Chapter 1: The First War
Aziraphale had never been in a battlefield before. He had sincerely hoped that learning how to properly hold a sword would be an ability he'd never be obligated to use in a real do-or-die situation. If he was honest with himself, the angel rather enjoyed protecting things in a more… metaphorical way. He was pretty good at it, actually. Under a proper situation, the angel had a way with words. He could be pretty convincing when he wanted to in a verbal argument. Unfortunately, since Lucifer and his followers rebelled against God, there hadn't been a place for any civilized discussion in a long time. The risks were way higher, and nobody in either Heaven or Hell seemed to have any intentions of dropping their weapons and try to sort things out speaking, even though this was the smartest way of sorting out some sort of agreement in the Principality's opinion. It would be indeed more civilized than what he was witnessing in the moment anyway.
Violent screams could be heard everywhere as angels fought against creatures that had been once like them. Fallen angels were, after all, angels. But they are not like us, look at their monstrous eyes. He remembered the words of several Powers echoing inside of his mind before he began fighting. Aziraphale refused to confess that he had never tried as hard as he had on avoiding taking a part of this war. He wasn't sure about what to expect, but it did look crueler than he could've ever imagined. There were no angels or demons, but blood. Pain. Shrieks. Darkness. The angel could sense it in every possible way. He could feel it as Michael stabbed a black-haired demon in the back, melting them into a black pond instantly; he could smell it in the several injuries Uriel had across their face and could see it in the river of blood that was staining his pale feet. It shook him as another Principality had its head ripped off by a strange creature with black eyes that suddenly noticed him.
The demon swayed his teeth at him. Not truly interested, the Principality simply cut his feet. It wasn't a deadly injury, but it was enough of a distraction to give him some time away from the battle. His blue eyes were desperately trying to find a hiding place. Scratch that. He needed a thinking place: somewhere peaceful to catch his breath and shut his anxious mind up. The angel hated his lousy mind sometimes. He had a disability to control his thoughts, which was incredibly frustrating due to the fact that he just couldn't act properly when his mind began to ramble.
He slowly started to walk away from the battle, leaving both angels and demons behind, as he finally depicted a small aperture in one of the sides of the battlefield. It was some sort of small aperture that led to a cave. The angel quickly glanced inside: it appeared to be empty. He sighed relieved before getting inside.
Aziraphale let his sword on the ground as soon as he got inside, feeling a big weight leaving his shoulders as he let go of his flaming sword handle, the sound of it falling to the ground resounding in the place. The cave's floor felt wet under his bare feet, a weird scent of something -that he'd then realize it was dirt- was intoxicating the air but, instead of making him freak out, it somehow calmed the distressed angel out. Without thinking it through, he collapsed to the ground, approaching his legs to his chest. Aziraphale didn't really understand why, but staying in that position used to help him relax. He looked up once before sinking his head between his knees and he realized little light was entering the cave, reason why it was quite dark inside. The darkness was something almost every angel avoided. In that moment, Aziraphale truly wished for nothing more than the darkness to embrace him completely. He felt like he wasn't facing a war against the rebels, but against his own conscience. On one hand, the Principality was a trained soldier who was doing the right thing by protecting Heaven and his siblings from those treacherous creatures. On the other hand, he was also destroying the lives of hundreds of beings who didn't even get a second chance to redeem themselves. They were angels once, if they had the ability of turning bad… then they must also contain the cure to turn good again, didn't they? Oh, God, he was truly feeling quite exhausted and didn't really enjoy the implications of finding a legal vacuum in Heaven's Holy Laws. But then again, angels were creatures of kindness and love, meant to represent God's Love for every creature in existence… and they were still killing demons mercilessly.
It was quite dark inside the cave, although the angel was capable of seeing. Well, he was capable of seeing things that were close to him. In fact, the distressed angel hadn't even sensed a small creature lurking in the shadows, staring at him with wide opened yellow eyes concernedly.
The creature had been hiding in that cave for at least a few weeks now, bathing in the darkness, enjoying it, as he waited for the war to cease. No angel or demon had showed any interest in stopping their fight. Well, no one except himself. So, it made perfect sense for him to resolve to stay out of the way. After all, Lucifer was the one who insisted on angels disobeying orders, right? Then, he'd probably feel quite proud of this demon who decided to disobey an order from Lucifer himself.
No one had even noticed his absence. It was the weirdest of feelings actually. One part of him felt actually quite hurt at noticing how little his new family cared about him while another side was filled with relief. After all, this was the proof he needed to realize that no one cared about what he did in Hell, so he was free to do almost anything -except, of course, something remarkable stupid as, I don't know, helping Heaven or an angel-. Then, deep down, there was the small hope that everyone assumed he had died and, as the thought of how easier everything would be if he was actually dead kept on approaching his mind, he would shut his thoughts with a hiss.
As long as no one saw him, he'd be fine. But of course God had decided to punish him by making a fucking angel enter the cave so unexpectedly fast that it almost made the demon shriek.
At first, the demon -Crawly was his given name by the way- thought that the war had ended and angels were sent to get rid of all the demons that were left. Crawly's demon shape was a snake; of course any angel with half a mind could sense him kilometers away. So, he quickly dipped harder into the darkness.
But then the angel did something even more unexpected: he let go of his sword. Crawly's head titled to the side curiously. He frowned and tried to focus on the outside of the cave. The sound of crashing metal could still be heard there. The demon sighed as he realized the war was far from ending and that the angel couldn't possibly know that he was there. He let his only weapon fall to the ground, for Satan's sake. He didn't seem to be a fit to be in a war, let alone to be holding a weapon.
The angel gave two steps inside the cave before sitting down and pressing his knees against his chest. He muttered something, probably talking to himself as it didn't sound as a life threat. Crawly stared at him, his initial interest being replaced by disappointment. It simply was a coward little angel who was hiding from the battle. Of course, he was hiding himself, but it was more of a 'show my disagreement towards these bitches' kind of thing than hiding in order to 'save my own ass because I'm weak as fuck' kind of thing. Angels were always so hypocrite. Heaven was too. Sometimes, when he didn't miss his white wings or golden eyes, he was even glad of having ditched Heaven. Sure, Hell sucked too, but at least no one lied about it.
The angel dipped his head inside of his knees as he kept mumbling incomprehensible words to himself non-stop. The demon's small span of attention was getting filled by that time, so he just decided to let the angel be. He didn't seem much of a threat and fighting him would bring too much unwanted attention. Before leaving, he gave the pathetic angel a last gaze. He would've chuckled if it wasn't because of the fact that snakes couldn't chuckle. It was just too much to bear, a fucking angel was cowardly hiding under his noses, and he hadn't even sensed him! Oh, for Satan, he couldn't believe he once was worried about him. He even let his only weapon on-
Crawly's yellow eyes got wider as he recognized the sword: it was a Principality sword. And not any sword: it was a flaming sword. He had only heard rumors about the existence of that sword. Its use was reserved only to the best of the angels. He looked up at the poor excuse of an angel before him. Perhaps he was being shallow, but that angel didn't seem like something out of the ordinary. To be honest, he didn't even have gold on his body, or any trace of holiness in his skin, which was a pretty common trade for angels. He was just so… bland. Dressed with a plain white robe, barefoot and not even cleaning the dirt out of his blond hair. Having that dull being as the flaming sword bearer was probably a Heaven's mistake. They had made even worse mistakes in the past so it wasn't even surprising.
As he started moving away from the angel, the thought crossed his mind. It was almost like an inner voice. You should kill him. The demon stopped on his track. Take the sword, Hell will surely appreciate it. He had killed tons of angels by that time, it wouldn't even be the first or last time he'd murder one. Taking advantage of his snake form, he wouldn't even have to fight him. He could slither slowly until he got to his neck. One small bite would be enough to bring death to the angel. Crawly inspected the blond being in front of him once more: his head was still sank-in between his legs, shaking like a feather, though the demon couldn't really sense fear inside of him. Kill him; he's a threat for us. He should kill the fearlessly afraid angel before he'd sensed him. He will kill you if you don't.
Crawly started to slither as silently as he could. He was well aware of the fact that angels were really sensitive beings, so he didn't want to tempt his luck. He was fortunate enough to have gotten this far already. Circling the borders of the cave, Crawly got closer to his prey with his fangs trying to control themselves before the moment to strike. His golden eyes narrowed even further, his full concentration was put on the angel. You'd be praised by killing him. A silent smirk was planted on the demon's heart. This was just too easy. Perhaps too easy. A small flash of doubt crossed his insides. He couldn't risk his life; he had to act fast before anyone realized it. One bite should be enough. The angel wouldn't even scream. He'd just accept death silently. What could go wrong? Kill him. Crawly murdered too many angels to even remember it… why… why would Hell want this one dead so much?
As he got closer to the angel's body, he started to listen to his muffled voice. He still wasn't able to understand his words completely, but his voice seemed… familiar? Kill him. Why? Was it because of the sword or… or was there something else? Crawly's thirst for blood began to calm down, even though he truly wished it hadn't. It was stronger than him. Crawly had always found questioning way more entertaining than doing evil deeds. Sure, they were fun but also repetitive and patronizing. Plus, killing this harmless angel just felt...
"Why does it feel so wrong?" the muffled voice of the angel suddenly said almost reading Crawly's mind without even knowing it.
The demon stared shocked. His heart started drumming extremely fast for no reason. He stood there, a few inches away from the angel's neck, completely frozen. His questions were replaced by one huge statement: the angel questioned the war. It wasn't fear, as he once thought. It was disgust, confusion and concern. It stabbed the serpent in more than one way. He was hiding in the cave because he also disagreed with the current state of Heaven and Hell. The voice that kept ordering Crawly disappeared all of a sudden and he felt a strange sensation of relief that made him get too close to the angel's skin, finally touching him.
Aziraphale stopped his mourning with a jump. He stood up as fast as he could before finally giving a glance to what had touched him. Before him stood a long black and red snake with two amber bright eyes that pierced his soul by any passing second. It didn't take him long to realize that the being was indeed a demon. He had assumed the place was empty too fast. To be honest, he hadn't properly checked in the first place, too busy to quiet his own mind to even care about his surroundings at all.
The demon looked as surprised as him, which made him startle even more. The snake had his mouth opened, revealing two fangs that were dripping with venom. Almost as a reflex act, the angel approached his right hand to his neck as the whole gravity of the situation started to kick in. He didn't feel anything out of the ordinary with his corporation, but he wasn't familiar with serpents or demons, their attacks could be as deadly as silent. Or at least that's what Heaven kept on telling them. Demons are not trustworthy, they betrayed God after all. Aziraphale stared at his hand after touching his neck. It was completely empty, no marks of blood or pain or dropping skin or anything that could possibly mean danger.
The blonde angel stared at his companion. The demon was just… staring at him, as if he had so many things to say that he just didn't know how to start. Was he supposed to… talk to him? It would be rude not to in any typical situation. But this was not a typical situation. His face became paler as he took a step back. His mind had suddenly sending him a clear message: run. It was dangerous to stay in a closeted dark space with a demon. He was pretty sure there was even a rule against that in some of the training they had had before he was sent to the war. Demons knew their way in the dark. It didn't take him long to decide that it was the best for everyone if he just left as if nothing had happened.
Heaven didn't need to know the details, of course. He still remembered that frightful day in which Michael alongside some Powers were pointing out the different reasons why demons should be murdered instantly. 'Wouldn't… thwart them be more effective?' Aziraphale had once dared to ask. He wasn't too eager at realizing that absolutely every single angel in the room had suddenly turned to him astonished. Their eyes weren't that much full of love as they once used to be, being replaced instead by something darker. Call it what you want, hatred, wrath, vengeance… and it deeply ached him, because that look was the only thing Aziraphale was starting to truly hate. And it was just… everywhere. Everyone had it. The differences he once expected to see so clearly between angels and demons became too blurry in the battlefield. All of their eyes were filled with that darkness.
A quick thought flashed the angel's mind, making him frown a little. He then turned to see the demon in front of him. His yellow eyes were something he had never seen before. Or had he? A small headache prevented him to press the thought much further. The important thing about his eyes though, was the fact that they shined through and through. They were lively, curious, a bit malicious maybe, but still bright. There was no darkness in his snake-shaped eyes. The demon in front of him lacked the darkness that every other single angel in Heaven had.
After a long awkward silence, the demon finally shifted into a more angelical form. He was quite different from Aziraphale, taller, with a darker skin and long red hair that passed his shoulder's line. He had also spread his wings, which were as dark as the caves' shadows. His eyes remained the same though, and were still staring at him as if he was some sort of new species he was keen to discover. He kept on staring, making the angel fiddle with his fingers nervously. The demon then… smirked at him? "What feels wrong?" he asked finally, clear amusement in his voice.
Aziraphale wished he had said something clever. Something that would definitely make his adversary respect him or at least something to shut that triumphant smirk up. Unfortunately, his talent with words was as messed up as his mind at the moment. "Uh… I beg your pardon?"
The demon rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "You asked why it felt wrong. What were you talking about?"
The angel took a few steps back and covered his mouth with his hands in horror. The demon had listened to his doubts. The demon saw him doubting. No one was supposed to know that, he had his already paranoid mind to take care of it. That was probably the reason why he didn't kill him: the demon saw an opportunity to make an angel fall. "I didn't say that" he denied it automatically.
Crawly wide opened his eyes. Did he just… lie to him? Was that even allowed?
Upon seeing the shock in the demon's eyes, Aziraphale looked down ashamed. "I don't want to talk about it" he managed to say so softly that Crawly unconsciously made a step forward to him. He'd never admit it -well, at least not for a few millennia-, but the thought of comforting the angel crossed his mind. In fact, no, it didn't cross his mind, it just fucking stated there. It seemed like the most natural thing in the Universe to do. "What are you doing?" the angel asked confused at his recent approaching.
Not ready for answering, Crawly's mouth shut up too violently. He needed to answer that question. Well, he didn't really. But he wanted to. Not so much for the angel, but for himself too. What kind of fucked up demon goes after an angel just because he seemed to need comfort? No. A demon would not do that. A demon would…
Kill him.
There it was again. And Crawly finally understood. That angel had brought down walls he had built up since the very first existence of the stars. Crawly couldn't recall much about being an angel -another great consequence of falling-, but he did remember feeling insecure, left out… feeling different from the rest. So, he started to distance himself from his supposed brothers, having admittedly given up on that whole 'angels love everything with their entire heart' thing -also, he couldn't recall any other angel actually loving-.
The blonde angel in front of him made him drop that self-put distance in less than a heartbeat. Crawly quickly realized he had underestimated him: that angel was the most dangerous being he had ever encountered because he managed to look through him. He'll kill you given the chance. The demon looked down at the angel's empty hands and, before he could have second thoughts on the matter, he grabbed the flaming sword.
Even as a shadow covered his face, Crawly could see how the angel stared at him in pure terror. Yes. That's how he was supposed to look at him. He's not like you. He's never going to understand you.
Aziraphale could feel tears in his eyes as the light in the demon's eyes banished being replaced with such darkness he actually knew he was going to die. He was not meant to live in war anyways. He let out a sad sight irritated. "I hate this war" he muttered under his breath as Crawly started to wield the sword to him.
Crack.
They both stopped their internal and external crisis as they looked down at the ground. Another crack was enough for them to realize that they ground was literally breaking under their feet. And, before they could even try to run away, the ground opened in half, making both of them fall down.
Aziraphale opened an eye. His head hurt and his body too, but all in all, he was in quite a decent state for his corporation. The angel slowly sat on the ground and tried to recall what exactly had happened. Flashes of a demon with his sword and the ground opening crossed his mind. He touched his forehead, seeking comfort. Right… The demon almost killed him, he thought bitterly. It wasn't unexpected at all. It was just… disappointing to be honest. He could've sworn to God that there was something different about that demon. Not that he cared, of course. It was just… ugh… he even felt… familiar. Was that even possible? Also, why couldn't-
He almost shrieked at the touch of cold skin against his hand. He had forgotten about the fact that he had fallen alongside the demon. God, that sounded wrong. He looked down and guilt stung him as he felt relieved to find the demon still unconscious laying by his side. He wasn't glad that his fiend had been knocked out, of course. He just was… glad that he wasn't able to kill him basically. The angel tried to comfort himself by reassuring that the demon would've felt the same way if their roles were reversed.
As softly as he could in order not to wake the demon up, Aziraphale stood up, took his sword -that had fallen with them too- and started to walk away. Though, much to the angel's dismay, they were in a cave that was even deeper than the one they were in before with no visible way out. Would a miracle be considered too frivolous in a do-or-die situation? The Principality really couldn't tell why, but he had never seen any angel use their powers to beat the demons. Was it some kind of unspoken rule that they should fight as physically as possible? It was rather mundane if you stopped to think about it.
The demon made a slow movement all of a sudden, making the angel stand still in his place. Shyly, the angel looked over his shoulder, not knowing what he actually wanted out of this situation. If the demon woke up, he'd be dead. If the demon didn't wake up and die, he'd feel guilty till the end of his days.
The demon hadn't woken up, in fact, he seemed to have stopped breathing making Aziraphale's moral crisis grew another wrinkle in his face. The angel didn't want the demon to die, even though the demon clearly felt the opposite about him. The thing was… his eyes… they shined with faith. It didn't truly matter if that faith was in God really. As long as he had faith in something, then it was worth it.
If he was facing the music, Aziraphale would've admitted that the thing he was more afraid of was losing that light himself. The angel had certain needs regarding hope and love that he'd never been truly capable of fully filling. It's been a while since he felt… hopeful about something. Quite a while actually, though he couldn't recall when. Probably before Lucifer and his followers fell.
"Oh, Lord…" he muttered before biting his lips nervously.
Making a choice mentally didn't make it any easier in the outside, but he did what he could. Firstly, he put the sword in a side as far as possible of the demon. Then, he approximated the demon as quietly as he could, trying not to make any sudden moves as he fiddled with his fingers anxiously.
The angel got as close as he could from the demon. Aziraphale had never seen a demon from so close. Of course, he knew what they ought to look like. Honesty had always been a Heaven's virtue after all, so the Principality was well aware of how fallen angels were supposed to look like. Their eyes changed, their wings burned, and they were utterly repulsing, showing their inner evilness as a reminder of what would happen if you let yourself be blinded by evil.
The blonde angel squatted next to his supposed enemy. And, before he could realize what he was doing, he smiled. Aziraphale didn't honestly understand why, but staring at him was something delightful. Moreover the fact that the demon seemed extremely peaceful under the effects of unconsciousness, Aziraphale's heart felt a little warmer with every little discovery of something they had in common. They weren't so different, actually. At least not as different as Heaven signaled them to be. They both had two legs, two arms, a face, a nose, two eyes, a mouth… of course, the demon's eyes weren't as heavenly as Gabriel's or Michael's, but they were still something lovely. He felt his face somehow… warmer? Before looking up. Their wings weren't that much different either. Sure, the demon's ones were black but they still had feathers and seemed to be pretty soft and well-groomed. The rest of the differences they had were merely superficial, the kind of differences everybody in the Universe had. The demon's body was thinner than his, for example, his sharp cheekbones were definitely something you couldn't miss out on. Also, he had a bright red long hair that reminded Aziraphale of simpler times, when fire was just a small warm flame that just threatened to hurt you rather than destroying you.
As he moved a lock of hair out of his face carefully, the angel found another difference. Just by his right ear, the demon had a black snake mark. Not only that, but it also seemed that it had remains of blood in its borders. Aziraphale frowned and, almost unconsciously, extended his hand to touch the mark. As soon as his hand was a few centimeters about it, his suspicions were confirmed: it was an injury. He couldn't sense the way it had been made -probably something from Hell- but it did bothered the angel. Demons are monsters, they even enjoy physical pain, he could recall many angels stating not long ago, conveniently a few days before the war stroke. The angel had wondered since that moment if that was completely true. Without a second thought, he touched the injury, pressing it tightly enough. The demon flinched making the angel frown. It actually hurt him, it wasn't so deep either. Perhaps a miracle could heal him, though the mark would remain like a scar.
Lost in thoughts, Aziraphale didn't notice Crawly's wide amber eyes opening shockingly at the sudden feeling of warmth expanding through his face. In a dramatic fashion, he sat up staring face to face with the angel he had just tried to murder. He panicked as he realized the angel was holding his face. An angel touch could burn a demon, everybody in Hell knew that.
The demon quickly stood up, his eyes still staring in shock at the angel. He looked at the sides, slowly putting two and two together before remembering how they ended up there. He then proceeded to touch the warm place the angel's hand had left in his right cheek. It remained there, but it wasn't deadly yet luckily. He had stopped the angel just in time.
Aziraphale stood up too. The demon's eyes had that light again and he thought for a moment that everything would turn out okay. But then the demon shot him a glare with the deepest darkness he had ever sensed in anyone before. "What are you doing?!" he exclaimed, anger vibrating every single thread inside of him.
Aziraphale suddenly wondered how someone could have so much light and darkness at the same time, but let the question inside his mind. "You're hurt" he simply pointed out, trying not to sound too concerned over it.
The light returned into the demon's eyes. Fuck. The angel truly sounded worried. He is not; he just wants to prove his side is right. The red-haired being glared at him again, though the light was still there. "Well, fuck yeah I am! May I remind you that I have just fucking fell off! And hit my head against the ground quite strongly, if you haven't noticed!" he hissed, pronouncing each 's' a little more than necessary. He was straight up furious, screaming like a mad man… and the angel just stared at him unaltered. "Has Heaven finally lost its little common sense it had left, angel?!" he insulted angrily, pronouncing the word 'angel' as if it was the most poisonous venom in the entire Universe.
The angel simply shook his head as he stood up. "Don't talk like that" he said to him softly, not really taking it as an insult, but rather worried about what Heaven could do to the demon if they heard him. At realizing this weird assumption, Crawly let a little chuckle out and looked down, thinking to himself. It wasn't like he could fall a second time.
The demon's small smirk quickly left his face as he looked up to notice that the angel was walking to the direction where he was. Crawly swallowed hard and took a step back as the angel made one forward. He expected his blond companion to stop by that time, but he just kept on walking closer to him as the demon kept on moving backwards. Unfortunately, he was too busy staring astonished at the angel that he forgot that they were inside a small cave and so, before he could even realized it; he hit his back against a wall. His first thought was to try to find the sword, but as he desperately looked out for it, he realized that it was way too far away from him. The demon looked down embarrassed: there was no way out. Perhaps the angel would have mercy on him by killing him fast. Maybe if he was taken as a prisoner he could find a way out, even finding out more information about Heaven to bring back to Hell.
Once Aziraphale was closer enough to touch, Crawly decided to look up at the angel who had just beat him in his own game. His jaw almost dropped at the sight of two blue eyes that shined brighter than Hellfire and were more intoxicating than Holy Water. They weren't filled with anger, vengeance or hatred as he was used to see, but with kindness. Crawly felt the angel's hand on his cheek again and he truly didn't care. Those eyes were the most peaceful sight he had seen since he last looked up at the stars. He'd be happy dying like this, staring at something as beautiful as the stars for the last time.
Aziraphale stared at Crawly's eyes too. Why had he found them so unsettling in the first place? To be honest, they were the only thing that could calm his anxious mind as he was healing a demon. Principalities were meant to fight in wars, not to heal their enemies. They were the last kind of angel to show this type of compassion… but… angels were supposed to do that, right? They were supposed to show love to every single being in existence. The only reason why Heaven was fighting was because they were protecting their home, right? Even though this particular demon didn't seem like a threat at all. He could feel himself growing tense as the demon was slowly relaxing.
Crawly closed his eyes, expecting his end… though by the time the angel let go of his face, he realized it never came. Sure, the angel's hands were still warm but they never actually burned him. They didn't even hurt; it was a typical kind of warmth. A harmless kind of warmth, similar to the one he was feeling in his lower parts. As a matter of fact, he felt… no pain at all.
The demon wide opened his eyes and touched his serpent mark. It wasn't bleeding anymore. Nothing was bleeding or burning anymore. It went down on him. Like a lead balloon. "You healed me" Crawly stated astonished.
"You're welcome" the angel simply answered, as if that was something any other angel in his place would've done, and then turned his back on him and started to walk away, looking for a way out.
A new kind of pain crossed Crawly's heart again as the angel moved away from him. The demon didn't understand why, but he just decided to follow the blue-eyed fool who just did the only thing that you couldn't do in war: helping the enemy. He just couldn't get over the idea of an angel showing genuine affection and kindness to him. Scratch that. He just couldn't get over the idea of someone showing genuine affection and kindness to him. He wondered if he had ever felt that, even back in Heaven. A small headache made him give up on trying before coming to the conclusion that probably not. The demon's eyes diluted as he realized there was nothing he wanted more in that moment than the angel to get close to him again. To talk to him again. To touch him again.
"I'm assuming you're not going to kill me then" the demon said, trying poorly to begin some kind of conversation. If losing the war assured him that he would meet that angel again, he'd just handle over his rendition.
"Oh" Aziraphale was taken aback by that. He stared at the ground thoughtfully. "I don't really have a reason to kill you. That is, if you don't try to kill me first"
The demon chuckled. "So, that's your plan? Not killing any demon unless they attack you?" he mocked. "Then, you'll be probably dead by tomorrow, angel" there was no real malice behind that statement. In fact, it had been probably the first time since he fell in which he said the word 'angel' with no hatred at all. It suddenly crossed his mind that, if all the angels were like this, then the word 'angel' could actually be worth it.
Finally, Aziraphale came across a side of the cave that had an aperture big enough for both of them to go out. He looked to the other side: the battle still continued. "Angels aren't supposed to kill… anything" he muttered as he watched half his brothers bleed in the hands of the demons, and the other half murdering demons themselves. In some way, it was even gloomier after meeting a demon who wasn't actually a reincarnation of evil itself. Maybe many of the demons being murdered without having a second chance were like that too.
Crawly stared at the battle too. Although he had new thoughts on the matter, nothing had changed for the demons and the angels who were still giving their lives on the battlefield. He shrugged and looked back at the angel beside him. The light in his eyes was darkening and his skin seemed paler all of a sudden.
"I don't like this more than you do, you know?" Later on, Crawly would torture himself wondering why he had said that. He never had any reason to excuse himself, let alone now that he was literally a demon, and let alone to a fucking angel. But in the moment, it did seem like the right choice of words. Plus, the angel did seem less sad. Not that Crawly cared about it, of course.
"I supposed you wouldn't" the blond angel weakly smiled at him.
To say that Crawly didn't know how to react to that smile would be a lie. He did react back then. The demon simply nodded to him and abandoned the cave, leaving the angel and all his positive thoughts about Heaven behind. As soon as he came across another angel, the demon quickly realized that he wouldn't be that lucky ever again, so he kept on fighting as if nothing really mattered.
It wasn't until the battle ended, a few days later, that he found himself thinking about that weird angel that healed him and smiled at him as if he was still an angel. Hell had lost, but another war was coming -in 6000 years though-, but the idea of the existence of at least an angel worthy of living was eating him alive. What if he had been right? What if the angel had been killed the next day? What if another demon found him in that cave and murdered him in a moment of weakness? Crawly would never forgive himself if that had happened.
'I supposed you wouldn't'. Those words didn't have a direct effect on Crawly. He let them be, let them just pass by him as if they didn't mean anything, but they slowly began to consume him until the matter at hand was unbearable.
The thing was, just as that angel was different, that experience also showed Crawly something he had wanted to ignore for a long time: he was also different himself. Any other demon would've seen that as a perfect opportunity to murder the angel. Anyone in Hell would've loved to have a chance like that. It hurt him to realize that anybody would've killed the angel and made fun of his kindness later on. Not only that, but that angel was a Principality, and anybody capable of destroying one was worthy of praising in Hell. Instead of 6000 of peace and a promotion, Crawly kept that encounter close to his heart. It was a little secret that filled him with the peaceful hope that perhaps Heaven did deserve to win after all, because they were better. Also, a deep part of him was hoping to meet that angel again, though he probably wouldn't talk to him or show any sign of kindness. After all, Hell did lose: there was no reason for him to be nice anymore.
Crawly almost shrieked in surprise when he saw the same angel a few months later, when he got the job of making trouble in the Garden of Eden. The warmth came back and he felt too relieved to see him alive that he was starting to seriously worry about his actual situation. He had seen the way the rest of the demons looked at the angels after the war. Their eyes were filled with even more hatred than before. Demons hated every little single thing about angels with their entire essence. To be honest, Crawly simply didn't give a fuck about them. He had chosen Hell for some reason; he truly believed Heaven was some sort of Hell façade. Where other demons had envy, Crawly just shrugged and hoped to find a new thing to do to distract his active mind.
But when the blue-eyed angel that was in charge of guarding the Eastern Gate came into the matter, well, he was pretty much… a mess. The demon simply was amazed by every little thing the angel did. The way he cared about the different creatures in Eden, as he truly cared about them, not as he was just some kind of automatic fighter who could only stand in a war position. The angel smiled with genuine interest every time a squirrel would pass by him, he would gently pet a deer and feed him if necessarily with his bright eyes full of... love. That was it. That angel truly loved everything, with every little fiber of his body. And Crawly couldn't get sick of it. He adored it.
This behavior wasn't something Crawly was proud of, but it wasn't until the fifth day since Adam and Eve had arrived to the garden that Crawly realized that perhaps that little obsession with the blue-eyed angel was getting out of hand.
Crawly was hiding inside of a hollow tree, staring at the Garden in the darkness, as he had been doing for the last few days. No one had seen him yet and he was trying really hard not to freak out over the fact that he didn't have an evil plan in mind yet.
Adam and Eve were sat side by side smiling brightly at each other. This wasn't something new. They had been acting like that since they first met, though Crawly couldn't completely understand why. Humans were too weird. They were just… eh… bland. No powers, no immortality, not really good or bad either. Why the fuck were they so important to God in the first place?
Crawly rolled his eyes at them as they shared a laugh. Then, Adam slowly extended a hand up to Eve's cheek. The snake's curiosity suddenly kicked in and he started to lean in closer to the small aperture in the tree that allowed him to watch them. Eve seemed a little confused at that, she first clinched away actually. But Adam's hand was firm and Eve slowly leaned into him. The memory of the angel holding his face in the exact same way as Adam was holding Eve's made Crawly gasp. He wanted to look away from them, wanted that warm feeling inside of him to stop, but as he looked up he was astonished to find the blue-eyed angel staring at the humans with the same shock. As if it wasn't terrifying enough, Adam and Eve got even closer to each other, crushing each other's lips.
As Crawly's imaginative mind came up with the image of the angel and himself crushing each other's lips, Crawly decided that he just couldn't bare it anymore and quickly went back to Hell.
It was easy to realize that something was… off. Something wasn't normal. Demons do not daydream about touching an angel's lips. Let alone, feel… things that weren't negative about it. In fact, demons dreamt about tearing angels' limbs one by one. Moreover that, this was the second time they both were sent to basically oppose each other, and instead of hating his obvious nemesis, he just wanted to spend another evening stuck in a cave and staring at his blue eyes before crushing his lips against him. It was suffocating. He didn't even know what kissing was and he wanted to try it the next time he could talk to the angel.
Hastur noticed his presence and stared at him with his usual disgust. Crawly was too tired for that usual shit. He needed to know something before he could even fulfill his daily report on the Garden of Eden. "What's the name of that angel?" the demon asked suddenly without even hesitating.
Hastur looked openly confused at that question. "Angel?"
"Yeah, the blond one. The one in charge of guarding the Eastern Gate" Crawly continued, ignoring the curious eyes of Hastur inspecting him.
"Why do you wanna know? Thinking about killing him?"
The blood in Crawly's body freeze all of a sudden. 'Never' he wanted to answer, but he couldn't. He couldn't be honest with Hell, that's something he had learned a long time ago. He couldn't be honest with anyone. "I don't know, just in case he doesn't let me work, I'd like to know his name. That scares angels" Bullshit. He just wanted to put a name to that face he kept thinking about. Why couldn't he just say it? Why wouldn't he mind his own business?
"That's the Principality. Aziraphale. He's the angel meant to thwart you"
Crawly resisted a chuckle before leaving Hastur's side. He had heard of that before. Some angels and demons were literally meant to be each other's opposites. After the War, the rumor of some angels exclusively working against some demons had been expending in Hell. Crawly didn't use to believe it, but if any angel was meant to be his opponent, he could've bet it was going to be Aziraphale.
He stopped in his track. Aziraphale. It fit him. And also… it was somehow familiar? Aziraphale. It sounded almost as heavenly as his blue eyes and his blonde hair. Fuck. He needed to get his job with the Garden of Eden over as soon as he could. The inexplicable need of talking to him again was becoming increasingly unbearable as the days went by.
By the seventh day, Crawly was already done with his job. It only took them one bite. Literally. He convinced the humans to take a bite of an apple tree that was forbidden. It was a little bit unsettling how well thought-out his existence was. He crawled his way through Heaven, turned into a biting snake and ended up creating the original sin by getting the humans to bite an apple as red as his hair.
He hated the idea, though. The thought of having his entire existence planned out to be just a sinner snake was so upsetting he stopped hiding from Aziraphale. It didn't matter if the angel didn't even remember him. He needed… some sort of… comfort right now.
Aziraphale was staring at the two distant figures of Adam and Eve from above the Eastern Gate. He had just given away his flaming sword to the humans. Oh, God, he had just given away his flaming sword to humans. The idea of being a pretty bad angel had started to kick in since he healed a demon in the battlefield some months ago. He was afraid to confirm it as he decided to give his sword away. Also, he hadn't even seen the supposed demon that was capable of getting inside of the Garden and tempting the humans. The angel wondered how his adversary was. Either way, they were clever and despicable.
You could imagine the angel's face as he saw the snake he had healed in the middle of the war slither and turn into his more angelic form beside him. Aziraphale inspected him a few times, but there was no doubt that he was the same demon he had met in the war. There was also no doubt that he had been indeed the demon responsible for the whole apple fiasco. The Principality looked away, a little ashamed to think that he had had the opportunity to kill him but decided to heal him instead.
He wasn't good at his job as an angel indeed.
"Well, that went down like a lead balloon" Crawly said trying to sound as little interested in the angel as possible.
Aziraphale had no idea about what the demon was talking about. But he didn't have any intention of looking like a fool again, so he just smiled at him and nodded. But then, he frowned, realizing that perhaps it was important to actually be in the same level as the demon. "Sorry, what was that?"
The demon sighed. "I said that went down like a lead balloon" he repeated, but with a calmer voice, trying to pronounce the words correctly and without any hiss. The angel seemed a little different than last time. He seemed a bit… upset. Right, Crawly remembered that he had basically ruined his only job since he was sent to Earth.
So, Crawly kept on speaking about how he thought that banishing Adam and Eve was an exaggeration or, even worse, it was what God actually wanted all along. He wasn't usually so sincere but Aziraphale had showed to doubt as much as he did about the 'Great Plan'. One would think that demons actually doubted God's intentions as well but no. Since they fell the only thing on their mind has been doing evil deeds out of wrath or envy or greed. They didn't seek comprehension; they just wanted to prove themselves, to get revenge of Heaven.
Aziraphale listened to his demon adversary with clear attention. Deep down, he knew the demon had a point. He wouldn't admit it out loud though. After all, the demon had literally infiltrated in the garden, tempted the humans and caused their exile. Not even an angel would try to keep on chatting with that specific demon. The angel then decided to make Heaven proud as he began to explain the ineffable plan to his acquaintance. He was so emerged in finding the right words, in proclaiming how the ineffable plan was not meant for anybody moreover God herself to understand, that he didn't notice the confused stare that Crawly -he had finally learned the demon's name- shot at him.
"Didn't you have a flaming sword?" Crawly intrigued all of a sudden making the angel stammer. Aziraphale truly disliked the idea of showing his incompetence to that demon again. He tried to shrug it off, to shake his head, as if it didn't really matter but the demon insisted. "You did, it was flaming like anything. What happened to it?"
The angel refused to meet the demon's eyes. He refused to give him another reason for them to shine ever again. So, he kept hesitating.
"Lost it already, haven't you?"
That was quite enough. Of course, Aziraphale wasn't the best angel but even he couldn't be that irresponsible. For all that is worth, giving his sword to the humans was a deliberate choice he made on his own. He knew it wasn't what he was ought to do, but he knew that if he was Adam, he'd be grateful for eternity.
"I gave it away…" the angel mumbled.
Crawly's façade of little interest in the blue-eyed angel dropped with four words. He couldn't help himself but grin as an idiot. "You what?!"
"I GAVE IT AWAY!" Aziraphale exclaimed in clear panic before he frantically started to give the red-haired demon by his side different reasons why he had done so.
Crawly stared at the angel, his grin untouched. Even though he wasn't so used to blinking, he blinked once slowly, as a reminder of the fact that it was happening. It was incredible, worth worshipping to be honest. Aziraphale wasn't only kind out of pity, as he once suspected. But he was also kind to everyone in every way. Love guided his actions rather than blind faith or obedience. The burning warmth started to grow in his stomach as the angel kept on rambling. Said angel seemed too tense to notice the way the demon was looking at him, though.
"I do hope I didn't do the wrong thing" Aziraphale ended up saying, concern filling up his voice. He sounded a little scared too. Not for himself though, and that made Crawly admire him even more.
There it was again. The inexplicable need to comfort the angel's insecurities appeared so fast that no inner voice could've stopped it. "Oh, you're an angel. I don't think you can do the wrong thing".
Aziraphale smiled so brightly that he was eradiating light, putting the sun into shame. Crawly couldn't even regret having said something so shamelessly kind because the angel's face full of happiness was worth it. It was the first time he saw the angel smiling in that way. Or not. An image of the same Aziraphale smiling at him appeared in his mind. It was almost the same situation, except for the background. He was in Heaven.
Crawly blinked a few times and tried to ignore that weird thought. Many millennia later he'd said it was a déjà vu. Perhaps he had imagined that smile too many times that his mind just couldn't handle it. Or maybe… just maybe… that was something else. It did feel familiar. Too familiar. It always had felt familiar. Being beside Aziraphale had always felt so unrealistically natural.
He should've suspected it sooner, one could say. But the demon had too many thoughts in his mind to focus on that little event. Firstly, he had to figure out what was that weird warm feeling that was getting over him as it started raining and he got automatically closer to Aziraphale, only to be received by a raised wing above his head protecting him from the rain.