"the universe is made of stories, not of atoms."

Because it’s pretty fucking clear that the thing Aziraphale and Crowley fear the most is losing each other and yet they have to go through being separated and abducted—Crowley (disguised as Aziraphale) by Heaven, Aziraphale (disguised as Crowley) by Hell—before they can (hopefully) be together.

How terrifying would that have been?

I don’t think we ever see Crowley as genuinely scared as he is when the angels take him away. Granted, at least part of that is because he needs to keep in character, but how much of it is also because if this goes sideways, if they read the prophecy wrong, he’s never going to see Aziraphale again? Crowley’s spent several hundred years protecting Aziraphale in one way or another, but in this moment—probably the most important moment outside the actual apocalypse—he can’t do anything but shout a muffled warning as he’s dragged away.

And Aziraphale, watching Crowley be bound and gagged and dragged away from him, starting after him because even though he knew this was going to happen, it’s one thing to know it logically and it’s another thing entirely to see it, to see them take Crowley away and know there’s nothing he can do about it but still not able to stop himself from trying.

They have no idea if their plan’s going to work. They have no idea what’s actually in store for them. And after six thousand years together, this is a part they absolutely have to do alone, without the other by their side. Yes, they have a plan and Agnes’s prophecies have been right on the money so far, but if they misunderstood, they don’t have another chance to get it right. It’s a calculated risk, but it’s still a risk and they both know it.

And what was their plan for after? Did they agree to meet up at the bench in the park if they made it after they’d made it through the trials? Who got back first? Was it Aziraphale, sitting stiffly on the bench and getting a bit overwarm in Crowley’s dark clothes, glancing up every time something white flashed out of the corner of his eye, hoping to see his own face sauntering toward him? Or was it Crowley, lounging there like he doesn’t have a care in the world but watching everything around him like a hawk, looking for the first indication of a dark, lanky figure striding across the grass?

How long did they have to wait to see if the other survived their trial? How long did they sit, waiting, hoping, thinking I made it through, so surely he…? For an immortal being used to years passing in the blink of an eye, did ten minutes feel like a century? Was it twenty minutes? Thirty? An hour or longer? Was there a moment that they doubted, that they started to worry that the other hadn’t made it through?

Can you imagine the sheer relief they would’ve felt when they finally saw the other walking through the park, safe and alive and whole? Having to restrain themselves from just fucking running up to hug the other because Heaven and Hell could still be watching and they can’t yet?

Just like. God. They spent all that time unsure of what was happening with the other, not knowing if their plan would actually work, not knowing if they would actually see each other again.

Area Demon Traumatized by Ineffable Plant Loving Angel.