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

Being human - Never

Everything after that, for all concerned, played out like a fake film, the sound of which had been packed in cotton wool and the picture blurred. Shortly after Nathanael's call, an ambulance arrived and the paramedics who arrived immediately attended to Crowley.

By some miracle, Nathanael also immediately manipulated the databanks of the hospital they were taken to in order to make the story believable. She was the niece of Mister Fell, who was in a long-standing partnership with Mister Crowley and was therefore his emergency contact and was allowed to go wherever he could. The attack had been by an unknown person and had happened so quickly that they could hardly say anything.

While Muriel tried to be the support for Aziraphale, Nathaniel had no time to think about her feelings. She was assisting the medics, talking to the medical staff and using up miracle after miracle to make it all seem believable. After all, she couldn't just reveal who they were.

"You can let go, Miss Fell!"

Nathaniel blinked, noticing that they were already in one of the hospital corridors. She was taken off the IV bag that held her and Muriel gently held her back by the arm. Still in the fog, Nathaniel saw a team of doctors disappear behind a door with a wheeled stretcher.

"Sprout...without you," Aziraphale's soft stammer now brought her completely out of her trance and Nathaniel turned to face him. The ex-angel was in tears but seemed to be about to compose himself. He had his hands on her shoulders and was looking deep into her eyes. "If we didn't have you. That was madness!"

Nathaniel didn't understand what Aziraphale meant at first. "You made it all happen. Without you, we'd probably still be in the park in a panic, not knowing what to do," Muriel now explained in more detail.

"I did this...?" asked Nathanael nonetheless in wonder, panting briefly as Aziraphale hugged her and held her close. As Nathaniel went to put her arms around him too, she noticed her hands were stained with dried red liquid.

"Yes you did!" affirmed Muriel in a firm voice, wanting to use a miracle to cleanse Nathaniel's hands, but she waved it off. "It's alright, I'll go wash it off. I've probably caused enough of a stir already.", she waved it off and slowly detached herself from Aziraphale.

"Are you alright?", Aziraphale now asked worriedly and Nathaniel nodded with a put on smile.

"Yes...yes all right. I'll just go and wash this off. Are you staying here?"

"Anyway, the doctors said to wait here," Muriel replied. "Alright, I'll be right back."

Nathanael broke away from the group and followed the signs pointing to a toilet. She entered the room and hurriedly ran to one of the sinks where she turned on the tap and ran fiery hot water over her hands so she could clean them.

So she could clean her hands of Crowley's blood.

"Shit...shit...shit...SHIT!", Nathanael's shout echoed through the room and she slammed the flat of her hand against the wall, which was mirrored.

"Are you starting to come to your senses?"

Nathanael's head shot up and staring back at her in the mirror was a shimmering bluish image of Metatron. Although Nathanael knew exactly what this was, she turned her head briefly to check and when she saw that there was nothing behind her, she looked back into the mirror and glared at Metatron.

"You're going too far," she hissed spitefully and her anger increased even more when she noticed that Metatron didn't let himself get carried away with any emotion. "You really think I had something to do with this?"

At Metatron's question, Nathaniel laughed scornfully. "Who else would? I don't know exactly what happened yet, but somehow you have your fingers in the pie there!"

"So, judging from your tone, you haven't come to your senses," Metatron sighed, "Son..."

"...Don't you dare!" threatened Nathanael and Metatron rolled his eyes briefly. "Nathanael. It's a pointless endeavour, don't you realise? The two of them are nothing but a danger! How many times do I have to admonish you?"

"Until I find a way to free Crowley and Aziraphale from the clutches of you and your little following! I don't know how you did it yet, but I do know this: without the permission of the entire Council, you cannot use the Book of Life. Because if you were to use it that way, you would truly have lost all respect from me!"

"Watch your tongue!"

Nathanael replied nothing.

"Can't I make you understand, then, that you belong to us?"

"Not like that, at any rate," Nathanael answered curtly; "you only strengthen my own opinion."

"Then there is nothing more for us to discuss..." Metatron's image disappeared into the mirror and where it had been a moment ago, Nathanael struck with such force that her fist burst the mirror. At first it was a long crack, which then burst, shattering the glass into a thousand pieces.

After taking a few breaths, Nathaniel miraculously repaired the mirror and dried her still damp hands with one of the paper towels. Although tears ran down her cheeks, anger trumped fear and sadness. If the situation had allowed it, Nathanael would have gone straight to heaven and personally led Metatron to the scaffold.

However, she knew this was not possible and the time had not come. Not yet.

With more paper tissues she wiped the tears from her face and then stuffed the used utensils into the wastepaper basket. Nathanael took a deep breath, gave himself a few pats on the cheek and then went back out to the group.

"You've been gone a long time," Muriel greeted her in surprise, who along with Aziraphale had sat down on the waiting bench.

"Blood doesn't wash off so well, I'm afraid," Nathaniel smiled sadly and now also took a seat next to Aziraphale.

"How long do we have to wait now?" he whispered and Nathaniel sighed. "I'm afraid I can't tell you. I have brought myself up to date with the human procedures concerning such a case, but I hardly know modern medicine. But one thing is certain' in the time I lived as a human back then, you wouldn't have survived it..."

At Nathanael's reply, Aziraphale had to swallow for a moment. "What exactly happened, Aziraphale? Who attacked you?"

Stuttering and always on the verge of tears, the addressed told exactly what had happened. While Muriel's jaw dropped, Nathaniel shook his head over and over again.

"But...surely that doesn't make sense? Why would a demon of the underworld..."

"...it's a higher demon, don't forget," Nathanael reminded Muriel and continued, "...what concerns me more is HOW did he know? And why was he so well prepared? After all, Crowley himself said that the blade had been forged in hellfire. So Hastur had thought it all out. Not only was he informed that Aziraphale and Crowley were now human, but that they had angelic companionship!"

Angrily, Nathaniel clapped the flat of his hands on his thighs, stood up and leaned against the opposite wall with his arms folded.

"You don't think...Nathanael...that would be insane," Muriel stammered, still shocked, and Aziraphale buried his face in his hands as he shook his head.

"...And how I believe that!" replied Nathanael, growling.