A note to preface this- I'm not actually sure whether to classify the story as Reverse Omens or not. At first, Aziraphale seemed the obvious choice for Maria, connections to the abbey and all. But when trying to cast Crowley as the captain, it was just too hard to come up with a reason he would possibly be so disconnected from his kids. Crowley can be aloof as well as stubborn, but he's just too good with kids. And Maria does somewhat encourage the kids toward rebellion and never fits in at the abbey, while the captain is a stickler for rules at first but has a sweet center. In that way, it seemed that Crowley better fit Maria and Aziraphale better fit the captain. So, does this make it a regular Good Omens AU, or is it still reverse because the captain takes on a very slight antagonistic role at first?

This might be entirely up to interpretation, lol. Open to hearing opinions on this, I've thought way too long about it before deciding that this version was the one I was going to write. As the outline stands, it should come out to around 16 chapters. And since I'm not coming up with an entirely new plot, I shouldn't get stuck on this one. I've got weeks left of winter break, surely it'll get done (knock on wood).

With that awfully long first author's note, start imagining the camera sweeping over the mountains and the swelling music and such.


"Mother Superior!"

The older woman turned to see two worried looking sisters slowing to a stop. "Yes?"

"We can't find Anthony," Sister Maggie fretted.

"We checked in all the usual places," Sister Nina said. She looked more fed up than anything.

"Since this is Anthony we're speaking of, I suggest checking someplace unusual," the Reverend Mother said, the corners of her lips quirking up into a smile. It was no secret that she was fond of the boy- well, he couldn't be called a boy any longer.

Anthony Crowley had been left on the doorstep of the abbey with nothing but a tattered blanket and a name nearly twenty-one years ago. It was a miracle anyone heard the thin wailing of the baby over the thunder that night, but he had been found and taken in before he froze to death, and the abbey had been his home ever since.

"Wherever he is, he'd best not be climbing trees again," Sister Michael sniffed. Maggie rolled her eyes and felt the rather unkind urge to tell Sister Michael to butt out. "He's always scraping up his knees and putting tears in his clothes. It isn't a good look."

"Astonishing for someone so vain. You should see him preening over his hair," Sister Nina snorted. She almost managed to keep all the fondness out of her tone. Though she swore Anthony would be the death of her, she really did have a soft spot for him. Her accusation, however, unfortunately had some truth to it. The boy's hair had been bright red since day one, and since he was old enough to have opinions about what he did with it, he insisted on keeping it long, braiding it up in a way that seemed almost girlish.

In the chapel, bells began to ring.

"Look at that, he's late to church. Again. And making us late looking for him."

"Who?" Sister Hattie chimed in.

"Anthony. I know this has been his home since he was a child, but- and hear me out," Michael said, "perhaps this isn't the place for him anymore."

"But didn't he plan on becoming a groundskeeper here? Working in the gardens?" Maggie protested. "This is all he knows, we can't send him away!"

"Face it: Anthony is not an asset to the abbey!"

"I'd like to say a word on his behalf," Sister Hattie interrupted.

"Then say it," Reverend Mother waved her on.

"Anthony makes me laugh! No, really, he's a funny kid, and we all love him. Even if he has his faults. Why should we think of making him go away?"

"Are you kidding?!" Sister Michael all but glared. "Even when he does show up to church, half the time he falls asleep in the pew. Up all night on the roof staring into the sky like a madman. He can't become a nun like us and won't even go to the monastery because the lifestyle doesn't agree with him. Even if he were a woman, there's no reason to keep him here."

"But as a groundskeeper-" Maggie began.

"There's not nearly enough for him to do that would keep him busy enough to stay out of trouble," Nina said.

"He's a headache," agreed Sister Micheal.

"He's an angel!" protested Sister Maggie.

"He's just a boy, you know how they are. He's not going to sit around saying Hail Mary's all day, honestly," Sister Hattie rolled her eyes.

Goodness, the Reverend Mother sighed. How does one solve a problem like Anthony Crowley?

She didn't want to be the one to broach the subject, but she could see Michael's point. Anthony was a man now, and although he loved the people who had taken him in and raised him as family, part of him grew restless. She could see it in his wistful gaze as he stared out at the hills, or the way he fidgeted in his gardening overalls, looking out over the garden patches with an unsatisfied air. Lord, she couldn't remember the last time he's been further than the town square.

Perhaps they were keeping him in a cage here- a comfortable one, but a cage nonetheless.

As if summoned by their talk of him, the long-legged, red-haired man bolted through the door, making a beeline for the chapel doors. He stumbled to a stop when he caught sight of the group, staring like a deer in headlights for a few silent moments. The collar of his button up shirt was disheveled, and the long skirt he wore was marred with grass stains near the knees. He held one shoe in his hand.

"Anthony," Reverend Mother nodded.

"Mother Superior," he nodded back, breathless from the run.

She looked at him, and no longer saw the chubby baby, nor the 'why why why' toddler, or the stubborn child, or the gangly teenager. She saw a bright and energetic man who was now taller than she was. With nowhere else to grow to. The sight of him here now brought to mind those plants he would take out of their pots to find the roots bunched up in the bottom, needing to the broken apart and placed somewhere they could expand.

With a lump in her throat, the Reverend Mother realized she was going to have to write some letters.

"Well, the service is beginning, and Anthony has been found. Let us all hurry."

The letters could wait for the next hour. For now, she sat in a pew with the man she saw as her son and let him doze off against her shoulder in the middle of the halleluiah chorus, shaking him awake when it was time to receive communion.


"Frances- I mean, Reverend Mother, if this is about the shingle that fell off the roof, I want you to know that I fixed it already," Anthony started in on his explanation before he even sat down on the other side of the desk. "I just can't help it. I know the stars are out there and the view isn't nearly as good just from the window, and then time gets away from me and- oh, I know Sister Michael thinks me so lazy. I'm so backward, the sun is up and it's so easy to fall asleep, but I can't seem to relax when it's dark out."

"This isn't about your stargazing. Well, not entirely," Reverend Mother cleared her throat. "Anthony, it seems it is God's will that you leave us. At least for a while."

"What?" The boy sat up ramrod straight, a serious departure from his usual slouch. "No, Mother! This is my home; this is where I belong! It's- I mean, this abbey is my whole life."

"So far it has been. I'm not sure that's how it should always be."

"But Mother..." Anthony started to plead again, before being given one of the Reverend Mother's looks. He fell quiet, then his shoulders slouched. "If it's really God's will..."

"There is a family near Salzburg that needs a tutor until September for seven children."

"Seven children?" Anthony gaped.

"Don't you like children, Anthony?" Reverend Mother asked, somewhat bemused by his reaction.

"Well enough, but seven? Holy smokes."

"I will tell Captain Fell to expect you tomorrow."

"Captain?"

"A retired officer of the Imperial Navy. His wife died a few years back, and he is alone with the children. I understand they have a difficult time keeping a governess or a tutor there."

"Do you have any idea why?" Anthony asked, not doing a very good job at concealing his nerves.

"I'm sure the situation will become clear once you arrive and become better acquainted with the family. And I have no doubt that you can handle it. This will be good for you. You will start to see more of the world." The Reverend Mother's tone left no room for argument.

Anthony heaved a quiet sigh. "Thank you for giving me this opportunity."

The Reverend Mother reached across the desk to give his hand a reassuring squeeze. "I'm sure you will make us proud."

"I promise I'll try."