They were standing in a foreign place, but still… It felt familiar to them.
Standing at the edge of their world, the vast universe unravelled itself in all its splendour before them, and they were amazed by the beauty of the shinning points gleaming in the deep dark blue of the velvet sky.
A presence came behind them, murmuring a word that they assumed was their name, even if they couldn't understand it anymore. A smile graced their lips as two arms went to circle their waist, and they snuggled against the chest of their other half.
There was a low, soft chuckle.
"Did you miss me?" he asked, and they let themselves sink into the deepness of his voice.
"Maybe." They answered, "Do you?" the challenged and their other half made them spin so they were face to face.
His face was mere inches away from theirs, his lips hovering their red ones, and they could feel the movement as he talked.
"More than you could ever imagine…"
They smiled.
"So, what are you waiting for?"
The next moment, he put his lips on theirs, and it was perfect.
And then, Beelzebub woke up, the phantom feeling of his lips on theirs still lingering after the end of the dream, tears rolling down their cheek.
It took them a few moments to gather their wits, and they angrily wiped the wet marks with one hand, huffing and growling to themselves.
What kind of demon cry?! They barked themselves, Get a grip, you are a Prince of Hell, for Satan's sake!
As they stood up, a sharp pain made its way down their back, and Beelzebub had to grit their teeth, containing a moan of pain.
Even after all this time, the burning pain hadn't faded away…
Snapping their fingers, Beelzebub clothes changed to a new* black toga with a red strip crossing over their chest. Cracking their neck, the went into hell's busy hallway, their office as the final destination, flies buzzing and flying around their head.
Once they got there, their eyes fell upon a piece of paper waiting for them on the desk.
Taking it, the Prince of Hell read it with one raised eyebrow.
Seemed like their Lord finally decided to act for good.
"Crawly!" they didn't need to exit their office to be heard. They knew that no matter where the demon was, they would hear him.
A few seconds later, someone knocked at the door, and Beelzebub told them to came in.
"You asked for me, my lord?" asked the demon, mock-bowing in front of them, and the Prince groaned.
"Cut it with thizzz, Crawly." They snapped, "If I call you here izzz becauzzze our Lord az finally decided it wazzz time for us to act."
Showing the note from Satan, they continued, "Zeemed like She finally dezided to put her humanzzz in the garden." They spat, and Crawly arched an eyebrow.
"And?"
"And our Lord wantz one of uzz to get Up There and break zome havoc." They explained to him as if he was dumb, before smirking, "And you zeemed perfect for the job."
The lower demon frowned at them.
"So what am I supposed to do? Crawl up there, do some mischief to Her humans and be done with that?" said Crawly with a scowled, "Can't you someone else for once?"
"It'z not az if we could truzt other demonzz to do the job correctly.**" Answered Beelzebub, and Crawly groaned.
"Fine, fine, I'll do it! But next time, find another demon to do the dirty job!" he exclaimed before storming out the office, muttering to himself, and Beelzebub smirked before letting themselves fell into their thrones.
If Crawly did his job right, then the demons would prove to the Almighty that even if She had cast them from Her home, they were still able to mess up with Her plan, and that they'll never let Her, or Her precious angels, alone.
Beelzebub wanted to scoff at the stupidity of those who stayed loyal to Her.
The day they'll finally understand that She didn't care about them will come soon or later, and when it'll happen, they would be at the first row to watch them suffer from the realization.
Still, in a little, tiny part of their soul, there was a voice, a soft deep voice murmuring sweet words in their ears, the voice of someone who looked at them with such emotions in their purple eyes that they had the feeling that they meant everything in the world in the gaze of that person.
And as they wondered what those feelings could be, a sharp, burning pain shoot into their back, dragging them away from this track of thoughts, and Beelzebub curse once more Her name for the pain She inflected to them.
Gritting their teeth, they hoped that Crawly will do something that truly will create trouble Up There.
And no one, Angels or Almighty alike, will know was waiting for them.
*Or at least, as new clothes could be down in Hell.
**Well, to be exact, Beelzebub didn't trust Crawly. Demons didn't trust anyone, even each other. The fact was that Crawly was the only that they knew was kind of the most fitted for the job.
Crawly, or Crowley, as he could himself nowadays, truly did a good job back in Eden. And the commendation he received for the Fall of the Man had placed him in Satan's good grace for at least two millennia. He was a demon that the other could, ah… Trust to do the job correctly. That's why their Master had placed him on a permanent job on Earth.
Still, Beelzebub couldn't stop themselves from being suspicious. Crowley was a demon, after all, so, how could they trust him without someone to keep an eye on him?
And so, time to time, the Prince of Hell went on Earth to check on their representative. Either officially or informally. For the former, they sent another demon to do the job. For the later, Beelzebub preferred to do it themselves.
And it was during one of this informally visit on their representative that the Prince of Hell sent him.
Oh, he really did a good job at hiding his aura, and if Beelzebub hadn't been one of the most powerful demons of Hell, they wouldn't have known that they were there.
It was the Archangel Gabriel.
And as it seemed, the holier-than-thou being popped down time to time, sometimes when Beelzebub was on Earth too, sometimes not, and followed the demon's representative, watching him from afar.
And this puzzled Beelzebub. Why an Archangel would come down on Earth to watch a demon? Why didn't he try to kill him already?
Why did they look so sad…?
But what surprised them the most was the time they sensed the Archangel aura near them as Crowley and Heaven's representative were together in Roma.
On one hand, Beelzebub had heard of those interactions between the two, and they wondered if their demon would be able to tempt an angel and make him fall. On the other, the Prince of Hell couldn't understand why Gabriel didn't do a thing to stop him.
Just… Why?
They were intrigued by the Archangel, fascinated, even, and yet, they couldn't understand him.
So one day, sometimes around the eight century A.D, as they felt Gabriel's presence in an inn in Japan, they disguised themselves as a local courtesan, masking their aura, and sat next to him with a light giggle.
"Hello, there, stranger," she said in a perfect Japanese*, "I saw that you were all alone for quite some time, I hope you don't mind my company?" she asked, masking her face behind her fan, still revealing a little bit of her neckline.
The Archangel smiled at her, looking straight her eyes an nowhere else.
"Well, I suppose that a little bit of company won't do me any harm." He answered with a thick-English accent**, and the deepness of his voice sent shivers down her spine.
Why does it seem so familiar…?
"So, tell me, stranger, what brought you here?" she continued, trying to hide her trouble by pouring him a glass of sake.
"I needed a little vacation. My work is quite stressful and overwhelming, and the exoticism of this country was exactly what I needed. Oh, and please, call me Gabriel." He explained, and Beelzebub could discern, in the deepness of his purple eyes, the slight hint of a well-practised lie, and she rose an eyebrow at him.
"Well then, Gabriel," she purred, "You can call me Akane."
They spent hours in the inn talking about anything, and Beelzebub made a great show of being flirtatious with the Archangel who acted as if he didn't catch on her game.
And deep down, she was a little annoyed. Yes, she knew that Archangel was hardly corruptible, but there was something about Gabriel that send a familiar warmth through her body that she couldn't help herself but kept trying. And as the hours passed, the Archangel finally seemed to fall into her trap, and she smirked inside.
When the time came for the inn to close, Gabriel proposed to 'Akane' to escort her to her home. Taking the Archangel elbow between her hands, she let herself be led through the sleeping street, her head put against his shoulder.
She wasn't done with her plan of corrupting an Archangel.
Once they came across the house where she was currently living, 'Akane' turned toward Gabriel and smiled at him.
"It was a wonderful evening," she said before moving closer, putting her arms around his neck, "And I was hoping…" she murmured as she brought their face closer, "… That maybe you could…" a few inches separated their lips at this point, "…Come with me inside?" she asked, her lips shadowing his, and for a fraction of a second, she thought that she had won.
But the Archangel put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her away.
"I am sorry if I lead you to think that maybe something would happen between us, but I am in the obligation of declining your offer."
"And can I ask you why?" she pouted a little, biting her bottom lips.
What he said next was something that Beelzebub wasn't ready for.
"Because I am already in love with someone. And even if I could never be with them again, I will always be faithful to them."
And there was so much honesty, so much love in his eyes that Beelzebub believed him instantly. They knew that the Archangel could lie, but there was so much truth in those words that they could only accept the rejection.
And deep down, even if they couldn't understand why it hurt.
"Well then." They said in a pinched voice, "I bid you goodnight." Then, they turned around and walked away from him.
"I hope you'll have a good life." Was the last thing they heard from Gabriel before turning in the corner of the house, and the next second, they let themselves returned into their office in Hell, taking back their original appearance, and not knowing why they cried for hours as the pain in their chest didn't seem to lessen.
*As they had taken the attribute of a female, it seemed to be the logical thing to do to take the female pronouns as well,
**And Beelzebub supposed that the Archangel was playing through and through the "foreign visitor" card here.
After the incident, Beelzebub never returned on Earth themselves, always sending demons to check on Crowley and limiting their interaction with Upstairs as much as possible.
And the few times they had to deal with Gabriel (through letters and later phone calls), they were disturbed by the fact that the Archangel didn't act the same way he did back in Japan. He was cold, condescending, contempt, proud and such an arse that the only thing the Prince of Hell wanted to do was to rip his head off his neck. But of course, they couldn't.
And there was still this little, tiny part of themselves that couldn't believe that the Archangel was truly like that, that, somehow, it was an act, a well-crafted mask to hide his true self.
The second time Beelzebub saw Gabriel face to face was during the event leading to the failed Armageddon. It was strange to be in his presence, as his aura, somehow, seemed to soothe them, even if the Prince of Hell would always deny this fact.
But what shocked them the most was the fact the Archangel was lying.
Oh, he did a great job at hiding it, and if it weren't for the fact that Beelzebub was so powerful, they would have been fooled. But there was something in his eyes, as they discussed the fact that their entire army ere waiting for them back at their respective quarter, that told them that the Archangel was, in fact, quite pleased with the turn of events.
Even if they couldn't understand why.
And since then, the Prince of Hell was mussing about their discovery. Four years had passed since the Armageddon't and Crowley's failed trial, and Hell was back into their old routine, even if some demons seemed not so pleased about this fact.
Hastur had been one of them. He said that the Great Plan meant that a war between Heaven and Hell was meant to happen and that the two natives had simply found a way to mess with it.
Idiot had thought Beelzebub. Even if they weren't one of Her worshippers anymore, they knew better than to think that one angel and one demon would have been able to prevent something She had planned. If things had turned out this way, well… Maybe it was because it was meant to be this way…
There was a crashing sound outside their office, followed by cries, and Beelzebub frowned.
If some demons thought that they could do what they want when I'm not looking… they grumbled to themselves, slipping their vest on their shoulders and walking toward the exit.
Opening the door and walking into the main corridors of Hell, they called for calm in a loud voice.
"If you don't return to your pozt immediately before I finish thizz warning, then you are going to regret zze-!"
They weren't expecting the stabbing pain of a blade thrust in their back, tough.
Samael sat upon the ground, his legs against his chest as his hands covered his ears.
Maybe this way they'll finally shut up.
Rocking back and forth, he tried to make the voices disappear, biting his lower lips as tears threaten to fall from his eyes.
Shut up, shut up, SHUP UT!
But you know we are right…
No! You are lying! You…!
She doesn't care about you… She doesn't love you…
SHUT. UP!
With a cry, Samael let a powerful wave of power escape from his body, taking with it the voices that were murmuring restlessly in his head for quite some time now, and he welcomed the silence in his mind with open arms.
Shaking, the Archangel let a sob escape his lips as he let his body fall on the ground, his back against it as his face faced the blurry sky above him.
He didn't know how long he'll be able to endure it before falling apart for good. Even since She began to keep her distances with them, Samael hadn't been able to stop those thoughts from invading his mind.
This darker part of his soul who murmured twisted words at him.
Sometimes, it took the better part of him, and more than often, Samael found himself spreading the words that were haunting his mind, hoping that sharing them will help to soothe his tormented spirit…
How wrong he was…
He knew that he should talk about it to someone, anyone. He knew that Michael would listen to him, appease him, guide him to overcome the shadows of his mind, but he couldn't talk to her.
He was so ashamed by them.
How could he explain to her that, sometimes, he doubts? That he couldn't be certain of the Love God had for them? For him?
That he was scared of being forgotten?
Oh, but you will… She'll forget about you once she'll have created her so dearest humans… You are simply a toy between her hands, oh, how so easily forsaken from her love…
His hands pulled at his hair, nearly snatching some strands from his skull.
You are wrong, you are wrong, you are-
"Lucifer?"
Samael eyes opened at the sound of the familiar voice, and rubbing one hand against his face, called back.
"I'm here, Michael."
Footsteps came his way, and the next moment, the view he had of the sky was filled with his sister upside-down face.
Even from this perspective, he could saw her frown.
"Are you okay?" she asked with a hint of worry, and he smiled a little at her.
"Yeah, I'm fine." He answered a little shakily, "I simply needed to think a little, that all."
The older Archangel pouted a little before lying down on the ground, her head next to his even as her body was in the opposite way.
Both Archangels stayed like this a long time, gazing at the sky, watching the stars their youngest brother had hung on the deep blue velvet surrounding Heaven in silence.
Michael broke it first.
"Luci…?"
"Yes?"
"I'm worried about you."
Samael blinked several times before turning his head toward his sister, and he met Michael's upside-down blue eyes with his green ones.
Are that tears?
"Mickey?"
"Sorry, I…" murmured the older one, taking a shaking breath, "Is just that I heard the rumours, and I couldn't help but worry for you…"
Samael felt the familiar guilt he was carrying with him since the first shadow had spoken to him polled at the bottom of his stomach, and he reached one hand toward his sister's cheek.
"I should be the one to apologize." He said, wiping one treacherous tear with his thumb, "There's… There's a lot I have to think about… About the Humans, and Her leaving us, and…"
Michael hushed him, "You don't have to justify. You have your reasons, and I respect them. I can understand what it is to deal with a lot of pressure. Take all the time you'll need," she said with a soft voice, "Just… Just promise me that you'll talk to me if it became too unbearable, okay?"
She extended his pinky finger toward him, and he hooked his own to it with a small smile.
"Okay." He murmured, "I love you, Mickey." He added with a smaller voice.
And his older sister smiled brightly at him.
"I love you too, Lucifer."
Then, the voices became too much, and Samael lost himself to them.
When the Devil opened his eyes, everything hurt.
It took him some time to gather his spirit and swim out of the pool of sulfur he had fallen into, and once he was done, he began to bring back order to the crowed of rogue angels who had followed him in his Fall.
He could tell that She had done something to his memories, that something is wrong about what he remembered of Heaven, but he didn't care.
All he could feel was a burning, overwhelming hatred entirely turned toward his Creator who simply gets rid of those who didn't follow Her blindly. And at this moment, he made the vow that one day, he'll get his revenge.
"What are we doing now, My Lord?" asked a voice behind him, and the Devil turned to see the shorter form of a demon with flat black hair and flies buzzing around their head.
And for a moment, he was struck with the fact that they seemed oddly familiar, trustworthy.
"Now, we have to organize ourself into something less… Chaotic than this. If we want to take our revenge against Heaven, then we'll have to be more prepared than that."
"Yezz, My Lord," They said, bowing their head, "But, My Lord, can I azzk you a question?"
"Go on."
"How are we suppose to call you?"
The Devil paused a second to think about it.
Of course, he had forgotten his angelic name, courtesy of Her, but still, something was nudging at the back of his mind…
Lucifer…
It took him less than a half a second to decide not to use it. There was something more about it, something too untouchable for to him to use it as his demonic name.
He simply couldn't tarnish it…
"Satan." He finally said, "From now on, I am Satan, Your Lord and the King of Hell." He continued with a loud voice to the attention of all the demons present before turning his eyes on the black-haired demon.
"What's your name?"
"Beelzebub, Lord Satan," they said, bowing once more.
"Then I name you, Beelzebub, Prince of Hell and my Counselor," he declared to the crowd, "Their words are mine, as mine are theirs. You must answer to their orders as you'll have to answer to mine." And the demons bowed low to him.
Channelling his remaining powers (which were now so, so¸dark…) he raised his hands above his head then brought them down, and the space around them began to take a different shape, and slowly, but surely, Hell was created, encasing the pool of burning sulfurs in which they had Fallen earlier in their depth, waiting nothing less than new souls to torment for all eternity.
"Demons of Hell!" he exclaimed, "We, who have been forsaken by Her, pushed aside like puppets She had grown bored of, will one day rise against God and take our revenge for the wrong She did to us and make Her so faithful and loyal angels for disregarding us as they did! We will prove to them that we are better than Her and soon enough, Her reign over Creation will come to an end!"
His declaration was followed by a loud clamour, cries of rage and rebellion echoing through the entire Hell, and a smirk made his way upon Satan lips.
She's going to pay for the suffering She caused…
The lower demon didn't have the time to react before he was crash against the nearest wall, his face mere inches of his Lord's, fury shinning in his red eyes.
"WHERE DID YOU HEARD IT?!" Satan roared, and the demon in his grip shrivelled in his grip.
"A-A rumour, My L-Lord. Th-They say it's y-your real demonic name and…-"
"ENOUGH!" cut vehemently Satan, bringing one of his hand high above his head, hellfire dancing between his fingers.
Even if it couldn't kill a demon, Satan's fire was enough to bring them pain for several centuries.
"I'll make an example out of you, and if I EVER heard someone utter this name ever again, I promise them a fate far worse than death…"
The screams of the demon reverberated through the hall of Hell for several hours. And once he was done, no one ever dared to even think of name Lucifer.
Satan was still fuming when he returned to his office. Still, he paused a second when he saw a familiar face supporting himself against his desk.
"What do you want?" he asked quite rashly, and the demon raised one eyebrow behind his sunglasses.
"It is how you greet one of your favourite demons?" said Crowley with a mock-hurt tone, "And I who thought that you've missed me, after all, it had been quite some time since last time I went back Down Here."
Rubbing one hand against his eyes, Satan let himself fell into his throne with a sight,
"I'm too tired to deal with your witty remarks, Crowley. You're lucky that I have already released my anger against another demon, or you'll face my wrath."
"Yeah, I heard that." Nodded Crowley, putting one finger in his ear as if he tried to get rid of something with it, "Been a long time since I heard such screams. What did he do to cause you to lose it like that?"
Satan mumbled something.
"Sorry, what was that?"
"He called me 'Lord Lucifer'."
"Oh."
Crowley was well aware of the existence of this name. And he knew better than to think that it was Satan's former name. He knew that his Lord had some kind of fascination with it, and it was only because he seemed to trust him so much that he told Crowley about it.
Somehow, the Serpent of Eden was flattered that the Lord of Hell didn't accuse him of spreading it. Trust was a weakness in Hell, and still, Satan seemed to trust him, he and Beelzebub. More than once, he had proposed him to join him in his council of Darkness, but Crowley always declined the invitation, claiming that he'd preferred his job on Earth than any kind of hight position in Hell.
Moreover, they didn't have someone like his angel Down there, no that he was going to tell his Master anytime soon.
He miracled a bottle of red wine.
"Care for a drink?" he asked, and Satan tried to smile at him, which looked more like a smirk than anything else.
"Do you really need to ask that question?" and Crowley laughed.
For Satan, the demon Crowley always had been a strange case. Like Beelzebub, he had that feeling in the back of his memory who pushed him toward the lower demon. Something familiar that Satan tried his best to ignore, as it would ruin his reputation as King of Hell if a demon ever learned that he cared about someone.
Truth was that he did.
He quickly supposed that he knew the demon Before, because if not, then he would have been just another minions at his disposition in his Kingdom. And as far as he was concerned, they were close.
But the Devil also knew that Crowley true allegiance didn't lie with him. As he had often said, he didn't so much fall per see, much as saunter vaguely downwards. And Satan knew that his time passed on Earth was slowly, but surely, cutting his ties with Hell.
And he didn't blame him.
Long ago was the time the Devil felt the ache of rage in his chest against God. Several millennia had passed since then, and the weight of ruling an entire kingdom had taken his toll on him and, somehow, he had the feeling that he was now wiser than he ever was.
Oh, he didn't like God, that for sure, and he still resented Her from casting him and his demons out of Eden. But he didn't feel the need to have his revenge anymore, to destroy Heaven for good.
As humans made their way through History, Satan had finally understood that they needed balance to live. That for Hell to exist, Heaven must be there. And even if he'd prefer to die before admitting it, the idea of destroying Heaven wasn't one that he particularly liked. But he knew he had a duty and that his personal feeling couldn't prevent him from fulfilling it.
There was a pop behind him, and the Devil sighed when he felt the aura emanating from it.
Taking the scroll in his hand, he broke the seal and after quickly scanning it, went to work.
It was a command. A command from Higher, higher than Heaven.
The Great Plan must begin.
Sighing, he put the scroll back on his desk and sat in his throne.
And as he worked his magic between his hand, he wondered about Crowley.
Poor lad, he'll have to fight against his angel in the end, it seemed. But well, it was the way of things, and no one could prevent the inevitable.
There was a cry, and Satan looked down to watch for the first and last time in eleven years the face of his son.
The End of the World didn't happen.
His son disregarded him as his father.
Everything was exactly like they were before, at the exception of one demon and one angel who were now on a third side of their own.
And Satan was simply too tired to really care.
He knew that Crowley should have been paying for his treason, but his failed trial four years ago was proof enough that he was out of reach. He and his precious angel.
Satan scoffed at that thought.
The serpent of Eden managed to tempt an angel, but couldn't make him fall! Instead, it had been the demon who fell for the angel. What an irony!
The Devil, on the other hand, had to deal with the aftermath of Adam's rejection, which had lessened his powers to some extent and which he hadn't still totally regained, but also with those of the Almostappocalypse. Getting Hell back into his previous state of work had been a tiring experience, but after a few months, everything seemed to run smoothly. And Satan surprised himself dreaming that this kind of peace would last a few hundred years before something new happened.
But it was a lot to ask.
Suddenly, the Devil felt something. Something wrong in the foundation of the Hierarchy of Hell.
Frowning, he gathered all his power, making himself appeared more imposing, and went out of his office toward the source of the Chaos.
He didn't expect to find his Prince of Hell on the ground, holding their hands against a bleeding wound, neither the demon that tried to attack him from behind.
"I… I can't believe they would…!"
"It's over, dear. I'm fine, We're fine now."
"Even Hell had the decency of giving me… You… Something akin to a trial! And you, nothing! They were simply going to put you in the Hellfire and be done with it!"
A sigh, "I know, my dear, but that's Heaven for you…"
"And this bastard… He dared to tell me "Shut your stupid mouth, and die already!" He is lucky that I had a role to play, or I would have punched him straight into his stupid face…"
A soft hand on his arm.
"I… Gabriel…-"
"Don't even try to find him some kind of excuse."
Another sigh, "I won't… It's just… I remembered a time when he was… more gentle, in a way. Would you believe me if I told you he was the one who welcomed me to live when the almighty created me? There was this look in his eyes… I think the War had some kind of effect on him that twisted in him the way he is now."
"You know him from Before?"
A low chuckle, "No, I'm a second generation's angel. I never knew the War, but from what I gathered from them… From you… I'm happy to never have to deal with something like this."
The demon took two steps forward and hugged him.
"You're far too kind for your own good, Angel."
Two arms circles the demon back, "Thank you, my dear."
"Do you have any memories of Before?"
"No, and from what I've seen of Heaven, maybe it's for the better."
"It wasn't always this way, you know."
A pause.
"I remember being loved."
"By Her?"
"No, not exactly. Someone loved me oh so very much- Hey, don't give that look angel! I can assure that it's not the way you think it is."
A very-not-conviced look was his only answer.
"Look, from the faint echoes I have, it's more like… I had a family…"
"…I'm sorry, my dear."
"Don't be, angel, don't be.
When Crowley opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was the sleeping face of Aziraphale.
His Aziraphale.
Oh, the angel still didn't sleep as much as Crowley, but he seemed to have found quite a liking to it, time to time, mostly since he and the demon had begun moved together three years ago.
A ray of sunlight fell into his blond locks, making them shine like an halo, and once more, Crowley found himself breathless. He was lucky to have Aziraphale in his life, and more than once, he wondered how did he manage to find the only one person in the entire universe who seemed to fit him so well.
Leaning a little forward, he let his lips brush the angel's forehead, and a small chuckle escaped him when he heard him sighed with delight.
Aziraphale stirred a little, and then, his lids opened ever so slightly to reveal to the world the most azure eyes that ever existed.
"Hello angel," murmured Crowley, and Aziraphale smiled at him.
"Hello, my love." He answered before leaning toward the demon and kissing him on lips.
Crowley's eyes shut, and he let himself, once more, being enchanted by the ever so sweet taste of his angel and his intoxicating scent.
He felt the other one hand rest upon his chest when the demon drew him between his arms, never breaking the contact of their lips.
Compared to others, this was, by far, very chaste, but that didn't lessen all the love they felt for each other a bit.
They finally let go of each other, and after a few minutes of cuddling under the blankets, they get up and went into their familiar routine since they moved into their small cottage in South Downs.
Crowley had, at the begging, a hard time to wrap his head around the idea that they had adverted the Appacalyspe in the first few months following the event of Tadfiel Air Base and fooled both Heaven and Hell with their little swap. So many things could have turned how so wrong, but they didn't, and less than twenty-four hours after the Amargeddon't, both angel and demon were free from their respective side. It had taken some time to sink in, time and a lot of alcohol, but within two months, they had finally felt the weight of the fear of a punishment being lifted from their shoulders.
Then, it had become a little weird.
It was easy to hide someone feelings and uneasiness for six thousand years behind the argument of 'what if our side discover we are friends/fraternizing/acquaintances'? But once it had disappeared, Crowley had to face the fact (that he had acknowledged centuries ago, mind you) that he'll have to deal with his feelings for his best friend sooner rather than later.
And even if he had been the one to be accused of being too fast, maybe he had been a little too slow for his angel when one evening the ethereal being simply shout a 'screw it' in the middle of one of their discussion and promptly kissed him on the lips in the next moment.
The scene happened six months after The End that Wasn't, and six months later, they had moved from London to their current living place.
And now, four years after the Amargeddon't, Crowley was quite pleased with how his life had turned.
The cottage was wide enough to host the two of them, as well as one spare bedroom in case of necessity. One kitchen was there for the sake of appearances*, one living room filled with several bookshelves and Aziraphale favourite armchair from his bookshop in Soho**.
A wide garden surrounded the cottage, along with a greenhouse in the back, in which Crowley could grow all the plants and flowers he wanted, hissing between his teeth threats at them since Aziraphale had heard him shout at his plants and severely reprimanded him.
They also had kept in touch with Adam and the Them, and by extension with Anathema and Newton. Crowley became quite fond of the children, and Aziraphale liked the discussion he could have with the young witch time to time while sipping a cup of tea.
As for Sergent Shadwell and Mrs Tracy, well, Crowley knew that they had decided to go to live in the countryside, maybe to enjoy their retirement together away from the troubles of the city. And frankly, the demon hoped the best for both of them.
All in all, life since the Appocawasn't had been sweet and calm and good, and Crowley should have known better than believed that fate would leave them, his angel and him, alone for the rest of eternity.
When later this day there was a loud commotion into their sitting room, both angel and demon rushed inside to find a scene of chaos.
On the ground were two figures, one bleeding profusely and the other trying to keep them up, one of their arm put around the later shoulder. A scent of sulfur could be smelled in the room.
Next to him, Aziraphale went stiff, recognizing who exactly had appeared in the middle of their house.
"Is… Is that…"
"Beelzebub and Satan, yes." Hissed Crowley, his gaze never leaving the two beings on the ground.
Beelzebub was the one bleeding on their carpet, and they were held in the arms of a human-looking-Devil whose black hair fell messily before his eyes, half masking red eyes filled with panic. A bruise was forming on his left check as dried blood was stuck under his nose.
"I am asking for a Sanctuary." Declared suddenly the Devil, looking straight into their eyes, and the weight of his words fell upon the cottage, waiting for an answer to the request.
Crowley was shocked. He never imagined this kind of situation to happen. The Devil was asking for a sanctuary in their house? The Devil needed protection? Too many questions were crashing in his head and…
G-… S-… Somebody, is he shaking?
Suddenly, he felt one hand being put against his arm, and his gaze lifted to make contact with Aziraphale's.
The angel nodded imperceptibly, and even if his eyes seemed quite terrified, he looked determined.
Still being an angel, he had a duty toward those in need, those who'll ask for his help. But he wanted answers too, and he'll get them, one way or another.
Swallowing, Crowley looked back at his former Master.
"And a Sanctuary we shall grant you." He answered, and those words tied the four of them together, and a feeling of doom polled in the bottom of Crowley's stomach.
I have a bad feeling about this.
*But also because Crowley discovered he quite liked cooking meal for his angel, only to see the delighted smile he gave him as he ate.
**Both Aziraphale and Crowley still had their respective place in London, just in case they needed to return there. Moreover, the cottage didn't have enough space to contain all the books Aziraphale had.