(A/N) Hello again, my dears! So sorry these take so long. I'm just recovering from the stress of being a retail worker during the holiday season. Heheh, good times, good times. Again, I've loved hearing the stories you've all shared with me and I'm glad I've touched your lives in some way with my own. For a bit here, things will only get more difficult, but I hope my little story continues to be a comfort for all of you.
I Knew You'd Be Our Angel
Chapter 3: But Somewhere in My Wicked, Miserable Past
Now
It was roughly two weeks following the baby shower that Crowley found himself back in his flat. While Aziraphale still kept hours at the bookshop, the demon found himself increasingly keeping to their cottage rather than venturing into London. The cottage, they were relatively certain, was safe. Everywhere else? Well, everywhere else required a little work.
And he did that work diligently when he arrived at his place, weaving the subtle but necessary changes in the fabric of reality to prevent himself showing up on either radar. While neither he nor Aziraphale were technically attached to Heaven or Hell any longer, that also made it somewhat difficult to keep tabs on who was trying to kill them at any given moment. Not that that list was ever short, of course, but still...it was nice to be in the know.
He couldn't say what it was that had drawn him out. Probably just going stir crazy being cooped up. Which was interesting, because he distinctly remembered being exhausted at this stage the...
...the first time around.
And wasn't it interesting as well that just being back on Earth for a month had already felt like a year to him? Days, weeks, months, even years and decades; it was all chump change to him. Nothing at all. But these last few weeks had just been dragging by. Pregnancy really did make you crazy.
"Crazy and stupid," he muttered to himself as he moved about the flat, looking for who knew what. He shouldn't be here. He knew it...but...something just...drew him.
"I don't know how to explain it," he grumbled, not really sure who he was talking to. Figuring he just needed to be doing something, he went for a mister, cursorily watering his plants, even though they were their usual miraculously verdant selves. "Aziraphale better not have been spoiling you lot."
It wasn't the plants that had drawn him out, though. At least he didn't think so. There was just...something.
"The- other lot...maybe," he said, glancing uncertainly down at his midsection. He was getting to a point where he noticed. Still not anything physical. It was more that he didn't have to search to find the new presence within his own. That living flame didn't seem to be two distinct flames yet, but he supposed it wouldn't be if this was only the second month. Perhaps they were making him stupid?
"So what do you want?" he asked aloud. "What do you want out here that can't be got at the cottage?"
Happy.
The thought hadn't come from him. He knew that much. That was ...it? Them? He and she? The it that would one day be a them?
"Happy?" he returned, confused. "'fraid I- don't quite follow."
You're not happy.
"Course I'm not happy. I'm a demon; I'm never happy...except...when I'm with your father, anyway," he conceded with a shrug. "Worried...frustrated...sad...scared...Satan, I am so scared," he ground out bitterly, spritzing water in ever-widening circles. "Not just scared for you, but...scared I can't- love you like I should...after I lost your sister," he admitted, voice some twist of a growl and a small cry. Really, he was only confessing to this now because he didn't imagine he was being properly understood. He was so distracted with his own rambling, he almost didn't notice his latest spray of water.
Rainbow.
The violent spray of water droplets through the air caught the light in an arc before him, their colors falling in the painfully familiar pattern of a rainbow. The demon felt something in him twist in grief and anger as his attention shot upward.
"What is that?" he demanded in a low voice, not truly expecting an answer, but fairly certain She could hear, just the same. "Is that meant to be some sort of sick joke? Because if it is, it is in very poor taste!" he snarled.
He remembered the first rainbow a little too well. He remembered the interplay of light upon rain-washed air after Aziraphale's ridiculous platitudes about promises. He'd known even then he would never be able to forget it. So bright and colorful, meant to serve as some sort of deep-seated idea of beauty...it was like some abusive mother's gaudy, sickening display of contrition after a beating.
Oh. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to. I was just so angry. Here. Look. I promise it will never happen again.
He recalled reading somewhere that humans referred to children born after the loss of another child as rainbow babies. He could see where they might take comfort from the idea, but him...mostly it just made him feel sick.
"And that's just the worst joke of all, isn't it. Rainbows. I don't need any promises from you, old mum," he growled, almost threatening, for all the good such intentions would do him. "About six thousand years too late for that. We can handle this just fine on our own."
"Well, that's good to know, Traitor."
When speaking of the incident later, Crowley would at least be able to say that he didn't yelp or cry out. Neither did he jump or turn around. All he could seem to do in that moment was stand there, frozen to the spot, with the sound of that voice in his ear and a gush of liquid fear pouring down his metaphorical spine. When he finally managed to turn and face the voice's owner, it was with that frigid coil of sheer terror permeating his entire being.
"Lord Beelzebub."
"Oh, don't insult me with the title, snake. I know it means less than nothing to you," the prince of hell snapped at him, though the expression on their face quickly shifted from annoyed to taunting. "I do love what you've done with your hair, though. Didn't realize you were growing it out again. But then, I suppose three months in captivity will do that to a person."
...every atom, even the most intangible bits of his being, all of it in agony...
...screaming in pain as divine fire tore through him. Just because it couldn't seem to kill him didn't mean it wasn't painful...
...Michael's gloating sneer while observing Iruel's latest attempt at separating them. "Why would it even need to be a complete being? You would think it would be easier to remove while still developing."
"You'd think, but nothing about this little bastard's ever been easy."
...screaming...screaming...always screaming...
"Do you think your precious boyfriend will save you? Aziraphale can't help you now. If you want to see him again, you'll give this blasphemous creature up."
...whispered denial. He couldn't give their little one up. He wouldn't! He spat in Uriel's face...
"NAAAAGHH!"
...and he heard her cry...her tiny, helpless cry. She needed him. He couldn't let them take her-
"Let me hold her. Let me hold her just once!"
L'estelle!
"What are you doing here?" he demanded in a sharp voice, struggling to throw off the memories, because he would be damned a second time if he allowed himself to break down now. "How did you even find me?"
"I didn't. I just knew you'd come back here eventually. So I waited. As for why that is, I thought I'd congratulate you on your latest holy terror. Or should I say terrorzz?"
They knew.
Fuck. . !FuckFuckFUCK! They bloody fucking knew!
"Good news travels fast," he said, voice just a touch higher than normal. "Particularly, given that Aziraphale and Adam destroyed the Guf Records. If Heaven can't even keep track, how did you find out?"
"Well, that's for me to know and you to...not know," they responded with a shrug and an ugly smile. "Heaven had their chance to claim your offspring. Now it'zz our turn."
"Your turn?" Crowley repeated in quiet dread. If Heaven had unleashed Hellish horrors in its efforts to take his daughter from him, he didn't want to know what tortures Hell itself could unleash toward that end. Even so...whatever threat the prince was going to offer up against him and Aziraphale, against their children, he knew he was prepared to go through everything he had gone through already and worse...because they were his. He was not going to give up the family he'd struggled so long for without a fight. Not after losing L'estelle. "If you think I'm just going to give over, you've got another thing-"
"Pleazze don't go into the whole 'I'd die for them' schtick. Action hero doesn't suit you, Crowley. Let me speak a language you will understand. Insurance," the demon prince started to explain, beginning to circle him.
"Insurance?" he pressed, fighting not to turn, to follow their path. He simply waited for them to step back into his field of vision.
"Just so. You do something for us and we'll do something for you. That's how it's alwayzz been, hasn't it?"
"What sort of something did you have in mind, Beelz?"
"Give them to us and we won't kill them. We won't kill you either."
"That- doesn't really sound like insurance to me."
"Oh, it izz," they said as they finally came back around to face him. "'s'not my fault you haven't figured it out yet."
"Insurance against who? Heaven?"
"Guess again."
"But...who else is there?"
"Who indeed?" the demon lord returned with a knowing leer, beginning to move into his personal space, reaching out a hand toward his middle. "I'm offering you a deal here, Crowley. Now either you take that deal or I can just drag all three of you back with me now, if you'd rather have tha-"
Before the prince of Hell could lay even a single finger on his body, Crowley was reacting. He'd removed a small glass sphere from a chain around his neck and, with Beelzebub not even a centimeter away from him, he pressed the little thing up against the side of their head.
"You're not laying one finger on either of them, my lord," he hissed, eyes flashing as they looked into theirs. "Don't suppose you have to guess what's in here."
"Holy water," they returned, not really a question, a look that was both amusement and a little fear twisting those eyes.
"Yup. Now you turn around and you walk out of here, don't look back even once, and I won't have to use my husband's present. But if that hand touches flesh, I swear by his stylish tartan bowtie, I will end you," he promised, his voice leaving his throat as a low growl.
"Right," they said, their look continuing to be some odd mix of amusement and fear. "Because that won't hurt you anymore...will it."
"Not a jot," he said, only partly lying, as he had learned the hard way that, while pregnant at least, holy water could not destroy him.
As Beelzebub backed away from him, he continued to hold the little sphere out, ready to use it if they gave him cause. They continued backing away with that same strangely mixed expression, not turning until they'd actually reached the door, and when they did turn, they didn't leave right away; just stood in the doorway.
"I wouldn't go getting attached, Crowley. Whichever side claims them, they'll be lost to you. One way or another, there izz going to be a war, and you're already on the wrong side of it."
Then they were gone, leaving Crowley alone, frozen in place, hand still outstretched with the little sphere between his fingers. He couldn't say how long he stood like that, struggling to not shake apart altogether.
"Sides," he muttered to himself when he was finally capable of making himself speak again. "Why does it always have to be sides?"
He struggled back several steps, not quite making it to the desk before his legs gave out on him, his fingers just brushing the edge of it as he went down. For a long while, he just sat there, huddled against the desk...shocked...trembling. Who knew how long he sat, helpless like that, before he managed to make himself pull out his cell phone. It was a battle with himself just to get a call through.
"A.Z. Fell's b-"
"They know," Crowley interrupted Aziraphale before he could get out anymore of his little speech.
"I- Crowley?" the angel pressed, worry immediately threading through his voice.
"Angel, they know," he tried again.
"Who? What do they know?"
"Hell. Hell knows about the twins," he said, voice more of a whisper now.
"Oh. Crowley, dearest, where are you?"
"Mayfair...the flat."
"What on Earth are you doing there?"
"Dunno, I just...Angel..." he kept trying, not having much success in making his mouth obey him.
"Stay where you are. I'll be there in a moment."
And for all Crowley could tell, it really was just a moment. Whether it was an hour or a minute, it all felt the same to him. Sitting there trembling in misery, unable to summon the cool, indifferent exterior he'd perfected so well over the years. All in all, he was just left wondering if death really might be preferable at this point.
But then Aziraphale was gathering him in his arms.
"Oh, darling," the angel fussed, holding him close. "What happened? What have they done?"
Immediately, Crowley was clinging to him, not caring whether he seemed weak or not, just relieved his angel was there...that he wasn't alone anymore.
"Beelzebub...was here. I dunno how, but they bloody knew. Said that...if we gave the kids up...none of us would be killed."
"Well, that's just- it's monstrous. How could Hell ever expect you to say yes?"
"After what- happened with Heaven...I can see where they'd think it could be a possibility," he conceded, nuzzling into Aziraphale's neck, just breathing in the scent and the life and the nearness of him. "But I would- actually die first...before I handed our kids over to either of them."
"Oh..." Aziraphale started, clearly upset by the idea. "Let's- let's get you sitting up, shall we?"
Once Crowley had nodded his consent, Aziraphale actually lifted him in his arms, carrying him around to the throne and settling him on it. Before long, he was pressing a glass of water into his hands. Briefly, the demon eyed the glass...such a human thing...a glass of water after an upset of any sort. A year ago, he might've laughed at the notion he would ever need such a thing. But while carrying, he'd found himself much more subject to the whims of his human form than he ever had been before. With a small, pained laugh, he took a sip of the cool liquid.
"I hate to hear you talk about dying," the angel said in a quiet voice, leaning sedately against the desk while keeping a hand on Crowley's left arm. "As if it were the only other option."
"In this case, it may well be," he pointed out. "Beelze was- going on about sides again."
"What sides?" Aziraphale demanded in frustration. "Without Adam, they have no ability to begin a war against each other. Unless..."
"Unless they're talking about starting a war against us," Crowley said. "Against the world."
XxX
"But what chance would humans have in a war against Hell and Heaven?"
The mild panic in Newt's voice as he asked the question was certainly understandable. After all, one did not typically discuss celestial warfare at teatime, but when it came down to the concept of actual fucking celestial warfare, well...one might also tend to not drag one's feet.
"Well...it was technically a gang of human children who averted the Apocalypse the first time around," Anathema pointed out, taking a sip from the sugary monstrosity Aziraphale was reasonably certain had once been a cup of tea. The drink was now fifty percent table sugar and was accompanied by a jar of olives the mother-to-be had brought with her.
Following the incident at the flat, Aziraphale had rung Newt and Anathema. In light of the fact that the young witch really could give birth any week now, the angel had volunteered for he and Crowley to come out to Tadfield, but Anathema had insisted that she and her husband were coming to their cottage instead, saying that it was safer, and she wasn't wrong, but Aziraphale still felt guilty for making her make the trip.
"Yeah, but that was before both planes were angry at humanity as a whole. Back then they were just hacked off at Adam, and he had the ability to tell them all off. Don't know that he quite has the same type of power anymore, and now we've got not one, but two races of supernatural beings with reality warping powers out for all our heads. Now I don't know about the rest of you, but those, to me, seem like some painfully long odds. What are we legitimately supposed to do in this situation?" he asked all of them, his tea undrunk on the table before him.
"Maybe...this is what Beelzebub meant...by whichever side claims them," Crowley mused absently, his sunglasses back in place after his run-in with the prince of Hell. He was not drinking tea, just casually noshing on a bag of crisps. He'd at first said he wasn't hungry, but the pair of siblings growing inside of him had quickly disagreed with that.
"Do you mean like...these two children fighting on the side of humanity?" Anathema asked him.
"Or Heaven and Hell," Aziraphale put in, his voice just as quiet as his husband's as he stared into his own tea, which he'd had exactly one sip of. Normally he quite enjoyed his tea, but now it seemed he was the one with no appetite.
And that of itself must surely be a sign of some sort of end times.
"Could that be it? I mean- I suppose the impression we all got before was that neither of your people wanted your baby to exist," Anathema said, looking uncertainly between the two of them.
"Was definitely the impression I got from Heaven each time one of them tried to tear her out of me," Crowley hissed, his voice thick with venom as he crushed a handful of crisps in his fist. "Whatever their intentions were, they succeeded in making sure she didn't exist."
"I'm sorry to ask this. I know it's not easy for you to look back on it, but...did you ever get any idea of exactly what it was they wanted?" the witch asked the demon, her countenance firm, but the look nothing but sympathetic.
With the sunglasses in place, Aziraphale knew it was difficult for their human companions to see Crowley's expression, but he could feel the tension in the space next to him...could feel the silent terror building with every moment as his beloved was plunged into memories of horrors the likes of which he knew he had no conception of.
"Crowley?" he started gently, fearful of causing another transference by touching him. "Dearest...it's done. Please- come back to me."
"I...no," the serpent finally exhaled on a broken breath, hand reaching out for Aziraphale's without turning to look at him. Slowly, he began to come back from the grip of his waking nightmare. "Mostly I'd thought- that they thought she was an abomination. That they had some sort of sacred charge to destroy her. But...if all they wanted was to make sure she didn't side with humanity..."
Aziraphale felt a similar kernel of anger flicker awake in his own heart as Crowley's grip on his hand tightened. He didn't know if this made it better or worse – that the death- no...the murder of their child...that it had been for the sake of another ridiculous, needless war, and not merely the result of Heaven's fear and ignorance. Ultimately, he supposed, it didn't truly matter if it was better or worse. This would still go down as one of the worst things either of them had ever experienced in all their years. With every new day, every new revelation of exactly what his love had gone through, he felt less and less guilt for what he and Adam had done to save Crowley.
"They won't win this time," he promised, gripping the demon's hand just as fiercely. "We won't let them. We must put all of our efforts toward keeping the three of you safe. I didn't- protect you before. Perhaps if I had-"
"Angel-"
"No. It's true. You know it is," he argued, lifting Crowley's hand to his lips for a brief kiss, looking at him only out of the corner of his eyes. "Part of it is my fault. I knew what they were capable of. I just never thought..."
"You didn't know," Anathema told him firmly. "You can feel guilty all you want, but you couldn't have known what they would do or when they would strike. That's not on you. The only thing for us to worry about today is how to protect Crowley and the babies now," she continued, quickly shifting into all business mode. "First step is probably not to leave the cottage for the next- what is now- seven months?"
"Something like that," Crowley returned, his grip on Aziraphale's hand becoming less desperate and more soothing, giving comfort as well as receiving it. "Couldn't tell you what the exact numbers are. Though...this time I think it might be better to stick to a more human timetable."
"How do you mean?" Newt asked him, finally taking a sip of his tea.
"Before, we- we really had no idea what was happening. I think I've got a better handle on things this time. I've been able to get distinct thoughts much earlier than I did before. You know how it was all...much more metaphysical than physical before?"
Anathema nodded. "I remember you seemed like you were barely showing before...before they took you."
"Right," his husband continued with a shudder. "Because back then it was more about the- more than human being that was developing. Angel...demon...whatever she was...and that- that protected her...while she was still a part of me...and I think I might've been unconsciously encouraging that- those three months. But I think it's got to be different this time."
"How so?" Aziraphale asked, looking at the demon properly now. It was the first time he was hearing this from Crowley, but since this was all still distinctly his experience, he was more than prepared to listen to what he was thinking.
"These two...if we want to protect them from Hell...I think we need to prepare them to live more human lives. I've got to let that human development happen."
"And...any idea how you actually do that, dearest?" he asked.
"None at all. Open to suggestions here," the demon admitted as he slumped back into the couch, his hand slipping from the angel's. Sighing in frustration, he ground out, "Haagh, what I wouldn't give for a good hard drink right now."
Aziraphale smiled faintly as he looked down at his husband. "What? A few thousand hits of stardust wasn't enough to quench that thirst?"
That one actually managed to draw a small laugh from the serpent. "Heh, that's probably why we're even in this situation again so soon if we're being honest."
"Sorry...stardust?" Newt asked, raising an eyebrow at them.
"The energy cast off by celestial bodies," Aziraphale began to explain. "To the pair of us in true form, it carries an effect similar to alcohol on humans if imbibed too deeply. I would say there was a fair bit of...drinking to forget...while we were away."
"Because it would just be cruel for God not to provide an outlet for all of Her creatures to get wasted," Anathema said with a tired grin.
"Too right," Crowley agreed, reaching for the bag of crisps again, almost in spite of himself.
"Well, then we can all go on a bender when the mamas can drink again, because damn if I don't miss it, too," the almost-mother said, the grin becoming more fond, even in her exhaustion. "In the meantime, though, only real suggestion I have is to just...treat it all like a human pregnancy, I suppose."
"What?" Crowley started, lifting his head a little. "Start going to mama yoga classes? Find a new mums group? Buy into all this New Agey stuff you humans love so much these days?"
Aziraphale felt a small swell of amusement when he watched the young witch attempt to suppress a laugh. "As...interesting a visual as I'm sure that would be, no. That's not really what I mean. I mean treat them and yourself like you're carrying two human babies inside of you and not two potential Antichrist-like figures who may or may not one day be compelled to destroy the world. Y'know...as one does," she finished with a helpless shrug.
"As one does," the serpent agreed with her, glancing at her over the tops of his sunglasses. "Well, good a suggestion as any, really. We'll give it a go."
"Perhaps I ought to keep the shop closed during," Aziraphale found himself suggesting after a time. "After all, I need to be here with you."
"No, don't do that, Angel," Crowley was already protesting as he pulled himself into more of a sitting position. "You love the shop. You shouldn't have to be away from it all the time."
"Crowley's right. Besides, it'll be easier to keep your head up for information that way," Anathema pointed out, unscrewing her olive jar and popping several of the things into her mouth. "You're going to hear things the rest of us have no hope of hearing in a million years. It's better to keep as many avenues as we can open."
"But...are you going to be all right out here on your own?" he asked his husband. Already, he felt anxious over the whole prospect, but Anathema wasn't wrong in any of her assessments.
"Certainly going to be safer than I have been back in London," Crowley reminded him with a small shrug. "After all, I was fine until I made a stupid decision to step outside the house this morning. And it was from the shop that Gabriel...that he kidnapped us in the first place," he said, only briefly struggling to get the words out this time. Then he was reaching for Aziraphale's hand again, letting his sunglasses slide down to the very tip of his nose as he looked at him overtop of them, golden eyes nothing but sincere. "You and I...we built this place so she would be safe. No reason it can't do for us now."
Aziraphale found his smile growing as he looked at Crowley. Leaning across the little space between them, he pressed his forehead against the demon's. "All right, but I don't want you to hesitate to call me if anything happens. If anything- were to happen to you this time...I don't think I could bear it."
"Actually...if you're worried about him...Newt and I could come and stay for a few weeks," Anathema suggested, again glancing somewhat uncertainly between the two of them.
The angel looked up at this, now taking his turn to look between the young couple with uncertainty. "Oh, we- Anathema, dear, how could we possibly impose so much when you're so close to your own time?"
"No imposition here. I was going to do home birth anyway. My mom's flying in again. It's just- how things are done in my family. I was born at home, too. We can keep an eye on each other and it can serve as a practice run for the pair of you."
"True."
"And you?" Crowley asked, turning the group's attention to Newt. "What do you think about all this?"
A nervous look moved across the former witchfinder private's face as he looked between the three of them, but when he ultimately did speak, it was not to say anything any of them had actually been expecting.
"To be honest...I would feel much more at ease if we do combine our forces- as it were. I don't think Anathema's been spending enough worry on herself and the little one since...what happened with Sandalphon."
"What happened with Sandalphon?" Crowley asked with a sharply raised eyebrow, now looking between Newt and Aziraphale.
"Oh. D- didn't I tell you?" Aziraphale stuttered, well aware that he hadn't.
"No. No, you didn't, Angel."
"Ah...I...well...it all happened so quickly. He didn't leave me much choice, and he might've harmed Anathema or the child if I hadn't-"
"Angel."
"I may have...smote him out of existence...with rather extreme prejudice," he admitted quietly, taking another little sip of his tea.
"Oh," was all the demon could seem to articulate for a long moment. "Is that all? Would've liked to have seen that, actually," he confessed a minute later, his voice just as quiet as he actually went about pouring himself a cup of tea.
"Newt, that- it was nothi-"
"Don't say it was nothing!" the young man snapped in a more hysterical voice than any of them had ever heard from him. For several minutes, he didn't look at any of them, just sat there, visibly trembling with anger and fear, and Aziraphale was immediately reminded of himself several months ago – when he had been so desperate to find Crowley. When Newt began to properly communicate again, it was to nervously reach a hand across to take Anathema's.
"You- you keep saying it was nothing...but it wasn't. A bloody angel was threatening to kill you...to not let our baby be born. That- that's not nothing, Anathema."
"Oh," the witch whispered, eyes wide with shock and guilt as she witnessed for the first time just how badly her husband had taken the threat against her. Then, with a soothing murmur, she drew his head down to rest on her shoulder, tangling her fingers in his hair. "It's okay. It's all right."
As the young couple took a moment to reconnect, the older couple looked to each other once more, speaking, as they so often did, without words.
Crowley tilted his head to the side, lifting his eyebrows.
I want to say that maybe we shouldn't have involved them, but...
Aziraphale's response was a slow shrug, accompanied by a sigh and a scrunching of the eyebrows.
...but in for a penny in for a pound, as it were.
The angel caught a glimpse of the demon's eyes above the rims again as they glanced upward.
Something like that.
The angel inclined his head toward the human couple, emphasizing by flicking a glance toward them as well.
You can't deny she'd be a help to have near. She has more of a head for strategy than either of us ever will. That and- we really do work better, all together.
Crowley nodded slowly, reticence slowly shifting to acceptance as his expression softened.
You're not wrong.
"Guys, you're doing it again."
XxX
Then
When Anathema Device-Pulsifer swept into the bookshop roughly a month following her wedding in a flurry of excitement, Crowley could honestly say the question that came out of her mouth was not one he had been expecting to hear.
"How would you feel about getting married?"
The serpent stared hard at the witch for several moments, aware of what it was she meant, but suddenly wary of the notion, decided to play dumb as he rose from the chair he'd been settled in.
"Well, flattered though I may be, Book Girl, I'm fairly certain you took that option off the table last month. Grown bored with wedded bliss already, have you?"
"Crowley!"
"Anathema!"
"Is that Mrs. Device-Pulsifer I hear?" Aziraphale asked as he approached from another alcove.
"It's her. Not sure if she wants to be called that anymore. The saucy little minx just proposed to me."
"Oh, dear," his angel gasped in put upon shock, glancing between the two of them. "While I can understand your feelings, my girl, I confess I have never been very good at sharing. And seeing as how I have put this wily old serpent in the family way, I'm afraid he is most definitely spoken for," Aziraphale said as he came to wrap an arm around Crowley, hand coming to rest against his belly, currently no different for all of the change that was happening beneath the surface. He hadn't physically felt the little one yet. More it was the growing presence of a new fire within his own. Even so, it was awe-inspiring to witness.
"Oh, ha ha, you're both so funny," Anathema snarked back at them, fixing them both with a very potent stink eye. "But what I meant was what do the two of you think about getting married to each other?"
Crowley didn't properly look at Aziraphale when the question was put, but he could feel his lover tense up beside him. But when he moved to pull away, the angel quickly understood that he'd hurt him and pressed a kiss to his ear.
"Not that we wouldn't...and gladly, I might add," he said, more likely for Crowley's sake than Anathema's, "but that I don't believe either of us could manage to walk into a church."
"You're being too Abrahamistic here, boys. I'm being a bit more general for what I'm talking about."
"Hmm, an angel and a demon with an Abrahamist world view. Who could've foreseen this?" Crowley snarked back at her.
"And now you're just being a brat," she returned with a sickly sweet smile.
"It's like she doesn't know me at all, Angel," the demon said to his partner.
"Seriously, guys," she said with a small laugh. "I might be able to create a ritual you could use to get off your respective offices' radars."
"Uh-huh, right. So...how does that involve us getting married?" Crowley asked.
"Well, sir, I'm glad you asked that question. To elaborate, you both draw power from your respective etherial planes, yes?"
They glanced at each other briefly before looking back at the witch and answering, "Yes?"
"Good enough. So I've been doing some research in the original Hebrew for angelology and demonology," she began to explain as she pulled a notebook from her satchel.
"Did you know we were ologies?" Crowley muttered to his partner.
"Well, I did have some idea. It's one subject I've never felt compelled to do much reading on," the angel whispered back.
"There's a lot of interesting debate over translations and the like, but the conclusion I've been coming to more and more is that Heaven and Hell are both a lot like computer networks."
"Really?" Aziraphale asked, eyebrow raised at a height Crowley had never imagined it could go to. The angel had never really been able to grasp computers after all and to hear such a comparison made was likely grating on his stores and stores of knowledge.
"Well, I guess you're not wrong," Crowley conceded with a shrug. "They've both definitely become very 'by the numbers' sorts of places."
"Interesting stuff, really. I got the idea from Newt while I was going through charts of the Sephirot."
"Did you two take a vacation for your honeymoon at all?" Aziraphale asked with a somewhat beleaguered smile.
"Well...yes, but you know me," she said, her answering smile more than a little guilty. "I need something to focus on. I have to be doing something. So I started in on the research. There's sort of a lot of history to go through."
Having lived through literally all of it, neither could really contest her on the point, so they continued to listen.
"So they're both systems of energy transference, and if all it is is a computer network, you just need to figure out how to disconnect yourselves from it," she explained as she flipped through her notes.
"And you've figured out a way of doing that, have you?" Crowley asked.
"I think so, yes. If you can, y'know, disconnect from the server, as it were, they wouldn't be able to track either of you anymore. You and the baby could go completely off the grid."
Well, the demon would be lying if he said he didn't like the sound of that.
"Again, how does marriage come into all this?" Aziraphale asked.
"If you disconnect from one system, you need to be able to connect to another. You need a different power source."
"Not for nothing, dear girl, but I can't imagine there is such a power source. Something to rival either Heaven or Hell."
Anathema rolled her eyes upward for a moment before muttering. "I'm gonna get shot for this. At the risk of sounding completely saccharin...I think you could draw on your connection to one another."
At that, they both froze, neither quite knowing how to respond. Ultimately, it was Crowley who broke the ensuing silence.
"So...you're saying...that we...that he and I-"
"That the love between the two of you is strong enough to defy Heaven and Hell? Yeah, I'd say there's a halfway decent chance. We're standing on a very existy planet that seems to verify that."
Slowly, the demon turned to look at his lover, feeling an actual flush rising in his cheeks. He swallowed heavily at the sight of a matching blush on Aziraphale's face. How was it they were still this awkward? They'd shagged about six million ways from Sunday. They were having a kid together. Yet they still blushed to look at one another and even think the word love.
"Okay, let me ask you guys something. Stupid question, I think, but you clearly need the For Dummies version. Do you love each other?"
"Unequivocally," Aziraphale answered breathlessly, never having looked away from him.
"Inescapably," was his mumbled response, eyes fixed to the angel's.
"So prove it to the world," Anathema's voice came through to them distantly. "Or- the supernatural world anyway. If you two make a bond with each other, declare your love as binding, I'm pretty sure you could draw your power directly from that."
Crowley trembled inwardly as he looked at Aziraphale. He had spent so long running from this, giving himself all sorts of reasons why he couldn't let himself have it. It was hard to break the instinct of millennia. So hard.
But now...
"Well...I'm up for it...if you are," he said quietly, still trying to maintain his typical front of nonchalance.
"Oh," Aziraphale whispered, his expression almost teary as he looked at him. "Darling...absolutely. Nothing would make me happier."
"And you- said we didn't a church for any of this?" Crowley asked the witch, still looking at his angel with a besotted smile playing around the corners of his mouth.
"Really, guys? You were there. What did people do before they started building churches?"
"Well, they just- gathered together in the wilderness, really," Aziraphale answered, still not looking away from him, and the demon felt a new spark of warmth that had nothing to do with the little bugger.
"Then that's what we're gonna do. I'll get everything ready and we'll go from there," she said, smiling as she came to hug them. Aziraphale had no issues, but Crowley still found himself a little awkward on the whole hugging thing, so the witch's embrace was returned with a single uncoordinated arm. When she stepped back from them, her grin was even wider. "Guess this is the part where I say congratulations. Sorry to dash, but there's a lot to do. See you soon."
Then she was gone, leaving the pair of them standing alone at the front of the shop.
"Well, that was...unexpected," Aziraphale said after a long silence.
"Any more unexpected than everything else that's been happening lately?" Crowley pointed out.
The angel inclined his head slightly to the side and shrugged. "Granted. But really it has all become so deliciously domestic, hasn't it. I truly could get used to it."
"With you there, Angel," he returned with a little smile of his own. Before he could say anything more, though, his stomach began to rumble. Hunger was such an odd sensation for him, one he still hadn't gotten used to, even after two months. It was right up there with actually needing a bathroom every now and then and feeling actual exhaustion.
"Oh, my," Aziraphale started with a bright smile. "I suppose it is that time of day. Lunch?"
"Absolutely."
"What shall we do today?"
"Y'know, painfully unusual, this, but I think I want sushi today."
The angel brightened almost exponentially at this, offering his arm to the demon. "I know most women complain of it, but the unusual appetite is something I could also get used to, dearest."
"Let's see if you still feel that way when I'm inhaling strawberries and dill sauce."
XxX
In the innermost depths of his admittedly vivid imagination, where even Crowley had hardly dared to imagine what it might be like to marry Aziraphale, he had to admit that he'd never much considered what an actual ceremony would be like. He'd only ever thought about what he would be feeling at the time...about what it would be like to look into the angel's eyes.
Interestingly enough, almost everything he'd thought had been wrong.
He wasn't nervous, for a start. He had absolutely expected to be nervous. But he just...wasn't. He was where he was supposed to be, even if he hadn't exactly expected to be gathered with a little gaggle of humans out in Hogback Wood.
The Them had all gotten permission from their parents for a campout in the wood. As unlike Newt and Anathema's wedding, they couldn't exactly explain to them that they would be bearing witness to a ceremony that was part wedding and part spell to further defy the systems of power upon which the Earth itself rested.
As one did.
Mostly, the children just seemed happy not to have to dress up this time around, laughing and joking around with each other as Anathema readied the space.
"Really, how many kids can say they've been to a demon's wedding?" Brian pointed out.
"Still none," Pepper fired right back. "Not like we can ever tell anybody about this. They'd think we were all complete nutters."
"Besides, I don't think a lot of demons actually get married," Adam noted in his best sensible voice. But then he turned to Crowley and actually asked, "Do they?"
"Nope," he answered with a stiff shake of his head. "This- ah...this'll be the first."
"No way. First as in...first ever?" Brian pressed.
"So we're literally making history here?" Wensleydale asked in awe.
"We are that, yes," Aziraphale agreed as he joined in from whatever conversation he'd been having with Newt, Shadwell, and Tracy. Smiling at his soon-to-be-husband, the angel reached for his hand beneath the pale moon light.
"And here we was thinkin' forty years was a long time," the retired witchfinder said with a chuckle. "Try waitin' six thousand years to be together."
"Can't recommend it," the demon grumbled, squeezing his partner's hand a little tighter.
But I'd wait six thousand more if I had to...for you...to see you smiling at me...
"Crowley? Aziraphale? It's time now," Anathema called to them. "Are you ready?"
Smiling weakly at each other one last time, they dropped hands as they turned to face the young witch.
"I believe you will find, Anathema dear, that we have been ready," Aziraphale answered for both of them.
"Oh, it's all just so wonderfully precious," Madam Tracy said with a delighted little sigh.
"Wouldn't doubt that," the witch said with a small smile of her own. "So let's not keep the universe waiting."
Crowley felt it the moment they both stepped into the circle Anathema had prepared before any of them had arrived. They had given her exacting instructions on just what needed to go into the creation of the circle to make sure it was strong enough to handle the energies they would be unleashing inside of it. And only now, feeling the strength of that power, did he feel that they might actually be able to pull this off. Part of him was tempted to reach for Aziraphale's hand, but the other part was aware they couldn't touch now they were inside the bounds of the circle.
Not until the time was right.
"Demon Crowley, Serpent of Eden, and Angel Aziraphale, Guardian of the Eastern Gate," Anathema addressed them both formally. "The circle has been raised and the songs have been sung. What is your intent tonight?"
"To keep unto the one I love," Aziraphale answered.
When Crowley glanced over at him for a brief, shy moment, part of him wanted to laugh at the sudden seriousness of it all. But at the same time...what in his life had ever been more serious...what since knowing Aziraphale?
"To be married," he answered a little less formally, then with a small, secret smirk, "To break the system."
"Then declare yourselves."
The act of declaring was less about actually saying anything, and more about revealing themselves. So they both released several illusions of their physical natures, unfolding their wings upon the air and letting some of the truths of themselves show through the diminished veneer. Crowley actually heard several gasps from their assembled friends. But most of all, he noticed how Anathema herself was staring at him.
Because it wasn't him she was staring at.
The light from within his own darkened being had been amplified when he'd released his barriers, shining outward to greet the odd little family, and it was at this that the witch was staring. He could see her wanting to say something, but she kept it all in, only letting what she was feeling show in her smile. Ultimately, it was Aziraphale who spoke.
"Behold, you are beautiful, my love," he said softly, echoing his words from the last time they'd been in this wood at night...when it had just been the two of them. He almost wished he could see it himself. It had been so long since he'd carried light within him...
...but even now Anathema's working was starting up, the lines she'd previously drawn into the earth already starting to glow. When he looked back up at Aziraphale, the angel had a very 'let's keep this moving' air as he harriedly produced a ring from one of his pockets. It was a simple gold band with two tiny aquamarine-colored stones in the shape of wings. They were not actual stones, but two chips of light – a tiny portion of the angel's power.
"Crowley...dearest friend, eternal beloved...wily old serpent," Aziraphale said with a fond, teary smile, drawing a little laugh from his throat. "What do I say to you in this moment? What but that I believe my life truly began that day on the walls of Eden. I had not truly lived before that moment. And it was you who brought me to life, my love." Then he kissed the ring once before slipping it on Crowley's finger, being careful not to touch him as he did. Already the air around them was beginning to crackle with power.
Crowley removed his sunglasses before producing his own ring, letting them simply fall away. The ring he offered was cast in silver and black metal and, like Aziraphale's, it was set with two tiny chips of light, golden and glowing like his eyes.
"Angel...Aziraphale..." he said softly, resisting the temptation to reach out and take his hand. This was the only prayer he had spoken since his Fall. "I never thought we'd be here. No matter what our situation, I never thought I could be...enough...to stand in front of you like this. I never thought...but, heh...maybe I just think too much. It- started for me, too...that day. It was like waking up...like everything that came before it was just a bad dream...a nightmare I couldn't wake up from. But then there you were...shining above me like a confused little star. Be my star...always...and I'll do my best to be yours," he finished, pressing a lingering kiss to his ring before sliding it onto his partner's finger, still being careful not to touch.
"The vow spoken, the sign given," Anathema said, looking between the two of them for a moment before nodding. "Please join hands."
This they did with gusto, smiling like fools as they took each other's hands. Crowley barely noticed when Anathema produced a length of grey ribbon, binding their hands tightly together before finishing.
"Keep thee, one unto the other, for all of time, for all your days to come, and this bond will serve as a wellspring of strength and care, soft and gentle as silk, but strong and imperishable as love itself. So swear, and in ending begin once more."
The moment Anathema had tied the ribbon off, it began to change, transforming into a ribbon of light and dark fire about their hands, and as it surged with power, the witch took several steps back, removing herself from the circle altogether. The rest was up to them.
Only distantly did Crowley remember being cut from the bonds that had once bound him to Heaven. This was very much the same as that dim flicker of memory. He had resisted his bonds to Hell before, but never pulled away from them entirely...because there had been nowhere else to go...no Heaven, no Hell...just oblivion. But now...now Aziraphale opened to him, shining even more brightly than he'd ever seen as he severed his own bonds to Heaven. With the ribbon of liquid fire flowing about their joined hands, swelling with power, those severed ties began to reconnect, forging a new bond.
Honestly, Crowley could say he almost didn't notice the river of raw power that ebbed and flowed around them, only looking into Aziraphale's bright eyes, his shining self, as that bond solidified between them.
I love you, they declared, in voice, in spirit, in energy, in void, in light and in dark. Ever have I loved you, I love you now, and I shall love you always.
Then they were kissing, flesh to flesh and soul to soul, and the fire between them was bursting outward like a new star being born. For what seemed, to them, a small eternity, everything was consumed by light.
When Crowley finally coalesced back into himself from the intensity of the union he'd just undergone, he couldn't say how much time had passed. It was still night, or night again. Who could say? He became aware of Aziraphale just across from him, their foreheads pressed together, both of them on their knees, hands still joined.
The demon exhaled loudly, resisting the desire to just collapse outright. Holding a little tighter to his husband, he mumbled against his lips, "Hwoo, bit of a rush, that."
"A rush?" Aziraphale returned with a laugh, nuzzling his nose against Crowley's. "That's all you've got? A rush?" he only half-teased before kissing him again.
"I'll write you a sonnet later. Just need to make sure the brain's all present and correct."
"Are you guys all right?" Newt's voice suddenly found its way to them. When they looked up, it was to see him and the others slowly approaching the perimeter of the circle.
"Never better, my boy," Aziraphale called out to him. "Just- taking a moment to catch our breath."
"That was amazing!" Anathema was soon gushing. "I mean- the circle could barely contain it. I've never seen anything like it."
"Which means we should probably be clearing the area," Crowley pointed out as he remembered. "We may not be attached anymore, but both sides'll have noticed that much power."
"Right. Time to get gone," the young witch said with a smile. Then she and Newt came forward to hug them. "We'll be seeing you."
"Congratulations to both of you," Tracy said, hugging the pair of them while Shadwell stood back and smiled.
"Great show," Adam spoke for the Them. "Much better than a plane old human wedding."
Then they were all dispersing into the woods, with plans already in place to meet up for a proper celebration. For now, though, there was a rather pressing need to flee the wrath of both realms, and Crowley knew that both he and Aziraphale could sense the approach of that wrath. Grabbing the angel's hand, he whispered to him, "Run," before taking off into the night.
They could've easily miracled away, no longer appearing on either Heaven or Hell's radars, completely free and untraceable. But there was just something about running through the night with his husband – his husband –something wild and free and exhilarating. That new freedom was compounded when he heard Aziraphale laughing beside him.
They can't stop us now, Angel. Just watch us run!
XxX
(A/N) Heheh, well...afraid I may have gone a little Doctor Who there at the end, but hey, how can you help it? Nothing much to say here except I hope you enjoyed! See you next month!