Sorry i didn't update this last week, i don't remember to update this as much as i do on AO3. (same name) Its just alot of hassel updating here sometimes. I'll update on chapter 3 in a few days. For now enjoy!
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They had settled on a small village outside of the South Downs, on a small island called Hayling. The village was rather quaint, and the residents were nice. It was the perfect place to secretly raise the would be anti-Christ. They found a nice small cottage on about fifteen acres of land.
It was well outside of London, and it didn't take long to set up the house with small touches from their own homes: Aziraphale bringing in plenty of books from his shop which, considering it's very odd hours no one would ever be able to tell he had left. Crowley moved most of his well behaved plants. It was rather nice, each of them having their own rooms, including the baby.
They seemed to have things all planned out. Even with what everyone had thought was the anti-Christ, with how they had each hired agents to raise the boy to be more of their own sides. It was very much like an actual family, as close to an actual family could be, what with an angel and a demon being the parents of the one person who will one day gain the powers to end all existence.
It was a team effort, and both felt more or less free to do what they want, within reason, when raising the child. Crowley didn't even try very hard with the whole evil thing, there was no real pressure because, as far as hell knew he WAS trying really hard with Warlock Dowling. Similarly Aziraphale felt more or less free, for a lot of the same reasons. As far as heaven knew, he was attempting to teach the anti-Christ kindness and generosity. Well, he was... just not who they thought.
Any time the demon looked at the infant in Aziraphale's arms, he couldn't help but feel stronger about things more than he had in the past 6000 years. It was strange. He wished it could last forever, beyond the eleven year deadline.
Likewise any time Aziraphale looked at Crowley teaching William to walk, or to speak, he felt that same rush of warmth. Of love, as strong as the first time he realized what he was feeling back in 1941. It was such a powerful feeling, something he wished could last far beyond their eleven year deadline.
They took turns between tasks while raising the child, and some parts were harder than others. Crowley was grateful that the boy's powers were inactive during teething, though the bite of a one year old was as strong as a hell-hound puppy's. And given the last thing a temper tantrum of a two year old needed was the powers of hell. Still though, neither of them could expect how hard it was to take care of a child. And neither would give it up. It was an adventure, and while some parts were difficult, watching the boy William grow was something neither of them would give up.
Both of them had agreed, that neither of them would use any miracles. They wanted to raise the boy as normal as possible. Gabriel had commended Aziraphale at how much he had cut back on his 'frivolous miracles' during one of the times that Aziraphale had given a report on the progress of raising Warlock Dowling. The angel only gave a nervous smile at that, not entirely sure what to say to the compliment. He knew that heaven had felt that his little experiment was doomed to fail, and all he could do was just smile and nod. He could not wait to see the bright blue eyes of the 3 year old returning from the daycare they had left him at in South Hayling.
Down in hell, Crowley was giving his own report on the progress of the Dowling boy, stating how magnificently evil he was becoming; a right little hell raiser in his own rights. Ligur had asked whether the boy had killed anyone, and it was a question the demon had not expected. He shook off the worry though, eager to get out of this meeting as soon as possible. It's not that he didn't trust the humans watching over William, its just that he didn't trust humans to care for William the way he wanted. He told the counsel in hell that the boy was only three, and to give it time. There will be plenty of time for the coming apocalypse for the boy to kill anyone, right?
Thankfully the meetings adjourned and both Aziraphale and Crowley rode their escalators to the main lobby of the Gateway Tower. If it wasn't something that would arouse suspicion, both would have sprint down their stairs, but... they had to pretend, they had to give the illusion that there was absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. But one thing that was for sure, the angel did not complain about his friend speeding ninety miles per hour through central London, as they headed due south towards their home.
The years passed, as time does move forward, and William the Anti-Christ's childhood was as normal as it could be, though he could barely want for anything. Aziraphale provided a strong education, always reading to him, teaching him about some of his favorite authors, although he did try to keep the books at the boy's reading level. Crowley found himself watching this from the other room, and would watch for hours if it was possible. He loved how much the angel smiled at all the best parts. It was almost as entrancing as watching him eat his favorite dessert at the Ritz. He shot a quick glance to the ceiling, knowing it was not something that could last forever, but still he would be remiss if he didn't wish it would.
One of the moments that hit the two eternal beings the hardest, was when William had called them 'papa,' for Aziraphale and 'dada' for Crowley. They were his first words, and it was then that they both agreed, that they would try without fail, to prevent the oncoming apocalypse. It was a funny thing, that under normal circumstances that they would be 'enemies,' though that was really just for show than anything. They shared a common goal, and neither would realize that by the end of this, they would be closer to each other than ever.
One night, he found Aziraphale reading a bedtime story to the boy. He was still quite young, just over five. He was full of such curiosity, and was always willing to listen to the both of them. He watched as Aziraphale brushed a lock of hair off William's cheek before tucking his blanket around him.
"Good-night, dear boy." Aziraphale whispered softly, turning off the light and heading towards the door, where Crowley had stood.
"He's growing up so fast, isn't he?"
"Indeed. His seventh birthday is coming up in a few days." They both look at the now closed bedroom door. "We will win, Crowley."
Crowley couldn't help but smile. He loved the angel's optimism. "You really think so?"
Aziraphale continued to stare at the door. "I... well I certainly believe we will. Otherwise..." He didn't finish his thought, neither of them wanting to think about failing.
They headed to their own rooms. Crowley would have loved it if they slept in the same room, but considering the angel was never one for sleep, often spending hours in his study with his books, and planning lessons for William for the next week, Crowley would never get any sleep. Not that he needed.
But still, Crowley yearned for a time where the angel would be comfortable enough to share a room. He never pushed the subject, understanding that Aziraphale just needed time. He'd give him all the time he needed. The angel began to close the door to his study, giving him a tired smile.
"Sleep well, my dear."
"Good-night, angel." He muttered softly, before closing his own door.
