Fatherhood (Crowley×Aziraphale)

A summons and a wedding

"Aziraphale." Crowley's voice woke the angel from his sleep.

He opened his eyes, finding Crowley at the foot of the bed, but he was not alone. The archangel Gabriel stood beside him, a serious and almost disgusted expression on his face.

Aziraphale pulled his comforter up to his chin, "What on earth is going on?"

"Dress with haste, Aziraphale," Gabriel commanded, ignoring his question, "You've both been summoned."

"Summoned?" Aziraphale asked, "By whom?"

This time Crowley was the one to answer, "Them."

~~~

A short and rather tense drive later, Crowley parks the Bentley outside the home of Anathema Device. Crowley, Aziraphale, and Gabriel- who'd insisted on riding in the backseat on the way- were greeted at the door by Anathema herself, and a rather pungent smell. Crowley recognized is immediately.

"Lord Beelzebub," he called into the house, "I smell you've made an appearance."

The Prince of Hell stepped into view, the buzzing of the many flies around him audible from even this distance. Anathema, who attempted to seem unbothered by the odor invited them inside.

Aziraphale and Crowley were ushered into the kitchen, side by side across from their three opposing summoners. On the table between them various instruments of ritual were laid out, such as a knife and an oddly shaped wooden basin, making Aziraphale grow even more unsettled.

"Just what is the meaning of this?" He asks, his attempt to appear outraged betrayed by the fearful quiver in his voice, "I demand to know why we've been summoned, when we were meant to be left alone."

"If you're planning to kill us, I think you'll need more than a knife and a wooden bowl." Crowley chimed in, coolly. "I thought it was made clear last time that our deaths weren't part of the ineffable Great Plan."

Gabriel pasted a forced grin on his face, "No, you're correct. Despite your respective acts of treason, the two of you were not meant to die."

"However," Beelzebub continued, "The powers that be have further use of you. You yourself said it best, Crowley, we couldn't just leave the two of you alone forever."

The archangel and archdemon reached into their pockets, and produced nearly identical scrolls, though Beelzebub's was slightly singed around the edges. The scrolls were passed over, Crowley and Aziraphale sharing a glance before unrolling and reading each, only to swap and read the other's.

Though written by opposing forces the command remained the same: Bring forth the Nephalem.

"It has been tasked to the two of you to bring about the unification of heaven and hell." Anathema spoke finally. "Together, you will raise the firstborn of a new race."

Crowley's brow knotted above his sunglasses, "What? You mean..."

"... A child?" Aziraphale finished his thought.

Anathema nodded, and after a quick affirming glance to both Gabriel and Beelzebub, Aziraphale and Crowley began to laugh.

"You can't be serious." Crowley said, "This isn't the way that works I'm afraid, gentlemen. I'd expect after six thousand years you all had figured that out."

"As a descendant of Agnes Nutter, Miss Device is blessed by our Lord with unsurpassed ability." Gabriel said, "She is the only witch in existence who could preform this ritual."

"By future daughter mine, two bloods of men combine, the baby blessed in shades of grey, fruit from the cradle of eden." Anathema recited what Aziraphale vaguely remembered coming across in The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter.