BAD GRACE - quantum witch © 2005
see Prologue for warnings, rating, and summary
In which the Seven Seals of Armageddon are opened, and a demon and an angel finally get their ends away.
6:03 – THE PRODIGAL ONE
CROWLEY WAS LYING IN A TREE, comfortably coiled along a sturdy branch. Then he suddenly realised that he shouldn't be doing that sort of thing, as he was supposed to have arms and legs and non-scaly skin.
He lifted his serpentine head in a flash, wondering what the bloody hell had happened. Then he saw where he was. Apple tree in the middle of a beautiful, lush meadow, animals co-existing peaceably. Eden looked just as he recalled. Maybe better, since it was only a dream.
"Hello, demon," came a sweet feminine voice. "Whatever are you doing up there?"
Familiar line, and a familiar response seemed to be called for. "Oh, just hanging around, haha." Crowley cringed to think he'd ever been that lacking in smooth. "Say, Eve, don't you ever wonder about what's outside the walls, what your Maker must have made besides the Garden?"
"Hmm, not really. Especially since I've already seen it all. I mean, this is your dream, not mine," she smiled wryly. "Come down from there, Crowley, and let's have a talk and take a walk."
"Uh, yeah." He was puzzled as to the purpose of the dream, but he figured what the hell. He slithered down along her arm, over her soft shoulders and down to the ground, where he took on his favourite form. The fact that he was naked too he attributed to it being Eden, where clothing wasn't even an option. "So, what are we talking about?"
"This and that. About Creation. About Life and Love. But mostly about you and why you're torturing yourself so much. Crowley, you've been a restless little bee these last seven years. Flitting around the world, sucking up what sweetness you can from the experience, and moving on. But with no hive to return to, you've just gotten fuller and fuller and that sweetness is fermenting in your soul. And one day it will burst."
"What in the world are you talking about?" he crooked his mouth in confusion.
"Crowley, why do you think that every time you tried to get nearer to your angel that you were harmed?"
"What, that? Oh, Ineffability. Infernality. I'm not sure which of the two, or both. It was revenge from one side or the other." He shrugged, annoyed by being forced to think about it.
"Oh, poor dear," Eve reached out a hand and patted his arm. "It was you that did it. Your own powers caused those accidents and injuries. A little infernal, a little ineffable, but mostly you."
"So you're saying I was beating myself up so I wouldn't boink an angel? See, that's just stupid. I should have just gone ahead and done what I wanted. I could have, too, when he was first being all swoony-eyed at me. Could have played it the right way and… yeah, I could have." Crowley trailed off, frowning.
"Hm, but you didn't. Because of your own nerves, your fear of being found inadequate, even in the face of Aziraphale's true interest. Fear, in fact, that you might make him Fall, just as he himself fears to this day. All og that caused you to lash out at yourself. Of course doing it from the outside was quite a trick. Bad for your health, though." She laughed lightly. "So, if you had the chance again, what would you do?"
"C'mon this is Aziraphale, my best friend for thousands of years. All I wanted to do was have a taste of something more. He wanted it too, you know. I wanted to… feel him… make him happy, and…" Crowley stopped and put his head in his hand. "Oh, God! I wanted to make it so wonderful for him, and I barely had to fight any demonic instincts to just take or harm. He's gotten to me, changed me, damn near redeemed me, the rotten bastard!"
"Now, now. You were never so awful. Really, you were the best choice Hell could have made, simply because you were rather sweet about tempting me to eat the apple. And it was all an Ineffable Test, as you would say. Which we, in fact, have mostly passed. But now you're fighting the last one, the most important one of your life Crowley, and no matter whether you Fell or Sauntered, God doesn't love you any less."
Crowley scoffed in a rather desperate way. His eyes shifted around, looking at anything but Eve. "Love isn't something I understand, you know. You forget that when you're in Hell. You forget your name and you forget love…"
"And how long has it been since you were actually in Hell?"
"Can't have been that long, uh, lemme think…" His eyes screwed up as he thought. Then he said slowly, "It must have been about… two… thousand years… at least."
"Hm, and with that much time away, you got quite used to earth. You enjoy earth."
"A lot…"
"You love it."
"… Might say that…"
"So you can love. Therefore…"
" ... "
"Creation is Love. Love is inherent in everything in Creation, even if it is hidden. But once it comes to the surface, it cannot be ignored."
Crowley gasped piteously and crumpled to his knees. "I love the angel." Eve put out her hands and steadied him. "I do, don't I?" She nodded and smiled. "Damn it! How the hell could this happen? I don't know how this happened…"
"Because you are part of Creation, dear. Love is inherent. Falling doesn't remove it, just hides it."
The demon whimpered on the ground. "Why does it hurt so much? It's worse that the Pit!"
"You're torn in half, that's why. When you left Aziraphale, it split you both in two. Some folk belong together, are incomplete without each other. I am that way with Adam…" She sighed restively.
He all but sobbed, "Yes! I've been aching inside for years now. I didn't ache before he kissed me. I didn't ache before I thought we were going to die in the Apocalypse. I didn't ache because… I was with him, even if it was just as friends. I… loved him… all this time."
"Yes dear. Now wake up and go to him. You're both in great pain and great need, and you'd best deal with it before the world ends again."
"Yes, yes, now." He gasped hard.
And woke up in a strange bed. Two seconds later he was scared out of his mind by the sight of Hastur leaning over him with a cup of something that steamed.
"Gaaaaah!" he screamed, frozen to the spot.
"Rise and shine, snake," Hastur grinned with slightly sharp teeth. "You need some coffee?" The Duke sipped his own cup and smiled. "C'mon, already, get your lazy arse up. I have to catch a plane, and I figured you should come along. I mean, if you want to see your poofy angel sometime soon. I'm heading to England."
Crowley scrabbled at the sheets, covering himself. The previous evening crashed down on his head like the Berlin Wall, only without the cheering and relief afterward. "Gaaaaah!" he yelled again. "What the hell! They did send you after me, I knew it!"
"They don't even know I'm here, idiot," Hastur rolled his eyes and finished his coffee. "Get dressed already, would you, I'm not interested in what you've got to show me." He tossed Crowley's clothes at him, but Crowley had already snapped his fingers and dressed himself. "Fine, just come on. It's a long trip, we can talk on the way."
Twenty tense minutes later, they were airbourne and headed toward England.
Crowley hesitated to take it all at face value, but since the other demon had consented to transport his Bentley as well, he was feeling a bit more disposed to acceptance. "So… you're the consort of the queen. And you've been on earth since right after the Apocalypse, hiding from Hell and all other demonic and celestial notice, by using… that?" Crowley pointed at the talisman around Hastur's neck.
"Yes, indeed. Rather proud of that bit of work." Hastur grinned and held up the item. It was an oval of thick Plexiglas, and in the middle was a hollowed cross shape filled with holy water. "See, it's so tough it can't break. Even if it did, this isn't enough to do more than give me a nasty burn on the chest. So far, it's kept me safe. It's been canceling out my own aura. I mean, you didn't notice me hanging around last night. Of course you were pretty busy there," he chortled, "but still, a demonic presence should have been clear."
"So… you're not going to kill me?" Crowley asked cautiously.
"Oh, for crying out loud. You're lucky my lady interrupted last night, or you'd already be dead. Those three together are like the brides of Dracula, I'm tellin' ya. Suck a guy dry before he can take a breath. Fortunately we don't need to breathe, eh?" Hastur laughed uproariously. Crowley winced. "Nah, ya stupid git. I'm taking you to England, not killing you. Though living there would be the death of any sane person, if you ask me. Anyway, my lady left this morning to go there and I'm supposed to meet her. Not sure exactly where, but the pilot has directions. We'll be there in a few hours, and we'll drop you off at Heathrow. Why don't you just chill and have a drink or something. Your nerves are getting on mine."
Crowley did so, gulping down several glasses of champagne (damned fine stuff, he noticed), before venturing to speak again. "So... If you're not interested in me, what the He-athrow are you doing up here? And with a queen?"
Hastur laughed devilishly. "Ya know, it really doesn't matter what I came up here for. I thought of trying to take over a country, or the world, just to kick its arse into Hell. Killing you and dragging what was left back Down to achieve a medal or something would have been a great plus. It was my Big Plan. How silly. But when I got here, nothing was right. Until I met my lady. And suddenly... well, I dunno what happened. But now she's what I'm up here for."
Crowley gawked at the Duke for several minutes. It was beyond surreal. Not only had the other demon had become acclimated to the earth in such a short time, but it was clear he was genuinely... in love.
Perhaps the world really was ending again after all.
THE BENTLEY WAS UNLOADED FROM THE PLANE onto the tarmac in record time, and Crowley flew like a bat out of hell toward Soho. He tried phoning from the car, but there was only an automated message saying the number was no longer in service.
And now he was praying – yes, actually praying – that the angel was there. Or that the bookshop was still there. He wasn't at all sure that Aziraphale would have stuck around, much as he loved London. Or England. Or – please, God – the earth. The thought that Aziraphale might have just packed up and left altogether terrified Crowley in ways that he couldn't express. His brain just sat in a corner and gibbered at the thought.
The car screeched to a halt, half on the sidewalk, narrowly missing both a lamppost and a pedestrian who scrambled away in fear. Crowley heaved a monstrous sigh of relief to see the familiar old shop, it's faded books-of-no-consequence in the windows, the door firmly locked and showing the perpetual 'Closed – Please Call Again' sign. If the store was existent, then Aziraphale was somewhere on earth and almost certainly still residing in England.
Trembling with nerves, knowing that he might well be facing death or, worse, rejection, he strode to the door. 'Closed' meant nothing to him of course, but he did feel a slight tingle as he entered. There was a protective ward on the place, something that he shouldn't have been able to cross unless it were arranged so that only he could cross. He had still been a welcome presence when the ward had been set, but it might have been a very long time since Aziraphale had been here himself.
The inches-thick dust proved him right. The angel wasn't there, and there was no way of knowing where…
There was a note on the counter, glowing slightly. Also covered in dust, though perhaps only a week's thickness. Crowley approached it fearfully. Last time there'd been such a note it had been from Above. But no, this one was in Aziraphale's neat handwriting, and addressed to Crowley. Ah, the glow had been to make it visible in the gloom.
He read it, and was so relieved that he briefly collapsed against the counter. Then, clutching the note as a talisman, he ran back out, slammed the door to reset the ward, threw himself into the Bentley and nearly flattened a police officer ready to ticket the car, in his haste to reach Lower Tadfield.
NEWT WAS AT WORK FOR THE DAY. Anathema was busy at Martha's, helping her prepare for Pepper's special event. Therefore they'd asked Aziraphale to watch Rachel.
They were sitting in the garden, favourite spot to them both, and she doodled in a notebook while he read. Or stared at the book, anyway. Rachel sighed. The angel was being silly, and now the demon was on his way. Someone had to do something, especially since the world was about to end anyway.
She rose and went into the house, and Aziraphale hardly noticed. When she returned, she came with a Bible. She opened it to a particular page and passage, plopped it onto his lap and pointed at it until he noticed. "Here, read this to me."
"What? But dear, I've read most of it to you already-"
"Just this part. Now, I really need you to."
"All right," he said, looking quite puzzled. He looked where her finger pointed and spoke:
"Jesus replied: 'Love the Lord thy God with all thy heart and with all thy soul and mind.' This is the first and greatest Commandment. And the second is like it: 'Love thy neighbour as thyself'." He looked up at her, still confused. "So, why did you-"
"You love Uncle Crowley, right?"
He was taken briefly aback. "I- I love… everyone."
"But not like you love him. Not like you love God, and then him. God's the first, and Crowley's second, above everyone else on earth. Right?"
The pains in Aziraphale breast nearly made him gasp aloud. "I… I do, but it's not… It's not right to feel it."
"Says who? And why? Because he's a demon? Or because he's male?"
Aziraphale blushed hotly. "Now, young lady, this is not appropriate to talk-"
"I'm not stupid, you know," she answered tersely. "We had the classes this year, and I know more than you think anyway. Chloe's older brother has a boyfriend and they're pretty happy. And don't tell me it's all that stuff about it being a sin, 'cause I've heard that too. Some people with stupid heads, like Mr. Tyler, say things about you and I hear them and it makes me so mad because they don't even know you!" She was red-faced now and getting desperate. "So you just have to decide. Believe that piece of writing there, if you can, all right, and make up your own stupid mind!"
Aziraphale gaped at her behaviour. "You… why are you so very upset about this? Why does it matter? I mean, Crowley is probably never coming back anyway, so-"
"He is coming back! He's on his way right now! Don't ask how I know, I'm just tellin' you! So tell me, do you love him or not? Are you ready to just be with him? You're afraid, I know, but what part of it are you afraid of? Oh, it doesn't matter what part, because all that does matter is love! Tell me what you feel!"
The angel sat there, bewildered and shaking. The sheer force of Will the girl was demonstrating felt terribly familiar, but he wasn't thinking clearly at all. "I love him… I love him as a friend… as a companion… as an individual… as…," he swallowed slowly, and tried to focus. "As a man. And… heaven help me, as a demon. He is what he is. He's Crowley. And I love him."
"Good." Rachel sighed heavily and stepped back. "Now at least you can be happy. You'll be happy, and I need you… to be happy." She sobbed suddenly and threw her arms around his neck.
Baffled and twisted inside, Aziraphale held her and let her cry, though it lasted but a moment.
She stood up again and smiled, wiping her face. "It's all going to be fine now. You'll see. He'll be here in just a little while."
And Aziraphale felt hopeful butterflies in his stomach break from their chrysalis and fly up, freeing his heart again.
CROWLEY DROVE UP TO THE formerly-Jasmine Cottage, didn't even notice the name change, and spun the Bentley's tires in the grass, damaging quite a few flowers. All of which he would no doubt be forced to replace, as long the world didn't truly end.
He dashed to the door, pounded on it a few dozen times in desperation. When there was no immediate answer, he gave a frustrated whimper and dashed around to the back. He scanned the yards, while his inner gardener noted how lush and typically English the gardens looked. But most of his conscious brain was searching for his angel.
And there he was, standing beneath the apple trees.
For a split second, there was great silence, except for the soft sound of a dove cooing.
Then an incoherent psychic noise like two great birds flapping frantically toward one another on a collision course.
They came together in a pounding rush, overlapping one another like perfect puzzle pieces, arms clasped as chain links, never to be separated. And within a few seconds, there were mouths coalescing in tearful joy. They kissed like it was the last day of the world all over again, and this time they would do what they'd both been thinking the first time around.
"Oh Crowley," the angel gasped, barely lifting his lips, "oh, Crowley… I thought I'd… never… see you again!"
"Me, neither," Crowley breathed heavily. "I… I don't… know why I… didn't come back…sooner."
"You're home," Aziraphale was almost in tears now, as his lips moved to Crowley's cheek and then to his shoulder. "Don't ever leave."
"Staying," Crowley declared simply, and put his head down upon the angel's shoulder as well.
Then he opened his eyes to see a small face smiling gently up at him.
"Er," he said, embarrassed. He tried to step back from Aziraphale, but the angel's arms were wound so tight he knew he'd already been bruised. "Uh, hi kid." He grinned nervously.
Aziraphale blushed and stepped away when he realised they were being inappropriate in front of a child. "Oh dear, ah, got a bit carried away."
Rachel just continued smiling. It radiated and warmed them both to the core. "Glad you're back, Uncle Crowley. It's good to see you both happy. That's all that matters in the whole world. Well… I need to go inside and get ready. Remember, the gang and I are going down to the playground in a while. Deedee's auntie is going to drive us."
"Oh, right, right, I'd nearly forgotten," Aziraphale was going to walk with her, but she shook her head, indicating she could not only take care of herself but that he had other, more important, obligations at the moment.
Nervously, he turned back to the demon. "Heavens, she's so grown up. Truly a wonderful child."
"I can tell… you and she are very fond of one another," Crowley said, also nervously. "So, this gig really suits you, doesn't it?"
The soft glow around the angel answered for him.
"You do realise, she's left us alone deliberately." Aziraphale managed not to blush very hard.
"Er, yes. Precocious thing."
"And… amazingly wise for her years," Aziraphale ran his fingertips up Crowley's arms to the shoulders, then to his neck.
Crowley shuddered deliciously. "Must… get that from… her 'uncle'…"
"Not really. If not for her, I wouldn't have the sense to tell you this…" Aziraphale's lips brushed Crowley's ear, and murmured something that made the demon's entire body shiver nearly hard enough to rattle.
"You, you, want, now, yes, really?" Crowley babbled. "Why now?"
Aziraphale smiled. He nodded upward at the apples hanging over their heads. "It's rather like the fruit. Some of them are at the top, getting touched by the sunlight, growing ripe and ready quickly. Others are hidden beneath leaves and it takes more time, they must wait until another apple falls out of the way, or the leaves are blown aside by wind, just to get the sun on their skins. They go at a slower pace, but… they get there. The conditions eventually become right, and when it's time for them to be plucked...," he reached up and pulled a reddened apple from the branch, "…they are the most delicious, sweet, tender and perfect apples you'll ever hope to taste since the Garden itself."
Crowley's mouth had slowly dropped open at these words. Aziraphale took advantage of the moment to push the apple into the demon's mouth. Reflexively, Crowley bit down and the crisp skin broke beneath his teeth, the soft flesh inside sent a burst of sweet juice into his mouth and dribbled down his chin. He very nearly experienced the same reaction in his trousers.
Grinning at the flummoxed demon, Aziraphale removed the apple and shockingly licked the juice from Crowley's chin and mouth. "You see what I mean, now?"
"Guh," was all Crowley could manage to say. He watched as Aziraphale nibbled at the apple, slowly devouring the white flesh. It was only by the most extreme force of will that he managed not to either molest the angel as swiftly as possible or to faint from lack of blood in the brain region.
"Guh," he repeated.
"My dear, we need to take a drive to Upper Tadfield. I have a shop there with a small flat above. I have… I have a bed now." Aziraphale found himself blushing anyway. "We really should… As soon as possible."
"Guh. I mean, yes, you, please, want, yes, now."
"Duty first," the angel said softly. "Must attend to Rachel, be sure she's off safely…"
WHILE HER UNCLES WERE BUSY in the garden, Rachel prepared.
She took her chalk and drew on the hardwood floor of her bedroom something very nearly the same as a hopscotch. Then she took the candle and Bible she'd been given at her birth, along with the Easter cake that had been frozen all these years. She sat carefully inside the highest circle. She lit the candle and was enveloped in the scent of myrhh.
She felt the world shiver as the Fifth Seal was opened. She sensed the Sephiroth being drawn in its destined spot, where she would soon be standing. The deepest core of the earth trembled, rending itself painfully.
Sighing, she took a bite of the cake, tasting the strong and slightly sweet frankincense.
The Sixth Seal opened, and the psychic world shook. With the exception of a notable two, she sensed multitudes of angels and demons beginning to stir, preparing.
Silent for a moment that seemed to stretch into infinity, she opened the gold-edged Bible to the necessary passage and read aloud hurriedly:
"The wolf shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid, and the calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them. The sucking child shall play over the hole of the asp, and the weaned child shall put a hand on the adder's den. They shall not hurt or destroy in all my holy mountain: for the earth shall be full of the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea"
And with a bone-deep groan of the earth, the Seventh Seal opened. She felt the Horsemen, the Sins, hovering at the edges of town like vultures, ready for the true, final End.
Her breath hitching just a bit, she looked upward, her eyes piercing the Veils between this world and the next. "Please, Father, let this all be true. Please…"
THEY ENTERED THE COTTAGE AND SAW that Rachel was sitting by the front door, ready for her day out with friends, and within moments a car pulled up to the gate and several small girls inside it were waving and giggling at the house. All six of Rachel's friends were there, along with a white-haired older woman who must be Deedee's auntie. Rachel gave both her uncles a quick hug and kiss – which surprised Crowley even more when he felt pleased by the action – and ran down to meet them.
When she'd driven away, Crowley turned back to Aziraphale. "So," he breathed anxiously, "how far is this flat of yours? Or should we just borrow the bed here and hope they don't come home in the next three days?"
Laughing gently, Aziraphale took Crowley's hand. "We'll make it to my place. Barely, but we will."
They got into the Bentley and drove as swiftly as the streets would allow. They arrived at the flat. Aziraphale took his hand again and led Crowley up the stairs, into his bedroom, and shut the door behind them.
At last.