Chapter Text
Hours passed, the clock slowly ticked along; seven o’clock, eight o’clock, half past ten. Both the angel and the demon were uneasy, restless, as anyone would be when expecting the Devil for morning tea. Aziraphale busied himself in the kitchen, trying his hand at baking a cake the human way instead of simply miracle-ing it into existence or buying it at a bakery like he usually did. It went as well as you’d expect from someone who’d never made a cake from scratch before. He ended up with flour in his already white hair and a cake that refused to be anything other than liquid. The angel ended up miracle-ing it anyway, then made his way to the back room. Crowley was browsing the bookshelves, despite knowing exactly what was on them and how rare they were. He had just picked up Shakespeare’s Richard II, a first edition including an autograph from the man himself, and draped himself on the couch. Aziraphale found the demon reading, or trying to read. Crowley was too distracted by his thoughts to concentrate on the book, and the fact that his snake eyes were not designed to read in the first place did not make things easier.
Somewhere around eleven o’clock the front door creaked on its hinges and celestial power flooded in, followed by the tapping of small footsteps on the wooden floor. The little girl made her way to the back room, following a soft voice speaking in a poetic manner. She stopped in the doorway, watching the white haired man read from a book popped open on the armrest of the couch. The other man was laying with his head in the first man’s lap, his long legs clad in black jeans hanging over the other armrest. She listened to the voice.
‘The favours of these men: were they not mine?
Did they not sometime cry “All hail!” to me?
So Judas did to Christ: but he, in twelve,
Found truth in all but one, I, in twelve thousand, none.’ Then he raised his voice, just a little, and read:
‘God save the King!’ The man paused. Trixie almost thought he caught her listening in, but then he continued.
‘Will no man say “Amen”?
Am I both priest and clerk? Well then, “Amen.”’ The white haired man fell silent again, all the while staring at the man in his lap, rather than the book in his hand. A different voice continued, suddenly.
‘God save the King! Although I be not he;
And yet “Amen”, if heaven do think him me.’The second voice was a little harsher than the first, less soft, but sweeter at the same time. Later that day Lucifer would explain to her that both spoke in perfect iambic pentameter, it would take at least another five years for her to understand what exactly that meant, but that wouldn’t keep her from appreciating it. The white haired man took over again and said:
‘To what service am I sent for hither?’ Somebody kneeled behind her, bringing his mouth level with her ear.
‘He’s reading Shakespeare. Beautiful, isn’t it?’ Lucifer whispered. Trixie nodded, not taking her eyes off the white haired man. From the corner of her eyes she could see pink toed socks bounce up and down slowly. Trixie tip-toed closer to the couch and into Aziraphale’s view. The angel smiled but didn’t stop reading. The girls wide eyes only served as encouragement. Crowley had his eyes closed, just enjoying the peace that the sound of his angels voice created. Trixie instantly liked the small smile that played around the demons lips. Something in her unconsciousness urged her to climb onto the couch and snuggle into the white fluffy shirt that seemed three sizes too big for the man’s slender figure, and just listen. She didn’t do that, of course, that would be intruding personal space and her mum taught her that was inappropriate unless the other person said it was alright. Consent, her mum had called it. Aziraphale read another few sentences.
‘You may my glories and my state depose,
But not my griefs; still am I king of those.’ He then closed the book, which, Trixie now realised, he hadn’t been looking at this entire time. Aziraphale smiled, Trixie waved enthusiastically and smiled back.
‘Crowley, dear, we have visitors.’ Aziraphale said while carding his fingers through the red locks before the other man opened his eyes and sat up.
‘Visitors?’ Crowley asked, taking in the little girl standing by the coffee table. ‘I only see one- Wait, I can feel him.’ he suddenly realised mid-sentence. Lucifer, still standing in the doorway, decided he didn’t particularly like being referred to as him, although it was better than King of Darkness. Chloe slid past her partner and walked up to the two men sitting on the couch. She extended a hand and introduced herself.
‘Chloe Decker, nice to meet you.’ Trixie took the hint and quickly added:
‘And I’m Trixie!’ while sporting a big toothy smile.
‘Pleasure is all mine.’ Aziraphale said, looking at the hand for a moment before shaking it, ‘I’m Aziraphale.’ He looked over at Crowley. To the outside world the demon probably looked at ease, but Aziraphale noticed a number of tiny signs that were just slightly off. He put a hand on the demons knee, trying to exude some kind of warmth, safety, confidence. Crowley blinked a few times and shortly said:
‘Crowley.’
Trixie walked up to Crowley and looked up at him, even sitting down the demon was taller than the girl. Her hands hovered above his knee, but she didn’t touch him.
‘Are you alright, mister?’ she asked, ‘You look like you might need a hug.’ Crowley looked at her, big, brown eyes wide and innocent, and the muscles in his jaw unclenched ever so slightly.
‘Maybe I do,’ he murmured to her. Leaning forward and putting a hand on her cheek the continued: ‘Thank you.’ Trixie nodded and, ever enthusiastic, jumped to the next topic of conversation.
‘I like your sweater, mister Crowley. It looks soft.’ Crowley smiled, thankful for a child’s ability to change so quickly.
‘I may have stolen it from this angel here.’ he stage whispered to her and grabbed Aziraphale’s hand. Trixie pretended to be shocked, then giggled and said:
‘I think you and my friend Maze could be really good friends.’ Crowley’s eyebrows raised, almost disappearing into his hairline, at this casual mention of a greater demon out of the mouth of a barely ten year old little girl.
‘Mazikeen?’ he said, before gathering his thoughts and continuing, ‘Yes, I’m sure we would be.’ as he stared into the middle distance, almost like he was remembering something that had happened a long time ago.
‘Shall I make some tea, my dear.’ Aziraphale asked no one in particular. ‘And some hot cocoa for you?’ He directed the second question at the girl.
‘Yes, please.’ was her enthusiastic reply.
‘Alrightie then.’ he said and disappeared into the kitchen, only to return moments later with five steaming mugs, one of which was topped off with a dollop of whipped cream, and a cake with chocolate icing. He put it on the coffee table, stood up straight (he may or may not have puffed out his chest a bit) and turned to the man standing in the doorway.
‘Your tea, Sir. Lord? Your majesty?’ Aziraphale never really thought about how one might address the Devil if he happened to come over for tea.
‘Lucifer is fine, Aziraphale.’ the dark haired man in the doorway said, almost giving the angel a nervous breakdown over the fact that the Devil knew his name, completely missing the fact he had just introduced himself to Chloe and Lucifer could just as easily have overheard. ‘Thank you for the tea, I missed some good, old, English tea.’ Finally the man moved from his spot in the shadow of the doorway, he walked in a straight line to one of the chairs, wrapped his hands around a mug, smelled the aroma of the tea, and sighed softly. He took a sip. Which Trixie took as a confirmation to her unspoken question and promptly buried her nose in the whipped cream, making soft sounds of pure delight.
When everyone had grabbed a mug and settled down Crowley demanded:
‘Why are you here?’ His eyes completely yellow, his knuckles white around the mug.
‘I would like to talk to you.’ Lucifer said slowly.
‘Talk?’ Crowley almost spat the word out. Not even Aziraphale’s hand on his knee could keep the disgust from lacing every word he said. It did keep the urge to run as far as the universe allowed tamed, though.
‘Yes,’ Lucifer said, ‘I have some questions.’
‘If you’ve come to gloat before discorporating me, just get on with it, would you?’
‘Gloat? Discorporate? What are you on about?’ Lucifer asked looking positively confused. Crowley didn’t buy it.
‘Oh, don’t act like you have no idea what I’m talking about.’
‘I genuinely don’t.’ Lucifer looked to Aziraphale for help, but only got a carefully kept blank expression. He reached for Chloe’s hand. ‘Let’s say I did come to discorporate you, which I have not, why would I bring the detective and her spawn?’ Crowley still wasn’t convinced. Aziraphale realised he might have a point there, but there were so many questions left to be answered, so he jumped in with:
‘But the airbase? We were sure you would come for us, especially after we misled both sides and thwarted the great plan.’
‘Airbase?’ Lucifer echoed, before realising the meaning behind the second part of Aziraphale’s sentence. ‘Wait, you deceived both heaven and hell?! Oh, I need to hear this.’ He turned to Chloe and repeated himself. ‘Heaven and hell, Dad must be beside himself. Unbelievable!’ Promptly skipping over the fact that Lucifer referred to God as Dad while she clearly was a woman Aziraphale pressed on about the airbase. There would be another time to discuss the gender of God herself.
‘You were at the airbase. How could you not remember?’ Aziraphale wondered, ‘It was only a year ago. At the airbase in Lower Tadfield.’
‘Lower Tadfield.’ Lucifer felt like he was becoming more and more of a parrot, constantly repeating. He felt Chloe’s eyes burn holes in the side of his head. ‘I’ve never been to Lower Tadfield.’
‘Oh, that’s bloody horsesh-’ Crowley cut himself off, suddenly remembering the little girl in the room, and finished his sentence with a lame ‘nonsense’ which very much denounced the original intention of his exclamation.
‘We saw you.’ Aziraphale added, before Crowley continued with:
‘It was the End Time, why would you not be there?’
‘Hold on, the End Time?’ This time it was Chloe who repeated, ‘What do you mean the End Time?’
‘The End of This World, brought along by the Anti-Christ at the age of eleven.’ Aziraphale explained quickly. Crowley, almost out of habit, added the names he had heard the nuns call the boy.
‘Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is called Dragon, Prince of this World, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan, and the Lord of Darkness.’ Chloe did not know what to say, images of a ever apocalypse movie ever flooding her mind. Lucifer softly squeezed her hand. A soft slurping sound coming from the coffee table broke the silence, followed by Trixie piping in with:
‘But if the world was supposed to end a year ago, why are we still here?’
‘That is a very good question, my dear girl.’ Aziraphale started, ‘You see, it all started many years ago. Back in the Garden, where I was guarding the Eastern Gate, I met a snake-’ He was cut off by an exasperated sigh from Crowley.
‘Not the whole story, angel.’ He turned towards Trixie and simply said, ‘We are still here because Adam, the Anti-Christ, decided he did not want to destroy the world.’ Lucifer chuckled, which got him a few confused looks.
‘So, you’re saying that the Anti-Christ, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Lord of Darkness …’ he paused for a moment, not able to keep another chuckle from escaping his throat, ‘is called Adam? Oh, the irony.’ When nobody reacted he continued on a more serious note. ‘Right, so let me get this straight. Twelve years ago the Anti-Christ was brought to earth. Eleven years later he received a hell hound, I felt it’s presence the moment it set foot on earth. And then decides he does not want to destroy the world and consequently reverts the ultimate plans of both heaven and hell back to ash.’ Lucifer looked to Crowley for a confirmation, but it was Aziraphale who answered.
‘That is a rough summary of what happened, yes. But it is missing the small detail of your presence.’
‘I told you, Aziraphale, I wasn’t there. I have never been to Lower Tadfield.’ Lucifer pressed.
‘Than how do you explain that enormous Satan shaped monstrosity that came out of the ground?’ Aziraphale wanted to know. Lucifer thought about that for a moment, a few wrinkles appearing in his forehead. Then he mumbled:
‘Oh no, they didn’t.’ He looked up at the angel sitting across from him. ‘Decades ago Beelzebub came to me with some kind of projection they invented. To scare the people with, they said. I ordered them to never use it, but I’m fairly certain that that is what you saw at the airbase; a very elaborate and realistic projection, probably along with some miracles. That explains why I had no idea what you were talking about. Because I swear I wasn’t there, the detective can vouch for me.’
‘A projection.’ Crowley murmured angrily, ‘You had me convinced it was the End Time and that the angel and I would be discorporated, and now you’re telling me it was just a projection?!’ Crowley’s voice got progressively louder.
‘Satan was a projection, but had Adam decided he did not like humanity the End of the World would have been very real.’ Lucifer stressed the importance by repeating the last few words softly, ‘Very real.’
‘But why weren’t you there?’ Crowley wanted to know, slowly coming to terms with the fact that Lucifer was indeed not present at the almost End Time.
‘Because I didn’t know.’ was Lucifer’s simple answer, causing Crowley to scoff in disbelieve. Lucifer continued regardless, ‘I have been living on earth for the better part of thirteen years now. I have never been on earth this long, if I’m being honest, and I don’t really want to leave either.’ He glanced towards the woman still holding his hand. ‘Beelzebub must have felt me slipping away and claimed power for themselves. I didn’t really care. I had grown quite fond on humanity over the centuries. Beelzebub must have known that if they wanted the End Time to happen, they’d have to do it without me knowing. Because they knew I would have opposed them.’
‘But,’ Aziraphale spluttered, ‘How? He is your son, isn’t he?’
‘You have a son?!’ Chloe exclaimed. Lucifer felt her hand lip out of his.
‘Yes and no,’ he was quick to explain, ‘Biologically, yes, he is my son, he shares my DNA. But he has existed ever since I fell. Listen,’ Lucifer went to sit back in his chair and crossed his legs, ‘when I fell I was angry, beyond angry. I came up with a dozen plans to show Father exactly how angry. Most of them were doomed to fail from the beginning, but there was one that worked. I created an Anti-Christ. Like Father made Adam from dust, so did I. Irony is that his earthly parents actually named him Adam.’ Lucifer chuckled again, although it sounded sad, and continued right after. ‘I intended to scare Father into thinking I’d actually use him, but I never wanted to destroy anything. So I let Father think I’d destroy the earth, to keep him on his toes, to keep him paranoid, but I quickly deactivated the life I created. I put him in a time bubble and locked him away, knowing the risk he’d pose if he were to grow up. But I couldn’t bear to get rid of him completely.’ Three pair of eyes were staring at Lucifer, all with varying degrees of confusion. Trixie was looking at her mug, which had miraculously filled itself with steaming hot cocoa again, including the whipped cream on top.
‘But apparently I was wrong.’ Lucifer confessed, ‘The boy was not destined for destruction.’ Lucifer fell silent again, the weight of that confession heavy on his chest, but it lifted a lot of worries off his shoulders.
‘You have a son.’ said Chloe in disbelieve, reaching for Lucifer’s hand again.
‘I have a son.’ repeated Lucifer softly.