Sides of the Coin


Aziraphale loves the light. All angels do. It reminds him of Heaven, of His never-ending light. It was what he first saw when he was Created and ever since nothing has ever been able to replace it. Nothing else on Earth, Heaven, or Hell could ever take his complete and utter devotion. Crowley once scoffed at him for it, but Aziraphale barely gave it a second thought. Crowley Fell from grace and so fell from understanding the love of light. Aziraphale continues to stare at such a miracle with wonder. Nothing will ever detract from his love of the light.

He is no longer so pure of an angel. No matter how he denies such an accusation, it only makes it more true. The light becomes a source of fear. So untainted, but what if it discovered what had become of him? Frightened, he tries against to become as pure as the light from above.

But it is already too late.

Crowley hates the light. All demons do. It reminds him of Heaven, the place that had so long ago cast him away. That place was supposed to be forgiving, and He was supposed to be everyone's savior. Crowley did not see something like that ever happening. Hell received too many souls for him to believe that. Even from people who wanted to repent. Aziraphale often reminded him of the love of light, but Crowley tried to tell him to get over it. Hell always welcomes you back, but once you fall from Heaven, that is it. No one can return to the light.

The light does not scare him anymore. When did he begin welcoming the light again? He tries to tell himself that he can never return to such a thing, but he soaks up its presence when he can. For a moment, he just wants to appreciate it. Returning to work can wait.

He invites Aziraphale to the Ritz.


Crowley loves the dark. Not to be stereotypical as a demon or anything, he just finds that it can be fun. A certain type of fun that he can not do in the light. It helps his job, preying on people's fears and allowing them to give into objectives they would never do if people could see them well, if they could see others well. Hell, he allows himself treats he would never bother for with the dark world created by his sunglasses. He pretends he cannot see through the dark and enjoys the lack of perception. Without sight, other senses will heighten.

He is starting to wonder when he began to not care about the senses he would use. Enjoying sight just as much as his sound, smell, touch, taste, and self. Certainly he would never be seen less then stylish, but it is a different type of sight he wants now. To read.

Books are not what he specializes in.

Aziraphale never hated the dark. He just did not prefer it to His light. Out in the sun... Even the single candle in his back room, reading, it is the light he enjoys. The dark may not unnerve him as it does Humans. Most of his work during the dark is to assure those that their fears are not about to destroy them. Give them courage that they will see it through until another day. Actually, light. They will see light again. Perception is so much to others and Aziraphale understands why Humans base so much of themselves on sight. He reads, after all.

He is beginning to enjoy dark too much now. A certain visitor who will come in the night with an invitation for a car ride without headlights, which neither need anyways. Blowing out the candle light in the back room and closing Aziraphale's eyes so he will not know what is coming next.

Aziraphale reminds himself the other five senses are as important as sight.