ETERNITY

(GOOD OMENS 3)

By FireFenix05

CHAPTER 1 . BETRAYAL

3 years ago...

Aziraphale held his breath as the elevator ascended, the feeling of Crowley's desperate kiss still lingering on his lips; the memory of his slim figure perched against the Bentley unwilling to leave his mind. If only he knew, the angel thought, if only Crowley could know how much he desired to stay with him; how hard it had been to pull away from that kiss, how difficult it had been not to say I love you. To shout it up into the Heavens and down into hell and to just not care. But he couldn't, The Metatron had made it very clear. Aziraphale could still remember every word the etheral being had said to him.

- With Gabriel's...untimely retirement, Heaven is in need of new leadership – he had said – who do you think will take his place, Aziraphale? -

- Um... - the angel looked down at his coffee, then back up at the entity sitting opossite him – Michael, perhaps? -

- Oh, no... - The Metatron shook his head – no, no. Don't be silly. There's only one candidate on the list, Aziraphale, and that's you -

- What? - Aziraphale nearly choked on his beverage – Me? Supreme Archangel? - he shook his head, politely – I don't think that will be possible -

- But of course it is – he explained, a warm, understanding smile on his face – To put forth the next step of the Great Plan we need someone intelligent, with initiative and, most important of all, with experince of how they do things here on Earth. And you, my friend, are just the angel for the job -

- But, you see, ... – the cherub pressed – I don't want to be Supreme Archangel. I have no interest whatsoever in your offer. You must choose someone else -

- Don't you want to go back home, after all this time? - The Metatron insisted.

- You don't uderstand – he glanced over at his bookshop, inside of which a very familiar silhouette paced, and his heart gave a small jump – This is my home – he smiled tenderly – It's where I belong -

- Ah, Aziraphale – the other replied, not even bothering to follow the angel's gaze – you always were a stubborn one, weren't you? Of course, you could choose to stay...- his friendly façade dissolved, leaving a stone-like sterness behind – but, thenagain, one is not to forget the consequences their actions could entail -

- Consequences? - Aziraphale turned his head towards the etheral entity, confused – What are you talking about? -

- You really do care about that demon, don't you? - The Metatron leaned closer to him, a mischeveous grin on his face – the one who calls himself Crowley? -

- I...I... - the cherub hesitated, not at all liking where the conversation was heading – I ... -

Before the angel could answer the question, however, The Metatron reached inside his coat pocket and slowley produced a small sword, the golden details of the scabard gleaming in the sun, creating an incredible contrast with its deep celestial blue colour. Its locket, pommel and cross-guard, which was formed by two intwined angel wings, had also been carefully crafted out of pure gold. Aziraphale stopped breathing. He had recognized the weapon immediately, and the one who wielded it was perfectly aware, his contempt and proudness palpable through his twisted smile.

- That's... - the little voice Aziraphale could produce was shaky – that's the Angel's Dagger... -

- Very good, cherub – he teased – very good indeed. And I assume you are aware of what it can do? - an evil grin flashed past his face.

- You... - Aziraphale's eyes darted back towards the bookshop, terrified, desperately looking for a pair of amber eyes, then back at The Metatron – you wouldn't...you couldn't... -

- I could – the other snapped – and I absolutely would. You will return to Heaven as its Supreme Arcangel or you will watch the demon you so pathetically love wrythe in agony as I slice his throat and embbed this dagger into his very soul -

- You monster... – tears began to fall from the angel's pale-blue eyes - You are a monster, Metatron! -

- Perhaps, Aziraphale – he replied, his gaze frightening, almost shadowing – but I am a monster with power. If you stay, he dies. If you tell him of this, he dies. If he follows you, he dies. I will not hesitate to destroy him, cherub, unless you do exactly what I say. The choice is yours -

- What kind of a choice is that? - Aziraphale said in a mere whisper, his voice trembling like gelatine

- The easy kind -

The Metatron made the dagger disappear as suddenly as he had produced it and he stood, proud of himself, beckoning the angel to do the same. Aziraphale followed him to the door of Nina's café as his tears miraculously disappeared. They stopped directly opposite the shop, and the thought of what he had to do threatened to force tears back down his cheeks. For Crowley's sake, he had to keep his composure, so he fought the tears back.

- Smile, silly angel – The Metatron teased, Aziraphale struggling not to deck him right there and then – and go tell your friend the good news -

- Yes... - he took a deep breath and plastered a painfully fake cheerful smile on his lips – yes, of course...jolly good... -

And with that he crossed the road to his shop, encountering Nina and Maggie as he entered it, ready to do anything to keep Crowley safe. If he had only known...

...

It was a nice day in London. Not all the days had been nice, and there had been rather too many of them; at least, according to the young girl who sat in silence that night in a completely deserted St. Jame's Park. It was the first day that it hadn't rained for the previous few weeks so, of course, the whole of London had stayed indoors, including the ducks. Eleyn didn't really care, though. In fact, she preferred it this way. She had become used to the loneliness, and she would be leaving soon either way. She looked up at the night sky, taking in its immense beauty and its mind-boggling infinty. She had always loved the stars, ever since she was a little girl. She remembered one night at that same park, many years ago, in which she had asked her mother where the stars came from. She remembered her mother's tender smile, and she also recalled how she told her that they had been all created by the angels, led by God's voice, many, many years ago. Her infantile mind had arrived at the conclusion that night that if the angels had created the stars, then they must be very good and kind. And she had continued to believe this throught her chilhood and up to her eighteen years of life. Three days ago, however, she had realized how wrong she had always been.

Three days ago, Eleyn had had a mother, a father and a little brother. Three days ago she had had a beautiful, happy home, wonderful friends, and a dog called Cinnamon. Three days ago she had had grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. She was happy. Incredibly happy. But two nights ago, the angels had appeared. She still couldn't decide whether it had been a dream or reality, but they had been there, three of them, and they had asked whether she loved all she had. Her family, her home, her life. All she did was reply "yes", and they destroyed everything.

When she woke up to days ago, she didn't have anything at all. They were all gone. Every single one of them had simply vanished from reality. It was as if though they had never existed; as if nobody except her remembered that they were ever alive. Eleyn had woken up in a room which wasn't hers, all her belongings neatly packaged in boxes and bags around her. She had immediately panicked and ran out of the room into a long hallway. There, she was met by a nun she'd never seen before who insisted she knew her. Eleyn immediately demanded to go back to her family, to which the nun had responded that she didn't have one. Eleyn didn't believe her then, but she was right. Her home was occupied by people she didn't know, and nobody remembered her parents, or her brother, or Cinnamon. This morning she had turned eighteen, and the nuns hadn't been slow to kick her out of the adoption centre. She had nothing. She had nobody. She was alone.

Since then, she had gifted or thrown away everyhting she owned except for the clothes she wore, the pendant that hanged from her neck; and her father's old gun, which she held lazily in her left hand.

She had chosen this place because of its silence, its loneliness and its darkness.

"After all" she thought, looking straight into the barrel "It wouldn't be the first time someone came to die at St. Jame's Park "

...

A single angel paced in one of the many pearly-white and pristine rooms of Heaven, his crimson hair elegantly resting on his shoulders. As he walked back and forth from one side to the other of the room, the angel muttered nervously under his breath. It had been a year since the creation of the universe, which included his beloved nebula, and the idea that it was one year closer to being destroyed consumed him in such a way that he somehow found the courage to summon the Supreme Arcangel with the intention of asking questions and getting answers. However, while he anticipated his superior's arrival in that room, an unwelcome feeling had edged itself in his mind: he was nervous. Nothing could happen to him, he was certain, for merely asking questions but, regardless, he began feeling anxious about Gabriel's reaction. A thought wiggled out from the back of his head. What if that friendly cherub, Aziraphale, had been right in his advice not to push the matter further? But, thenagain, what was he supposed to do? Let everything he had worked on since the beginning of his existence vanish without trying to defend it? Without raising his voice? He was sure that Gabriel would see his point, and together they would explain everything to God and nothing would need to be destroyed.

The sudden noise of footsteps broke the angel's train of thought, and he looked up just in time to see the Supreme Arcangel Gabriel step into the room, followed by Archangels Michael and Uriel. These two he hadn't expected, he had asked to talk to Gabriel alone, but he decided not to make an unnecessary fuss about it. Gabriel would tell them everything they had discussed the second the meeting was over anyway. Gabriel put a painfully forced smile on his face and opened his arms in greeting.

- Lucifer! – he announced – bringer of light! You, my friend, have done an excellent job on that nebula of yours!

- Indeed – Michael swiftly added – the combination of colour is very gentle on the eyes. I'm sure the People will appreciate it -

- Yes, thank you – Lucifer coughed, his nerves worsening by the second – I'm...I'm quite proud of it myself -

- So, tell me – Gabriel went straight to the point of the meeting – what was it you wanted to discuss? It seemed urgent -

- It is – Lucifer nodded – I just...well...there's something I would like to ask, if...if that's alright, I mean -

- There is no law against asking questions, is there? - Uriel said, the usual hint of distrust in her voice

- Not that I know of! - Gabriel's smile somehow became even more forced – what's bothering you, Lucy?

- Well – the angel began, still not completely sure whether he should – I...so...so God has created an infinite, wonderful universe full of stars and planets and, well, everything – he laughed nervously.

- That's right – Gabriel nodded

- And, um... - Lucifer gulped hard – and then She's...She's simply going to tear it all apart in about six thousand years' time... -

- Five thousand nine hundred and ninety nine years, to be exact – Michael corrected.

- Thank you, Michael – the Supreme Arcangel said, then directed his attention back at Lucifer – It's a little more complicated than that, but essentially, yes -

- Right. Um... - the angel braced himself -...why? -

- Why is it more complicated? - Gabriel hadn't understood the question – well, for starters there's the Earth, and then the people, and... - he was abruptly interrupted.

- No, no – Lucifer gulped – I meant to ask...um...why destroy it all? -

Silence fell between the four angelic beings in the room. The Archangels looked at one another, a general understanding setting between them without the need to use words. Gabriel flashed on a smile, this one the most forced yet, and responded.

- Because – he said – God says so. It is the Divine Plan -

- Well, yes – Lucifer nervously replied – I understand, but... -

- It's settled then! - Gabriel clapped his hands together – your question has been answered. Have a good day, Lucifer -

- I ... - Lucifer wasn't at all satisfied with the answer Gabriel had given him, but he knew he had to control himself, so he turned and made for the door – yes...thank you...um...goodbye -

One thing that the Archangels never knew about Lucifer was he had an exceptional sense of hearing. He could hear mere whispers from a prudent distance like if they were being said to him an inch from his face. He never really knew why, it was just something he could do. And today, his good ear helped him hear what Gabriel said to Uriel and Michael the second he thought Lucifer was out of earshot. "can you believe that guy?" he told them "worried about his nebula...what a sentimental idiot. And, honestly, I think he overdid it a little bit...I mean, come on, it's just the background. No need for all that detail ". And that did it. Those words, which hurt like hellfire in his heart, was the last straw. He couldn't hold back anymore, he was furious, and so, to the Archangels' surprise, he stormed back into the office and began raging at them, his eyes swelling and reddening by the second.

- It's the universe, not some fancy wallpaper! It's not put there to twinkle! It's beautiful, and ethereal, and...and so full of life. Destroying it is complete idiocy! – he took a breath, a veil of unfallen tears covering his eyes – hypocrisy, that's what it is!

- I advise you to stop talking, Lucifer – Gabriel said, his tone threatening.

- No! - Lucifer continued his furious monologue – somebody needs to acknowledge the fact that God's plan doesn't make a bit of sense! She creates a vast universe with millions of planets, trillions of star systems, billions of...everything, just so a few People can look up and go – his tone turned to one of mockery – "ooooh, look at the little twinkly bits, how pretty" and then just blow everything up!? - tears were on the verge of falling – can nobody really see the pointlessness of it all!? - he sounded desperate.

- You dare question the will of God? - Michael said in utter rage and disgust – you have the audacity to insult the Divine Plan? -

- Yes, I do! - Lucifer was desperate to make them see his point – because it's not fair! None of it is! You can't create life and then take it away! That is unquestionably cruel! - he groaned – no, Michael. I have the right to doubt the Almighty! The so-called merciful God! -

- ENOUGH! - Gabriel roared out of the blue, scaring Lucifer out of his mind – I will have no more of your blasphemy! The Great Divine Plan has been written by God and it is perfect and sacred! It must not, cannot, be interfered with! -

- THAT DOESN'T MEAN IT SHOULDN'T BE! – Lucifer roared back, then fell in complete silence, not believing what he had just said. He had been waiting to say it for ages, but he'd never had the nerve to until now.

Michael, Uriel and Gabriel were left speechless. The Supreme Arcangel's forced smile was long gone, now replaced by a most natural mixture of anger and utter disgust. Lucifer felt a chill go down his spine as Gabriel took an autoritary step forward, his wide frame casting a shadow that enveloped the angel like a ferocious claw he couldn't escape. He had never been so afraid of the Supreme Arcangel, and yet the fiery rage he felt towards his boss only seemed to grow. Gabriel took a deep breath, his terrifyingly infinite magenta gaze locked on Lucifer.

- Lucifer – he began – bringer of light. Angel of cosmic creation...you have sinned, you have questioned the Almighty and you have clearly exposed your will to thwart the Divine Plan. You leave me with no choice... -

- Go ahead – Lucifer said nonchalantly – demote me. Put me in the 38th, I don't care. I have made my point -

- Oh, Lucifer – Gabriel gave a half-chuckle, clearly amused by the situation – you're going much, much lower than the 38th. . To bathe in pools of boiling sulphur -

- What?! - the angel's reality suddenly came to a halt. He could feel the cold dagger of betrayal on his back, and the invisible hand of fear grabbing his neck.

Gabriel forcefully waved his hand, and Lucifer felt Heaven shake beneath his feet. He looked behind him, and what he saw shattered his soul into a million pieces. A giant precipice had been opened meters away from him, vicious flames of hellfire sprouting out of it. With a pang of horror, Lucifer realized what was about to happen. He was about to be cast down to hell. He was about to become a demon. His breathing got shallower and shallower, his heart felt like it had gone up to his throat. Tears finally began rolling down his face as the cruel truth settled in. This wasn't fair. He had just come for answers, he only wanted to protect the beauty of his creation. How was that wrong? How was that sinful?

- Please... - Lucifer turned back to Gabriel – please, no...you can't...you can't do this to me... -

- Oh, but we can – Gabriel stepped forward as he said these words, forcing Lucifer to walk backwards towards the ripple– and it is a wonderful way to get rid of annoying little pests such as yourself -

- No, no, please... - the angel had begun to hyperventilate – you can't... - desperate, he looked over Gabriel's shoulder as they both took another step – Michael! Uriel!...please...please... -

- Your pleads are worthless, Lucifer – Gabriel recovered the cowering angel's gaze and accelerated his pace – it is too late. You are no longer an angel, you have fallen -

- Why? - Lucifer said, gasping for breath between sobs and tears – how? - he took a deep breath for one last, desperate attempt – I JUST WANTED ANSWERS! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?! WHY ARE YOU...AHHH! -

When he attempted to take another step back to create more distance between him and Gabriel, Lucifer's foot, instead of landing on the surface behind him, found a void of emptiness which made him topple backwards on the very edge of the precipice, the Supreme Arcangel's tight grip on his robes the only thing keeping him in Heaven. Lucifer said nothing, terror and shock freezing the words before they could even attempt to exit his being. He hung there, feeling hopeless, feeling small, feeling...rejected.

- You think I want to do this, Lucifer? - Gabriel said, cruelly igniting a spark of hope inside the fallen angel – I mean, do you have any idea of the amount paperwork this whole circus is going to mean? - he laughed at himself as Lucifer felt that cold dagger sinking further into his soul – Actually, I guess you never will know – he plastered his impossibly fake smile on his face – Bye bye! -

- NOOO! -

Everything seemed to slow down as Lucifer's reality dissolved around him. Gabriel let go of his clothes and, with a forceful push, nudged him off the cliff. He, the other two Archangels and all Heaven disappeared above him. In a desperate attempt to save himself, he extended his wings; but it was useless. Instead of flapping to his command they stayed immobile as the first flames of hellfire reached them. Lucifer screamed in pain and horror as the fire began to consume him, burning away his clothes, burning each and every one of his well-kept, marble-white feathers and turning them a deep, hellish black. A jolt of immeasurable pain crawled up his spine when his angelic essence began tearing itself apart from his soul. Physically, he was well aware of what was happening, but his mind refused to get around it. The betrayal had left an eternal scar, and Gabriel's mockery had hurt him deeply. Finally, he decided fighting it was no use, so he just let himself fall, helplessly, to wherever he would arrive. So he fell, and he cried, and he screamed in pain over and over again. And he continued to fall, and fall, and fall. In one instant, a strong blaze of hellfire and sulphur reached his eyes and burnt through them sending a wave of infernal pain; but he couldn't scream anymore, he had run out of breath. Then, just as suddenly as he had started to fall, he stopped with a loud thud, his naked body flopping to the ground like a rag doll, covered by his burnt wings. When he managed to breathe again, he sat up and allowed his wings to wrap around him as he watched their darkness in horror. He felt a jolt of pain through his left jaw and clung to it tightly, crying. A symbol of some kind had just been engraved under his ear, leaving behind a stinging ache. He watched as the very last of his grace left his chest and dissipated into thin air despite his desperate attempts to grab it. Then, all the pain subsided, and he was left there, crying, shaking, feeling like a failure, discarded from Heaven just like that, thrown away like a piece of trash. The tears cascaded down his face, tears of impotence, as he muttered under his breath:

It's not fair...