𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐍, ineffable husbands

eternity with you

It was almost painful, yet blissful to walk through the blinding door and find where everybody else spent their time. The forest was gone, the cottage was gone, and all of the remnants of the last ten years were gone. In its place stood two angels: one pure and one covered in filth.

Crowley's ears rang with bittersweet success as Aziraphale started to bounce up and down, excitedly grabbing his arm and pulling him from place to place. It was strange how they got here, and he was right: this was entirely like a sort of endless mansion with varying shades of white and no furnishings. It appeared they came from a closet of sorts.

Along the way to some path, one of them knew, they paused. Aziraphale peered at him curiously, asking what had gotten into him. Crowley couldn't hear him, of course; his mind was too busy acting numb.

His back had a new weight of wings upon it and his new halo felt like a migraine. Despite his new form, he felt light; he felt as if he could fly away if someone so much as breathed on him. His eyes remained wide and his brain remained shocked, as if preventing him from realizing what had happened: he had been forgiven. It had hurt, but he had been forgiven.

"I made it," he managed to breathe out, looking his love in the eyes. "I made it, and I'm an angel." A solemn tear fell down his cheek. It stung.

Then he was being hugged by awkward arms unaccustomed to the new wings. Of course, he held back but one reoccurring thought swarmed through his brain: "Why am I not happy about this?"

"I did everything right. I finished the program and I fell in love. I loved, and I hurt, and I forgave and I was forgiven, but why am I not happy? Did I fail?" They spent seconds upon minutes evoked in the hug, neither wanting to part. They made it.

When Aziraphale finally broke off, his eyes were shining with pride and he looked like the happiest being in the world. Crowley figured he could ignore himself for right now.

"Come, I need to show you all my friends!"

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The endlessly white day was spent running around endless rooms where Aziraphale's friends tended to stay and chat. Crowley met many odd and curious angels, as well as some more monotone and laid back. The most interesting person he met was someone who went by the name Muriel, who seemed to instantly notice their deep bond of love. He made a mental note to get back and talk with him some more.

It wasn't until the end of the day when he met this infamous Gabriel character, as well as his friends Michael and Uriel. Upon meeting the fellow flawed for the first time, their eyes locked and spoke a truth only they could understand; it was a truth full of misery and well deserved pain.

They introduced each other and noted their past, eventually separating their conversations from the others. Gabriel looked at him with the truth present in his eyes again, leading him to a separate corner. It was abandoned enough; there didn't seem to be privacy in heaven.

Right. Heaven. He was in heaven. Both leaning against the wall, they let themselves be taken by the silence shared between the damned. It was heavy and thick and neither wanted to speak, fearing the choking sensation they'd have to feel opening their throats.

"So you fucked up too?" Gabriel smiled a sad thought as he looked up into Crowley's eyes.

"yes. I messed up too." The silence welcomed them in waves, each stronger than the last. Faint communication roared past their ears, and as he looked up, he saw Aziraphale staring at him with a twinge of fear in his eyes. He didn't return to them just yet.

"You're the second redeemed, you know that, right?" He snapped back to attention. "I was the first. That was centuries ago."

Nodding, he chose how to reply exceedingly carefully. "I suppose that makes sense. People keep staring at me." It wasn't untrue, but there was every possibility he was making it up. He was always making things up.

"It gets hard," Gabriel  continued, "being one of us." Silence. "Some days I wonder if I chose the right option."

"I don't know if I did either." He let go of a breath that lasted centuries. "Why was redemption so horrible? Why would you relive your entire memories if all they brought was pain?" His form threatened to rebel in on itself, wanting to curl up. "Why am I not happy?"

"What you relived wasn't your life. And what He made you remember after your 'game' wasn't your life either. You were lied to the entire time." It was shocking, but it was expected. "You never remember what truly happened. It never comes back."

They looked into each other's eyes. Gabriel's was the nicest of purple, so much more refined and detailed than his.

"It was all fake? My misery was faked?" He nodded, looking away. "Then... then why? Why make us go through such horrible memories if they were fake? Does anybody remember anything?"

"Some things aren't fake," he started. "If it's not horrible, it's probably true. But you murdering Aziraphale never happened. They told him you'd 'remember' doing that, but it never happened. You didn't even know him in your past life. He was dead before you were born." Angels stared at them and looked away alike, but they could care less. Both lacking their ability to let pride rest, they started wiping their eyes and retaining their conversation.

Crowley barely whispered, "Why?"

"To teach us a lesson," Gabriel replied. "To teach us a horrible, horrible lesson you'll never remember and wish to forget. You'll never remember who you really killed so you won't do it again. It's fucked up and it doesn't work. It makes me want to kill again."

He looked at the ground. His torn shoes were replaced with pure white sandals. "I thought I did everything right." Gabriel looked at him again, tears seeming to threaten to flood. "You did. And I did too."

"Is this the end? Is this it?"

Aziraphale approached them. They paused. Crowley recalled how lovely and amazing his angel had been to him through all steps of redemption and the welcome of heaven; he recalled most of all how proud he had been of him, how he was proud of the delicacy he had made. He remembered how horrible he had been the first year compared to how he was now, and he remembered the first time he realized he was in love.

"If this is it, then at least I have Aziraphale."