GOOD OMENS 3

FireFenix

Chapter 5

Yeah, sorry in advance...

CHAPTER 5 – CHOICES

Down below in the fiery depths of hell, a demon and an Archangel who wasn't really an Archangel hastily read through hundreds of thousands of documents and paper folders in a desperate attempt to find one which would list the whereabouts of the original Gospel of John. Having already skimmed through the entire rear wall, Aziraphale, still disguised as Michael, had moved on to the desk, searching its drawers for any information that could be of use to them. In the meantime, Crowley continued inspecting crates and boxes on the other side of the room, relentlessly groaning and angrily muttering under his breath, complaining that demons were so inept with technology that they hadn't even digitalized their archives. The angel had just extracted an ominous blue-black folder from the desk and was about to open it when Crowley produced a softer groan, drawing his attention. When he looked up, he quietly observed as he stretched his serpentine neck to one side and then the other, releasing a small sigh of relief .

Aziraphale noticed then that he hadn't really had a chance to properly take Crowley in, given the fastness of the night's events. During the three years that they'd been apart, the demon had let his gorgeous flaming hair grow to about chest length, its curls elegantly lying on his ever-stylish black jacket. His tall and snaky frame was exactly how the angel recalled yet his eyes, now hidden behind the dark lenses of his sunglasses, never ceased to leave him breathless. They always had, at least as long as Aziraphale could remember. They were golden and deep, like pools of liquid gold, and his dark, vertical pupils gave him an air of mystery and cryptic elegance which only enhanced his devilish charm. The angel couldn't help a small, hidden half-smile as he noticed the way Crowley held himself, his slightly slouched posture always conveying that perfect combination of toughness and comfort. His movements, as opposed to Aziraphale's deliberate, calculated ones, were sharp and quick; and in this occasion, nervous. Said nerves, however, had more than one effect on him. Once in a while, when he was particularly annoyed, he let out a hiss, soft and almost indistinguishable but to the trained ear of the bookseller, whose face would light up every time this occurred. His lips had already begun tracing a tender smile when he felt a jolt of pain through his left arm and clung to his wrist tightly, letting out a gasp which caught the demon's attention immediately.

- Angel? - he said, a slight hint of worry in his voice.

- Nothing - Aziraphale brushed it off, slowly releasing his wrist - I'm quite alright -

-Ngk -

After throwing the angel a worried glance, Crowley spun right back around and resumed his search amongst the crates. With the demon facing the other way, Aziraphale drew a deep, shaky breath and placed a hand on his chest, sweat beginning to trickle down his forehead as a wave of exhaustion took over his senses. Aziraphale was not alright, he was agonizing. He had been in metamorphosis for at least fifteen minutes now; and it was sucking the energy out of him, but it was imperative that they found the list, for humanity's sake. Deciding to get his mind off the pain, the angel opened the folder he'd extracted from the desk drawer and began reading. The moment his eyes hit the first line of the page, however, Aziraphale's blood froze inside his veins and his lungs ceased to work.

- AHA! - Crowley triumphantly cried - Got it! List of forbidden books and texts! Let's see... - he began skimming through the paper folder, his frustration only growing - Is this written in bloody cypher? - he groaned - Oh, forget it, I'll take the whole thing up to the cherub, she'll know what to make of it. C'mon, let's get the hell out of...-

The look of sheer horror on Aziraphale's face made Crowley stop dead mid-sentence and swallow hard. The angel glanced up at him and away from the document he read for a fleeting moment, and the demon could see the panic in his eyes.

- What? - he asked, quickly joining him behind the desk.

- This... - the angel had lost his speech - is much worse than I thought...look...- he beckoned him to read the document and, when he did, his pupils dilated in shock.

- What? - he asked again, this time with an incredulous tone - How is this...what? - he reiterated.

- A signed pact of alliance between Heaven and Hell...but why? - Aziraphale stuttered, his voice a mere whisper.

- You tell me - Crowley snarled, his eyes fixed in the bottom of the page - You were the one who signed it -

It was Aziraphale's pupils which now dilated in pure disbelief as he inspected the bottom left corner of the paper, where his signature had been written in golden ink with utmost delicacy. It was his signature, there was no doubt about it; but how it had ended up in that paper was a complete mystery to the angel.

- Crowley, I... - he breathed, his voice shaking - I have never seen this document before in my life -

The demon was already opening his mouth to say "I know" when a wave of unbearable pain coursed through Aziraphale, making him buckle at the knees and collapse on the table, his fists clenched, as a breathless gasp escaped his lips. It felt as though every muscle in his body was being torn apart at the same time. For a fleeting moment, in which his vision became blurry and his world began to spin, Aziraphale found himself fighting for his consciousness. The demon reacted on instinct and placed one hand on the angel's shoulder and the other on his chest, supporting him. Just when he thought the pain would subside, he felt it again, this time stronger, as if though his intestines were being pulled out and his lungs slowly crushed. Letting out a shriek of pain, he collapsed onto the floor; and Crowley caught him just in time for him not to hit his head on the cold pavement, his precious gold irises full of fear and concern.

- Angel! - he hissed, his voice quivering - Angel, what's going on, why…! - he stopped mid-sentence, his eyes opening wide as realization dawned on him - Fuck. How long has it been? Twenty minutes? Thirty? -

- Doesn't... doesn't matter... - the angel gasped, a delicate white light enveloping him as Michael's form became slowly replaced with his - We found...'m...okay...argh - he groaned.

- You're not okay - Crowley insisted - You're mental. You've been holding the metamorphosis for too long -

- I'm...fine... - the angel too insisted, pain written all through his angelic features, making Crowley's heart give a small, frightened jump.

- I don't like this - the demon began frenetically looking around - Dagon's been gone too long. Something's happening, we have to get out of here. Now - he propped Aziraphale up as he said this, making the angel place his arm around his shoulders.

Determined to make a run for the elevator, Crowley exited the office without hesitation. He knew the demons lurking around would see Aziraphale, and that it wouldn't take long for them to get noticed, but he didn't give a damn. The angel was in pain, and all he cared about was getting both of them out of there before they were discorporated, or worse. He'd only begun to go down the corridor, however, when he noticed a group of demons standing there, frozen in place, blocking the way. He quickly turned Aziraphale and himself around and headed in the opposite direction, his heavy breaths resonating on the walls, only to find the exact same situation. Crowley's blood pressure skyrocketed, his heart thumping far too fast for the human standard, as he frenetically searched for another exit. His eyes came upon a narrow corridor exactly opposite Dagon's office, and he rushed towards it without a second thought. The demon had taken exactly two steps into the darkened corridor when he froze, hesitating for half a second before making the safe choice and taking a few steps back, pressing them both to the opposite wall. Charging towards them from the other side of the hall was the Archangel Michael themselves, the real one, and they weren't happy. They advanced at a breakneck pace, followed closely by Dagon, whose eyes shone with mischief and anticipation. Crowley wasn't easily intimidated; and if he ever was he would never show it, displaying his usual nonchalant, cool demeanour. However, this time it was different, the look of pure rage on Michael's face sent shivers down his spine, and the weight on his shoulders was a constant reminder of what he had to protect. Attempting to look as composed as possible, his protective instincts aflame, Crowley puffed his chest, quickly taking the angel's arm off his back, never letting go of him, and took half a step forward, making Aziraphale stand behind him as Michael emerged from the corridor, stopping mere feet away from them.

- Lost something, Michael? - Crowley hissed angrily.

- Hand him and the girl over to me and I might consider killing you quickly - they announced, their voice cold and sharp.

- Ngk - the demon scoffed - Any chance I could haggle? - he sardonically asked.

- Do I look to be joking, demon? - they said that last word with despair.

- Here's my bargain - Crowley growled - Fuck off and leave us alone, or you will burn -

- You wouldn't dare - they scoffed - You know you can't overpower me -

- Try me - Crowley breathed, never letting go of the Archangel's eyes.

- Oh, don't temp me - Michael whispered, the tension in the air palpable.

- Crowley... - Aziraphale's weak voice softly said - Don't...you can't... - he could barely put words together.

- My, my - Dagon mocked, clearly having the time of her life - Is the little Angel sleepy from the big miracle? - a mischievous smile flashed past her face - Or did Crowley go a bit too hard on you tonight? -

Aziraphale didn't have the strength to formulate an answer, but his rage was evident in his features, his jaw tightening and his breathing accelerating; and Dagon wasn't slow to notice, her smile a mix of proudness and bratty contemptuousness.

- THAT BLASPHEMOUS ANGEL BETRAYED AND ABANDONED HEAVEN! - Michael roared - THIS PANTOMIME; YOUR PARTNERSHIP, HAS GONE ON LONG ENOUGH! - they took a breath - I WILL NOT REPEAT MYSELF AGAIN! SURRENDER AT ONCE! -

- No thank you - Crowley said, seemingly unfazed by their rage, though internally he was scared to death - You know, this is the second Supreme Archangel that has betrayed - he did air quotes with his fingers - and abandoned Heaven in a row. Perhaps you should, I don't know, take a hint? - he wrinkled his nose.

- Such insolence! - Michael spat, offended.

- Indeed - Dagon took a step towards Crowley, her eyes falling to the folder in his hand - Stealing from your superior, you naughty demon? -

- Oh, just a souvenir - he sarcastically remarked - And you're not my superior - he added between gritted teeth.

- Well, I'm afraid I'm going to have to take it back, traitor - her fake politeness was painful to watch.

-'m afraid not - Crowley crossly replied.

Dagon raised her chin, her arms never leaving her back, and in a quick and sudden moment all the demons around them were armed with swords and flaming tridents. Crowley's eyes widened, and one of his arms went automatically flying outwards to protect Aziraphale as he took a step back, completely shielding the angel.

- Ha! - her cold laughter pierced through the air, an astonishing contrast to the palpable tension between them - Could you be any more pathetic? Falling for an angel! Shielding it with your own body! Please! - she mocked, both disgusted and amused at Crowley's growing resolve to protect that insignificant cherub - I said earlier I didn't think a demon could go any lower but, hell, I'm going to have to take it back! -

Crowley's breathing was heavy as he tried to decide which of Dagon's limbs to tear off first; but a few seconds after he was hit by a realization, his eyes darting upwards for a brief moment before glancing reassuringly at Aziraphale, then back at Dagon.

- You're right - he hissed, discreetly sliding his hand down Aziraphale's arm until their fingers found each other and became intertwined - We can't go any lower. But you know what the humans say: once you hit rock bottom, the only way left to go... - he relaxed his shoulders, letting his majestic jet-black wings out with a small sigh of relief -...is up -

Half a second later, everything began to go very fast. Crowley's wings flapped forcefully downwards at his command, and both angel and demon lifted off at a breakneck speed, followed closely by hordes of furious demons, battle cries in mouth, carrying sharp weapons and fiery arms. Aziraphale was dazed, only half-aware of what was happening; but the feeling of Crowley's fingers tightly wrapped around his was enough to keep him from unconsciousness. He suddenly felt a jolt of pain as one of the tridents being thrown at them reached him and scratched his arm, ripping the beige jacket and the shirt underneath, golden blood trickling out of the wound. The angel groaned in pain, and Crowley reacted on instinct, pulling forcefully on their intertwined hands to make Aziraphale ascend a few feet and then catching him, placing one arm around his waist and another behind his back for support.

Golden eyes looked into cerulean ones and vice versa, their bodies pressed flush against each other, and time seemed to stop for just one second in which only their shallow breathing could be heard, the battle cries becoming a mere buzz in the background. His heart hammering fast, the angel's precious blue eyes only deepening his resolve to escape, Crowley looked up, focusing his attention in one precise spot. Now came the tricky part. Breaking out of hell required something more than strength of wings. The barrier between realms wasn't at all solid, but the magic which held it was strong enough to pancakeificate anyone who tried to break through with sheer force. No, magic could only be broken by stronger magic; and right now there was nothing stronger than the hellfire burning inside the demon.

The only problem, however, was that if he did it wrong Aziraphale would get caught in the flames and burn, so a second before he called upon his fire he had to miracle some sort of protective bubble to shield the angel. A sense of fear engulfed Crowley as it dawned on him that he wasn't sure whether he could pull it off, but he pushed forward, knowing that the angel's fate would be far worse if he was caught. As the exit point began coming closer, a growing uneasiness engulfed the demon, sweat beginning to invade his forehead and waves of nausea hitting him incessantly. However, all these feelings and sensations vanished when, a moment after, Crowley felt Aziraphale's head fall on his chest, making his heart falter and his breathing stop. Right then he realized that absolutely nothing could stop him from getting the angel, his Angel, to safety. His pupils became even thinner than usual, fixed on the exit point up above, as a thin blue veil enveloped them, surrounding them completely.

And then came the fire. A ferocious flame erupted from the deepest nooks of Crowley's gut, engulfing both angel and demon, though not a spark reached either of them thanks to the protective barrier the demon had created. Mustering all his strength, he accelerated, and allowed the fire to slide out of him, making it burn stronger and harder. When they collided against the barrier, it tried to stop them, but Crowley refused to give in, his own guttural roar mixing in with the fire's as they finally broke through in a spectacular display of flames, magic and colour. The barrier closed behind them the second they tore through, making all the blood-thirsty demon soldiers plunge head-first into it before toppling back downwards.

Crowley and Aziraphale, still engulfed by the hellfire and going vertically upwards at a heart-stopping speed, broke through the layers of the Earth before emerging, by some sort of miracle, just outside the old Soho bookshop. When he felt the warm sunlight in his skin, Crowley opened his wings and both he and the angel paused an inch from the floor before falling onto the hard concrete with a loud thump, landing right next to each other, the angel on his side and Crowley on his back, desperately trying to catch his breath. The paper folder flapped onto the floor between them, completely unharmed by the fire.

For a few, long moments Crowley couldn't move. He stayed on his back, looking into the calm blueness of the morning sky, his wings slowly retreating behind his back until they disappeared completely. A soft grunt somewhere on his left told him Aziraphale was still alive, which of course was always a good thing, even though the demon very much felt like strangling him to death himself. The angel turned and landed back-first on the concrete floor, too, tilting his head to meet Crowley's gaze. They stared at each other in silence for a few seconds before the stillness of the morning was interrupted by a bell and hurried steps.

- Crowley! - Eleyn's worried voice said as her steps grew louder - Aziraphale! What happened? -

- Are you both alright? - Muriel said, her voice laced with concern as she kneeled down next to the angel, her eyes adverting the golden blood which stained his sleeve - What happened, why are you bleeding? -

- It's... it's nothing, really - Aziraphale was somehow able to say, his state still fragile. Muriel carefully but decisively placed her hand on the wound and began healing it, a soft warm light emanating from her palm.

- That fireball - Eleyn inquired, helping Crowley sit up - Was that you? Did they set you on fire? - her eyebrows were knitted in both concern and confusion.

- I'm okay - he groaned - Really, I'm fine - he added , seeing he'd not convinced her.

- There, all fixed - Muriel said, finally pulling her hand away from the spot where Aziraphale's wound used to be and helping him up - Is that the list? - her eyes darted to the paper folder on the floor.

- Yes - Aziraphale whispered - We didn't know what to make of it, so we decided to bring it to you... - he winced, finally sitting up.

-Yeah, alongside about a legion of very unhappy demons which will be here as soon as they get through the paperwork - Crowley hissed, trying very hard to keep his composure - So we need to move it. Cherub, grab the folder and run into the bookshop, get anything edible, then go straight into the car. Eleyn - he turned to her as he stood - Help me get Aziraphale into the copilot's -

Muriel followed the demon's instructions without doubt or hesitation, racing into the shop and diligently throwing all her tea biscuits into the bag of Eccles Cakes Nina had brought. Meanwhile, Crowley and Eleyn helped the angel into the Bentley, which seemed to cooperate by leaning slightly down to make it easier for them.

- And the money? - Eleyn reminded, taking the angel's arm off her shoulder- If we're running away, we'll need money -

- I've got us covered - he assured her, closing the door and beckoning her to go into the back.

Crowley jumped in front of the wheel just moments before Muriel came flying into the seat behind him; and the Bentley's engine came to life with a roar even before the demon had a chance to glance at the ignition key. He pressed the accelerator hard and began navigating the streets of London Soho, his objective being exiting the city as soon as possible.

- Where exactly are we going? - the young cherub inquired.

- You tell me - he said, gesturing to the dark blue folder - Here, give me that - he added, snatching the bag of edibles from her hands and throwing it over to Aziraphale.

- Oh, thank God! - the angel sighed, opening the bag and stuffing an entire Eccles Cake in his mouth - Mhm...ignrdnedd thagth...fo gwofg - he swallowed - Sorry, I meant to say they're just what I needed. I take it Nina stopped by? - he took a healthy bite out of another cake.

- Yeah, her and her partner wanted to say hello...- Eleyn said, slightly perplexed at the scene - Listen, you mind explaining to me what the hell happened? -

- Yes, Angel - Crowley hissed, furious - Tell them what happened, hm? -

- Why are you so cross? - Aziraphale asked after swallowing yet another piece of pastry - We found the list, did we not? -

- Why am I...? - he breathed, his blood boiling - You could've died! We could've died! -

- But we didn't - the angel fought back - I knew the risks, Crowley. We both did - he made to take another bite of Eccles cake before the demon's voice interrupted.

- Oh, did you? - he mocked - Did you know the risks of metamorphosing for so long? Huh? -

- Oh, I'm well aware that... - he couldn't even finish the sentence.

- Don't talk to me about fucking risks, Aziraphale! - he raged - Do you have even the slightest idea of the risk I took with the hellfire? Of the risk you made me take? -

- Well, I... - he was cut off by the demon once again.

- I could've burnt you to a fucking crisp! - he insisted - I could've destroyed you, goddammit! -

- But you didn't! - Aziraphale reiterated.

- BUT WHAT IF I HAD?! - Crowley exploded - WHAT THEN?! WHY DON'T YOU GIVE A DAMN?! -

- I don't think there is any need to raise your voice whatsoe... -

- NO NEED ?! FUCK YOU! - he yanked his sunglasses from his face, revealing his bright golden pupils - I'M MAD AS HELL, I'LL RAISE MY DAMN VOICE! - he didn't even pause to breathe - YOU COULD'VE KILLED YOURSELF! -

- I'M ALIVE! I'M FINE! WE'RE ALL FINE! WILL YOU STOP IT?! - Aziraphale couldn't hold it in any more – I DID WHAT I HAD TO DO! -

-DID WHAT YOU HAD TO DO! - he groaned – HAS THAT BECOME YOUR NEW FAVOURITE BLOODY EXCUSE?! YOU WENT BACK TO HEAVEN BECAUSE YOU WERE DOING WHAT YOU HAD TO DO, YET YOU REFUSE TO… ! -

- OH, HERE WE GO AGAIN! - Aziraphale rolled his eyes in an over-exaggerated manner.

- YES, HERE WE GO AGAIN! - Crowley hissed, his temper only rising – ALL I WANT IS TO KNOW WHY; AND YOU REFUSE TO TELL ME! -

- THAT'S RIGHT, I DO! - the angel stood his ground – AND IT'S EXACTLY WHAT I'M GOING TO KEEP DOING, TO PROTECT YOU! -

- HA! PROTECT MY ASS! -

- SINCE WHEN HAS IT BECOME SO HARD FOR YOU TO TRUST ME?! - Aziraphale inquired, his patience quickly running out – AFTER SIX THOUSAND YEARS…! -

- MORE! - Crowley corrected, the conversation becoming a screaming match at this point – MORE THAN SIX THOUSAND YEARS! AND I TRUSTED THAT WE HAD GOTTEN OVER THE POINT OF CHILDISH FUCKING SIDES-PICKING GAMES, BUT NO, I'M STILL "THE BAD GUY", AREN'T I?! - he stopped for a brief moment, breathless – THAT'S WHAT YOU SAID, REMEMBER?! I TRUSTED THAT YOU GAVE A DAMN ABOUT OUR FRIENDSHIP, ABOUT US, AND I WAS WRONG, SO EXCUSE ME FOR HAVING MY DOUBTS! -

- YOU'RE TALKING LIKE I HAD A CHOICE! - the angel said, desperate – CROWLEY, I DIDN'T HAVE A… !-

- YOU HAD THE CHOICE TO STAY! - the demon hissed, smoke quite literally coming out of his veins and through his skin - YOU HAD THE CHOICE TO STAY, AND YOU LEFT! AND WHAT DO YOU DO, WHEN YOU COME BACK?! TRY AND KILL YOURSELF, NATURALLY! WHAT IF I HAD LOST YOU?! -

- WE HAD TO GET OUR HANDS ON THAT LIST, CROWLEY! IT WAS A BIG RISK, YES, BUT NECESSARY! - Aziraphale raged - FIND THE BOOK, SAFE ELEYN, SAFE THE WORLD! THAT'S WHAT'S IMPORTANT! THAT'S WHAT MATTERS! -

- THAT'S ALL IT IS FOR YOU, THEN?! - Crowley exploded like a volcano – THAT'S THE ONLY REASON YOU CAME BACK?! -

- YES! -

Everything went silent, and Aziraphale's trembling hand sprung to cover his mouth, an immediate sense of regret invading his very being. Crowley, whom the angel dared not look in the eyes, felt his heart shatter inside his chest. He hadn't expected an answer; and certainly not that one. His lips trembled, and tears adorned the corners of his golden-red eyes, ready to fall any moment and never stop. He had been foolish enough to believe Aziraphale actually cared, and he got hurt. Again. How could he be so stupid? Of course, Crowley knew the answer to that question far too well, but this fact only deepened his pain. He took a shaky breath, considering for the first time in six thousand years that maybe, just maybe, he had gotten it wrong from the beginning. That where he'd seen something special, Aziraphale had seen something completely different. Perhaps, he thought, there was no point in fighting for them.; perhaps it was time to give up. He nodded his head slowly, biting his inner lip to stop himself from crying.

- Okay – he whispered, a single tear rolling down his cheek, his voice showing the most vulnerability it ever had.

- Crowley, that's not what I… - the angel's voice trembled, just like his hands, his normally cheerful cerulean eyes reddened and full of sorrow.

- I don't care – Crowley snapped, quickly drying his tears and expertly putting the dark sunglasses back on his face – Cherub – he addressed Muriel, who'd been intently listening alongside Eleyn from the back of the Bentley, making her give a small jump – Tell me where to go – he ordered.

- Um...well, yes...hang on, I've seen it here somewhere… - she nervously looked through the page she'd been inspecting before the argument broke out - ...nope...no...not that one either...Gospel of John Manuscript, there it is! - she laughed nervously, and the demon threw her a very unamused glance through the mirror, making her gulp - ...um...last known location...Dalkeith Palace, near Edinburgh, Scotland! -

- We'll be there in four hours, four and a half if there's traffic – he pressed the accelerator – Try to hold on -

The Metatron, now in a corporeal form rather than that of a floating head, angrily paced in front of Michael, Dagon, Uriel and Saraquel, his heavy steps resonating through the marble-white and pristine walls of Heaven. He had had enough of both the two idiots he was trying to hunt down and the idiots doing the hunting; and his exasperation was palpable through his furious groans and irregular breathing, alongside the erratic steps he took back and forth in the isolated room. Michael and Dagon had just finished explaining the events which had gone down in Hell. How Dagon had inadvertently let Aziraphale in, how she'd found herself face to face with the real Michael, already meeting with the dark council discussing reinforcements, when she could swear she'd left the Archangel back at her office with Crowley; and how the two of them, Crowley and Aziraphale, had managed a last-minute miraculous escape. Not long after Dagon finished talking, the Metatron stopped his pacing and turned to her.

- Metamorphosis! - he bellowed, his voice deep and mocking – How could you fall for that, you fool?! -

- How the hell was I supposed to know? - she scoffed, barely intimidated by the powerful entity, as he begun pacing once again – He looked bloody identical to Michael! -

- Please – the Archangel rolled their eyes – That looked nothing like me... -

- What the heavens were they doing down there, anyway? - Uriel inquired, their curiosity piqued.

- They were looking for something – Dagon explained, completely ignoring Uriel and addressing The Metatron instead – Something in my office. A document. They stole it and escaped with it, I saw it in that traitorous demon's hands -

- A document? - this time it was Saraquel who asked, they too longing to know more – Why in the world would they need a document? -

- Beats me – the demon said, her eyebrows raising to emphasise the point – But they took it. List of Forbidden Books and Texts, stolen right out of my desk drawer! -

Before anyone had the chance to inquire forward, The Metatron stopped dead in his tracks and hastily closed in on Dagon, grabbing the front of her attire with a shockingly strong fist and pulling so that their noses would be left just inches apart. His eyes were wide open in shock and utter disbelief; and his heavy breathing resembled that of a fighting bull ready to charge. When he spoke, his words felt like icy daggers, making even Dagon gulp.

- What did you say? -

Yay! I did it! I know I took forever with this one; but I did warn you…

Anyway, as always, thank you infinitely for taking some precious time out of your very busy day just to read the words I wrote and feel free to review for good or for bad.

What did you guys think about the argument? I hope I didn't wreck you too much :)

Stay tuned for chapter six, where we enter Scotland alongside our favourite ineffable idiots and have an ineffably wonderful week!