Well, That Was A Thing (Good Omens One-Shots)

44; It's Always Too Late

Context: I was inspired to make this VERY unhappy post-S2 fic by the amazing @blairamok on twitter and their beautifully heartbreaking fanart of Crowley taking Beelzebub's place in Hell. (Steer clear if you don't like mentions and light descriptions of torture)

Aziraphale was sure Crowley was down in Hell. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. He only took Metatron's offer to keep him safe! Now he had to go Down There and save him.

Word Count: 3,300

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Aziraphale's POV:

The Mayfair flat was empty. As the (still new) archangel walked through the halls, he felt cold. Everything looked ruined. Like an abandoned building. The chill truly went down his spine when he saw what remained of Crowley's plants. Wilted beyond saving, almost completely turned to dust.

He never would've let them get this bad...

Aziraphale hadn't been gone from Earth that long. Surely, that wasn't enough time for the flat to be in the state of disrepair it was currently in! So, why was it like this? He recalled hearing other angels talking Upstairs. Something about an incident which had caused many humans in and around Mayfair to spontaneously start rebuking. Most just chalked it up to a possession from a lesser demon and moved on.

What if it hadn't been? What if whatever demonic activity which caused the rebuking, was related to Crowley? What if Hell came back for him? What if they had hurt him?

Aziraphale looked out the window, to the street and gasped. The Bentley was still there! If he knew Crowley, and he did more than anyone else, there was no way he'd still be on Earth and not take his car with him!

It must be that, then. He must be in Hell...

The angel's heart ached and tears brimmed his eyes. He was terrified.

This wasn't supposed to happen. This wasn't part of the plan!

His tears spilled and he sobbed. He backed himself into the nearest wall and slid down to the floor.

You were meant to be safe while I was gone...

He felt close to shattering. But he knew he had to steel himself. He took a deep breath to steady himself. With a shaky hand, he wiped his tears and summoned his strength. Along with his wings and his newly issued flaming sword.

I'm coming, dearest.

~~~~~

The elevator doors dinged open and dozens of demons hissed and growled before running away from the former principality as he stepped out. Hell, somehow, looked worse than it had his previous visit. Aziraphale brandished his sword and lit it with a thought. He marched further into the infernal headquarters, trying to sense Crowley's essence. No demon dared getting in his way. Finally, he reached the dark council's room.

Without hesitation, Aziraphale knocked down the door. The council members were caught off guard by this. They didn't have to speculate why he was here.

"I demand to know where you're keeping Crowley."

Suddenly, Shax and Dagon shared a look. It clearly meant something. What exactly? Aziraphale wasn't sure. Then the senior duke of Hell gestured to the door at the opposite end of the room. She grinned, her pointed teeth and scales glistening.

"You'll find him right through there." She said, before she and the rest of the dark council disappeared.

Whether it was a trap or not, he had to find out. Even if he had to fight his way in and out of the room. He just had to know. If he was alive, he had to try saving him. Even if it meant destruction.