Intercession: Aziraphale
In this part of Heaven, there were no walls or doors or offices, merely formless whiteness, and the softness of its light was blinding. It took Aziraphale's eyes a moment to adjust, during which he also became aware of the overwhelming presence of God.He bowed his head. It seemed strange to pray when She was right there —at least, that as, as 'right there' as a disembodied omnipresent deity can be— but he didn't know what else to do.
"Hello, Lord," Aziraphale said tentatively, "thank you for seeing me."
Of course, Aziraphale. You have done well.
The voice of God was all around him, inside him somehow, and Aziraphale was quite certain that if he had simply thought his words She would have responded. But it seemed important, somehow, to speak them.
"I was just wondering, what your plans were for me now."
I see no reason why you should not continue to serve as Supreme Archangel.
"Ah, well," Aziraphale fidgeted nervously with his hands. The high collar of his shirt was stiff and stifling. He thought he'd gotten used to it since he'd been back in Heaven, but it still cut at him just as it had when he'd first returned and the crisp white suit had re-established itself. "I was hoping I could ask a favour, Lord." There was a pause. Then,
You may. Your defeat of the Metatron is certainly worthy of reward.
"I would rather not be Supreme Archangel anymore, if it's all the same to you," Aziraphale looked up, though he knew he would not see God, and his violet eyes were anxious. "Surely there's someone else who can do the job. I was the Metatron's choice, after all, not yours."
Mmm. Very well.
"In fact," Aziraphale went on, pushing forward both before he lost his nerve and before God's generous mood waned, "I don't— I don't think I want to be an angel anymore." This statement was followed by utter silence, and Aziraphale wondered if he was about to be smitten. But it seemed that God was merely surprised, for after a moment she asked,
Why?
"O Lord," Aziraphale said, and the words spilled out of him now that he'd made a start, hands gesturing with the release of his nervous energy, "I love your Creation. I've loved my existence. But there's too much to being an angel that I don't love. I've never belonged here, surely you know that."
Do you wish me to erase you from the Book of Life?
"I— if you think that's best, Lord," Aziraphale stammered, "But there's another option I'm hoping you might consider."
Go on, Aziraphale.
"Earth's the only place I've ever belonged," Aziraphale said, and his chest ached. "It's the only place I've ever been any good. And… it's where Crowley is."
The demon.
"Yes Lord," Aziraphale whispered, twisting the hem of his waistcoat between his fingers, "He's my only friend."
An angel, friends with a demon?
"He was an angel once, Lord. You made him an angel. And when you cast him out, you made him a demon. He made Your stars, Lord, and everything beautiful thing in Your Heavens," Aziraphale was shaking, knowing he was speaking out of place, but could not stop himself, "and You took them from him. He never wanted to be a demon." God's next question was piercing.
Is he only your friend?
"No," Aziraphale confessed. Angels weren't supposed to be able to cry in Heaven, but a tear ran down his face. "No, he's more than that."
Can't you say it?
"I don't know how."
Do you wish me to return you to him, just as you were?
"No," Aziraphale choked, after a long silence, "I'm ashamed, Lord. I'm ashamed, and afraid, and I don't think he'll want anything to do with me. I don't think I can go back to my old life, but I don't know what else to do."
God was silent again.Aziraphale stared desperately into the formless whiteness around him. Had She withdrawn? Had he said too much? Asked too much? But Her voice returned, its tone considering.
What is it you really want, Aziraphale?
"I want—" he started, then stopped. His lips pressed together and he swallowed, struggling to say the words to God. "I just want to be happy," Aziraphale said miserably, "And I want Crowley to be happy. If that means we're together, that's what I want. If it doesn't, then… then, I suppose that's what I want. But I know I can't be happy here."
And what are you willing to risk for that happiness?
"Everything," Aziraphale answered at once, "anything. Whatever it takes."
I have a choice for you, then.
"Yes, Lord?"
I will return you to Earth. Not to your old life, but a new one. A human one. A life in which you will be happy, and know nothing of your angelic past.
"And Crowley?"
If it is meant to be, he will find you. And you will remember.
"If?" Aziraphale asked, thrown, "Don't you know if it's mean to be, Lord?"
No one can know everything, Aziraphale.
"But—" Aziraphale's mouth opened, then closed. "And… and if he doesn't?"
Then you will live a happy, mortal life.
Aziraphale was silent now, his head spinning with the choice that had just been presented to him. He gulped down panic, the uncertainty of the choice threatening to overwhelm him. To give over the entirety of his being, his past, his future, everything that he was, to chance? But it wasn't to chance. It was to Crowley.
Are you willing to trust your fate to a demon?
Aziraphale looked up, and his eyes blazed with celestial fire.
"Yes."