2020

England

South Downs

Aziraphale finished the final swipe of the towel on the kitchen countertop with a satisfied sigh. He was quite pleased they had gone with grey marble, but he was never going to admit that to Crowley, who had been the one to argue for it in the first place.

Suddenly his vision went white. Pure terror immediately followed. He could feel the wooden kitchen floor beneath him, but it was the only hint that he was still in the same place. He put his hand in front of his face and could just barely see its outline. Somehow, impossibly, one particular point seemed brighter than the surrounding whiteness.

He panicked entirely, realizing what, exactly, was happening in his kitchen.

"Principality Aziraphale, Angel of the Eastern Gate."

It was not the Metatron.

It was the voice he had not heard since Eden.

God. Here, in South Downs. In his kitchen!

"Yes, Lord? I can't quite- quite see you."

"You would no longer survive that."

"I- I've done the best I can. I hope- I hope I've done well, my Lord."

"You've done very well. Why are you trembling?"

"I thought... I almost thought you were here to cast me down, for, er..."

"You had faith you would not Fall."

"I, yes, but- I'm sorry, it wavered, I, you see, we, er... Well."

"Why would you think that Love would make you Fall?"

When it was put that simply, Aziraphale had no answer.

"You led one of my Fallen angels out of the clutches of Hell's influence."

"But... Gabriel. The other angels..."

"They have never accomplished such a feat."

Aziraphale opened his mouth but could not speak. His voice trembled and failed.

Perspective was a heady intoxicant.

"You have taken one of Hell's strongest demons from their ranks, weakening their power. You have also given Adam his freedom from Hell. You have prevented the Earth, and my human children, from being destroyed. You have prevented endless deaths of my angels, both heavenly and fallen. Why would you think that would make you Fall?"

Aziraphale had no answer.

"Aziraphale, my beloved Principality. You have an instinctive touch for the difference between Right and Wrong, through every circumstance, and you have followed my Great and Ineffable Plan to the letter, through your own decisions. I shall grant you your well-earned reward."

Aziraphale tensed in anticipation, which bordered heavily on dread. Was he to be returned to Heaven? Promoted? Honored? Given the responsibilities that came with such promotions?

God's voice softened. "I grant you the full use of a gift that you have had all along."

Aziraphale's face twisted in confusion.

"I grant you full use of your Free Will. Heaven will always welcome you, but you truly belong here, on the Earth. I grant you the Earth itself, to love and cherish, so you can rest. I give you the rest of Time to do as you will, to enjoy your existence with your beloved demon. He has received the same gift, though it was your actions that give it to him, not mine, as according to the Plan. You both have my gratitude, Aziraphale. Well done."

Aziraphale had never been more speechless. He felt tears falling down his cheeks. His brain repeated an endless, jumbled monotone of gratitude, but the words wouldn't make it past his mouth. He knew that She understood, that She could feel the gratitude and relief pouring from him.

"I love you," She whispered, and Aziraphale could feel the Glory of it through his bones, to the tips of every feather of his wings, quivering just out of sight.

The Light grew, impossibly, a tendril escaping from the brightest spot, reaching out, brushing against his skin. His wings instinctively unfolded and expanded, reaching towards it. It encompassed him, filling him with the indescribable Love of God, magnificent, divine. He could feel his spine arch back and his jaw drop into a silent scream, the pure and utter Joy of it too much for him to handle. Surely, any moment, his fragile human body would simply incinerate-

And then She was gone, the kitchen empty, their utterly mundane belongings surrounding him again, but looking anything but mundane. Everything was shining, even the matte stone earthenware pots that held his cooking utensils. All of the reflective surfaces were throwing sparkles of white light and rainbows everywhere, as if a thousand crystals hung in the window to reflect the sun. He stood in a whirlwind of emotions, his mouth hung open, rooted to the floor, swaying in disorientation, desperately wishing Crowley was here to share in this bliss, quickly moving from wishing to Wishing.

He heard the roar of the Bentley almost immediately, and a wave of relief spread over him. He wondered briefly if he really had Wished Crowley here. He waited, unable to move, his feet still firmly rooted to the floor, silently calling Crowley to him, feeling his presence in the street, then in the driveway.

"Aziraphale?!" Crowley screamed from the front door, feeling waves of urgency, but not understanding. His voice was as tense as a bowstring, layers of anger and fear intertwining, knowing something was happening to his angel. He had also felt the presence of Something, very large and impossibly powerful. His fear for Aziraphale was overwhelming every caution. "What's- I felt- are you-?!"

Aziraphale heard his frantic footsteps run down the staircase and approach the kitchen, but he was unable to move.

Crowley's wings were already extended, fingers curled into fists, his jaw clenched. His face bore a grimace, ready for battle, prepared to fight to his death. He stopped abruptly, just around the corner, seeing radiating, brilliant white light, the beams of it reflecting from every surface. Dancing flashes of light escaped the kitchen and bounced around the walls.

Crowley's arm instinctively raised to shield his eyes as he rounded the corner. "What?! You- did you!" There was only one way for an angel to shine this much.

"The Almighty spoke to me," Aziraphale affirmed, his voice ringing with power, his wings such a bright white that individual feathers were no longer visible, if Crowley had dared to look. "I have been granted full use of my Free Will. She… She touched me with Her Love."

Crowley stood silent, entirely speechless.

"We're- we're free, we're really free, my love, it was all planned, we got it entirely right, and now we're free, for the rest of eternity, together." His voice rang. Aziraphale's glow increased, impossibly, and Crowley clapped both his hands fully over his eyes, afraid of burning out his sight.

"Look at me, my love. Look," Aziraphale whispered, taking a step towards him, one foot finally free from the floor, raising his hand to reach for Crowley. The power radiating from him was indescribable. Crowley could hear tears in his voice.

"I can't, I'll- Won't it-"

"She said... She gave us both Her gratitude, my love. I very much doubt that Holy Light will harm you now," Aziraphale said, knowing to his bones that he was right.

Crowley thought he could not be more speechless. He slowly lowered his arm, flinching instinctively as the light hit the back of his eyelids.

"Look at me, my love," Aziraphale whispered again, taking another step closer, holding his arms out, his breath catching. "Let me hold you, my beloved demon."

Crowley stepped forward cautiously, his eyes squinting open, dazzled by the brilliance radiating from Aziraphale's fully visible aura, the reflections on it shining from every surface. The white glow of his feathers seemed to pulse with colors that didn't exist.

"That's what She called you, Crowley. My beloved demon." Aziraphale's voice trembled. "You're my beloved demon." He repeated it again, knowing he would never tire of that phrase, the tears spilling again, coating his cheeks.

Crowley gasped, his own eyes burning with tears as he opened them fully, finally gazing upon Aziraphale in all his glory, expecting his eyes to sear in pain, but somehow able to look upon him. The Light from him still seemed to be on the spectrum just beyond the capability of his eyes, making him blink and squint to try to focus. Crowley hesitantly reached out to touch Aziraphale's outstretched hand, a tear escaping his eyes and rolling down his cheek.

"She- She did? She called me-"

"Yes." Aziraphale pulled him closer, face to face, and their foreheads touched. Aziraphale gripped Crowley's hand to his chest, their fingers laced tightly together. They leaned together, clutching around the shoulders of the other, holding close. Their wings curled in to tangle with each other, feathers sliding gently together, the tips aligning.

Crowley could feel the Holy Light traveling through Aziraphale's touch and winced in apprehension. But it was cool and soothing, entirely the opposite of what he was expecting. He had feared his feathers would catch fire, an ant under a magnifying glass directing the sun. If he could survive this Light... it implied he could actually survive the touch of Holy Water, or walk on consecrated ground unharmed. The knowledge was staggering. This was by far the closest any of the Fallen had gotten to being Forgiven by God. His chest heaved in a sob. What had he done to deserve this?

They stood tangled together, both crying unashamedly, sharing the Light between them while it slowly, slowly dissipated. Neither were sure how long it took, and neither cared. When it finally became dark in the kitchen, Crowley raised his head from Aziraphale's shoulder to see a ray of sunrise through the kitchen curtains. Had it been one night? Two? Five? It hardly mattered.

Crowley looked down at Aziraphale, tears still wet on both their cheeks.

"I love you, Aziraphale. My beloved angel." Crowley smiled, his real, genuine smile, his skin slightly glowing, angelic beauty shining through. His wings were still black, but there was a shining, metallic silvery gloss to them that had definitely not been there before. Aziraphale ran his fingers through the feathers, shocked. Everything about Crowley was stunningly beautiful, the Holy Light radiating from within him, glints of gold showing in his red hair.

"I love you," Crowley repeated quickly, loudly, almost sounding as if he was trying to convince Aziraphale. All the worry was gone from his brow, his expression open and relaxed, more at peace than it had ever been. He blinked.

Aziraphale made a ruined noise in the back of his throat, a gasping sob, and buried his face in Crowley's neck, unable to gaze upon his beauty any longer. The sob repeated, then intensified, as Aziraphale's whole body shook, sobs tearing through him, weeping in pure Joy.

Crowley pulled him closer, wrapping both arms around him, leaning against the counter and holding Aziraphale against him. "My beloved angel," he whispered, almost drunkenly, into Aziraphale's ear. "I love, you, Zira, I love you, so much, my angel. I always have. My beloved angel." The words tumbled out, over and over and over again. He made absolutely no attempt to stop them.

"I love you, Crowley, my dearest," Aziraphale sobbed into his shoulder, his voice cracking.

"Stay with me forever, Zira, please," Crowley begged, his chest heaving, "spend all of eternity with me, my love."

Aziraphale gave a gasp, almost of laughter. "Of course, my beloved demon," he said, his voice thick with tears of joy. "You don't even need to ask. You already know, forever and always. All of eternity. My husband."

The two celestial beings held each other close, desperately, as the bright, ethereal light finally faded away completely, surrounding them with mundane objects.

A rickety refrigerator, plain wooden cupboards, cooking utensils in clay jars.

Books strewn everywhere. A half open window, looking out onto the garden and greenhouse, signs of spring showing in the plants. The wind whistled, the birds sang.

Just another cottage in South Downs.

And God saw what She had made, the Guardians of Earth weeping together with joy, their Love slowly spreading across the countryside, a slowly growing cloud that would eventually, in Time, envelop the entirety of Earth... and it was very good.

Fin