All The Lies - 5/5

[silver_sun]

Part 5



Aziraphale woke suddenly. Lying the dark, he groggily looked around, trying to make sense of what had roused him. Crowley was in bed beside him, a sleep limp hand still holding his. The starlight lamp glowed softly in the corner of the room. Perhaps it had been a dream?

Something tingled on the edges of his senses. Bright, shining and just a little bit miffed. An Archangel then.

Trying and failing to squash down the feeling of panic that they had found him, Aziraphale slipped from the bed. Hopefully he could tell whoever had come to go away before Crowley realised they were there and things went from bad to worse.

Wishing he had a little more time to compose himself, he hurried over to the door and opened it.

Outside, Uriel stood, arms folded, looking less than happy at having been kept waiting in a demon's living room. "I was beginning to think you were ignoring me," she said before Aziraphale had a chance to speak.

"Sorry, I was asleep you see. So I..." He stopped wilting under her glare.

The look Uriel gave him was glacial. "Half-naked in a demon's bed."

"I do have a name, you know."

Aziraphale turned to see Crowley leaning on the door frame beside him.

Uriel's eyes moved from Aziraphale's pale tartan pyjama trousers to Crowley, taking in the slim fitting black boxer trunks and his sunglasses, his hair tousled from sleep. "Am I disturbing something?"

Crowley gave her a sour look. "Our existence?"

"It's really not what you think." The words tumbled out before Aziraphale could stop them. Excuses and apologies bubbling to the surface, age old fear making his heart pound. "We haven't...we weren't....I mean to say that we..."

"Shh." Crowley put a hand on his arm, grounding him. "You owe them nothing. No apologies."

Blanking Crowley entirely, Uriel held out her hand, beckoning Aziraphale to come with her. "We need to talk. Now and in private. Dress and return to your place of business with me at once."

Sick fear crawled over him. What if it was a trap? What if the other archangels were waiting for him? What if they discorporated him? He'd never get another body, they never allow it. Adam wouldn't be able to help this time, no one would. What would they do to him to get him to abandon his life, to abandon Crowley? Would they make an example of him? Would there be some kind of public punishment to terrify the other angels, to stop them from becoming like him? He tried to take a calming breath, but it stuck in his throat. "No. I...I don't want to."

Taken aback, Uriel withdrew her hand. "Why must you insist on being so difficult?"

"I'm not being difficult. Anything you need to say to me, you can say to Crowley. You..." Aziraphale stopped, pressing a hand against his chest. He felt breathless, lightheaded, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. "Because...well umm...because I'll tell him any way."

"Very well, if you're going to be like that," she said, sounding less than happy. "I know that Gabriel visited you to discuss certain matters including your role in what is currently going on. There have been a few issues in Heaven with angels-"

The rushing noise in his ears got worse, drowning out what she was saying. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead and he staggered, the room spinning wildly away from him. Was he falling? Was this-

An arm wrapped itself about his waist, keeping him on his feet, anchoring him to reality. Crowley's usual sarcasm was shot thought with worry as he spoke close to his ear. "No fainting, I mean it."

Words wouldn't come. Closing his eyes, Aziraphale leant against him and nodded.

"What is wrong with him?" Uriel asked, sounding suddenly uncertain. "What have you done to him?"

"Me! what have I done?" Crowley snapped back indignantly. "How about you ask Gabriel?

"I fail to see..."

"Oh well there's a surprise. Look that's your problem, not mine." Crowley turned his attention back to Aziraphale. "Come on, time to sit down before you fall down."

Still shaky and a little unsteady on his feet, Aziraphale sank down gratefully onto the sofa as soon as they reached it. Crowley draped thick, soft throw that definitely hadn't been there a moment ago about his shoulders and then sat down next to him.

Uriel watched them for a moment surprise growing on her face. "You love him."

"We are meant to love," Aziraphale said, pulling the fuzzy, midnight-blue fabric around him. "More than anything that is our purpose. I cannot and will not be sorry for being as She made me."

"Not you." Uriel pointed at Crowley. "That...thing. The demon. How can It do that?"

"Thing. Demon. It. Well isn't that just charming. It's Crowley. Crow-Ley. Two syllables. Really not that tricky." He gave her an irritated look that somehow managed to be conveyed despite the glasses. "You know the one who helped screw up the whole end of the world thing for you."

"But you shouldn't love him," Uriel persisted. "You can't."

"Why not? We were all angels once," Crowley said, quieter than usual. "Falling didn't change..." He stopped, genuine raw hurt on his face. "Falling was a punishment and what better punishment for a Fallen Angel than to still feel love, but know they'll never, ever deserve it. Never." He turned away, swallowing down millennia old hurt. "Seriously I thought all you angels knew that. Just something else for you to be smug about."

It felt like a punch in the gut. Had Crowley thought that about him too? The things he'd said to him...Some of them had been so thoughtless, cruel even. "Oh Crowley, my dear, you should have said something," Aziraphale said, catching his hand in his own. "Of course you're loved. I love you."

Panic, fear and desperate hope, radiated from him as he looked at their clasped hands. "You....you do?"

"Yes. I don't care who knows it. I won't hide it and I won't deny it, not any more. He deserves better and....and so do I." It was all a bit terrifying really Aziraphale decided, but for Crowley, for a chance of a life together, he could do it, he had to do it because the alternative was unthinkable. Forcing himself to sit a little straighter, to face Uriel properly, he added, "So you can report this back to Gabriel. You tell him I'm in love and I won't....I absolutely, categorically, refuse to renounce it."

Uriel looked deeply uncomfortable, but not he was relieved to see, angry. Just confused and conflicted and maybe a little bit scared.

"I won't be reporting this to Gabriel," she said, still not knowing quite where to look. "That is part of what I came to tell you. Both he and Michael are on a leave of absence. Questions have been raised and Raguel has decided to move up the internal bi-millennial audit in light of what happened with the Anti-Christ and Armageddon not happening."

"Oh." There really wasn't a lot else to be said, Aziraphale decided. Raguel, officially the Angel of Justice, and unofficially Mr Bureaucracy, wasn't exactly good news. He was at least fair, impartial and probably had never had a thought that he hadn't cross referenced against at least a dozen different rules before he dared to think it.

Uriel smiled uneasily. "Indeed. There are concerns that certain things have been mismanaged, that perhaps mistakes have made."

"The whole cooperating with Hell to try to kill us thing?" Crowley shifted a little closer to Aziraphale. "Or just that you didn't manage to stop us from stopping Armageddon?"

"No. Not entirely at least," Uriel said, watching Aziraphale intently. "You turning your back on your unit, refusing to take up arms, combined with your insistence that we should seek a peaceful solution, is what is being talked about. At length I might add."

"Oh." It really wasn't what he'd been expecting. It was still worrying however, and he was grateful that Crowley was still holding his hand. "What are they saying?"

"That you cast aside your own safety, that you sought to protect Her creations even at the expense of yourself, that you did so without hope or expectation of reward. You couldn't have known that you'd succeed and that you expected punishment for protecting their lives and for seeking a peaceful solution. They are, against all expectations, rather proud of you."

It all sounded so dreadfully noble put like that. Aziraphale shifted nervously on the sofa. He hadn't been trying to be hero or really anything like that at all. He'd been terrified. All he'd wanted was his life to continue in the nice comfortable fashion he'd become accustomed to. One where he could have tea and cake, read a book and spend his time talking about things that didn't really matter all that much. Of course he'd not wanted people to die either. He liked people. People made a lot of his favourite things. They had such imaginations, the food, the drink, the plays and the music. No, Earth wouldn't be any fun without them at all.

"The point is," Uriel continued. "That no amount of threats from Gabriel can hope to counter it, not in the long term. Of course there are those that remain in agreement with him, but their arguments feel increasingly hollow and despite everything their numbers are dwindling in the face of what has become an open debate."

It was hardly war. It wasn't immortal souls being placed in peril. It was the start of a conversation, an honest discussion that had been a very, very long time coming. Gabriel had lost control and things were changing. It was strange and not a little bit worrying as nobody could hope to know where it would all end. He thought for a moment, weighing up his options. Finally he said, "And what do you think?"

"I don't know." Uriel looked uncertain, "I had been so sure before that what Gabriel had said was true, that stopping Armegedon would be a betrayal of God. Yet She has not sought to punish you. So although I don't understand what is happening I cannot and will not act contrary to Her example. All I can hope is that in time I will be granted the understanding to see her plan more clearly. I am her servant, as we all are, not Gabriel's."

It was probably the longest conversation that he'd ever had with Uriel, and Aziraphale couldn't imagine having it with any other the other Archangels. Gabriel or Michael admitting that they perhaps they had got it wrong was vanishingly unlikely.
Oddly, he thought, Sandalphon might change his mind. Not because he thought it was the right thing to do or because someone had presented him with a compelling argument. Simply it would be because he wanted to align himself with whoever was giving the orders at the end of it. He wanted to stay 'Top Dog' as humans put it and he didn't mind what principles he had to drop to stay that way.

"This is all I came to tell you," Uriel said. Turning to leave. "I think it would be best if you were to refrain from visiting or making contact for a while. Quite a long while. Things are difficult and I don't think your presence would help matters."

"Oh that quite alright, I mean, I had no plans on visiting," Aziraphale said, not quite able to believe that it was over at least in the short term. "I didn't think I'd be welcome."

Uriel nodded. "As for the situation I found here, you dalliances with the d....with Crowley, I will not include that in any report." She sighed. "I cannot understand how you can wish to be with a demon, how you can stand its presence or to be so intimate with it. Yet the love I feel here is not something I can condemn. So I shall leave it at that and think no more on it."

It was hardly a blessing, but it was far more acceptance than Aziraphale ever hoped for from anyone in heaven, let alone an Archangel. "Thank you, I...thank you for coming here to let me know what's happening."

"It's my job." She opened the door to leave. "I wouldn't have come otherwise."

"Well that went a lot better than expected," Crowley said once Uriel's presence had faded.

"Yes. Yes, I suppose it." Aziraphale looked at his hands they were still shaking slightly. "I really said all that, didn't I?"

"Needed to be said." Crowley smiled wearily and removed his glasses now that they were alone again.

The old familiar worry still lurked just under the surface, and Aziraphale watched the door, half expecting Uriel to return. "Do you think it's going to be alright now?"

Crowley was quiet for a moment, eyes closing before he finally said, "For a while. A long while. Long enough anyway."

"Long enough for what?"

"For us to have a well deserved rest, that's what." Crowley stretched and yawned, his arm finding its way around Aziraphale's shoulders. "Time for bed."

Despite having been in Crowley's bed less than an hour earlier, it still felt rather presumptuous to invite himself back into it. Once, Aziraphale knew, he wouldn't have dared to ask, now the words fell from his lips before he had a chance to talk himself out of it. "Can I join you? I mean that's if you don't mind."

"Mind?" Crowley took his hand. "Angel, you in my bed...well it's something I've wanted for...oh I don't know, a long time, ages. Seriously you could wear the most hideous pyjamas you own, I don't care."

"I don't have any pyjamas, not apart from these." Then as a after thought he added, "And if I did they would not be hideous. They would be comfortable."

"Hardly mutually exclusive though, is it?" Crowley said ushering him back through to the bedroom. "They could be soft as...as you know a soft thing, butter. I bet they'd still be tartan though. Or beige. Beige tartan. Urgh. Beige velour tartan. With a matching night cap."

Aziraphale smiled at him, letting the warm rush of emotion wash of over him. This was familiar ground, the safe good natured teasing that had been so much part of their friendship for centuries. It felt like coming home.

Slipping under the covers, Aziraphale decided in his newly found boldness that there was no point keeping his distance, and wrapped his arms around him.

Crowley was still for a moment then wriggled into a comfortable position against him. "Warm." He gave a small contented sigh. "You're so much better than a hot water bottle."

A smile tugged at Aziraphale's lips."I should hope so too."

Lying in the dark, warm cocoon of the blankets, Crowley breathing softly against him, relaxed in sleep, Aziraphale felt the lingering tension seep away. This was peace.

There would be challenges to come, of course there would. They had both been alive too long and had been witness too much to ever think otherwise. They had so many things that they should probably say or do, lifetimes of regrets, of ill chosen words and deeds, that eventually they would have to face. There was no rush for it, they weren't on the clock, not now and quite possibly never again.

They were free. Free to hope, to dream, to love. It really was rather breathtaking, he thought, not to be constantly wondering when it would all come to an end, all crash down around them.

Warm, safe, loved. With Crowley curled close against his chest, Aziraphale closed his eyes and let sleep come without fear.





End.





Notes:

Raguel is an angel mainly from Judaic tradition, and is mentioned in the book of Enoch. They are associated with justice and fairness.


Sorry this last part is so late. It just wouldn't go right at first and then I got caught up in planning for NaNoWriMo