Thousands of Years

Forever

Heart beats fast.
Colors and promises.
An angel stood in terror amongst his people as he watched his Lord, the Almighty, bring her wrath down upon the large group he stood within.
The ground upon which he stood began to crack and darken, the beautiful white of the floor turning a deep and despicable black. All of the angels surrounding him tried to move, to run, to fly, but their efforts were for naught. The angel felt true fear in his heart as his appearance began to change. His clean, white wings, the pride of all angels, changed in the same way the floor had, until every last angel in his group possessed wings black as coal.
"For breaking your promises to me, your Lord, I punish every last one of you to the depths of Hell. No longer are you angels, but Fallen. Begone foul demons."
The cracked ground shook upon the Almighty's last words and caved in, dropping the Fallen into their new home.
A white-haired angel stood frozen in shock as his peers fell from Heaven, terrified faces flashing through his mind as a shock of brilliant, red hair engraved itself upon his memory.

How to be brave.
The angel looked down upon a man and woman in uncertainty, his mind whirling with doubts and worries.
"I do hope I didn't do the wrong thing."
A red-haired demon frowned in response, his black wings swishing lightly upon the ground where he stood as his snake-like eyes tracked the man swinging a sword that burned like a torch.
"You're an angel. I don't think you can do the wrong thing."
The angel turned to his new companion with a smile, recognition lighting up his eyes even as he sighed. "Oh, thank you. It had really been bothering me."

How can I love when I'm afraid to fall?
Looking at the demon who walked beside him marveling at all the amazing plants they were surrounded with, a portly angel frowned at the light feeling that seemed to be stuck in his chest. The demon, Crowley, who so often tried to feign aloofness and disinterest, was endearing when enraptured in the beauty only he could find in a wild rain forest while being poked and prodded by angry Amazons. But how could Aziraphale, an angel, possibly feel anything but hatred for one of the Fallen? They were sworn enemies. He could not- would not- go against his Lord.

But watching you stand alone, all of my doubt suddenly goes away somehow.
Crowley smirked as he walked upon the battlefield, tasting the hatred and malice in the air. He hadn't started this war, but the Evil Council would receive a memo stating that he did regardless.
Coming upon the main Spartan prison, Crowley noted that the guards were rounding up prisoners for execution. The demon decided to watch, as he joined the crowd of soldiers coming out of a tent from the break of their fast.
Crowley felt his smirk fall as, upon the dais where all punishments were dealt, a being he knew well stood up from the mass of moaning and crying prisoners. Hissing in displeasure, the demon pushed his way to the front of the crowd, so he could stand just beneath where the angel argued with a guard.
"Kind sir, surely you do not have to kill all of these poor people? You know as well as I that they had no intentions of harming your people when they stumbled upon all of you."
The guard did not move a muscle as he stared out at the mass of Spartans waiting for blood.
"Stop speaking, runt."
Aziraphale balked lightly at the insult before looking down at all of the injured prisoners. The angel still did not spot the demon, and Crowley hissed louder in annoyance, but could not intervene before his stupid companion opened his mouth again.
"But sir, you cannot mean to sentence so many innocent people to death?"
The guard merely flicked his gaze towards the angel before returning it to his men.
"I shall, for we have no use for weaklings such as you. My Kings command it."
Aziraphale's worried face set into grim lines as he came to a decision. Crowley did not like the look of where this was going.
"Well, what if I showed you that I am not weak at all, but stronger than you? Will you let us all go?"
The executioner glanced over at the angel once more before scoffing, turning his gaze back out to watch his people before replying.
"As there is no possibility for you to beat me in a duel, I accept your challenge. There may be a chance of avoiding your deaths shall you actually manage to force me to yield."
The guard turned away from the smiling male and banged his axe upon his chest plate to gain the attention and silence of his people.
"Spartans! This man has offered me to a duel before his final breath, and I have accepted. If I win, this man will die by my sword, but shall I lose, the prisoners will not be dealt with death. Let us move to the ring!"
At the sight of his companion, a being the complete opposite of a demon, standing tall in front of bloodthirsty soldiers in defense of a group of humans and facing down death, be it paperwork or discorporation, Crowley felt a flame completely different from hellfire ignite within his stone cold heart.