Fallen ~•A Good Omens Fanfiction •~

Chapter 16: Sweet times before the flames

Chapter 16: Sweet times before the flames
Almighty's narration

  Dear Aziraphale,

  I’ve never properly thanked you for the holy water you gave me. I know you wouldn't want that anyways. However, I’ll do it today, cause Hell is starting to get a bit suspicious about me. We never know, those days, I might have to use it more wisely. It could save my life.

  It's not really great to tell you this in the middle of the dinner, so I thought it’d be better to do that. Never been good with words, me, so if it's bad don't blame me too much, you know I don’t have your talent.

  We’ve been friends for, like, 6 000 years, and I know it’d have been selfish to leave you. I’m sorry the thought even crossed my mind. Thank you for being here.

  I hate writing letters, I never know what to put in. Anyways, see you tomorrow.

Yours forever, or whatever they say now,

Crowley

***

  Crowley had always said he was bad at writing. Aziraphale didn't agree with him. He wasn’t bad, he just had his own writing style, and he liked it. More precisely, he liked the way it was only Crowley's style, and not anyone else’s. The fact that it was not so elaborate didn't bother him. Aziraphale had read enough books to know that at some point, “too elaborate” can get really annoying.
  He was touched that the demon had taken the time to write him a letter, getting out of his comfort zone – he could write letters, he just really didn't like it – so that he could enjoy the moment the best. Crowley knew the subject would upset him, so he never talked about it, and to Aziraphale, he had found the best way to tell him how he felt about it.
  Maybe the next day would be the right moment to talk about that thing, they would see once they’re there.
  What Aziraphale didn't think of is that they would have some way more important subject to talk about. Because at the moment he was reading the letter, a certain demon was getting into his car to join a cemetery, in the middle of the night, where two others of his kind awaited.
  Apocalypse was on its way.

***

  ‘Warlock, you shouldn't be outside!’
  The little boy didn't listen to his nanny’s order and kept on running in the garden, laughing. The gardener caught him and picked him up, refusing to let him go until the nanny was there.
  ‘You are having some trouble with the child, I see,’ Aziraphale observed.
  ‘Well seen,’ confirmed Crowley. ‘I wouldn't say no to some help here.’
  It hadn't been long since they had decided to be part of the Antichrist’s life, and Aziraphale was still amazed by Crowley's new appearance. It wasn’t new to him, as Crowley had already been a woman back in time, but as every time he saw his friend like this, he couldn't help but see how beautiful she was. It was like this each time he/she swapped gender, actually. It’s like Aziraphale rediscovered Crowley each time.
  Crowley had decided to change her name – Anthony J. Crowley wasn’t very effeminate. She now was known as Nanny Ashtoreth, though “nanny” wasn't her real name, but nobody knew it – not even herself. Only Aziraphale kept on calling her Crowley when they were both alone. Aziraphale, on the other hand, knowing he couldn't keep his real identity – there aren’t many white haired men called Mr Fell in England – called himself Brother Francis. And again, only Crowley called him by his real name when nobody could hear them.
  The two never got to raise a child before. And if they needed to be frank, it was as annoying as delightful. The little boy called Warlock was officially under Nanny Ashtoreth’s responsibility, but they both watched after him. It was no option he became as bad as the Antichrist needed to be, they wouldn't let that happen. But for now, they could just enjoy living with a cheerful and innocent five years old child.
  Would that be it, a family life?

***

  ‘Nanny, look!’ Exclaimed Warlock.
  ‘I’m watching, my darling boy!’ she answered.
  ‘I’m a snake! Hisssssss!’
  She smiled truthfully and approached him. She sat next to him and Aziraphale, who was also there, trimming the rose bushes as he watched the kid playing.
  ‘You know, snakes actually don’t make that noise,’ said Crowley in a soft voice. ‘It’s more like…’
  She let out a hissing so realistic that Warlock jumped into Aziraphale’s lap.
  ‘Be careful, young boy! I could’ve hurt you!’
  She laughed at the sight of an astonished Warlock on an angry Aziraphale's lap. It truly was a moment she wouldn't forget. She couldn't think of any other way to say it, they were just so cute together like this…
  ‘Please, I’ll take you to bed now,’ she said, still smiling.
  On the way back, Warlock asked timidly:
  ‘I know I'm too old for this but… Will you sing me a lullaby? Like the old one, it was weird but I liked it…’
  ‘Of course. You’re never too old for anything you want.’
  He slipped his hand into his nanny's and smiled.

***

  But unfortunately, all good times shall at once come to an end. Aziraphale and Crowley knew it couldn't last forever, and that one day, Warlock wouldn't need a nanny anymore, nor come to the garden. This day came too fast for them. The child didn't know his parents had decided he didn't need Nanny Ashtoreth, and learned about it from Brother Francis.
  ‘But… They can’t do that! I need her!’
  ‘They don’t think so, young boy,’ sighed Aziraphale. ‘You’ve had her until your 8th birthday*, which is a lot already. I was considering retiring.’
  The boy looked shocked. Tears started to fill his eyes.
  ‘So you’re abandoning me too?’
  ‘We’re not abandoning you, Warlock,’ he corrected. ‘We’ll meet again, I promise you. Your nanny should be about to leave, go and see her, okay?’
  He was already gone.
  When he saw his Nanny in front of the door, waiting for him, he ran to her and, for the first time in a long, long time, hugged her. She was surprised, but hugged him back with a sad smile.
  ‘I don’t want you to go,’ he mumbled.
  ‘I know, darling,’ she murmured. ‘I promise we’ll see each other again, soon enough.’
  ‘What is soon enough?’
  There was no answer to this question. Deep down, she hoped she wouldn't have to see him, three years later, she hoped he wasn't the real Antichrist.
  ‘Goodbye, Warlock.’
  ‘Bye, Nanny…’

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Currently reading the book and I noticed I'm wrong with the timeline: it's his 6th birthday, not the 8th, sorry