"To the world." Crowley lifted his glass to Aziraphale, and gained a soft and free smile that could only come from someone that you've been to hell and back for, and someone who you've been friends with for Six thousand years.

"To the world." Aziraphale breathed out, clinking his glass to Crowley's, feeling the weight of relief. He has heard people say that when they have a feeling of relief a weight is lifted off their shoulders. This is not true for Aziraphale. For him, it's a weight in his chest and in his very soul and it's a weight he is all to happy to bare. Once they toasted, they each took a drink. When Aziraphale set his drink down, he grew curious as to what happened during his trial up in Heaven. He placed a hand on the table with an eager look in his eyes. "So, tell me how everything went in Heaven?"

"Are you sure you want to know, Angel?" Crowley asked with a small smirk, only furthering Aziraphale's curiosity.

"Oh, yes please! I do want to hear what happened."

"Well, the first thing is...you didn't get a trial."

"No, I wouldn't have expected one."

That caught Crowley's attention and a thick furious lump formed in his throat. "Really!? Why are you okay with that!?"

"I never said I was." He breathed out calmly with his smile and curious eyes remaining. "When you add everything up, I did more than just help a demon stop the Apocalypse, but enough of that, what did you do?"

"W-Well..." Crowley was nearly speechless. He didn't quite understand everything that encompassed in Aziraphale's statement, and he wondered, for the first time since he's met Aziraphale, just who EXACTLY is he? However, his friend needed an answer. No, that wasn't quite right. He deserved one. "...They bound me in holy ropes to a chair..."

"Oh my! Are you alright, my dear boy?"

"It stung..." He winced slightly at the memory before continuing. "...No...it actually burned and turned the tops of my...your...my...WHATEVER...the hands I was using turned red, but they didn't notice. Gabriel was too eager to have you walk into the hellfire. It took everything I had to keep up appearances. When I stepped into the hellfire after Gabriel told 'you' to shut your stupid mouth and die already...that was IT! I had to do something to the bastard! So...I made you look a bit crazy. I stepped in the hellfire and I breathed it out at them."

"Oh! I wish I could've been there to see it! How did Gabriel react?"

With that, Crowley sat a bit straighter with an intrigued, if not perplexed expression on his face. "Aziraphale...I've never seen this side of you." He mentioned calmly.

"Well, Gabriel never liked me and I knew it. I'm pretty sure he would've never hesitated to throw me into hellfire himself if he wasn't afraid of getting singed himself."

"Aziraphale...that's awful!"

"I know...so...how did he react?"

"Well..." Crowley breathed out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, not that he needed it, but it was there just the same. "...when I breathed fire at Uriel, Sandalphon, and Gabriel, they all backed away in pure fear. Gabriel had said that it may have been worse than they thoughts, and Uriel was wondering WHAT you were."

"Oh my...well...at least they'll leave us alone. So...you're a fallen...what was it like being up in Heaven again?"

"It...wasn't how I remembered it."

Aziraphale tilted his head in slight confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Aziraphale..." Crowley drawled out as he suddenly realized they had never discussed their ages before. It never came up. "...how old are you?"

"About six thousand and half years old. I was made five hundred years before the Earth. Why?"

"Ah, that explains why you don't exactly know."

"I doubt your that much older than me." He smirked as he eyed the food that came to the table.

"Older than you think. Well, when I was in Heaven, it wasn't as...white and shiny. It was more...hmm..." Crowley furrowed his brow as he looked into his glass and tool another sip. "It was more open in a way. The Heaven that I saw was more or less white, shiny, business-like, and you could see all of the important or well known landmarks. It wasn't like that."

"Huh...you know...it just occurred to me...you've never spoken of your life as an angel."

"You never asked, and it doesn't exactly bring back fond memories, me being a demon and all."

"Hmm...yes...I can't blame you for that." Aziraphale ate some of his food before continuing. "Well, what kind of angel were you?"

"I was...a healer and an artist. I also looked after several gardens and plants before they had names. I also looked after Eden before Adam and Eve showed up, but before they DID show up...that's when everything went FAR down hill."

"Wait...a healer and an artist? What do you mean? And...YOU looked after the Garden?"

"Yes, I looked after the Garden." Crowley nodded, purposefully avoiding the first question. "It's how I knew my way around when I tempted Eve. However, there is one little snag to all of that. No one in Hell, not even Lucifer recognized me."

"You knew Lucifer?" Aziraphale whispered out in awe. "Before he fell?"

"He was one of the reasons I turned into a demon." Crowley grumbled. "Yeah, I knew him. We were as close as brothers. His friends were my friends."

"But...Lucifer was one of the oldest angels..." Aziraphale shook his head as if trying to grasp what Crowley said, but he truly couldn't. It was all a bit over his head, but the one thing he COULD understand were the words Healer and Artist.

"I told you. I'm older than you think." Crowley let out a dry chuckle as he downed the rest of his drink.

"W-Well...what about the healer and the artist part?"

"Aziraphale...I really don't want to talk about this anymore. Can we talk about something else? Please?"

Aziraphale's eyes shot wide open at the pleading tone in Crowley's voice and the fact that he said the word please. Aziraphale could count on one hand how many times he's heard Crowley say the word 'please', and they had all been when he was completely drunk to the point of not being able to form coherent sentences, and that's what really unnerved him about it at the moment, because he could tell that Crowley was still perfectly sober. "R-Right. Well, I hadn't been to my bookshop since we went back to your place and figured out exactly how to swap bodies...so...anything different?"

"Oh, well...Adam may have added a children series on top of your roll top where you normally read and write."

"Is that so? That should be interesting to see."

They continued peacefully like that for quite some time, until it got dark out, and they both looked out one of the windows they could see from their table and they both came to the same decision in a way. "I think it's time to go." Crowley side out.

"Yes, quite." Aziraphale agreed, although, he was still concerned and curious about their much earlier conversation, and the fact that they were celebrating and Crowley only had one drink while he had three. "Do you mind terribly giving me a lift home?"

"Of course not, Angel." Crowley smiled at him, but Aziraphale could tell it was faked and it sent a pain in his chest.

Once they paid, left, and made it into the car, Aziraphale couldn't handle the tension any longer. "Crowley, are you upset with me?"

"WHAT!? What ever gave you that idea?"

"Well, my questions earlier..."

"Aziraphale...I'm not really one for talking about..." He gave a shudder before continuing. "...feelings. So, I'm only going to say this once. The questions and the memories they're related to...they were painful. It brought up memories that I don't deserve to have."

"What do you mean you don't deserve them?"

Crowley rolled his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. "The other demons forgot what it was like in Heaven. All they know is that they were once angels, they argued, fought, questioned, and then there was a war, which caused them to be cast out to Hell. That's all they know, and they thrive on that with all the wrath and sin they can muster."

"But...you're different or something?"

Crowley let out a wry laugh as he took the turn that would lead them closer to the bookshop. "Let's go with 'or something'. Hey...to get off topic...we um...when we switched bodies for the first time...did you um..."

"Yeah...I felt your soul split as well as my own, and when we switched back..."

"...we now have half of the other's soul while keeping our own half. Great!" The last singular word was said with so much sarcasm even the Bentley could understand it and it tried to cheer Crowley up by playing 'Under Pressure', but unknown to the Bentley, that made everything worse. "Oh hush, you!" At Crowley's command it stopped playing, and they arrived at the bookshop. "Aziraphale, before you get out...we don't know how us having a half of each other is going to affect the other. You're still an Angel and I'm still a demon, but..."

"...I know. It's like...we're brothers now."

"Well...difficult to say the word 'now' when it's been like that for six thousand years. Just...be careful, Angel. I don't know how my half will affect you."

"Same to you, Crowley. Good night." Aziraphale stepped out of the car and waved at Crowley as he sped off in his Bentley. With concern, wonder, and curiosity still warring in his chest, he walked inside his bookshop and walked around towards his roll top and couldn't help but smile fondly at the books that Adam so obviously added. Perhaps it was by accident, but it was there. "Something that he said..." Aziraphale muttered as he glanced up and out his window. "...a healer and an artist? I've never known any angels like that. Usually angels only had one task. I was the Guardian of the Eastern Gate...but that was it until I was charged with keeping an eye on Crowley."

He walked over to his religious section that he, ironically, had never read from. "Hmm...angels..." He breathed out and with a wave of his hand every book that had something to do with angels flew into the air and floated around him. Aziraphale quickly tinted the windows, closed the shudders and blinds, and flipped the door sign to close before he would forget and some poor human walks into a scene of floating books and a bookshop keeper. "Alright...now...angelic healers..." He waved his hand once more and three out of ten books floated back into their places perfectly on the book shelf. "...angelic healers AND artists..." Four more books floated back to the shelf, leaving three books about angels that held angelic healers and artists. "...alright...angels named Crowley." He waved his hand and nothing happened, which caused his brow to furrow in confusion. "Okay...angels named Crawley?" Another wave and yet again...nothing. "Strange...okay...angelic healers AND Artists...and those who have looked after the Garden of Eden." He waved his hand with determination, and he felt something flare in his soul. Suddenly all of the books started spinning rapidly before they started to make a cyclone of air, which soon erupted with red and yellow looking embers that dissolved before they hit the floor. "Strange...very strange indeed." Once the books stopped spinning, there was a book in the middle of the three books as the three books stood in the air, surrounding the new book that Aziraphale had never seen before. It was beautiful in his eyes, and as he took it from the air, he watched the other books float back into the bookshelf.

Once they were back in their places, Aziraphale looked closer at the cover of the book, and he knew for a fact that a human did not make this book. The cover was covered in stars, galaxies, and at least one Nebula, MOVING and SWIRLING all over the beautiful, impossible, cover. "G-God? Did you um...did you give me this book?"

At his question, a soft beam of light not unlike a moon beam shined through his closed ceiling and he heard a voice he hadn't heard in a long time. "The two of you share a soul now, Aziraphale. The two of you are soulmate brothers. He won't tell you on his own, and he's right. The memories are painful for him, but as someone who has known him faithfully and fondly for six thousand years...consider this as a gift for being there for him after he lost everything, and even after he KEPT losing everything." The light had gone and Aziraphale collapsed to his knees with tears streaming from his eyes.

"I-I didn't expect an actual answer!" He whispered out as the book shook in his hands. "Instead of reading it at his roll top where anyone might have a chance of seeing it and taking it, he ran up to his room, where his room was not what one might expect Aziraphale's room to look like. It had apple red walls, mahogany wooden floors, a bed that he never used, but kept clear of dust in case Crowley need to use it, and it had apple red blankets and sheets as well as pillows that were just a shade darker than the blankets. Crowley had never been in Aziraphale's room, of course, but if he needed a place to sleep, it was there and quite comfortable.

Once he sat on the bed, he tried to calm himself as he looked at the book. "This...is a book about Crowley before he fell. I can feel it, but it feels like an invasion of privacy. Oh...Crowley...forgive me." He opened the book and was blinded by a flash of beautiful green light, and he knew then, that there was no turning back until he was finished with the 'book'.