit there and watch with a bemused expression as Aziraphale marveled over the tiniest, strangest thing Crowley told him. For someone to willingly meet with him, week after week, day after day, always coming back just because he actually liked being around Crowley? It was an experience he had never felt before.

And yet, Crowley couldn’t help but feel that something was off. He enjoyed his meetings with Aziraphale, he really did. But if anything, they made his surroundings in the town even worse, highlighting other issues or bringing problems out front and center instead of hiding away in the back. He couldn’t stay there forever. Even if it meant meeting Aziraphale every day, he couldn’t do it. But he didn’t want to sacrifice the blossoming friendship to do so, snipping the bud from its stem and leaving it to die. And if he moved inland, that would be like pulling the roots up out of the ground, so the plant could never bloom again.

Because the two of them were so – different, but somehow, so close, it would be an obstacle for either of them to get what they want in their current situation. Crowley found himself daydreaming while taking care of the plants, feeling the imaginary brush of the cold ocean waves as he repotted plants, holding his breath while removing a rotten plant and thinking about how merfolk can breathe under water, and thinking about what it would mean to swim all the time.

Sometimes, if he closed his eyes, he could see the sun filtering through the ocean waves above him as he swam through the seaweed, chasing after something that was just out of his grasp. He had nearly caught it a few times before someone or something startled him out of it – a brown fishtail disappearing around a bend, a flash of curly blonde hair sticking out above the seaweed…

Could they make a life together under the sea? If there was a way for Crowley to live and breathe underwater, could he join Aziraphale and the other merfolk? Or if Aziraphale wouldn’t want to stay around them, like he himself didn’t want to stay around this batch of humans, maybe they could go off together? If he was willing, there was a whole world of ocean they could explore. Maybe they’d find a group of other merfolk willing to let them in, or even just find their own corner of the ocean to claim together. He could see them in the middle of the ocean, far from any human civilization, bobbing up and down on the top of the water and gazing up at the stars, stars Crowley would have never even dreamed of seeing anywhere else, with all the light pollution… he could get closer to Aziraphale, use his arm to point out the different constellations, maybe even fabricate stories around them as they stargazed together…

Crowley just wanted to be closer to Aziraphale.

These thoughts tumbling in and out of his head, interrupting his daily life, is why he ended up at the library. Yes, of all places, he was in the library, even though he didn’t really read, he only had a few gardening manuals around and even then never really used them, but this was important. There were a bunch of old wive’s tales, fairy tales, even, that he could find there, and any one of them could prove fruitful. Sure, most people would brush them off as fiction, and for a while, he had to. But Aziraphale was living, breathing proof that at least one of those tales was actually true, so – what’s to say the others aren’t, too?

Snow White killed the Evil Queen. She’s out. He probably wouldn’t want to ask for help for someone called evil, either. Cinderella’s fairy godmother seemed promising, but he had no clue if he had one, or how to summon them, so that was out. There were numerous other witches, wizards, and warlocks, all pitted as the villain, all banished, or killed, or trapped in an inescapable prison. It was starting to seem like his task was impossible. He was starting to lose hope.

That is, until he found something that was more of a rumor than a tale, an account rather than a story, which made him interested immediately. Apparently, there was a mage that acted like a genie, granting wishes for strange payments that no one was very clear on in their explanation. What was great about this mage, too, is they supposedly lived nearby. If this mage did exist, and Crowley could find them, then that might be the one to solve his problems.

He spent some time planning an expedition – supposedly, the place he needed to find was on the coast line, but he still wanted to be prepared. He found maps of the coast, the most accurate he could, and marked a few places he thought it might be, between his own knowledge of the area and what he had read about it. Deciding it would be easier to stay off of the sand and rocks of the shore, to avoid the uneven ground, he would set off along the top of the cliffs, using a natural path in the side of the rock to get back to the beach closer to the spots he wanted to search.

All that was left was to choose a day. He didn’t want the weather to be bad, of course, or the sand would be even worse. And he wouldn’t want to be lost either, if he could get the fishtail… He decided to go the morning he and Aziraphale were going to meet. Wouldn’t that be a surprise, Aziraphale swimming over to meet him, and he could show up behind him, in the ocean of all places, and they could go off together.

The morning came and he set out on foot, only keeping a handful of things on his person that he thought were absolutely necessary to keep a hold of, as well as a map. If he could do this, he only had one chance to get it right. The only thing he was worried about was the payment. Nothing had ever specified what the payment would entail, and he was sure there was no actual money involved, but he was still afraid he wouldn’t be able to pay it.

He decided that he had made the right choice to walk across the top of the cliff once he made his way down the path, for there were lumps in the sand that definitely looked like someone else was walking around here recently. He didn’t like meeting people unplanned on a normal day, so on a day especially like this, it would have been awful to try and avoid questions and get around them.

Not far from there he found the entrance to a deep cave, the darkness almost seeping out of it into the daylight. He wasn’t sure if this was the right one, and couldn’t really tell from here anyway, but considering that the alternative was to cross a small stream of water from the ocean that he hadn’t accounted for, well, it couldn’t hurt to at least explore this one before ruling it out.

There was a little stone path along the side of the cave, jagged and slippery with condensation, but still accessible, still just wide enough for a person. He used the wall to guide himself and took it one step at a time, especially once the cave had become so dark, he couldn’t see the nearest stalactite in front of him. What made him think he had gotten lucky on the first try was the strange green light that started appearing from the cave in front of him, and though something about the glow sent chills down his spine, he continued forward anyway, determined to reach his goal.

When he found the source of the light, it gave him pause. It was a green square across from him, on the other side of the cavern wall, but something about it seemed unnatural, even for a piece of magic. Yellow bars ran through the green, almost hidden under the intensity of the glow, but they were still there, and they seemed almost like… like the bars of a jail cell. He couldn’t help but stop and stare, watching the minute swirls in the green, and slowly, ever so slowly, he started hearing things.

Don’t go in… turn back… leave this place… get out…

These words swirled around him, growing in volume, but the green was still mesmerizing, almost calling out to him, begging him to leave but pleading with him to touch it…

“Hey!” a new voice cut through the noise, silencing everything else and snapping Crowley out of his trance. There was a man coming from further into the cave, holding a very normal torch, with normal, orange fire. He was scowling at something, nearby, though Crowley couldn’t quite place his gaze. Though, Crowley did notice his own arm had raised towards the green, so he somewhat ashamedly let it fall to his side once more.

“What is that?” he asks the new guy in an attempt to say something casual.

“... security,” he answers simply, looking over Crowley. Crowley takes the brief pause in the conversation to really look at the man now too, from his strange, rugged clothes to the sharp fingernails, and to the top hat resting precariously on his head. From this close, his dark eyes looked dangerous, with little white and no way to tell where the iris ended and the pupil began. Something about him seemed not entirely… human. “Are you here for a deal then?”

“I suppose I am. Would you be the mage I’m looking for?”

He smirked at Crowley. “I suppose I am. Follow me, and we’ll get this sorted out.”

Together they travel further into the cave until the channel of water finally ends and the rock spreads out to fill the cave floor. A table and a chair were sitting there, waiting, and as soon as they arrived, the man took the seat and turned to Crowley.

“The name’s Lucifer. I deal in a magic of sorts, for the right payment. Loads of people come to me asking for things. They want to be taller, they want to be more pretty, blah blah blah. I’ve seen it all, really. Nothing can surprise me now. So I’m really hoping that whatever you’re searching for isn’t about what you’re hiding behind those glasses, because that is really lame.”

He instinctively reached for his sunglasses, letting his fingers trail around the rim before quickly dropping his hand once more. He hadn’t even thought of that – with a snap of this mage’s fingers, his eye problem would be solved. He might be able to live a normal life, walking around without sunglasses, and without stares, and without all those stupid questions. Everything would be better.

And yet…

And yet Aziraphale had been the first to ask politely why he was wearing sunglasses in the dead of night, and was definitely the first to ever compliment him on them. Yes, it was clear to him what his decision is, what it always has been and always will be. He shook his head, making Lucifer smile.

“Yes, I didn’t think so. So, what can I offer you today?”

“I want to be a merman,” Crowley said, confidently, but under the smirk Lucifer was giving him, he seemed less sure, more uncomfortable about his statement than he was before, even though he knew it was the truth.

“Most humans don’t even know the merfolk exist. You must be a real curious type to have found out about them. Tell me, why would you rather give up your legs for a tail?”

“I…” Well, there were a few answers he could give him. The way the others treated him, how he ran a not so successful shop that was doomed to fail under the strict regime of Beelzebub, how he just wanted a fresh start… but he knew, deep down, that none of those were the real reason, that nothing could compare anymore to his real desire. “There’s someone I’d – I’d like to meet.”

“You’ve fallen in love with a little mermaid, haven’t you! Now that sure is something. Do you really know what they’re like down there?”

“Er, a little?”

“What makes you think this mermaid–”

“Merman,” Crowley corrected with a flush.

Though it seemed impossible, his smile grew even further. “What makes you think this merman will like you? Or even accept you? There’s a steep cost to this magic, I’ll have you know.”

He took a deep breath, steadying himself before he said, “I don’t care what the price is. It’s… He’s too important to me.”

“I think we’ve just struck a deal then, darling.” He dipped a quill into the waiting ink pot, tapped off the excess ink, and started to write out something on a piece of parchment in front of him. “I’ll give you a tail for three days. By sunset on the third day, you will have to confess these feelings to this merman of yours. If you do, you can keep the tail.”

“And what happens if I don’t?”

“Then your soul belongs to me. But, if you’re so sure about this merman, it shouldn’t be a problem, right?”

Crowley sighed, tightening his hands into fists before giving a sharp nod. “Alright.”

“You’ll just need to sign your name on the line, then.” He passed the paper and quill over to Crowley. Then, leaning in, he said, “Oh, and you can’t swim with these.” He plucked the sunglasses off of Crowley’s face, leaving him to blink as he adjusted to the light, startled. “I think I’ll hold onto them. You’ve got a nice style.”

He felt more vulnerable than he had ever felt before, standing in the cave all alone, without his sunglasses, but if this meant he could be with Aziraphale, a brief moment where he felt uncomfortable would be worth it. He scrawled his name on the line, and the paper started to glow as soon as he lifted the quill after he finished the ‘y’. The light engulfed Crowley, lifting him off of the ground, and he screwed his eyes shut against the intensity of it.

After feeling the splash of cold water engulfing him, Crowley finally opened his eyes, and he saw the flickering light of the torch above him, warped by the surface of the water. He looked down immediately after that, spinning in circles as he tried to get a good look at the new tail he had, before remembering if it worked anything like legs, he could bring it up in front of him. When he figured that out, he ran his hand over the scales, going towards his stomach to feel all the rough edges, then traveling down to smoothly glide over them. He let go of his breath suddenly, not realizing he was holding it, being so used to not being able to breathe underwater. On his next inhale he could feel the water rushing through him, chilling his insides as the water filled his lungs, filtering out the oxygen for him.

The dim lighting made it hard to tell what color his tail was, so, as quick as he could, he started to make his way through the maze of stalagmites in the water, learning how to swim with his tail and hitting his head a lot. He barely noticed that green glow this time, hurrying out to the sea and the sunlight. At the mouth of the cave he looked down again, slightly disappointed that, out of every color he could have gotten, it was black freckled with a copper red. Oh well, he never asked specifically about color, and at least it functioned the way he wanted it to. The details weren’t important, it was about getting to Aziraphale.

Speaking of which, at this point, he might be a little late for their meeting, but he hoped Aziraphale would wait a while for him and just think he’s running late. He can’t wait to see the look on Aziraphale’s face when he sees what Crowley did.

The only troubling thing was that, if he didn’t tell Aziraphale how he felt soon, he would lose his soul. But, it wouldn’t be too hard.

Right?

All he would need was a little bit of confidence, and if he could stand up to the mage and ask for a mermaid tail, he could tell Aziraphale how he felt, no matter how Aziraphale felt about him. Though, that might be a bad thing, if he didn’t feel the same way… No. Don’t think about that. One thing at a time. Crowley left the cave and swam along the shore, heading for their meeting spot, where Aziraphale was surely waiting.

~~~

Aziraphale felt he had gotten used to the legs enough about halfway to his destination, finally letting go of the cliffside and putting his whole weight on his feet. He supposes he was lucky that Lucifer didn’t twist his words around and gave him something he could actually walk on. That hadn’t even been a thought of his until now, as he was too focused on trying to get to Crowley.

Finally spotting the rocks they usually met on, though only just, since he had never seen them from this angle, he carefully lowered himself down on the place he had laid Crowley down that fateful day. Soon, Crowley would show up, so he sat and waited expectantly. And he waited. And he waited.

… and he waited.

Crowley seemed to be running late. It wouldn’t be the first time, and he himself has been late before too, trying to get around Gabriel and the others. But, wearing as many layers as he was now, it was getting hot. And just sitting there on the dark stones was making it worse. There was a small reprieve in the ocean’s mist whenever a wave crashed against the shore, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough.

Aziraphale figured, instead of waiting around and baking in the sun like a lemon tilapia, he would go and meet Crowley. It couldn’t be that hard, could it? Climb the path up the cliff, find the nearest town, and from there, either find Crowley, or find his shop and meet him there. There was no way it could be that hard, and considering he was risking his soul here, he felt more brave than he ever had before.

It turned out to be more challenging than Aziraphale expected. It wasn’t hard, per se, but difficult. Before he stood in front of the dark storefront, its paper sign dangling in the window to say that it was closed, he had to pass many different humans with many different objects he had never seen before. He marveled as a young boy rode past him on some kind of two wheeled contraption, and the wheels didn’t even have handles like all the ship wheels did. He spent at least five minutes bent over a fire hydrant trying to figure out what it was supposed to be, and don’t even get him started on the traffic lights. He was sufficiently distracted the whole way to the plant store that by the time he realized he had arrived at his destination, he also realized he hadn’t been paying attention to see if he had passed Crowley on the streets. Hopefully, Crowley would have recognized him if he had, and would have approached him, so, more than likely, they had missed each other because they were on different streets.

So, since the shop was closed, and it was still hot out, even if the striped awning provided ample shade, Aziraphale decided to try and get in. He tried to pull at the door, but it wouldn’t budge. Pushing it provided the same results. Once he had given that up, he remembered Crowley talking about something, about how he had ‘locked up’, so the doors were probably locked, being that no one was here. But how would he be able to ‘unlock’ it?

As he thought, his eyes fell to the plants outside, their leaves perfectly green and luscious and verdant. They looked beautiful, no matter the type; some of them had spikes, some were budding, others still blooming, and look, that one has spots– spots. Crowley had said something about a spotted aloe, hadn’t he? Is that even an aloe plant? There was no way for him to tell, and he didn’t want to ask anyone else in case he revealed Crowley’s secret, so instead, he decided to shift the plant’s pot ever so gently to see if it was, indeed, hiding something.

The sunlight reflected off of something shining on the ground, so Aziraphale stopped to pick it up. He wasn’t quite sure what it was, but it looked to be just thin enough to fit in that strange slot on the door. Maybe if he could get it in, give it a quick spin… The first try, it wouldn’t go in the slot all the way, so there was no spinning, either. Determined, Aziraphale flipped it over and was surprised to find it did go all the way in, and then, even more surprising, when he turned it, he felt something else shift within the door. He attempted to push it again, and this time, the door swung open, hitting a few tinkling bells along the way, probably to signal someone opened the door.

Hesitantly, Aziraphale stepped in and closed the door behind him, hitting the bells once more. It was definitely cooler in the darker shop, begging Aziraphale to take a step further in so he could cool off. Once the bells had quieted, he asked, “Crowley?” and immediately felt foolish. Of course he wasn’t here. The lights were off, the door was locked, and the sign said it was closed. No matter, Crowley was sure to come here eventually. It would be better to wait here for him than to go searching for him and miss him again. So, while he waits… would it be bad to acquaint himself with the shop some? Get to know what Crowley does every day, something else he seemed passionate about, and maybe, possibly, learn some more about Crowley from it?

He found a switch on the wall labeled ‘off’ and flipped it up, so it now said ‘on’, and was delighted to see the lights come on in the shop. Surely, as long as he didn’t mess anything up, Crowley wouldn’t mind.

Rows of plants here, rows of plants there… these have large leaves, these don’t have any leaves at all, oh, these smelled absolutely delightful… Aziraphale enjoyed himself as he walked around the shop, perusing the plants and marveling at their diversity, for he was sure he had never come across this many aquatic plants. Not in his region, anyway, strewn with shipwrecks that blocked much of the ground space for the plants. He’s seen seagrass, and seaweed, and kelp… or were those last two the same? Whatever they were, there wasn’t a wide variety of them. Not like the fish… clownfish, blue tang, flounder, salmon, dolphins…

The tinkle of the bells on the front door rang out in the shop and caught his attention, and he turned to the door with a delighted smile, ready to greet Crowley on land for the first time. Oh, what would he think? What would he say? He should apologize for missing their meeting, first off…

Except, it wasn’t Crowley.

In the doorway, hand spread wide against the glass of the door to keep it open, was a person he had never seen before, much less heard Crowley describe. Their dark black hair hung around their face in a sort of bob, but it was more wild and unruly than he had ever seen. They seemed like exactly the kind of person he would want to avoid, but seeing as they were staring at each other, he had no choice.

“Where’s Crowley?” they said, disdain and disgust evident in their voice.

“I’m sorry?”

“The owner of this – place. I need to speak with him. Where is he?”

Aziraphale started to panic. He remembered Crowley had wanted to leave the place because of some of the people he lived near, but he hadn’t imagined they were this bad – just as bad as Gabriel and them. “Oh, uh – he’s in the – the back, trying to find something.”

“I don’t have the time for this.” They look at the watch on their wrist impatiently, their other hand still plastered to the door. “Tell him his rent is due tonight, or he won’t like the consequences I’ll bring around tomorrow. And that keeping the sign flipped to closed does not deter me.”

He gulped. “Right, I’ll just – I’ll be sure to pass along the message.”

The door swung shut again as they left, and once Aziraphale was sure they were gone, he hurried over to fiddle with the lock and close it again before turning off the lights. Once the shop was submerged in darkness once more, and he had to resort to using the sunlight filtering in through the window to get around the plants, there was only one thought racing through his mind, racing at a speed that might have rivaled his heartbeat. Where is Crowley?

~~~

Of all the things Crowley expected to have to grow used to now that he could live and breathe underwater, he wasn’t expecting his hair to be the strangest thing. He knew how to swim as a human, so the tail wasn’t too hard to learn. After that first breath, he couldn’t even feel that there was anything different going on with that. But his hair… Sure, like anyone with long hair, there were many things he could do with it on the surface. It would fall in his face when he leaned over, it would be immeasurably tangled when he woke in the mornings, and he could always pull it back if he needed. He felt that he had to take it out now, though, since he knew little to nothing about mermaids. Did they keep their hair down? Did they even have long hair? Did they tie it up? Either way, he was sure they didn’t tie it up with something made by humans. But now, the tides were pulling and twisting at it as he swam, making him aware of just how much the ocean moves, even under the water.

He was glad for the reprieve when he breached the water, his hair falling in curtains around his face like a red mop, dripping onto his shoulders and shining lightly in the sunlight. His heart started to beat faster as he approached the rocks, only to be met with disappointment, as there was no sign of Aziraphale. Figuring he was just running late, Crowley continued up to the rocks, taking Aziraphale’s usual spot and leaning his elbows against the rock, swishing his tail back and forth to use his idleness as some sort of practice. The last thing he would want was to slow Aziraphale down as they leave. So, he swam idly and waited, looking down to avoid the harsh light of the sun messing with his eyes. And he waited.

… and he waited.

By the time his hair was dry, falling in loose curls around his face because of the combined effect of the ocean water, the air drying it, and nothing else being done to it, he decided he must have come too late, and that Aziraphale had already waited for him and left. He supposed he would owe him an apology then, for making him wait, but he was sure once Aziraphale saw he had a fishtail now, it would explain by itself why he was late.

The cool water washed over him as he submerged once more, and he started to swim out to sea, the line of the rocks being distorted and slowly fading to blue behind him the further out he went. It was then that he realized Aziraphale never actually told him where he lived. He had made a few jokes about it before, and he knew he had a hidden cave, but he didn’t know where that might be, either. To find Aziraphale, and by extension, the rest of the merfolk, would be up to chance. Surely something would lead the way, right? There was something that would allow him to see?

He was sure about one thing – Lucifer was right, he didn’t need the sunglasses. They would have slipped from his face in the currents pulling at his hair, for starters, but the light down here didn’t affect him as much as it did on the surface. In fact, the further he swam, the darker it became. Did the water really block that much light?

That was when he saw it – the glimmer of a fishtail disappearing between the kelp, surely too large to be anything other than what he sought. If he continued in that direction, maybe he could…

Four merfolk rose up in front of him, arms crossed, effectively blocking his path. He stopped suddenly, not knowing what to do or say, but not wanting to brush past him either, as he felt that was the wrong thing to do.

“You’re not Aziraphale,” one of them says, swimming closer and scrutinizing Crowley under his gaze. His bright purple eyes were hard to ignore, and gave him an air of authority, and Crowley shrank under it. “Only Aziraphale ever returns from that direction. From near the surface.” He spat the word out as if it was a rotten piece of food, and Crowley decided he could absolutely not tell them the truth. At all. “Who are you?”

“I’m uh… I’m from a different group of merfolk. We live to the… north?”

He pursed his lips. “I don’t recall anything coming in recently about any visitors.”

“Oh, well we would have sent a message, but you know how snail mai– sea snail mail is. So unreliable. We haven’t been able to find a good snail in years.”

Some of the other merfolk in front of him seemed to believe his story, or at least start to, but the one talking to him still doesn’t seem to believe him.

“What happened to your eyes?”

He resisted the urge to flinch. Of course that would be one of their first questions. Somehow, though, he’s saved by one of the others, the one with the bright, obnoxiously white tail, as he swam closer to the purple one and said, quietly, “I’ve heard of a group with strange eyes, more reptilian than anything. I think they tend to live near swamps?”

Crowley made a mental note of that. If he had an excuse so easily handed to him, he needed to take advantage of it and not forget it.

“Alright. I’m Gabriel,” he said, turning his attention back to Crowley. “For you to have made it here, at this time of day… why, you must have swam all night! Surely you must be exhausted. It would be rude of us not to offer a fellow merperson a place to rest. Please, follow us, and we’ll find you a place to stay. There is extra room in my dwelling.”

“Er, yeah. Okay. Thank you.” He was skeptical about accepting the offer, but figured having a reason to hang around the other merfolk to find Aziraphale was better than nothing. He also wondered why they thought he would have swam all night and not just stopped for the night nearby… but he wasn’t going to voice that question out loud.

The four of them lead him onward, diving towards the ocean floor. From here, he could see just how many wrecked ships there were in the area. He understood how Aziraphale was able to collect as much junk as he had. Speaking of Aziraphale…

“Who is this Aziraphale you mentioned, if I might ask?”

The one with the gold tail looked back at him with a raised eyebrow. “He’s nobody.”

“Well – what is he doing so close to the surface?”

“He’s keeping an eye on the seabirds for us, making sure they won’t be a dangerous threat. With a tail as – unattractive as his, it’s doubtful he’ll be caught by one of those humans.”

Crowley doesn’t respond. Personally, he thought the color of Aziraphale’s tail was nice, and that it suited him. It wasn’t bright and flashy and in your face, and neither was he. He was soft, warm, and caring. If they really acted like this even behind Aziraphale’s back… well, he hoped he could find him soon.

As they grew closer to the sea floor, Crowley could see that rocks not only made up most of the shore, but were scattered along under the waves as well. It took him a while to see them for what they really were – the homes of the merfolk. Admittedly he only noticed because one of them swam out of it, but, that wasn’t an important detail. He swam in awe at the delicate architecture of it all. It must have taken lots of hard work to build all of the little huts, for each one was made of multiple large stones moved into place, some only needing one for each wall and the roof, others using two or three. Various kinds of curtains covered the entrances – some were made of old fish scales, some of sea shells, some of seaweed – anything they could find around the sea floor seemed to be present in the door coverings.

Of course the one they were headed for seemed to be the biggest. With as big of a head as Gabriel seemed to have, it made sense he would settle for nothing less. He wouldn’t even be surprised if there were two floors to it. He probably didn’t put any work into making it, either: either he moved in after someone else had left, or he instructed the others on how to build it for him.

“Here we are,” Gabriel said, escorting Crowley through the gaudiest seashell curtain and into the hut while the others waited outside. “There’s an extra kelp bed in the back, make yourself at home. You can stay as long as you like.”

“Thank you,” he said again, trying to swim away as fast as possible.

“Oh, and, uh…”

“Crowley,” he supplied as he regrettably turned back around, trying to focus on the dark stone walls instead of the merman.

“Crowley,” he repeated. “Don’t think you can stay here and be unbothered. We will need to know why you were here before you can leave.”

This startled him, though he tried not to give it away in his face. “Why?”

“We have to make sure you’re not here for – nefarious reasons, of course. Surely you know that not every group of merfolk get along peacefully. We have to make sure you’re not going to try and kick us out or anything. Goodbye!”

“And what happens if you think I am?” he called to Gabriel’s retreating form, but he disappeared through the curtain once more without answering, leaving Crowley alone in an otherwise foreign world. There was only one thought left racing in his mind almost as fast as his heart, Where is Aziraphale?

~~~

Crowley paced for a while in the stone hut. Well, pacing wasn’t really the right word to use anymore, was it? It was more like he swam anxiously from wall to wall, fretting about what to do. He would need to leave the hut to find Aziraphale, for surely, he would never check there. But, if he left, he might subject himself to the other merfolk, and only they knew what they were planning to do during this – interrogation. And Crowley was sure, if he had to sit through that, they’d see through his lie in a heartbeat.

It grew darker as the sun began to set, and he had actually gotten a nap in when Gabriel returned and pretending to sleep turned into actually sleeping, so he was surprised when he woke to find that, even though the light from the sun had disappeared, the merfolk had still found a way to see in the dark. Various objects around the place were glowing – barnacles and mosses on the walls, handfuls of shells decorating the seafloor and the paths between huts – there were so many different objects glowing, it seemed like there must have been some underwater glow in the dark paint.

When Gabriel was asleep, Crowley saw it as his chance to escape, even if he only left for a little while. He could search the area at least, and try to see if he could find Aziraphale. Hopefully, if there was anyone else still awake, they would pay him no mind.

As he swam swiftly between the huts, he looked for one that stood out from all the rest. Obviously it would be a terrible idea to peek his head into every single hut to see if that was Aziraphale’s, not to mention a huge invasion of their privacy. So, instead, he paid attention to the way they were decorated. Surely, each curtain blocking the door was chosen and made by the inhabitant, meaning they chose what they liked, or what they thought would look the best. Knowing Aziraphale, his would be different, for out of everything he had said, Crowley knew his tastes were unique. Hut after hut passed him buy – clamshells, conch shells, seaweed, fish scales that hopefully were collected after they fell off… it was all the same. There was nothing new. Nothing different. Nothing he passed caught his eye, and certainly it never made him think of Aziraphale.

Just as he was on the verge of giving up, just as he was approaching the edge of the little town, he knew he had found it. Who else would use broken glass, fragments of bottles made by humans that had their sharp edges smoothed away by the rough currents of the ocean? For the unassuming eye, and to anyone unfamiliar with it, they might never have known. Aziraphale probably passed it off as seaglass. But because Crowley was a human, and because he had grown up and lived around so many glass bottles and windows and decorations and things, he could tell it was man made.

Ever so cautiously, he approached the hut, slowly pushing the curtain to the side and trying to make as little noise as possible. “Angel?” he asked as he peeked his head in, but as he brought the rest of himself in as well, his heart fell. There was no one in the hut. No one looking over the strangely fabricated books in the corner, no one sitting in the replica human chair, and certainly no one in the bed. It was empty, and suddenly, Crowley was filled with a mix of emotions.

Where would Aziraphale have gone? Had he found a way to leave the other merfolk without telling Crowley? Did he even want to tell Crowley? Perhaps it was a time based thing, and the only chance he had was a time where he couldn’t say goodbye. Or something else happened? Something… bad? Could a shark have gotten to him? Or worse – another human?

There were too many possibilities, too many different scenarios rushing through Crowley’s head, and his hands found the sides of his face and buried themselves into his hair as he sunk to the floor, trying to silence them, trying to clear out a space to think properly. He felt knots tangled in his hair and tugged at them with his fingers, trying to do anything to focus his mind to, and that was when he saw something glittering in the sand, caught in the pale moonlight weakly making its way through the water.

He moved over to it and dusted it off, uncovering a candlestick that was undoubtedly human. That was when he remembered the grotto. Aziraphale had said that no one would understand his fascination with the humans, that everyone was always warned to stay away from them. When he went out exploring and found something he couldn’t help but pick up, he hid them away. Maybe something had happened and he was staying there for the night. No, he wasn’t going to let his brain continue down that path again. Whatever did happen to Aziraphale, he was sure he would find something if he could find the grotto. But first, there were merfolk to deal with. Best to get back to Gabriel’s hut before he noticed so he could figure everything out.

~~~

Aziraphale had not meant to find the door blocking the stairs to the flat above, but really, what else was he supposed to do? Without Crowley, who still hadn’t appeared, he was running out of options. And this door was unlocked, so it was all too easy to carefully climb the stairs to see what the flat held. Who knows, maybe he could even find the money Crowley needed to give to that person. Well, first he’d have to figure out how money even worked…

The door at the top of the stairs creaked open at his touch, and he was disappointed to find that upstairs had many similarities to the store below. It was dark for one, especially now that the sun had set, and, more importantly, it was devoid of Crowley. He gave up the secret hope he was harboring that Crowley had somehow managed to sleep through an entire day. Perhaps he was sick and had to stay in bed. But, seeing as everything was in the same room, with only a small bathroom walled off separately, he could see that the bed was perfectly made, untouched and devoid of life.

Of course, there were a number of reasons Crowley wasn’t there. Aziraphale tried to be rational about it. Perhaps Crowley simply forgot about their meeting that day and was away, or some emergency popped up that he had to travel for. He had heard that humans traveling long distances had it better than the merfolk; they could rent a room in a ‘hotel’ for the night and sleep there instead of having to find a nice comfortable spot on the seafloor while also avoiding the local fish. Surely there was a good reason for him to be missing, and he would show up tomorrow, just in time to pay his rent and stop whatever bad thing that person had been threatening.

There was a part of his brain, however, that was irrational. He tried to restrain it, keep it under control, but the best he could do was not let it dominate his mind. So, as he calmly explored the place, looking at the few books on his shelf and the kitchen appliances on the counter and all the other things he could not name, the irrational thoughts would creep up before disappearing again.

Maybe he left. Maybe he didn’t want to say goodbye to Aziraphale, or didn’t have a choice. Maybe he finally found that way to get out of here, like he had tried the day Aziraphale saved him. Maybe, maybe, maybe. But there was nothing definite about maybe, and he didn’t want to make assumptions, especially on an irrational thought, so he swept them to the side, casting them out over and over and over.

Something must be done about the other humans, though. If they come back before Crowley, how would he explain to them what he was doing there? Clearly, he was seen as a customer earlier, and he had used the excuse that Crowley was finding something for him. Would they think he had been attempting to rob the place? Was there a way he could, if needed, leave the building unnoticed? Slip away from them, out a side door, perhaps?

In the middle of his thoughts a yawn struck him, and for a brief second, he was acutely aware of how late it was getting. Rubbing his eyes, he realized even in this form, he will still need sleep. Seeing as he was uncertain when Crowley would be back, he decided there would be no harm in using his flat for the night. The bed was too well made, too pristine, too personal, so he decided to leave that alone. But, the sofa looked to be just as soft, and there were already a few pillows and a blanket on it. He could sleep there for the night, and find out what tomorrow would bring in the morning. Some sleep would refresh him, and hopefully, he could see things in a new light. Both literally and metaphorically.

~~~

If there was one thought Crowley had never thought of regarding the merfolk, it was what they ate. Fish ate a number of things – whales filtered krill through the water they breathed, some fish ate other fish, some ate algae, and none of that sounded like anything a human would eat, even if they were half fish. Once he could no longer feign sleep though, fearful of Gabriel if he attempted it for any longer, knowing his time was already a third of the way gone, he found himself with a bowl of sea salad in front of him.

“Uh – can I ask what’s in here?”

“Oh, you know. The usual.” He didn’t offer any more than that.

“Right…” the low rumbling in his stomach won out over his hesitancy to try anything new and unknown, so he ate as quickly as possible, trying not to taste anything and just eat for the sake of needing food.

After they both ate, Gabriel turned to him expectantly, and Crowley’s blood ran cold.

“Are you prepared to leave, then? I can gather a few of the others and we can go through the questions before your departure. It shouldn’t take long before you’re on your way once again.”

“Well… I was actually wondering if anyone here knew the history of this place?” Crowley bluffed, struggling for reasons to stay. “The architecture is just – fascinating. We don’t have anything like this in the swamps. Honestly, our homes aren’t that great. Just – piles of twigs or in the space between tree roots, you know?” He laughed, but Gabriel remained calm and cool, so the laugh faded into awkward silence as he wondered why he had even laughed at all. “I’d like to live in something more hospitable, maybe take the designs back home with me?”

Gabriel narrowed his eyes. “You’re interested in our homes? Are you sure you only want to take the designs home, and not try and invade to take them for yourselves?”

“Oh, no, certainly not. There are a lot of – others – really attached to their tree roots. And I mean who wouldn’t, it is a solid foundation for a house, if a little small under there. My point is, we don’t want to move. Those of us living in piles of twigs just want something that won’t fall over… every time one of those nasty human boats cuts through and disrupts the water.” He might have cut it a bit close there, but he figured he could find a solid foothold in the conversation if he mentioned that humans were bad.

Gabriel scowled. “Oh, yes, those humans really do disrupt everything. Were it within my power, I’d rally the others and fight the humans off. The only thing that’s stopping me is how many of them live too far inland for us to do anything. We could fight as hard as we can, but they’ll just keep coming back.”

“Er, yeah. Right.”

“I’ll find someone who will be able to help you. I think Michael would be able to explain it better than I would. Stay here, and I’ll bring her back.” He swam away without waiting for a response from Crowley, but he didn’t mind. Crowley was just glad that his lie and everything he made up was believable enough to fool him for another day. His attention was drawn to voices just outside, and, unable to keep his curiosity in check, he swam closer to the door to listen.

“No one has seen Aziraphale since yesterday, Gabriel. Was it really a good idea to give him that assignment?”

“I’m sure he’s fine, Uriel. It wouldn’t be the first time no one saw him come back; he probably got back late last night and left early again this morning. But, if you’re really that worried, I’ll be sure to ask him to report what he’s been up to the next time I see him.”

Uriel scoffed. “I am certainly not worried about him. He could have run off to another group of merfolk for all I care. Let them deal with him instead. I was just informing you because if this continues, we should mark it down as suspicious behavior.”

“Well, I suppose… Perhaps he’s a little too eager to be that close to the humans. Could he have an ulterior motive for going out there? Meeting an accomplice, maybe?”

“Exactly. I don’t want to see our little town here crumble because of him.”

Crowley clenched his jaw, forcing it to stay shut and not reveal that he was eavesdropping. He almost couldn’t believe they knew the same Aziraphale, if only the name wasn’t so unique. Aziraphale was kind, and pleasant, and it always amused Crowley to watch him marvel over the human objects they would talk about. If anything, his accomplice was Crowley, as they kept meeting while he was out. If Aziraphale came back to their questioning, would he be able to last? Would they find out that he was spending time talking to a human? Would they realize that Crowley was that human, somehow disguised as one of their own? Most importantly, if they questioned Aziraphale, would that leave Crowley with enough time to confess his feelings before that dreaded sunset that seemed to be creeping ever so closer with no resolve in sight?

He doesn’t regret the possibility of giving up his soul to be with Aziraphale. He never would. But it was becoming more and more obvious that three days was no time at all, if anything, it wasn’t nearly enough for what he had to do. Aziraphale was somewhere that wasn’t here, and Crowley needed to find him, but he had just subjected himself to a history lesson and who knows what else to find out about these stupid rocks for who knows how long.

What was he going to do?

~~~

Aziraphale woke when the rays of the sun fell through the window onto his face, blinking dazedly as he sat up and surveyed the flat. Still no sign of Crowley. No sign that anyone other than himself had been there at all recently.

He went to stand, but he immediately fell back to the couch, as pressing his weight onto his foot caused a strange pain, like stepping on multiple small, sharp objects. It traveled up his leg, though, so he knew there was nothing he could have stepped on. What was the strange sensation? Did all humans experience this when they awoke in the mornings? That didn’t seem pleasant. He only wished there was someone around who could explain it, so then maybe his heart wouldn’t be beating so hard out of the fear of the unknown. He tested his weight once more, and while the pain was still there, hurt significantly less.

When he was finally able to stand again, he realized he was hungry. It had been a while since he last ate, obviously, but now he was stuck in a foreign place with no knowledge of what might be food or not. He could narrow some of it down, knowing that anything metal or hard certainly wasn’t food. But he had never managed to recover any food from shipwrecks, for it had turned to food for the other fish or dissolved in the salt water.

There were a handful of things sitting on the counter that didn’t fall into his list of things that aren’t food, so he decided to try a few to hold him over until he could find something proper. The results were as follows: the thin, white sheets in the holder were probably not food, as they were hard to even bite into, and they were extremely bland. The objects sitting in the bowl received a similar result – while on the outside, they looked like they might be food, and good food at that, the inside was awful, not to mention had a strange crunch and kept flaking apart once it was torn. However, the brown circles arranged on a platter that he had been skeptical about were delicious – they seemed to melt in his mouth, ensnaring all of his taste buds and catching them in its trap as he continued to eat more, and, somehow, the darker spots dotting the circle were even more delectable.

He didn’t get through the entire platter, unfortunately, for two reasons. The first was he felt it would be rude to eat all of them when they were Crowley’s, even though it was hard to restrain himself. The second was the strange crash from downstairs that froze him on the spot, unsure of who or what it may be. Muffled voices carried up from the floor below that were not Crowley’s, so he kept still to not alert them to his presence as he listened to them.

“Are you sure he’s not here, boss?”

“Yes,” said a familiar voice, and Aziraphale immediately placed it as the person who had stopped by yesterday, looking for their money. “Once I left the shop closed, and the building remained dark for the rest of the day.”

“You really think he ran?” Came a third voice, and while Aziraphale could not place the two men, not believing he had met them before, he was sure they were no one Crowley liked.

“Either he ran, or he’s closeby trying to pull favors. Either way, it’s too late. We’ll find out soon, because he’ll surely come running if he’s still close.”

The group fell silent, but Aziraphale could hear them toppling shelves on the floor below, crushing plants and vases and everything Crowley worked so hard to maintain. Aziraphale gripped the edge of the counter in an attempt to restrain himself, knuckles turning white. This was Crowley’s place. Even if he wanted to leave, it was still terrible to think of his reaction, to come back to a trashed store. And surely, seeing Aziraphale standing in the middle of it, knowing Aziraphale was there but didn’t try to stop it, would ruin everything Aziraphale was working towards.

He wanted to intervene just for this reason. He hated the thought of upsetting Crowley. But, in a foreign world, the humans would easily be able to outsmart and over power him. He thinks, he hopes, that Crowley would understand that he wanted to intervene, that everything inside him was screaming to, but he couldn’t, no matter how hard he tried.

“Alright, let’s get out of here.”

It seemed they were leaving as soon as they had arrived. Thinking the worst was over, Aziraphale cautiously walked towards the door, ready to survey the damage. How would Crowley be able to recover from this if they destroyed everything he had? Maybe he could find a way to help, he could see if any of the plants could be saved or something. But as soon as he opened the door, he knew something was off. He knew there was something wrong. He coughed as the smell hit him, as whatever smoke in the air was filling his lungs. He closed the door to try and stem the smoke for a little while, taking a deep breath of fresh air as he moved away. He didn’t know that it was possible for part of the air to be unbreathable. There was never anything like that underwater. Not where he lived, at least. Not that he could remember.

Just as he was gathering himself again, a piercing alarm started to blare through the air, the beeping so loud it seemed it was piercing his skull. He covered his ears, but the sound was still obnoxiously loud, it was still too much for him to bear. Seeing as he didn’t know how to stop it, either, he knew the only option left was to leave. He spotted a door in the far corner that he didn’t notice the night before and hurried over to it, removing his hands from his ears to wrench it open. Miraculously, there was a metal staircase on the other side of it, attached to the back of the building, so he hurried down it, into the fresh air. Outside of the building he could still hear the alarm, but it no longer bounced around in his skull, so he removed his hands from his ears and hurried around to the front. There was a small crowd gathered in the street, all watching the shop with looks of fear mixed with wonder. Aziraphale didn’t know what they were looking at until he joined them.

Crowley had told him about it once, but he had never seen it for himself. Fire was spreading through the shop, easily catching the plants with its flickering orange tongues as it spread from one to another. There seemed to be water showering down on it from the ceiling, but it was ineffective on the growing flames eating away at the inside of the shop.

Aziraphale took a step back, shaking his head. What was supposed to be possibly the greatest time of his life, finally getting to see everything he thought was wonderful up close, was turning into his worst nightmare. Worse than that, even. He tripped on the curb behind him as he took another step back, barely managing to recover his balance.

Was this really what the humans were like? Was this really their true nature, to destroy the property of another with no remorse, simply because they didn’t like each other? Is this why the others never liked humans, always wanted to stay away from them? He had never really believed half of the tales about humans that the merfolk spread, but after witnessing this first hand, it was hard to keep that up. Crowley had been nice, though. He had always answered his questions, he had never flaked on him, and – well, overall, he treated Aziraphale much better than his own people. Was it just a facade? Was his impression of Crowley false, a fabrication made up to cover the deeper, more sinister inner feelings?

When a new set of alarms started blaring in the distance, and the crowd looked toward the noise expectantly, he decided it was time to go. He didn’t know what it meant, but he didn’t want to see whatever it was. He slipped through them and made his way back to the beach, sitting in the shadows of the cliff and watching the waves crash against the shore in the distance. He hugged his knees to his chest, his eyes unfocused.

He didn’t know what to do anymore. He had signed over his soul for this, so sure it was the right thing. Now, he only wished he had thought more beforehand. The humans were terrible. Tears ran silently down his cheeks as he thought of everything he had hoped for, only for reality to smash that in his face.

There was no way Lucifer would take back the legs now, though. He didn’t need to take a trip back to the cave to know that. He had asked for them, Lucifer had done the magic, and the cost of his soul was still looming over his head when he didn’t even want them anymore. Perhaps there was a loophole… he had to tell Crowley his feelings before sunset tomorrow. Well, if he could just find the man, he could tell him just how awful humanity actually is, and unload his feelings on that. Surely, it would still count. Then he could go back to Lucifer and beg for his tail again, beg to be back in the ocean, where he’d forget about his grotto, or better yet, seal it off so no one could ever get in again.

He shook his head and rested it on his knees. It wouldn’t work. The instructions seemed vague, but they both knew what Lucifer meant when he gave Aziraphale the rules. It would only work if he told Crowley how he felt about him, meaning when he thought he might have loved him. Now, he was beginning to wonder if he had fallen in love with him, or just the concept of humanity. If he saw him again, he was sure he’d know the difference, but that seemed unlikely. He might as well resign himself to the consequences – tomorrow, when the sun set, his soul would belong to Lucifer. He didn’t want to just sit there until then, but he certainly didn’t want to go back up to the town, either. Not after everything that happened.

When he lifted his head again, he noticed in a small alcove a raft made of driftwood and broken ship parts. There could be only one person who it belonged to, he was sure. And really, he’d take anything at this point. It might be dangerous, but he didn’t care anymore.

The raft was surprisingly easy to move out to the ocean – just a few pushes through the sand, a few pulls across the rocks, and it was ready for him to push off, the waves lapping its edge. He held onto the mast, blocking the sun with his hand as he scanned the horizon. It didn’t look like there was any land in the vicinity other than what he was standing on, but surely, the ocean currents would take him somewhere if he could get out that far. What didn’t look promising were the storm clouds gathering on the horizon, but he didn’t care.

He pushed off of the land, hard, navigating the raft through the rough waves threatening to smash him and the raft back against the rocks, until finally, he breached the last large wave and made it to calmer water. He was soaked through, head to toe with the salt water, but he was more determined than ever to leave, pointing the raft towards the unknown.

~~~

Crowley was tired of rocks. He was so fucking tired, listening with empty ears and looking with empty eyes as he took in absolutely nothing of what he was told. If he had known the place started as the merfolks version of stonehenge, and most of what they knew was just speculation or theories, then he would have never brought it up. And from there, the continued building, moving rocks of their own in, and adding onto the existing structures, and a whole bunch of other bullshit that he had no care for. Each moment dragged on and on, eating away at the time he had left.

Once there was finally a break in the conversation, a spot he could worm his way into, he tried to take it over. He had to word it carefully, though, trying not to draw any suspicion when he asked, “Say, are there any caves nearby? Tunnels, grottos, any kind of landmarks like that? I, uh, I’ve always heard some of those are fascinating to explore.”

Michael raised an eyebrow, but otherwise he got away with it. “There are a few to the north, yes. We don’t use them though, for we find this a better way to live, and with all those shipwrecks over there, it can be hard to find the entrances sometimes.”

That was it. As soon as she said shipwrecks, he was sure that would be where Aziraphale had hidden his grotto. A secret cave hidden within the remains of a human made object? He was sure that he could find it there. It was just a matter of figuring out what shipwreck it was. Oh, and trying to leave.

“Is there anything else I can help you with?”

Sure, Crowley had a few other questions, like the bioluminescence of everything around them, and where the hell Aziraphale was, but he didn’t want to fall into another trap, learning about history he’ll probably forget about before long. There were parts of human history he couldn’t remember, even after learning it through school when he was younger, so he didn’t want to press the limits of his brain. “No, I don’t think I do.”

“Are you ready to leave, then?”

They sure did want him gone. Well, why not. Surely the wrecks were far enough away that he could spend the night searching through them without disrupting the merfolk here, so leaving would give him the perfect cover for it. There was sure to be a hint on where Aziraphale was in there, if he wasn’t there himself. There had to be. He had no other choice but to believe in it, because as time ticked steadily onward, he was growing closer and closer to losing his soul. He couldn’t keep it without Aziraphale. “Yeah, sure. Put together that – council or whatever. Give me the questions and send me on my merry way, down the currents.”

With as threatening as it had sounded before, the actual process was a piece of cake. Or whatever the equivalent would be underwater. His heart had raced, pounded against his chest as he thought of everything that could go wrong, every little thing they could ask that would give him away. But, when it came down to it, he lied easily, by the skin of his teeth, and he managed to push past them.

Before he knew it he was swimming out into open waters again, finally free of the burden of the others circling him like vultures and following every little movement he made. He understood why Aziraphale spent as long as he could away from them, making excuses to get away from their prying eyes. From the sounds of it too, he probably snuck away whenever he was able. All Crowley wanted to do now was find Aziraphale and protect him from the others, pull him away from all those prying and judging eyes that never stop watching, never stop looking.

He didn’t know what direction was what, especially under the water. All he knew was he needed to go north. Seeing as north was the shipwrecks, and it seemed like they might be hard to miss, he decided to swim off in one direction and circle the town in a wide berth. From there, he could continue onward when he found them, closer to finding Aziraphale.

Hopefully.

~~~

Aziraphale had seen storms before. He watched them all the time from under the water. Even though it was daytime, thick clouds would block out the sun's light, and the ocean would fall into darkness. He was mesmerized as streaks of light flashed across the sky, hopping from cloud to cloud as if it was their playground, where they could do anything they wanted until the sun broke through the clouds again and ended their fun. It was always so peaceful and calming to watch.

He never knew what it did to the surface.

Rain poured from the sky, hammering the restless waves endlessly, melting into the salt water. It gave him chills as it splattered against his clothes and skin, and combined with the wind, it chilled him to the bone. But still he persisted, trying to steer the raft over each swell, sighing every time he made it over a new wave before immediately being pushed into a new one. He had told Crowley when he saved him the first time that a simple raft was not enough to get into the open water, when the waves by the shore had smashed it against the rocks.

Now, he was wishing he had thought of his own advice. Another wave started to crest, the tip turning white with seafoam, just before he made it over the top, and as the raft floated down the other side, nearly vertical, he realized just how much of a mistake this was. This kind of weather seemed like it would be hard even for a proper ship to stay afloat in, and briefly, he realized that might be why there were so many sunk to the bottom of the ocean. Mother Nature takes no victims, no prisoners. There is no protection from her and her elements, no matter how hard someone may try to fight it.

When the next wave rose before him and his eyes followed, finding the top kissing the sky, he knew this was it. It started to crest before the raft had made it halfway up its slope, pouring salt water on top of him with a force hard enough to separate him from the raft. If he wasn’t completely wet before, he sure was now.

He was forced far underneath the rushing waves, but as soon as he stopped moving downward, he struggled and kicked with all his might to get back to the surface. Swimming as a human wasn’t anything close to what he was used to, but he still won his fight to the surface, gasping as he finally felt the cold wind biting at his face once more. It wasn’t long before a new wave crashed on him again, and the vicious cycle continued.

Soon, he ran out of energy to fight the rushing water. He wasn’t getting enough oxygen between the waves before he was sent under again. If only he could still breath the water, then he would be fine. Then the taste of salt wouldn’t fill his mouth, and his senses wouldn’t be slowly fading away from him.

The next wave that hit, he went under, but this time, he didn’t struggle to the surface, like all the other times. He slowly floated up instead, bobbing along in the waves, having fallen unconscious. The rest of the world was lost to him – all he knew was cold, and dark. There was nothing left.

~~~

Shipwreck. Shipwreck. Is that – yep, another shipwreck. There were more around than Crowley thought. Perhaps he had imagined only a few, larger boats, like the galleons that the media always assumed are strewn along the bottom, lost to the depths. But no, many of them were smaller. Rowboats and sloops were prevalent, though there were a few larger ships in the midst. All of them were wooden, and, considering the state they were in, covered in sea life, they had all been there for a while. The area must have been popular for pirates.

He started with the ones closer to him. From there, he could work his way across the graveyard, making sure he checked each ship, or, in some cases, each half of a ship. He didn’t know what he was looking for, other than a cave. And, even though there was little chance the other merfolk would ever purposefully come out here, much less search around, Aziraphale might have hidden the entrance, so that made his job even more difficult.

He examined each floor board, seeing if any were loose and easy to move, possibly hiding the entrance of a cave under it. He moved all the stones he could. Chests and wardrobes and other things he could move easily. It would be a long, tedious job, but he had no other choice if he wanted to find the cave. If he wanted to find Aziraphale.

There was no choice but to continue to search, to fight to ship after ship after ship, even if his stomach had begun to growl and he was growing tired. He would lose his soul tomorrow if he couldn’t find Aziraphale. That thought alone was enough to push past everything he knew he probably needed, ignoring the bad feelings, like the one that seemed like he was being watched. Of course he was. He was in the ocean surrounded by fish. Who knew what fish might lurk around the corner, or might have camouflaged itself to hide along the ground, or was otherwise peeking out of an orifice. They were everywhere, much like bugs in the human world that always found their way inside, invading everyone’s space, whether they were wanted or not.

Figuring that he and Aziraphale most likely had similar arm strength, he ignored anything he couldn’t move, but that didn’t mean he didn’t try to move it. He would push, and pull, and prod, and nudge, but only after determining he couldn’t move it would he give up, move on to the next thing in the ship.

His mind did wander a few times, admittedly. Who could see a sunken ship with chests and not think of treasure? But it wasn’t the time to think of treasure hunting, to think about the amount of gold that could be lost here among the broken wood. With that gold, he could certainly leave his life behind and figure out something else. But he wouldn’t have Aziraphale. Maybe, together, they could go treasure hunting on their own across the ocean, finding broken ships and exploring their depths, and he could watch first hand how Aziraphale reacted when he found a new object. Yes, he thought that sounded wonderful. He would have to remember that when he found Aziraphale.

If.

No, don’t think like that. When. It’s when he finds Aziraphale. He picked a hell of a time to disappear for a while, but he would find him. He was certain of it. Why would he have gone through all of this trouble if Aziraphale was never around for him to find? He would find him.

He would.

~~~

“Anathema, there’s a man!”

Aziraphale stirred, slowly trying to take in his surroundings. He could feel sand – it was under his hands as they dug into it, it was under his head as he coughed water onto it, it was under all of him. He was laying on it, washed up somewhere after the storm. He supposed he was lucky, but he could barely focus on anything. Everything felt cold still, and he was woozy, which meant when he tried to open his eyes, they fluttered closed once more. It was too bright. Everything had been cold and dark when he fell unconscious, and they wanted to linger. They didn’t want him to take in the warmth and light that the sun was now beating down on him.

He had, however, caught glimpses of a few kids looking at him, concerned, and he assumed their leader was the one bounding back over to him, his curly brown hair falling into his eyes as he led a woman over.

“Help me get him up.” Her voice was soft, and for a moment, it made Aziraphale forget about his previous revelations about humans. However, as they helped him stand, and let him lean on them as they walked him back to the beachside house, he couldn’t bring himself to struggle against them. He would just – be on his guard is all. After that trip through the ocean, being able to rest anywhere on dry land was better than nothing.

They led him to a table, lowering him into a chair. They were both wooden, so they provided little comfort, but at least they were solid, firm, and still. Internally, he could still feel the rushing, beating waves tossing him around like he was their toy. Resting on something solid slowly eased that feeling away, but it was quickly replaced by another. He turned his head to find a handful of kids staring up at him, eyes wide with curiosity. They seemed to be of an impressionable age, so he turned away before he started to ask the wrong things.

“Here. Drink this.” Anathema rested a mug on the table in front of him, then sat down with her own mug.

He looked upon it curiously, pulling it forward and staring at the brown and white mixture within. Hesitantly, he asked, “What is this?”

“It’s… cocoa? With Marshmallows? Have you never had any before?”

“I – can’t say that I have.” He regards it for a few more moments, but upon seeing Anathema drink from her own mug, assuming it was the same thing, then it must be safe. He uses the handle to pick it up, mirroring Anathema, and the next time she takes a drink, he brings it to his lips, taking a sip. The taste of warmth mixed with sweet floods his mouth, settling in his bones as it works to expel the cold. It was almost like those spots in the food he had before, except in a liquid form. Excitedly, he took another drink.

Having finished the mug, he sat it on the table once more and asked, “That was scrumptious. May I have another?”

Anathema raised an eyebrow, but a small smile formed on her face as she nodded and abandoned her own to get him a refill. The kids were still there, but they also had their own mugs of cocoa, and seemed to be more interested in the drink than him for the time being.

As she made him another drink, Anathema started asking questions. “The kids found you on the beach while they were playing. There was a bad storm yesterday, were you thrown from your ship in the midst of that?”

“...yeah, something like that.” He paused for a moment before asking, “Wait, did you say yesterday?”

“Mhmm. It was late in the afternoon, early evening. Must have been out there all night, it’s honestly a miracle you were able to survive.” She handed him the refilled mug back and returned to her seat.

Aziraphale swirled it around in his hand a few times, watching the marshmallows melt from the heat of the liquid. If what she said was true, then today was the last day. He had until sundown before… well, he’d rather not think about that.

“You’re welcome to stay here until you recover. I can’t even imagine what it would be like to be tossed in those waves with as bad as they looked last night. If you need anything, let me know. I’m sure the kids are begging to ask you questions, but I told them to let you rest. I can’t promise they’ll stay quiet for long, though.” She chuckled softly.

“...Thank you.” He drinks his cocoa again to try and avoid any more conversation, but as it warmed him from the inside out, he thought it was warming something else, too. Maybe… maybe not all humans were bad. Maybe he had just run into the worst of the worst. Humans had their flaws, sure, but could everyone really be judged on the flaws of a few? All of his mistakes, everything that led him to this point over the past few days flashed before his eyes, and he realized just how wrong he was. Crowley had told him about how awful some of the people in his town were, but he didn’t listen. He didn’t listen, and now he had no idea how to get back. His heart started beating in his chest with renewed vigor, and there was one thing he knew for certain.

He needed to find Crowley.

~~~

Finally. In the largest of the ships, in the middle of the wrecks, he finally found it. It made sense; it seemed the least likely place any other merperson would look. Just push the chest to the side, pull the sea moss curtain aside, and there was a cave entrance large enough for a merperson to fit through. He dove head first into the cave, propelling himself forward through the twists and turns, watching it grow darker and darker, until finally, he burst through a hole in the floor of a large underwater cavern. There were holes in the walls that let the light of the sun in, filling the place with enough light to see, but only large enough for some of the smallest fish to fit through, rendering the hole in the floor the only entrance.

Crowley froze on the spot for a second, spinning around and marveling at just how much junk Aziraphale had collected. There were natural outcroppings all over the place, acting like little shelves, which were completely full with all manners of items, ranging from trash to treasure, piled around the holes so that they didn’t block the light. There were even piles of things spread around the floor, in seemingly no order, rhyme, or reason.

He knew Aziraphale collected human objects with no knowledge of what they were worth. Aziraphale had brought many of them to Crowley, asking what they were and how they worked. But he only ever brought a handful of things at a time. He never imagined the place would be this full.

Swimming over to one of the shelves, he found an assortment of hats and head coverings – pirate hats, captain hats, scarves, bandannas, all misshapen and waterlogged. On another shelf a pile of rings sat. There was no organization to them, and they were all different types too. Some were silver, others looked to be gold, some were plain, some were engraved, some had gems embedded in them, and overall that pile alone must be worth a small fortune.

In a corner of the cavern sat a pile of coins from all over the world. Euros of varying worths, American pennies, dimes, nickels, quarters, British pence of varying worths, even some he couldn’t identify, and some that seemed to date back a long time ago.

The place was a treasure trove in the literal sense. If a human happened across all the gold and jewelry and other valuables, they surely wouldn’t be able to resist, the thought of being able to hold so much money in their hands to call their own too grand an idea to pass up. Or, perhaps a historian would be the one to stumble across it, amazed by the collection of so many old artifacts that they could take back with them and study, and maybe eventually sell them to display at a museum.

But there was another sense of the word as well. This was Aziraphale’s treasure. The broken glasses, fractured plates, and dented telescopes anyone else would have looked over are sitting there, on the shelves or floor of the cavern, because Aziraphale saw worth in them. He purposefully pulled them from the wrecks and brought them all together in his own little space, where he can see them every time he enters, cherish them, and whatever else he does with them. One man’s trash is another man’s treasure, but with Aziraphale, it was literal. This was what was important to him, this is what he loved, and being there, surrounded by the collection, Crowley felt he understood him a little more.

While it was fun to marvel at everything, there was still a problem. One little, itty-bitty losing his soul problem. Where was Aziraphale?

~~~

Aziraphale might be across the room, currently engaged in the children’s argument over seashells, but he could still hear the conversation on the other side of the room between Anathema and the young man that just walked in. He was still skeptical, of course, so why wouldn’t he listen in as Pepper loudly fought against anyone who didn’t believe the clam shell was the best seashell?

“Who is he?”

“I don’t know, Newt. I didn’t ask. The kids found him washed up on the shore, and he’s already had five mugs of cocoa since. He didn’t even know what it was when I put the mug in front of him.”

Newt furrowed his brow. “I can barely handle one before it’s too much sugar. You think he washed up from a shipwreck or something?”

Anathema looked over at Aziraphale with a frown and then used Newt’s shoulder to turn him away, leaning in as the rest of their conversation continued in hushed voices too quiet for Aziraphale to pick out over the rabble.

“But you can hear the ocean in a conch shell,” Wensleydale said.

“That’s nonsense. You probably just hear the ocean outside. We all live close enough to hear it.”

“What about a sand dollar?” Brian offered.

“Those aren’t even shells!”

“Yes they are! Why else would we see them on the shore?”

“They get washed in with the tide,” Adam interrupted. “I read about them once. They’re a type of sea urchin.”

The kids quiet down to ponder that for a second, and Anathema took their silence as an excuse to interrupt them. “You should be getting home, kids. Isn’t it about time for lunch?”

With a grumble, they all collectively agreed, and Aziraphale knew questions were going to follow once the last of the children filed out of the house. He began to prep in his head for possible questions and different scenarios, and, if anything else, how to excuse himself from the house to avoid them all.

Anathema took a seat again, looked Aziraphale in the eye, and said, “You’re not human.”

Now that wasn’t something he was expecting. “I – uh, what?” he fumbled, trying to regain his footing in a conversation that already took a turn he wasn’t expecting.

“You don’t have to say yes or no, I can tell. I don’t come from a renowned line of witches for nothing, afterall. Plus, everyone knows what cocoa is. I want to know why you appear human, and what you did to do it.”

“You’re a witch?” He was surprised, she didn’t seem like Lucifer. He thought they would be similar, but, apparently the idea that no human was the same as the others also extended to those who had magic. “Why do you want to know?”

“I fear you might be in danger.”

He blinked, surprised. Yes, he was certainly wrong about his last assumption about humans. This complete stranger, who didn’t even know his name, was concerned for his safety. That was certainly nothing he had ever expected. Because of the sincerity behind her voice, and the concern in Newt’s face, he opted to be truthful. “I… I fell in love with a human. I was told I could get legs and keep them if I told him how I felt within three days, but… things happened, and I haven’t been able to find him.”

She pursed her lips. “Who did you see?”

“He said his name is… Lucifer?”

“Shit. And let me guess, today is your last day.”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“You’ve made a deal with the devil. Not a devil, but the devil. Satan himself. He’s not going to let you complete your goal, he never was. All he does is collect the souls of those willing to risk anything for what they want.”

Aziraphale clenched his hands into fists, resting them on the table and pushing down firm against it. “Do you think he’s done something to Crowley?” he tried his best to keep his voice level, but just underneath, his emotions were bubbling against the surface, trying to break free. A mix of anger, and frustration, and concern, and worry, and a lot of other emotions he couldn’t identify, but he had to hold them back. There was no time for it.

“If Crowley’s the one you’re looking for… yes, it’s completely likely. Or at least done something to keep him away from you for the time being. Newt, I think we ought to call him.”

“Can you do it?” he asked, fishing a phone from his pocket and handing it to her. “You know how technology reacts around me, and this is too much of a delicate matter.”

Her face softened into a smile. “Of course. Why don’t you have a seat, and I’ll put him on speaker.”

“Who are you calling?” Aziraphale asked, concerned about bringing yet another person into the fray.

“Someone who might be able to help. Don’t worry, I won’t give away too much information.”

After pressing a few buttons, she set the phone down in the center of the table, the dial tone ringing out every few seconds as they waited for an answer. Even though Aziraphale didn’t know what it was, each time the tone rang through the room instead of a human voice, his anxiety rose, until he was left fiddling with his hands as they rested on the table by the time someone finally answered.

“Hello?” a woman’s voice echoed out of the speaker, sounding sultry and suggestive.

Newt cleared his throat. “Hello, Madame Tracy.”

“Newt, is that you?” Her tone had changed immediately, perking up to be inquisitive and friendly.

“It is. Do you mind putting Sergeant Shadwell on the line? It’s a matter of – well, it’s pretty important.”

“Yes, dear, I’ll have him for you in one moment.” She paused before saying, “This isn’t about the milk again, is it?”

“No, it isn’t. We just need to talk to him.”

“Alright.”

A few moments go by in silence before the sound of the phone being jostled on the other side comes through the speaker, and a loud, gruff, “Hello?” follows.

“Hello, Sergeant Shadwell,” Anathema said, beginning the conversation, but she was swiftly cut off by the other man.

“Oh, you’re that witch that lives by the beach, aren’t ye? I don’t want to consort with your kind, I don’t care if you’re vouched for…”

“We need your help finding another witch,” she said sweetly, trying to win him over. “Well, the books will call him a mage, but he’s not entirely a witch…”

“Hmpf. Wouldn’t happen to be Lucifer, would it?”

She blinked, surprised. “How did you know?”

“Been tracking him for a while now. Lives in a cave by the town over. Was thinking about going there myself soon, but if you youngsters want to give it a go,” he chuckled.

Newt shook his head and mouthed, “He wouldn’t have gone.”

“Anyway, if you’re heading that way, tell the laddie to bring his best tools, and be on high alert. That’s a tricky one, there, I’ll say.”

“Thank you.” She hung up quickly before they wasted any more time on the phone. “Well then. Let’s go confront Satan.”

~~~

“Found you.”

Crowley froze while examining a shelf full of silverware – that wasn’t the soft, warm voice of Aziraphale. It certainly wasn’t even a friendly voice. To his horror, when he turned around, Gabriel was there, his arms crossed, and three of the others were following out of the hole – the three that had intercepted him when he first found their town.

“I told you he was up to something,” Michael said, examining the walls with disgust. This was bad. This was very very bad. He had somehow managed to lead them straight to Aziraphale’s stash, to the place Aziraphale stored everything he loved.

“You – followed me?”

“Of course we did. You’ve been suspicious since the beginning. ‘Sea snail mail.’ What even is that? Plus your questions while I was telling you about our huts were not disguised as well as you thought.”

“Oh.” He glanced around helplessly, hoping for another exit he could take that he previously missed, but there was nothing. They were blocking the only way he could escape them, which means he had no choice but to face them.

“How long have you been hiding out here, collecting these – human objects?” Gabriel asked, arching an eyebrow. “Did we manage to catch you while you were looking for more? What are you going to use them for?”

“They’re not mine,” he said hastily, backing into one of the shelves and pressing his hands against the wall. “I – I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Oh, so you just happened to know the secret entrance to this cave?”

“No, I–”

“And you expect us to believe all these things made it here naturally? On their own?”

He pressed himself further against the wall. “No, of course not–”

“Who did it then? Why are you here? How did you know about this place?”

“It’s Aziraphale’s!” Shit.

The others didn’t react immediately. They were quiet for a while, the weight of his accusation hanging between them for far too long.

“I see.” Gabriel swam closer to one of the shelves, slowly, deliberately, and said, “I had a feeling he was a traitor for a while now. I guess his trips close to the surface were to meet you, then? No matter. You’ll both be dealt with shortly.” He reached out to the shelf and swiped his hand across it, sending everything that was carefully stacked on it tumbling to the ground.

“No!” Crowley yelled, but he was powerless against it. At his cue, the other merfolk followed suit – broken plates shattered even more against the stone, old clothes thrown to scatter and be shredded by other fallen objects, there was nothing they would spare. Aziraphale’s treasures were being ruined, it was all his fault. If only he hadn’t even gone to Lucifer in the first place.

Lucifer… that was it, he would have to go back to him. He could explain that everything went wrong, that Aziraphale was nowhere to be found, and ask for an extension, ask for some help before his soul was taken. It really didn’t seem fair that he never even got the opportunity to see Aziraphale since, much less talk to him. Maybe too, he could get him to fix what was going on, the mess he was making of everything Aziraphale loved.

While the others were distracted, he took the opportunity to dive back through the hole, escaping from them and ignoring their protests and yells to get him back, to make him stop. He wouldn’t stop. He would never stop. Not until he found Aziraphale.

Once again his own lack of direction would be his downfall - he swam as fast as he could, out of the tunnel, out of the ship, and away from all the other wrecks, but he had no idea how to get back to the shore. What was the difference between east and west when all he could see was sand, plants, and fish? His brain finally caught up to him and, making sure the others weren’t closeby, he swam to the surface, breaching the waves and turning quickly to try and find the coastline.

When he finally spotted it in the distance, he set off back under the waves in that direction, determined to beat the ticking clock and make it back into that cave before the sun had set.

~~~

Aziraphale sat in the back seat of the car as Newt drove, Anathema giving him directions from beside him. In his hands rested an old sword, which he held and examined reverently. “Are you sure this will work?”

“When we’re talking about Satan? I’m not sure anything will work. But, being as you’re the one who signed a contract with him, I’d rather you have some kind of protection in case he tries to lunge straight for you. Supposedly, it’s some kind of magical artifact that’s supposed to light on fire, but… well, I’ve never gotten it to work right.”

“... I see.” He moved it a little farther away from himself.

“We’re fighting Satan? Wicked.”

Everyone’s head turned to the back of the car, including Newt’s though he hastily turned back after swerving. Peeking up from a small space between the back seat and the boot of the car was Adam, smiling as if he was completely unaware of the danger they were heading towards.

“Adam, how the – what are you doing here?!” Anathema said, her tone cross.

He shrugged as if it was nothing and said, “Newt left the car open and I figured you were kicking us out for adult purposes, and I tasted an adventure on the air. Turns out, I was right!”

“You can’t just – hide in the boot of someone’s car!”

“But we don’t have the time to take him back, either,” Newt said wearily, glancing at his watch.

“Look, you said I could be your apprentice, and all you’ve done is shown me stupid spell books and not let me actually do anything. I want to get the chance to do something real for once!”

Anathema looked conflicted, but she relented. “At least get in here and put your seatbelt on. You have to do everything I say if you want to leave this car with us, do you understand?”

“Yeah!” He wriggled up and over the seat, falling in next to Aziraphale before hastily buckling himself in. His leg bounced in anticipation as the town grew near, but Aziraphale only saw it as guilt and regret. He kept his eyes focused on his knees, trying to avoid the sight of as much of the town as possible.

Aziraphale knew the way to the cave. Once they had found a suitable parking spot, he took the lead, holding the sword aloft while Anathema was burdened by boxes of objects, Newt was struggling to keep everything he had in his pockets without dropping them, and Adam was bouncing excitedly between the three of them. He had come this way from the cave, afterall, so he knew what exactly they were looking for.

Once they ran into the ocean cutting a line through the beach, Aziraphale paused and nodded towards the cave, watching as everyone else came to a stop next to him.

“Well, this is it.” Anathema juggled the boxes once more before deciding to let some of them fall, ignoring them in favor of the few, more manageable ones she had left. “Do you want me to go first?”

“No, I’ll lead the way.” Carefully, he stepped onto the rough stone path, and the others trailed in behind him, single file. It was just as he remembered – which, seeing as he was only there a few days ago, wasn’t surprising. But it felt like much longer than that, with as much as he had been through over the course of those days. He used the wall to guide himself through the dark cave, keeping an eye out for anything out of the ordinary. He could hear the shuffle of everyone behind him, slowly but surely making their way forward, hoping not to lose their footing in the dark but knowing the need to press onward.

The green glow appeared in front of them, and when that green gate appeared again, he could hear Adam mutter, “Wicked.” He didn’t think it was fascinating, though. It sent chills down his spine, and he did his best to resolutely ignore it.

Finally, the group reached the end of the tunnel, spreading out now that the floor stretched the length of the cave, peering into the darkness not lit by the flickering torches on either side.

“It was here,” Aziraphale said, tapping the ground with his toe. “I saw him here.”

“Are you sure he wasn’t in any further? I don’t even see signs of anything magic being here.”

He nodded. “The channel ends here. I couldn’t go any further.”

“A merman,” Anathema whispered, surprised, having put two and two together.

Adam interrupted them. “He’s here. I can feel it.”

A clap echoed throughout the cave, loud and jolting, causing everyone to jump in surprise. It was shortly followed by another, and another, and the slow clap stopped as Lucifer stepped into the very edge of the firelight. “You’ve managed to figure out who I am, haven’t you? And you even brought this group of misfits to try and stop me, how delightful. You know, this really has to be one of the most exciting contracts I’ve ever made. And I barely had to lift a finger!”

“What have you done with Crowley?” Aziraphale growled, hands tightening on the grip of the sword as he recognized the sunglasses Lucifer was wearing, ones he wasn’t wearing the last time.

“What have I done? Oh, darling, I haven’t done anything. He was the one that did it.”

“Don’t lie to me!” The spark of his emotions ignited the fire of the blade, and while he was surprised, he only let it show for a brief second before he attempted to use the fire to make himself look even more threatening.

“Do you really think I have to? What’s a former merman, a witch, a witch hunter, and a child going to do against me? I’m the king of Hell. I can’t find anything in any of you that scares me, and there is no going back on my contracts. So, sorry, but if you continue this, I’ll be taking more than two souls today.”

“Two?”

“Lucifer!” The scream echoed through the cavern behind them, and Aziraphale turned immediately, recognizing the voice. “Lucifer, we need to talk!”

“Crowley?”

He had just swam into the light, sticking out above the surface, and as soon as they made eye contact, they froze. There was the answer they had been looking for. The reason they hadn’t been able to find each other at all, not even a hint of where they had disappeared to. They had switched worlds without even knowing. They began to start talking at the same time.

“Crowley, the plant shop–”

“Aziraphale, your grotto–”

They stopped speaking immediately once they realized they were speaking over each other. Aziraphale abandoned the flaming sword, laying it against the ground as he kneeled in order to get closer to Crowley, who swam over to the ledge.

“You go first, angel.”

“They – they burned all of your plants. I’m sorry, there was nothing – I couldn’t save them.” Tears started welling up in the corners of his eyes. “I was there, but I didn’t even try to stop them. I’m – I’m sorry, everything you had going for you–”

“Ssshh, it’s alright.” Crowley wiped the tears from his cheek, but realized he was just spreading more water across his face, so he regretfully retracted his hand. “I wasn’t attached to the plants. It wasn’t technically my property, anyway, so they’re only hurting themselves.”

Aziraphale nodded, wiping his own face to dry it. “What was it you wanted to say?”

“I – they followed me to the grotto. It’s been destroyed. I – I didn’t mean to destroy your collection, I was just looking for you, and… and I messed up.”

“My dear, all I care about is that you made it out alive. The others are cutthroat and brutal. What’s a bunch of human things when weighed against the presence of a – a friend?”

Crowley smiled, and a weight in his chest lifted. Finally, they were together again, but still on opposite sides. What would happen if he said anything now? They would still be just as separate as before if he fulfilled his end of the contract. Well, it seemed better than losing his soul.

“How touching.” Lucifer interrupted before they could get anything else out to each other. “Two people, born in opposite worlds, who couldn’t help but want to be together. So much, in fact, that they both came to me to do something about it! And on the same day, too! Just one after another. I knew then it would be an easy catch. Love blinds people to the truth, and now it will be your undoing.”

“No,” Aziraphale says, turning around, “No, we still have until the sun sets–”

“And how much longer do you think that is? An hour? A couple of hours? A few minutes? The sun has already set, darling.” He grinned, devilishly evil and inhuman. “It just did as you two were catching up. Your time’s up.”

“No!” Anathema said, but there was nothing she could do about it.

Lucifer snapped, and the green glow from behind them started to glow. “I assume you all noticed my soul gate? Tricky fellows, some of them. Almost pulled that one in the water without letting me toy with him first. But, I digress. Say hello to the other lost souls, my friends. You’re about to spend eternity with them.”

“Angel,” Crowley said, voice hoarse, tearing his voice away from the souls creeping their way closer to look at Aziraphale. “I’m so sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about, my dear.” Crowley could not see them from his position, but Aziraphale glanced up to see them drawing ever nearer, watched as Anathema hid Adam behind her, clutching onto Newt. “I’m just glad I got to see you, one last time.”

Crowley blinked away tears even as they were falling to clear his vision, to see the soft, sad smile aloft on Aziraphale’s face. “I – I love you, Aziraphale.”

He was surprised, freezing for a second, but, with only a few moments to spare, he said, “I love you too, Crowley.”

Right before they were enveloped in the green glow of the other souls, they met each other in the space between them, eyes closed to not see their fate but everything else pressing together tightly – forehead, nose, lips. They kissed each other like they were the world, and like they had nothing to lose. And, considering they were about to lose their souls, what did they have to lose?

Lucifer was delighted as the souls enveloped them, but his smile soon vanished as a bright, white light seemed to glow from within. Not unlike the one that had enveloped Aziraphale and Crowley for their transformations. The light continued to grow, overtaking the green of the souls until they could no longer be seen. It grew so much that everyone had to shield their eyes from the light, even Lucifer with Crowley’s sunglasses on.

Something knocked Lucifer over from within, and he looked up to see the souls escaping, running away off into the dark, no longer trapped by his gold bars. They were lost souls no more; they were free, and they could go find their peace with the world and move on.

As the light faded, as all the souls escaped the cave, two men stood on the rock in the middle of the light, embracing each other and locked in a kiss. When the light faded they finally pulled away from each other, and Aziraphale was surprised to see Crowley was taller than he was. He looked down and a smile grew on his face. They both had legs. They were both human. They were both free.

“I love you, Crowley,” he whispered again, burying his face in his chest, much to Crowley’s surprise and delight as he pulled him closer.

“True love’s kiss,” Adam said, amazed, peeking out from behind Anathema. “Pepper was right, the fairy tales really are real.”

“You fools!” Aziraphale and Crowley jumped apart, forgetting there were others there, watching them. “What have you done?!” Lucifer pulled himself off of the floor, breathing heavily, a snarl on his face. When he fell over, his hat was knocked off of his head, revealing the two devil horns protruding from his head.

“Uh, what’s going on?” Crowley asked, having not been in the loop.

“We made deals with the devil, dear. Satan.”

“Oh, how wonderful.”

Aziraphale retrieved the flaming sword from the ground and stood his ground between Satan and Crowley, brandishing the weapon before him.

“You ruined everything!” Lucifer yelled. “All of my work! They’ve all escaped! Years, no, centuries worth of work! Down the drain! You’ll pay for that!”

Even though he didn’t quite know how to use it, Aziraphale stood his ground, pointing the sword out as Lucifer ran towards them. Before anyone could do anything, however, Adam stepped in between, having slipped away from Anathema.

“Stop.” He said it calmly, like there wasn’t an old-as-time-itself demon headed straight for him. And yet, his voice echoed even without the effort of the cavern, which multiplied it tenfold, and, surprisingly, Lucifer froze. Even he seemed surprised that he had stopped. “You will leave them alone,” Adam continued, his aura carrying his voice, turning a simple phrase into a command that seemed impossible to break. “You will leave everyone on Earth alone. Stop meddling in people’s business, and go back to Hell where you came from. And stay there.”

“No,” Lucifer gasped, clutching at his side. “No, no, what have you done?” But it was too late. Right before their eyes, he withered away into nothing, disappearing completely until Crowley’s sunglasses clattered to the ground with finality.

Everyone stared at Adam in awe. He had just banished Satan from the world of the living, and he didn’t even lift a finger.

“He can do anything he sets his mind to,” Anathema said, breaking the silence and resting a hand on his shoulder. “That’s why I’m keeping an eye on him.”

Aziraphale nodded. “That seems like a good idea.”

Crowley, who had scooped his sunglasses up and put them back on after the silence broke, slung an arm around Aziraphale’s shoulders. “Want to introduce me to your friends, angel?”

“Oh, right. This is Newt, Anathema, and Adam. They helped me find this place again after some – unfortunate mistakes.”

“Well I’m glad they did, otherwise we might not be standing here.” he shuddered. “I can’t imagine what life as one of those souls would have been like.”

“And now you don’t have to,” Anathema said. “We should get Adam home. Would you like to come with?”

“Only if we can have some more of that, what was it? Oh, cocoa!” Aziraphale beamed.

Crowley chuckled. “He might be okay with cocoa, but I hope you have something stronger. I’m going to need it after all of that.”

“What does that mean?”

“Alcohol. Quite extraordinary amounts of alcohol.”

“I don’t know what that means, but I’m open to try new things!” He looked up to Crowley and smiled. “Especially with you.”

He pressed a kiss into the curls on the top of Aziraphale’s head. “Always with you.”

~~~

No one in the village could quite understand why the rowdiest group of kids around were so interested in the antique shop that had popped up. There were rumors saying the owner bought the building from a lawsuit he had won against his former landlord, but that was nothing to interest children.

Inside was a collection of things so random, one almost thought it was impossible to find order in the place. Between that and the plants scattered around the store, bringing more life to the dusty objects, there seemed to be nothing that would warrant the kids appearing there at least once a week.

But the owners were nice enough. Though they seemed to contradict each other, the two men were quite happy together. People even say they were married, but no one was paying attention enough to remember to check if they were wearing rings. They were too interested in the stories the owners could tell, fabricating things about mermaids and witches and devils and a whole lot of other make-believe stories.

The children knew they were true, of course. Adam had been there, and Adam was always right. That’s why he was their leader. Mr. Aziraphale could tell them wondrous stories from his time under the sea, fabricated with white lies or omitting bits of the truth, but there was no reason to corrupt such bright young minds. Not when he had everything they ever wanted sitting in the store. He was surrounded by fascinating human objects without being judged for it, he was able to live in the human world himself, and, most importantly, as he threw an arm around Crowley to pull him into the story as well, he was surrounded by love.