Happy Holidays! At least, I hope it is for you all. I just got internet today and my progress has been slow because of the move and being a full-time work-at-home momma. Unpacking, cleaning, voiceovers, playing with my three year old who has been EXTRA needy... I have made no progress on chapter 19. Now with Christmas and New Years? It's going to be very hard to find time to write until I can find a nice pre-school for my kid. However, you know I can't go long without writing and chapter 19 is completely outlined. After that will be the epilogue and then I'm moving on to finish my other WIP's!
Thank you beta's Azeran and Tim!
Thank you so much for all the comments and interactions on IG! I feel like I have my own little fandom family and it's wonderful!
***WARNING: ANIMAL DEATH AND A SMALL LEMON***
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
A white dove, the bird kind, diverted away from its small flock. It struggled to keep up with its family, but Aziraphale could tell it was not going to make it. The symbolism was just too close to home. Was he going to make it? Would he be able to keep up in the new world they were building? He was already struggling. So very far from himself that he didn't think he could ever fit in with the rest. But that had always been the case, had it not? Aziraphale watched with quiet anxiety as the dove tumbled in the air, righted itself, then plunged again until it smacked right into the field of sugarcane where he and Crowley were working.
It was only a few feet away, dead.
"Got some more? I ran out," Crowley called out to Aziraphale with an outstretched arm behind him.
Aziraphale was frozen in place as sadness took hold. If he were a fictional character, in some fantastical story from one of his old books, he'd say that was the most apparent foreshadowing he'd ever seen.
A long moment passed, and Crowley waved his hand with impatience. "Angel? Stems, please."
Maybe it was foreshadowing. God was the author of their story, after all. She always loved a good story, notwithstanding whether there was a sad or happy ending. At the very least, it was metaphorical. Perhaps She knew that Aziraphale's efforts in capturing some of his former Grace were futile.
It wasn't like he'd made no progress at all, as Crowley would continue to remind him. Aziraphale was in the good graces of his immediate neighbours now, and most of the other angels that Gabriel had gathered into his brain trust. Uriel was still standoffish and mostly ignored him, but they were civil now. Nevertheless, nearly a decade later and Aziraphale continued to be met with wary or blameful glances, murmurs behind his back, or obvious avoidance.
Crowley tried to convince him that all demons were treated the same way, but Aziraphale knew better. His blind anger had caused a few more episodes, and although it had been years since the last one, even he didn't know if or when something would set him off again. At least he had never hurt Crowley in those instances. That was Aziraphale's primary concern, but Crowley always proved to be the perfect balm for the pain that would sometimes send him over the edge.
Crowley turned away from his work and looked up to find Aziraphale, holding two stems in his hands by his sides. He was staring unblinkingly at the ground. When Crowley looked to where his angel's gaze had landed, his breath hitched. He looked from Aziraphale to the dead pigeon and sighed.
"Fell out of the sky," Aziraphale mumbled, "bad omen, wouldn't you say?"
Crowley almost scrambled to get up and marched over to the white lump on the ground. He picked it up and brought it to his angel, whose face was blank and pale.
"Would you like to do the honours?" Crowley asked. When Aziraphale continued to just stare at the wretched thing, Crowley pulsed a bit of power into the bird, and it came to life in his grasp. It fought and fluttered against Crowley, pecking at his fingers. "Ungrateful little bugger. Off you pop!" He threw his hands into the air, and the dove flew off in search of its flock.
Aziraphale watched the dove soar, and he smiled wistfully. Whether Aziraphale would fly or fall, Crowley would always be there to make sure he'd make it.
Crowley wiped his hands on his dirt dusted tunic, then placed them on Aziraphale's shoulders, forcing him to look into his eyes. "Love, if dead pigeons were a bad omen, then I shudder to think how much bad luck we're still in for due to your terrible magic tricks."
Aziraphale managed an amused scoff. "I suppose we've paid our debts to the misfortunate Columbidae after everything we've been through."
"Oh, absolutely," Crowley nodded and placed a tender kiss to his angel's lips. "Paid in full and with interest." He smiled and tucked silver tresses behind Aziraphale's ear. Crowley glanced around discreetly and smirked. "Fancy a shag out here?"
Aziraphale cocked an eyebrow and was about retort when a horn blew, signalling the arrival of Gabriel and his new recruits.
"Ngh," Crowley groaned, "it's like his full-time job now, interrupting us."
Aziraphale chuckled, grabbed Crowley by the collar and dragged him to the crowd gathering at their gates.
Heathenville (the name stuck) was bustling with humans, angels and demons alike. All were working together to finish construction on the homes, education, and medical centres. Once the witches had warded against miracle detection and the like, everything finally came together.
The town was a creature, in and of itself, alive and breathing. It may have been smaller than the neighbouring city of the sanctuary, but it was thriving just as much, and the inhabitants were proud of their hard work. The vegetation expansion, led by Crowley, had brought with it all manner of animals, large and small. The trees were vibrant and growing speedily, giving their town a foresty look, like something out of a fairytale. Heathenville was like a new Eden, as self-sustaining as it was beautiful, not despite its odd mix of inhabitants, but because of it.
Gabriel and Ramiel led a group of demons down toward the town. Most everyone was gathered to welcome them. It was an essential tradition so that every newcomer would know the importance of cohabiting in harmony. Or as much peace as possible. There were always bound to be hiccups.
Once everyone was settled, Gabriel took centre stage and addressed the crowd, miracling his voice loud enough for everyone to hear.
"Welcome to your new home!" Gabriel exclaimed, opening his arms wide and turning in a circle. "Here, you will find refuge but most importantly, friends. We've all had a harrowing journey, humans, angels, and demons alike." He nodded and motioned to the townspeople. "Living among you, you will come across those who were once strangers, former associates, and those you once considered enemies." He dropped his hands. "I'm sure plenty of you would have loved to drive a pitchfork through my head not that long ago."
The newcomers and townspeople chuckled and murmured.
Gabriel smiled genuinely and lifted his hands in supplication. "We're all here for the same reason. We're tired. We're injured. We've had enough of killing... and dying. Demons are not the only ones damned in this new and hateful world. We're all in need of saving."
Some of the demons grumbled with complaints, but Gabriel spoke over them.
"Satan won't save you." The archangel took a deep breath and sighed sadly. "God won't save you either. Separate, we remain condemned. Together?" He clasped his hands loudly. "Together, we can save ourselves!"
The crowd cheered, and the new inhabitants clapped and nodded.
"Now, go in peace! Your guides will help you get settled."
The crowd dispersed, the welcoming committee walked forward to give the new citizens the tour, and Gabriel headed straight for Crowley and Aziraphale with Ramiel in tow.
"Oh, here we go," Crowley sighed dejectedly.
Aziraphale elbowed him. "You love it when they come to you for advice."
Crowley smirked and elbowed him back. "So do you."
"Hiya, boys!" Gabriel greeted. "We've got most of the reports back from our people on the outside. Just waiting for a few more scouts but I don't see why we can't call a meeting already."
Ramiel nodded. "Moloch is waiting by the gate for the stragglers. She'll let us know as soon as they get in."
"Great," Crowley clapped his hands together, "let's get started then. Oh, and Gabe?"
Gabriel frowned at the nickname. "Yeah?"
"Nice speech," Crowley winked.
"You would say that," Gabriel sneered, "Aziraphale wrote most of it."
"Did not," Aziraphale defended, affronted.
"Yes, you did," said Ramiel. "It was the product of all your wise words over the years, Aziraphale. You should be proud."
Aziraphale scoffed and bristled, but was secretly pleased, which earned him a smile and a wink from his proud husband.
They laughed and began to walk toward the town-centre when a buzzing sound stopped Gabriel in his tracks. He whirled around, surprised to see a swarm of flies headed right for him.
"That's... odd," Gabriel's voice was tight with worry. "It's too soon to-"
The familiars buzzed around Gabriel before spelling out their message.
Don't.
Be.
Stupid.
The words hung in the air for a moment, and all at once, the flies dropped dead to the ground.
Gabriel paled and felt a cold dread creep up his spine as he watched the little flies disappear little by little. They'd never done that before. They had always flown back the way they came. Beelzebub did not want him to contact them, so they sent a one-way message.
"Gabriel, what does it mean?" Ramiel asked.
Crowley and Aziraphale looked to each other knowingly before Gabriel turned to face them once more.
"Nothing," Gabriel replied resolutely. "They're just dumb," he chuckled. "As usual. Taunting me or whatever." Fear glinted in his eyes.
Before more could be said, another horn blew, and soon after Moloch zipped down the narrow path. She tucked her wings in to stop them from grazing the rocky sides, which sent her diving headfirst to the ground. The skilful demon managed to brace her landing, momentum carrying her the rest of the way down. She ran like the Devil himself was chasing her.
"Gabriel!" Moloch shouted as she produced a letter from her person. "We have a problem," they skidded to a stop in front of the archangel and held out the note with a trembling hand.
A long pause hung in the air as Gabriel eyed the letter, he shook his head in denial. With a determined sniff, he took the note and read it silently.
All watched anxiously, waiting for the news, hoping it was nothing of too much importance. Certainly, Beelzebub was safe-
A choked sob escaped the archangel, and he doubled over, panting and dropping the letter to the ground. Ramiel and Crowley were quick to catch and steady him, but Gabriel was practically dead weight.
The group spoke over each other as Aziraphale calmly picked up the letter and read the message aloud. "The traitor, Beelzebub, is to be executed publicly by the hand of your Lord, the Destroyer of Worlds."
Crowley snapped his disbelieving eyes to Aziraphale. "Adam?" He whispered hoarsely.
Aziraphale gave a curt nod. "Along with other traitors found in their ranks."
The dove looked at the broken archangel at his feet. The former Messenger of God stayed kneeling, eyes vacant, livid with grief and desperation. Tears began to roll down his cheeks as he tried to compose himself. Aziraphale knew that face. It was his own once.
Taking out a handkerchief from his pocket, Aziraphale knelt in front of the archangel and gently dabbed at his tears.
Gabriel blinked at him in a half daze, not noticing the intimate gesture. "What do I do?" He rasped. "Tell me what to do," he pleaded quietly.
Aziraphale looked to Crowley first who gave him a pained expression then nodded. It was with forced resolution that Aziraphale levelled his gaze with the fallen soldier. "You go and get them, naturally."
"Angel," Crowley warned. "He can't go alone."
Eyes still piercing Gabriel to the spot, Aziraphale replied softly. "Of course not."
"That means," Moloch swallowed, "we go and fight..."
"Indeed," Ramiel agreed.
Gabriel took in a long shaky breath. "I can't-I can't risk the lives of our people for-for," he sobbed, "one-"
"Not just one," Aziraphale emphasized, "your one." He nodded his head in the direction of the town. "Their ones. All the ones who have been discovered, who are under your protection and guidance."
Gabriel's eyes scanned the town, looked at his friends, yes, friends, and nodded. "Send for reinforcements," he ordered finally.
"Which ones?" Asked Moloch.
Gabriel stood up with the help of his friends and glared toward the sky. "All of them."
The very air was charged with anticipation and a vast array of erratic emotions. Every able body was armed with blessed weapons. Gabriel was adamant in his message to his soldiers that they were to try and avoid destroying their brethren at all costs. Discorporation was the primary intent. When Gabriel was challenged that Hell would just pump out more vessels, Gabriel replied that there was a plan in place to attack Hell's Corporation Division.
It was settled. They were to show mercy whenever possible and free their captive flock. The primary target was Satan himself, the Horsemen, and the Antichrist, the only ones fated for destruction to free those too chained down by their influence and power. Gabriel had faith that without Lucifer and the Dark Council, the war would end immediately.
In the fragile safety of their home, Aziraphale and Crowley sought each other for comfort and fortitude. Their lovemaking was slow and gentle, and as they rocked together in their bed, they spoke in murmurs and whispers between kisses and soft moans.
"We don't have to go, angel," Crowley spoke as he kept his husband's gaze. "We don't have to fight."
Aziraphale was desperate for more contact though they were already one. He grabbed fistfuls of red locks and pulled Crowley's face down toward him, invading Crowley's mouth with his tongue. His head dropped back onto the pillow and his back arched before he could reply. "I know."
Crowley dragged his right hand down his angel's side and then under his knee. He hooked Aziraphale's leg over his hip and drove deeper with an agonizingly slow thrust. They groaned in unison. "Are we choosing the world, then?"
"We are the world," Aziraphale whispered back into Crowley's neck before biting down to leave his mark.
Crowley pumped his hips shallow and fast. "Together, we can save ourselves, huh," he panted out the phrase.
"Together," Aziraphale rasped back and crushed their lips against one another's.
Their muscles tensed as Crowley pushed harder and quicker. "I won't," Crowley cried out, "I won't go anywhere without-without you."
Aziraphale tried to speak, he thought he did, but what came out was keening puffs of air as the pleasure peaked.
"Together," Crowley husked between his frantic words, "together or noth-nothing." He whipped his hips, driving into his angel as much as he could.
"Yes," Aziraphale mewled, clinging to Crowley for dear life until there was not a hair's breadth between them. "Always to-together."
Their cries of pleasure followed one another's, Crowley thrusting deep through the fall and crash in Aziraphale's tight embrace. When the blinding stars receded from behind their eyes, they laid there quietly, hearing everything they ever wanted to say to each other, in an old language that could not be spoken aloud.
Their union lasted forever and yet not long enough. When they untangled themselves, they stood together, always touching in one way or another. Their essence calling and intermingling when one was physically too far away. Their communication was constant even if their mouths made no sounds. They felt more like one being than ever before. Of one mind, one heart. Of one soul. It was how it was always supposed to be, they felt. Whatever they had just done unknowingly while making their vows, it was permanent. It was perfect.
The lovers dressed and armed one another. Aziraphale practically floated to the chest underneath their bed and pulled it out. He peered within, Crowley seeing through his eyes. Death in a bottle laid there.
"Holy water," said Crowley, his voice sounding odd to him now.
"Insurance," Aziraphale amended and grabbed the cannister, placing it in a sack on his belt.
Not if we can help it, Crowley sent his thought.
Insurance, Aziraphale affirmed and nodded.
At that moment, a horn blew and echoed throughout.
It was time.
Satan did not like to waste the lives of his demons, or angels for that matter, but he had promised Adam that he could do what he pleased with the traitors. Adam had chosen mass public execution. It surprised the Lord of Hell, but he'd sensed the resentment and wrath growing within his son as the years went on.
It wasn't the harshness of the punishment that bothered Satan (after all, he killed humans all the time); it was the finality of it. He much prefered repentance via torture and manipulation. Things were different now. He thought he had won the hearts of his subjects, how had never been relevant, but he'd been wrong. Satan did not like being wrong. An infection had spread in his ranks right under his nose, at his very table. It needed to be cut out entirely, or the treason would continue to spread. He would know, being the leader of the first and most famous rebellion of all time. The irony of it soured his stomach whenever he thought too deeply on it.
Now his son stood by his side, as they watched the platoons take their places out on the field surrounding his new church where the executions would be held. He looked down at Adam and was slightly disturbed by his cold and blank expression. The boy was like a machine ever since the battle at the castle, after the "dynamic duo" made their miraculous escape. He'd given Aziraphale and Crowley too much credit that night, thinking they accomplished the feat all on their own. It was not beyond the realm of possibility, but it was apparent now that Beelzebub had helped. Adam may have even colluded as well, only to be abandoned by his new friends.
Satan did not need to punish his son for his recklessness and stupidity. It was apparent the boy regretted his actions. He'd learned. Instead, Satan took the opportunity to drive his lesson home. Love was folly. Love was weakness. Love was a deadly crack in one's vital amour where the enemy would always aim for. Adam finally agreed.
It was no surprise to Adam when the whispers of war came to him. War herself was angsty and eager, telling all who would listen that something big was coming. The small lord knew this would bring out the rebels once and for all, and his father could not have been prouder. This was it. He could no longer wait for fate to take its course. He had to make his own fate. It was all in his hands, and he was eager to set things in motion.
Beelzebub was dragged out and thrown at Satan's feet. Adam stepped toward them and kicked their side.
"Kneel before us, traitor," Adam spat viciously.
Beelzebub bit down a groan while they were hoisted to their knees. They didn't bother speaking or looking up.
"Oh, my dear, Beelzebub," Satan purred. "I was going to show you mercy by giving you penance, you know, a few millennia of torture and reforming, but my son is quite upset with you in particular."
"I wonder why," the traitor uttered hoarsely, still looking at the ground.
Satan glared at them. "It doesn't matter why." He gave Adam a reassuring pat on the head. "I've heard some delicious gossip about you and Gabriel, by the by."
Beelzebub snapped their head up, almost collapsing with the sudden movement. They watched Satan sneer down at them as they tried to school their panic.
"You're a fool," Satan admonished with a smile. "You of all my demons, I thought we were of the same mind. When will my followers learn?" He frowned and shook his head. "No matter. I will end this today. I do hope Gabriel shows. It's been far too long since we've seen each other."
Beelzebub managed to spit a wad of blood and snot at Lucifer's feet. "He'll destroy you!"
At that, Satan burst out laughing. "Lovestruck fool. He'll join you in the void when this is finished, or perhaps I'll keep him for a bit before I sever his pretty head from his shoulders with Hellfire."
Beelzebub's eyes widened before they sent themselves lurching toward the Devil, teeth and nails sharp, ready to dismember.
They were abruptly knocked back down again. They snarled and kicked, but it was no use.
Satan rolled his eyes. "Face them toward our soldiers so they can see clearly what happens to traitors." He turned to Adam and quirked a brow. "Do you still wish to administer the finishing blow?"
Adam nodded curtly. "Yes."
"Taking a life with your own hands is no small matter, my son. This will follow you for the rest of your existence. It will shape you into something very different. Do you think you are ready for that?"
Adam took one breath, then squared his shoulders. "I'm done waiting around and being nothing. I'm done with being lied to and manipulated. I'm ready."
Satan smirked. "I'm," he cleared his throat and preened, "proud of you, son."
"Thank you, father," Adam whispered.
Satan's gaze whipped to his son, who was keenly staring at the traitor. He'd never called him father before. For the first time since he could remember, Lucifer was rendered speechless.
After a long moment, the Lord of Hell shook himself and focussed on the matter at hand. "Very well." He raised a hand and made his voice boom and echo for all to hear. "The Destroyer of Worlds has sentenced the demon Beelzebub to an immortal's True Death. All the other traitors found among our ranks shall follow them into the void. This is what happens when you betray me, your god. Consider it a mercy. Your death shall be quick by the will of my son, your Lord, the Antichrist."
Satan motioned for War who marched forward and handed Adam the tainted flaming sword of Wisdom. Adam took it, felt the hilt's cold steel as his hands wrapped around the leather handle, and the flames warmed his face.
"Deliver your judgement, Destroyer!" Satan boomed.
Adam's heart hammered in his chest. His breath came in shallow, a prickly sensation travelled from his head to his hands, and the hairs on his neck rose with anticipation.
He stepped toward the kneeling traitor and raised his sword-
The sound of a battle horn was faint in the distance, but Adam heard it. The small Lord paused and looked to his father, who was scanning the horizon, a small smile on his wicked lips.
"You might want to wait a moment, my son. I think we're about to have a new audience."
It was not long before the earth trembled with the march of thousands of rebels, Demon, Angel, human. A large flock of black and white wings could be seen in the air as well. The closer they got, the more details Adam could glean. The rebels were armed to the teeth, their armour all matched with an emblem on it that Adam had never seen before. It was the image of a human figure flanked by two pairs of wings, one white the other black.
Beelzebub made a whimpering sound at the sight of Gabriel leading the charge. After a surge of anger, they couldn't help but be relieved to see him. The rebels came as close as they dared. The horn blew once more, and everyone came to a halt.
Beelzebub was the first one Gabriel saw, and one could argue that they were the only one Gabriel could see. He nodded at them first, then caught Satan's gaze. With a snap of his fingers, Gabriel's voice amplified as he spoke.
"Humans and demons," Gabriel cried out, "lay down your weapons and walk away from the oppressor. Join us and no harm will come to you."
Satan made a show of looking around wildly to see if someone would listen to the rebel leader. Then he looked back to Gabriel and shrugged. "Oh, well," Satan deadpanned, amplifying his own voice so that all could hear. "I would say the same to your lot, but then we all know that would be a lie. What I can offer is punishment. Repent, and I shall let you all live... eventually."
Gabriel ignored him and continued to address the enemy ranks. "Look at us! We are proof that we can all work together, all live together in peace. You can all be part of this as well. And we can finally build a world we can all share alongside one another."
Lucifer never liked being ignored. The Deceiver waited not so patiently and waited for an opportunity to interrupt. He splayed his arms wide. "There is no such thing as peace. Peace cannot exist without War. Our side won, Gabriel. Your hubris will not allow you to admit defeat. And now you lead your followers into war - again. How many is that now? Three? Three Wars and you'll lose just as many. Those of you following this weakling will lose your lives today if you don't surrender this instant."
Gabriel shook his head. "I have said my piece. Surrender at any time, and you will be shown mercy." He pointed to Lucifer. "Except you."
"Imbecile." Satan turned to his son and nodded. "Destroy the traitor."
Adam nodded slowly and raised his sword again. It was then Crowley's voice echoed over the field, making Adam freeze.
"Adam," Crowley pleaded, "you don't have to do this. We can still fix everything. You know this is wrong."
Adam refused to look up. If he saw Crowley, he'd lose his nerve. "There is no right or wrong!" Adam shouted.
"Perhaps, perhaps not," Aziraphale's words pierced him next "I'm not so certain myself anymore. But there is what you can live with. Can you live with what you're about to do, Adam?"
"This is it, Adam," Crowley called warningly. "Come with us. We're here for you now."
"And we should have never left you," Aziraphale added somberly.
Adam wanted to see their faces, see if the truth could be read there along with their words, but he steeled his resolve and kept his eyes trained on Beelzebub. Tears streamed down Adam's cheeks, but his face was resolute. He shook his head in denial. "I'm tired of waiting for something to happen. You made your choice. Now I've made mine!"
Time slowed, and the world fell away as Beelzebub managed a smile, meant for only one being in the entire universe. Gabriel cried out in response. It was too late. They were much too far. No one would be able to reach Beelzebub before Adam could strike.
The sound of the sword coming down, high-pitched and promising death, rang out for all to hear.
There would not have been another cliffhanger had I been able to fit everything I wanted in this chapter but this was the most logical place to stop... I'm SORRY! But you know I do it because I love you all, right? I've had a few of people BEG me not to kill Beelzebub, Tim included lol. It's okay if you're cursing my name right now.
I will try my very best to complete chapter 19 before next Monday, but it may just take two whole weeks for me to get it done, beta'd, edited, and draw the chapter art. As usual, I will keep you all posted on my IG private stories. If you want to be added, just DM me on IG with "add me." AT mordellestories
Friends, I really do hope you have a wonderful Holiday season. Best wishes to ALL of you! And thank you for sticking with me this far!