The Known/Unknown Quantity

Chapter 119: To Be a Bother

Chapter 119: To Be a Bother

Newt was beginning to wonder if the angel held any intention of being a passenger in good ol' Dick. Perhaps joyriding with the demon had cured him of the purposeful use of motor vehicles. But from what Newt had glibbed, that couldn't be right either. Aziraphale had no qualms with public transit, or cabs, or little scooters. Maybe he didn't trust loud shuttering old cars, and the people who drove them. Or something else....

"It was a motor bike."

"I beg your pardon?"

"A Norton Big Four 633 with a side car."

The angel was looking up at the sky dome, standing in the center of the bookshop watching the play of clouds and light as they traveled, well, however the building traveled. Newt had no sooner closed the door when the shift began. He remained there and listened, perplexed, while the angel answered a question he never voiced.

"There was a time, long ago, when I and Crowley ended up on the front lines of the War," he said softly," and we weren't tooling around the countryside on a tandem bike. We were rampaging through enemy lines in at 30mph with me in a side car. Your ridiculous three-wheeler reminds me of that time. Troublesome." A pause. "Bittersweet."

"How...? Are you speaking of WWII?"

The angel shook his head dismissively, "it's of no consequence. We ran into each other more often than not during those years, in so many guises." The angel tilted his head and raised his brow. "Odd, really." He looked up again. "But maybe not. I saw so much of him during the Great Plague, and the height of the Aztec Empire." He closed his eyes. "The aftermath of the Great Flood." Now he finally turned to Newt and recognized his presence. "The peak of the AIDS epidemic."

Newt pulled the strap of the satchel over his head and placed it on a table, then slightly spellbound, approached the angel. Aziraphale let his hands fall to his sides, and continued as the young man entered the circle of light cast by the dome:

"You see, we are used to seeing Death as he truly is. We have seen him so many times."

"You both?"

"It was never planned that way," Aziraphale explained. "It wasn't an ordinance we followed. We just....both....tended to drift toward humans in their final hours. I'm not really sure why."

"To see them off?"

The angel cocked his head again and thought. "No, Death was there for that." He thought harder. "I think we just wanted to make sure they weren't alone. Maybe we were hoping they'd go to a good place."

"Did they?"

"Some," the angel sighed, and rubbed his head. "Some went nowhere, which is fine too. Rest is rest." Once more he regarded the sunlight from above. "You would be amazed, my dear boy, how few humans there really are in Hell. And you never want to meet the ones that go."

"Aziraphale...." Newt began to stammer, but he held his hand up and cleared his throat. "W-what's going to happen to the two of you? I-I'm not saying Crowley is going to die, or anything," he laughed weakly, and pulled back as the angel glared at him. "I-I meant....if one day...you....both....or one of you...."

"I have no earthly idea," the angel pecked at the air. "But whatever happens will ultimately be the will of the Almighty."

"And you're...alright with that?"

"I, and my demon, have a choice in how we live this life," the angel explained. "Not in how we leave it. That, I allot to the hands of God. What else can I really do?"

"You're fighting for Crowley's life right now," Newt balked. The angel nodded emphatically.

"We're still alive, him and I. What happens afterwards I have no control over. But so long as he remains on this plane, I will rip out my very wings to keep him whole."

Newt gaped at him. The angel merely returned a sad smile, and fought back tears that might take him over the edge if he dared give them release.

"Newt, the light has stilled, now."

"We're in Yorkshire."

"Right you are."

Newt didn't know what to do next. The revelation....how do you comfort a being who once sang before the throne of the Creator?

And has not heard Her voice often afterwards?

So, he awkwardly brought his hand up, hovered it over Aziraphale's shoulder, then patted it a couple of times. On the second landing, the angel covered it with his own, and beamed at the young man, his eyes misty.

"Come on," he declared. "Let's go bother a busy physician on her holiday!"

Newt had to race to keep up as the angel leapt into bewildering action. "You realize she's going to be ticked off as all get out, a couple of strangers blundering into her home and blasting her with questions."

The angel flung the door open and handed the satchel to Newt as he passed. His face was nearly manic. "Call it more of Crowley rubbing off on me. I can't wait to stir up a bit of trouble."