Everyday it's a-gettin' closer - English Version

The Return - Aziraphale - A Realisation

Aziraphale stood in the middle of the bookshop and took a deep breath. His heart was heavier than the guilt he carried. He had fervently hoped that Crowley would be standing here somewhere, waiting for him. Although he knew this was a deluded thought, the disappointment was great. The spark of hope that had propelled him had been extinguished faster than a candle in a vat of water.

He was faced with the consequences of his own actions. A veritable pile of broken pieces that he did not know how he could ever clean up.

"What have I done?" he whispered softly to himself, tangling his fair mop of hair, "How could I have been so stupid?"

The realisation had hit him harder than anything before in his endless life. Awakened from a frenzy of pleasure and false influences, he had found himself in heaven. He had become a tool in a power struggle of the highest order. All that he had hoped for had never been attainable.

He had sat at his desk on the top floor when the effect had worn off and rational thought had set in again. Like a person struck by lightning, he had stared wide-eyed at the coffee he had received from Metatron.

He had always known it - he should have stuck to tea! Then none of this would have happened at all.

After the initial shock, the last event with Crowley caught up with him. Immediately he had felt his lips against his again and his eyes had grown dim. Hastily, he had disappeared from his workplace and made his way back to earth.

Where he now stood; lonely and deserted in his far too large bookshop. The dust swirled wildly in the rays of the evening sun and once again Aziraphale had a haze before his eyes. "I'm not on any side anymore..." he had to admit to himself and took a deep breath, which was however interrupted by his sobbing, "...I'm so naïve...He was right...he was just right about everything!"

His thoughts, his heart, his grief - all of it was for Crowley and the lost opportunity. Alienated, he had said things to his favourite demon that he would never have said out loud.

"As if someone so gullible could direct events," he smiled sadly, wiping away tears. From one moment to the next, he was faced with nothing and had no idea how to make up for all this. Because the person who could have helped him was the person it was all about this time.

"Ah, there you are! Metatron had been wondering where you were!"

Snapped out of his trance, Aziraphale shot up and turned around. Standing in the entrance hallway looking at him was a young, dapper angel of male gender. Immediately Aziraphale's organs contracted, for he knew this was not just any angel. That arrogant and deprecating posture, the stern look and raised chin, as well as the seven golden stripes on the collar of the suit clearly showed whose department his counterpart belonged to.

"Elion...", Aziraphale whispered reverently, recognising the court angel immediately. The latter nodded briefly.

"What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here?" it unintentionally burst out of Aziraphale, but instead of collecting himself again, this time he let his emotions run wild. With the new realisation in mind, he no longer bothered to focus on his demeanour.

"I'm taking back what's mine! I've seen through Metatron's little game!" Elion sighed. With a shake of his head, he folded his arms.

"Metatron feared this would happen. Aziraphale, your...'partnership' with this demon is against all the rules. Instead of punishing you, you were even given a great gift! You should really be grateful to him!"

"Gift? Grateful?!", Aziraphale laughed falsely, "I have been manipulated and done things that go against my nature. I have said things that I would never put in my mouth. What, please, is a gift about that? That is not the way we should act. Be it with humans, with demons, or even among ourselves! It's cruel!"

Even annoyed, Elion massaged his temple and within the blink of an eye, more angels appeared beside him.

"We can forget all about this," he then began quietly, "You know as well as I do that another Armageddon will soon be upon us and we really have better things to do. We can't focus on such trivialities. So, I ask you politely one last time: come home with me."

At first overwhelmed by the whole situation, Aziraphale couldn't manage a decent word. He tried again and again to form a sentence, but nothing more than an uncomprehending stammer left his lips.

But then he came to his senses. Although he was close to tears again, the strength in his heart began to grow.

Under no circumstances did he want to give himself the nerve to return like a lapdog, tail between his legs. For the place, the goal - that he had always aspired to, had been an illusion. An illusion built of lies, manipulation and imperiousness. As long as the main people in charge there still had the last word, there was nothing he could do. At least not alone and not on the spot. That had just become clear to him.

For this reason, he summoned up all his courage, suppressed any inner resistance that had been implanted in him and took another deep breath.

"I'm home!"

"Simply incorrigible..." groaned Elion this time, visibly annoyed, "very well. You heard him," he now addressed his companions, "you know where to take him. And as requested by Metatron, not a word. This remains an internal matter. The authorities already have their hands full!"

Before Aziraphale could help himself, his arms had been grabbed and he was surrounded by the crowd. They pinned his arms behind his back in such a way that his shoulder almost dislocated and one of the hands, had tangled in his mop of hair, forcing him to maintain eye contact with the court angel. Calmly, Elion then strode towards him.

"I will let Metatron know personally. Meanwhile, please get the room ready. I am counting on everyone's silence!" he first said to the other angels before finally addressing Aziraphale again.

"I am already more than sorry for what will happen now, my dear friend, but it is really for your own good! I hope you will then understand that we do everything in good will!"

Aziraphale snorted. Again and again he tried to break free, but his bonds were too strong.

"Go to hell!" hissed Aziraphale in an unfamiliar, sombre, deep voice and his usually clear blue eyes sparkled spitefully.

Just as grim, Elion returned Aziraphale's gaze and looked at his followers. "Take him away!" he ordered and Aziraphale was blinded by a glare.