In a quiet town in Tadfield, the sun was just barely over the horizon as the town slowly woke up. The orange glow warmed the streets and windows as early risers exited their homes.
Aziraphale blinked, his vision blurry as he found himself laying on the ground of his bookshop. He felt a little lightheaded as he looked around, feeling disoriented. His limbs were like jelly as he tried to pull himself up; the residual prickly feeling running down his whole body and behind his eyes. He could hear a faint ringing noise as he leaned against the wall, steadying himself. He frowned, feeling a little off as he rubbed a hand all over his body while checking for wounds and bruises. He can admit that he isn't the thinnest thing around, but he felt like he gained a stone or two. He licked his lips, finding that his front teeth had grown. He hobbled over to a mirror and almost fainting at the sight. He took a step back, shocked to see a different face staring back at him.
His face was plumper and his nose was bulbous. He had a bald spot on top of his head and his hair wasn't as luscious and soft as usual. His eyebrows were like grey bushes above his eyes. He opened his mouth, finding that his teeth indeed looked like a rabbit's. His clothes were more baggy and worn-looking.
He sank into a nearby chair, mumbling to himself, "This is not happening..." A second later he got up out of the chair and started to pace. He would give a yelp of surprise every time he glanced at himself in the mirror and collapse in the chair. A moment later, he would forget from shock, stand up, pace, and yelp in surprise in front of the mirror. A tower of books falling shook him out of his pacing.
He rubbed his eyes, shaking his head, "This must be a dream...I've got to have a lie down."
Xxxxxx
It was mid-afternoon when Madame Tracy decided to pop in and have a little chat with her bookshop friend. She raised a brow when she noticed the sign on the door flipped to CLOSED when it was hours away from the usual closing time. She tested the doorknob and the door was unlocked.
"Aziraphale?" She called, looking around to see if something was amiss. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary but a few books toppled over, which isn't strange when there are towers of books here and there. She looked high and low as panic slowly seized her.
"Aziraphale?"
"In here." She heard a muffled sound from the second floor as she rushed towards the voice, her slightly heeled shoes clacking on the wooden stairs. The door to Aziraphale's quarters were shut.
"Dear? Are you alright?" Madame Tracy knocked on his bedroom door, cracking the door slightly open.
"I'm fine! D-don't come in! I'm very...contagious!" Aziraphale spoke slow and gravelly, his buck teeth getting in the way. He coughed a bit, playing the part. He was hiding on his bed, wrapped in his tartan blanket.
"You do sound awful...shall I bring you tea?"
"N-no! That won't be necessary, thank you." He wrapped his blanket around himself tighter, fearing she would come in anyway knowing her. A long pause behind the door made him hold his breath until he heard her sigh.
"Alright," Madame Tracy looked on sadly, "I'll talk to you later, ok dear? Take care." Aziraphale softly hummed as he heard the clanking of her shoes slowly fade away. He pulled the blanket over his head and curled in on himself, trying to muffle his sobs with a hand.
He didn't realize he fell asleep when he woke up to the sweet smell of apples. The morning sun was just peeking through his curtains as he went to clean himself up. He still flinched at his reflection as he stared at himself in the mirror, poking his nose and pulling at his skin trying to see if any of this was real. It felt real. Too real. He heaved a heavy sigh, washing his face and brushed his teeth (as much as he could despite his giant front teeth). He didn't really bother with his hair as he pulled out a sun hat (of course with a tartan ribbon tied to it) and placed it on his head. He quickly whipped up some breakfast as dread seeped into his heart. He couldn't stay here.
He didn't know if he could stay. He didn't exactly look like himself. He could say that he-Aziraphale was out on holiday, but that can only go for so long. He couldn't "kill" himself, it would be too horrible. With a heavy heart, he made up his mind.
He slowly walked around his bookshop, running his hands along his favorite books. He doesn't want to go, but he can't face his best friend (Madame Tracy) looking the way he does. He could hide away for a while, find a cure or a spell to reverse...whatever /he/ put on him. Or he could become a beekeeper and change his name to...Mr. Fell the beekeeper! He scrunched his nose at that thought, shaking his head. He loved this bookstore. He would give up his life if something were to happen to his books. He pulled out his suitcase, placing some of his favorite books, a few food items such as cheese, bread, and other snacks that wouldn't get rotten easily, and a little journal. A little box on his desk caught his eye. He opened the box and inside it had cough syrup, a little jar of honey and a little bag of candied ginger. There was a letter inside it from Madame Tracy, telling him to get well soon and get lots of rest. He felt his eyes begin to water as he packed up the gifts from the scarlet haired into the suitcase as well.
With one last look at his bookshop, he locked the door, leaving a key and a note for Madame Tracy to find and off he went. He walked all the way to the bus stop. Surprisingly-or unsurprisingly, no one stopped him on the way. He didn't know where he was planning on going, but when the bus said "London" on its screen he decided to throw all caution to the wind and hop on.
Xxxxxx
He hardly visited the city, so it was exciting to see the beautiful sights and sounds. There were so many people and the buildings were so close together. He found a crepe shop, which was delicious but the crepes were on the thicker side. Nothing could compare to the shop back home... He cursed, trying to not to let those thoughts slip. He had decided. He wasn't going back until he sorted all this stuff out. He fixed his bowtie, straightened his hat and trudged on.
He found a little duck pond and heard the little honks of the ducks. He watched the cute little ducks swimming around when he noticed a familiar grey Bentley parked not too far from him. He stared at the Bentley in shock and confusion, wondering if that beautiful redhead was somewhere clos-Aziraraphale shook his head. He could feel his ears burn as he cursed, wondering why his thoughts wandered in that direction. He barely had time to recover when the Bentley drove right in front of him. The white haired blinked, looked into the driver's seat and gasped. No one was inside the car. Aziraphale frowned, perplexed at how this car operated when the car door opened. He looked to the right and left nervously, checking to see if this invitation was actually for him. When nothing happened he cautiously walked towards the car, barely touching the door with his fingertips as he slid into the driver's seat. He looked around, checking to see if there was anything or anyone inside at all when the door slammed shut. Panic rose in his throat as the Bentley drove away from the duck pond. He tried the handle but the door didn't budge as the car drove down an alleyway then a side street. Aziraphale banged on the window, trying to get people's attention but no one seemed to notice him or seem to care as the Bentley took him down another side street. The white haired stopped his attempts at escaping when he caught sight of the fancier houses.
The Bentley slowly came to a stop in front of a grey rectangle-looking house, popping open the door. There were barely any cars or people around as Aziraphale slowly got out of the car, mesmerized by the scenery. It was very quiet and seemingly blocked out all the traffic noise. All different types of plants flourished, spilling out over the wall and the balcony of the grey house. The white haired could even see plants blocking the windows.
He admired the mini garden in the front, seeing how it is packed with ferns, roses, tulips, and other plants he didn't recognize. There was even a little fountain with birds playing in the water. He raised an eyebrow at the angel statue with a snake coiled around the angel's torso on top of the fountain. The angel is poised with its wings spread out and holding a vase where the water is flowing out of. The snake had its length around the angel's torso, all the way down the angel's leg and ending at the angel's heel. The front door creaked open, surprising the white haired. He quickly looked behind him to see if someone was coming home, but saw no one there. He cautiously stared at the open door, waiting with baited breath if someone or something would jump out at him. He glanced up at the windows, checking to see if someone was watching him. After a beat, the quiet chirping of the birds was the only thing he heard as he took a few steps toward the door. When nothing else happened, he took a few more.
Once he got to the door, he peeked inside and saw a set of stairs. He hesitantly climbed the steps, hearing the creaking of the boards. He didn't noticed the soft click of the door locking behind him as he gripped the railing. Peeking over the top of the stairs, he first noticed how much grey it is on the inside as much as the outside. There were barely any plants in what appeared to be the living room. There were only plants right against the window. The room had barely any furniture as well; only a desk, a flat screen telly, and a throne. He rose an eyebrow at the throne, finding the piece of furniture seemingly out of place but on the other hand, it fit well. There was also a little statue that was of two angels in a compromising position (wrestling perhaps?). He saw a weird door, which seemed like a slab of concrete, slightly slanted open to another room where he could see an abundance of plants.
Aziraphale stuck his head out into the next room, his breath catching as he took in the sight. It looked like a jungle with lush dark green plants and many different varieties and colors of flowers. The outside garden was beautiful, but inside was magnificent. The room had almost wall to wall of plants with even more varieties than the ones from outside. The white haired ran his fingers along a large leafed plant, admiring how smooth and shiny the leaf was as he mumbled some praises. He could feel the plant shake under his fingertips and saw other plants seem to shake as well. He thought a gust of wind must have blew by, but noticed that the windows were shut. Aziraphale frowned, blinking curiously at the plants before shrugging.
The white haired noticed there was a fireplace on the far wall. It was a grand fireplace with grey rock framing the pit. The fire was burning low, the orange glow barely even peeking out between the blackened firewood. A sofa sat in front of the fireplace, its plump soft red cushions looking inviting. He placed his suitcase and hat next to the sofa on the floor and sagged into the luxurious fluffy pillows. A stack of firewood was placed near his foot. Aziraphale reached down and threw some dry firewood into the fireplace. The fire started to grow slightly as the white haired smiled with relief. His eyelids started to droop as he could feel the fire warming his face and his sore joints. He reasoned that he had traveled all day and decided a short nap was in order. He almost dozed off when, sleepily, he realized that the fire began to take shape. He thought it was his tired mind playing tricks on him as the fire looked like it sprouted arms, eyes and a mouth; but Aziraphale froze with wide eyes when the fire opened its mouth.
"Who are you? You smell like poop."
"I beg your pardon?"
Xxxxxx
Notes: Sorry for the wait! I had a little bit of trouble writing this chapter. Also my pet bird passed away... Anyways I hope you enjoyed reading! Who could be Calcifer? Lol Comments are appreciated :) See you in the next chapter! Tada!
