"But maybe I do deserve it! I was miserable, but I kept choosing them. I treated you something awful all those years, I was a bit of that nasty creature I've manifested. It has every right--YOU have every right to be mad at me for it! You are not wrong for being upset, Crowley, even if I thought I had my reasons."

He wrings his hands and twists the little principality ring on his pinkie around and looks down the hall, dreading the eventual appearance of his shadow. The pure unadulterated anger and hate of the creature on the other side of that door is starting to wear on his nerves and make him anxious and unhappy and a touch angry himself. Maybe he should just go. It'd be easier on them both. Maybe he has it all wrong... But there's also that wonderful, consistent love that's always been Crowley, and Aziraphale presses his cheek to the door and listens, because if Crowley won't open the door, he won't force him to, but he'll be here, as close as he can, as he feels he should have been all along.

"If you want me out here, I will stay out here. But I'm not leaving. You didn't leave me, even when God knows you had every right to. You're such a good, brave person, Crowley; being angry doesn't negate that."