'Til We Meet Again - Crowley x Reader

Chapter 21

"Eleven Years Ago" (circa 2008)

The imposing façade of St. Beryl's Convent stood before Crowley and Y/N, the edifice looming over them as they parked the Bentley at the entrance. The journey to this peculiar satanic church of nuns, which also operated as a birthing hospital, had been filled with tension and contemplation.

As the car's engine ceased its rumbling, Crowley stepped out, his sharp-dressed form contrasting with the solemnity of the convent's surroundings. Y/N followed suit, carrying the basket that held the infant Antichrist, swaddled and seemingly peaceful.

Crowley, ever the brash demon, took the lead, striding confidently towards the entrance. He paid little heed to the peculiar atmosphere of the place, though the eerie silence and sense of foreboding weighed heavily on him.

They hadn't gone far before they encountered a man in a suit, standing in the dimly lit corridor. In the subdued light, Crowley momentarily mistook the man for Mr. Dowling, the American Ambassador, who would soon be the father of the Antichrist.

Crowley's brows furrowed as he approached the man, curiosity mixing with a hint of frustration. "Has it started yet?" he asked, his tone not concealing his annoyance.

The man, who was, in fact, Mr. Young, looked taken aback but quickly composed himself. "They made me go out." he replied.

"Any idea how long we've got?"

"I think we were, er, getting on with it, Doctor."

"Got it. Which room is she in?"

Mr Young nervously gestured down the hallway. "We're in Room 3."

Crowley nodded curtly and continued on his way, with Y/N and the precious cargo in tow.

Inside the walls of the convent, Crowley and Y/N found themselves in the dimly lit corridor, the echoes of their footsteps reverberating through the hallowed halls. The weight of their mission hung heavy in the air as they made their way deeper into the building.

As they turned a corner, they bumped into Sister Mary Loquacious, who had a perpetual look of confusion etched on her face. She regarded them with her kind, yet probing eyes and wasted no time in getting to the point. "Do you have the child?" she asked, her voice as soft as a whisper.

Y/N nodded and held up the basket, placing it carefully on a nearby table. Sister Mary Loquacious approached the basket with a sense of reverence, her fingers gently parting the fabric to reveal the baby Antichrist nestled within. Her eyes widened, and a soft coo escaped her lips as she gazed upon the innocent child.

Sister Mary Loquacious cooed softly, her eyes still fixed on the baby, "I expected him to have funny eyes. Or teensy-weensy little hoofikins. Or a widdle tail."

"It's definitely him." Crowley stated less than enthusiastically.

"Do you look like your daddy? I bet you do. I bet you look like your daddywaddykins...." the nun babbled, her voice sickly sweet.

Crowley, however, was less sentimental and cleared his throat to draw her attention. "He doesn't." he stated.

"Sister Mary," his voice dripped with urgency, "We don't have much time. Here are the instructions." He handed her a folded piece of parchment.

Sister Mary Loquacious took the parchment, her gaze still fixed on the baby, who seemed utterly untroubled by the impending events. Stepping away from the basket, she quickly scanned the contents of the note and nodded. "Very well, Mr Crowley. We shall proceed as instructed."

Crowley followed her across the room as they began to discuss the plan.

While they were engrossed in conversation, Y/N couldn't help but steal another glance at the baby Antichrist. The infant's eyes, an innocent shade of blue, met Y/N's own. In that fleeting moment, a strange connection passed between them, as if the child's gaze held secrets of a life not yet lived.

Without thinking, Y/N extended a finger toward the baby, and to her surprise, the baby reached out and grasped it with his tiny hand. In that touch, Y/N felt a strange sensation, a flash of memories, a glimpse of a destiny intertwined with the child's.

A sudden, vivid flashback seized Y/N's mind.

.......

Y/N's gaze was fixed on a divine figure, an entity of warmth and benevolence, bathed in a celestial glow.

She smiled up at God, who emanated a sense of boundless love and approval. A wave of warmth washed over her as God spoke, "I am so proud of you."

Beside God stood an angel, a figure with golden hair and piercing blue eyes. His smile was wicked and seductive, and though Y/N strained to recall his name, it remained just out of reach. He was tantalizingly familiar, like a long-lost memory.

The scene shifted, and Y/N found herself immersed in a chaotic setting. A battlefield of angels, majestic and terrible, clashed with celestial fury. She watched in mute fascination as angels were felled in the throes of a cosmic conflict.

And then she saw him, the blonde-haired angel with the wicked smile led the charge against the heavenly host. Recognition dawned upon Y/N, and she whispered the name she had been seeking, "Lucifer."

Her eyes locked onto the young angel who fought next to him with a forlorn expression. It was Crowley, his gaze meeting hers briefly with a sadness that tugged at her heart. There was a story hidden within his eyes, one of rebellion and transformation.

The scene shifted once more, and Y/N found herself standing at the gate of Heaven itself. Beside her, God stood in all Her glory, a solemn judgment etched upon Her divine visage. Before them knelt the angels who had rebelled, their leader, Lucifer, at the forefront, and beside him, Crowley, a shadow of his former self.

The decree was pronounced, and God's voice echoed through the heavens as She cast them out, banished from the celestial realm, their glorious wings tarnished by rebellion. Y/N watched the disgraced angels hurtled into a freefall to oblivion.

But the memory didn't stop there. It propelled her forward through the annals of time, far beyond the celestial skirmishes. As she stood before the throne of Heaven, God's expression shifted, and her once-welcoming countenance now bore an air of sorrow.

With a heavy heart, Y/N realized the painful truth. She was being cast out of Heaven.

The ground slipped away beneath her, and she plummeted through the endless expanse, her descent mirroring that of the angels she had once watched in the throes of rebellion. As Heaven receded above her, Y/N was left to fall, her mind awash with fragmented memories and the realization that she, too, had been cast from the celestial realm.

.......

The memory was fleeting but profound, and it left Y/N feeling as though she had glimpsed a hidden part of her own past.

Shaken from the reverie by the voices of Crowley and Sister Mary Loquacious, Y/N blinked and returned to the present. The baby released her finger, leaving Y/N with a sense of both longing and confusion.

Crowley and the nun approached the table, ready to complete the exchange. Sister Mary Loquacious gently lifted the baby Antichrist from the basket, cradling him with a tenderness that belied the sinister implications of their mission.

As the baby was carried away, Y/N watched, her thoughts a tumultuous mix of emotions and unanswered questions. The path they were on had taken a sharp turn, and they couldn't help but wonder what lay ahead, both for themselves and for the innocent child who had just touched her heart in a way they could never have anticipated.