We decided not to go back to the convention today, so Chapter Twenty has also been properly edited for word choice and canon.

Since another scene from the book is (largely) reproduced here, I'll say it again. I do not own Good Omens, and unfortunately I'm not making any money off of this.

It had been Newt who, in a fit of romanticism, had installed the bench swing a short distance from the cottage. Fortunately for all involved, Newt's skill at carpentry had proved to be leaps and bounds beyond his skills as a computer engineer, although biweekly classes at Norton Polytechnic and Power Tarot readings from Pepper's mother seemed to be improving matters. The bench only gave the faintest of creaks as Adam and Anna sat down. Dog curled up in the snow, as far from the angel as he could get.

"I'm sorry for deceiving you," said Anna, after a few moments of snow-covered silence. "But I needed you to invite me. The barrier around this area prevents anything supernatural from coming through."

"I know that," said Adam simply. "I put it there, after all. Fancy me not knowing what it does when I'm the one who put it there." He took a few slurping sips of his tea before scowling sidelong at Anna. "You better not be here because of those stupid Seals. I told that Lillith demon, it's nothing to do with me. If you are…"

"I am," said Anna softly. "But…at the same time…it's not about that."

"How does that work?"

Anna drained her mug before settling it conscientiously in the snow. "How much do you remember…about 'last time'?"

"All of it," said Adam. He settled his still-rather-full mug down as well, and Dog promptly scurried over to lap up was left. "Except it never happened. So there's nothing to remember."

"To the people inside that house, nothing happened that day," said Anna, her voice suddenly ringing with barely suppressed urgency. "But to Heaven and Hell…you stopped them both, Adam. They remember that. And they're not happy about it."

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Adam. He looked up at the angel, his face taking on that carefully calculated innocence used only on very special occasions of very deep trouble. "I'm Adam Young. Seems to me like you're the one who's pretending to be something you're not, you being an angel and all."

Anna smiled. "Yes. I suppose that's true. Thanks to them…you really are just Adam Young, at heart."

Adam nodded. "My parents always said…"

"Not your parents. You know who I mean. If you remember everything…then you must remember them."

Adam…did. He remembered an old abandoned air field, where he had stood with Wensley, Brian, Pepper, and Dog and faced the Famine, Pollution, War, and Death. He remembered Newt and Anathema, looking lost and unsure of what to do next. He remembered Sergeant Shadwell, made brave by his faith in a power he'd never had. He remembered Madame Tracy, who really wouldn't have been there if Aziraphale hadn't brought the matter to her attention.

He remembered Aziraphale, and Crowley. Aziraphale, who had come to the battle sharing the body of a middle-aged woman and intending to kill him on sight. Crowley, who had driven there in a flaming car simply because he'd run out of places to run to.

The ground was shaking. The noise was like a subway train, but not one passing under. It sounded more like something was coming up.

Crowley fumbled madly with the gear shift of their stolen jeep. "That's not Beelzebub!" he shouted, above the noise of the wind suddenly howling around their little army. "That's Him! His Father! This isn't Armageddon, this is personal! Start, you bloody thing!"

The ground moved under them all. Cracks spider webbed across the concrete, and yellow smoke boiled up from the gaps.

"It feels like a volcano!" shouted Newt. "What is it?"

"Whatever it is, it's pretty angry!" Anathema cried.

Crowley was blessing furiously, still trying desperately to start the jeep. Aziraphale laid a hand on his shoulder.

"There are humans here," he said, his voice remarkably calm.

"Yes," snapped Crowley. "And me!"

"I mean…we shouldn't let this happen to them."

"Well, what…" Crowley began…before trailing off.

"I mean, when you think about it, we've got them into enough trouble as it is. You and me. Over the years. What with one thing and another."

"We were only doing our jobs," Crowley muttered sullenly.

"Yes. So what? Lots of people in history have only done their jobs, and look at the trouble they caused."

"You don't mean we should actually try to stop Him?!"

"What have you got to lose?"

He knew them. He had looked at them with the eyes of the Antichrist, and he knew them. They were ancient beings and powerful, in their own specialized ways. Yet Adam remembered feeling a strange sort of kinship with them. In their own roundabout ways, they had both come to that empty airfield prepared to fight for the same thing. They had not been like the angels and demons waiting for his word to burn the world to nothing. They had come to fight for its survival.

"They're dead."

Adam jerked his head up to stare at her, surprised for the first time since that autumn day so many months ago. "What did you say?" he asked warily.

"They're dead," said Anna softly. "They were completely destroyed."

Adam could really think of nothing to say except, "That's too bad. But what do you expect me to do about it, then?"

He knew fully well now why Anna had come to him – he simply held out hope that she would not ask him to do it. It had been getting harder and harder every day to simply be Adam Young. As the battle raged beyond the borders of Lower Tadfield, he'd had to expend more and more of his power just to keep the forces of Heaven and Hell out of his home. Adam Young was just a thirteen year-old boy…he needed the Antichrist to keep a lid on things.

His hopes proved worthless.

"I want you to bring them back."

Adam promptly pushed himself off the bench and began to trudge towards the path, his habitual slouch very firmly back in place. Dog abandoned the now-quite-slobbery mug to gallop after him.

"Adam, wait!" Anna cried, pushing herself to her feet and hurrying to join him. In response, Adam started running. What most adults, including Anna, did not realize was the Adam's slouch was quite an aerodynamic starting position for a mad dash.

But the fact remained that Anna was an angel and Adam was, despite everything, a human. By the time they made it down the hill, she managed to pull ahead of him and plant herself firmly in the middle of his path. This forced him to stumble to a stop – troublemaker he was, but the only girl he would ever willingly play rough with was Pepper.

But he scowled up at Anna as defiantly ever. "No," he said firmly. He tried to go around her. Anna grabbed him by his upper arm and jerked him back.

"Adam!" she cried, desperation in her voice.

"No!" Adam snapped, tugging his arm free with a force a human his size shouldn't have been able to muster. He put a few feet of distance between himself and Anna before turning to face her, the expression on his face cold and strange. Dog noticed this sudden change in his Master's temperament. He whimpered and backed away, unwilling to approach either Adam or Anna, and finally compromised by drawing off to the side equidistant between the two combatants.

Adam folded his arms tightly across his chest, his expression taking on that special…though human…brand of stubbornness reserved only for his father. "I won't do it," he said.

"Why?"

"I'm not fighting this time. I just want your lot and Lillith's lot to leave us all alone. I'll work for that…I'll use my special powers for that. But I won't fight, and I won't do anything that'll make me have to fight!"

"Adam…" Anna risked taking a few steps forward, before kneeling down to look the Antichrist in the eye. "Adam, you have to listen to me. We know about you. Hell knows about you. But with everyone fighting over the Seals, no one's been able to muster enough strength to risk opposing you. That doesn't mean they don't want your help. Hell wants you to help destroy the world, Heaven wants you to help save it." Anna took a deep breath. "It's good that you don't want to fight. The power you wield is dangerous and destructive and no good will come of you becoming what you were last time. I understand that, Adam. You shouldn't fight this time. But Crowley and Aziraphale can fight, and they will fight if you give them another chance. They won't just fight to stop Lucifer, they'll fight to save the world and everyone on it. The world needs beings like you, and like them."

Adam…was silent. He stared hard at the angel, his eyebrows furrowing in apparently deep thought.

He looked Up.

He looked Down.

And then he looked carefully Inside.

There were no showy special effects. There was just Crowley, stumbling a little as though he'd missed a step coming Down…or, in his case, Up. Dog looked up in good natured surprise, yapped at the demon, and bent down to curiously sniff his shoes.

"Shoo," said Crowley, stepping out of biting range. He'd learned to tread carefully around hellhounds, no matter what they looked like. Then, apparently noticing the change of scenery, he turned in a slow circle, taking in his surroundings. "…huh. If this is Hell, somebody's screwed up the paperwork again."

"It's not Hell," said Anna.

Crowley started in surprise and whirled back to face the two human-shaped figures staring at him intently…but relaxed very slightly when he recognized them both.

"Anna," he said, and smiled. "Long time, no smite. Looks like humanity didn't work out for you."

"Not as well as you might think." Anna had been an angel for a while, now…but she still managed to return Crowley's smile. "How are you?"

Crowley gave himself a cursory once-over. "All the right bits are attached. That's a good start. Did you actually…"

Anna shook her head. "I can't get away with stupid stunts like that anymore. You've got Adam here to thank for the rescue."

Crowley looked over at Adam. He nodded respectfully. "I'll do that, shall I? Thanks, kid."

Adam smiled. "You're welcome, Crowley."

"Now what about Aziraphale?"

Silence, but for the chirping of birds in the late afternoon sunshine.

"How did you know about Aziraphale?" asked Anna softly.

Crowley shrugged. "Lucky guess," he said bitterly. "He is dead, isn't he?"

Anna nodded. Crowley blessed fervently under his breath. "Who did it?"

"No one knows for sure. Castiel just…showed up with his body. I think he at least suspects who it was, but…he won't say."

"Uriel." Crowley growled low in his throat. "Had to be Uriel, that damned, blessed bastard!" He rounded on Adam. "You can bring him back, then?"

Adam nodded.

"Well, get on with it."

Adam shook his head.

Crowley bared his fangs. "Why not?"

"Angels is different," said Adam, folding his arms and frowning sullenly. "They don't die like you demons do. I can bring him back, sure, but I need to work a lot harder at it. I can't do it right now – I gotta eat dinner and go to sleep and eat breakfast before I can bring him back. That way I'll be strong enough."

As Crowley opened his mouth to snap at Adam, Anna stepped between them. "He's telling the truth, Crowley," she said, holding up her hands placatingly. "Angels don't die the same way humans or even demons die. We…scatter. Everything that we were gets scattered throughout the rest of the world. Picking out what was once Aziraphale is like searching for a few specific drops of water in the ocean. Even he'll need time to do that."

Adam nodded. "Exactly. I need time. Probably time tomorrow." He smiled confidently at Crowley. "He'll be back sometime tomorrow. So just be patient. Patience is a virtue, you know."

"I'm probably the wrong person to tell that to. Tomorrow, hm?"

"Uh-huh. You wanna stay here for tonight?"

Crowley shook his head. "No thanks. I'm all in favor of unnatural in the general sense, but this place…" He glanced around at the carefully perfect scenery of Lower Tadfield and shook his head. "Nah." Turning on his heel, the demon started off determinedly down the path.

"If I've got twelve hours to wait, that means I've got time to get my car back."