An Ineffable History

Chapter Six: Ashes, ashes, we all fall down

London, England, 1349 CE

The air was thick and heavy with the smell of rotting corpses. It clung to one's clothes and lingered in the nose and back of the throat, as if one could taste death. It was an odor that one could not escape no matter how hard they may try. Aziraphale had tried everything. Had tried to miracle away the smell, had stopped breathing entirely for a while, but nothing worked.

He couldn't leave. Not now.

It was Pestilence's work, Aziraphale knew. He had seen the horseman in the streets some years beforehand, radiating illness and disease. He had called it one if his "better works" and for the horseman this was true; the humans hadn't known about it until people began to die off in mass numbers. They were still dying.

Heaven wouldn't let him save everyone, in fact, they were overjoyed. With fear of the plague running rampant, the humans were flocking to churches and temples and mosques like had never been seen before. Thousands upon thousands of souls begging for forgiveness and salvation. Aziraphale had gone up to heaven, in the beginning of the epidemic, and had asked if he could save them, if he could help them find a cure. Gabriel had said no, had said that it was all part of the Great Plan and that the death of many would bring the salvation of others. Aziraphale had obeyed- for a while.

But Gabriel was not down there. Gabriel had not watched as the plague killed indiscriminately, taking every man, woman, and child. Gabriel had not heard the mothers scream as their children succumbed to the plague, had not watched them cradle their child's lifeless body, knowing full well that they would be next. Gabriel had not seen the sunken faces of people who flocked to the taverns and bars to escape the pain and heartbreak through the bottom of a shot glass.

Aziraphale had been there for all of it. He had obeyed and he had listened until he could no longer. He may not have been allowed to save them, but he could give them peace and comfort in their final moments. He could put them to sleep, so they would pass on without a struggle. And, if he had to, he could move the bodies left in the streets, give the unremembered a proper burial, and hopefully lessen the spread of the disease. Aziraphale had been sent here to protect the humans, and no matter what, that was what he would do.

Aziraphale had been alone when it happened. He was walking through the (miraculously) clean backstreets to the flat he currently resided in when he heard it, the telltale cough from around the corner of a building. Aziraphale knew that cough, had heard hundreds of times before, and he knew what it meant: This one didn't have much time left. Aziraphale readied himself to go help the poor human, preparing for the worst. He did not, however, expect someone to be there already.

"Please," a child whimpered, closing his eyes and biting his lip, "it hurts." He coughed, and blood dribbled down from his lips.

"I know dear, I know," came a surprisingly tender voice from the man in front of him, "but I need you to be brave now, okay?"

Crowley was crouched down, one knee on the ground as he faced the boy, who was sitting up against a wall, head leaned back. Crowley gently cupped the boy's face in one hand and ran his thumb over the boy's forehead with the other.

"You will fall asleep," Crowley whispered, "and dream of whatever it is you like best." The boy relaxed, his shoulders slumping as he let out a deep sigh. Aziraphale watched the boy's chest rise and fall three more times before stopping with a final, hollow exhale.

Crowley closed eyes, staying still for a moment before standing up and facing Aziraphale. Aziraphale opened his mouth to speak, but Crowley cut him off.

"Don't. Don't say anything." Crowley said, his expression tense and nearly unreadable behind those glasses, before he softened. "Just- just walk with me, will you?" Aziraphale felt guilty, leaving the boy's body in the streets, but, as if Crowley had read his mind, he waved his hand and the body disappeared.