#Crack Treated Seriously #taking angels as avians a little too far #crowley is soft #Heaven is awful #hell is no better #kindness is actually a big deal #we need to be more aware of the power of kindness #the demon of curiosity meets the angel of curiosity

Since Series 2 is coming out soon I thought I should get some stories off my desk before they get jossed by new canon...

This is set right in the beginning of the world, so Aziraphale has not been subject to centuries of abuse by Heaven or to watching the humans go through so much suffering. Crawly has not yet been ordered to do terrible things by Hell only to watch humans come up with worse ideas. They are very young yet and haven't had time for rules to be created.

Can be read as the beginning of anything from friendship to romance (I was going for romance, but whatever works for you).

While this was inspired by a line in the fic "the hell you endure" by thewalrus_said, it has nothing to do with that fic in tone or story. But without that fic this one would not exist.

Chapter 1

A white wing hung sheltering over his head and Crawly looked up at it in wonder. Wonder that he should have been so foolish as to look to an angel for shelter, wonder that it should have been freely offered.

The angel held out a hand to the falling water, catching some in his palm and letting it trickle down his arm. "Ah good, it's not holy," he said in tones of relief. "It shouldn't do you any harm, Crawly."

Right, so that hadn't even been on his list of things to panic over, which in retrospect he was glad of. Didn't need the angel thinking him a complete flake, after all. "Good to know," he said casually. "Thanks, er—"

"Aziraphale."

"Gesundheit." To his surprise, the angel giggled. "So, er, what is this, d'you know?"

"Rain, I think it was called. To water the Garden."

Crawly looked out over the desert, where the rain fell hissing on bare sand. "Don't know about the Garden, but that lot could do with some watering."

"Yes, I suppose so." Aziraphale stared out to where Adam and Eve were still butchering the lion. "Do you think they'll be all right?"

" 'Course they will. They're the big deal, right? She'll look out for them." Not that She had done so far.

"It's just… I thought that was my job. Guardian of the Gate, and all that. Bit hard to do when they're out there."

And Crawly had caused that. But the angel didn't seem to blame him. Maybe he'd think to do so later, and Crawly had better make the most of this strange truce while relations were still amicable. But none of that was why Crawly said, "Well… Gates have two sides, right?"

"What do you mean?"

"You guarded them while they were on that side of the gate." He jerked a thumb back over his shoulder to indicate Eden. "Nothing to stop you guarding them when they're on this side of the gate as well. Still, you know, gate related."

Aziraphale beamed; Crawly nearly flinched. "Oh, how clever of you! Thank you."

"Don't mention it. To anyone." The angel was still beaming. Crawly wasn't sure how to make him stop. "And look, you gave them that sword, right? It's already helped them. 'Gainst the big cat thing. So you're still guarding them even if you're not with them."

The beaming turned softer. The strange human organ Crawly had tentatively identified as his heart (it was that or his spleen; he wasn't quite sure) wasn't convinced that was better. Were organs supposed to feel like they were being squashed or had Hell managed to screw things up again? It wasn't painful, just… odd. And not totally unpleasant.

"So," Crawly said hastily, before Aziraphale could go and say something else stupid, like another 'thank you', "how are you the Guardian of the Gate if there's no gate?"

"Guardian of the Eastern Gate, to be precise. And, er, maybe it's metaphorical."

"Sounds ineffable to me," he drawled.

Aziraphale smiled, pleased to have his words from earlier remembered. "That too. I'm sure there was a reason."

"Maybe someone forgot to put it in. Wait, wait, how did they," he nodded to the humans busily butchering on the sand, "get out if there's no gate?"

"Er."

Crawly looked at him with keen interest. "What did you do?"

Aziraphale did not meet his eyes. "Madaholinthwall."

"Sorry?"

"I made a hole in the wall! I fixed it afterwards! But I couldn't make them try and climb out. Not after the terrible day they'd had, and poor Eve already expecting and…" He stared out into the sodden desert. "Well."

You, Crawly thought for a second time, I like you. Giving away flaming swords, making holes in the wall of Eden. Are you sure you're an angel? he didn't ask. Aziraphale was too kind to be an angel.

"So, what do you think they'll do now?"

When the rain stopped, Aziraphale lowered his wing, shaking off the water before folding it neatly behind him. Crawly flinched a little at the sudden movement and stared at his feet. "Ta," he muttered awkwardly. Aziraphale's return smile, more a twitch of the corners of his lips, was equally awkward as they both realised they'd probably committed something of a faux pas. What were you actually supposed to do when you were Adversaries? It was a bit late now for fighting.

"So… See you 'round. Maybe." Turning his back, Crawly tensed a little but couldn't really see how even an angel could justify smiting him immediately after protecting him from the rain. Especially not this angel. He stepped carefully across the wet stone; legs were already a little odd when he'd spent all of his time on Earth as a snake and puddles and slipperiness underfoot did not help with that.

He hadn't gone a dozen steps, though, when he heard the shuffle of quiet footsteps behind him.

Spinning, he stared at the angel. "Are you following me?"

Aziraphale looked just as startled, staring back wide-eyed. "A-apparently."

"Why?"

"I don't know," he wailed.

Crawly took a careful couple of steps backward, away from him. As if pushed from behind, Aziraphale took two stumbling steps forward.

"What are you doing?"

"I can't stop it. I'm sorry!"

"If I try to leave, will you keep following me?"

Aziraphale stared down at his disobedient feet, then looked at Crawly with big sad eyes. "Er, probably."

They'd see about that. Crawly lunged sideways, wings flaring, and threw himself off the wall. Looking back, he saw Aziraphale taking off in turn, but Crawly's were crow's wings, good for bursts of high speed and for manoeuvring. He outdistanced the angel and lost himself in the dunes, landing when his wings began to ache.

Tomorrow he'd find the humans and… something. Not apologise, obviously. He still thought She'd completely overreacted on this one (again). That was all on Her. But something. And maybe Aziraphale would be there and would have got over this weirdness and they could be… Well, Crawly didn't have words for what he wanted or that strange swooping feeling in his stomach when the angel had admitted to giving away his sword.

Whoomph!

Something struck him full-bodied, knocking him down, and his world became a blur of sand and white, white feathers.

Before he'd even started to process that, hands picked him up and set him on his feet. "Oh, I am so very sorry! Clearly I need to practice my landings. Are you all right?"

Crawly spat out sand. And a feather. A white one, and he stared at it while he spat out more sand. "Huh. Figured that'd burn, touching an angel."

Hands brushed down his robes, dusting off sand, and Crawly spun, warding them off before he realised they were trying to help. The sand shifted beneath him and gave way under his feet, dumping him on the ground again. He decided to stay where he was for the moment. It seemed safer.

Aziraphale peered down at him worriedly. "Are you all right?"

"Fine," Crawly grumbled. "No thanks to you."

"I'm sorry."

"So you should be." But, after one moment's hesitation, he took the hand offered to him (still no burning) and let Aziraphale pull him back to his feet with as much effort as if he'd been a feather and not a fully-corporated demon.

"I am sorry, truly I am."

"All right, all right, stop apologising. What are you even doing here? How are you here?"

He might not be saying the word 'sorry' but his face was saying it for him very loudly. He flared his wings. "Swan wings. No real speed, as such, but good endurance. Sor—" He caught Crawly's eye and shut his teeth firmly over the last half of the word before it could escape.

Crawly took a deep breath. "Okay, fine. Now: why?"

"I don't know! I just—I follow you. And I don't know why. It's, it's what I have to do. I'm sorry, Crawly." He swallowed, clearly steeling himself, determination filling his face. "Now that I know what's happening, I will do better." He sat suddenly, plumping straight down in the sand. "If you go now, I'll wait here until you've gone." He wrapped his arms around his knees and buried his face in them. Crawly stared at him. "Are you gone?" Aziraphale asked into his knees.

"No, I—"

"Please go. Don't tell me where."

Still staring, Crawly took two slow steps backwards. Aziraphale flinched and he paused. Another step and Aziraphale pulled himself tighter into his ball. Another step and he whimpered. Cautiously, carefully, like he was treading on ice, hating himself, Crawly took one more step. Aziraphale keened, high and shrill.

But he kept in his tight little ball, huddled in on himself on the sand. Crawly hesitated. This wasn't right. How could Crawly's distance do this to an angel? He was a demon. This had to be some kind of trickery, right? Maybe he'd lied about the sword, too.

He took one more step back. Aziraphale screamed and toppled over as if he'd been run through with that flaming sword of his.

Crawly didn't even remember getting to his side or dropping to his knees. "It's okay, I'm here, it's not—"

Aziraphale curled into him like a wounded animal, burying himself in Crawly's side, crying desperately into Crawly's robes. Crawly ran a comforting (he was a demon, he wasn't supposed to be comforting!) hand through the angel's soft curls and muttered stupid inanities as if he had any idea how to soothe away an angel's inexplicable agony.

"What," he demanded of the sand dunes, "the Heaven is going on?"

TBC

Me starting to write, looking at my scraps of notes: I wonder if I can stretch this idea out to 500 words.
Me now: Help!

P.S.: Was there a gate in Eden? I couldn't see one and it's not like the humans used one…