AN:Let me know what you think. Enjoy!
VII
"There," Crowley said, pointing at a child surrounded by his friends. "The curly one. Kill him, save the world."
"He's just a wee bern," Shadwell said.
"Oh," Aziraphale scoffed. He reached for the odd-looking weapon within the man's arms and took aim at the boy. The next voice to emerge from his lips was that of a woman. "You can't shoot him. He's only a child." And then Aziraphale. "Perhaps we should wait?"
Crowley couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Until he grows up?" He snapped. "Shoot him!"
Aziraphale hemmed and hawed, struggling with the task at hand. "Perhaps Lilith can." And he offered her the weapon.
"I'm not killing a child. I've never harmed a child."
"What?" Crowley's voice had hit a surprisingly high pitch. "But, that's your thing."
"Since when?" she snapped back. "I'm still a mother, thank you very much. Heaven is the one with the record of murdering children. The angel should do it."
Aziraphale continued to struggle with the realization that he must murder the boy, but he knew –all of them knew- that it wasn't technically a child. It was the Antichrist.
After finding whatever courage he could muster, he aimed the weapon and fired, but he never hit the target. When the gun let out its odd, cartoonish boom, the projectile sailed into the air.
No one knew what happened.
"I'm sorry," The woman whose body was being inhabited was the one to speak. "But I couldn't do it."
Crowley couldn't believe how quickly everything unraveled around them.
"Excuse me," the boy called out. "But, why are you two people?"
"Ah," Aziraphale answered. "Well, interesting story. You see, I was-"
"It's not right." The Antichrist said. "You should go back to being two people."
And with no effort, just that happened. What was once one became two.
Everything happened so quickly after that. While Crowley was glad that his friend was alive once more, that he had a body and wouldn't be subject to an immediate trip back to Heaven, he couldn't settle –not when the Horsemen arrived.
Humans.
Humans were strange creatures, filled to the brim with doubts and contradictions and sin. No matter how they tried to do the right thing, sometimes, the world was simply against them. At least, that was the adults. Children, on the other hand, were so simplistic in comparison. Things were black and white to them, not tainted by grownup issues.
For example, the three children that stood along the Antichrist didn't seem to care what he was. They didn't care that they stood against the fabled Horsemen of the Apocalypse, when a human adult would be struck dumb with fear. To them, it was nothing more than four people threatening to take their friend, and they acted accordingly.
As Famine's screams dissipated into the word, the little boy in glasses dropped Aziraphale's flaming sword. It made a great clank and clack before settling alongside the scales and Pollution's crown. Left only, was Death.
"Death," The Antichrist said in a very calm, and grownup voice. "This is over."
"It is over," Death replied, "But they will be back. They will never be far away. I am Creation's shadow. You cannot destroy me without destroying the world. Good afternoon, gentlemen."
Crowley arched a brow at the curious level of politeness Death showed before wings, great and black and made of nothingness, sprouted from its back. And then, in a blink, he was gone.
The air calmed, or at least it must have, because the humans and Aziraphale calmed. Crowley didn't, nor did Lilith. There was something lingering.
"You see, Crowley. I told you that if you simply had-"
"It's not over." Lilith said, interrupting the angel, though it didn't seem as though she meant to. She was in her own world, looking out at the scene around them, but Crowley knew she felt it, too.
"What?" Aziraphale asked with a quivering voice.
"She's right. It isn't over." Crowley said. "Nothing's over. Both Heaven and Hell still want their war." Crowley opened his mouth again to speak, but spotted something odd that immediately confused him. "What's that?"
He pointed down, drawing everyone's attention to the small black and white dog sitting at Lilith's feet, staring up at her with a wagging tail.
"Oh, hello there, darling." She smiled, knelt down, and lifted him into her arms. He instantly began to lick her face. "Sweet little thing, aren't you?"
"That's a Hellhound, you know." Crowley said.
"I'm aware." Her voice remained light and airy, borderline baby talk in truth, and it forced him to grimace while Aziraphale smiled. "They're one of mine, yes they are." She continued to dote on the dog before bending over to set him down. "Now then, go to your Master, my darling."
And obediently, the dog scampered back to the Antichrist's side. That finally helped Crowley snap himself into the moment and move past the odd interaction between Lilith, and the little black and white dog.
"You there, Antichrist," He stepped toward the boy. "What's your name again?"
"Adam Young."
"So, your friends got together and saved the world. Well done. Gold star for all." He didn't bother removing his thick, thick sarcasm, and knew they all heard it. "It won't make any difference."
"You!"
The new voice calling out to him forced Crowley to look in the direction where the Horsemen had once stood. It was the young woman he'd hit with… who had hit, his car and another human man.
"You stole my book."
"Ah!" He chimed. "Book Girl. Here you go. Catch!"
Crowley lobbed the tome at her. It sailed through the air with ease and somehow managed to keep its pages within its spine. Mostly.
She caught it and held the book to her chest like it was a precious thing, but through her glasses, she still stared angrily at him.
"What's going on here?"
"Long story. No time." He replied.
"Try me."
"Ah," Aziraphale spoke up before Crowley had a chance to brush the subject off completely. "Well, you see, in the beginning, he," He pointed at Crowley, "Was a wily old serpent, and I, well… I was technically on apple tree duty, and-"
Crowley couldn't let Aziraphale stumble over an answer anymore. "Sh, sh, sh, sh."
He tutted gently until Aziraphale stopped talking. Waving his hand dismissively and shaking his head, Crowley hoped he got his friend to avoid further explanation. It had worked, on Aziraphale. But, to his surprise, Lilith took the mantle next. She walked by the two until they stood just behind her.
"Angel," She pointed over her shoulder at Aziraphale, "Fallen," She pointed at Crowley. "Antichrist," Lilith proceeded to very succinctly point out everything while relaying what would have taken Aziraphale ages to explain. "Four Horsemen dissolved by three human children. Apocalypse temporarily averted. And…" she glanced over at Shadwell and the woman Aziraphale had arrived in. "Humans."
"Okay," Book Girl said with a gentle nod. "And you are?"
"Lilith."
"Lilith," she repeated, keeping a tone of disbelief. "Like the First Woman Lilith, or the Mother of Monsters Lilith?"
Lilith smiled wider than she ever had before, revealing her dangerous teeth as she let out a small giggle.
"Same person, little witch."
Book Girl tensed and stood a bit straighter than before, holding her book tighter while the man at her side shifted uncomfortably.
"Right, okay," Crowley said impatiently. "Now that that's out of the way, we need to-"
A bolt of lightning sailed through the sky and pierced the asphalt just behind them. As a figure emerged from within, the ground opened up and someone rose through it. An Angel and a Lord of Hell approached with anger in their steps. Crowley's stomach sank.
"Lord Beelzebub," he bowed to the demon with the fly atop its head.
"Crowley the traitor," It said in return.
"That's not a very nice word."
"All the other words I have are you are worse. Now wherezzzz the boy?"
Crowley motioned to his left and what followed was perhaps one of the most awkward talks an adult anything has ever had with a child. Little Antichrist Adam Young couldn't have been less interested in what either Gabriel or Beelzebub had to say.
They tried to threaten him and coax him with reward, but he couldn't be bothered. In fact, the longer the bargaining continued, the more evident it became that neither Gabriel nor Beelzebub knew if they were working toward God's ineffable plan, or not.
Crowley did his best with a bit of tricky word play. Talking had always been one of his finer skills, and he was glad to confuse them further. That was, until they took a step back and spoke to each other in hushed tones.
"Well," Gabriel said as he raised his voice. "At least we know whose fault it is!" Crowley brandished a wide smile while Aziraphale gave a small wave. "And that one, too." Gabriel pointed his finger to the side, showcasing Lilith. She only smiled back. Gabriel cringed. "Young man," His attention went back to Adam. "You were put on this world for one reason, and that is to end it. You're a disobedient little brat, and I hope somebody tells your father."
"Oh, they will." Beelzebub said.
And then, in a puff of smoke, they vanished from sight.
"Weren't they odd." The woman beside Shadwell muttered.
Crowley felt it almost immediately, the overwhelming pain and force of the purest evil in the world. It pulled him violently to the ground and Lilith didn't escape it, either. They crumbled under the force while the earth shook beneath their feet.
"Oh!" He shouted. "No, no, no, no!"
"What is it, what's happening?" Aziraphale was panicked, and he should be.
"They did it." Crowley could barely get the words out for the sheer shock of it. He couldn't believe it happened. "They told his father, and his Satanic father is not happy."
"Oh, no."
The ground began to roil and churn, to shift and move as Satan climbed higher and higher, desperate for the surface.
"Do something!" Aziraphale shouted.
"Like what?!" Crowley snapped back. "This is about Apocalypse anymore. This is personal, and we are fucked!"
"Do something, or… or I'll never speak to you again."
Crowley's brows furrowed.
There were a million, million threats more dangerous and more horrible than that. A million threats of bodily harm or pain in a thousand different ways, and Crowley would know –he'd given many of them. But that threat from Aziraphale scared Crowley, genuinely. For those few seconds, while the world fell apart around them, he believed Aziraphale would truly stop talking to him and that was enough for him to act.
Throwing his arms into the air with a loud, ferocious roar, he launched himself, Adam, and Aziraphale into a small pocket world where time meant nothing.
Surrounded by rolling hills of pure white sand, they could breathe, breathe and take a moment for themselves. Aziraphale rolled his head from side to side to alleviate a creak that had formed. Crowley reached into his jacket pocket and removed a pair of sunglasses he had materialized. He truly felt better wearing them.
He and Aziraphale did their best to explain to the young boy what was about to happen. Crowley hoped he was as clever as he seemed because they wouldn't have another chance. Once he started time again, the Devil would be on their doorstep.
Aziraphale clutched his flaming sword in one hand, and Adam in the other. Crowley held the burnt and singed window crank of his Bentley in his left hand, and Adam in the other. They were a small force, but a force nonetheless.
With a flick of his wrist, the world shifted, and brought them back to Tadfield.
Suddenly, in the distance, a great hole opened in the ground. An angry, red, black-clawed hand emerged. It tore at the asphalt as it brought up the Great Demon. A crown of horns encircled his head and wings like a bat sprouted from his back. He snarled and roared, flashing rows and rows of sharp, angry, rotted teeth.
"Where is my son?" His voice rolled over them, smooth yet undeniably sinister. "Where is he?" Adam, not showing the slightest hint of fear, approached the creature. "You? You are my rebellious son?"
"You're not my dad." Adam said back, temporarily stunning Satan.
"What?" he growled through his teeth.
"You're not my dad." Adam repeated. "Dad's don't wait 'till you're eleven to show up to tell you off."
As Adam berated the Devil himself, an amazing thing happened. Reality bent to his will as it had been since his powers began to awaken. It twisted the world to reflect what Adam believed, which was, very plainly, that Satan was not his father.
The Devil began to shout and scream in anger as he withered away and turned to dust. He vanished from sight, sinking back into the Pit just as, through the dust and debris that vanished with him, a car pulled up and a short man with a mustache appeared.
"Will somebody tell me what is going on here?" He demanded.
"That's… not Adam's father, is it?"
But it was. Crowley began to grin. Adam telling the Devil he wasn't his son became true. Adam "unmade" himself. He'd undone everything, no longer the Antichrist.
"It is." Crowley smirked. "And it always has been."
The man with the mustache drew ever-closer and spoke to his son. Adam said nothing as he took whatever punishment his father would dole out, but that was the end of it.
"Right," Crowley finally said. "Well, then. We should be getting on."
"Oh, yes, of course." Aziraphale nodded. He glanced around only briefly. "We should really take those." He pointed to the Horsemen's talismans that still lay on the ground. "Don't want them falling into the wrong hands, do we?"
"Right," Crowley nodded.
So together, he, Aziraphale, and Lilith gathered up the otherworldly artifacts while the others, the humans, did their best to recuperate.
The night air was quite invigorating. There was a chill, but not a foreboding chill. Instead, it hinted that the weather may change soon.
Aziraphale, Crowley, and Lilith sat together on a bus stop in the middle of Tadfield. The town itself seemed to have fallen asleep, leaving them the only creatures to stir in the night.
Crowley lamented having to take the bus, and had said so more than once, but he had no other alternative. With the only part of his car still nestled within his jacket pocket, what else was there to do?
Aziraphale quite liked the bus most days. There was always an amalgamation of interesting sorts, of dozens of lives connected by the simple use of the bus. And, on some days, there was a baby! Oh, he did adore babies. They were the closest humans ever were to God, so sweet, innocent, and with the most adorable, chubby little cheeks. He quite liked them.
Lilith didn't care for the bus, either, though her reasons weren't the same as Crowley's. She didn't like being in a confined space with humans when she as hungry, and she was very, very hungry.
A throbbing migraine had formed between her temples, pumping more and more with each heartbeat because, despite what she was, she still had a bloody heartbeat. So boom, boom, boom the headache went until she had no choice but to squeeze the bridge of her nose in a small attempt to calm it. Even her ears suffered. The once pleasant sounds of the night were gone. They, and Crowley and Aziraphale's conversation, had turned to a high-pitched buzz all at once.
Yet, somehow, oh my made it through.
Lilith lifted her head and opened her eyes to see both Crowley and Aziraphale staring at her. Crowley's expression was more or less unreadable beyond his sunglasses, while Aziraphale's face was twisted with shock and worry.
"Oh, my dear, your face," he said, motioning to his cheek.
"Thought you sorted that out," Crowley said, a great deal less concerned than his friend, as he motioned to Lilith's face.
A bit confused, she touched her cheek and felt the torn skin. She sighed and grumbled a bit under her breath.
"I told you, I only took a bit," she said, still gently probing the mark on her face with her fingertips. "I'd have killed the old man if I took was I actually needed."
"Since when have you had a problem killing people?" Crowley's voice dripped with sarcasm.
"He had a dog." Lilith snapped back. "I may not be fond of humans, but I rather like animals, thank you very much." She was looking dead-set at Crowley, but could see Aziraphale smile at her declaration. "And who'd take care of the poor thing if I'd killed him, hm?"
She might not have been able to see it, but Lilith had a sneaking suspicion that Crowley rolled his eyes when he scoffed. She glared back, but doubted he noticed as he put the mouth of his wine bottle to his lips.
"I'll find someone to eat when we get back to London."
"Oh, no. That won't be necessary." Aziraphale wasn't entirely capable of removing the worry from his voice at the thought that she might kill someone. "Please," Aziraphale extended his hand to her across Crowley. "Give me your hand."
"What? No." she said quickly. Lilith had to fight the urge to recoil. On some level, she thought he might smite her.
And with the most sincerity and kindness Lilith had ever seen reflected back at her through someone else's eyes, he said, "Please."
No one had ever spoken that kindly to her before. No one had ever shown genuine concern on her behalf, either. It was surprisingly uncomfortable, and yet...
For whatever reason, Lilith tentatively placed her hand in his. Almost immediately, she became awash with energy. All of the damage done to her by the Hellfire was gone in an instant as though it'd never happened.
It took less than a second, and still Lilith felt as though she'd spent months or more recuperating. She was rejuvenated, in fact, and couldn't fight the surprised breath that left her when she and Aziraphale let go of one another.
"Oh, wow." She breathed. As though seeing for the first time, Lilith looked over her hands, touched her face, and flexed her muscles. It was as though she'd been given new life. "Thank you." She told him genuinely.
Aziraphale smiled that little smile she'd seen before and nodded. "You're most welcome." He said. "It's the least I can do, really." His smile faltered a bit. "It's partially my fault you're like this."
"Oh, no." She shook her head after running her fingers through her hair. "No, it isn't. You were only following orders. Besides, it wasn't you who cursed me. You've nothing to apologize for."
"Really?" He seemed surprised. "You mean, you aren't angry with me for… attacking," he practically whispered the word, "you?"
"I was." She told him, noticing his face fall slightly when she had. "I was angry for a while, but it was a long time ago."
Lilith offered him a small smile which seemed to ease the angel's worries. She wasn't lying. She'd stopped blaming Aziraphale for stopping her murder of Adam eons ago. He had nothing to apologize for, especially now that he'd healed her. She only blamed God for everything.
A postman arrived not long after to take the talismans away. After taking away the bits in the box, the front of a bus shined in the distance.
"Oh," Aziraphale said curiously. "It says Oxford on the front."
"Yeah," Crowley sighed. "But he'll drive to London. Just won't know why."
"Hm. Suppose I should have him drop me off at my bookshop."
Crowley turned a sad expression to his friend. "The bookshop burned down, remember?"
Aziraphale appeared truly hurt by the fact, not quite heartbroken, but lost.
"You can stay at my place."
He smiled heavily. "I don't think my side would like that very much."
"You don't have a side anymore." Crowley told him. "None of us does. We're on our own side. Like Agnes said, we have to choose our faces."
Aziraphale seemed to fall deep into thought while Crowley flagged down the bus. Together, the three of them boarded and made their journey slowly home.
The following afternoon, while the world went about their business, Aziraphale and Crowley sat on the bench in the middle of the park, stretching and rolling their necks as they got comfortable in their own skin again.
"Tartan collar?" Crowley asked with a bit of a grimace.
"Tartan is stylish." Aziraphale defended.
Crowley pursed his lips and exhaled a breath, flapping them together once more.
"So," Aziraphale said in a semi-chipper tone. "Agnes Nutter's final prophecy was right on the money. I asked for a rubber duck." Crowley turned his head to see Aziraphale fighting a smile and losing. "I made the Archangel Michael miracle me a towel."
The pair shared a loud, happy laugh at that. Crowley could only imagine the horror written across Hell's face when they saw a version of him swimming in a tub filled with Holy Water. Michael must have been so shocked, too. It was likely the same horror Crowley was privy to with the angels.
He enjoyed it and the images it conjured up.
As the laugh died down, Crowley rolled his head toward his friend and spoke. "Well, they'll leave us alone, for a bit. For my money, they'll use this as breathing space before the big one."
Aziraphale's face dropped. "I thought that was the big one."
"Nah, for my money, the really big one will be all of us against all of them."
That sad expression took hold of Aziraphale's face once more, the expression that made Crowley pity him for having such a big heart.
"What?" He seemed incapable of accepting the words. "Heaven and Hell against… all of humanity?"
A brief wave of silence passed between them until Crowley spoke again.
"Right," he said with a little sigh. "Time to leave the garden. Can I tempt you to a spot of lunch?"
"Mmm," Aziraphale practically cooed. "Temptation accomplished." He teased. "Oh! Before I forget," He was quick to say when Crowley began to stand, "I invited Lilith to meet us. I hope that's alright."
Crowley looked at his friend curiously. "How'd you get into contact with her?"
"I'm an angel," he said with mock offense. "I can find anyone." Crowley knew better and arched a brow. Aziraphale cracked shortly after. "I found the number for her business in the telephone book."
That made more sense. At least, it made more sense than Aziraphale being omniscient.
"Doesn't bother me," he said, leaning forward and resting an arm on his knee so he could look back at Aziraphale. "Making friends with more demons, hm? Sounds like you're turning to the dark side." He mocked.
Aziraphale scowled a bit. "She helped us in the end, didn't she?" he said, defending himself once more. "It's the least I can do."
Crowley only smiled. He rather enjoyed flustering Aziraphale.
"When's she supposed to arrive then, hm?"
"Any minute, I suspect." Lilith said.
Their attention diverted to the spot in front of them where Lilith stood looking very unlike herself in a form-fitting, black, 50s-styled dress that had sleeves to the elbow and a hem to the knees. Her high heels were just as tall as the others she'd worn, but with her hair tied back in a complimenting style, and her lacey parasol expanded over her head, she looked out of time.
"Gentlemen." She greeted them both with a small nod.
"Well, look at you, all fancy." Crowley teased, exaggerating the word fancy just to help instill his point.
He saw her try to suppress a smirk, but over the edge of her sunglasses saw her arch a thin brow regardless. "Some of us prefer to wear more than one outfit every day. You should try it."
He mimicked offense which forced her smile to fully form.
"Well," Aziraphale rose, followed shortly by Crowley. "I think you look lovely."
Crowley rolled his eyes. Aziraphale was always the proper gentleman, no matter to whom or what he was speaking to.
"Thank you," she replied.
"We were thinking of having lunch. Would you care to join us?" Aziraphale asked politely.
"That'd be nice, yes."
Aziraphale offered his elbow which, to Crowley's surprise, Lilith accepted. He found it a bit odd that the two seemed so comfortable together, but then again, perhaps not. Perhaps Aziraphale still viewed her as that young woman from The Garden. Then again, he was polite to everyone.
Crowley took her other side and, since her hand was preoccupied holding her parasol over her head, he took her elbow into his hand. Together, the trio walked off looking the odd set.
"How about the Ritz?" Aziraphale asked. "It seems a table for three has just miraculously become available."
"Oh," Crowley said in a very un-Crowley-like way.
A young man in a vest with a perfectly pressed shirt and not a speck of dust on his uniform walked around the table pouring each of them a nice glass of champagne.
"You know," Aziraphale said as he took his flute into his hand. "I like to think that none of this would have worked out if you weren't, at least a little bit, a good person."
"And if you weren't," Crowley said, "deep down, just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing."
A very sincere smile spread across both of their faces while they shared their little moment. Lilith couldn't help herself.
"Oh, for everyone's sake," She said with a little scoff. "The two of you should simply kiss and get it over with." Lilith lifted her flute as well, "Finally give everyone what they've been waiting for."
The look of utter shock written across their faces caused her to smile wide. Aziraphale's shock soon turned to embarrassment, however. His cheeks even took on a very human hue of pink, which both Crowley and Lilith noticed. Crowley soon smiled as well, flashing his perfectly straight teeth when he had. He even went so far as to wag his eyebrows at the angel, deepening the red hue. Lilith giggled just a little.
Crowley, still seemingly musing over Aziraphale's reaction to Lilith's comment, lifted his champagne flute and held it over the center of the table.
"Cheers," he said.
Aziraphale came back to the moment, and nodded. He tenderly clinked his glass with Crowley's, followed shortly by Lilith's.
"Cheers," they both said.
"To the world." Crowley added, and they repeated. Each took a sip after.
Sitting together at a table draped with a pristine white cloth, with plates of treats and cakes spread throughout, and the sound of a piano in the distance, were an unlikely three: a snake, an angel, and a monster.