AN: WHEW! This chapter was a challenge to say the least.
Thank you to all of you who have spurred me on, especially those of you who have been here from the beginning. Your comments have really helped me stay motivated even in the worst of times!
Thank you beta's: Azeran, Tim, IntergalacticSuperTwink (finally got my very own Brit-picker!) You've all been a godsend!
***WARNINGS: Graphic violence, blood, gore, multiple character deaths***
The battle begins!
Gabriel cried out in anguish and lurched forward, weaponless hand outstretched to the smiling demon prince at Adam's feet.
It had happened so swiftly that for a moment, not even Satan knew what had occurred he had still reacted in time. Everyone stood rooted to the spot as Satan gawked at the Flaming sword caught between the points of his trident.
Adam's face was tear-streaked and red with effort. He was panting and growling, pushing with all his might to drive the sword through the devil. But Lucifer was much too strong for him. Quickly, Satan manoeuvred his weapon and disarmed the boy.
Satan stared at his treacherous son in quiet rage. "How disappointing," he snarled with disdain.
Beelzebub launched to standing and screamed as loud as they could. "Doves, fly!"
Thousands of demons scattered throughout the ranks let their white wings unfurl, with their companions spreading their black wings and following them as they soared upwards and away from the unholy hoard. Everyone was so stunned by the spectacle that Beelzebub was able to send themselves into the sky, momentarily out of harm's way.
Gabriel shouted out the order for the charge, and the mayhem of war began in an instant. The shouts and blaring screams came first, followed by the sounds of damned and holy weapons meeting.
Crowley snatched Aziraphale's hand and locked eyes with his husband. Without needing to say a word, they soared up together to meet the other Doves and their companions who were still airborne.
Crowley pointed to half the flock. "You lot, free our captured. From there, attack from the West."
Aziraphale pointed to the other half. "And the rest of you make for the North end and disarm the long-range soldiers."
"Discorporation is the goal, not destruction," Crowley added.
"And you two?" Asked a demon clinging to their partner in fear.
The husbands raised their chins and squared their shoulders. "We're gonna cut off the head of the Beast," Crowley answered.
"Go now and lick some serious arse!" Aziraphale said proudly, pumping a fist in the air.
Crowley choked and sent a hand to his throat. "Aziraphale! We've been through this before, it's 'kick'! KICK!"
No one heard Crowley's correction as the lot of them had already shouted with enthusiasm and dispersed to follow their orders.
"Sorry," Aziraphale shrugged with amusement and a little wiggle. "I suppose I was thinking too hard on what I'll do to you after our victory."
Crowley's eyebrows nearly disappeared entirely. "You had me at hello," he drawled with a grin.
They smiled at one another, then the grins faded.
"Together," said Crowley.
Aziraphale nodded. "Always."
Gabriel, Uriel, Ramiel and Moloch met them in the air. "Where are the reinforcements?" Gabriel asked with a growl.
"On their way," replied Moloch.
"We can't wait much longer, but maybe-" Ramiel was interrupted by a snarling Gabriel.
"I'm not waiting another second." Gabriel raised his lance, tucked in his wings, and plunged downward toward Beelzebub who was losing their fight against three demons and a human.
Those left behind looked to Aziraphale.
"Is the antichrist still a target?" Asked Ramiel.
"No!" Crowley shouted. He turned to Aziraphale anyway with a pleading look. "You saw him Aziraphale, he tried to kill Satan."
Aziraphale looked below and spotted Adam, the flaming sword back in his hands as he swung it over and over again at his father. The boy had no skill, he was swinging haphazardly, and Aziraphale wondered why Satan was humouring him and not striking Adam down or at least, disarming him again.
The realization hit Aziraphale like a brick to his skull. His eyes widened. "He's still a target-"
"What?!" Crowley yelled in outrage before he could sense what Aziraphale meant.
"We must capture the boy," Aziraphale continued as he sent his thoughts and reassurance to his companion. Our theory wasn't entirely wrong! It's Adam, Crowley. It was never me, it's always been Adam! "Don't harm him, but we must take him as our hostage."
What are you on about, Aziraphale? Crowley sent his question back. "If we're going to take him hostage, then I should be the one to do it. He knows I won't hurt him." At least he hoped Adam knew that.
"Then we'll lead our charge toward War and Pestilence and try to hold them while you execute your plan," said Moloch.
They all agreed and went their separate ways. Crowley and Aziraphale flew side by side, wings grazing ever so slightly. Aziraphale decided to keep the new information private.
Crowley, Lucifer didn't replace Michael with me. He replaced them with Adam. All this time we thought it was me because of the timing! There was no one new in the picture. But there was! Adam didn't start getting involved with the council until he found out I was up for promotion!
"You can't be serious," Crowley scoffed out loud. "Are you saying that Lucifer has suddenly sprouted a heart? The King of Hell is capable of fatherly love? Rubbish."
Aziraphale frowned. "You said it yourself, Fallen or no, we are all still angels. We've always been capable of love, whether we reject the source or not."
Crowley was near ripping out his hair. "But he hates love. He didn't just reject it, he's gone mad trying to destroy it!"
One cannot destroy the indestructible just as one cannot understand the-
"No," Crowley interrupted aloud. "Don't you dare say it, don't even think it!"
"... ineffable."
"I swear to Someone-!"
Uriel was suddenly before them, their sword raised for attack, their face contorted with wrath, and they were headed right for them.
Aziraphale held his breath. Uriel was charging right for him.
Uriel roared.
Crowley slammed himself into Aziraphale, their wings getting caught up in one another's. They dropped just in time for Uriel to crash right into Hastur who had been silently gaining on him from behind.
Everything was a blur as Aziraphale tumbled downward. He tried to right himself, but it was useless. The small, falling dove came to mind, and at that moment, he knew what he had to do. Aziraphale's wings disappeared, and he spread his arms wide, closing his eyes.
And was caught.
He was bridal-style in someone's arms. Aziraphale beamed before even opening his eyes.
"Hello, gorgeous," Crowley winked with a quick flash of teeth.
Aziraphale reached up and kissed him hard.
Hastur and Uriel hit the ground hard. They were a tangle of limbs, neither able to strike a blow to their opponent as they tried almost fruitlessly to right themselves.
"UGH!" Uriel gagged. "What is that smell?!" They shoved the frog-like demon away finally and scrambled to stand, lifting their sword and pointing it at their enemy.
Hastur coughed up dirt and spat it at Uriel's feet, limping away from them and trying desperately to find his weapon he'd dropped in the fall. "You cost me my vengeance, bless it! You'll pay!"
Uriel stood their ground and did not advance on the weaponless demon. They stared until recognition came. Uriel's jaw dropped, and they looked at their Fallen comrade from long ago. "Allocen?!"
"It's Hastur, Duke of Hell for your information," he groused back.
Uriel shook off their stupor and tried to push away the memories they had buried once already in vain. They knew of the demon Hastur, how could they not? There weren't that many dukes charged with delivering the Antichrist. Uriel was just unaware of who Hastur had been Before, until now. "Allocen, it's me, Uriel."
Hastur laughed. "Really? And here I thought you were the Queen of England."
"There is no Queen of England," Uriel replied, confused.
Hastur frowned and shrugged self-consciously. "I know that. I meant - ah, nevermind! I know who you are!"
Uriel felt their corporation's heart clench. They could not reconcile their memory of the once beautiful angel with the rancid demon before them. "We were friends..."
The archangel was momentarily lost in the past and Hastur did not wait to take advantage. He spotted an abandoned sword on the ground and slowly inched his way to it. It would not destroy Uriel, but at least he'd be able to discorporate them as long as he had the element of surprise.
"Is that what we were, Uriel?" Said Hastur, dripping with venom. "There were no enemies back then, so how could we have been friends?" He continued, hoping to keep Uriel's eyes on his. "That word didn't even exist at the time-"
"Because we didn't need it," Uriel bristled. "It was just known. But you and I," they shook their head slowly with a pained expression, "I mourned your loss."
"Ha! Yeah, then you erased me. Some friend." Hastur smiled, showing blackened sharp teeth.
Uriel felt sick. "We don't have to do this. We don't have to fight. You heard Gabriel. Surrender now, and I will spare you."
A scoff ripped out of Hastur before he threw his head back and laughed loudly. "Says the loving, forgiving angel who butchered five of their so-called friends." His chuckles died off, and his black irises swallowed the whites of his eyes. "The Almighty herself does not forgive, so how could I expect your lot to after everything you've done?" He was so close to the weapon half-hidden in the dirt.
Tears welled up in Uriel's eyes.
"Aw, poor Uriel," Hastur pouted. "Now that they have their memories back, murder doesn't have the same appeal. That's alright," he consoled. "I'll make it easy for ya." He grinned wide, black poison dribbling down his chin, and finally sprang for the sword.
Gabriel discorporated at least fifteen demons trying to get to Beelzebub. He was a prime target, and the demons just kept coming, wave after wave. His four human companions had already met their end. He was alone and surrounded, but when he heard Beelzebub cry out in pain, Gabriel's resolve strengthened.
With a roar, Gabriel speared a demon through their shoulder and used them as a battering ram. He pushed through the hoard that kept him from his beloved and finally spotted them.
Beelzebub was holding their side and weakly blocking attacks with their mace. Gabriel surged forward, pulled his lance out of the unfortunate demon still skewered on it, and sent it hurtling through the air.
The lance made contact with one of Beelzebub's attackers, but it was enough for them to advance and swiftly discorporate two of their former subordinates. They doubled over and frantically shuffled in a circle looking for more enemies. A looming figure came from behind, and Gabriel was lucky the demon was exhausted and severely wounded. He was able to dodge Beelzebub's mace by a hair.
"Don't kill the messenger," Gabriel smiled smugly. He leaned down with every intention to finally kiss the demon who haunted his every thought. Gabriel was unable to dodge Beelzebub's second attack. The demon prince snatched his ear and tugged hard. "Ow-ow-ow! Bug, why?!" He whined, unable to stand or get away.
"I told you not to do anything stupid, you overgrown dodo! And were you about to kiss me for the first time covered in sweat, blood, and dirt in the middle of a blessed battle?"
Gabriel grimaced. "Um. Yes?"
"You know me so well," Beelzebub growled and yanked on Gabriel's ear to bruise his lips with theirs. They let a stunned Gabriel go and wiped their mouth with the back of their bloody hand. "Disgusting," they said and grinned sheepishly for the first time in aeons.
Adam had given up hope on Crowley and Aziraphale. The little bit he had left for Beelzebub was snuffed out when they refused to include him in their plans. And yes, he was angry. Adam was so very furious at the world, at his so-called friends, his teacher, most of all he was mad and so, so very furious at himself. He didn't know whether he was going to survive. But it didn't matter anymore. He was determined to do something. But now as he swung over and over again at his father, not Landing a single blow, Adam realized he would never be able to best Satan. He had been relying on the element of surprise. But that had failed him.
"What are you doing, Adam?" chided Satan. He was hanging onto his last thread of patience so he wouldn't accidentally murder his son on the spot. "After everything that's happened, why do you continue to fight the truth!" Oh, how familiar this all is, he thought with annoyance.
"JUST DIE ALREADY!" Came Adam's response, his voice almost completely gone. The fire from the sword had already gone out. And Adam didn't know how to relight it, but he swung anyway. He swung like his life depended on it - and it did. He didn't value his life as much as he did in the past, back when he didn't even know angels and demons existed. But he still cared enough to fight for some kind of future.
"This game grows tiresome," Satan snarled while easily deflecting Adam's weakening attacks. "I suppose I should be proud of your rebellious nature. You are my son, after all." He smiled wickedly. "Eventually you will learn that your so-called friends will fail you and you will have no one to turn to but me."
"NEVER! YOU RUINED MY LIFE!"
Their swords crossed and Satan loomed over Adam, pushing the Antichrist toward the ground with slow ease. "How dramatic children can be. I have all the time in the universe to wait and watch you come crawling to me on…"
One of Adam's legs gave out, sending his right knee to the floor.
"... your…"
Adam's other knee followed suit.
"... knees," Satan finished with a hiss through bared teeth.
Now, all Adam could do was hope that someone would swoop in and finish what he had started.
As if on cue, Aziraphale dropped right in front of him. "Out-of-the-way boy!" Before Adam could react, Aziraphale sent his foot forward, kicking Adam square in the chest, sending him flying. A pair of arms caught him and ripped the sword from his hand.
"I'll take that thank you!"
"Crowley?" Adam struggled against his grip, trying to turn around and face him but Crowley would not relent. Crowley hooked an arm around his throat and squeezed him tight against his body.
"Get off me!" Adam thrashed.
"I would hold still if I were you!" Warned Crowley. The sword recognized its master and abruptly came to life. The flames had burst higher than anyone had seen in a long time. For a moment, Satan looked alarmed but quickly schooled his features. The former Archangel Jophiel looked wild and deadly.
Adam felt Crowley squeeze his shoulder in what he thought was reassurance. He kept the sword a safe distance away from the boy and sneered at the Deceiver. "Would you look at that?" said Crowley. "Baby knows its momma," he cooed.
Aziraphale's cinquedea was already alight.
Lucifer only lowered his trident slightly as he smirked between the two armed demons, as they circled him slowly. "What are you going to do, Crowley? Kill the boy? He's on your side, I reckon. Or did you miss the brat attempt patricide?" He made no eye contact with Adam and let his words drip with as much venom as possible.
"It matters not," said Aziraphale. "He's your progeny, and we know that means more to you than you let on."
"What are you on about?" Asked Satan
"That you love your precious little boy," mocked Aziraphale with a smug smile.
" 'Love is weakness,' " said Crowley with an amusing impression of the Father of Lies. "Isn't that what you always say? Well, consider the lesson learned. I have your weakness right here," he jostled Adam, "and if you don't stand down, little Adam here is going to suffer the consequences of your actions."
Satan's laughter boomed, but his stance did not relax. "Even if that were true, you think I'd really believe you would kill him? Should've had Azirath pretend to take him hostage, I might have believed the ruse."
Crowley frowned.
"He will do as I say," snarled Aziraphale before changing his tune when he spoke to Crowley, "isn't that right, dearest?"
"Anything you like, angel," Crowley breathed adoringly.
"Oh, is that so?" Said Satan as his weapon twitched. "Have you by the wings, does he, Crawley? I guess we all know who tops." He chuckled with a leer.
"You'd be surprised," muttered Crowley under his breath for only Adam to hear.
Adam ceased his struggling, shocked by the little joke that was breathed in his ear. Crowley continued to move his arm as if Adam was trying to escape, and then Adam understood. Crowley would not hurt him. Tears of relief and hope streamed down Adam's face, but Satan read as something different.
"Don't be frightened, son. They won't harm you."
"Try me," growled Crowley. "He's half human, Lucifer. Who knows what my sword will do to him?"
"All it takes is a little singe to find out!" Aziraphale surged forward to attack.
Sword against trident, they parried, while Crowley inched closer.
Crowley had banked on Adam being safe from his father and feeling the tiniest bit like an arsehole for using the boy as a human shield when Satan suddenly sounded on him. Adam squeezed his eyes shut. The last thing he saw was the three points of Satan's trident going right for his face.
But the blow never came.
Adam opened his eyes and found the trident a hair's breadth away from his throat.
Satan roared with pure rage, his claws getting longer, his horns growing more massive, and he was getting taller and less human by the second.
Aziraphale took that moment to rush toward Satan, aiming to stab him in the back quite literally but the Deceiver anticipated it. Lucifer twirled his trident over his head, smacking Aziraphale's sword away and driving Aziraphalel to the ground.
"Fine." His voice was not human anymore. "You take my companion? Then I take yours."
Aziraphale used his bare hands to grasp the weapon coming down on him. The sharp tips of Lucifer's trident slowly sank into Aziraphale's armour while Aziraphale groaned with pain and effort to keep himself from getting skewered.
"STOP!" Crowley bellowed, voice breaking.
"NO," cried Adam at the same time.
Satan ground his teeth and glared at his son. "He would have let me drive right through you and still you are on their side? You ungrateful brat. They do not care for you. I do. I have given you everything. I have given you immortality. I have given you power. It is because of me that you live at all. It is because of me you are literally worshipped. We're going to have to work on your gratitude, my boy."
"You're a deranged evil bastard!" was all Adam could reply while staring wide-eyed at Aziraphale losing his grip.
"Flattery will not save you from being grounded," Satan retorted dryly. "I'm finished with playing the doting, understanding father. After this is done, you will be punished just like the rest until you submit to me. And you will submit to me, make no mistake. I've been your destiny since the day you were conceived."
"Let Aziraphale go," demanded Crowley.
"Release the brat and I will."
"You go first. I don't trust you," Crowley replied, trying to hide the desperation in his tone.
Satan had the gall to smile. "And I trust no one."
"Lucifer," Aziraphale choked out, "look around you. You're losing. If you want your son to survive then stand down and take him to safety. It's your only chance."
Satan took a moment to take stock of the situation. What he saw enraged him further. Azirath was not lying. His soldiers were losing. Their discorporated vessels littered the field around them in pools of blood. Angels and demons were fighting against his side, and the human slaves had already turned on him as well. He was outnumbered.
Lucifer turned his gaze to the sky and screamed his wrath and frustration to an absent God. Then he looked down at Aziraphale, roared again, and pushed his trident through.
"NO!" Crowley screamed, throwing Adam to one side and lurching for the devil.
Just because Hastur was graceless in his technique did not mean he was not skilled. He held his own very well and because Uriel was hesitant to discorporate him, scar his demonic soul, or worse, destroy him with their holy weapon, Hastur had the advantage.
"Allocen, Uriel pleaded, "Stop this. I don't want to harm you."
Weapons collided, crossed in front of them, and they were face-to-face. For a moment they just stared at each other.
"I'm sorry, Allocen," said Uriel, real remorse apparent on their face.
Hastur flinched. "My name is Hastur," he replied weakly. No one had ever said they were sorry for anything they did to Hastur, especially no Angel.
Hastur did not advance, and he seemed confused. Uriel decided to keep trying their luck. "I was wrong. We were all wrong. For casting you out and not listening when all you wanted was to be heard and to understand. Instead of showing you love we showed you malice. But I will show you love now. If you give me a chance. One more chance to make everything right."
Hastur's remaining sneer faded from his face and was replaced with several emotions trying to take over at once. He eased his weapon away from Uriel and stepped back, still on his guard. It had the effect Uriel wanted.
"You really mean it? You're not lying?" Hastur asked softly.
"Of course, I'm not lying! You can trust me, old friend. I'm an angel after all," Uriel joked. Uriel breathed a sigh of relief when Hastur bent low and laid their weapon on the ground at their feet.
Hastur stood up slowly and kept eye contact with the angel who was the closest thing to a friend he had before his Fall. "I never thought I'd see the day when I would trust an angel." He chuckled mirthlessly.
Uriel lowered their weapon. They were still smiling when a bottle of Hellfire dropped from the sky and broke on their crown. They couldn't hear Hastur over their own screams as they watched themselves disintegrate into nothing.
"Definitely never thought I'd see the day where an angel would trust a demon," Hastur laughed and shrieked with glee.
Hastur looked around for his next victim and spotted one of his slaves. "Leech,' he called, "fetch me some holy water!" He spotted Crowley from a distance. "I have a job to finish."
Hellfire rained over the battlefield, setting fire to enemies and allies alike. Crowley had just enough time to evade the small bombs of hellish flames that seemed to erupt everywhere at once. Then Crowley dodged attacks from demons who'd come to Lucifer's aid.
Aziraphale was doing an impressive job keeping Satan from skewering him like shishkabob, but he couldn't last forever. Crowley knew what that trident was capable of. All archangels had been created with their unique weapons, and they had the power to scar and destroy another immortal. Aziraphale had been injured once already in the first rebellion, which meant he was strong enough to survive the blow. Could he survive another blow? Crowley was not about to find out. He was out of his mind with dread over losing his companion, and his corporeal form showed it.
Scales shimmered from his fingertips to his forearms, his fangs were out, and his eyes were glinting and wild.
Meanwhile, Aziraphale struggled as Satan continued to drive his weapon home.
"Looks like the rain of fire evened out the playing field," Satan grinned.
Aziraphale didn't dare assess the damage around him.
"If you survive this," Satan groused, "I'll have to ask how a murderous demon like yourself kept his angelic wings."
When Lucifer spoke, he had lost a bit of concentration and Aziraphale was able to lean the points away from any vital areas that could possibly destroy him. He needed to keep the windbag talking.
"Isn't it obvious?" Aziraphale ground out through clenched teeth. He managed a malicious smile. "I'm one of her chosen." The trident scratched and squeaked as it dragged down toward his abdomen again, above the core of his being.
Lucifer barked out a laugh. "Chosen," mocked Lucifer, "chosen to die, perhaps."
"Jealous are we," Aziraphale chuckled hoarsely and grunted from the continued effort. "She's chosen another over you again. And Michael chose God over you. Your own son chose his enemy over you. Face it. No one wants you. You aren't special. Never were." He struggled with his words, but they had the effect he intended.
Satan's hands slipped just enough for Aziraphale to roll out of the way but not before one of the points tore through the side of his armour and taking off a chunk of his corporation.
Satan roared with fury, his eyes aflame with wrathful Hellfire. "I'LL WIPE YOU OUT OF EXISTENCE!"
Aziraphale scrambled backwards toward where his sword laid and tried to stand but Lucifer advanced on him quickly. Adam rushed in front of Aziraphale and splayed his arms wide.
"Stop," cried Adam, "I won't let you-"
Satan cut him off with a backhanded slap that sent him tumbling into the dirt, unconscious.
Lucifer's trident came down upon Aziraphale again, and a flaming sword intercepted. Crowley was fast and ferocious with his attacks, driving Lucifer back. Aziraphale was entranced, gaping at his husband's transformation.
Crowley was gorgeous. His hair had loosened from its plait, but it knew better than to get in his way. The fire-like tresses blew in the wind, always behind him as he advanced on the devil.
Aziraphale was pulled from his stupor when a pair of hands yanked him up to standing.
"You alright?" Gabriel asked, looking at the pool of blood at Aziraphale's feet and the way he held onto his side.
"I have to help him," Aziraphale panted, already in pursuit of the parrying demons.
"Heal yourself," Gabriel commanded, "let us handle it." Beelzebub and Gabriel went to Crowley's aid.
Beelzebub's energy was extremely low, but three against one gave Satan a little trouble. He no longer made it look easy to fend off his opponents and he was driven back, forced to avoid attacks from all angles.
Crowley grinned. It wasn't everyday one got the upper hand over the King of Hell. Crowley pushed onward, stronger and faster. The serpent waited patiently for his moment and was not disappointed.
There , Crowley thought with glee, an opening.
Gabriel and Beelzebub did their best to keep Satan's attention on them so that Crowley might have a chance to bring everything to an end. It was working.
Lucifer changed his strategy and focused on advancing at Beelzebub, but Gabriel was one step ahead. The messenger drove forward, causing Satan to change tactics again. Yes , Gabriel cheered internally. Lucifer swung at Crowley prematurely and-
Hastur's voice broke through the cacophony. "Do it now you useless parasite!"
Gabriel's victorious smile faltered when he saw a blonde woman running towards Crowley with a squirt bottle.
"CROWLEY! BEHIND YOU!" Gabriel bellowed in warning.
Crowley whirled around and froze, his eyes becoming wide and vacant.
Crowley was unable to defend himself against the onslaught of memories flashing through his mind. He knew that woman. Unknowingly and unwillingly, Crowley retreated to a time where the filthy, skinny slave before him helped tortured him in all manner of ways.
He was in his cell. He could smell her foulness. He watched her pull one the numerous leeches from her skin and felt her jam it into his mouth.
This isn't real. This isn't happening. I was, I was fighting. I was. Wasn't I?
Aziraphale... he thought wildly, in pure panic. Wake me up. Wake me...
Aziraphale had healed himself best he could, but his wound was not only of the physical variety. His corporation nearly expired in the process of repairing it and his being pulsated tortuously where Lucifer had struck.
Angel... please wake me up...
Aziraphale zeroed in on Crowley who was standing motionless in the centre of the battle, the echo of his message sending dread straight through him. He ran. I hear you, Crowley!
... angel ...
Aziraphale's heart seized when he caught sight of a slave, raising a squirt bottle. There could be no mistaking what contents laid inside the seemingly innocent plastic container.
"No! Crowley move, please!" Aziraphale wailed. "CROWLEY!"
Aziraphale gathered all of his remaining power and snapped his fingers. The woman instantly vanished, but not before she had squeezed the trigger.
It was too late.
"NO!"
A white wing thrust before Crowley and caught the holy water in its angelic feathers.
Gabriel had saved the demon from a horrible death, but had let his guard down in the process.
Satan struck, his trident stabbing into the meat of Gabriel's back where his wing was attached.
Beelzebub roared and charged recklessly to save Gabriel from another blow, but Satan was faster. He dislodged his weapon, ripping Gabriel's wing off in the process, then plunged it into Beelzebub's head. His demon was dead in an instant, and Gabriel mourned loudly with a wail as he laid motionless on the ground facing his lifeless companion.
It was Gabriel's agonizing scream that snapped Crowley out of it. A dismembered white wing and a dirty squirt bottle laid at Crowley's feet. Hastur dove for the holy water and Crowley used the opportunity to charge forward and drive his flaming sword into Hastur's gut.
There was a moment where they were both stunned and staring at each other before Hastur turned to ash.
A fresh wave of demons crowded around the serpent and his flaming sword. Crowley backed up and took a defensive stance in front of Gabriel, ready for anything.
Satan turned just in time to block Aziraphale's attack. Noticing Aziraphale's weakness, Satan poured all of his power into his next attack. When their weapons clashed Aziraphale's sword cracked in half and clattered to the ground. Aziraphale staggered back, and Satan reached out with his claws, gripping Aziraphale by the throat and bringing him close to his demonic, monstrous face.
"Look around Azirath, you're losing," Lucifer sneered.
After the Hellfire attack, the rebel's numbers had dwindled considerably, and Satan's demons had gained the advantage. Aziraphale looked around in a panic, trying to find some way, any way that this could end without turning to his last resort. He had hoped that Crowley would save him like he always had, but when Aziraphale searched for the familiar copper head, he found Crowley surrounded and outnumbered.
Satan squeezed and dug his claws deeper into Aziraphale's flesh.
Aziraphale stopped struggling as soon as he caught sight of a familiar, faceless Horseman. Death was staring at him from a distance, unbothered by the chaos around him and unnoticed by everyone else.
Crowley heard Aziraphale cry out in pain. He spun around to find him in Satan's clutches once more. "No," he breathed. The husbands made eye contact, and Crowley knew what would happen next. "Don't you dare," Crowley whispered aloud. I can do this. We can win. Don't.
The demons surrounding Crowley rushed at him. Crowley swung his sword desperately, not knowing who he had struck or whether they were dead or not. As he cut through the enemies that kept him from his husband, Aziraphale answered his message.
I love you, my heart.
No , Crowley sent back, slicing through two more bodies.
I always have.
Wait, Aziraphale! Crowley looked up just in time to see his angel pull out the holy water canister from his pocket. Wait! Crowley sobbed and panted as he continued his onslaught, all the while hearing and feeling Aziraphale's love.
Crowley, I need you to know that the happiest moments of my life were the moments I spent with you.
"Aziraphale," Crowley whimpered, tears flowing freely. I'll follow you. It was a promise remade.
Crowley could feel the wistful smile in Aziraphale's message. ' How lucky am I to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.' Thank you, my love.
GOD, PLEASE! Crowley cried out and reached out toward Aziraphale while someone yanked on his hair, dragging him further away from his reason for living.
Time slowed, and the sounds of war faded. The silence was like a roaring ocean in Aziraphale's ears while his hand grasped at the leather pouch at his side, the holiest of holy water in his demonic hand.
Death gave him a slow, slight nod and waited.
Tears flowed freely but silently out of Aziraphale as Satan raised him high into the air, bringing them nose to nose with one another.
"You could have been my best soldier," said Satan. "What a waste." Very deliberately, Satan poured the rest of his power into his trident and breached Aziraphale's armour.
A trumpet sounded in the distance, and the ground began to tremble.
Satan looked around, trying to figure out where it had come from and why.
Satan glared at him, "What has happened?"
Aziraphale couldn't help but chuckle hysterically. "Our reinforcements," he laughed again.
Satan looked around wildly. The field had been overrun with fresh rebel soldiers from different nations, and the immortal children who ruled them. Brian, Pepper, Wensleydale, and even the stupid dog.
"It's over," Aziraphale rasped.
"So it seems," Satan said with a growl. "But you shall not bear witness."
"No," Aziraphale agreed, "I won't. But neither will you."
Raising his hand in the air above them, Lucifer barely had a moment to comprehend what was about to transpire. His eyes widened at the same time as Aziraphale crushed the canister, letting the holy water burst over them both, but not before Satan plunged his trident the rest of the way.
There was screaming. So much screaming. Aziraphale was in pain, and it was like a blazing fire was coursing through his veins, his soul, his very being. The only comfort was that he could hear Satan screaming too. Quickly, the screams ended, and Aziraphale's world turned black.
He was floating, bobbing up and down on the waves of love and wholly blanketed in peace he had not known since his creation. Aziraphale recognized this love. It was the love that had been ripped from him six centuries ago. Swiftly, that love felt like it was ripped from him again. Old scars burst open, and the fire-like pain came back to him in an agonizing rush.
"Aziraphale! Aziraphale! Angel, please come back to me."
With a gasp and a choked cry, Aziraphale jolted awake, his world still covered in darkness.
"Let me see him, let me see him!"
"Don't touch him," Ramiel's voice snapped. "He's covered in holy water. I'm doing the best I can."
Aziraphale's vision began to come in and out. He sighed with relief when he was granted a view of Crowley being held back by Moloch.
Ramiel was trying to heal Aziraphale's spiritual wounds that Satan had left in his wake.
Then Aziraphale realized... he hadn't turned into a puddle of burning goo.
Ramiel smiled down at him, "We've won."
A quick look around himself showed bodies littered everywhere, fiery puddles and piles of ash stretched out as far as his eyes could see. They may have won, but at a great cost.
Aziraphale gazed into his husband's eyes and gave him a sad smile as Crowley's expressions fought between affection and glaring daggers.
"You better survive this, angel, because I will not have your last words to me be a quote from Winnie the fucking Pooh, do you understand me?"
The slightest of amused scoffs escaped Aziraphale, sending him reeling back into the darkness.
AN: Well, now, there ya have it! Now you know why this chapter was so difficult to write. All the back and forth and action and emotion and and and... I'm tired.
ANYWAY, you can rest easy now right? Oh, wait... I guess there's still the matter of who survived and who... didn't. But at least Aziraphale and Crowley are okay... kinda... lol! I've been such an a-hole. But there is only the epilogue left! Anyone want some lemons in it? I kinda do... not sure yet.
ALSO: Hastur's slave in this chapter, that almost killed Crowley, is a character belonging to and created by owlvirus! She is an oc that was inspired by this story and I am over the moon with her! Check her out on DA!
As usual, you can find me on tumblr and Instagram (mordellestories) and you can even find me on discord (mordelle#9350).
Please comment and tell me what you thought of the chapter! It will keep me sane! Have a lovely week!