Truthfully, Crowley had no intentions of coming back this soon. Their argument still won’t get out of his head no matter how much he wants it to, and one moment of solidarity as they stood off against their bosses and Satan himself with nothing more than a tyre iron and a small child who just happens to be the Antichrist isn’t enough to wipe away the… the everything that happened because of that incident at the bandstand. Even now, after everything they’ve been through, just thinking about it makes Crowley’s blood boil.
He needs a nap. He needs a holiday. He needs to do something away from here that won’t make him think about Aziraphale.
But every time he seriously contemplates doing so, hellfire flickers behind his eyes. Every time he glances at the Bentley, phantom rotten bleach invades his nose and mouth. Every time he thinks about running away and buying a cottage in the South Downs, a croon of “We did warn you,” whispers in his ears.
So here he is. Sitting outside the last place… okay, no, third last place, Heaven or Hell would still be way worse - third last place he wants to be.
Chapter 5 is up at last!
