Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Darkness had covered the land for three days and showed no sign of letting up anytime soon. It was Egypt, time of the Great Pharaoh Ramses, 13th century BCE. Crowley had always hated Egypt. It was hot and there always seemed to be sand caught between his toes. He didn’t want to be here, but the head office had sent him, so here he was. 

It wasn’t all bad. Aziraphale had been stationed here too. Granted, it had been quite some time since Crowley had interacted with the angel. Thinking back, it had probably been a good thirty or forty years. When had that Moses kid been born anyway? Crowley had been tasked by his head office to divert the baby’s basket as it floated down the river. Somewhere where the baby would never be found. 

The official story had been that Aziraphale had been there to thwart him. That angel had been on earth as long as Crowley had and always seemed to show up at the exact right time - or rather, wrong time - to thwart whatever scheme it was that the demon had going on. There had simply been nothing Crowley could do. Aziraphale had bested him once again.

If he was telling the truth, which the demon most definitely never did, Crowley hadn't really tried that hard to lose the kid. He had done a lot of terrible things in his past, but killing kids was not really his thing. 

Even if he hadn't seen the angel in a while, Crowley could always sense his presence. He had no idea if it was because they'd known each other for so long or if the demon had the ability to sense any angel here on Earth. The rest of the heavenly host rarely made an appearance, so he had no way to find out.

All of that changed three days ago. Crowley had been sitting in his house on the western side of the city completely bored out of his mind. Normally, he had the habit of spending his days out and about, trying to surreptitiously vex people with minor annoyances and inconveniences. Ever since that Moses guy returned, that had gotten more difficult. It wasn't like Crowley couldn't leave his house, he just didn’t particularly want to, with all the fiery rain and rivers turning to blood and the like.

These plagues were annoying as Hell, and Crowley would know. He'd visited enough to be familiar enough with their work. It was mind boggling to realize that this destruction was the work of Angel's, not demons for once. In his personal opinion, Crowley felt they had gone a little too far with the last one. Locusts were just…..disgusting. They gave him the creeps and there were millions of them. Impossible to avoid. Hence why he was stuck inside.

The darkness had come instantaneously. One moment, Crowley had been lying on his straw mat, staring at the ceiling, and then the next, he couldn't see a thing.

His first instinct would have been to assume he'd fallen asleep. That was the most likely scenario, but this didn't feel like a dream. He also could have gone blind, but what could have possibly caused that? And even if he had, a quick miracle could have fixed his condition, no problem. 

Crowley had no need to try out a miracle. The instant the darkness fell over his eyes, Aziraphale's constant presence had vanished. The demon sat up immediately, widening his eyes to take in as much light as possible. There was none to take in. The darkness had obliterated it all.

"What the fuck is this even all about?” Crowley muttered to himself. Was this another plague? Whose idea was it to completely blind everyone in the city? He’d thought the whole point behind this was to get Pharaoh to let the Israelites go. How were they going to go anywhere if they couldn’t see anything two inches in front of their faces?

“Idiots,” the demon huffed, attempting to miracle away the darkness. It didn’t work exactly as he’d planned. Crowley was able to sort of push the darkness back a bit away from where he was sitting. It was still very dark in the spaces closest to where he was, but at least his reptilian eyes could make out the vague shape of his hand in front of him.

What was he supposed to do now? Just sit around and wait? Why, for Somebody’s sake had Aziraphale simply vanished, right as the darkness took over? Had he been summoned back to Heaven? For what purpose?

At least the sound of the swarming locusts had vanished. Crowley wondered if that was because they’d actually left? Or if this darkness had also rendered him deaf. Something lead him to believe that maybe those buggers were gone. For whatever reason, the angels in charge of this mess seemed to be moving sequentially through their “miracles” instead of stacking them up against each other, which is what Crowley would have done. If he’d even bothered with it all, which he wouldn’t have because this whole situation was stupid. If the Almighty really wanted the Israelites out of Egypt, why didn’t She just move them all herself? Why give Pharoh a choice at all if She was just going to keep punishing him when he chose wrong?

Crowley huffed, then laid back down. He might as well try and take a nap. It wasn’t like there was much else to do around here these days, and with Aziraphale gone, he couldn’t even try to leave and seek out the angel. Best to wait it all out. This was a mess the demon wanted to keep as far away from as possible.

He awoke some time later to a chill in the air followed by the sharp stench of blood.

The demon was on his feet immediately, before his brain made the realization that this was animal blood he was smelling, not human blood. A...sheep, if he had to guess. Multiple, by the strength of the smell. 

Not really understanding why, Crowley made to go outside. Darkness still blanketed the streets, so Crowley followed his nose instead. It was a bit of a strain, pushing the darkness away from himself enough that he could avoid tripping over anything left in the streets, but the demon pressed on. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach that the angels had gotten fed up with waiting. Why else would they have called Aziraphale back if not in preparation for something big?

The thought that something had happened to the angel was not one Crowley was willing to entertain.

As he left his section of the city, the demon realized the darkness wasn’t quite so dark. It would still be impossible for human eyes to decipher anything of use, but Crowley’s eyes were better suited to the dark. By the time he reached the lower section of the city, he didn’t need to use his powers to see at all.

“Figures,” he muttered under his breath. Of course the angels would have only placed their curse on the Egyptian side of the city. Never mind the fact that only Pharaoh was to blame. Nope, had to punish all the other Egyptians too. The wankers.

The blood was coming from this part of the city. For a moment, Crowley thought the worst had happened. Tired of playing this game, Pharoh had ordered the murder of his captives rather than face the embarrassment of having to let them go. Crowley supposed that wouldn’t have been entirely terrible for him. It would be easy enough to claim he had tempted the Egyptian king into doing such a thing. The demon would likely get a commendation for the task and then maybe Hell would leave him alone for a few dozen years.

Then he noticed the blood on the door frame and reminded himself that it hadn’t smelled like human blood. A sacrifice? For what purpose? 

Crowley had never understood sacrifices. They were always so...messy and didn’t make a lot of sense. He was pretty sure that killing an innocent animal wasn’t going to make the Almighty listen to what a person had to say if She didn’t want to.

“What is happening here?” the demon whispered. There was blood smeared on the door frame of nearly every door on the street and several other streets Crowley walked down. A breeze much too cold for Egypt at this time of year blew by him, causing the demon’s navy robe to billow wildly around his feet. Something was very wrong. He could sense it.

Black wings unfurled as the demon took to the sky. Normally, he avoided using his wings whenever possible, especially in crowded cities like this. It was too easy to slip up and have someone notice him. Now, though...well now there was no chance of Crowley being spotted. Not tonight. Not beneath this ocean of darkness that had swallowed them whole. Not when thousands of people sat cowering in their homes awaiting whatever plague was to come.

When Crowley eventually spotted the figure, he felt his blood run cold. Of course. Why hadn’t he seen it before? Of course he was here. Of course it would come to this. Couldn’t they have come up with something better than to involve him ? Crowley felt sick to his stomach.

He landed beside the figure, cloaked in starlight and smelling of nothingness. It was almost like standing next to a complete void - as if the demon could be sucked in at any moment. He steeled his expression and turned to face the figure.

“What are you doing here?” Crowley asked, forcing as much politeness as he could into the question. Pissing off the Angel of Death wasn’t exactly at the top of his priority list.

THERE IS WORK TO BE DONE, the figure responded. As he spoke, the tiniest of white lights appeared in the sky. Crowley watched with growing dread as a tendril of white smoke leaked out, making its way closer and closer to the people sleeping below. I HAVE COME TO TAKE EVERY FIRSTBORN FROM THE LAND. FROM PHARAOH WHO SITS ON THE THRONE TO THE SMALLEST SLAVE GIRL. THEIR TIME HAS COME.

Shit. Not again. Crowley could feel his mind returning to ancient times with the threat of stormclouds on the horizon. Children had died then too. What was it with these angels and killing kids? Where was the justice in that? Where was the mercy.

“Come on,” Crowley found himself saying. “You can’t really kill them all, right? That seems like an awful lot of paperwork.”

WHAT HAPPENS TO THE SOULS AFTER THEY HAVE LEFT THEIR BODIES IS NONE OF MY CONCERN.

Another chill. This was bad. A bunch of kids were about to have their souls sucked from their bodies only to find that they’d been left alone in an impenetrable darkness with no way out. How would they ever find their way?

A thought flickered to life in Crowley’s mind. It was completely un-demonlike and he would likely be punished if found out, but it was crazy enough that it just might work. 

“I have a proposition for you.”

Crowley hated the thought of those kids suffering. They were innocents - they didn’t deserve to be abandoned like this. It wasn’t their fault, and while the demon knew he couldn’t spare their lives, there was something he could do.

WHO ARE YOU, DEMON, TO MAKE REQUESTS OF ME.

It was the end of the conversation, Crowley knew it. Yet, he could feel the anger in his heart stirring. He didn’t want to give up yet. These were kids for crying out loud. Why did nobody seem to care? Somebody should bloody well care!

He turned toward the figure, trying not to let his serpentine eyes fall on the starry robe for too long lest he be sucked in. Instead, the demon gazed up into an inky black face and a pair of electric blue eyes, shining through the darkness.

“Please, Azrael,” the demon began, catching the other figure’s full attention. “Let me do something to help.”

The Angel of Death was silent for some time, as if contemplating all the questions of the universe at once. Crowley did not dare to move a muscle, lest he be undone.

VERY WELL. I WILL HEAR WHAT YOU HAVE TO SAY.

Chapter Text

Ammon was cold.

He knew it had only been a few days, but it felt like the coldness had been here forever.

When will the sun come back, Momma? He had asked on the first day.

Soon, she replied. If we give up our prayers to the great god Ra, he will surely restore the sun to us.

And so he prayed. That little boy prayed as hard as he could because, though he would never admit it, Ammon hated the darkness. It terrified him.

Momma, I’m hungry. Do we have any food? He asked on the second day.

No, son, she answered softly. But surely if we pray to Geb, the god of the earth, he will bless us with a harvest like no other.

Momma, he said on the third day. I’m cold.

Climb under the blankets and rest, she responded. And surely by the time you wake up, everything will be back to normal. 

Ammon did what he was told, huddling under layers of cloth up against his younger sister. He tried to sleep, and perhaps he did. It was far too dark to tell the difference between the waking and sleeping worlds.

Eventually, after a lifetime of waiting, Ammon spotted something outside the window. A soft white light filtered in through the cracks in the curtains, illuminating the space around him. For the first time in days, Ammon could see, really see , the contents of their room. In the corner sat the old wooden rocking chair. The familiar red and gold carpet rested comfortably under the bed. Ammon smiled. His mother had been right. Things were going back to normal. The sun had returned and surely, by the time his parents awoke, there would be food once more.

A soft tendril of white light snaked its way through the gap in the curtains. It hovered in the air like a wisp of smoke, coming ever closer to the boy lying wide awake in bed.

Ammon could feel his heart racing. This didn’t look like any sunlight he’d ever seen. There was no warmth accompanying this light. If anything, it made the room feel even colder.

Something triggered in the young boy’s mind, telling him to run! Get away. Do whatever he had to do to not let that light touch him. He was already halfway out of the bed, feet brushing the ground when his sister sighed softly in her sleep. Ammon froze.

He couldn’t leave her. That would be wrong. He had to stay and face the white light. He had to be brave, for her.

Ammon climbed back into bed, drawing the blankets up around him so only his eyes were visible. The light was still creeping towards him, twisting violently in the air, getting faster and faster and faster. Ammon squeezed his eyes shut as a rush of air blew over him. Then, everything was silent. 

Upon hearing nothing, the boy opened his eyes. The twisting light had vanished, but Ammon was still able to see the room as he looked around. The light was dim, and he couldn’t exactly tell where it was coming from, but he was thankful to have it anyway.

He no longer felt cold.

Looking around, Ammon realized he was standing in the middle of the room. When had he gotten out of bed?  He glanced back at the bed and saw the silhouettes of two children still tucked safely away in bed. Only one of them was still breathing.

A shadow fell over the window, blocking out the light for a moment. Ammon closed his eyes as a wave of fright entered him. When he opened them again, he noticed the room was much lighter. There appeared to be a golden glow coming from just outside the window. As if drawn to the light, Ammon began drifting toward the curtains, reaching a hand out to draw them aside, eyes wide.

Ammon had never seen anything as wondrous as this. Standing in the middle of the street was a man dressed in a navy blue robe. His hair was a flaming red and fell in a halo of curls down to his shoulders. On his back were a pair of ink black wings stretched wide behind him. That must have been what had caused the shadow, as the rest of his entire body was shining with golden light.

The creature turned toward him with a soft, sad smile. Wordlessly, he extended his hand for Ammon to take. The boy shook with fear.

“Don’t be afraid,” the figure whispered, turning to face the child, but remaining where he was. “I’m here to take you home.”

A frown appeared on Ammon’s face. “But my home is here.”

“Not anymore.”

Somehow, the boy knew this was the truth. He didn’t belong here, but where else was he supposed to go?

The figure smiled softly, his hand still outstretched. “Come with us. I promise, you’ll like where we’re going.”

Ammon glanced down the street and saw for the first time that there were dozens of other children standing around, all with similar looks of fear and apprehension on their faces.

He looked back up at the golden figure and felt a sudden wave of peace wash over him. Without a second glance, the boy clambered out the window and walked over to the golden figure, slipping his small hand into the outstretched one as they continued their way down the street.

All of the angels had been called together for a meeting. Aziraphale had returned as soon as the summons came, thankful to get a short break from the chaos that was happening down on Earth. He felt bad that he’d been forced to leave humanity in this time of crisis, but it was honestly getting to be too much, even for a Principality such as himself. 

Gabriel called them all together in the main hall to give a debrief of the previous events. There had been eight plagues so far, each one more gruesome than the last. Aziraphale wondered if the Almighty had come up with them Herself or if She’d delegated that task to one of the angels. Who among them could have come up with such terrible events? Water turning to blood? Fire raining from the sky? It had been absolutely horrible. He had a hard time imagining anyone but a demon coming up with it all, but this was not the devious work of Hell. It was the righteous punishment of Heaven.

At least, that is what he’d been told.

Aziraphale looked around at all the angels gathered in this place and wondered what they all thought about this whole situation. He was the only angel currently stationed on Earth - the only one who had witnessed these atrocities with his own eyes. Did the other angels mourn as he did, watching the destruction raining down on Egypt? Did any of them care?

“And now, we move onto the final two plagues,” Gabriel was saying. Aziraphale’s ears perked up at this. Final? Did that mean Pharaoh was really going to let the Israelites go? Or would the angels send something so terrible that there would be no more Egypt to hold them? “The darkness has already settled over Egypt. We made sure to confine it to the more prosperous parts of the city, away from the Israelites. With that complete, everything is in place for the final plague. We are just waiting on word from Azrael. Pharaoh will change his mind and we must all be ready for what happens after.”

A murmuring of agreement spread across the gathered angels. Aziraphale felt a trickle of dread enter his mind. What did the Angel of Death have to do with all this? The Principality hadn’t been around when the angels had started planning things. He had no idea what the final plague would be, but by the sounds of things, it wasn’t going to be pretty.

In the corner of the room, there was a miniature version of a globe. It glowed with soft light that could barely be seen underneath the blinding white lights around them. Aziraphale inched himself closer to the sphere. Every so often, his eyes flickered back up to the Archangels as they talked, but they didn’t seem to notice him. 

As he drew closer, Aziraphale’s thoughts went to the happenings in Egypt. He could see clearly reflected on the map’s surface the overwhelming darkness that had surrounded the area. Just staring at it made the angel’s stomach churn unpleasantly. He wondered briefly how Crowley was managing, and then chastised himself for even thinking of his mortal enemy in such a way. 

A single white light appeared on the globe as Aziraphale was watching. He concentrated on the spot, wondering what in the world it could be. Did it have something to do with the final plague? Without realizing it, the angel reached and gently brushed his hand against the light.

Immediately, upon feeling the tug of the map at his essence, Aziraphale pulled his hand back as if he had been burned. Still that wasn’t enough to stop the visions from invading his mind.

He was flying overtop the countryside, just outside of the city. There was darkness in the distance blotting out everything from sight. It wasn’t the usual darkness seen on a moonless night. This was all encompassing, void creating darkness. Aziraphale had never seen anything like it before. 

In the distance, the Principality spotted a gentle glowing light. It was a soft golden color and gazing at it filled Aziraphale with a warmth he couldn’t explain. He watched as the light came closer, glowing warmly, black wings outstretched behind it.

Crowley? Impossible. What the blazes did he think he was doing?

Aziraphale’s eyes went wide and he tried to stop his rising panic. The demon Crowley was currently on Earth, with some kind of golden aura shining around him. The nature of the aura didn’t bother him so much as the small army of children that were following closely behind. Children who, Aziraphale suspected, had just fallen victim to the final plague.  

All of a sudden, the Principality found himself back in the meeting room, listening to the Archangels finishing up their discussion. He tried to soak in the words as they spoke, something about ‘firstborn’ and the ‘Red Sea’, but nothing seemed to make any sense. All he could think about was the demon down on Earth, gathering all the lost souls under his wing while the entirety of Heaven was discussing things up here.

What would a fiend such as he do to them? Was he gathering them up to lead them back to Hell where they would be tortured? Did he plan to sacrifice them to fuel some other sort of terrible plot? How had none of the other angels noticed what was going on? He should say something. Tell Gabriel what he had seen so that the Archangel could send down an army of the Heavenly Host to defeat the wiley serpent.

The kids? You can’t kill kids.

The memory hit Aziraphale with such force that it stayed his tongue. Crowley had been appalled many centuries ago when The Almighty had chosen to flood the world. The angel remembered seeing the shock on the demon’s face - the heartache in his eyes when Aziraphale had admitted to some of the details of The Plan. He hated the thought of Heaven choosing to kill the human children. Crowley wouldn’t do anything to actively harm an innocent child on his own, would he?

“Um - Ex-excuse me?”

Several eyes turned in the Principality’s direction. Aziraphale looked up nervously at the Archangel’s, hesitantly meeting Gabriel’s violet gaze.

“Yes, Aziraphale?” Gabriel prompted, appearing slightly bored.

“Um,” he began, hoping against hope that this would work. “Well, I was just wondering, are you sure that the Pillar of Cloud will be enough to guide them away from Egypt? Won’t that be hard to see at night?”

The Archangel’s were silent for a moment. Eventually, Gabriel nodded. “Excellent point, Aziraphale. We’ll need something more.”

“Would a pillar of fire work for the nighttime?” Michael asked. Gabriel smiled at her, satisfied.

“Yes, yes. That will do quite nicely. Come along everyone. We have much to prepare and Pharaoh is about to make his decision. Hurry now.”

The angels started to dissipate and Aziraphale watched them go. When he was absolutely sure no one was watching, the Principality turned to the globe and miracled himself back to Egypt. 

Chapter Text

Crowley led the way through the city as the firstborn children trailed behind him. Up ahead, he could see the tendrils of white smoke as they traveled from house to house, avoiding any that had been framed with the lamb’s blood. One by one, the growing crowd stopped at each home to collect the child that had been taken - unfairly ripped from its body and thrown into a frighteningly dark world with no idea where to go or what to do.

These children were terrified. The first one had been barely two years old and had clung to him sobbing for ten minutes before Crowley could get the boy to let go. Even still, the child was toddling on behind him, practically wrapped around his leg. It was a good thing Crowley didn’t need to walk very fast at the moment. 

At each house, Crowley grew more and more angry. He hated how Heaven could just throw all these lives away, like they didn’t matter - just to prove a point. He hated how some of the children cried at having to leave their parents behind. He hated how most of them weren’t even old enough to understand what was happening to them, yet they still flocked to him like moths drawn to a flame.

The demon had been surprised at how agreeable Azrael had been to his plan. He assumed the Angel of Death had a process by which he did things and that no one was to interfere with that process, but he’d barely said anything after hearing Crowley’s request. He had simply reached out his hand and the deal had been made.

Radiant energy flowed through Crowley, coalescing in a golden glow all across his skin. It felt like fire in his veins, but the demon didn’t have time to dwell on that now. This was the only way to convince the children to follow him. They may be young, but their instincts were sharp. As a demon, he would have never been able to gather them all together like this, but now? They would follow him anywhere. 

After what felt like a lifetime of walking and stopping and comforting and ushering, Crowley finally stopped at the foot of the palace steps. In the distance behind them, he could see the white tendrils beginning to drift up into the sky. They merged together in a great rush of wind and light, changing direction before racing back towards the palace.

Show off, the demon thought to himself. He quickly raised his arms and held them out to the children standing before him. They rushed towards him, huddling together, trembling and crying out in fear. Somehow, Crowley felt the energy inside him growing. His wings stretched outward much farther than they should have been physically able to, creating a blanket of black feathers that wrapped themselves around all the souls that had been taken. He could feel the terror wash over the children and he quietly whispered to them promises of sunshine and rainbows and all the other beautiful things a child could dream about.

The white light rushed past them, flooding Pharaoh’s palace from top to bottom. Crowley was forced to shut his eyes and turn away, lest he be blinded by the brilliance of it. He pulled the children closer to him and began to hum a soft lullaby, calming them as much as he could. Once again, he wished there was some way for him to protect them from all this. They didn’t deserve it. They were just innocents caught in the crossfire.

As quickly as it came, the light had vanished, swirling upward into the sky like a bioluminescent tornado before dissipating like it had never existed in the first place. The night sky had returned to normal, the darkness disappearing with Azrael’s last judgement.

A boy was standing at the top of the palace stairs when Crowley looked back. He looked to be no older than ten, with most of his head shaved except for an ornate ponytail at the top. Unlike the other children, this boy stood tall, resolute, but Crowley could see the fear behind his dark eyes.

“What is your name?” he asked softly as some of the other children shifted back and forth impatiently behind him.

“What are you?” the boy returned, avoiding Crowley’s question entirely. The demon smiled, understanding finally dawning on him. He knew exactly who this child was. 

Bastards, he thought, a particular set of violet eyes coming to mind. Where’s the fun in killing just one child to get what you wanted? No. You had to go for the theatrics. Wipe out a whole nation of children instead.

“I am an angel.” The lie tumbled out of his mouth easily. “My job is to gather you all together and make sure you get home safely. It’s quite dark out here,” he continued after a moment of silence. “I didn’t want anyone to get lost.”

That last part was the truth and it was almost as if the boy could sense it in him. Cautiously, the young prince made his way down the stairs to stand before Crowley, gazing up at him with mild curiosity.

“What’s wrong with your eyes?” the boy asked.

Crowley stifled a snarl. What a brat. Here the demon was, sticking out his own neck so that the kid didn’t get lost on his way to Heaven and the boy had to go ahead and insult him.

“They’re special,” he retorted, trying to keep some level of pleasantness in his voice. It wouldn’t do to blow his cover now. “Especially good for seeing in the dark. They’re how I found all of you.”

His answer seemed to satisfy the boy. Crowley reached out his hand and the young prince shook it firmly. Then, without another word, the demon spread his wings and took off into the sky, radiant energy spilling from him as tendrils wrapped themselves around each and every child, pulling them up with him until they were all soaring over the city streets below.

They were flying and the kids were loving it. Loud shouts of glee rose up over the hills nearby as the children soared back and forth, giggling as they bumped into each other. Crowley smiled to himself and let them have their fun, his sights set on a tall hill off in the distance. Let them be kids while they still could. 

This was the part of the plan that got a bit foggy. In fact, this was the part of Crowley’s plan where he had no plan. The demon had been able to work his way through the city, making sure each and every child was accounted for. Now that he had them, what was he supposed to do? He could take them to Hell, but that would hardly be sporting of him. Sure, he might get a commendation, but he knew as well as anyone where these children belonged. 

If only Aziraphale were here. The angel would know what to do.

As if an answer to his unspoken prayer, there was a flash of bright light and the Principality appeared in the skies above them. Collectively, the children looked up, some of the younger ones pointing excitedly, eyes staring up in wonder.

The angel drew nearer and Crowley suddenly realized that Aziraphale was furious. He supposed Crowley couldn’t blame him. From the outside, it certainly looked like the demon was up to no good. Aziraphale probably thought he was traipsing around as an angel trying to win all of these innocent souls for Hell.

Oh angel, is that really what you think of me?

“Aziraphale,” he chorused, waving the angel over like he was greeting an old friend. “You’re just in time!”

The Principality landed on the hillside beside him, blue eyes blazing with righteous fury. “What is the meaning of this?” he asked, somewhat harshly. Crowley immediately shot him a look. The angel faltered ever so slightly.

“Listen up, everyone,” Crowley began. He had most of their attention already. The soft warm glow still emanating from his body was alluring. “I want you all to meet Aziraphale. He’s going to be your guide tonight, to take you all into the next life.”

The demon bit back a laugh when he caught Aziraphale’s expression out of the corner of his eye. The angel was floored. If Crowley didn’t know any better, he would have said that immense brain of his had short-circuited.

“But why can’t you take us?” a timid voice of one of the children closest to him asked. Crowley could hear the quiver of fear in the young one’s voice. Gently, the demon knelt to the ground and held out an arm for the child to come to.

“There’s no need to be afraid, Jabari,” the demon wrapped his wings around the child in a gentle embrace. “You all have no idea how lucky you are. Do you all know who this is?” Although he was speaking softly so he didn’t scare the children, Crowley’s voice carried all the way through the crowd, as if he were standing right beside him. The energy shining beneath his skin burned hotter, but the demon ignored it. 

“This is the angel Aziraphale. He’s the best angel, out of all the ones that live in Heaven. He’s the gentlest, kindest angel you will ever meet, and you know what else?” The boy shook his head slowly. “He’s even got a sword, to protect you from all the bad things in this world.” That last part was another lie, but the kids didn’t need to know that. “He’ll make sure you all make it to Heaven where you belong.” 

“Are you coming with us?” one of the other children asked, the sound of tears hovering at the edge of his voice.

Crowley shook his head. “I’ve got to stay here, to use these special eyes in case one of you gets lost. It’s my job to find you and I take my job very seriously.”

That answer seemed to satisfy them, and as a whole, the lost children turned towards Aziraphale who was gazing at Crowley with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Hurry up, angel,” the demon teased, trying desperately not to clench his teeth as the pain began to mount inside his body. This corporation wouldn’t last much longer. “These kids have been through a lot tonight and deserve to go home, don’t you think?”

The angel stuttered. “Quite right, my boy. Uh - thank you for keeping an eye on them for me while I was attending to some heavenly business...up in Heaven. Yes, well, come along children. Best be off.”

Crowley rolled his eyes, desperately wishing he had something to hide them behind. It’s a good thing most of these kids were young. Aziraphale was absolutely awful at improvising. It was a wonder they didn’t see right through him.

“We’ll, uh,” the angel continued as the souls of Egypt’s firstborn began to rise steadily into the air. “We’ll continue this conversation later?” He gazed down at Crowley with unbridled concern. In that moment, bathed in heavenly light, Aziraphale looked every part of the ‘rescuing angel’. It took Crowley’s breath away.

The demon simply smiled. “Sure, angel. I’ll be around when you get back.”

That was a lie too, but Aziraphale didn’t need to know and Crowley certainly wasn’t about to tell him.

Chapter Text

It made absolutely no sense. Why had the demon Crowley gone out of his way to gather all these children together? What possible motive could he have had? And what was with that golden aura about him? Aziraphale had never seen a demon do that before. Was it something new?

So many questions, and the only being that could answer them was down on Earth while Aziraphale was stuck here in Heaven with Gabriel.

“And you took it upon yourself to gather up the children on your own?” the Archangel was asking, eyebrows raised as if he couldn’t believe the Principality had it in him to do such a thing. Aziraphale squirmed uncomfortably under the violet gaze.

“Yes,” Aziraphale began, desperately trying to keep his hands firmly at his side so they wouldn’t start fidgeting nervously and give him away. “I just saw how busy you all were with the Pillar of Fire and all, so I figured I’d just pop down there real quick and gather them all up. Wouldn’t want the poor things getting lost.”

“No…” Gabriel pondered Aziraphale carefully. “We wouldn’t want that. I appreciate you taking the initiative. You were right, the rest of us were caught up with preparations for what was to come that there must have been an oversight. Excellent work, Aziraphale. I’ll be sure to write highly of your actions in my report.”

“T-thank you, Gabriel,” Azirphale replied, trying not to dwell too long on the flash of guilt he felt in his stomach. This hadn’t been his doing at all, it had been Crowley’s. But there was no way the Principality could tell Gabriel that. The Archangel would hardly believe him, and if by some miracle he did, Aziraphale would likely get into trouble for consorting with a demon.

“Right then,” Gabriel continued, looking around the room to see what else needed attending to. “You’re free to head back to your station. We’ve got the next bit covered. I’ll be sure to send you your next assignment once everything shakes itself out.”

Aziraphale gave an awkward wave as the Archangel walked away. Drawing in a deep breath he didn’t actually need, the Principality snapped his fingers and miracled himself back to Earth.

He appeared on the same hillside where Crowley had gathered the children before. At least, Aziraphale thought it was the same hillside. It certainly looked the same except for the absence of one very specific demon.

“Crowley?” the angel called softly, just in case Heaven was listening in. “Where are you, you wiley serpent?”

There was no response. Aziraphale frowned. He had heard the demon correctly, hadn’t he? Crowley had said he’d be around when Azirphale got back, and the Principality hadn’t been gone that long. An hour tops, but even then it was probably much less. Where else would Crowley go? The Israelites hadn’t left Egypt yet, so he couldn’t very well follow them, could he? So where had Crowley wandered off to?

Aziraphale took to the skies, not exactly sure why his heart was racing so much. He shouldn’t feel this concerned about the enemy. Crowley was a demon for goodness sake. They were supposed to hate each other, not frantically go searching for the other when one of them went missing.

The relief that swept through the angel when he finally spotted Crowley ten minutes later was indescribable. Aziraphale flew to him, instantly realizing that something was very wrong.

When he’d left Crowley, the demon had appeared almost ethereal. His whole body had been glowing a brilliant gold, like starlight sparkling on his skin. Aziraphale had been mesmerized one he’d realized the children hadn’t been in any immediate danger. Now, the demon lay crumpled on the ground. His skin was ghostly white and he was trembling, pupils fine slits of black against the wide golden pools.

In an instant, the angel was kneeling by his side, grass stains be damned.

“Crowley?” Why did his voice sound so panicked? “Crowley, talk to me. What happened?”

“S’nothing, angel,” the demon panted. There was a thin film of sweat gathering at his brow and as Aziraphale leaned in to brush the demon’s forehead, it felt icy cold.

“I’m not blind, Crowley,” Aziraphale huffed. He wasn’t an idiot either. Anyone with two working eyes could see the demon was in immense pain. “Here, let me try and help - “

“No!” the demon growled, pale arm flying up to stay Aziraphale’s hand. “No…” Crowley’s voice was much softer this time. “You’ll get into trouble.”

“For healing someone?” Aziraphale scoffed. “I hardly think that’s a punishable offense, my dear.”

Crowley winced, drawing in a hissing breath as he tried to turn and face the angel. Aziraphale lowered his arm and rested it gently against the demon’s shoulder, careful not to touch his skin. Even through the robe’s fabric, the angel could feel the residual radiant energy trapped inside the demon’s body. What had Crowley done to himself?

“For healing a demon ,” Crowley clarified, gritting his teeth together. He was still shaking, but Aziraphale could not tell whether it was from the pain or from the cold.

The angel shrugged. “I don’t have to tell them it was you specifically. I did just save countless children, after all. I’m sure the Archangels wouldn’t bat an eye at me miracling away some random human’s pain.” He paused and looked down into those golden eyes, wishing there was some way he could convince them to tell him what had happened. Crowley’s eyes had always been the most expressive part of him. “They probably wouldn’t even notice.”

A short laugh escaped the demon’s lips, but Aziraphale could hear the pain lurking underneath. “Thanksss for the offer, but don’t wassste your time. It would probably only make thingss worssse.” He was hissing now. This couldn’t be a good sign.

Silence fell between the pair, and Aziraphale let it linger. He watched, unblinking, as the demon’s chest rose and fell with labored breaths. Subconsciously, the angel began to rub his thumb gently across Crowley’s shoulder, hoping this small gesture brought Crowley some semblance of comfort. It was the only way he would allow the Principality to touch him and Aziraphale wasn’t going to press him further for fear of being turned away.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale tried again, his voice soft and low. “I can feel the radiant energy lingering around you. What did you do?”

“It’s your bloody fault,” the demon griped, squeezing his eyes shut as another wave of agony hit him. “All you daft angels. So worried about proving your point and getting the message across that you left all those kids to - “

He groaned, tears spilling from the corners of his eyes. Aziraphale can’t even imagine what the demon is going through in this moment. 

“They’re all safe, you know.” The angel murmured softly. “I made sure of it.”

“Like I care.” He did care. He cared very much, even if Aziraphale knew Crowley wasn’t allowed to admit it. Not to the angel kneeling beside him, not to Hell, not even to himself.

“I’m going to be in deep shit when I get back,” Crowley finally admitted after a few more moments of silence. “They’re going to flay me alive and then bury me miles inside their bureaucratic nightmare. It’ll be ages until I can worm my way back up here.”

He actually sounded a bit upset about that. Did Crowley enjoy living life up here on Earth? Aziraphale supposed it made sense. Given the choice between Earth and Hell, it was obvious which one he would pick, but Crowley? Crowley was a demon. Didn’t demons enjoy being in Hell?

“Why did you do it?” Aziraphale asked. Why did you suffer through so much pain to save those kids? Why didn’t you let one of the angels handle it? Why did you still go through with it, even knowing the risks?

Crowley snorted, then seized in pain. “I couldn’t very well leave it up to you preoccupied pigeons. And Azrael wasn’t going to lift a damn finger to help. Do you know what he said to me? He said ‘what happens to the souls once they have left their bodies is none of my concern’. What a load of bullocks that is.”

Aziraphale’s eyes widened. “You spoke with Azrael?” No one spoke to the Angel of Death. He was kind of a loner, completely separate from Heaven and Hell. He had to be, after all. They couldn’t have any favoritism in a matter as delicate as death, could they?”

The look Crowley gave him in that moment made Aziraphale’s skin crawl with embarrassment. “Of coursssse you daft angel,” he hissed. “How else do you think I ended up like this?”

Everything clicked together in Aziraphale’s mind. How had he not seen it before? Of course! Crowley may not have known what the final plague would be, but he would have known the general gist of it if he’d run into Azrael down here on Earth. The children surely would have been terrified after such an ordeal and would never have followed a demon with snakelike eyes and jet black wings. They would have run screaming from Crowley’s true form. The demon must have asked for some help. And for reasons only known to him, Azrael had agreed.

“It was nice knowing you, angel,” Crowley mused as he laid his head back against the grass, red hair splaying out underneath him. “I’m sure the next bastard they send up to take my place won’t be nearly as interesting as me. Tough luck.”

This made Aziraphale chuckle. He squeezed gently on Crowley’s shoulder, realizing that his hand hadn’t left that spot in all the time they’d been sitting here.

“I feel a lot less dead than before,” the demon mused after a moment. He looked up at Aziraphale suspiciously. The angel met his gaze, but could not hide the smile creeping onto his face. “What did you do?”

“Nothing.” It wasn’t technically a lie. Aziraphale had not done anything to properly heal Crowley. He had also not intentionally done anything to make the demon feel better. How was he to know that just by sitting near him, the remnants of the radiant energy in Crowley’s body would be drawn to him? Such a thing had never been done before. There was no way Aziraphale could have done anything nice for the demon on purpose.

That was the story they told themselves, anyway.

“Let me give you a lift home,” Aziraphale murmured, moving his arms to cradle the demon carefully. Crowley huffed, but offered no protest. The angel didn’t need a doctor to tell him that Crowley wasn’t strong enough to walk on his own yet. He would be alright, though, in the end. He just needed a bit of help to start off with.

“You know,” the angel began, balancing the demon comfortably in his arms. “You really are a nic - “

“Don’t say it,” Crowley snarled, though his voice sounded more weary than irritated. Aziraphale simply smiled. Nice. Crowley really was a nice being, when he chose to be.

They flew through the air in silence, the night sky filled to the brim with starlight. Had it always been this bright? Aziraphale couldn’t remember ever seeing a sky such as this. Glancing down, he saw that Crowley had fallen asleep, head resting gently against Aziraphale’s chest. He had never seen his enemy’s face looking so peaceful before. The sight warmed Aziraphale’s heart ever so slightly, although he would never admit that fact to anyone. Not for a very very long time.

If the angel chose to hold onto the demon just a little bit tighter in that moment, well, no one was there to know the difference.