Angel and the Demon

Chapter Eleven: Visiting The Past

Later that day, Crowley was reading out in the garden. It was the same area where Maurice tried to pick a rose for Aziraphale. He found this part of the castle nice. And it was a quiet place to read. As he read, Aziraphale walked over to him, wearing a winter cloak given to his by the staff.

"What are you reading?" Aziraphale asked Crowley

Crowley quickly closed the book, "Nothing."

But Aziraphale saw the title as he walked to sit next to him, "Guinevere and Lancelot."

"Well, actually, King Arthur and the Round Table. Knights and men and swords and things.

Aziraphale hummed, "Still... it's a romance."

"All right," Crowley admitted

Aziraphale just smiled fondly. But to discuss books was not why he was there.

"I never thanked you for saving my life," Aziraphale said looking up at him

"Well, I never thanked you for not leaving me to be eaten by wolves," Crowey said, adding to the thank yous

Aziraphale laughed at his comment, knowing they both had something to thank each other for. In the distance, the two could hear the castle staff in the kitchen, having so much fun. Crowley turned to the noise, smiling fondly at his staff having a good time. Especially in such a rough time.

"They know how to have a good time," Aziraphale commented

"Yes," Crowley agreed, "But when I enter the room, laughter dies."

Aziraphale sighed, "Me too," Crowley looked at him in curiosity, "The villagers say that I'm a funny man... but I'm not sure they mean it as a compliment."

"I'm sorry," Crowley apologised before trying to lighten the mood, "Your village sounds terrible."

Aziraphale gave a small laugh, "Almost as lonely as your castle."

Crowley then got an idea, "What do you say we run away?"

Aziraphale looked at him slightly confused. So, Crowley took his to the library. There, he took a book from a shelf that hadn't been touched in years. As he unlocked it, he explained that the book was another gift from God. A book that allowed him to escape. Crowley blew the dust off the pages before placing it on a book stand. On the pages was a map of the world with golden smoke floating around it. Crowley felt as if the book was the Gods cruelest trick of all.

To have a book that could take him anywhere in the world and not be able to go anywhere just because of his appearance. But he knew that Aziraphale could get better use out of it. Crowley put Aziraphale's hand on the book, telling him to imagine a place he had always wanted to go. As Aziraphale thought of where he wanted to go, the golden smoke started to rise as it took them to a windmill just outside of Paris. Like the others around it, the windmill wasn't in great condition. Everyone had left a long time ago.

"Where did you take us?" Crowley asked Aziraphale

"Paris," Aziraphale said, looking around the windmill

"Oh, I love Paris!" Crowley walked over to the window, "What would you like to see first? Notre Dame, The Champs-Élysées... No? Too touristy?"

"It's so much smaller than I imagined," Aziraphale continued to look around the windmill

As he looked around, Aziraphale found some old drawings left on a chair. One of them was a sketch of a baby.

'This is the Paris of his childhood. These were the borders of his life. In this crumbling, dusty attic, where an artist loved his wife. Easy to remember, harder to move on knowing the Paris of his childhood,' Aziraphale picked up a rattle in the shape of a rose and sat on the bed, 'is gone...'

Crowley suddenly realised why Aziraphale had taken them here. Judging by his words, this was once Maurice's home. But there's one detail in Aziraphale's story that Crowley was curious about.

"What happened to his wife?" Crowley asked

"It was the one story Maurice could never bring himself to tell," Aziraphale explained, "I knew better than to ask."

On a chair near him, Crowley found an old, discarded mask.

"Oh. A doctor's mask," Crowley picked it up and examined it, only to realise what kind of mask it was, "Plague."

Maurice's wife had died of the plague. A dangerous disease that had ever fallen upon Paris. As a final request, his wife told Maurice to take their child away before it could take them too. So, Maurice did just that, taking his child to the village to start anew, leaving his dear wife to succumb to her illness alone. Unfortunatly, his child would succumb to the disease also, hence why Aziraphale had become his Guardian Angel. Now realising how terrible Maurice's past was, Crowley finally spoke up, saying something he should've said a long time ago:

"I'm sorry I ever called your charge a thief," Crowley apologised, sounding genuine in his apology.

All Aziraphale could muster was, "Let's go home."

Crowlehy was surprised at Aziraphale calling the castle 'home' but he didn't argue and the two returned to the castle. Meanwhile, back in the village, Gabriel and Muriel finally arrived back. It was storming outside. Muriel had been trying her best the whole trip back to convince Gabriel to go back for Maurice to set him free. She felt bad for him and knew that what Gabriel had done was so cruel. But Gabriel had no intentions of going back. He had his plan and he was sticking with it. So, the two just entered the tavern where Muriel voiced why she was trying to convince Gabriel to help Maurice.

"It's just... every time I close my eyes, I picture Maurice stranded alone. And then when I open them, he's..."

Muriel was cut off when she saw Maurice, alive, and having some food with Pere.

"Maurice!" Muriel said, sounding happy yet shocked that the man had survived the night.

But everyone had been told of what Gabriel had done and what he tried to do. And a lot of the villagers weren't happy.

"Gabriel," the keeper spoke up, "did you try to kill Maurice?"

Gabriel decided to play dumb, "Maurice! Thank heavens! I've spent the last five days trying to find you."

"You tried to kill me," Maurice argued, "You left me to the wolves."

"Wolves? It's one thing to rave about your delusions. It's another to accuse me of attempted murder."

"Maurice..." Jean spoke up, "Do you have any proof of what you're saying?"

"Ask Agathe," Maurice pointed to Agathe who was warming up by the fire, "She rescued me."

Gabriel laughed, "Agathe! You'd hang your accusations on the testimony of a filthy hag? No offense, Agathe."

Agathe gave a quick raise of her eyebrows, showing that she took no offense. So, Maurice turned to the only other witness.

"Mademoiselle Muriel," Maurice said, looking over at her, "She was there. She saw it all."

"Me?" Muriel asked, unsure whether or not to tell the truth or stick to Gabriel.

"You're right. Don't take my word for it. Muriel..." Gabriel put his hands on Muriel's shoulders, "my dearest companion... did I, your oldest friend and most loyal compatriot, try to kill the charge of the only man I've ever known?"

"Well, it's a complicated question on a number of accounts..." Gabriel turned Muriel to him, giving a look that practically threatened her to side with him, "But no. No, he did not."

Everyone mumbled at this sudden news. The only other people who were there had both lied their way into being innocent. Angered by this, Maurice walked up to Gabriel to slap him. But Gabriel grabbed his wrist, stopping Maurice from hitting him. Gabriel twisted Maurice's hand to the side, stopping him from trying.

"Maurice... it pains me to say this, but you've become a danger to yourself and others. No wonder Aziraphale ran away. You need help, sir. A place to heal your troubled mind," Gabriel nodded to three men, becoming them over, "Everything's going to be fine. Just fine."