Okay, guys, I know a lot of you have been waiting for this one! I hope you enjoy!

And yes, this is a sequel to my story Above and Below, so you might want to read that one first. But for a short recap: After Armageddidn't, Heaven is struggling with earth missions because Aziraphale was their best operative. This leads Gabriel to trying to get Azi back to work for him personally so he doesn't look like a fool anymore. When Azi refuses, Gabriel locks him in Heaven and threatens him until he complies. Crowley, of course, launches a rescue but they both know Gabriel isn't going to let this one go so easily...

Upward and Downward

A Good Omens Fanfic

Part One

"I know I've said it before, but I'm going to say it again. I really do not like anything about this mission."

Aziraphale glanced over at Crowley, who was currently sitting in the driver's seat of the Bentley, with a short sigh. "Yes, I'm aware of how you feel, but there's no indication that this isn't exactly what it was presented as."

"Or it could be some sort of set-up. I know we're going on a month since Heaven or Hell have bothered us, but I'm honestly just waiting for the other shoe to drop on that one. I still don't think Gabriel is going to let that go."

Aziraphale pressed his lips into a thin line. He didn't really believe that either, if he were being honest. He clasped his hands together in his lap as he tried to push the memories of his internment in Heaven from his mind. He did truly fear Gabriel coming for him and Crowley again. Thought about it far too much. And yet, even more, he hated the thought of not doing what they were good at just for fear of their own safety.

"Yes, and that is why we are being cautious, dear."

Crowley glanced over at him, an apologetic look on his face for bringing the painful topic up. As if Aziraphale didn't already do that enough himself.

"Right, well, I guess we better go check it out, then. Make sure one way or another."

Aziraphale nodded and they got out of the car. He grabbed his sword from the backseat and Crowley tucked a small revolver into his coat, which he had taken to carrying. Since they had taken up the mantle of protectors of humanity, often going up against things that weren't entirely human, they had both taken to carrying weapons more readily. Especially since, now that they no longer held their positions, their powers were a little less sure and packed less punch.

Their current job involved a missing child, which is why they had come out here, despite the fact that the circumstances had been somewhat suspicious. One of their informants had told them that there had been a child gone missing, and that they had seen the poor boy being led into an abandoned building in a bad part of town. Crowley had been suspicious from the start, and so had Aziraphale, but neither of them would risk a child's life for the sake of their paranoia. Of course, Crowley said that anyone trying to capture them would have counted on that, but Aziraphale ignored him as much as possible. Unlike Crowley, he still chose to see the best in people.

Even when it seemed to consistently come back to bite him.

The address was an old house in a condemned area and it looked like it was about to come down. He and Crowley shared a look and went on their way, cautiously.

The door was practically hanging off its hinges, so neither of them needed to use their powers to open it. The rotten floorboards creaked under their feet.

"Do be careful, dear, we could go through this in an instant," Aziraphale muttered.

"Yes, mother," Crowley quipped.

Aziraphale pursed his lips in annoyance, but nodded. "Perhaps we should each take a floor? I'll go upstairs if you check the basement."

Crowley didn't look like he wanted to split up, but they also wanted to be out of there as soon as possible, so he nodded.

Aziraphale crept up the stairs which were actually still mostly intact, and seemed a lot less dangerous than the actual floor. Not that that was any consolation. He shuddered at the thought of a child being kept here.

"Hello?" he called after a moment as he got onto the upper landing.

He cautiously made his way down the hall, looking into each room as he went, but there was no sign of life.

Aziraphale turned around to go join Crowley in the basement. In reality that was probably a more likely place to find anyone hiding out.

He heard the creak of a footstep below and froze.

"Hello? Crowley, is that you?"

He pulled his sword from its sheath and hurried back down the stairs, glancing around at the shadows.

He was about to conjure a little light when he felt a definitely dark presence behind him and something pricked his side.

"Put that blade down easy, angel."

The dark, nasty voice was one Aziraphale recognized all too quickly as belonging to Hastur.

"Hastur, what are you doing here?" he demanded, annoyed and looking around for any other demons, particularly his companion.

"Everything will be explained soon enough," Hastur said. "I'm just surprised you two actually showed up."

"We had a bet on," one of the other demons said with a sneer.

Aziraphale turned slightly to face Hastur, glowering. "It appears we made a grave error in judgement."

"That you did." Hastur grinned.

More demons appeared from the shadows, surrounding the angel. Hastur pressed the blade more firmly into Aziraphale's flesh. "Put down the sword, angel, and we'll talk all civil-like."

"You expect me to believe that?" Aziraphale demanded, still making no move to relinquish his weapon.

"Believe what you want, but we have no use for you dead. No, it's not you who will suffer if you disobey."

Aziraphale's heart thudded as he heard sounds of a struggle down below in the basement.

"Crowley…" he breathed, making as if to rush for the basement.

The demons surged forward and hemmed him in, more weapons held ready. He huffed in frustration and fear for his friend and finally dropped the blade.

One of the demons kicked it away, and Hastur leaned close to Aziraphale. "Good. Now…this is for you from your old mate Gabriel." He pressed an envelope against Aziraphale's chest and the angel instinctively held onto it. "He says that you do what that letter tells you to and you'll get your friend back alive. Until that time, he's gonna keep Crowley as collateral."

The door to the basement slammed open and four more demons emerged, dragging a bound and unconscious Crowley up the stairs. Aziraphale reacted instinctively, surging forward, only to be held back by the surrounding demons, who threatened him with weapons.

"Do your job, or you won't see him again," Hastur said with a nasty grin. "Frankly, I'm rather hoping you'll decline."

"You…horrid creatures!" Aziraphale snapped, shaking the demons' filthy hands away from him. He stepped toward Hastur, at least planning on not going out without a fight, when something struck him in the back of the head and he collapsed onto his face, feeling the rough wood under him before darkness took him into its embrace.

Crowley woke to movement and blinked his eyes open halfway but stayed still so as not to tip off whoever else might be there.

His head was aching and he was lying across the backseat of a car, his hands tied behind him and his ankles also trussed together. He glanced up at the front. In the driver's seat, he saw one of the demons who had jumped him in the basement of the old house.

In the passenger seat was the all-too-familiar form of Hastur.

A brief panic surged through him at the realization that he was alone. Aziraphale wasn't there. That was either really good or really bad.

He knew they shouldn't have taken that job. He knew it had been a set-up.

He shifted slightly to see how tight the ropes were and Hastur turned instantly, a nasty smile on his face.

"Well, you're awake, then?"

Crowley glowered at him. He was missing his sunglasses but remembered those falling off sometime during the rough fight in the basement, right before he'd been hit over the head with a crowbar. "Disappointed?" he quipped.

Hastur smirked even harder. "Not really. See, where you're going, you'll probably be begging for death."

Crowley rolled his eyes. Delightful. "That sounds comforting. Where's Aziraphale?"

"Oh, the angel has his own part to play. Don't you worry about him," Hastur said in a way that made Crowley worry quite a bit more.

He struggled harder against the bonds. "What did you do to him, you slimy bastard?"

Hastur held up his hands defensively. "Relax, Crowley. Your precious angel needed to be in one piece for this one. He has a job to do. Especially if he ever wants to see you again."

Crowley still didn't like that, but knew that if Hastur had hurt Aziraphale, he would most definitely be bragging about it. As long as Aziraphale was okay, Crowley would be as well.

Well…mostly anyway.

"What do you want me for then?" he demanded.

"Oh, we don't really want you this time, Crowley. We're just the middle men."

Crowley frowned and then a cold horror settled itself into his stomach. "Wait…you don't mean…"

Hastur grinned, his blackened teeth showing. "Oh yes. You're in for a little righteous justice, Crowley."

Crowley slumped back on the seats, thinking quickly. Back when Aziraphale had been held captive in Heaven by Gabriel, Hastur had paid Crowley a visit and essentially let on that Heaven and Hell were more or less cooperating. At least some of their higher-ups were. And Hastur had also gleefully made it clear that if Crowley and Aziraphale were to overstep their boundaries in the eyes of Heaven and Hell, the demons would take it upon themselves to take them out.

And Crowley and Aziraphale had pissed Gabriel off royally. Not only when Aziraphale had refused to be his personal attack dog, but also when Crowley had called him out on his hypocrisy in front of all the other angels. That couldn't have gone over well.

And now it looked like it was coming back to bite them.

What the Heaven could Aziraphale have been tasked to do?

And then Crowley realized what he was—collateral. Whatever they wanted Aziraphale to do they were holding his safety over the angel's head. Bastards.

Crowley needed to get free as soon as possible.

He started to look around the car, wriggling so that he might be able to free a hand, open a door and simply leap to freedom and hope he got far away quickly enough to escape another capture.

It didn't go like that though. Before he could loosen his bonds, they pulled to a stop and the demon driver and Hastur got out and opened the back door at Crowley's feet, grabbing his ankles and yanking him out of the car roughly so that he landed on the pavement beneath.

He grunted and blinked upward as footsteps approached.

"Is everything set?"

Crowley had a sinking feeling as he heard the voice. He looked up to see Gabriel striding over to stop right in front of the two demons, Crowley lying helplessly between them.

"We brought you Crowley. The angel has been left his instructions. He has probably started already."

"Good," Gabriel said. "Get him up."

Hastur and the other demon reached down and yanked Crowley to his feet.

Gabriel looked at him with more pure hatred than righteous fury. "Crowley. I've been looking forward to seeing you again. I've got a lot of plans for you."

He backhanded Crowley across the face and caused his cheek to throb.

"Cut his feet loose, I'll take him from here—I'm sure you two will be a bit squeamish."

Crowley frowned but then finally realized where they had stopped. It looked to be a slightly rundown, abandoned church.

But rundown and abandoned or not, it was still holy ground.

Crowley swallowed hard, hating where this was going.

Hastur sneered slightly at the archangel, but drew a blade and leaned down to slice through the ropes binding Crowley's ankles. Crowley steadied himself as Gabriel drew a sword—the one that Crowley had returned to him previously—and nudged it into his side.

"No funny business, serpent. Let's go."

He turned back to the demons. "Keep an eye out for Aziraphale. If he strays too far from the path, make sure he understands the consequences of his actions."

Hastur smirked nastily. "Just save some for me, won't you?"

Gabriel grabbed the back of Crowley's collar and used the grip to steer him toward the church grounds. Crowley could already feel the effects of it and he balked before they reached the actual holy ground.

Gabriel leaned in close. "I haven't forgotten what you did, Crowley. And believe me, you're going to pay for it now."

"Ha-hang on," Crowley stuttered. "If I'm supposed to be collateral then you can't actually hurt me."

Gabriel smiled thinly and it was not a nice look. "All I need is Aziraphale to believe that I won't hurt you if he does what I ask him to. But I told him last time what I would do to you if you two ever crossed me again. He should know that I am an angel of my word."

He gave Crowley a hearty yank and Crowley felt his feet start to burn instantly as he stumbled onto the holy ground.

Aziraphale woke with a groan, reaching up to grasp his head, feeling a lump on the back of it that he pushed some of his powers to heal.

He gasped in sudden realization and surged upright, glancing around.

But he was totally alone. No more demons.

No Crowley.

"Crowley!" he cried, staggering to his feet and searching around the house and out in the street. But the only thing that remained was the Bentley parked on the other side of the road and a pair of smashed sunglasses in the basement where Crowley must have been attacked. Crowley was nowhere to be seen.

Aziraphale hurried back into the house and retrieved his sword, then spotted the letter lying on the ground. He had forgotten that Hastur had shoved it into his hand before he had been knocked unconscious.

Heart pounding, Aziraphale tore open the envelope.

He recognized Gabriel's neat script instantly and felt very ill indeed.

"Aziraphale,

You refuse to work for me when I ask nice, so I'm not going to do that this time. There's something I need. The address and description of the item is below. I have Crowley, and you will only see him alive again if you comply with my instructions. Retrieve the object and return to Trafalgar Square where someone will meet you to pick up the item and give you the address where you will find the demon. You have twelve hours. After that his life is forfeit."

Aziraphale clutched the paper with shaking hands. How had they been so stupid? And it had really all been his fault, insisting that they come here.

And now Crowley was in Gabriel's clutches, and…oh heavens. Aziraphale remembered all too well the threats Gabriel had made against Crowley when Aziraphale had been the archangel's captive. If Gabriel did what he had threatened to his friend…

Aziraphale pulled a time piece from his pocket and checked it. He'd only been out for about fifteen minutes. He could play this two different ways. Either do exactly what Gabriel asked and hope that he would give Crowley up at the end, or he could try to find Crowley now and forget Gabriel's note entirely.

But Aziraphale had no idea how long it would take him to track down the place Gabriel had taken Crowley. And he also had no idea how many other angels or demons might be around it. He only had himself now, and he had to make a calculated decision if he and Crowley were going to get out of this alive.

Or…well, there was a third option.

Aziraphale could do both. He could go get what Gabriel wanted, but have someone looking for Crowley as he did so. After all, there was no guarantee that Gabriel would honor the exchange anyway. Better to get Aziraphale and Crowley out of his hair for good—at least that's the way he would probably see it. And if that was the case, Aziraphale would be ready for whatever eventuality Gabriel had planned.

He hurried outside and to the Bentley. He picked up the car phone Crowley had installed and dialed a familiar number.

"Yes…Sergent Shadwell? Yes, this is Mr. Fell…no, no, I…look, it's about my partner Mr. Crowley. Something's happened and I need to find him… No, he's been taken!...What? No, I don't think it was…oh never mind, yes, yes, definitely witches. Lots and lots of witchy witches…Look, can you please just put your best men on this and give me a ring if you find anything about him?...yes, thank you."

He hung up, wondering if that had been a mistake after all. He called a couple of the other informants that he and Crowley used on cases and hopefully now there would be a good few people looking out for Crowley.

It wasn't much, but it made Aziraphale feel less like he was completely abandoning his friend.

"Alright then," he murmured as he read the address again and snapped his fingers to start the car. It revved in what he thought was an unhappy way, and he clucked at it.

"Come now, do be good. It's Crowley's life on the line."

The Bentley seemed to run better after that, and sped a bit more than Aziraphale wished as he pulled out onto the street to head toward his destination. He really wished Crowley would install seatbelts in this contraption.

Perhaps he could persuade his friend to do so if they got out of this alive.

Right now, though, he had other things to worry about.

Gabriel dragged Crowley through the doors of the church and down the aisle between some broken and scattered pews, toward the back where an alter still sat. Once they got there, he threw Crowley to the ground.

Crowley cried out as the holy ground seared into his skin, his clothes doing nothing to protect him. He tried to struggle to his knees or feet to lessen the surface area, but Gabriel's foot came down and slammed into the center of his chest, pinning him.

"Struggle all you want, snake. It's not going to do you any good," the archangel said, seeming all too satisfied to witness Crowley writhing under his foot, trying to escape. "All you're going to get here is what you justly—what you righteously—deserve."

Crowley hissed, trying to shift into snake form to escape, but the overwhelming holiness of the place was blocking all his powers. He could feel blisters starting to form on his back and shoulders, the pain agonizing. He gritted his teeth, not wanting to give Gabriel the satisfaction of screaming, but moisture gathered in his eyes and began to slide from their corners all the same.

This seemed to please Gabriel and he finally removed his foot and reached down to drag Crowley upright again.

"I've given Aziraphale twelve hours to finish his mission," Gabriel said. "And that is how long your punishment will last."

Crowley couldn't help the small sigh of relief as Gabriel raised him bodily and slammed him down on top of the alter. He didn't want to think about what was coming next, but it was also acting as a barrier between him and the holy ground, for which he was grateful.

"Where did you send him?" Crowley asked hoarsely, shifting against his bound hands and wincing at the blisters that now covered his back and shoulders.

"I sent him to get something that is very important. Something that will give anyone who has it the upper hand in any…conflict that arises."

Crowley felt his stomach clench at the archangel's words. "What do you mean 'conflict'?"

Gabriel smirked. "Well, come on, you don't think that little snafu that we called Armageddon was It did you?"

To be fair, Crowley didn't have any hope that it could have possibly been 'It'. Of course they could never be that lucky. But on the other hand, he didn't think that whatever came next would be any time soon.

"Your new demonic pals know about this?" he asked.

Gabriel shrugged. "If they don't know the details it won't hurt them. Not now anyway. They didn't exactly need persuading once I informed them that you and Aziraphale would be suffering for it."

Crowley rolled his eyes. Yeah, Hastur never needed any other motivation than the promise of causing pain. Pain delivered to living things in general was good—pain delivered to Crowley was better. "That sounds about right," he muttered.

Gabriel rolled him onto his side and sliced his bonds. Crowley froze, wondering if he should try it and decided his situation couldn't get any worse than it already was.

He kicked out at Gabriel and his boot hit the archangel in the stomach.

Gabriel folded with an oomph and Crowley slid off the alter, back onto the ground. He cried out at the burn against his hands and knees but gritted his teeth to endure it as he dashed toward the door.

Only to have Gabriel appear in front of him and slam a fist directly into his face.

Crowley went down hard, barely feeling the holy ground burn into him for the pain exploding in his face. He reached up weakly and felt blood dripping from his nose. He thought it might be broken.

Gabriel dragged him back up and once again slammed him onto the alter, this time, bringing out chains and using them to secure Crowley, hand and foot, to the alter. His head lolled to the side, watching the archangel and tugging uselessly against his restraints.

"You know…" Gabriel said conversationally. "I still believe that you and Aziraphale pulled something during your trials. I'm not entirely sure what, but I don't entirely believe that he is immune to Hellfire. And I'm not entirely ready to buy in to the theory that you're immune to holy water either."

Crowley blinked and his eyes tracked to Gabriel once again, his breath catching in his throat. No…Gabriel couldn't really be thinking of…

The archangel went to one side of the church and retrieved a jug. Crowley's breathing quickened and he struggled as he knew exactly where this was going.

"No…please don't do this," he couldn't help but say.

Gabriel smirked, seeming happy to hear his protests. "You're scared. Just as I suspected." He dipped his hand into the jug and brought it out, dripping some of the destructive substance.

"Let's talk," Crowley said quickly. "I'll tell you anything you want to know."

"I don't want to know anything, Crowley," Gabriel said. "You're not here for information. You're here so that you can suffer. And damn me if I'm not looking forward to seeing that."

Crowley was about to say that he could very well be damned, but Gabriel flicked his fingers out and holy water spattered against Crowley's face. The demon just barely managed to squeeze his eyes shut in time before the corrosive liquid began to sear into him. He screamed at the pure agony, far worse than the holy ground had been.

Gabriel watched, seemingly satisfied as he witnessed the blisters form on Crowley's skin and set the jug by his shoulder. "A good start. A very good start indeed. Let's see just how sorry you are, demon filth."

Crowley bit back a whimper. He really hoped that whatever Aziraphale was doing, he was going to hurry.