After that moment on the roof, Barnaby felt like going to bed early. He was exhausted both mentally and physically, and just needed a break. A few hours escape from this world would do him some good. Aziraphale had offered to buy Barnaby a pair of pajamas at the store, but the boy had insisted that he was fine with the sweater. He liked the soft cashmere feel and the faint scent of Aziraphale's cologne. It was warm and safe like a small child's security blanket. But even with his blue comfort Barnaby fell felt uneasy. His small stomach twisted in knots, and shadows seemed to crawl forward from long shadows on the wall.
"Please don't go," he begged barely louder than a whisper. Aziraphale had his hand on the door, just about to leave the room.
"You want m-" Confused, Aziraphale looked back at the bed. Since he had little experience with children, a fear of the dark or even night-terrors were practically unheard of to the principality. But when he looked down at the small face, the fear and anxiety was easy to see. "Of course I can,"
The angel sat down next to Barnaby. Wordlessly, the small form shifted, resting his head on the Aziraphale's lap. The boy curled up in a cocoon of his own feathers and blankets, moving closer to his guardian's side. Aziraphale was first person Barnaby could actually say he felt safe with. With the others there had only been cruelty and cold detachment, the idea of such warmth and caring seemed seemed almost impossible to the young mind. Like all of this was a sweet dream that he would soon awake from. Now that Barnaby knew what he had missed for all those years, he was terrified of losing it again. That all his newfound joy and happiness would be ripped from his hands. He could feel hot tears welling up at the thought.
But those tears never fell. A gentle hand rubbed calming circles into the child's back. Aziraphale idly repeated the small motion, occasionally smoothing out the fluffy down of Barnaby's hawk-like wings. The soft touch almost instantly steadied the boy, muscles wound tightly relaxed back and his small hand released the death grip it had on the blankets. But even so, it was awhile before Barnaby finally gave into the lull of sleep.
Aziraphale didn't dare move. Barnaby was softly snoring on his lap and he could see the rhythmic rise and fall of the boy's chest. But Aziraphale couldn't join him. The angel was never a sleeper anyway, it always made him feel exposed and helpless. You couldn't defend yourself if you're unaware of the threat. He had no idea why Crowley liked it so much. Besides, he'd promised Barnaby that he would look after him no matter what. So, there Aziraphale sat in his silent vigil, looking out into the night.
That morning they made sure to water Crowley's plants early. Barnaby was practically begging to go back and Aziraphale wanted to open the shop today anyway. It was a nice little trip and after they had a spot of had never paid much attention to A.Z Fell and Co. before, he usually just passed though. It wasn't like he could read the books anyway. But it did have a certain appeal, the whole place felt welcoming and calm. He pondered this as Aziraphale flipped the closed sign over to open.
"I'm opening the store for the rest of the day. You can help if you want,"
Barnaby rather liked running the store, it made him fell useful. Aziraphale showed him how to fix the backs of old book and exactly where they went on the large shelves. The books themselves had little interest to the boy, but they seemed to have a lot to Aziraphale. What made them so special Barnaby had no idea, but they must be for his guardian to like them so much. Busy doing little tasks where needed, he was surprised when the little bell above the door rung.
Barnaby's first instinct was to run when she walked in, but the calm manner Aziraphale had towards the stranger made him stay.
"Hello there Jane, school out already?"
"Gets out at 2:15 every day, remember,"
Jane was a strange girl, the tenth year student was always hanging around old shops after school, and Aziraphale's was her favorite. Most of his regulars were elderly folks with nothing better to do, so it was always a bit odd. The angel didn't know why but she never seemed to want to go home. Jane was a nice girl though, always reading something. He had already lent her his Victor Hugo collection twice and each time they were returned in perfect condition. Jane never bought anything, just browsed or sometimes sat and read in the corner.
"Who's this?" she asked finally noticing Barnaby. He was standing in one of the isles not entirely sure of what to make of the teenager.
"My nephew, Barnaby. He's staying with me for a bit,"
"Hi Barnaby," she smiled, bending down so they were eye to eye. Not knowing what to do he just gave a small wave in return. Lucky for Barnaby, the ringing of Jane's phone interrupted any more awkwardness. She brought it up to her ear and filched a little. It wasn't' much of a conversation from this end, just a few weary conformations and an I'm sorry. After a few minutes Jane hung up and turned to Aziraphale.
"I have to go Mr. Fell, my parents want me home," she grumbled. Seeming a little disheartened, the teenager left almost as quickly as she arrived. Just another one of Aziraphale's strange customers. Plenty of other strange characters stopped in the store that day. Like Mrs. Greene who swore her cats could talk, or Mr. Blackman who thought it was still 1987. But no matter how quirky, Aziraphale treated each one patiently and with respect. He would calmly answer any question, or ask Barnaby to grab a book for them. And that was why they always came back, not for the books or the prices, but for the genuine kindness.
The day was coming to a close, a customer hadn't come in some time and there wasn't much to do. Barnaby was sitting behind the front desk flipping through a comic book he found in his shoe box. He couldn't read the words, but it was fun to try and guess what was happening in the colorful pictures. A hot pink heroine was fighting a knotted shoelace monster for some reason. Barnaby just couldn't seem to figure out why. Above him Aziraphale sat quietly working on the shop records, marking down purchases and general expenses.
The little bell interrupted the silence with a chime. Barnaby tried to jump up to greet the newcomer but a strong hand held him down. Confused the boy looked up at his guardian, but Aziraphale's eyes were locked on the well-built stranger. He had flaming red hair and sauntered in like a shark who caught the scent of fresh blood. Except what really unnerved the angel were the eyes, they had a cold hatred deep-set within them the kind that grows over long hard years. The same eyes that blazed at the angel from behind the muzzle of a handgun that night. But Aziraphale refused to show any fear.
"Can I help you with anything, sir?" he asked forcing a smile. The man looked him up and down but showed no recognition.
"I wanted to ask some questions about two nights ago," the stranger growled with a slight Irish accent. Barnaby stiffened just out of sight.
"Sorry I was out of town on Monday, why?" If this stranger didn't remember him it would be best to keep it that way, thought Aziraphale.
"A boy went missing from the local mental hospital and we think he went this way, " an obvious lie.
"No children to be found around here, no sir,"
"I wanted to come in yesterday but you were closed. Why was that?"
"I was felling a bit under the weather, so I never opened shop. I guess everyone has those days," Aziraphale could feel his heart trying to escape his chest.
The man narrowed his eyes Aziraphale then handed him a slip of paper. A barely legible phone number was scribbled on it in blue ink.
"Call me if you see anything," he ordered more than asked. Taking one final look the red-head turned to leave.
"And to what name should I ask for?" an Idea popped into Aziraphale's head.
"Cain," The Irishman answered without looking back. Cain headed outside and straight into the shop next door, leaving a tense air in his wake. That name wouldn't help much, even if it was real. Without a last name it would be impossible to dig up anything form records. Aziraphale felt Barnaby shaking under his hand. The boy looked up at the angel with wide eyes.
"Did he see me?" Barnaby asked voice quivering.
"No and don't worry, I don't think he remembered me either," Aziraphale gathered Barnaby in his arms and quickly headed up to the apartment. He couldn't risk Cain walking past again and seeing Barnaby. The boy was still shaking and turning paler by the second, his heart beating out of control.
"Don't worry he won't come back, he doesn't even know you're here," Aziraphale tried. But Barnaby didn't seem to be listening, the child was starting to hyperventilate. Pulling him into his lap Aziraphale rocked him back and forth. Barnaby barley registered the action. They had finally found him and were coming to take him away, he was sure of it and it terrified him. A long time passed before he started to calm down. Pure fear slipped away along with his panic attack, and he began to remember where he was. He was safe in the cozy little apartment with Aziraphale. It was going be okay.
"Would you like some coca, dear?" Aziraphale offered. In his experience a warm drink was the best remedy for someone in shock. The angel pulled himself off the couch but stopped a the window. A black van had pulled up to of the shop and another wasn't far behind. The back door of the first van opened and half a dozen men piled out, Cain included. A panic began to rise in the angel's chest. He dashed back to the sofa and grabbed Barnaby's hand.
"You have to go," He ordered practically dragging he boy down the hall.
"Why?" choked Barnaby. But there was no need to answer, bellow them the front door was slammed open and the sound of boots shook the floor.
"Go to the flat and wait for me there,"
"But what about you?" The stomping of boots were coming up the stairs now.
"I'll meet you there, just go!" Aziraphale pushed the boy toward the door to the roof and turned back. Barnaby took the steps two at a time, everything in him screaming to go back and help Aziraphale. But he trusted the principality and if he was told to leave, he had to listen. The metal door was heavy and Barnaby had to use all his weight to crack it open. But he manged and found himself on the dark roof. It was a cloudy night and the rain beginning to fall. The wind whipped his hair and would be difficult for even an experienced flier. Even so he stripped off his raincoat and held it in his hands, spreading out his wings to their fullness.
The metal door slammed open behind him revealing Cain. The Irishman lunged at Barnaby aiming for his russet wings. But the boy was already in the air, barely escaping the strong hands. Taking like a fish to water he entered the storm. Bellow, Cain lashed out his hands toward the figure just out of reach, screaming his frustrations like a caged animal. But the angered cry never reached Barnaby's ears. He was too deep in the maelstrom, just trying to keep the wind under his wings.
Sorry this took so long to get this out, I wanted to post this yesterday but the Fourth of July kind of messed that up. Anyway, I hope you fellow Americans had a great Fourth, and an amazing day for the rest of you. And yes I know this chapter has quite a twist in it, I did say adventure/family in the description. Thank you for reading. 3