Falling Heavenward: A Good Omens Crowley/Aziraphale Fanfic

Water in the desert

Desert of Negev, 1891 BCE

Crawly watched with interest as one bare pink toe carefully traced a line in the sand, which cracked and moved. Water welled up in the fissure.

"That's a nice trick," he said appreciatively.

Aziraphale started violently and turned toward him, hands up defensively. To Crawly's puzzlement, he immediately relaxed on seeing him, the look of guilty fear fading from his face. Interesting. "Oh, Crawly. It's just you."

"That's not very flattering after not seeing me for thirty years," said Crawly.

He was actually counting himself a bit lucky that the greeting was not more awkward. The last time they had parted ways he had given into his own temptation to comfort Aziraphale over orders not to stop the drought so he could save Kukkutarma, and he had got a bit carried away with the physical aspects of the comforting. The angel had politely and firmly told him that he had work to do looking after the dispersed Harappans, and Crawly had taken the hint and given him time to cool down. And himself. He had become quite heated in a different way, and worried about what unforgivably undemonic words would spill out under the effect of a soft warm shoulder under his lips. He was beginning to suspect that the angel was more dangerous to him than he was to the angel. Yet, here he was.

"Twenty-six years." Aziraphale straightened his robes. Crawly wondered if it had just seemed longer because he had been so bored without the angel. The water was pulsing out from the sand now, clear and, Crawly was sure, sweet. He wasn't going to risk touching it. Plants were growing up around it already, curling out green and lovely in the desert heat. Crawly backed carefully away as a rivulet came near him. "Oh, sorry, my dear, I didn't know you'd be around. Inconsiderate of me." A rocky ledge came up, directing the flow of holy water safely away from the demon. "I thought you were in Egypt."

"Speaking of which, isn't that one of the Pharaoh's daughters crying her eyes out under that bush? I'm sure I recognise her."

"Oh!" Aziraphale turned hastily away, as if he'd remembered what he was doing. "Don't worry, dear lady. This is a friend. Look, I've found some water for you and your little boy. Oh, and look at this plant with pretty pink flowers, I do believe the leaves and seeds are edible. Berries and everything. Chin up, everything's going to be just fine now."

The woman came nervously forward. She would probably have once been good looking, but misery and dehydration had stretched her face into a skull, large dark eyes standing out. Definitely familiar.

"Hi, Hagar. Haven't seen you since you were a kid. What are you doing out here in the desert all alone?"

Hagar gave him a wild look, then flung her arms around Aziraphale, sobbing. He patted her shoulder a bit desperately. "There, there. Crawly, if you don't mind—the child?"

Crawly tasted the air for signs of another human, then wandered in the direction of the scent of blood and sweat. A small child was curled up in the almost non existent shade from a spindly bush, semi conscious. Oh, bloody Heaven. There was no way the kid could walk in this condition. There was no help for it, unless he wanted to go back and tell the angel that he had failed in a perfectly simple request. The situation was far too intriguing for that.

"Up you go," he sighed, and lifted the boy in his arms.

Two sunken eyes fluttered open and fixed on his face from two inches away. "You look weird."

"You don't know the half of it." He carried the kid carefully in his arms. The boy was well grown, had probably had a fair amount of food while growing, but he was wasted with suffering now and far too light for his size.