Disclaimer: Trala lala la, spring is in the air, but I still don't own Good Omens. Poo.

Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale have been left out of the divine struggle, living as grey zone immortals. This works fine until Lucifer walks out on Hell, and right up to England. Why did he leave? Will it be Hell on earth? C/A and B/L slash.

AN: Aww, common, no more than 3? Tear. Tell your friends! I want a varied opinion on this thing, otherwise I won't know if this is going the right way or not. I want to improve, not plateau… CURSE PLATEAU! Okay, time for Sike's sugar brake. Read on! (oh, remember, every break is a change in POV.)


Chapter 2: A devil put aside

"Zzzzz he didn't zzzay where, zzzz heezzzz juzzzt gonezzz."

I CAN'T POSSIBLY IMAGE WHY HE'D WAN TO LEAVE SUCH A CHARMING PLACE.

Contrary to popular belief, not all of Hell is burning pain and torture. When you're demon or devil, you're used to flames, but that doesn't mean you want them around all the time.

Think of Hell as popular city. If you're tourist, you go there to see (and experience) what it's most famous for. If you've lived there all your life, you've seen the off-season. You see the underside, the stuff the tourists don't see. Hell is very much like a tourist trap, except you're less likely to look back on it and laugh.

So I live in Hell full time, born and raised. The place no one has ever seen or heard of is my workplace. I don't know what they call it up there anymore. They say you get to it from the Underworld… or maybe it was the Underground? I don't know; we've always called it the Floor. It's a huge corporate tower and I work at the top.

The top floor is the lowest point of Hell. How does that work? Beats me. Why do we have to come up with all the fucking answers? It's always why, why, why, why? I've got one for you.

Why did he leave?

I've been trying for days to find out. I said something, I know it was me. We were fighting, I don't even remember what about… and his face changed. I did something. Now he's gone.

I'm pacing in my office, the door is open and several demon interns are poking their pointed faces into my business. Each one is still clinging to the traditional demon look. They don't understand the true form of evil. The scariest creatures of the world wear ties. They'll get it eventually.

As I try to think of another thing to yell into my cell, my eyes trace over the eavesdroppers, causing them to scatter. From behind the ducking head of one I see the plaque on my door. It reads "B.L.". He did it, he thought it was funny. I'm angry again.

"Zzzz I don't zzzzee why zzyou can'tzzz zee me in perzzzon." I say into the phone.

TIME IS DIFFERENT DOWN THERE; I'VE GOT A STRICT SCHEDULE TO KEEP. I WOULD THINK YOU WOULD APPRECIATE THAT, BEELZEBUB, I'M ONE OF YOUR BIGGEST CONTRIBUTERS.

Even in the stress of the moment, that got a bitter chuckle out me. "You're zzzz our only zzzz contrizzzzzbutor."

"TRUE."

"Zzzzzback to zzz my requezzt." I remind him.

YES. I WILL SPEAK TO HIM FOR YOU, BUT IF HIS MIND IS MADE UP…

"Yezzz, I underzzztand zzzz."

ALRIGHT THEN. SO LONG AS YOU REMEMBER NOT TO SHOOT THE MESSENGER. I HAVE TO GET GOING, TIME WAITS FOR NO MAN.

"Zzzee ya."

NOT IF SEE YOU FIRST. I hate it when he says that.

So I guess for now, I only get to sit on the sidelines and wait.


We're at the bookshop, working. We actually let customers in to buy things now. It was my suggestion. I explained to Aziraphale that he could put his books in storage in the back, and sell normal mortal books in the back. He was pleased with the idea. I had always felt he wanted humans in the shop; he was just so damn protective of his books.

Working today like nothing is wrong is tough. Pretending that we didn't find out yesterday that the world might be ending… again.

I'm behind the counter, Aziraphale is stocking the shelves. When he finishes with last book, he just stares at the place where the last book went in for a long time. I can't see his face, but he's so still. He's thinking about Lucifer. About what he might do? To know that someone who broke your heart like that could just walk back into your life… possibly to end it. I want to go over there to pull him out of his daze.

My eyes scan the room. There are only two people here… some guy in the self-help section whose appearance you could almost forget as you looked at him, and this really tall bloke in the back flipping through a graphic novel. They won't notice if the cash is vacant for a moment…


"Love?" Arms wrap around my chest and a chin rests on my left shoulder.

I blink away my daze, leaning my head against Crowley's. "Yes?"

"Won't you tell me?" His whisper is sad. Oh… he probably thinks it's because of him that I won't say… it.

He knows there was something between Morningstar and I. I told him that it was nothing. I told him not to worry. I lied. He knew it hurt me to know he was back on earth, but he doesn't know why. I don't think I can tell him yet.

I keep waiting for a sign. Some sort of hint that he's here. A fire somewhere… or a crash. But then again… there's no reason for him to be in England at all. He could be anywhere.

I worry, though.

Why does the ultimate evil decide to just hop on the next astral plane to the grey zone? Not for the reason Crowley and I did. He wasn't forced to take orders from anyone. He was Satan.

Maybe…


"Maybe he's just here to find Adam." The grey angel says to the grey demon. He turns to face his partner, as though pleading for him to agree.

Crowley muddles this over. "I suppose… but that only raises more questions. Lucifer doesn't just stroll away from his kingdom. After all, he coined the phrase "evil never sleeps."

I turn away, a little disgusted. I thought I was ready to see them… but I was wrong. A person doesn't change overnight… why would they assume that about me?

And Adam. Everyone thinks about my own son but me.

"Zzzzo? Maybe we'll zzzz juzzt get Adam zzzzz to zzz take over zzzthe Floor!"

Hmmm, I guess I'm still mad at Beel…

The book I'm holding starts to heat up in my hand. It starts smoking and I drop it on the floor. Busted…

They might have reacted, I don't know. I'm out the door, running down the sidewalk. I turn at the next available street and lean against the wall. I enjoy air, so I've been using breath recently, the downside of which is now I have to catch it. No joy comes without sacrifice.

Not exactly my best work, but I've been working hard to adjust with the grey zone. You don't realize how much of your life you spend in chains until you come here and suddenly the air is… is… so full of choice.

Walk, run. Breathe, don't breathe. Wake, sleep. Remember, forget. Fly, fall. Sing, scream. Heal, wound. Be, do not be.

So many choices. This world is drugged with them, and nobody sees it.

At least I saw him again; my dearest.

Now that I stop to think about it, I wonder if Beelzebub and I were fighting about us… or about him. It's easy to tell if B.L. is emotional about something. He buzzes more.

The now grey immortal hasn't changed a bit. He's still beautiful and graceful. Still unreasonably kind. He even smiles the same. Although he wasn't smiling at me. Maybe I am still evil after all.

I've decided that I'm going to take a walk in the park. Maybe I will visit Adam… but I doubt it. We agreed, three months ago, that he had grown up with a real family and couldn't abandon them. I wasn't part of his life. (Although I do feel a bit better, knowing he still has Dog with him.)

I walk around the corner of the next street and walk headlong into…

Wait… that's not right. When you walk into someone, you don't stumble through them to land the side walk. I look up into a pair of star blue eyes.

"Oh, at the bookshop." How could I have missed him?

THAT'S RIGHT. SHALL WE GO FOR A WALK?" He extends his skeleton hand to help me up, which I accept. "WE NEED TO HAVE A LITTLE CHAT, LUCIFER.

"Well, I was just about to take a stroll around the park... what do we need to chat about?"

Death put his arm around my shoulders, steering me along the side walk.

I THINK MAYBE YOU NEED TO TELL SOMEONE WHY YOU'VE TURNED YOUR BACK ON HELL. IT IS, AFTER ALL, YOUR ENTERPRISE.

It's funny. I've been walking around, trying to figure out why I don't feel ready. Now I get it. I needed this. I needed a sympathetic ear. Well… he doesn't actually have ears, but you get what I mean. Everyone else gets prophets and mediums and gossips- er, that is gospels. I want someone to tell the truth to.

"Promise you won't tell B.L.?"

I'M FRIENDS WITH THE HIGHEST POWERS FIRST. HE DOESN'T EVEN NEED TO KNOW I FOUND YOU. SO WHAT HAPPENED?

"It might be easier if you let me tell you the beginning, first."


Aziraphale is all in a panic. I'm at a loss.

The charred book left behind by our forgettable friend is still smoking a little. Aziraphale won't pick it up. He just paces in front of it. Swearing up a storm.

"Oh, bugger. Oh Christ. Oh, shit. He was here he was here he was here."

Every once in a while he walks up to me, cups my face with his hands, then backs away and begins to pace again.

I hate feeling this way. I don't understand what's going on! Why won't he tell me? I get distracted when the phone rings. Who could possibly be calling the store?

"Hello?"

"Demon! For the love of all things on that blessed planet, do not hang up this phone! I need to speak to Aziraphale immeadiately!" I rest the mouth piece on my shoulder.

"It's heaven, angel."


I despise words. I can't really use them. I try to communicate what I think and feel and it all goes wrong. Most of the time, people can barely hear the words I'm trying to say anyway.

What word do I use for this feeling?

I could pick one, I've written them down on scraps of paper so that they cover my desk. A patchwork of loneliness, anger, jealousy, hate, sadness, depression, rage, pain, impatience, confusion, worry, love…

I hate all of these mortal words. They're cheap. Half of them don't even have a solid meaning behind them. What good are they?

I ignite the papers, one by one. The glow from my desk soothes me for a moment. I wonder what words Lucifer would write down.

Maybe that's what he's trying to do up there.

I guess to him, I've just been put aside. Left behind.

Damn it, I hate each and every phrase I've written. Why does hell not have its own language anymore? Mortal words are cheap.


AN: Yay, end of the chapter! I added in that it's B/L slash too, though I figured it as kinda obvious.

Please feel free to tell me:

a) if there are typos
b) if this sucks
c) how I could do better
d) what you liked
e)i f you're annoyed with this lettered list.

Right…. I'll stop there. I know some people wanted me to get to Box first, but I'll do it later, okay? It does have 7 chapters right now….

Bye,

Sike