There Will Come a Day: A Good Omens Fanfic

Think about the times

Dreaming was new. Somehow, snuggled up in a bed that seemed full of articles about machines ripped out from periodicals and newspapers—Aziraphale would have to remember to heal them and return them to the reading room when Crowley wasn't looking—and a snoring demon, Aziraphale dreamed about the Almighty, and his own Creation.

"Aziraphale," She said, and suddenly Aziraphale was there, existing. As if he had always existed. "The Principality Aziraphale. My beloved child. Do you know what a Principality is created to do, Aziraphale?"

The word came easily, the first word he ever said. "Love." It was easy, with Her love holding and cradling him. And then, "Guide."

She smiled. "That's right. That's your special task as My soldier. There are new creations coming, Aziraphale. I've given you their form—with a few extras. It will be easier to walk among them if you look familiar. Love them, guide them. You have gentle hands and a gentle touch, and also—this."

The flaming sword appeared in his hands. Not gentle at all, he thought. But burningly new, held in Her love and regard, how could he question it? Guide with love towards goodness, and with sharp edges and flame away from evil. Heaven's love, Hell's punishment.

Crowley rolled over in his sleep and threw a heavy arm across his chest, waking Aziraphale, and that was both uncomfortable and pleasant. Aziraphale left it there, despite the discomfort. He might have even tilted his head just enough to kiss a shadowed cheek.

"I'm much better at the loving than the guiding," he said quietly aloud. "I never really liked that abominable sword. That's probably partly why I gave it away—I knew I could never bring myself to use it."

Did I tell you to use it, Aziraphale?

He froze. Millennia. It had been millennia. Not since he had lied to Her at the wall to Eden, knowing quite well it was impossible to deceive Her, the lie tripping off his tongue anyway, a second sin adding to his first. Of all he times it was now, with a demon's hip pressed against his own in bed, that he heard Her voice again.

"Well, n-no, not precisely... I thought it was implied. You told me to guard the apple tree, and the gate."

I told you to watch them, Aziraphale, and to guide and love. I didn't tell you where to guide them.

"Al—Almighty. About the demon Crowley. I mean the Seraph Botis. Um, him, right here. I'm sure You can recognise him without all the wings and the, er, extra eyes. Did You really make him incapable of love and then cast him out because of it? Why would You do such a thing to him?" He curled his hands protectively around the arm across his chest, and Crowley muttered something in his sleep and pressed closer. "To any of them?"

But the voice was gone, and in the morning, he decided it was just part of the dream. It had been a long time since the Almighty spoke directly to anyone, let alone a mere Principality. And She really didn't like accusing questions.

** **

They finished Villette lying by the pool. Aziraphale wasn't sure Crowley actually cared less about the story or if he was using it as an excuse to stay close and watch his mouth with that disturbingly intent stare while he read, but did it matter either way? Aziraphale had books, and he had Crowley. Unfortunately the ending made Crowley sulk silently for an hour before suddenly declaring it was time for dinner, and blatantly getting sozzled on what were supposed to be non alcoholic beverages.

Crowley, apart from the reading and the fit of sulks, was incredibly talkative, although not, to Aziraphale's surprise, about any of the subjects they were both supposed to be trying not to avoid. He talked of racing and touring tires, and the advantages of aluminium pistons over cast iron, valves per cylinder, leather finishes and patina. None of it made any sense, but Aziraphale was, if anything, patient. It was ridiculously enjoyable to promenade the deck with that familiar slinking stalk closer beside him than ever before, an excited hand clutching his arm, that thin face lit up with inner radiance and stumbling and hissing over his words in his urgency to get them out, to make Aziraphale understand.