V
From her perch above, Lilith rolled off onto the bed beside him. They were entirely spent and exhausted -if it were possible for demons to be exhausted. In Crowley's mind, he'd been thoroughly and completely thanked. He'd been thanked vigorously, in fact, many times over.
He couldn't understand why Adam wouldn't have wanted Lilith on top. Crowley found it brilliant.
As he lay there, staring at his ceiling and contemplating whether or not he'd bother washing his sheets versus throwing them out, another thought came to him, one far more important.
"Have you heard anything about the Antichrist?" he asked the woman at his side.
She rolled her head to look at him, her brows furrowed and a curious expression taking her face.
"No, as a matter of fact." She replied. "Let's find out why."
Lilith snapped her fingers and the room filled with the sound of a ringing phone. He vaguely heard a cell phone fall to the floor while they were busy removing every piece of clothing they could, though he couldn't say where it was. The ringing went on for a little longer than Crowley would have thought before the other end was finally picked up.
"Lilith, hello." A deep, frightened male voice replied. "What… what can I do for you?"
He was stammering and worried, something that brought a smile to Crowley's face, and he didn't know why.
"I haven't heard from you, Charlie," Lilith said in a stern, yet deceptively sweet voice. "Why haven't I heard from you?"
He began to stammer again, unable to get out a single word to defend himself.
"I'm disappointed, Charlie."
"I'm trying," he was quick to say. "But finding a single child in the whole of Oxford is difficult."
"It really isn't," she said. Crowley couldn't help but watch her. Lilith remained calm and serene, staring at his ceiling as she spoke, but her voice held a tone that clearly bothered the man on the other line. "Make a list of children in their fifth year. Then eliminate all of the girls. Next, you compare birthdays with the one I gave you. I highly doubt there are more than a dozen boys who match that description, and you haven't found a single one. You've failed, Charlie."
The man on the other end began to beg and plead, something that turned Crowley's stomach, but made him feel pity for Dear Old Charlie.
"Goodbye, Charlie," Lilith said, snapping her fingers and ending the call in the middle of the man's explanation.
She let out an annoyed sigh and stood. Crowley watched her with mild interest.
"It doesn't appear my source will be coming through, I'm afraid." Lilith grabbed her panties and slid them on.
"Sounded rather fond of you," Crowley said as he propped himself up on his elbows. "Who was he?"
"He's a London Chief Inspector. And he isn't. He can't be. He only thinks he is. That's the point," she told him plainly. Crowley hadn't expected that as an answer. After clipping her bra on, she turned to face him, running her fingers through her hair to move it away from her face. "What will happen if you can't find him?"
"Armageddon."
"I know that bit, but I meant with you. From the looks of it, you don't plan to stick around."
"If it all goes pear-shaped, then yeah, I'm gone. Great global war isn't really my thing, anymore. I've done it once. Didn't suit me."
She smirked a little. "And your angel friend?" Crowley shot her warning glance that didn't seem to have the desired effect. "You care about him enough I doubt you'd leave him behind."
"Now, you listen to me," he growled, shoving himself up from his bed and approaching her. "I am a demon-"
"And defending yourself to the wrong person," she said, cutting him off. "Desire and love go hand in hand. I can sense them both." She plucked the shirt she'd been wearing earlier out of thin air and threaded her arms through the sleeves. "And you love him very much. He's your best friend, isn't he?"
Crowley didn't reply. He wasn't entirely certain what to say because she wasn't wrong. Aziraphale was his best friend, his only friend, actually. But, his arrogant side wouldn't quite let her know it. He was a prideful sort.
"If I hear one mocking word-"
Her delicate brows pulled together. She tilted her head marginally to the side as though confused with his threat.
"I wouldn't mock you," she told him plainly. "I envy it." That hadn't been what he expected to hear. "You're lucky to have someone you care about that much. Most of us never have."
For some reason, that thought made him sad. It made sense demons didn't have friends. They were rude, distrustful, some smelled absolutely horrific because cleanliness was next to Godliness, and no one simply wanted to be friends with them. Now, Crowley was self-aware enough to know he ticked two of those three boxes, and that he was lucky enough Aziraphale (a bloody angel, of all things) didn't mind the fact. Yet, the thought that Lilith had no friends made him sad. She was a demon as well, but like him, possibly only ticked two of the three.
Perhaps he still saw her as the human girl from The Garden?
"Not one?" he asked, for whatever reason.
"One, I suppose." Lilith righted herself completely, looking again as though the last few hours hadn't happened. "But that was back before I was this, and he wasn't exactly human."
The small smirk twisting the corner of her lips let him know, without a doubt, that she meant him. It stroked his already-strong ego.
Lilith let out a small scoff of a laugh, and shook her head at him. She seemed amused, which meant she likely knew exactly what her comment had done. It was possible she'd sensed it.
"Perhaps I'll see you again before the world explodes, hm?" And with that, Lilith left the bedroom.
Crowley remained for only a moment before following suit. He found her in his foyer surrounded by his plants, lifting her leather jacket between her fingers. Something came over him, something he blamed on his previous assumption that he actually viewed her as the human woman she once was.
As nonchalantly as he could, sure to remove any possible emotion from his voice, he said, "You should join us."
In the middle of putting her jacket back on, Lilith paused. She turned to give him a questioning glance.
"I'm sorry?"
He eyed her, letting her know that he had no intentions of repeating himself. Lilith smirked once again.
"Wouldn't that be a funny sight." She mused. "A snake, an angel, and a monster. Fairly certain there's a joke in there somewhere." He cocked a brow and grinned. "Goodbye, Mr. Crowley. If you need me," She snapped her fingers. "My number's in your phone."
With a wink, she left his flat.
Aziraphale had spent the majority of the day torturing himself over what to do. His conversation with Gabriel still plagued him. The Archangel wanted the end of the world. In fact, they seemed to be salivating over it. How? How could angels want war so badly? And why?
Aziraphale had walked through the parks, through gardens, and down old cobblestone streets. He looked in the windows of shops, and watched couples walk hand in hand. The world was filled with such beauty, with such wonder and love, and his kind wanted to wipe it clean.
It puzzled him a great deal. The world had spent six-thousand years growing, expanding, evolving –how could they let it end?
As he walked once more through Soho on his way back to his shop, Aziraphale hadn't stopped ringing his hands together, twiddling his thumbs and fidgeting. One thought emerged in his mind over and over again. If Gabriel, his superior, was unwilling to listen, then surely God would? Of all the beings in all the worlds, God would be the one to speak to.
Yards from his shop, a large, black and grey Bentley sped to a stop, screeching its tires as it did. Not seconds later, Crowley appeared.
"Angel!" He called out as he raced for the man in white. "I'm sorry, I apologize. Whatever I said, I didn't mean it," he said quickly, stunning Aziraphale into silence. He was being bombarded. "Work with me, I'm apologizing here. Yes? Good? Get in the car."
"What? No." Aziraphale said. Crowley was being frantic and he didn't like it.
"The Forces of Hell have found out it's my fault, but, we can runaway together." Crowley hadn't stopped moving, flailing his long limbs as he did. "Alpha Centuri!" He thrust his hand into the sky. "Lots of spare planets up there. No one'll even notice us. You, me, and Lilith."
Aziraphale's brows pulled together. He continued to look at Crowley as though he'd gone mad, and maybe he had, but the option to flee would have been a nice one. A part of him, albeit smaller than most, said he should simply run. Crowley was his best friend in the world and while most days he'd be more than willing to go wherever with him, and he might even enjoy Lilith's company as well, he couldn't. He just… couldn't.
"I can't," he said, verbalizing his reticence. "You're being ridiculous. Look, I'm sure that if I-I-I." He'd begun stammering and had to do his best to regain control. "If I can just reach the right people, I'm sure I can get all this sorted."
Crowley looked downright appalled, which was odd. Whatever interaction led to his seeking Aziraphale out must have put the fear of God in the demon.
"There aren't any right people." Crowley snapped. "There's only God, moving in mysterious ways, and not talking to any of us."
"Well, yes, that is why I'm going to have a talk with the Almighty, and then… the Almighty will fix it."
Crowley looked at him with staunch disbelief. It hurt Aziraphale to see, in all honesty. Crowley stared at him as though he'd gone mad. It was the only logical plan Aziraphale could come up with. He knew it boiled down to the perpetual optimist in him, but he had to try. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he didn't try.
"That won't work," Crowley told him. "You're so clever. How can someone so clever be so stupid?"
That declaration stung. While Aziraphale had grown accustomed to Crowley's biting remarks and how he spoke without consideration as to how it may make others feel because he possessed no filter, he accepted it as just part of the demon's personality. But that remark and the way it was spoken genuinely stung.
Aziraphale wilted just a little inside before he said, "I forgive you." Because he did, he truly did, and always would.
Crowley let out a disgusted-sounding sigh, shook his head, and darted off once more.
"I'm going home, Angel," he called back. Crowley swung the door of his Bentley open and stood in it to face him. "I'm getting my stuff and I am leaving. And when I'm off, living in the stars, I won't even think about you!"
Aziraphale's brow furrowed and his heart sank as he watched Crowley get into his car and speed away without looking back. Sudden fear swept through him when his friend had gone. He was afraid Crowley would keep his promise and disappear, that he would be left alone during Armageddon, and that he wouldn't be able to stop it. How was he meant to do this without his only support?
But he would. He would do it. Aziraphale would succeed, show Crowley that God did listen to prayers, and surely She would help them.
And when he did, Crowley would return from the stars, and they could be friends again.
"I've been there before." The voice of a man brought Aziraphale out of his thoughts. "You're better off without him."
And with a small smile, the man walked away.
What an odd thing to say, Aziraphale thought. Who on Earth would be better off without their best friend?
Meanwhile, elsewhere in Soho:
Lilith was in her bar. She'd only just emerged from the shower, drying her hair while wrapped within the warm plush of her robe. As she returned to her office, dabbing her long hair as she went, she spotted two figures standing near her snake.
The smell of Hell rolled off of them like thick smoke, acrid and strong, though smoke smelled infinitely better than the pair.
"I wonder what it tastes like," The one on the left hissed unnaturally. It became clear that they were speaking about her snake.
"I'd like to find out." The one on the right said.
"Try it," Lilith said, forcing the pair to turn around. "And neither of you will leave this library alive."
Her eyes danced over the pair. The one on the left she didn't know. It was hunched over, oozing a bit of black from its scalp that dripped down gaunt features, with eyes an equally oil-like color. Bird-thin lips curled back over sharp, piranha-like teeth.
The one on the right she knew. It was Dagon, Lord of Flies from Hell. She'd seen Dagon before centuries ago when the shaky truce between her and Hell was established. Dagon had been sent to smooth things over, to promise that they wouldn't send anymore demons to try and bring Lilith down to them, so long as she promised to fight on their side.
She made no such promise. Dagon offered they'd leave her alone if she promised to supply their armies with her children. She refused. Their "barter" finally ended when Lilith did make a promise, however. She promised that any demon who came to her would die. Dagon said that the conversation wasn't over. Clearly it wasn't.
"What do you want?"
"The war is coming," Dagon said as it approached with its arms behind its back. "We're calling everyone to arms."
"I've told you, I'm not fighting for Hell."
"You fight for the angels, then?" The one she didn't know hissed, spitting some of the black ooze from its mouth.
Lilith saw some of the spittle land on her rug and scowled. She doubted she would ever get the stain out.
"Of course not," Lilith replied. Her gaze drifted back to Dagon, "But I'm not a Fallen, either."
"You're a demon!" Dagon growled angrily.
Lilith dropped her towel onto her desk and eyed the drawer she kept her Holy Water bottle in, genuinely considering retrieving it. She could kill them both, so easily, but it would bring more trouble than it's worth. Dagon was a Lord of Hell, not one of the little brutes they'd sent before. In the grand scheme of things, killing a brute was nothing compared to killing a Lord.
Regrettably, she decided against it.
"I'll fight for myself, if it comes to it," she told Dagon. "But I am no one's soldier."
Dagon ground its teeth, paced and moved angrily. Lilith could tell it didn't like her answer, but it was the only one she would give.
"Unacceptable," It growled. "Lucifer will hear about this!"
"Tell him," she said with a shrug.
Perhaps she should fear the Devil. It would be the rational thing to do, but Lilith cared about nothing. It was a hard reality of being over six-thousand years old. It was hard to care about anything, especially since the last things she loved had been so viciously taken away from her. Once one is forced to stand in a sea of bodies, the bodies of one's children no less, very little mattered.
"At least give us your children," the oozing demon demanded.
"If they choose to fight for you, so be it," Lilith replied. "I don't care. Now, leave. I'll already have a time trying to get the stench out."
With nothing else to say on the matter, Lilith picked up her towel and left the room.
As she returned to the bathroom to hang up the piece of terrycloth, Lilith couldn't help but think about the situation that led her to the one she found herself in. Dominos had been toppled before dominos were even invented. One small, tiny little thing (her running away) brought so much more.
Lilith had no choice but to return to Eden, broken and empty. God, her creator and Almighty, had sent the angels to kill her children. They lay dead around her, babes she carried and birthed. The angels killed without mercy and on the orders of her creator. Lilith needed Adam. She needed to tell him what God had done. She needed someone to console her.
Sand, dust, and dirt clung to wet cheeks as she returned through the hole that had been made for her escape. She crept through the gap and into the once-glorious land of Eden. It no longer welcomed her. It was cold to her, empty and dead despite its beauty.
Lilith searched for Adam for what felt like an eternity before stumbling across something that caused her to pause. A woman with dusky skin, curled hair, and a voluptuous body, was knelt by the pool –Lilith's pool.
Rage and anger swept through her to a degree that surprised the young woman.
"Who are you?" She demanded.
The young woman by the water started and spun. She stared back at Lilith with eyes widened by fright and her mouth agape. When she spoke, she didn't answer. Instead, she called loudly for Adam in a panicked tone.
Adam, her Adam, charged through the brush and appeared within seconds brandishing a stick. With fury and fight in his eyes, he searched for the threat, only to find Lilith the cause. His brows pulled together and his arm lowered. She was immediately filled with the same pain that brought her to return.
"What are you doing here?" Adam asked callously.
"They killed our children," Lilith said in a broken voice. "She sent Her angels to murder our children."
Adam was unmoved by the display of emotion.
"You turned your back on Him and Eden," he told her cruelly. "You deserve whatever fate He brought."
She flinched. "How can you say that?" Her voice quivered a note.
Adam remained silent until he stood beside the other young woman. He wrapped an arm protectively around her shoulder while she clung to his side.
"I have a new wife, now," he said. Lilith felt whatever was left of her heart begin to crumble. "He made her for me, to honor and obey me. You're no longer welcomed in Eden."
Confusion and pain soon turned to rage -rage at the man she once truly loved and she thought loved her, and rage toward the god who made it happen.
"You and I were the first. We were made together. We belong together."
"No more," Adam replied. "Eve and I have been given the chance to begin Man's reign on Earth. You have forsaken all of His gifts, turned away from Paradise and me, so you deserve no sympathy. Your bastards deserved their fate and you are no different than a Fallen."
With a ferocious cry, Lilith charged for Adam. She shoved Eve out of the way, forcing the young woman to stumble, and threw Adam violently to the ground. Lilith was on him in an instant, pinning the much-stronger man to the grass with ease. She was fueled by rage and betrayal, emotions so intense that they threatened to rip her body apart. Humans weren't meant to feel such things.
"Then I will make you this promise, Adam. If I am a monster, then your god has made me one. I will return Her kindness and kill any child born hence. Any Son of Adam or Daughter of Eve will be mine to feast upon. I will create new children, demons to walk this Earth who too will feed on your offspring. We will haunt the nightmares of Man, corrupt their minds and hearts, and destroy their souls." She leaned closer to him and ensured his focus was solely on her. "So long as this world and those beyond exist, I swear to you, your children will not be safe. I will destroy your God's perfect image."
And it was in that moment that God's back turned on her, fully and completely.
Without warning, a blinding light flashed. The angel Aziraphale shouted, "be gone, foul creature!" and the light slammed into Lilith and sent her reeling.
Lilith hit the ground hard, rolling until she came to a stop in a blanket of ferns. And when she rose on trembling legs, a creature she was. Eyes that blazed with the fires of Hell, that showcased her rage, were easily seen at a distance. The once beautiful blue was gone, replaced with writhing and churning flame. Her lips rolled back over her teeth, revealing them to have sharpened –not all, but the same as a beast's. Hair once as golden as the sun filled with the deepest black, each strand stained the shade of night. And her skin, once beautifully bronzed and sun-kissed, lost all color. It washed from her, leaving behind a nearly white complexion, one that lacked all pink hues of life.
Aziraphale approached her with his flaming sword and face stern.
"The things you have sworn are monstrous," he told her. "So a monster you shall be." His voice dipped a little and a sympathetic tone leaked out. "No longer will God's light warm your skin. No longer will you create life, a gift given to you by Her. You will only bring death and suffering."
Lilith opened her mouth and let loose a sound that was no longer human, a hissing roar that caused both human and angel alike to shudder. In a flash, she was gone.
Her hand hung limply, still clinging halfheartedly onto the towel. Tears trickled down her cheeks as she remembered the time that was burned into her thoughts. It would never leave her, nor would Aziraphale's words.
She never did create life again. Her demonic children were not alive. She would feed on the humans, steal their lives and souls like she promised she would, and then with a drop of her blood, they would be twisted and turned into something truly evil, but their hearts would never beat again.
Lilith corrupted the children of Adam and Eve, corrupted God's creation, and that was what Hell wanted her for.
She only brought death and suffering.
Meanwhile, elsewhere in Soho:
Crowley stepped through the burning doors of the bookshop. His heart, or whatever there was remaining, had broken. Aziraphale was gone. While he knew his friend wasn't truly dead, he knew he would never see him again, and their last words had been so cruel.
He needed alcohol. Copious and copious amounts of alcohol.