Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Crowley couldn't believe what he was hearing, after all they'd been through together, after all Heaven had tried to destroy him, after all the trouble he'd gone to hide Gabriel, after all... .... He wanted to go back to Heaven. He'd only neglected it for a minute and everything he'd built up had gone down the drain, what the hell had happened out there?

‘Oh, Crowley... Nothing lasts forever’.

Nothing lasts forever, if Crowley wasn't looking at them, they wouldn't believe he was the angel who had kept his wardrobe in the same style for almost a century, leaving this bookshop, the thing he fought for centuries and only hours ago was crying about losing some old encyclopaedias, Crowley knew for sure now, knew they couldn't trust Metatron.  

Crowley was devastated, they stared at the Angel for a few seconds, and knew something was definitely wrong, something had changed the Angel's aura, their aura had always been heavenly but over the centuries it had taken on a particular shape, it wasn't like that of a fallen Angel, but through Crowley's influence Aziraphale had absorbed a certain essence of this Demon that made they so different from the other Angels and Crowley secretly loved that, but now his aura seemed completely divine like the first time they saw it.

Crowley began to connect the dots and must have seen it the moment Metatron himself, second only to God, appeared in the bookshop of an Angel a bit rungs below them in rank, even considered a traitor, pretending to be a friend and offering a stupid coff-

Oh shit!

Crowley's ideas took shape abruptly. They had never given it a second thought, but there was a reason Aziraphale only drank tea or cocoa, after what happened in 1941, was a bit paranoid, plus, due to reliable sources, Aziraphale knew that German soldiers committed suicide with cyanide capsules. Crowley used to tease them because he was quite sure that Aziraphale was not two things:

1.- A professional magician

2.- A Nazi soldier

So, there was no need to worry about having a cyanide capsule embedded in them and accidentally biting it while drinking coffee with almond milk, because according to Aziraphale's research (a bit obsessive in Crowley's opinion) cyanide smells like almonds.

Their mind was wandering, or they were just searching for something to hold onto to keep their heart from breaking into a thousand pieces. However, it is possible that, without Aziraphale's presence, Crowley made a lot of foolish choices while under the influence of laudanum.  Could they have been under the influence of cyanide? Although Crowley did not appear to be out of his mind, cyanide, combined with a powerful miracle, could have used for the Angel's proposal.

It was unlikely, even for Crowley's great imagination, but they needed something to hold on to. They must be aware that their hearts may be broken., it would be by Aziraphale's decision and not by the influence of heaven, God, or any other being that might choose to interfere.

Crowley understood what was happening and grew tired of heaven's plans. Despite the thick air inside the bookshop, they remained resolute and breathed deeply.

Crowley turned on his heels and confidently feigned deep thought. As they gazed out the window, Crowley felt a shiver run down his spine as he pretended not to be in crisis (even though Crowley was in the worst crisis of his entire existence), and there he was, Metatron, it was obvious he was watching them, Crowley felt a shiver run down his spine as they exchanged glances for a few seconds, Satan himself would have been horrified to see those eyes, they could not let him know that whatever Metatron was trying to do with Aziraphale had already been discovered, so what could they do? They did not inform him that Metatron's intentions with Aziraphale had already been uncovered. They should take proper actions. Crowley confidently paced the bookshop like a lion surveying his territory, taking deep breaths to focus his mind. Suddenly, a brilliant idea materialised - a stroke of genius. It was a bold and daring plan, but he knew it was the only way forward. They were determined to make Metatron believe that everything was going according to plan, whatever that plan may be.

"Good luck"

Crowley prepared to leave the bookshop, but he was confident, God, they SURE, that the angel wouldn't give in without a fight.

'Good luck, Cro-Crowley, Crowley come back...!'

Aziraphale looked almost as undone as Crowley.

'To heaven, work with me, we can be together, angels, doing good...'

The angel's voice was beginning to crack, and it was hurting the demon's soul. Aziraphale had already made a very clear position in front of heaven, it wasn't possible that from one moment to the next that position would go to hell.

'I need you! ...'

That sentence filled the demon's heart, Aziraphale was being controlled yes, but he knew those feelings were real, he always knew that.

'I don't think you understand what I'm offering you...'

Crowley took a breath, he knew it was time to continue with his plan.

'Okay, I got it

'I understand, I think I understand it a whole lot better than you do...'

'Well... then there's nothing more to say'

"Listen, do you hear that?"

'I don't hear anything?

"That's the point, no nightingales..."

Crowley was surprised by the expression on Aziraphale's face. In all their 6000 years together, Crowley had seen Aziraphale display a range of emotions, but never resignation. However, Crowley remained confident that they could help Aziraphale through whatever was troubling them.

"You idiot, we could've been... us!"

Aziraphale averted their gaze and that was the opportunity Crowley had been waiting for, they moved in quickly, had been the last 6000 years taking courage and this was the moment to show it. Crowley took Aziraphale from their coat and kissed them, Crowley had been waiting for that moment for millennia, but always imagined it very differently, they imagined kissing Aziraphale tenderly, sometimes with more intense kisses, deeper, that showed everything Crowley had kept in millennia, they imagined it in a thousand different places, in a restaurant, under the stars, in the Bentley, in the bookstore....

Yes, they were in the bookstore, but it was not a tender kiss, not deep, it was desperate. As soon as their lips touched Crowley stopped time, they were there again, a place that was nowhere, there was no time, there was no heaven, there was no hell, there was no earth and there was no humanity, there was nothing, there was only their souls, The last time they were there was with Adam, but now it was just them, Crowley stared at Aziraphale, now being there Aziraphale's aura glowed with that warm, angelic glow, on this plane it looked totally different, Crowley knew then that his theory was true.

"You shouldn't have drunk that coffee."

"B-but Crowley what-"

Aziraphale looked so confused, disconnected, didn't realise they were no longer in the bookstore until Crowley's euphoric shout made him jump.

"Shut up!"

Crowley disregarded the loud scream and continued with a sigh, resting their hand on their hips.

"When are you going to understand that you can't trust the sky?"

Aziraphale froze, opened their mouth to take a big gulp of air, if the crisis Crowley had before stopping time could be measured on a scale of 1 to 10, it would be a 3 compared to the crisis Aziraphale was now suffering.

'Oh god, everything I said...'

"Do you remember."

'Crowley'

Aziraphale looked so confused, it broke the demon's soul.

"I know that fucker is manipulating you angel."

Aziraphale let out a bitter laugh.

'I seem to have hit rock bottom, haven't I? I wasn't even aware when it happened,' Aziraphale placed his hand on his forehead, clearly affected. 'I feel like I drank non-stop for a whole week. I couldn't control myself. Metatron...' Aziraphale paused and furrowed his brow. 'Metatron had influence over me. Heaven still exerts influence over me.'

 "But there's not much they can do if you're dealing with an angel who's already been tempted by hell," Crowley said, smiling. "You'll slowly regain control, angel..."

'Crowley, please, I don't want to go to heaven, I don't want to lose my freedom again' Aziraphale looked close to tears.

"I know, and that's why I'm doing this..."

Crowley had thought about it, but it was very different to actually doing it, they snapped their fingers and both felt a strange sensation, they hadn't changed physical appearances, that had worked once but Metatron was watching them, so Crowley, despite not being sure it would work again, did the equivalent of swapping bodies on this existential plane he had created, he swapped their souls, Crowley would inhabit Aziraphale's body while the angel inhabited Crowley's body, Crowley didn't know if it would work, previously they had only moulded their appearances, they had swapped them yes, but the bodily vessel was exactly the same, now he was swapping everything, their souls and their bodies, as the angel said when he was disincorporated, they would probably explode, but what made them an angel and a demon was not the vessel, it was the soul, so the swap was effectively done.

'What the-!'

Aziraphale could feel the change, and at once tried to return to their body, and was quite surprised when it didn't work.

"It's not going to work angel, I blocked your miracles temporarily."

Crowley showed a small piece of paper, Aziraphale had only seen it once before, in 1941 with that demon who tried to exhibit them to hell, but it didn't surprise them that Crowley had authorization to block miracles, after all they were an important demon, what surprised them was realizing that this was the first time Crowley had used it.

'But Crowley, what are you doing?' Aziraphale was now definitely in crisis.

"I can't let them hurt you" Crowley said as casually as they could, they didn't want the angel to realise how scared they were, "I can't let them take away the one being that completes my existence."

Aziraphale had to take a second to process what they had just heard, was that a statement, had spent the last 6000 years asking himself if their feelings were real, or more importantly, if they were mutual, and while they always had a suspicion that they were, hearing Crowley say it made it so real that he doubted they had actually heard it. Aziraphale was happy, thought that so many moments together had finally made sense, was about to run and hug them until they came back to the present, Crowley didn't insist on leaving, they took their body, so is going to take his place too, is they even aware of what they're doing, is they even aware of what they're doing, is they even aware of what they're doing, is they even aware of what they're doing? Aziraphale knew what Crowley was capable of, but didn't think they would ever take such action, not for them, and they quickly understood the deep love Crowley felt, and it filled them completely, but they also realised the terrible danger they would be in.

Crowley, you cannot do this, if you are found out, you will not only be disincorporated, you will be blotted out of the book of life, you will never have existed.

"And in any case, you will never have known me angel, you may not remember me, and perhaps that will be for the best."

Aziraphale couldn't believe what she was hearing, and their heart was slowly squeezing.

'You would be dead!'

The angel's voice was beginning to crack again.

'But you would be safe angel? And that's all that matters to me" Crowley smiled so peacefully, it was accepting its fate.

Aziraphale couldn't speak, he was too busy trying to hold back tears of their own.

"Listen Angel, I know that idiot is planning something, and you're probably just another pawn in his game..."

Crowley walked over to the angel and took Angel's hand.

"I'll find out what he's really going to do, I promise I'll keep you safe..."

'But I don't want to be safe, I want to be with you!'

"But we won't be able to be together until this is over, maybe Gabriel and Beelzebub could have left, but they were no longer part of the big plan, they were no longer needed, but we..."

The demon's expression could reflect nothing but sadness, longing and to extent, fury.

'We stopped the first Armageddon...'

'Exactly, we are the only ones standing between the plans of heaven and hell angel..."

'I understand, I understand everything, but please, don't do this alone Crowley, now I'm the one begging you to do this together!'

"I'm sorry, but, now I know that my existence only makes sense thanks to a bastard angel who drinks hot tea and collects books like an angel of greed..."

‘There is no such thing as the angel of greed Crowley’

"That's not the point idiot, I'm not going to let heaven make you suffer again."

'And I don't want the one who has to suffer that to be you, please, please don't do this to me!' in this point Aziraphale wasn't asking for it, she was begging for it.

Their souls stared at each other, they could see into each other so clearly, they knew there were no lies, no more, Crowley was going to do it, and Aziraphale had to accept it.

"When I reset time and release you, you are to act like Crowley do you understand?"

'Crowley...'

"Listen to me angel, no tartan, no “fru fru” drinks with little umbrellas, no following the rules and no eating drive candys inside the car do you understand?"

'No, I can't' Aziraphale was backing away, they were looking at their feet as if they were the only real thing keeping them standing at the moment, so Crowley took their hands, squeezed them tightly and forced Aziraphale to look at them.

"Yes, you can, from this moment on you're no longer an angel, you're a demon, a bastard who does whatever the hell he wants, got it?"

'Crowley'

"Don't drive like a fucking old lady, and please treat my plants badly, only then do they understand that they should grow beautiful..."

'Crowley'

"And try not to work miracles or this whole thing isn't going to work."

'Crowley!'

"What...?"

There was an overwhelming silence, there seemed to be nothing else in the universe, just the two of them, there, opening their hearts.

'Thank you...'

"Angel, you have nothing to thank..."

Please promise me you'll be safe.

"Angel, you know that's something that neither you nor I can be sure will happen."

'But if something happens to you I...I couldn't' Aziraphale finally began to cry 'I couldn't live without you' Aziraphale looked up at Crowley and through the tears was able to smile 'I need you, if you're not with me, I'll probably die'.

"And I guess that would be just the punishment they'll impose on you if something happens.

'Are you sure about doing this?'

"Very sure..."

They held hands and their gazes were so connected that their souls could merge into a star, Crowley brought close they forehead to that of the beautiful angel, closed their eyes and caressed their face, maybe it would be the last time.

'I want to ask for your forgiveness Crowley, I want to ask for your forgiveness for everything I've done and for what I haven't, for what I've said and for what I haven't, and I know that spending an eternity apologising will never be enough to achieve it, but...'

Crowley interrupted with a great laugh.

"Come to think of it, I think the hardest part will be acting like the weeping angel you are, but I'm going to try my best, I promise..."

'Don't promise me that, I want you to promise you'll come back.'

Crowley smiled, saw it one last time and their souls returned, Crowley taking on the guise of Aziraphale and Aziraphale taking on the guise of Crowley.

They took a moment to adjust to each other's bodies, Crowley thought that was enough excitement for the angel so tried to pull away, or at least that's what they wanted to convince themselves, terrified that this kiss would be the last thing that happened between them, terrified that they'd gone too fast, and, most of all, terrified that they'd be a terrible kisser.

As soon as Crowley had control of Aziraphale's body they tried to stop the kiss, but they didn't separate, at that moment they felt Aziraphale's hands (well, their hands, Aziraphale was in their body, damn, this would be confusing) grabbing their ridiculous waistcoat and pulling them closer, kissing them so passionately that at that moment they doubted that it was their angel, Crowley had never kissed before, he went into a huge panic, he didn't know what to do, did he have to close his eyes, did he have to hug him, would it be too much, his hands were trying to figure out where to place themselves, on his back, in his hair, he felt so overwhelmed at that moment, was it really happening, was this kiss really happening, and suddenly all those feelings were flooding out, finally what he had been holding in for millennia came to light, finally he could stop feeling that pressure in his chest, and for a moment, only the two of them mattered, that feeling couldn't stop Crowley's vision from blurring, tears were beginning to blur his vision, in that moment it had been too fast for him, Crowley cared so much for Aziraphale he never thought about the impact that kiss would have on himself.

Finally, Aziraphale decided to end the kiss, he didn't look upset, he didn't look nervous, but he looked... sad. Now Crowley was completely shocked, nervous and crushed, but soon heard inside their head the voice of his angel.

'Good luck...please be careful, Metatron is watching us, they waiting to come in.'

Crowley took a quick glance to see that Metatron was indeed still outside.

I promise to act like a demon, and I promise never to change the colour of the Bentley again'.

Aziraphale saw them one last time, and Crowley said only what he thought they angel needed to hear.

"I forgive you..."

Aziraphale heard that sentence and all wanted was to kiss them again, but they couldn't, Crowley knew Metatron would find them out, they had to pretend that everything had gone according to plan.

'Don't bother...'

Aziraphale felt their heart break, but they didn't turn back, just walked forward and walked out of the bookstore, Crowley was still overwhelmed, their lips felt strange, they couldn't stop touching them. Perhaps, it was the last time they could have touched Aziraphale's, a few seconds passed, and Metatron entered the bookshop.

'How did he take it?'

Crowley was startled, but he had to continue, he had to keep his composure and stick to his plan.

"Uh, not well."

Crowley tried to smile, but his soul wouldn't allow it.

'Ah well, always did want to go his own way, always asking damn fool questions, too'

Crowley was angry, was asking questions stupid, did they really do something unforgivable, that angel was really irritating him, but they couldn't ruin everything they had achieved.

'Right, ready to start?'

"But, am, my bookshop..."

Crowley had to be sure that they really wanted Aziraphale to leave the land, and he was absolutely certain that he wouldn't abandon his bookshop.

'Ah yes, well, for now I entrusted it to Muriel, so it should be in good hands.'

Crowley knew instantly that Aziraphale would hate the idea, but there was nothing else he could do, he had to go.

"Ah, but-"

'Anything you need to take with you?'

Was he resisting too much, it was obvious Crowley didn't want to leave, but it was necessary.

"No, Nothing I can think so..."

Crowley was having such a hard time not crying that they couldn't even complete they sentences.

"I think I-"

At that moment he looked up at his window, and there it was, his angel who now had the appearance of a handsome demon stood there, leaning against the Bentley staring at him. For a moment they doubted if that was really what needed to do, wished with all their heart they could turn down Metatron's offer and stay there, live in the bookstore, go on a trip in the Bentley, go to breakfast at the Ritz, but he knew this was the time to risk it all.

"Nothing at all..."

Crowley took a breath, walked out of the bookstore and followed Metatron to the elevator that would take them to heaven. Aziraphale watched them from afar, trying to keep every second in their memory, maybe it would be the last time he would see the only person who made them feel loved, really trying with all his strength not to cross that street to grab their arm and run away from there, but he knew Crowley wouldn't let them.

'Well, I can't think of a better angel to wrap this up and to set into motion the next step in the great plan.'

"Um yes, you mentioned that, can I know what it is?"

'Well, it's something we need an angel of your talents to direct, an angel who is familiar with how they do things on earth.'

Crowley was still trying with all his might to smile.

'We call it the second coming.'

Crowley felt a shudder, at that moment realised that what was going on in heaven was much bigger than their had imagined, sure, they already knew about the plans to attempt a second Armageddon when they checked Gabriel's log, but when they heard it from Metatron they felt an inexplicable fear, as if everything they worked for was in danger, and they didn't just mean humanity. It took a moment, but before they entered they swore they heard the faint sound of a miracle, Crowley definitely hadn't, turned to their back and took one last look at their angel, what had they done, nothing seemed different, still, they were very sure something had happened, they entered the elevator and Metatron pressed the button that would take them to heaven.

Aziraphale watched Crowley leave and in that moment a part of his soul went with Crowley. Aziraphale took a breath, they had to decide where to go, could they stay in their bookshop, but the sky wouldn't stop watching them, so maybe they would drive until they found a place where they felt safe. Looking around, seeing the coffee shop and Nina waving at them, thinking about how they manipulated two humans to her convenience just to save herself, she felt terrible, yes, maybe Maggie was in love with her, but that didn't give her the right to interfere with Nina's existing relationship, turned to look at their bookshop once more and couldn't help but notice Maggie asleep on the counter of the record shop, now that she knew they was an angel she wondered if they had realised that the one who had met her great-grandmother was them and not their imaginary grandfather.

Aziraphale got in the car and turned on the radio, the Bentley knew it wasn't Crowley and immediately played the last song Aziraphale requested, they listened to it for a moment, they knew they wouldn't be able to listen to that kind of music again for a while, they had to make an effort to look like a demon who likes plants and is a fan of Queen, they enjoyed every note of that short moment and turned off the radio, they waited a moment trying to imagine where they would drive to, they saw Muriel enter the bookstore and started to drive, they knew that driving under the limit wasn't Crowley's style, but at that moment they didn't feel like breaking the law, they just wanted to drive quietly, maybe that would help them think, and maybe, just maybe, they would only be able to think about it, knew that driving under the limit was not Crowley's style, but at that moment didn't feel like breaking the law, just wanted to drive quietly, maybe that would help them think, and maybe, just maybe, Crowley would feel that they is not speeding and he would hear Crowley's grumpy voice over the radio, maybe they would scold them and tell them they should drive faster, just maybe it would all be a dream and he would wake up being himself, in their angel body, in their bookshop and watching Crowley sleeping inside the Bentley.

Those thoughts made that angel, who now looked like a demon, begin to cry silently, could not be soft, could not show that it was broken, had to be imposing, had to be cunning and mocking, had to be a demon, but just maybe he could allow to feel like an angel for the last time and just maybe waited for Crowley to check his waistcoat pocket to discover that that last miracle had become an old photo from 1941.

Chapter Text

Crowley stepped into the elevator leading to heaven along with Metatron, Crowley's heart was in tatters, but a spark of hope grew in them, for the moment they had saved their angel, they didn't really know what awaited them, what important thing needed Metatron himself to poison Aziraphale? Why did the plan for the second coming take so long to arrive? Thoughts were engulfing their thoughts in a mass of dark anxiety until an irritating voice next to him brought him to his senses.

'Here we are my dear friend'

Crowley was startled a little but shook their head and smiled in the fakest but most convincing way they could.

'Oh good, I'll come after you' Crowley signalled for Metatron to move on, which, he did not.

'Are you all right, sonny boy? You look a bit...'

"I'm fine, I'm just still processing all of this."

Metatron let out a laugh (that in Crowley's opinion was too fake and fancy) and grabbed Crowley's shoulder, they were sure that if he didn't look like Aziraphale surely, they would have punched that stupid beard by now.

'Good, I'm so glad you're taking this so well, we were worried about the choice you would make' Metatron said as he finally started to walk.

"Really, why?"

'Strange you should be asking, you halted a 6000 year plan, you allied yourself with a demon and abandoned your status as an angel...' Metatron was counting on his fingers all the reasons why Aziraphale was no longer welcome in heaven.

Then what the hell do you want from Aziraphale, dickhead?

Metatron spoke to him in an uncomfortably casual way, as if they had been friends for years who hadn't seen each other in a long time.

'Actually, I was hoping you'd say no to the offer, but...'

"But..." Crowley let the word trail off, waiting for Metatron to continue, whatever he could get out of him in conversation would do.

Metatron was silent, Crowley wanted to know the extent to which his manipulation would go.

'No, nothing, good that you decided on your own to return, we need hands here, especially after Gabriel.'

'I understand, I'm glad I can help'

Crowley was seething inside, the fucking bureaucracy of Heaven had always been questionable, but he didn't think it could get any worse over time, how many things had Aziraphale endured? Metatron directed Crowley to what appeared to be a common room, it was a room relatively the same as the others with the exception of the presence of an extremely long glass table, so much so that it gave Crowley the feeling of an infinite table.

"Come, take a seat next to me" Metatron signalled next to him.

Metatron sat down in the chair at the head of the large table and pointed to an empty chair next to him, it took Crowley a second to react, but pretended to take the seat eagerly, this wasn't going to end well, from the start Metatron wouldn't let them out of his sight.

'You understand we have to make the official announcement.'

Metatron snapped his fingers and in a moment that table was filled with hundreds of angels, among them Crowly could find Uriel, Michael and Saraquiel, they also managed to recognise Sandalphon, that face gave them a sickening sensation. They all wore impeccable clothes, they looked so immaculate that Crowley felt disgust, but he could also feel that same disgust in the eyes of the other angels, they looked at them in such a contemptuous way that for a moment he forgot he was in heaven, that scene could be any day in hell, the angels had nothing to envy to the demons when it came to being real idiots. Crowley decided to ignore those looks, instead, decided to fiddle a little with Aziraphale's appearance, seated up straight, hands clasped on the table and lifting the chin a little, smiling and taking a haughty attitude, having to admit that the angel probably wouldn't do that, but wanted to savour this moment, wanted to see the faces of those angels when Metatron would speak.

'Well, thank you all for meeting right away' Metatron began the meeting with a big smile.

Ew

'As you all know, in the recent months we have had a serious problem with our own administration, for various events that are out of control and the immaculate order of our organization, the archangel Gabriel has been removed from office and officially expelled from heaven.'

There was a sound of murmuring, but no one seemed to be really shocked.

'And as you must be guessing, the position of supreme archangel has a vacancy that we need to immediately fill, so it is my duty to inform you guys that...'

'I hate to interrupt, but it's obvious who should fill that job vacancy'.'

Michael interrupted so rudely that a silence swept through the room, everyone was looking at her so intently that anyone else would want to sink into the ground and disappear in disgrace, but not in Michael's case, she was an angel so in need of attention that this moment was her moment to glow.

'And I think there is no one better than me to take that role' Michael put his hands clasped together in a pose of authority in front of her until his little act was interrupted by another even more irritating angel.

'And who do you think you are to make that decision?' Sandalphon leapt out of his chair and quickly pointed at Michael, Crowley had the feeling that he wanted to pierce it with an invisible laser right in the middle of her eyes.

'Please, you were only second fiddle, I dared say I considered you more of a... assistant,' Miguel said, waving his remote dismissively.

Uh, this is going to turn hot, thought Crowley.

'Says the one who's been in Gabriel's shade his entire existence because he didn't get a bloody promotion!' Sandalphon burst out.

If it wasn't for the fact that they needed to act like an angel, Crowley would have already miraculously conjured up some popcorn and put their feet up on the table to enjoy the show.

'Please, this is ridiculous' Uriel said rolling her eyes.

Uriel didn't look like she was willing to fight for the seat, in fact, she seemed to be quite fed up about everything and everyone in that room.

'Please SHUT UP!'

Metatron let out a deep shout that made the skin of those present bristle, he was standing in front of everyone, still looking like he had come down to Earth, maybe he didn't look as impressive as being a huge head floating above some celestial lights, but his presence could be fearsome.

‘None of you have the slightest right to anything, not even a say in the matter, you know that this decision is made directly by order from above'

'Excuse me your excellency' Saraquiel said in the most respectful way possible 'So that means...'

'Indeed, the decision has been made' Metatron let all the angels take their seats again.

'But then, who...' Michael asked more to herself than to Metatron.

Immediately expectant eyes turned to Aziraphale, or in this case, Crowley, who had to grit his teeth to keep from letting out a satisfied chuckle as the shocked faces stared at them in genuine disbelief. Crowley squirmed a little in the chair and adjusted their waistcoats.

'That's right, Aziraphale was the chosen one to become the new supreme archangel.'

Metatron gave a look of approval and waved for Crowley to rise, Crowley did so, bow tie in such a vein and egocentric manner that he could see Michael about to blow smoke out of his ears.

"I know I've had differences with some of you," Crowley looked specifically at Michael and smiled at him, this caused the angel to almost turn blue, "others I haven't had the pleasure of spending much time with, and the vast majority well.... Fortunately, I don't know all of you, so hopefully I can start from scratch with all of you and have a minimally productive interaction".

'Well, we'll soon resume the plans we have on hold thanks to all that's happened with Gabriel, but with Aziraphale at the helm I know it will be very easy to move on, don't you think so dear boy?' Metatron put his hand on Crowley's shoulder, who had to count to ten to keep from slapping it away.

'I hope so sir' Crowley smiled uncomfortably.

'Ha ha ha ha, it shall be so' Metatron gave Crowley's hand a shake and then turned to the other angels.

'Well, that being said, the official ceremony of appointment will be tomorrow, we will inform you of everything related to the second coming once Aziraphale gets up to speed, in the meantime...'

Metatron took two steps behind and took his peculiar floating head form.

'Everyone returns to your activities'

He spoke his last words and disappeared behind a flash of light. Crowley had imagined everything in a more dramatic fashion, angels screaming, a huge hubbub telling them why they shouldn't even be angels anymore etc., but all he got was a hundred angels walking out of the room and looking at them with a mixed bag of emotions, which made Crowley wonder how much influence the higher ups had, apparently, asking more questions than was deemed necessary was still dangerous.

Crowley thought everyone would ignore it, so waited for them all to leave and went out last, but a hand caught them by surprise, grabbing at their shoulder.

'Well, I guess I'll have to collaborate with you for the time being.'

Uriel didn't seem angry or disappointed, it seemed like just another day's work, she appeared authoritative, yes, but she didn't seem to want to impose her presence, in fact, she seemed to be in a good disposition, which Crowley found somewhat weird.

"Yes, I'm sorry it's not a very pleasant choice for you," Crowley said, tempting a response from Uriel.

'As long as you do your job, it shouldn't bother me I suppose, which is why you should catch up with everything there is to do'

Crowley hadn't considered that, as Supreme Archangel, Aziraphale would have to sink into paperwork upon paperwork, and how their had taken place they would have to abide by the terrible tedium that awaited them, but hey, there's a lot of things you do for love. There were still a few hours to spare until they were officially appointed Supreme Archangel, so they would have a bit of time to think.

Meanwhile on earth stood an angel, contrary to their sharp and slightly scary appearance, feeling like their insides were made of jelly, could feel their legs trembling and their hands still returned to their mouth, touching the lips and pressing, as if Aziraphale wanted the sensation of that kiss to be forever impregnated into their skin.

The Bentley had parked on a street on the outskirts of the city, as soon as he stopped they got out of the car and leaned back against the awning, looking up, imagining every detail of that last scene with Crowley, still able to feel the effects of the poison, their mind wandering, realised that whoever drove their way to that place was the Bentley itself and was very glad that the car had picked up a decent speed so they wouldn't overwhelm him any further, tried to walk just to clear it, but every few metres the Bentley crept closer, like a cat toying with its owner, Aziraphale gave up and just stood there, silent.

'Really did it...'

Aziraphale took off the glasses and looked up at the sky.

'Damn it...' He lamented a little at his vocabulary, but was too tired to pray for God's forgiveness, could feel a few tears rolling down their cheeks, and their already venomously shaken breathing now seemed to cut off altogether.

'FUCK!'

Aziraphale slapped the Bentley's awning and at once apologised, not sure if the Bentley could feel pain, but felt the need to subtly rub the car, which made Aziraphale feel a little comforted.

'This shouldn't be happening...' They clenched their fists on top of the Bentley and dropped their head on the awning. Aziraphale was talking to the car as it tried not to lose equilibrium, the effects of the 'heavenly cyanide' were really strong, the Bentley opened one of its doors and Aziraphale took it as a sign to take a break, there had been no time to cry, there was no time for anything, they gave up on the seat and began to cry, it was a heart wrenching cry, his breathing heavy and eyes swollen, never had they felt such a sense of emptiness until that moment, just like the first time he tasted food, hadn't realised how hungry they were, just like when they kissed Crowley, hadn't realised how much they longed for that kiss, and now, without being beside them, they didn't know how lonely they felt.

Aziraphale cried for hours, until finally calming they heart a bit, it was not the right time to think straight, the effects of the cyanide were just beginning to wear off and her body felt heavy, her heart ached and her head throbbed, she settled back in the seats and closed the door of the Bentley, tried with all they might to keep their eyes on the roof of the car, but when her tears finally ceased, the angel had fallen asleep.

----------------------

Uriel led Crowley into a large room full of files, it was mountains and mountains of paperwork that could bury an entire town, which was already heavy on Crowley's mind.

'At the moment you won't be able to go through many files until you are appointed supreme Archangel officially, but I'm guessing some will be of your current status' Uriel pointed to files.

'Too bad, and I wanted to get started right away' Crowley had intended to use his trademark sarcasm, but mid-sentence they had to put on a hint of enthusiasm to keep up appearances, which went unnoticed by Uriel.

'Well, that's a start.'

Crowley picked up files, more curious than anything else, and dumped a few on a desk barely visible amongst so much paperwork.

"I'm surprised at how much stuff there is to go through, Gabriel only disappeared for a few days, and all this is backlogged?"

Uriel stood there, watching Crowley wander and answering questions about one file or another, and as they randomly snooped around Crowley opened a folder without looking at its title, the first few pages showed endless text, turning pages and pages without expecting anything until they came to an interesting section, it looked like a list of registered weapons for angels, some that were created and others that seemed to have remained prototypes, it was an interesting file. Soon found a well-organized table of names of weapon bearing angels and which ones they were assigned to.

"I wonder if..."

Crowley searched the table of names, and it didn't take long to find it.

"Aziraphale, Guardian of the Eastern Gate."

Crowley couldn't help but let out a sigh, since arriving there they hadn't had time to think about what they had left behind, and at that moment their mind plunged back into devastating thoughts, their angel had been left alone, unable to return to the bookshop without arousing suspicion, in a body that wasn't theirs, and with many newfound feelings, what about the poison, would it have worn off by now, would it be safe, would it be safe? All these thoughts flooded Crowley's head until Uriel's voice interrupted Crowley.

" Well, you sure did like that file."

Crowley quickly regained his composure and smiled.

"Ah, yes, I just remembered a thing or two..."

 'So, you still remember your sword, I remember we both had one when we had worked together as guardians in Eden.'

Had Aziraphale and Uriel worked together, Crowley momentarily froze, but it would be foolish to keep asking when Aziraphale was clearly supposed to remember.

"Oh, yes, I - I remember," Crowley tried not to feel that pang, Aziraphale never told them about Uriel in Eden.

'Even though we worked in the same place we didn't see much of each other did we' Uriel seemed genuinely nostalgic 'And after Adam and Eve left Eden I went back to heaven for a while, I thought I'd see you again when I gave Adam and Abel burial, but I guess you were already on other missions'.

Crowley was trying to process a lot of things, so he couldn't think of an immediate response, to which Uriel only made another comment.

'I still don't understand how you lost your sword, but well, that doesn't matter much now...'

"You're right" Crowley hastened to say "And look, I know you guys probably don't know what it's like to be sleepy, but you know, I'm still in human habits and I'd like to rest so I can be more energized tomorrow."

'I guess that's fine, though I don't know where you are planning to sleep, there's nothing resembling a room or a bed here...'

"Never mind, I'll manage, as long as we get out of here, this place is depressing."

Crowley handed the file to Uriel to put it back and hurried out leaving her behind, Uriel gave a confused look and prepared to leave the file on the desk, but before doing so she looked carefully at the seal protecting the file, it was a high ranking seal, it was likely that even she couldn't open it without prior authorisation, so how come Aziraphale still being a low ranking angel could open it? Uriel left the file and walked out of the room, he had many questions, but Aziraphale was nowhere to be found, a seed of doubt began to grow inside Uriel.

-----------------

Crowley walked so fast that they soon found themselves alone, in the deepest part of the sky offices, there was practically nothing, just a large empty space that stretched out infinitely, for a moment Crowley felt that overwhelming emptiness and heart shattering, there was definitely a part of the soul that was missing.

Crowley put they hands up, ready to make a new creation, but their hands hesitated, they had been a demon for a long time, they had not needed to create something in millennia, but they forced himself and snapped their fingers, suddenly, between glows and tinkles appeared there, a cozy room, Crowley could not decipher if it looked more like the bookstore of Aziraphale or their old flat, It was brutalist in style but with large shelves of books around it, accompanied by large planters with beautiful plants and a beautiful double bed in the centre, without thinking about it, Crowley had materialised their ideal place, which had their essence but also the essence of Aziraphale, sat on the bed and the overwhelming silence shocked Crowley to the core.

For a moment they hesitated about what they was doing, knew they was doing it to protect Aziraphale, and also to protect the Earth, but.... Was it worth it, leaving it all behind, leaving their angel behind, but what if he'd let it come, Aziraphale would be just another puppet, at least then they would be safe.

Crowley slipped inside Aziraphale's coat to feel a sense of warmth, after all it was Aziraphale's body, and at least felt Aziraphale's presence, but Crowley didn't want to touch Aziraphale's body, it felt strange, they felt like he was violating the privacy of their angel, so settled for the warmth of their clothes,

That's what Crowley was thinking until noticed something in one of their pockets, it wasn't until that moment that remembered hearing the sound of a miracle before they got on the elevator, pulled their hand out and a sigh immediately came out when they saw the photo that they had already forgotten about.

Looking at it with such longing, they took it in their hands and pressed it to chests as the tears they were trying to hold back spilled out. Crowley was doing all this for Aziraphale, but was broken inside, and it was until that moment that Crowley had a chance to feel their emotions, to process all that had happened in less than a day, the kiss, the confession and a painful goodbye, and so, with the photo in hand and a broken heart, a demon fell asleep.

Chapter Text

The day came, Aziraphale would be appointed the new supreme archangel and officially the plan for the second coming would take its course, this was worrying Crowley more than he wanted to admit.

"Come on, it shouldn't be that complicated, it's just remembering the old times..."

Crowley paced impatiently on the floor of his new room, thinking about how they would manage to sustain this lie without being found out, at the time it was the best idea that came to his head, but in practice, it had been a stupid plan.

I think I was a little hasty this time.

Crowley was so deep in thought that the sound of the door opening almost gave them a heart attack, metaphorically speaking of course.

'Wow, I didn't think my presence would make you so uncomfortable...' Uriel stood there, standing in the doorway, and analysing the new room.

"What, no, it's not that.... You just found me at a bad time that's all."

'Well, you can't stay here, everything is ready for the ceremony...'

"Sure! Yeah, thanks for the heads up."

Crowley turned around, ready to ramble on for a moment longer, but when they didn't hear the door close, they turned and looked at a serious, authoritative Uriel with signs of stress.

"Are you serious?" They said with annoyance.

'It's about time Aziraphale, we're waiting for you.'

Crowley took a moment to breathe, inhaled sharply and took a firm step towards the door, stepped out with Uriel right behind them, even they could swear they felt Uriel's eyes buried in the back of their necks.

"Uriel, is something wrong?"

Crowley said without stopping.

'Oh, it's nothing, just.... Don't mind'

Uriel's tone was unspeakable, but they let out a slight unconformity that was evident to Crowley, but they didn't have time to worry about something like that right now, they never dimensioned what an angel's promotion ceremony was, they had been created as a high ranking angel from the start, they hadn't required a promotion, what would they have to do, Would it make Crowley more holy? Wouldn't that destroy it? Crowley's doubts were killing them inside but there was no room for regrets, before they knew it, they had arrived at the room where the ceremony was to take place.

Metatron spoke over the crowd.

The room was huge, thousands of angels were in formation filling the entire space around a rotunda, in the centre were Michael, Sandalphon and Uriel who as soon as they arrived joined them in formation, Crowley hadn't noticed because it wasn't common to see angels very often, but the hints of gold that were already noticeable on the faces of the angels now looked incredibly bright, more brilliant than ever but they were overshadowed by the fury that formed on those divine faces.

Crowley was busy looking around until to notice Saraquiel, who was looking at them in a strangely familiar way, she wasn't smiling, but she felt a certain warmth, and next she saw a familiar face, Muriel was there, without the guard outfit and with a nice white uniform, they smile was brilliant and they saw Crowley excitedly, unable to break formation with the other angels but with a huge enthusiasm, Crowley believed that maybe there was another angel that represented the good of heaven besides Aziraphale.

Metatron on the other hand possessed his usual appearance, a big floating head right in the middle of the great hall, but for some reason he seemed to be much bigger this time, he motioned for Crowley to take they place in the centre of the great rotunda, everyone was watching him, Crowley felt the presences of the angels there and as soon as they set foot on the spot Metatron pointed out they felt a pain in their feet, they looked at the floor and noticed the glow of an engraving, like the one Aziraphale had in their bookshop, they felt their feet burning just like in that church in 1941, now they were on holy ground.

Aziraphale awoke in the light of morning, soft classical music was playing from the radio, and they heard people and cars passing by outside the Bentley, they head was throbbing, and they were confused, but for the moment the effects of the coffee had worn off.

'Where am I?'

And they got up from the seat and looked around through the car window, great was his surprise to see that he was parked outside the bookshop.

'You drove all the way here?'

Aziraphale said giving the seat a couple of gentle pats, the radio made a static sound, which Aziraphale took as a 'Yes'.

'I really appreciate it, at this time I really needed someone's support.'

The Bentley made a static sound again, Aziraphale couldn't believe that they were actually having a conversation with the car.

'Thank you for everything’.

Aziraphale carefully opened the door and got out of the car putting on his dark glasses, stood there for a moment and hesitated whether to go into the bookstore, it wouldn't be something Crowley would do would it, Aziraphale was so immersed in the world that Nina's voice startled something out of it.

'So, how did it go yesterday, you had me a bit worried when you drove off in your car.'

Aziraphale was barely processing Nina's words, which caused a terribly awkward silence.

 'Did you talk about your feelings as you should?' Nina cleared her throat to break the silence.

Aziraphale let out a long, half-hearted sigh, couldn't help but remember everything that happened in an instant, felt so guilty about it all that he felt like maybe they heart was about to stop, couldn't take their eyes off the bookshop, breathing accelerated and almost started to cry again. Nina at once grabbed their arm and helped to sit inside the car, Aziraphale didn't notice that the door had miraculously opened.

I'm sorry! I shouldn't have asked anything, please forgive me!'

Aziraphale held up a hand in a sign to give her some space, to which Nina backed away a little but not too far, she was worried about they say of health, seemed to be going through a very bad anxiety attack.

'Don't worry Nina I'll be fine, but please, I need to be alone...'

'How can I leave you like this?'

'Just go away!'

Aziraphale's voice that now sounded like Crowley's was tense, choked, but full of desperation, Nina fell silent, looked at for a moment and took a step back.

'As you wish.'

She turned around and walked into her coffee shop, Aziraphale took a moment to recover, stared at the door of the bookshop for a few minutes and finally took enough courage to step over the threshold.

Their chest was still heaving, and now the bookshop seemed so different, everything was in its place, nothing had changed, but the silence and emptiness of entering pressed on their heart, they walked a few steps forward, at the time they didn't notice that Crowley had arranged everything when the others left, arranged the furniture and even the broken window, had done all that for them. Sitting in the chair where they last saw Crowley before it all went wrong, and looked out of the window, their eyes lost in the passing passers-by and the rain that was beginning to cloud the landscape.

"What's going to happen now?

Aziraphale hadn't even taken time to think through everything that would consequently come, fooling a few angels and demons was one thing, they had done it before, but fooling the almighty, the consequences for both of them would be monumental, but there was safe, at least relatively, on Earth, its safe place which they had made their home, with the humans they loved so much, but Crowley?, was on enemy ground, alone and facing all of heaven single-handedly.

'Crowley...'

Aziraphale closed the eyes and threw back their head, they were physically and mentally exhausted until a strange sensation began to creep up through their feet.

'What the hell?'

They stood up and walked a little, the pain was stabbing and with each step it was clearer.

'Could it be because of the exchange of souls, No, it's impossible, we would have disintegrated into each other long ago...'

The pain became almost too much to bear until he began to see a bright light above their eyes, looked up at the ceiling and saw nothing where the glow could be coming from, the light seemed to be following the movements of their head.

'That's wrong...'

Aziraphale placed their firsthand their foreheads and an extreme warmth at once flooded them.

'No, no.... NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO'

Them pressed hard, their halo was materializing, which should be impossible, they had used it before on Shax, it would take a long time to regenerate it, however, she could feel the halo slowly forming around her head.

The glow was getting stronger and stronger, it even managed to make Aziraphale close their eyes from the discomfort of that glow, it took awkward steps through the bookstore until it reached his little portal, it wasn't open but he felt a surge of celestial energy that was making him dizzy, something had to be done or Crowley's body wouldn't hold out for long.

Crowley paralysed, Aziraphale's body didn't respond, their feet were literally boiling but they couldn't even move a step, had they found out, they felt trapped, it wasn't like last time, they weren't trying to throw Aziraphale into hellfire, but it seemed more like a trial than an Ascension ceremony, suddenly, Metatron's voice was heard like a tenebrous chant in Crowley's ears.

May the power of God do her will, may she release your old soul and rebirth you as a superior being....

Crowley closed those eyes, the pain became unbearable and the scream of agony they were trying to have come out in a guttural, gut-wrenching sound that deafened everyone present.

You will swear eternal allegiance, you will obey, and you will offer your body in thanksgiving to the goodness of our God....

Crowley let out another scream, paralysed and the inconvenient immortality only prolonged their agony, by this point all present watched the ceremony in horror, the expressions of pain were a scene that was not meant to be seen in a sacred place like heaven.

Aziraphale, guardian of the eastern gate, today you are proclaimed the new and only Supreme Archangel, and with this blessing you promise to give yourself completely to the service of heaven and God....

Uriel stared in horror at Aziraphale, who was actually Crowley, and a final scream of agony made her step forward, she watched as Aziraphale's body writhed in pain, tears and saliva dripped in an expression that would disturb anyone, it was a ceremony, an angel wasn't supposed to suffer at the God's handiwork, she was about to run in Aziraphale's direction until Michael stopped her.

'Stay out of this Uriel, or you'll interfere with God's plans.'

"But you see what they're doing to it!" she pointed in Crowley's direction "I was already finding it odd that Metatron was so happy with the decision to put a traitor as the new supreme archangel."

'What's it to you? The idiot's getting his promotion.'

"He's torturing them!" Even for Uriel, who had been present at Aziraphale's failed trial, this was too much.

'Don't look at it like that, see it as a way to make it pay so that them can take his place later as if nothing had happened.'

Uriel was in shock, she was beginning to notice that the institution on which she had based her existence for millennia had become corrupt, her never imagined how cruel heaven could be, but his thoughts were interrupted by the most heartbreaking scream she had ever heard in her life.

... for so our God has commanded, and she word shall be holy, for ever and ever....

Crowley felt like their soul was beginning to fade, a demon could not endure such an amount of celestial energy, but they had to hold on, for their angel, they could not give up, they were kneeling on the floor, hugging their own body as if to prevent their soul from leaving it, they opened their eyes and took one last look at those present, they could see the horrified expression of the majority of the angels, A few looks that seemed to enjoy their suffering and then there was him, that fucking giant head that couldn't look more arrogant and happy to see what he had caused, their rage towards Metatron grew like hellfire and threw them the most inquisitive look they could form, to which Metatron only responded with a mocking laughter.

Amen

Suddenly everything seemed to disappear, not only the pain, they no longer felt their body, hardly could say that they kept their soul, it was a feeling of intermittent emptiness, their mind floated free and felt as light as it had not felt in millennia, tried to concentrate, gradually managed to see the space materializing around them, what was once darkness gradually managed to become a dense cloud of colours and bright spots around them.

More than 6000 years of living in darkness, which was the only thing captured by their eyes, now became a beautiful sight, thousands and thousands of stars floated around them, galaxies, planets, nebulae, everything they were created to create, for a moment there was nothing more than itself and the universe, Crowley felt free, happy, until a very familiar voice resounded in their head.

‘Well played my dear, you did everything you could, and I thank you with all my heart.... ´

Crowley began to feel that emptiness again, a feeling of anguish was rapidly invading their mind.

´I can never repay you for everything you did for me, but I thought at least for a moment I could give you back everything you ever fought for, take it as a gift....’

Crowley was searching with his eyes where that voice came from, desperation took over him, but deep down he knew that his eyes would not find anything, he stopped for a moment and concentrated all his spirit on that voice.

‘Thank you, for everything, but now it's my turn to take the reins.’

That was one of the most painful farewells she had ever had, and she had had enough.

‘Goodbye Crowley’

Crowley opened their eyes, the smell of tea and old books invaded them, lying on the floor, it took a moment to become aware of his surroundings, stood up and looked around in horror, closed their eyes tightly to try to convince themselves that it was just another hallucination, but when they opened they were met with a scourging truth, had returned to their body.

Metatron spoke with superiority and a firm voice.

'Supreme Archangel Aziraphale, are you okay?'

Suddenly the body that lay there, defeated and having undergone the greatest suffering known to man, stood upright, proud, now adorned by an exceptionally neat beard, an all in white, elegant suit, with its arms behind its back in a position of superiority and a gaze so intense that it impressed even Metatron themself, spoke in a deep, elegant voice with enough firmness to make everyone present bristle.

‘Supreme Archangel Aziraphale sir, reporting to the service of God'.

Chapter Text

Aziraphale's presence was something no one expected, it was powerful, imposing and fearsome, but at the same time it was warm and glowing, with certain glimmers of familiarity.

Metatron and everyone present were silent for a few seconds that seemed like hours, until Uriel stepped forward, firmly, with superiority, but with deep respect for Aziraphale.

'We are at your service, Supreme Archangel Aziraphale.'

And with that a miraculous chorus of angels rang out in unison, shaking the room.

‘AT YOUR SERVICE, SUPREME ARCHANGEL AZIRAPHALE!’

Metatron watched in stony silence but gave Aziraphale a wry smile.

'Well, what do you know? Looks like the position suited you just fine boy.'

Aziraphale could sense a hint of mockery and dissatisfaction in Metatron, as if that was not what they expected from a Principate who had miraculously risen through the ranks.

'This post needed someone with your.... "qualities". It's obvious that you'll feel much better here at home than on Earth with that wretched demon'.

Metatron knew just the words to taunt Aziraphale, but it wasn't going to be easy, he didn't expect the angel to smile back.

‘Well, I hope so, I see the higher-ups weren't so 'competent' in dealing with Heaven that they had to resort to .... What did they call me? oh right, a traitor and a banished angel, looks like it's time to get serious, eh?’

Two could play this game, and Aziraphale wasn't about to bow they head, not again, had been a downtrodden and undervalued angel all they life, but not anymore, Aziraphale was The Supreme Archangel now, and they knew in advance that Heaven must be planning something to drug them and bring back.

Metatron was stunned, and the room full of angels watched the scene in horror, thinking that the Second Coming was nowhere near as terrifying as seeing the new Archangel defy the voice of God himself.

Metatron let out a bitter laugh after a moment, seemingly relaxed, as if Aziraphale's words hadn't affected in the slightest, but the new archangel couldn't help but notice that the talking head was getting bigger.

‘Well, Aziraphale, use this as a chance to redeem yourself and prove that you are more than a dirty traitor’

Metatron's presence disappeared, leaving Aziraphale unresponsive, and before knowing it, the gaze of thousands of angels was upon them, their mouths and eyes so wide that Aziraphale thought they might pop out of their sockets.

'So, what are you going to do now? "Archangel course," Michael said, but of course she had to be the first to mess it up.

Aziraphale began to notice that all the angels seemed to have a knack for emphasising the right words to make them furious.

'Please tell us, Your Excellency, what are your great attributes?

Sandalphon's smile was disgustingly mocking and Aziraphale had to stop themselves from spitting out an obscenity.

‘I don't think I need to tell you why I was chosen to be here, Sandalphon’

Aziraphale said in a firm, deep voice.

'Don't you think we are worthy of knowing? Wow, Aziraphale, you've only just become an Archangel and you're already taking on powers that belong only to our Lord,' Michael began to take the lead in Aziraphale's blacklist.

A couple of voices began to whisper behind Aziraphale, then a few more to the sides and little by little the whispers that filled the room were turning into laughter, claims and almost shouts towards him, he looked at all the angels around them, already saw Saraquiel who was silently observing the scene, and then observed Muriel, remembered that Metatron had practically imposed upon Muriel to stay in the bookstore, but of course, it was an important ceremony so he had to be present like all the other angels, Aziraphale couldn't help but wonder, if the ascension ceremony was for another angel and they weren't a traitor, would they have called them to the ceremony?. Muriel's face was nervous and afraid, the gentleness of that angel had entered Aziraphale's heart after their awkward interaction, maybe all was not lost in heaven.

Aziraphale tried to pay attention to the hubbub they heard, identified murmurs about how they had responded to Metatron (some with fear, some with intrigue and some more with indignation), some complaints about not explaining why they had returned, some insults and other things that were mostly against their person. In addition to the obvious dissatisfaction of some angels, the comments of Michael and Sandalphon did not help in the least.

'If I say-'

'Well, now they're going to talk!' In fact, Aziraphale already hated Michael.

'Actually, I'd like-'

'We're going to be spoken to by the princess how cute-' Sandalphon wouldn't finish the sentence.

'SHUT UP, EVERYONE!'

Suddenly Aziraphale felt their voice louder and deeper than it normally was, it was accompanied by an echo, as if a terrified chorus of angels were contracting in Aziraphale's throat, their patience had run out and thousands of years of oppression came crashing down on them, causing them to explode. It spread its wings, but realised that it was no longer just one pair, it had three other pairs of wings, majestically large and shining. Everyone presents at once fell silent at the imposing image of Aziraphale.

‘Listen to this carefully, I am the new Supreme Archangel, I was chosen by God to take the place of Gabriel'.

There was a shared gasp as the gazes focussed on the towering angel.

‘But more importantly, MY NAME IS AZIRAPHALE, FORMER GUARDIAN OF THE EASTERN GATE, THE ANGEL WHO HAS BEEN ON EARTH FOR THE MOST YEARS, WHO KNOWS HUMANITY BETTER THAN ANYONE, WHO COULD REVEL THE HEAVEN AND WHO HAS SEEN THE STARS BORN'.

At that moment something came to Aziraphale's mind, a beautiful red-haired angel who smiled at the sight of thousands of stars around them, but who was abandoned by heaven simply because they had...questions.

Aziraphale had been so overwhelmed that lost their minds, the angels around them considered a traitor, obviously they would have questions to ask as to how this traitor had suddenly become the new Supreme Archangel, Aziraphale still questioned this even now, of course they could avoid the questions by making the angels so afraid of them that the shadow of curiosity or doubt would never cross their minds again, but they hadn't come to heaven to follow in Gabriel's footsteps, it wouldn't happen again, not while still in charge, they wanted to reform heaven, they wanted to make it truly how the human writings described it and even better, but they weren't off to a good start.

Aziraphale relaxed, made those wings disappear and took the most serene position possible, lifted their face and their gaze became luminous and warm. If Crowley could see them, it would only let them know that if they didn't know that they were an angel they would easily believe that they were the real Santa Claus.

'My dear ones' Finally spoke in a way that was meant to be reassuring but firm 'I am not closed to curiosity, I am more than willing to answer your questions and help you understand all that pertains to humanity, that is why I am here.'

Aziraphale paused, hoping that they would have the necessary attention, and continued satisfactorily after seeing the happy and intrigued look on Muriel's face among many other angels.

‘I don't want to compare them, but their behaviour is undignified, I've seen humans and demons with better manners. They must have standards’

Well, Aziraphale knew they was adding fuel to the fire, but there were two angels in particular who wanted to provoke, and they did.

‘HOW DARE YOU COMPARE US TO THAT FILTH!’

It wasn't a question, it was a very annoying statement from Michael.

'It is OBVIOUS that an angel who has been out of Heaven for so long would think that human 'standards' are worthy of Heaven,' Sandalphon grinned.

Aziraphale understood, so continued.

‘Now Michael, tell me something, you are an archangel, aren't you?’

Michael laughed at the question.

'Obviously.

‘That means the others owe you a certain respect, doesn't it?’

'Of course, I am the Archangel Michael, I am a superior angel.

‘Well, but now I am superior to you, Michael, so by your own logic you owe me respect’

That is not the same thing!

'Ah, well then you say they owe you respect, but not Sandalphon?

'What on earth has that got to do with it?

'Well, you say that the respect they have for you is not the same as the respect they owe me, so I guess they respect you more than they respect Sandalphon, for example.

'Well, obviously they'll respect me more.

'WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT?!' Sandalphon shouted.

Aziraphale had lived on Earth for over 6000 years, living every day with the cruelty that humanity could be, but also with a sweet demon who had taught him that anyone could fall into temptation if they found the perfect path, and Aziraphale had learned from the best.

The rivalry between the two had clearly been of interest to they the whole time they'd been in service, and she wasn't going to waste it. Sandalphon and Michael began to exchange words, raising their voices and looking very un-Celestial, which would obviously cost the other angels considerable points.

For a moment, Aziraphale let them argue in silence, and couldn't help but notice Uriel's amused look at the situation. After a few minutes, Aziraphale politely separated the two angels, noting at once that things were about to change.

'Michael, I think it's clear that your logic is not very well executed. You ask for respect, but you don't give it, that's not very angelic of you'

Michael started to speak, but Sandalphon’s irritated voice saying 'waste of an angel' almost made them draw their own flaming sword. Aziraphale anticipated the situation and at once intervened.

'Now, following the logic of both of you, you have said that it is not because I am of a higher rank than you that I deserve your respect, right?'

'Because you're not someone worthy of it,' Michael spat.

'Well, you've made it clear that you're not either, so that would mean that any angel present could treat you the same as you treat me.

There was silence again, almost at once replaced by murmurs, but now directed at Sandalphon and Michael, who tried to raise their voices.

'THIS IS STUPID, YOU'RE BRAINWASHING THEM,' Michael shouted.

'BUT YOU'RE RIGHT!' shouted an angel in the crowd, 'YOU HAVE DONE NOTHING TO RESPECT US!

'YES! WHY SHOULDN'T WE TREAT YOU EQUALLY?' continued another angel.

'BECAUSE I'M THE BLOODY ARCHANGEL MICHAEL!

The complaints began to mount and Michael's control over the other angels was slipping, but Sandalphon was not having such a good time.

'WE NEVER RESPECTED YOU, WE WERE AFRAID OF YOU!'

'OF COURSE YOU SHOULD BE AFRAID OF ME! I CAN PUNISH YOU AS I PLEASE!'

The shout was louder than they had imagined. Aziraphale raised a hand for silence, which was at once granted, folded the hands behind them, and approached Sandalphon sternly.

'What did you just say?' Aziraphale's eyes were curious.

'W-well, that if the angels d-don't respect me, they must know that I can...'

'Punish them?' Aziraphale's gaze was angry.

Sandalphon suddenly felt small and threatened, the smile had turned into a line as lips were pressed tightly together, completely regretting that they had spoken too much. Aziraphale was furious, and soon began to run a hand through their new immaculate beard, trying to control themselves.

'Look Sandalphon, I've been threatened and punished by Heaven many times, you were even there for most of them, weren't you?'

Sandalphon didn't answer.

'Even Michael threatened to wipe me out, remember?'

Aziraphale turned for a moment to look at Michael, who looked annoyed, but there was a hint of fear in those eyes, 'but I know that none of them have the power or authority to do so’.

Aziraphale smiled, but it wasn't a bright, warm smile, it was curious and determined.

‘But all the rebukes I have received have been for disobeying the direct word of God, for not following the divine plan and for betraying heaven'.

Aziraphale felt they inner anger turn to deep sadness, but this feeling only gave their clarity about all that she had to reform in heaven.

‘So, just to be clear, you're telling me you took it upon yourself to punish them just because they disrespected you?’

Sandalphon at once realised what Aziraphale was judging, and the thought of where this was all leading made them recoil.

'And may I quote Michael just now' remembering the taunts of only a few minutes ago - "you are taking attributions that belong only to our lord."

And may I quote Michael now," they remembered the taunts of a few minutes ago, "you take credit that belongs only to our Lord.

Aziraphale knew what they were trying to accuse them of, but it was more subtle, and now, without that sense of inferiority, they knew that the higher angels had plenty of tails to kick.

'And if you've taken the liberty of discerning who deserves to be punished, who can assure me that you've never punished anyone on the false accusation that it was in the name of God?'

And there it was, Sandalphon was almost on the floor, that was the worst accusation you could make to an angel, and Aziraphale knew it.

Aziraphale spoke, but once again their voices were like a terrible and intense chorus, as if they were the prophets of an apocalypse.

Blasphemy Sandalphon, the unforgivable sin.

A drawing I made, see more good omens fanarts on my account @luxxuvixz_rosseart on instagram :3

Chapter Text

Sandalphon was stunned. Silence had already become a constant companion for Aziraphale and, although their intention was to redeem heaven and restructure it from within, they were well aware that they first had to earn everyone's respect up here. Only then would they have the authority to carry out their plan.

'You-you can't...'

Sandalphon's voice was shaky and almost inaudible, but Aziraphale was so close they could hear Sandalphon's heartbeat, if he had one.

'Can't what, Sandalphon?'

Aziraphale leaned in even closer.

'You can't make such an accusation...'

'Oh, I very much can, dear.' Aziraphale wouldn't normally call someone like Sandalphon "dear," but it was an old habit from their human vocabulary. 'I remember that many of your punishments were imposed by pointing directly with your finger.'

'THAT'S NOT TRUE! I WAS ONLY DOING...'

Sandalphon managed to stop himself there. All the angels around him were looking at him with horror and pity. Coming from a human, those looks would be painful to see, but coming from ethereal beings, it was as if your soul touched the deepest part of a well.

'Did everything on your own, didn’t you?' Aziraphale placed a hand on Sandalphon's shoulder, leaned in, and put their mouth close to his ear. 'Please, don't dig yourself deeper, Sandalphon. If this lie continues, if you keep saying that what you did was in God's name or that you were just following orders, you will be condemned. You and I both know the truth.'

Aziraphale's voice was warm. Yes, they wanted to teach Sandalphon a lesson, but they also didn't want their first action as the new Supreme Archangel to be condemning another angel. They wanted to give him a minimally dignified way out.

'I-I...'

'SPEAK, SANDALPHON! CONFESS WHAT WE ALL KNOW!'

Michael was genuinely euphoric. She had remained silent, hoping that Aziraphale wouldn't take the same measures against her as they had with Sandalphon. Michael knew very well what it meant to be accused of blasphemy, but her mind was twisted. She was an archangel too. She realised that her only chance of rising in rank had vanished with Aziraphale's arrival, and now she was at risk of losing her current rank. Aziraphale must have found all the dirt on Sandalphon, that angel was sinking, and Michael knew he wouldn't go down alone. He would do his best to drag her down with him, and she couldn't allow that.

'Michael, I will handle this.'

'NO!'

The lower-ranking angels were on the verge of disintegrating from the level of stress and anxiety this new hierarchy was causing them in such a short time.

'Michael, this is not your place.'

'BUT YOU’RE RIGHT, AZIRAPHALE! SANDALPHON HAS DONE SOMETHING TERRIBLE!'

Michael had agreed with Aziraphale. This wasn't right.

'Michael, be silent. This is not your problem.'

'OF COURSE IT IS! I'm the Archangel Michael.'

'Michael, please, be silent.' Aziraphale urged Michael not to dig herself deeper, but it was no use.

'I am Prince of the Heavenly Host, Prime Minister of God, and Commander-in-Chief of the celestial forces. It's my duty to punish those-

'Michael, I say this for the last time...' Aziraphale paused. 'Shut up.' And Michael miraculously closed her mouth. 'I'm no longer willing to tolerate your arrogance.'
Aziraphale was already too busy to deal (as always) with Michael’s enormous ego. What was the point of giving her full bloody title? Aziraphale knew who Michael was and the rank she held, which was no joke either. They had to give her credit for the victory against Lucifer in the first great war, but all that merit and those titles hadn’t stopped her from being under Gabriel's command for so many years, nor was she even considered to take his place. They had to admit they felt a bit of pity.

'Right, now,' Aziraphale turned back to a sweaty bald angel with a gold tooth. 'Sandalphon, I’ve experienced firsthand what one of your punishments entails.' They began to walk around Sandalphon. 'And I think I could find at least a hundred witnesses, though they wouldn’t be necessary. My word is enough to establish order from now on...'

'Do you really think that will be enough?' Michael, again, was more irritating than Aziraphale remembered. 'Look at you, you couldn’t earn anyone's respect - mm... MMPH!'

And suddenly, Michael’s mouth was sealed shut, her lips completely stuck together as if they had fused into one.

'I told you to be quiet, Michael.' Aziraphale had their arm extended with a fist directed at Michael, maintaining the miracle that sealed the archangel's mouth.

Everyone stared in astonishment at the situation. Now all the angels were definitely scared.

Damn it, thought Aziraphale.

This wasn’t how they wanted to earn the angels' respect, not like this. They were instilling fear just like Sandalphon and Michael. It seemed the new position was bringing out Aziraphale's true character. They released the seal, and Michael started coughing. She wanted to say something, but for the first time, had the prudence to stay silent.

'I’m very sorry I had to resort to that,' Aziraphale made a small bow of the head. They didn’t bow any further; they wanted Michael to understand that they respected her as the angel she was but would no longer be at her feet.

'As for you, Sandalphon,' the mentioned angel jumped. It seemed he was trying to stay still, small, maybe hoping Aziraphale would forget he was there.

'Y-yes, sir.'

'First, don’t call me sir.'

Sandalphon’s eyes widened in surprise.

'Y-your excellency?'

'Good Lord, no!'

'T-then...'

'Aziraphale, just call me Aziraphale.' Sandalphon looked confused but took Aziraphale’s statement the wrong way. He smiled with a bit of arrogance, imagining in his little fantasy that he could still impose on Aziraphale, but that feeling would be crushed in a second.

'After all, the title is very long. When I give you orders to relay to others, I don’t want you wasting time with so many words, do you? After all, everyone here already knows I’m the Supreme Archangel.' And there went that fantasy, straight into the celestial rubbish bin.

Aziraphale could hear a few laughs in the background. Good, they had to start somewhere, and it seemed entertaining a few angels might work.

'You’ll have a trial, Sandalphon, but unlike mine, you’ll have the chance to defend yourself. You’ll be able to speak, and of course...' Aziraphale glanced at Uriel, who had also been at their "trial." 'I don’t plan on putting you in a circle filled with hellfire, so don’t worry.'

The younger angels (many of them probably just under a thousand years old or so, but Aziraphale still saw them as young) looked surprised at that statement.

'However, you will pay for committing so many injustices in the name of God, but that punishment will be decided after the trial.'

Sandalphon looked so angry, but Aziraphale knew he wouldn’t do anything. He would have to be content with not being expelled from heaven.

'Is that clear?'

'Yes... Aziraphale.'
"Great," Aziraphale turned to the other angels. "Now, I'll have to engage with you all and learn everything that's going on up here, so stay tuned. I'll be gathering you soon to talk about all the changes."

Some angels were taking notes.

"And also, we'll need a jury. In some parts of Earth, they do it with 23 people, but up here, I want to give you the chance to try it."

"Ex-excuse me..." A trembling voice from the crowd raised a hand.

"Yes, tell me."

"What will the jury be for?" It was a youthful-looking angel, with worryingly pale skin that contrasted with dark hair and unsettling brown eyes.

"For Sandalphon's trial. The jury will be responsible for listening to the testimony and the trial along with the accusations and the evidence. With that, we can decide a fair punishment for Sandalphon." The other angels looked at each other. "However, the jury must be neutral, so I will ask the angels who have not had any dealings with Sandalphon to come to me in three days. I will explain your role again and how we will conduct the trial."

"And what about us, those who were mistreated by them?" Spoke a blond angel from the other side of the room.

"You are the victims. You will also need to attend the trial, but I need to know what charges Sandalphon will face, so I'll see you in two days. Everyone who has had the misfortune of receiving a punishment from Sandalphon will be heard."

"And how do we know this isn't a trap?" Michael had been silent long enough; it was too good to be true.

"What do you mean?" Aziraphale knew exactly what Michael was implying, wanting them to expose themselves.

"How do we know this isn't a trap to find out which angels will stand against their superiors and then get rid of them?"

"It's true, you don't know." Michael didn't expect that answer. "But I was there; I know what it feels like to be trampled on and not be able to do anything. Now I want to give you the opportunity that I never had."

That we never had.

Now Aziraphale was thinking of a red-haired angel who also didn't get a chance.

There were murmurs in the room, but no more complaints. That was enough for now.

"So, for the moment, that's all. I hope to see you soon."

And with that, the angels slowly dispersed.

"Sandalphon, you will be relieved of your duties until a decision is made at the trial. Michael, you'll take over their tasks."

"Are you mad? Why me?"

"Oh, I'm sorry dear, don't you think you're capable of doing them? I really apologise; I thought you were up to it, but I see I was mistaken."

"No- that's not what I-"

"Don't worry, I'll ask someone more capable to-"

"FINE!" Michael's ego finally gave in.

Uriel seemed to be enjoying the scene.

"Aziraphale, if I may, we need to start with the paperwork. The second coming plan is breathing down our necks," said Uriel, approaching with a slight smile. Aziraphale couldn't remember ever seeing her smile.

"I agree, please lead the way."

Uriel's smile disappeared. She stood still for a moment but then began to walk.

"Sure, follow me."

----------------------------------------

Crowley slowly opened their eyes, feeling their body heavy and their head spinning. They were in the bookshop, to be precise, on the floor of the bookshop.

"Aziraphale..."

They got up carefully, their soul seemed broken, they were incredibly weak. In fact, they didn't even know how they were still alive. They were back in their body again.

"No, no, NONONONONONO."

What happened? Where was Aziraphale? Crowley couldn't think clearly, everything hurt, both in their physical form and their ethereal form. Their feet were burning. They sat on the nearest sofa and breathed.

"What the hell happened?"

Obviously, their plan to replace Aziraphale hadn't lasted 24 hours. What did they expect from a plan made in 5 minutes while trying to help Aziraphale regain consciousness? It had been a very bad idea. They could have died and destroyed Aziraphale if they hadn't regained their body. Wait, did they regain it? Crowley couldn't feel the angel's presence. They didn't know if Aziraphale managed to get their body back or if they were okay. Hell, they didn't even know if they were alive. 

Shit Crowley, your plan just made things worse, you're a real genius

I had to figure out what happened to Aziraphale. I couldn't go to heaven again, I couldn't even summon the elevator, I was trapped on Earth. Besides, if I found a way to go up, there was no guarantee that Aziraphale would be in heaven.

"What did you do, Aziraphale?"

Crowley remembered the last thing they saw before "blacking out." It was the stars, their creation. They had heard Aziraphale, but hadn't seen them. Could they be out there, lost in the universe? No, Crowley would be able to feel them, right?

Crowley closed their eyes and gathered their energy. Their essence was still compromised, but they didn't care. They channelled their energy and travelled through the universe. It was a state of consciousness they hadn't used in a long time. They felt overwhelmed. It took time to adjust, but after a few minutes, they were freely travelling through the vast creation. They were there for hours and found nothing. Crowley didn't know whether to feel relieved or more worried.

"Well, one less place to search."

They opened their eyes slowly and relaxed as much as they could. They were alone... alone?

"What the hell?"

Crowley clearly remembered Metatron leaving that clueless angel here, in the bookshop. Where were they? They searched the entire ground floor—nothing. They went up to the first floor—nothing. Could something have happened to them? No, heaven had no reason to harm them, right? Crowley could pass out again at any moment. They had never felt so overwhelmed. They walked in circles and entered Aziraphale's room. They knew the angel didn't sleep, yet there were two well-equipped bedrooms on the upper floor. They imagined Aziraphale sitting on their bed, reading a book with those silly glasses they didn't need (Crowley thought they looked good on them, but would never say it) and a cup of tea or cocoa. They lay down for a moment. They couldn't get that angel out of their head. They hadn't been able to do it for 6,000 years and never would. They pressed their lips with their hand. The sensation of Aziraphale's mouth against theirs would also occupy their thoughts forever.

They were tired, closed their eyes, and almost fell asleep until they heard the bookshop door open.

And to think I mocked you when you put that silly little bell, angel.

They ran down the stairs. Was it them? Could it be Aziraphale? Their hope was shattered when they saw a peculiar angel with black hair and a bright smile enter. It was Muriel. They were no longer dressed like a police officer, but in a cute beige uniform with a skirt. They seemed not to have seen Crowley yet.

"Where were you?" Straight to the point. They were tired of not saying what they really thought for centuries.

'WOW! Sir, you scared me!' Muriel had jumped in a way that would be very funny at another time, but they couldn't waste time.

"I asked where you were," Crowley's voice was deep and authoritative.

'Eh, umm,' Muriel seemed not to trust Crowley yet.

"Relax, you're not in trouble," said Crowley, trying to soften their voice. "I just want to know if you've seen Aziraphale."

'Oh, yes! I just got back from the ascension ceremony,' Muriel seemed excited.

"Are they in heaven?" Again, that mix of relief and worry.

'Yes, didn't you know?' Muriel's confused look again.

"Umm, yes, I knew. I didn't know if they were still there," said Crowley, trying not to look worried. "So, the ascension ceremony went well, huh?" Please, let everything be fine.

'Yes! Aziraphale is amazing, they put a lot of angels in their place,' Muriel was jumping with excitement.

"Oh, really? What exactly did they do?" Well, it seems they are safe.

Muriel recounted in detail everything that had happened: how they faced Metatron, how they made Michael swallow her pride, and the whole business with Sandalphon.

"Do they really have a beard?" Crowley imagined Aziraphale looking like Santa Claus.

'Yes, it's quite impressive.' Crowley could imagine it. An angry Aziraphale could be scarier than Lucifer himself. After all, they were a bastard. 'But there's something, I don't know what it is, it makes you feel calm, at peace, it makes you feel...'

"Happy."

'Exactly! At first, we doubted them a lot, but they make you want to trust them.'

"I know, it's strange, isn't it?" Crowley already knew what that meant. Yes, they had saved Aziraphale from several situations in the past, and although neither of them would admit it, Aziraphale had always been completely safe. However, Crowley knew they had saved their life. Maybe without the angel, Crowley would have drowned a long, long time ago.

'Mister Aziraphale is impressive.'

"Yes, they are."

'I would like to deal with them a bit more, but I'll only be able to see them occasionally, maybe only on Judgment Day.'

"Wait, you'll be at the judgment?"

'Yes, Sandalphon never approached me. I doubt they even know me, so I'll probably be part of the jury.'

This was perfect. They had a chance to communicate a message.

"Officer, I need your help."

Chapter Text

“Aziraphale, they're here,” announced Uriel.

“Thank you, please let them in.”

The Supreme Archangel's office was quite austere in Aziraphale's opinion. Unlike the archive cellar, the large office was completely empty except for a glass desk and a chair. Visiting the cellar had been a rather uncomfortable situation for Aziraphale.

.

.

“I was expecting to see the overdue files, I imagine there's quite a bit of work.”

“Go to the cellar, with your new position you'll be able to access all of them.”

“Oh sure, thanks. Could you lead me there? I'm still not quite used to it.”

Uriel raised an eyebrow and stared at Aziraphale.

“You have a terrible memory, Aziraphale.”

“Excuse me?”

“I showed you the cellar yesterday; you asked me to take you where the files were.”

Oh, heavens.

Aziraphale had completely forgotten that Crowley had been here before them. Uriel's look was intriguing, they knew she already suspected something, but of course they weren't going to say it.

“I’m sorry, after the ceremony I have trouble remembering some things,” said Aziraphale in an innocent tone. Uriel wasn't buying it.

“Well, you seemed to have a good memory for remembering everything that Michael and Sandalphon had done to you.”

“Um…” Perfect, Uriel wasn’t so dumb. “I don’t know what else to say, I suppose long-term memory is harder to forget…” They walked around their desk. “Alright Uriel, if you really don’t want to do your job, I’ll tell someone else—”

“My job isn’t to be your bloody guide all over heaven, Aziraphale.”

That was the Uriel they knew. Her kind tone had been quite strange for Aziraphale. She had been refraining from getting involved in the whole ceremony thing, but Uriel knew she had also been present for most (if not all) of the times Aziraphale had been punished or harassed by heaven.

“I’m sorry, Uriel, I just asked for a favour.” They weren’t going to falter.

Uriel remained firm for a few more moments, then let out a resigned sigh. “Fine, I’ll take you once more, but this is the last time.” She turned and began to walk.

Aziraphale followed closely, soon arriving at the cellar which was filled with files and the small desk buried under all of them.

“I’ll ask the scribes to prioritise them; there's no point in signing notices from 100 years ago,” said Uriel indifferently.

“Are they that overdue?”

“Well, it wasn’t anyone’s priority to stop some… Doroteo? Pancho? Whatever that human was called, it was a civil war in such an insignificant country.”

“Tell me it’s not Pancho Villa,” said Aziraphale, rummaging through some papers.

“I think it is.” Uriel pointed to a photo of a man with a peculiar moustache, chubby and riding a horse, and handed the file to Aziraphale, who almost snatched it.

Aziraphale had heard of several historical figures during their time on Earth. Not all of them were as humanity remembered them; in fact, most of them tended to be quite despicable. In this case, repugnant and atrocious were understatements.

“Was heaven going to interfere?” Aziraphale read the document carefully.

“It was supposed to, but we never paid attention to those cases. They didn’t affect or benefit the grand plan, so Gabriel just let them slide.”

Aziraphale almost fainted. How could heaven overlook such vile acts by that human? Aziraphale knew who Pancho Villa was, knew what he had done later, and regretted not intervening. Their missions on the other side of the world were rare, but they trusted that there were other angels managing that area. Now they realised there simply were no other angels; the world was ignored by heaven.

“They could have sent me,” whispered the new archangel.

“What did you say?”

“I COULD HAVE DONE SOMETHING! Do you know all the misery this man caused? I think even demons wouldn’t do work so filled with rage like this supposed national hero’s.”

“Aziraphale, your missions were on the other side of the world, and to be honest, it was the only side that interested us at the time. You know, the first humans, the birth of Jesus, the holy wars…”

This was worse than they had imagined.

“Aren’t the most devout countries supposed to be in this part of the world?” Aziraphale pointed to the American continent.

“Devout in what sense? If you mean Catholic and Christian religions, yes, the top two places are there. But on the other side, there are other religions that are also quite devout.” Uriel seemed bored with the topic. “In the end, everyone seeks to get closer to God in one way or another.”

“I suppose you’re right.” It was true, there were hundreds of religions and different beliefs, but in the end, everyone sought something to have faith in. “But Uriel, look at these graphs. Many of these countries, the most devout ones, are precisely the ones that need the most help.”

“Well, I don’t really think so. As you said, they are the most faithful followers of faith, regardless of the religion they profess. So, when the day comes, they will be the most rewarded. What’s the point of wasting miracles now?”

“But they can’t wait their whole lives, Uriel. Many of them die in the worst situations, and they never get to see the fruits of our Lord’s grace.”

“Please, Aziraphale. Many of them make it here, to heaven.”

“And what about those who have to follow the wrong path? Those who sin because they had no other choice, who could only survive by taking wrong actions.” A flashback of a young girl stealing bodies in a Scottish cemetery came to Aziraphale’s mind. “It’s not fair. Not everyone has the opportunity to follow a path of good deeds.”

Uriel remained silent, observing Aziraphale once more. Their furrowed brows and impeccable beard adorned their face. She watched them close the files and sigh.

“As soon as the scribes have the files, send them to my office, please.”

“Right away.”

Aziraphale left the cellar and returned to their desk. They had been so ignorant, imagining that all their good deeds made some difference in the world, a grain of sand that could make a difference. Now they realised that even in heaven, only a few privileged ones benefited.

.

.

.

“Well, thank you all for coming. I’m glad to see you again, though I expected more of you.”

There were about 50 angels, of whom 37 were scribes. Aziraphale recognised Muriel among them.

“If you’re here, I can assume none of you have received any ill-treatment from the angel Sandalphon, right?”

“Actually…” spoke an angel a bit timidly, “we’ve never really dealt with him, sir.”

“Excuse me?”

“Most of us are scribes; we don’t usually see other angels very often.”

Aziraphale contemplated them for a moment.

“In fact, most only seek us when they need us to find something for them.”

Aziraphale did know this peculiar angel.

“Hello, Muriel. It’s nice to see you again,” said Aziraphale, offering a kind smile.

“Likewise, Your Excellency,” replied Muriel, bouncing a little.

And here we go again.

“Please, don’t call me that. Just call me Aziraphale.”

The angels present didn’t respond. Some just nodded, and the scribes limited themselves to taking notes. Old habits, Aziraphale thought.

“Well, from what I’ve observed, there are many administrative areas in heaven that aren’t very well attended to. That will change, but for now, we’ll have to focus on the most urgent…”

Aziraphale was about to continue with the instructions for the angels, but a strong gust of wind and a sudden bright light interrupted them.

“Aziraphale, can you explain to me… what are you doing?” The voice was strong and clear. Metatron had appeared again.

“Good morning, Metatron,” Aziraphale looked at them from their place, crossing their arms behind their back and raising their head. Now they were the supreme archangel; they couldn’t show weakness. “How can I help you?”

“I thought your devotion to heaven would make you start your duties immediately, Aziraphale.”

“And…” Aziraphale showed their best look of confusion, “isn’t that what I’m doing?”

“You’re wasting your time. I let the Sandalphon thing slide because that guy was a nuisance, but I didn’t think you’d dedicate more time than necessary to it.”

Metatron seemed more interested in bothering Aziraphale than anything else, being that stone in the path. Aziraphale hadn’t imagined they’d have to watch out for someone other than Michael.

“Oh, but I think I remember that’s precisely why I was named the new archangel, isn’t it?”

“Excuse me?”

“That’s why heaven’s structure is falling apart, Your Excellency. It’s not well managed.”

Aziraphale began to strut in front of Metatron. Yes, perhaps they were overdoing it a bit with this new confidence, but they had to make many things clear in front of the voice of God.

“Crowley and I managed to evade the system for thousands of years. We managed to stop an Armageddon that both heaven and hell were expecting. They tried to destroy us, and still, they couldn’t…”

Aziraphale stood in front of Metatron, without fear, without lowering their head.

“With all that, do you still think heaven really works?”

The angels present watched Aziraphale. The light in their eyes shone, and it seemed their aura was the sun itself.

"Restructuring heaven is not your job," Metatron rose higher.

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Aziraphale pointed to a few piles of documents. "Do you see that over there? That's thousands of years of undone work, plans that heaven never carried out, manuscripts that, I dare say, could be orders from God Himself that no one paid attention to."

Metatron and the angels were speechless for a few moments.

"If you want to execute your grand plan," Aziraphale used their best sarcasm, "you can't ignore everything the previous administration didn't do. So.."

Aziraphale smoothed their waistcoat, walked back to their desk, and leaned on it with arms crossed.

"Why don't you, instead of questioning me before I've even done anything, let me do my job?"

The lower-ranking angels were astonished. They had seen Aziraphale challenge Metatron at their inauguration ceremony but seeing them so determined and unyielding was surprising.

"Fine, I'll let you continue, but I hope that when everything goes wrong, you sink alone."

And with that, Metatron disappeared again.

Great, this will be worse than I imagined.

"Sorry about that, let's continue with..."

As they turned to speak to the small group of angels again, they saw that everyone was bowing. The reverence was directed at Aziraphale, and a few were even kneeling.

"What- What are you doing?"

"Glory to Your Excellency forever," one of the angels spoke without lifting the bow.

"GLORY TO SUPREME ARCHANGEL AZIRAPHALE," the choir of angels bowed even lower (if that was possible).

"No, don't do that."

"Oh, sorry! Should we kneel?" another angel spoke urgently.

"No! Don't bow," Aziraphale carefully approached and helped all the little angels to stand upright. They placed them straight and stood in front of them. "Remember, you don't have to lower your head to anyone. You are angels, proud and dignified, you shouldn't demean yourselves to anyone. But that doesn't mean you are superior. We have ranks, yes, but we are all part of creation, we are equals. Understood?"

The angels observed Aziraphale in silence, as if they had never expected someone to show them how valuable they were, and it broke Aziraphale's heart.

"Alright, let's begin. We have a lot to discuss."

"YES, YOUR EXCELLENCY," the choir of angels responded immediately.

This will be a long road...

Chapter Text

Almost a week had passed since Aziraphale had been appointed Archangel. The tasks assigned to them were mostly overdue paperwork, and they had Metatron constantly breathing down their neck.

"I know, sir, you've been telling me the same thing for days," Aziraphale was fed up in many ways.

"You've been here a week, Aziraphale, and I haven't seen much progress."

"With all due respect, your excellence, but I honestly think you haven't grasped the amount of paperwork involved in planning the Second Coming, not to mention all the backlog to ensure everything runs perfectly."

"Oh, of course I know. Why do you think I brought you here?"

"Then, as I told you a week ago, please let me do my job. I promise everything will turn out fine."

"I regret being so insistent, but I get the feeling you're more focused on that blasted trial than on your actual work."

Sandalphon's trial would be in another week. Aziraphale hadn't imagined the number of testimonies they would have to collect. In the end, there were nearly 3000 testimonies against the atrocious actions Sandalphon had committed.

"Believe me, sir, I myself didn't grasp the huge problem you had up here with abusive angels."

"Please, I think you're exaggerating a bit."

"Exaggerating? He abused thousands of angels since the beginning of time!"

"I wouldn't precisely call it abuse; I'd call it... corrective measures."

"They weren't simple correctives, Metatron..."

"Well, but that's not why I came to talk to you, Aziraphale. I—"

"I know, I need to hurry up with the plans for the Second Coming. I know."

"Good that you know your priorities. Now try to put them into practice, alright?" Metatron smiled.

"Alright, your excellence."

"Good, with that in mind, I'm more at ease. Keep working."

Aziraphale didn't bow, but they did show a bit more respect. They knew that their defiance towards Metatron had caused them to be constantly watched, so they opted to just go along with him, at least on the surface. Aziraphale gave a slight smile, the one they showed to the most annoying clients, and watched Metatron disappear.

Fuck you

Aziraphale's thoughts were very clear and decisive. Yes, they were working on the Second Coming, but not in the way Metatron imagined. Tired, they sat down and picked up the phone they had ordered to be installed on their desk. It was an exact replica of the one they had in their bookshop, and it was also connected to it.

"Hello?"

"Good afternoon, Mr Fell speaking."

"It's a pleasure to hear from you again, sir."

"The pleasure is mine, Muriel."

"Would you like to order a new book, sir?"

"Oh no, I've lost one of my original volumes and I was wondering if you could find me another."

"The usual one?"

"Indeed, if you would be so kind."

"Right away."

The call was on hold for a few seconds. Aziraphale could hear a faint murmur on the other end of the line until a voice came back on the phone, a voice that made Aziraphale's heart melt.

"Hello, angel."

"Hello again, my dear."

.

.

### A Week Ago

"And with that, we're done for today. Is everything in order?"

"Yes, everything is ready, your excellence."

"Just call me Azira— you know what? Never mind, call me whatever you like."

The small group of angels who would form part of the jury and Aziraphale began organising the grand trial against the angel Sandalphon. Aziraphale assigned most of the tasks to the scribes, which made them feel incredibly useful. Most of them couldn't wait for the trial. They designated a scribe to document the entire trial for the archives. A couple more would gather the evidence against Sandalphon, while others helped Aziraphale draft a new code of conduct. It wasn't an imposition but a guide, something Aziraphale had to explain several times as the angels began reciting the code at every opportunity, like it was the new Ten Commandments given by Moses. After a long meeting, everyone was exhausted.

"Well, almost everything is ready. I'll see you all again tomorrow. We need to gather all the testimonies and read them in detail. I'll need a couple of hands to present the evidence during the trial."

"So, not all of us will be on the jury?" asked a young cherub with wavy brown hair, who Aziraphale estimated to be no older than 300 years.

"No, dear. All those helping me gather evidence will no longer be impartial. So, if we exclude the writer, those helping me process evidence, those who helped draft the code, and those presenting the evidence, we'll have a jury of 35 angels. I think that's an acceptable number."

The small group of angels seemed excited. From a distance, they looked like a group of university students enjoying their favourite professor's class.

"That's all for today, my dears. Please rest, you deserve it."

"THANK YOU, YOUR EXCELLENCE." The chorus of angels gradually left the office, or rather, almost all of them.

"A-Aziraphale?" Muriel remained still in front of Aziraphale's desk.

"Oh, Muriel, do you need something?"

Muriel approached the desk.

"Sorry to bother you, but Mr. Crowley was very insistent that I give you this."

Aziraphale's eyes widened. They hadn't expected to receive a message from Crowley, assuming that while in Heaven, they wouldn't hear from him until it was all over. They looked at the piece of paper in Muriel's open palm, which had a small message.

"Please angel, I want to know that you're alright. 981"

"What is this..."

"Mr. Crowley said there was a safe way to connect Earth with Heaven. That's one of the codes he still remembers, though he didn't tell me where to input the code."

Aziraphale was touched. Crowley still wanted to talk to them. They imagined Crowley would feel down about everything that had happened, just as Aziraphale felt inside, but this was a good sign.

"I think I know how it works." Aziraphale kept the small piece of paper. "Muriel, I need you to bring in some installers. I need a telephone."

...

"I hate having to go through all that ridiculous filtering, it's stupid."

"I know, but you remembering those codes means both Heaven and Hell could access this line, so we need to be sure."

"Ngk."

"I really hope all this ends, though it won't be soon."

"What's going on? Last time, you couldn't tell me much."

"I had only been here a few days. I needed to see how things were first, and believe me, they're worse than we could have imagined."

"Is it that bad?"

"Crowley, Heaven is broken. There's no order. The lower-ranking angels are trampled on, and the higher-ranking ones think they can walk all over them. The whole Sandalphon case is just the tip of the iceberg. What can we expect from Heaven if those who make it up are as lost as humanity?"

"Wow, in 6000 years, I never imagined hearing you say that."

"This is serious, Crowley. Metatron is constantly on my back. It's like he's in a desperate rush to finish everything."

"Do you mean the Second Coming?"

"Yes. You'd think all this had been carefully planned, but there's hardly anything. All the documents on it are just drafts, loose sheets of ideas that were later incorporated."

"But that should benefit us in some way."

"I'd think the same, but how do you stop a plan you don't know? Moreover, how do you stop something that doesn't exist?"

"But at Gabriel's trial, they clearly talked about the plan for the Second Coming. It seemed like everything was ready to go."

"That's what worries me. Metatron brought me here like he wants me to structure the plan from scratch. So, where's the original plan? There's something I'm not being told, Crowley, and I'm not going to let it go."

"Please angel, don't put yourself at risk."

"I'll do my best, but I hate to say it, we both know that at some point, I'll have to confront them directly."

"You don't have to do it alone, Aziraphale. You've got me."

Aziraphale smiled.

"I know, but it's time for me to rescue you from all this. I owe it to you."

"You don't owe me anything, angel. Everything I did was because I wanted to. I never expected anything in return."

"I know that too, but I want to do it."

"Aziraphale..."

Both remained silent for a moment, simply listening to each other's breathing over the phone.

"I have to go. I wouldn't want anyone to start suspecting something."

"Alright, please don't do anything stupid, at least not without me, alright?"

"I wouldn't deny you that fun, Crowley," Aziraphale responded with a small laugh.

"You are better not. See you soon, angel."

"Goodbye, Crowley."

Aziraphale hung up the phone.

I love you.

...

A Week Later

"Aziraphale," Uriel called from the office door, "we're ready."

"Alright, I'll be right there."

The angels had gathered again in the hall where Aziraphale was appointed the new Supreme Archangel, but now it was set up to be the room for a huge jury. Sandalphon stood in the centre, with everyone's eyes on his shiny and rather unattractive semi-bald head. He, along with everyone present, awaited Aziraphale to start the trial.

"Good, I'm glad to see you all again."

Aziraphale entered the room, their presence now synonymous with authority, but not in a bad way. It was radiant and powerful, but not threatening, at least not most of the time. Aziraphale no longer wore their old coat. While it provided familiarity and warmth on Earth, they found it quite impractical in Heaven, often getting caught in the archives. So, for now, they settled for a light blue velvet waistcoat, a white shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbows, a small darker blue bow tie at their neck just below their impeccable beard, a pair of white trousers and shoes, and a gold watch. They imagined themselves as the White Rabbit from *Alice in Wonderland*.

"ATTENTION," the angel scribe called out, "PRESENTING SUPREME ARCHANGEL AZIRAPHALE."

All the angels, excluding Sandalphon who was already standing in the centre, stood up to show their respects to the archangel.

"Please, take your seats." Aziraphale was a bit embarrassed. Yes, they were gradually winning over the other angels, but they never imagined becoming such an eminent figure. "We are here to conduct the trial against the angel Sandalphon." Aziraphale stood at the highest point of the podium their young assistants had set up, looking at Sandalphon, who, rather than being scared, seemed to be enjoying the attention.

"May God have mercy on your soul."

Chapter Text

Aziraphale took a moment to evaluate those present. Uriel stood keeping the boundary between the audience of angels and the podium. Aziraphale was surprised by Uriel’s willingness to help with these details. On the other hand, Michael was in the front row, seeing attentively and nervously tapping her knee, almost biting her perfect nails—an unusually anxious state for her. Although this was a trial against Sandalphon, Aziraphale knew Michael could be implicated in many of these situations.

“Before anything else, I want everyone present to understand what they are about to witness.” Aziraphale looked intensely at everyone in the grand hall. “This trial is based on human trials; however, we had to restructure it into a much simpler format, given the short notice.”

The angels watched attentively as the Supreme Archangel spoke.

“Now, how will this be decided? You might think it would not be fair, but as you will hear in a few moments, and from the experience of many of you, you’ll realize it would be Sandalphon’s word against the testimony of over 3,000 angels.” At this, Aziraphale saw the surprised faces of Michael and Saraquiel, who had remained so impartial that even Aziraphale occasionally forgot his presence. Uriel was not impressed—she had helped Aziraphale in much of the trial’s organization.

“To avoid a biased outcome, we formed a small jury composed of angels who have had little or no interaction with the accused. Not having positive or negative interactions makes them completely neutral, and they can decide based purely on what’s presented in the trial.” Aziraphale looked at the small group of jury angels. “Now, as you’ll see, all this was organized so that both sides would have a voice. Ideally, the accused, in this case, Sandalphon, would have a defender.” Sandalphon looked arrogantly at Aziraphale. “Though no one volunteered, to be honest.” Laughter erupted from the audience.

“I don’t need one,” declared Sandalphon, seemingly oblivious to everything that was about to come. His arrogant smile looked to irritate Aziraphale, but in a game where the most cunning angel would win, Aziraphale had a significant advantage.

“Well, since you don’t have the… capability to get one on your own, we can assign you one.” Emphasizing exact words was always a great gift.

“I said I don’t need one.”

Aziraphale suspected Sandalphon was a bit of an idiot but didn’t expect him to be this foolish.

“The accused waives his right to a defender.” It wasn’t a question; it was a clarification. Aziraphale had expected no angel would voluntarily advocate for Sandalphon, but he hadn’t expected Sandalphon to renounce this right himself.

“I understand I can defend myself, so I will. I’m not afraid of you, Aziraphale” That mocking smile screamed “HIT ME” in Aziraphale’s eyes.

“Fine” Aziraphale sighed; this was going to be a long trial. “You were given the opportunity, Sandalphon. Now we’re all witnesses to your stupidity.”

The younger angels seemed amused by this new temperament, while others in the audience covered their mouths, trying to appear indignant. Aziraphale could sense they were just trying to keep their composure. Sandalphon’s smile began to falter under the Supreme Archangel’s passive-aggressive comments.

Perfect.

''Then, since everything is clear, we can begin,'' Aziraphale took a deep breath. ''Please, Lumiel, start.''

The angel began to read.

'We will now read the list of charges against the current archangel Sandalphon.' Lumiel unrolled a scroll that almost touched the ground.

In reality, the list didn't take up the whole scroll; Aziraphale had decided to make it a bit longer than it was to scare the poor bald archangel a bit.

'I will list in order the unfortunate actions of Archangel Sandalphon, taken and compiled from the statements of 3,250 angels.' Sandalphon's small gasp was a delight to Aziraphale.

After several minutes of listing and detailing each of Sandalphon's wrongdoings, the poor angels on the jury were about to faint.

'Lastly, he is accused of the gravest sin within the behaviour protocols in Heaven...'

Suddenly, an overwhelming silence filled the entire hall. It seemed Sandalphon had forgotten about this little detail; he was truly in trouble.

'Archangel Sandalphon is formally accused of blasphemy.' The last word came out of the angel's mouth quickly and with such force, as if just mentioning it burned his lips.

'THIS ISN'T FAIR!' Sandalphon finally began to lose control. 'YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME, AZIRAPHALE!'

‘Nobody’s doing anything to you, Sandalphon,’ Aziraphale responded with all the calm in the world, sitting comfortably with their legs crossed and an elbow resting on one of their knees. ‘It's the charge against you—’

‘THERE'S NO WAY, YOU CAN ACCUSE ME OF SOMETHING SO VILE!’

‘Oh, of course there is. We've listed all your actions against your peers: you've trampled, assaulted, belittled, punished, and cursed others, taking on powers that aren't yours. If you'd admitted you acted on your own when I first accused you, we might not be here today.’ Aziraphale straightened up and clasped their hands together.

‘I-I never—’

‘You couldn’t accept that you, a supposed archangel, made so many mistakes on your own. No, you had to mention HER.’

‘I WAS DOING THE RIGHT THING!’

‘My question is, where did you get that idea? Who told you everything you did was right?’

‘I...’

‘Were you that convinced?’

‘I wasn’t convinced, I DID WHAT I WAS TOLD, NOTHING MORE!’ Sandalphon moved towards the podium where the small jury was, trying to evoke some sympathy. Aziraphale tapped the podium with their palm to draw Sandalphon's attention back.

‘WHO, SANDALPHON? WHO TOLD YOU TO DO ALL THIS?’ Aziraphale needed to clear this up soon; they knew this trial would uncover a long-hidden mess in Heaven.

‘I, no, I can’t.’ Sandalphon seemed to shrink more and more.

‘Sandalphon, this is your last chance. Just admit it was your mistake, just you and your big ego that hurt thousands of angels.’

‘I, I...’ Sandalphon couldn’t lift his gaze. Where had all that confidence gone?

‘Sandalphon...’ Aziraphale just wanted to make a point. Yes, they were irritated by Sandalphon's attitude, but that was precisely what they wanted to make clear. Just because they were angels didn't mean they were exempt from making mistakes. They weren’t perfect beings; Heaven wasn’t perfect. Maybe, if everyone could understand that, they might understand humanity. Deep down, Aziraphale hoped that all their peers could share in that knowledge, the one everyone thought was an exclusive gift to Adam and Eve—the ability to discern good from evil beyond black and white, beyond Heaven and Hell, beyond Her. They wanted them to understand their capacity for personal judgment, the ability to decide for themselves, to feel that freedom, the freedom to forge their own path and not be tied to a plan destined for failure, tied to someone who might never have been there, to stop expecting what would happen in the future and just enjoy the present without forgetting the past but learning from it.

Who's blaspheming now, eh, Aziraphale?

‘Please, you can get out of this...’

‘I- I told you, I did what I was told.’

‘Sandalphon, stop insisting, you know that—’

‘AREN’T YOU LISTENING TO ME?’

Aziraphale was shocked to see Sandalphon’s face—no arrogance, no mockery, no ego, just a face full of desperation. Was it real? Had Sandalphon hit rock bottom, or was this another one of his strategies?

‘I JUST DID WHAT THEY...’ Sandalphon paused, looking at the podium, seemingly regretting speaking. ‘I just did what they asked me to do, I followed orders, that's all.’

The last phrase came out so low that Aziraphale almost didn’t hear it.

‘Wait, so you weren’t lying about following orders? Are you saying everything you did was commanded by someone else?’

‘Please, Aziraphale, you of all angels here know how cruel Heaven can be.’

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. Yes, they knew what Heaven was capable of to keep control over Earth and Hell. That was why Aziraphale had questioned things for so long. But did they apply their own punishments up here too? they had seen it many times when they were reprimanded. Aziraphale believed Heaven had a reason for doing so, real or not, they had always had a knack for bothering them, after all, they had been acting behind their backs for years. All in all, they understood the punishments, but up here? Aziraphale could bet none of the angels’ present would be willing to rebel, the few who did were expelled and sent to Hell in their time, after that, no one would want to start another movement. So, was all this necessary? Wasn’t brainwashing from creation enough? They were also subjected to excessive punishments to keep them in line.

‘But... what’s the motive? Isn’t everything they already do on Earth enough?’

It might not have been their point, but they couldn’t accuse whoever gave the orders without knowing who it was. If they did, they’d lose the advantage and probably be even more watched. They’d get that information out of Sandalphon later.

‘Ha! Aziraphale, everything up here is imposed on us. Why do you think you're the only angel still with jurisdiction on Earth?’

The only one? As far as Aziraphale had been allowed to investigate when they were a principality, they weren’t the only angel on Earth, although they had been there the longest. Crowley had always questioned that point; Aziraphale never knew of the other angels.

‘Silence, Sandalphon,’ Michael declared from her place.

Okay, he was touching a sensitive point, he had to continue.

‘Demons have representatives all over the Earth. Even when your... “friend” Crowley was expelled, they at once sent someone to take his place, or am I wrong?’ The smile had returned.

‘Yes, Crowley was quite important in Hell.’

‘That's what I'm getting at. You had practically the same position, but Crowley was considered one of the most important demons in Hell, while you were a poor, failed angel stuck on Earth.’

Aziraphale got up from their podium and in a couple of seconds was in front of Sandalphon, who had kept that smile despite the clear trembling of his legs.

‘I thought it was clear that you couldn’t keep talking to me like that.’ Aziraphale's voice was deep and serious. Everyone presents remained still, trying to avoid increasing the archangel’s fury.

‘Did I say anything that wasn’t true?’

Sandalphon looked Aziraphale up and down, smiled, and licked his lips. Aziraphale stepped back a bit, not giving in, just not giving Sandalphon the satisfaction of being so close.

‘You're disgusting.’

‘No, I'm divine.’ Sandalphon gave a small wink.

Aziraphale placed their hands behind their back. Previously, this was to calm their nerves; now it was to calm their urge to hit Sandalphon. They took a deep breath and began to walk a bit around the other archangel.

‘This isn’t getting us anywhere, Sandalphon. You keep dodging the issue. You’re not trying to defend yourself; you're trying to evade your guilt. So, if you don't have anything relevant to say, I’ll have the jury start deliberating, and believe me, you don’t have much chance of winning.’

‘Oh, and what are you going to do, Aziraphale? Do you plan to flog me and lock me in a dungeon?’ Sandalphon's look no longer looked to mock Aziraphale; it even seemed more lascivious than egotistical, utterly disgusting.

Aziraphale at once recognized Sandalphon's look. They had lived long enough on Earth, in different eras and places, but that look always meant the same thing.

‘Why do I get the impression that’s exactly what you want?’ Aziraphale was disgusted but could use this situation to their advantage.

‘W-What?’ Sandalphon didn’t expect that response.

‘That's what you’re making me understand, Sandalphon. You’re not trying to defend yourself and you’re not avoiding punishment either.’ Aziraphale moved towards the bald archangel again. ‘However, you’ve been proposing somewhat suggestive punishments that, rather than being punishments, I think you would enjoy.’

‘HOW DARE YOU?!’ Sandalphon lunged at Aziraphale, trying to punch them, but ended up finding himself bound hand and foot, standing again in the middle of the room. Both the angels on the jury, the scribes at the podium, and those attending the trial panicked for a moment.

‘You need to calm down, Sandalphon.’ Uriel was now standing beside him, holding one of the ropes and tightening it more each time Sandalphon writhed.

‘Thank you very much, Uriel,’ Aziraphale smiled at them conspiratorially. ‘But it wasn’t necessary; I don’t think he would have done anything more than embarrass himself again.’

‘No problem, it’s part of my job to contain problematic angels.’

‘Yes, I remember.’

Michael and Saraquiel watched the situation with scrutinising looks; up until now, they hadn’t tried to intervene beyond one or two comments.

‘Let me go, Uriel!’ Sandalphon writhed forcefully.

‘You know she won’t, Sandalphon,’ Aziraphale returned to their place at the podium.

‘Now the pretty angel tells you what to do, Uriel?’

Uriel didn’t even flinch, just continued to watch him.

‘Oh,’ Uriel smiled at Sandalphon. ‘Now you think she’s pretty?’

Sandalphon turned bright red, though it was hard to tell if it was from rage or embarrassment—or maybe a bit of both.

‘We’ve strayed off topic,’ Aziraphale commented, back at the podium. ‘Sandalphon, you’re accused of crimes against your fellow angels, heaven, and even God himself.’ Aziraphale began to declaim, ‘You haven’t defended yourself and have claimed to be following orders from someone else; however, you haven’t shown any proof of that.’ Sandalphon just stood there, keeping his haughty expression. Though the urge to hit him had lessened considerably, it would look pretty bad to hit a bound angel, right? ‘I think we all agree this doesn’t look good for you, Sandalphon.’

Sandalphon remained silent. Aziraphale sighed.

‘Alright, if you’re not going to defend yourself and you’re not going to provide any evidence, I think it’s time for our dear jury to start deliberating.’

They made a signal, and the small group of angels in the jury stood up to leave and reflect on the case presented. Realistically, Aziraphale doubted they’d have much to debate. The jury was about to leave when Sandalphon’s voice once again drew everyone’s attention.

‘I know what you’re trying to do,’ he said, his head lowered as if he were only looking at his feet.

‘Sorry?’ Aziraphale stopped the jury with another signal.

‘Do you think this will make any difference?’ Sandalphon looked up. ‘Heaven has worked like this for as long as I can remember, Aziraphale. Don’t think your good intentions and a few punishments for angels like me will change anything.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You can’t save something that’s been rotting for so long. It’s not just a few rebellious angels; it’s a whole network, invisible threads that force us to act the way they want…’

‘For God’s sake, Sandalphon!’ Michael finally broke her silence. ‘Are you saying that all your criminal acts were orders from someone else?’ She stood up, pointing an accusing finger at Sandalphon.

‘You took your time,’ Sandalphon replied, rolling his eyes.

‘Admit it, you’re just trying to save your wings.’

‘Save my wings? I’m completely screwed! At least Aziraphale is having the decency to give me a fair trial!’ Sandalphon turned back to the podium, looking at Aziraphale.

‘You could have judged me individually and thrown me into the flames of hell, like we tried to do with you.’ Sandalphon's gaze had changed so much since the start of the trial. ‘Why didn’t you?’

The room was filled with angels, all expectantly watching the situation unfold. Aziraphale noticed that everyone present had already given their vote of confidence, even if they didn’t realise it yet. They no longer questioned them; they simply followed them. This wasn’t what Aziraphale’s wanted; they wasn’t transforming their faith, they was just copying and pasting their own self.

‘I said it before and I’ll say it now, everyone deserves a chance. Everyone should have the freedom to make mistakes and learn from them,’

Even idiots like you. Aziraphale thought.

‘Not because some divine will imposes it on them, not because I or…’ Aziraphale paused, everyone understood who else they was referring to ‘Or some divine plan tells them what they should do, say, or think.’ They stood up from they podium to address all the angels watching they at that moment. ‘We were created with our own minds, use them. I’ve explained everything about this trial, all the wrongful actions, but it’s not an absolute truth. Question me, question yourselves, form your own criteria.’

Half of those present stifled a gasp.

‘And when you finally see that you can shape your own destiny, you’ll know which path to follow.’

No one dared break the silence that followed. Aziraphale knew they was probably playing with fire by giving that speech at that moment, but with the Second Coming hot on they heels and Metatron’s pressure, Aziraphale needed to start speeding up his plans.

‘You don’t even know what you’ve gotten yourself into, pretty boy,’ said Sandalphon.

‘Believe me, I know exactly what trouble I’ve just stepped into.’

---

Chapter Text

Footsteps echoed in the distance, growing steadily louder, the sound bouncing off the walls of that filthy basement—more akin to one of Hell’s chambers than a heavenly dungeon, which was where it was supposed to be. Sandalphon had been there for days, bound and gagged, hoping someone might take pity on his soul. The problem? No one in the bloody Heavens would. Only a handful of angels even knew this place existed, and none of them had any intention of letting him out.

"I see you’re still standing, Sandalphon," a voice called out as the footsteps stopped in front of the cell.

"Not thanks to you, you bastard!"

"Hey, I couldn’t interfere. How would it look if I went against the Supreme Archangel?"

"YOU’RE THEIR BLOODY BOSS!"

"Yes, but they’ve got the others’ sympathy."

"But my punishment was excessive! Why the hell am I here? You should’ve pulled me out!"

"Oh, come on, Sandalphon. You know exactly why you’re here."

The footsteps came closer to the cell, and from outside, a firm, menacing voice reverberated in Sandalphon’s ears.

"Me-Metatron..." The ex-archangel’s legs buckled, trembling so much that he couldn’t stay upright. "P-please, you know I won’t say anything..."

The cell door creaked open, and the slow, deliberate steps moved toward the bald angel.

"P-please, I swear I’ll—AAHGJ!" Sandalphon’s words were cut short as a hand clamped around his throat, hoisting him into the air.

Metatron tightened his grip, relishing the fear he saw in Sandalphon’s wide, frantic eyes. He let out a sigh and smiled.

"You don’t know how much I missed this—seeing the terror of the divine reduce souls to nothing," Metatron murmured, his grip tightening further. "It’s the purest form of begging for God’s mercy."

Sandalphon’s face turned blue as his hands clawed uselessly at Metatron’s iron grip. His eyes brimmed with raw, primal horror, and his muffled screams were choked off entirely by the crushing pressure around his neck.

"Now, under normal circumstances, this might’ve been enough," Metatron said, feigning a look of pity as he gazed at Sandalphon.

Sandalphon’s eyes widened further.

"But... you know too much.".

.

.

.

Three days earlier.

"THIS IS ABSOLUTELY OUTRAGEOUS!" Sandalphon’s voice boomed in the ears of everyone present. "YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME!"

"The trial was conducted fairly, Sandalphon," Uriel said, speaking to him as though he were a petulant child. "The jury was carefully selected to be completely neutral, and the evidence from the testimonies is overwhelming."

"YOU CAN’T DEMOTE ME TO A BLOODY RECORD-KEEPING ANGEL!" Sandalphon writhed in fury. "I’M A BLOODY ARCHANGEL!"

"You were, Sandalphon. Were a bloody archangel," Aziraphale said, their voice unnervingly calm. "Now that the trial has concluded, we can see that your behaviour was far from worthy of an angel." They stood from their podium and walked slowly towards Sandalphon, who was now being restrained by Uriel. "But I must admit, the punishment decided for you doesn’t seem adequate for everything you’ve done."

A collective gasp rippled through the room. Uriel watched Aziraphale with feigned composure, but a flicker of fear and astonishment betrayed her eyes. Meanwhile, Sandalphon looked... hopeful. Just a little.

"A-Aziraphale," Sandalphon stammered, falling to his knees. "I-I knew you—you’d understand." He bowed his head so low it nearly touched the floor.

"Oh, but of course I understand. I’ve realised the punishment isn’t quite right," Aziraphale said, now pacing leisurely back and forth as Sandalphon and the rest of the room watched with bated breath. "At first, I had no issue with making you a record-keeping angel. I thought it might make you come to your senses and understand that every angel is important, regardless of the tasks they’re assigned." Aziraphale paused for a moment, glancing warmly at their small jury and team who had supported them over the past few weeks. They offered them a soft smile. "But, given your complete lack of skills beyond intimidating others, I’m afraid even that task is far too much for you."

A soft ripple of laughter echoed through the grand hall, even drawing a brief, almost inaudible chuckle from Uriel, who quickly pressed her lips together to stop herself from bursting into a full-on, satisfied laugh.

If Sandalphon could blush like a tomato thanks to the blood rushing to his face in anger (though the shine of his bald head also played a part), he now resembled a massive, furious blueberry. To say he was enraged would be an understatement. His expression radiated pure fury, but Aziraphale wasn’t afraid.

In truth, Aziraphale reflected, they’d never feared Sandalphon. They had the means and strength to defend themself if necessary, but Aziraphale had never been one for violence. Besides, there had always been a sliver of respect for Sandalphon as a superior angel, paired with a deep, ever-present reverence—or fear—for God.

Aziraphale stopped their small circular stroll and stood once more in front of Sandalphon.

"You see, I simply can’t let an angel like you continue wandering around unchecked. But that’s not what worries me the most." Aziraphale stepped closer. "The real issue, Sandalphon, is that I can’t let you get away with this so easily."

Sandalphon’s face was, quite literally, a prism of emotions. His furious blue tone drained rapidly to a ghostly pale white as he caught the expression in Aziraphale’s eyes.

"W-what do you mean by that…?"

"Well," Aziraphale began, their voice calm but cutting, "wiping your memory would be more of a reward than a punishment, don’t you think? Erasing all the suffering you caused, and allowing you to simply move on with your life, forcing everyone else to treat you with a decency you don’t deserve—just because you no longer remember what you’ve done? That, as I’ve already said, seems far more like a reward than a punishment."

A murmur swept through the gathered angels as Sandalphon visibly struggled to hold himself together, metaphorically and perhaps literally.

"And what exactly do you plan to do, Aziraphale?" Michael’s voice cut sharply through the chatter, silencing the room and drawing all attention her way. "You’ve been preaching up here that everyone deserves a second chance, haven’t you?"

"That’s right, Michael, that’s exactly what I said," Aziraphale replied calmly. Before Michael could interject further, Aziraphale cut her off. "However, that second chance must be earned. Sandalphon must be punished for all the harm he’s caused, and if he properly atones for his sins, he will be granted that second chance."

The angels watched in awe as Aziraphale began to conclude the trial.

"Sandalphon, by the authority of this council and under my proclamation as Supreme Archangel, I declare you guilty of all charges."

Still kneeling, Sandalphon was hauled to his feet by Uriel to hear his sentence delivered properly.

"Now, given that the previously imposed punishment was unsuitable," Aziraphale ascended their podium once again, their majestic wings spreading behind them, "I sentence you to live a mortal life."

Gasps of horror swept through the hall, the weight of Aziraphale’s words shaking even the most stoic of angels. It made Aziraphale hesitate for a brief moment, but they knew this was the right course of action.

"NO, NO, YOU CAN’T! HOW THE HELL CAN YOU DO THIS?!" Sandalphon struggled fruitlessly, but Uriel’s grip was unyielding.

"You will live as a mortal human. You’ll have to coexist with the very humans you’ve always despised, and you will submit a monthly report on your experiences to me."

"YOU BASTARD!"

"And I think it’s worth reminding you what being mortal truly means. As the name implies, Sandalphon, you can die."

The deathly silence that swept through the hall chilled everyone to their core.

"I know this is terrifying," Aziraphale continued, their voice softening slightly. "Believe me, I came close to dying at their hands. Do you remember?"

Even Uriel had to lower her head at that remark.

"But let me assure you, this doesn’t mean you’ll disappear entirely, unlike what you intended to do to me."

Sandalphon’s bloodshot eyes burned with fury as Aziraphale signed the final decree.

"Here’s how it will work. If you die as a human, your soul will return to its ethereal state, and we’ll reconsider whether you’ve earned that second chance. Understood?"

Sandalphon’s eyes glimmered with malice, clearly formulating ways to exploit the situation. But Aziraphale, as always, was two steps ahead.

"But only if your death is accidental. You may not interfere with your own death. And should you come up with the grand idea of faking an accident to get back up here, let me remind you of the terms: you are subject to a minimum of six months as a human. If you die before that time, you’ll be sent back to start again from scratch. Do you understand the conditions, Sandalphon?"

Sandalphon remained silent, utterly defeated, and didn’t utter a single word.

"Aziraphale," Uriel finally spoke, breaking the tense silence, "the transformation of an angel’s soul, unless done by God herself, will take at least five days to process all the paperwork and complete the ritual."

"That’s true"

A deep, older voice resonated throughout the place, Metatron, who hadn’t intervened at all during the trial, finally appeared.

‘Your Eminence,’ Uriel bowed.

‘Aziraphale,’ Metatron greeted.

‘Metatron,’ Aziraphale replied in greeting, with their hands behind their back and their chin raised. ‘What brings you to this trial? Last time, you weren’t remotely interested in participating.’

‘I wasn’t going to, Aziraphale, but it seems you have a little issue,’ Metatron dismissed his "giant-head" figure and adopted the same one they had when they came down to Earth to deceive Aziraphale. ‘It seems you haven’t quite planned what to do with Sandalphon during the 5 days of the conversion process.’

‘Metatron, we were just getting to that part—’

‘If you’ll allow me,’ Metatron interrupted Aziraphale. ‘I believe I can take care of it.’

‘Really? Tell me, how would you take care of it?’ Aziraphale tried their hardest not to sound like a complete idiot, but they couldn’t stand Metatron.

‘Don’t worry about it, Aziraphale, you’ve done enough with this trial to keep getting distracted by a pest like this.’

‘Metatron, if you’re worried that I might neglect my duties, really, I—’

‘Oh, relax Aziraphale, it’s not that I’m concerned you’ll neglect them in the near future, you already did with this trial,’ Metatron flashed a smile that was meant to be warm, but it seemed full of venom. ‘I don’t want this matter to drag on any longer, so…’ Metatron placed a hand on Aziraphale’s shoulder. ‘Let me finish this, alright?’
Aziraphale looked at them for a moment.

‘With all due respect, Metatron,’ Aziraphale took his hand and removed it from their shoulder. ‘This is MY trial, I am the judge, and I am the one who must finish this.’
Metatron withdrew his hand, closing it into a fist at his side, clearly annoyed.

‘So, if you don’t want my valuable help, what do you plan to do? Keep him locked up in your office with you until the deadline is up?’

‘Oh, of course not, I’m sure that wouldn’t be much of a punishment for him either.’
Sandalphon tried to protest miserably, but Uriel’s firm grip stopped him.

‘We can place him under custody, Aziraphale,’ Uriel said while holding onto Sandalphon. ‘I think I know where we can put him, if I may make the suggestion.’

‘Of course, Uriel, I appreciate the help,’ Aziraphale thanked Uriel’s intervention and then turned to Metatron. ‘As you can see, we have everything under control.’

This infuriated Metatron, though he hid it so well that it was probably only perceptible to someone as close as Aziraphale.

‘So, where will you put him, Uriel?’ Metatron seemed to be trying to tip things in his favour, completely ignoring Aziraphale and addressing Uriel directly.
Aziraphale didn’t trust Metatron; it was clear there was much more going on behind all of this, but it was a matter between Aziraphale and him. If Uriel spoke, the whole trial would probably go down the drain. It was incredibly odd that Metatron hadn’t interfered until they decided that Sandalphon wouldn’t lose his memory, and all the insinuations about following orders—everything started connecting in Aziraphale’s mind. They couldn’t let Metatron interfere, though it was already too late. He would know where it was…

‘I’m sorry, Your Eminence,’ Uriel said with admirable seriousness. ‘I’ll deal with that matter directly with the Supreme Archangel, if you don’t mind.’

Aziraphale was stunned. They looked at Uriel, who seemed to be trembling slightly when addressing Metatron like that. Yet, Uriel decided to back them up. Aziraphale never imagined feeling so grateful to her, and they’d make sure to let her know later.

‘Of course, Uriel, it’s good to see where the loyalties lie up here, isn’t it?’ Metatron smiled at Uriel, which made her—the fearsome archangel—freeze in fear.

‘I hope this matter doesn’t escalate much further, Aziraphale. Remember, I brought you here for a reason.’

‘I know, sir, and I hope you’ll let me do my job properly.’

‘Of course, and I think you’re aware of the consequences if you don’t do what’s expected of you.’

‘Believe me, I understand.’

‘Good.’

Metatron disappeared from the place, and the atmosphere in general became heavy. Aziraphale had forgotten about everyone present. Before saying anything, the angel scribe Lumiel stood up from the podium.

‘We hereby conclude the trial of the Archangel Sandalphon. Thank you all for your presence.’

The angels took this as their cue and slowly began leaving the place, leaving only a few scribes from Aziraphale’s team, Aziraphale, Uriel, and Sandalphon.

‘You shouldn’t have confronted him, Uriel.’

‘I don’t even know why I did, to be honest,’ Uriel seemed shaken. ‘But I thought it was the right thing to do.’

Aziraphale stepped closer and placed a friendly hand on her shoulder.

‘I really appreciate it, truly.’

Uriel felt a little uncomfortable; she wasn’t used to receiving thanks for anything. Aziraphale noticed this and withdrew their hand.

‘Aw, you two are so cute,’ Sandalphon said mockingly.

‘Jealous? Sorry, you’re really not my type.’

‘Oh, of course not, you like the bitchy red-’

Sandalphon couldn’t finish the sentence; Aziraphale had him by the throat.

‘I’ve had a long day putting up with you, Sandalphon, so I’ll tell you this one last time—shut your mouth.’

Aziraphale’s new angelic voice returned, that terrifying chorus of voices that almost made Sandalphon wet himself (or whatever equivalent that would be for angels without human needs).

‘Aziraphale, I think it’d be best to take him somewhere else,’ Uriel didn’t seem to care much about what Aziraphale did to Sandalphon, but reminded them that there were still other angels present. ‘There’s a place where he can stay without bothering anyone.’

‘Alright,’ Aziraphale put Sandalphon’s feet back on the floor. ‘But it has to be accessible; I still have questions to ask him.’

‘Sure, I think we can take him to the dungeons. They were made for angels exiled from heaven during the Great War. Metatron must suspect we’ll take him there, but there are so many of them that it’ll take him a while to find him.’

‘Well, I hope it takes at least five days.’

Aziraphale, Uriel, and Sandalphon walked through the deepest corners of heaven. The urgency of the entire situation had lessened a bit once the ex-archangel was properly placed in a cell. It was only at that moment that Aziraphale reflected on what Uriel had said.

‘Uriel, this… Did you say that there were angels here before?’

‘I told you, Aziraphale, these cells were made for the deserting angels.’

‘So, this is where they kept them before banishing them?’

The place was simply horrible. Being there, it was almost impossible to tell they were still in heaven. The dungeons were an infinite extension of mazes, corridors, and doors. The cells were dark, resembling individual caves, the atmosphere heavy, and the spaces so cramped that no more than three people could fit in each cell. There was practically no light inside, and the path was illuminated by what seemed to be torches that appeared just long enough to let them pass before disappearing again. They were a strange version of motion sensors. The place was clearly designed to suffocate anyone inside. The misery, the sadness, and the desperation were felt constantly. It seemed like more than 6000 years hadn’t been enough to erase all the pain that had been in this place. Upon paying a little more attention to the cells themselves, Aziraphale noticed the chains that connected to the walls, ceiling, and floor of each cell. They’d been a prisoner before. They knew how cruel human confinements could be, but to think that this had happened in heaven too, a place that should have been pure, full of love, where peace should reign and God’s word should fill everyone’s hearts—this made another piece of Aziraphale’s already shattered heart break even more. That institution called “Heaven,” everything Aziraphale had defended with all their might because it was what they believed in, the foundation of their faith, it all went down the drain in a matter of seconds.

Aziraphale had questioned their faith thousands of years ago, with Job, Noah and the ark, Jesus, but above all, with Crowley.

And in that moment, like a bucket of cold water, they remembered that Crowley they had met before creation—the beautiful angel with tiny curls and a look filled with wonder and brightness. That curious and passionate angel who loved creating and building new ideas. The divine creator of stars whom Aziraphale had fallen for completely from the very first time they saw him.

Aziraphale felt a lump form in their throat. Suddenly, the image of that beautiful angel, the one Aziraphale had fallen for, being chained and locked up down here, filled with fear and pain, became a new nightmare for Aziraphale.

Crowley had never talked much about his fall, but Aziraphale could always detect the implicit pain that came with speaking about it. And now that they knew a bit more about everything Crowley had been through before finally becoming a demon, Aziraphale could barely hold back a tear, but reminded themselves that it wasn’t the time. They would allow themselves to cry, but when they were alone.

‘Seems like this place is too much,’ they allowed themselves to comment before their thoughts pulled them deeper into their mind.

‘It is,’ Uriel replied. ‘Though it may seem impossible, this place was once full of angels, though many didn’t make it out of here either.’

That comment completely confused Aziraphale.

‘Are you saying there are still angels locked up here from back then?’

Uriel's gaze echoed in Aziraphale's memory, seeming surprised by their lack of understanding. Suddenly, she turned her gaze away and began to mumble, trying to find the words to explain something. However, Sandalphon let out a loud laugh. This wasn’t good.

‘Oh, Aziraphale, the same sweet and naive little angel as always.’

Aziraphale’s blood boiled at Sandalphon’s comment.

‘Even though you’re the Supreme Archangel, you still lack a bit of brains to truly understand what happened here.’

Uriel, who had been holding Sandalphon with his arms chained behind his back, tightened her grip as a warning. It didn’t seem to matter, though, as Sandalphon appeared determined to press on.

‘I was here, you know? Definitely not locked up. I didn’t fall as low as those vermin.’

That comment was clearly meant to provoke Aziraphale, so they decided to press forward. They wanted to see how far Sandalphon would go.

‘All those we sent here were given the chance to redeem themselves, to welcome God’s word again,’ he sighed, as though feeling nostalgic. ‘But it seemed kindness wasn’t enough. All those idiots, they let themselves be manipulated naively by that bastard Lucifer. They were reluctant to reconsider, so we realised they were defective.’
Sandalphon looked at Aziraphale, waiting to see their reaction. When he noticed the slightest hint of a response, he continued.

‘We couldn’t allow those angels to contaminate the others, but there was no protocol to follow at the time, so we resorted to various methods.’

‘Methods for what exactly?’ Aziraphale asked.

‘Oh, God knows we tried everything. We thought the fairest thing was to try to bring them back to the right path, remind them what God expected from them and what was right,’ Sandalphon paused for a moment, wanting to have their full attention. ‘When that didn’t work, well, we started looking for other ways. It was impossible that God’s love hadn’t convinced them by then, so we thought maybe we hadn’t approached it the right way. That’s when we sent them to the “workshops.”’

The emphasis Sandalphon placed on the word ‘workshops’ made Aziraphale uneasy.

‘What workshops are you talking about?’ It was clear that there was still much information Aziraphale needed to gather, and they had to do it quickly before their position as Supreme Archangel was inevitably revoked.

‘Oh, you know, the workshops where each angel created by God is assigned their role.’

That made more sense. Aziraphale vaguely remembered that place. From the very first moment they became aware of their own existence, they were assigned a duty as an angel and instilled with love and devotion for God. It had always been like that, and before humanity, Aziraphale had known nothing else. That’s why Crowley’s curiosity had drawn them in so much; it made Aziraphale question everything they had known up until that point. And with the rise of humanity, that doubt only grew.

‘Sandalphon, for your own sake, I think it’s better if you shut up,’ Uriel shot a glance at the bald angel.

‘Oh please, Uriel, Aziraphale is old enough to know what happened.’

‘Go on, Sandalphon.’

‘See? Aziraphale is a big boy’

‘The workshops, Sandalphon, now.’

‘Uhhh, you’ve become quite the dominant one, haven’t you? I like it.’

‘Sandalphon…’

‘I know, I know, the workshops.’ Sandalphon looked at Aziraphale with a smile. ‘We started trying to, how do I put it, reset them, restart them.’

‘What?’

‘We thought the problem would be solved if we returned them to their “factory state,” erase all the bad stuff and start from scratch.’

Aziraphale stared in shock at Sandalphon and then at Uriel, who avoided their gaze and simply stepped aside.

‘It worked with a couple of cherubs, they were young angels, so starting from scratch wasn’t such a big setback. The problem came with the higher-ranking angels, those who had lived longer.’ A long sigh filled the air. Sandalphon almost sounded nostalgic. ‘We tried, but we didn’t know that erasing their memories would erase their very essence as angels. Many didn’t survive long enough.’

‘W-wait, that means…’

‘The number of angels decreased significantly, many due to the war, but most disappeared down here. And that was just the first attempt.’

‘Were there more?’ Aziraphale was growing more and more agitated with each word.

‘I told you we tried everything, Aziraphale.’

Sandalphon’s expression darkened, not a trace of mockery or cynicism remained. Uriel lowered her gaze, and Aziraphale sensed a story so cruel that even hell itself couldn’t bear it.