Chapter Text
SUNDAY
THE VERY FIRST DAY OF THE REST OF THEIR LIVES
Adam had rebooted reality.
He had changed the past and changed the present.
So on Sunday, people woke to find a world that was almost, but not entirely, the one that they used to inhabit. Although people who were dead were now alive. And things that were broken had now been miraculously restored.
Octavius stood outside the book shop, it was good as new and he ignored the sick, sinking feeling in his stomach. He walked in, and traced his perfectly soft and manicured fingernails over the desks, and he twirled the ring on his finger. The couple came to an agreement to wear their wedding rings on show, they are on their side, they worship each other, it was only appropriate.
He paused, and stared at a shelf of books, Biggles Goes to Mars and Jack Cade, Frontier Hero and 101 Things A Boy Can Do and Blood Dogs of the Skull Sea. They weren't the style of the shop, but they were nice, he's sure and they were first editions, he's sure and brand new. The only thing he could say, with a scowl was, "those are new." He looked around again, and decided that things certainly were off.
Jedediah walked out of the flat at ease, and paused to a slow stop. There, on the side of the road parked up, was the black Bentley, not a scratch on her, all shiny and new. It truly looked brilliant! He slowly smiled, all kind and soft, and he stepped forward, fixing his tartan collar, and stuck his hand out, calling out for a taxi, getting in the back seat and leaving the Bentley there.
Central Park was comparatively quiet. The ducks, who were experts in realpolitik as seen from the bread end, put it down to a sudden decrease in world tension. However, there were a lot of people in offices trying to figure out what happened to the computers yesterday, and where Atlantis had disappeared to.
A brass band played Queen's 'Lazing on a Sunday Afternoon' in the park, as the mostly deserted park, was filled with quiet chatter. A member of the MI9 was trying to recruit someone who, to their later mutual embarrassment, would turn out to also be a member of the M19.
"As far as the British government is concerned, the apparent appearance of the legendary monster the Kraken was a mass hallucination." Said one man, reading over the newspaper as some rain fell down with a quiet and gentle patter.
"There were a number of mass hallucinations in our country too." Said the other, with an accent as he bit a sandwich and read his paper.
"Yes, only this one ate our trade delegation."
And there was also Octavius and Jedediah.
"A strawberry lolly, and a vanilla with a flake, please." Asked Jedediah, pulling out money and handing it over to the man behind a red, wooden ice cream stand, that had an umbrella up.
"How is the car?" Asked Octavius, back straight-ish, but not as straight as usual.
"Not a scratch." Assured Jedediah, leaning onto the ice cream stand with effort, watching as Octavius stalked around him, eyeing him up and down. "How's the book shop?"
"Not a soot mark." Octavius said, tensely. "Not an object burned." He answered, strolling around his husband with a sway. "Everything is back just the way it was."
Jedediah reached out, and took the vanilla ice cream, handing it over to Octavius, who was now on the opposite side of him. He took his own strawberry lolly, and gave the man behind the stand a nice, yet still serpent-like smile.
"The others okay?" Asked Jedediah.
"Fine, all fine, worried about us, but... I explained a few things to them. But, uh...they uh... the Museum is open so it won't be open for a while," explained Octavius.
Jedediah let out a hum, nodding.
"You heard from your people yet?" Asked Octavius, tense, as he glanced around warily.
Shaking his head with pursed lips, Jedediah asked, "your people?"
"Nothing." He responded in a whisper, shaking his head and looking like he had just sucked a lemon.
The man behind the counter shut the case with a quiet thud.
Jedediah opened and closed his mouth, lips pursed, as he took his husbands spare hand, "do you know what happened yesterday?" He asked, leaning in slightly.
"Well, I understand some of it." Octavius replied, squeezing his husbands hand. "But some of it..." He trailed off, as if he was heaving, "well, it's just a little bit too—"
A dark hoarse, rumbled voice sounded from afar, INEFFABLE. Death stood, with his scythe raised and was feeding the ducks.
Jedediah stared at Death, and mumbled, gesturing with his lolly, "oh, that-that's funny, seeing him 'ere. That's meant t' be bad luck." He stammered out.
Death vanished into black smoke, gone again, as the ducks flew about in fear.
Stammering, Jedediah turned to his side, "it's meant to be bad..." There was no Octavius, nothing, and he wondered in fear when he lost the hand he was holding before. He spun around frantically, confused and worried, and suddenly he paused.
There was Octavius, white tape over his mouth, hands bound with white rope and was being dragged back by two angels. His hazel eyes were wide and he was mumbling and yelling behind the gag. (What was being said was, "Jed run! Run now!" (Because of course he would, even bound and gagged Octavius would try and warn him. No doubt in Jedediah's mind.))
Sandalphon and Uriel stood in front of the scene, shielding Jedediah from Octavius.
"Renegade angels all tied up with strings." Uriel said, in an outfit of a white shirt and beige dungarees.
Sandalphon, like the slime that it is, smiled, a sick twisted smile, "these are a few of our favourite things."
The two turned, loosing their twisted smiles as they went off after the shuffling and helpless Octavius.
'Damn everything!' Jedediah thought in panic and worry. He threw his lolly to the side, and pointed, "stop! Stop them!" His eyes wide, and he ran forward, stumbling as he did. (Because, of course Jedediah would run after him if he was in danger, that's just who Jedediah is. No doubt in Octavius mind.)
"What's wrong, love?!" Screeched a voice of what looked like a Korean woman. She raised a crowbar, and slammed against the blond haired beings head, and watched in satisfaction as Jedediah fell down with a pain filled grunt. No, who was thought to be a lovely Korean woman, was in fact Duke Hastur in disguise and he spat out, "oh, bad luck, dear."
Jedediah looked up, eyes squinting behind his glasses, and looked around with groans, three demons surrounded him watching with hateful glares, and he grunted out, and groaned in pain, everything spinning, "it's not a problem. It's... tickety-boo..." He fell down, unconscious and in pain, limp.
Lord Beelzebub, Duke Hastur and Under-Duke Dagon (who had sharp teeth, wet scales, and looked to be greasy), walked down the dark, damp and flickering, crackling lighted hallway, with a small creature known as one of Hell's Ushers leading them. The ceiling was still leaking with gunk, and sewage water, and smelt of fire and brimstone, mixed with sulphur.
Dagon looked utterly delighted, as she walked down the hallway. Next to her was Hastur, who scowled. In front of them was Beelzebub, who looked bored.
The Usher hummed, and groaned, it was small and pudgy, and was wearing a black torn sash and a staff, that held the symbol of a goat, the image of a goat well used in Hell, and it was something everyone used it for the symbol of satanic cults. (No one ever knew why, maybe Satan liked goats.)
Beelzebub sat on zir large, black throne that had multiple spikes coming from the back support, and ze began slouching in it with a delighted sigh, zir back practically on the seat itself rather than the back rest, as the seat came too far out. Hastur and Dagon sat on seats, either side of the Fly Lord.
They were in a dark and dingy room, thick with dirt, with a bacteria infested bathtub, and one large, grimy window in the wall, hand prints and grease dragged down it. Behind the window was a sea of demons, sat on the floor, and maggot eaten benches, eagerly watching and groaning, waiting for what was to come.
"The trial of the demon Jededish, beginning with evidence and ending with utter obliviation, is in session." Hell's Usher announced, and slammed his stick staff down twice. "All rise."
All the demons, Hastur and Dagon included, stood up from their seats as asked, all seeming eager. Hastur less so, more angry and cocky.
Beelzebub stayed in zir seat, flies buzzing around zir head, watching with a glare-full glare, and buzzed out with a bored drawl, voice echoing, "bring in the Traitor!"
Two dark hooded and cloaked demons led a frowning, and annoyed sauntering serpent demon down the same flickering hall, his fake snakeskin cowboy boots slamming against the floor. He was in his usual dark blue, brown jacket, black cowboy hat, sunglasses, clothing, only this time his golden wedding was blatantly on show, unlike all the other times he tried not to draw attention to it, and his hands were bound with red rope in front of him, tight and uncomfortable.
He sauntered in front of the three, the guards on either side. He smiled coyly suddenly, "hey, guys." He looked around, checking the place over, "nice place you got here. A sex dungeon! It took too long to convince you!" He smirked, eyes half-lidded with lust behind his glasses, and relished the choking of spit from Hastur.
("The Duke, Hastur is the easiest to mess with..."
"Is that you being encouraging to mess with Hastur?"
"Yep!")
"It's not a nice place... not for you, it won't be." Hastur choked out, tense and uncomfortable, as he shuffled.
"Could do with a pillow or two." He scowled, as if personally offended there was no pillows in a sex dungeon, "maybe a coffee table." He shrugged, "an actual bed..." He scrunched up his nose.
"Silenzzzze!" Buzzed Beelzebub, making the serpent look to the Lord, a lewd smirk on his lips. "The prizzzzoner shall approach."
"Love to." He agreed, stepping forward with a sharp smile. "So, four of us. Rubber of bridge? Barbershop quartet?" He asked in a joking manner, a smirk om his lips.
"The trial of a Traitor." Answered Beelzebub with a sarcastic look on zir face, and sounded bored, not at all amused. To be fair, ze always sounded bored, and done with everything.
With a frown, he asked, "Lord Beelzebub, you are...?" He trailed off, as if unsure, eyebrows pulled together.
"I'm the judge." Ze spat out, rolling zir eyes, and waved zir hands in disbelief, and the serpent gave a curt nod of realisation.
"And I'm the prosecutor." Hastur grumbled, making the blond haired demon look over. The Duke was smug, smirking and proud, as if he had something evil planned, he looked utterly delighted.
His sharp teeth were clenched, and lips pursed, and a confused look in his eyes, slinking just a bit. He looked over at the smirking Dagon, and offered, "and, so Dagon here us defending me?" He looked to Beelzebub. That didn't seem right, but... that was the only logical thing.
Beelzebub just looked annoyed and done, as if the serpent was treating Hell like Heaven, and ze clenched his hands.
"Oh, I'm afraid not." Dagon answered, not sounding too sad, showing off her rotten sharp teeth. "No, I'm just here in case there's anything you've done that they forgot." She smiled evilly, correcting the demon.
The snake nodded, with a look of stuttering realisation.
"But we built this place for you specially." Beelzebub informed, sitting up and leaning on the edge of the throne.
("Beelzebub will be sat in a throne, usually is..."
"I've been thinking about that; do you think Gabriel and Beelzebub are... you know? Doing it?"
"Ha!")
"It shall be your place of trial. And it shall be your place of destruction." Beelzebub said, a smirk on zir face, though ze still looked bored.
"That is very kinky, hoss. You shouldn't have gone to all the trouble, Beelzebub." Smiled the serpent, looking between all three of them with ease. He realised this trial was more of a theatrics than an actual trial. With a coy smirk, and suggestive lower lip bite, he asked, "what seems to be the problem?" He held back a proud smirk, 'I hate when the barbarian gets something right...'
Heaven was bright and sterile, and he gently moved his thicker and wider wrists, the golden bracelet glistening in the light. He was bound to a white chair, with pure white rope done up with a miracle, the wedding ring on show, and he stared ahead, blankly, ignoring the feeling of being stared at, and he ignored the feeling he got from the place. It was like being at the beach in bare feet...
("I'll wash your feet again, less blasphemous now, hm?"
"Oh, hush!")
"Ah!" Came a deep, and overly friendly, and clearly fake voice, "Octavius."
He didn't give Gabriel the satisfaction of looking over, and he stared at Uriel and Sandalphon, hiding disgust for the Archangel.
Gabriel slammed his hand on his shoulder like it was weighted, and said evilly, "so glad you could join us." He moved in front of him.
He finally looked to the Archangels glowing purple eyes, and said, "you could've just sent a message, through a letter maybe, you do have my address." He offered, a tense smile on his angular face, "I mean, popping in and kidnapping me, in the middle of broad daylight."
"Call it what it was: an extraordinary rendition." Gabriel said, his arms out and hands out. "Now, have we heard from our new associate?" He questioned, finger pointed, looking over to Sandalphon and Uriel, who stood just a bit from the Archangel.
"He's on his way." Uriel answered.
Gabriel smiled, and shook his hands in clenched triumph, "he's on his way."
("You will want to punch him, but don't."
"I won't hurt him, I promise!... much.")
Gabriel smile was sickeningly joyful, as if he had won the lottery, or had won the final battle between Heaven and Hell. "I think you're going to like this." He said, hands clasp like he was praying as he walked up to him, "I really do."
("Be kind, be friendly."
"But, he—"
"'Be kind to each other'... please?")
He gave a look of soft interest, though his brown eyes were a bit blank.
"And I bet you didn't see this one coming." Gabriel smirked, now bending down to be at height level with him, praying hands pointed to him.
His smile was gentle, as if being friendly, eyebrows raising kindly, 'you have no idea, you arsehole...' He thought, fighting off a malicious smirk.
The snake demon, not Jedediah, certainly not Jededish, not The Original Tempter, but is in fact Octavius-as-Jedediah, stared up at them, ignoring the glares sent his way from demons behind the glass, as Duke Hastur continued his biased case, "...and the murderer of a fellow demon, a crime I saw with my own eyes!"
("I uh... clearly killed Ligur with the Holy Water you gave me, angel..."
"Yeah, I see! But, why?!"
"I had to! They were going to kill me!")
"Actually, from what I remember, you was there to do the actual..." Octavius raised his bound hands, and slid them across the tanned neck. Jedediah had promised him it was in self defence, that it was the lowest of the low, even for demons, "don't I get leeway for defending oneself?"
"Silenzzzze!"
"Is there anything I can say in my defence?" Questioned the blond haired snake demon, who was actually a brown haired angel, looking at them, smiling all sexual. It was as if he was offering sex as a way of freedom, even though he was being charged for sexual flirting as well. (And, even Jedediah wouldn't actually have sex with any of them.)
("Offer sex, but I don't sleep with any of them."
"You don't?"
"No, it's you... it's always been you.")
Hastur scowled, in both anger and disgust, "that's a very good question, Jededish."
("They will use my dead name, and do not correct them."
"But, it's your name! They could at least have the decency to —"
"I know, but they don't. Do not correct them. I never do.")
"Objection!" Dagon argued, sounding uppity, and Octavius-as-Jedediah looked to the Under-Duke annoyed, his lower jaw clenched, his teeth grinding together. "It's a stupid question, there is nothing you can say or do, Traitor, as you've done it all."
"Objection sustained!" Beelzebub called, zir voice in a bored drawl. "Creatures of Hell," drawled the Lord, tired. This really was more of a theatrics then it was a fair and proper trial, but what could he expect? It was Hell. He looked behind him, back hunched and slouched as usual, and his eyebrows raised. "You have heard the evidence against the demon known as Jededish. What is your verdict?" Called Lord Beelzebub, resting zir elbows on zir legs, leaning forward.
("They'll call guilty."
"No matter what?"
"No matter what...")
"Guilty! Guilty! Guilty!" They chanted, thumping their fists into the air, as did Dagon, her sharp teeth on display as she cheered with them.
"Do you have anything to szzzzay before we take our vengeance on you? Asked Beelzebub, messing with a few boils on zir face, as Octavius turned around to face them, a subtle panic on his face.
What if they had read this wrong? What if this was all a shot in the dark, going off of a theory they had had? If that's the case, then they're fucked...
("And, if we're wrong?"
"Then I will find you, I have before haven't I?"
"But, not all your wild ideas turn out right..."
"Only the ones I do when I'm a loose canon...")
"What's it to be?" Octavius questioned, nervously, looking around at them with a shrug. "An eternity in the deepest pit?" He asked, before he could stop himself. He needed to be reassured, reassured this was happening, and they hadn't just jumped to a conclusion. Please, let them be right...
"No, we're going to do something even worse." Assured Hastur, a dark, evil smirk on his face. "Letting the punishment fit the crime."
There was a ding from the hallway. Heels clicked frown down the dark, flickering hallway suddenly, and he turned. He squinted, and grew confused. There, coming down the hallway was a being who looked like a woman, in heels, curled hair pulled up and in white clothing, with large bell sleeves, the being was holding a large, clear and tall pitcher of water, so it seemed, far in front of them, one hand under the pitcher, and the fingers wrapped around the handle. They moved to the tub with purpose.
"The Archangel Michael?" Octaviius questioned, looking to Beelzebub in confusion. "That seems unlikely." He offered; why was he here? Did he know? Was he going to kill him? He is the Archangel of Justice, a Warrior.
"Cooperation with our old enemies." Dagon smirked, her teeth sharp as she looked all too pleased with herself. As if nobody had ever thought about that before, to team up with the enemy, for an angel and a demon to work together.
Octavius held back an evil, yet still angelic grin, 'you haven't a clue.' He thought, his mind on The Arrangement.
"Well, wank-wings, you brought the stuff?" Questioned Hastur.
("I swear angel, Ligur and Hastur were a thing! If demons could get married, myself excluded, they would be married! For demonic couples who don't understand love, or friendship, they were cute. Look, Hastur will be wanting revenge..."
"I would want revenge too if someone killed you, Jedediah."
"Never said I didn't see where he's comin' from. Would kill everyone if they killed you, angel...")
"I did." Michael answered, and held out the vase of liquid for them. The Archangel kept his face stern, and tense, not showing his disgust and anger, "I'll be back to collect it."
Octavius knew how Michael acted, he could see the Archangel's tense shoulders up to his ear, he could see his grimace and pulled down lips. He couldn't hide the discomforted shuffle. It was rather amusing to the Principality.
"No," Hastur denied quickly, tense as he leaned back, as if burned. A rather funny sight. He sucked his teeth, "I think perhaps you ought to do the honours. It's..." He glared down at the serpent demon that was on trail, "I've seen what that stuff can do."
Archangel Michael stared at them all, a blank look in his eyes. He raised his arms, spread out, mimicking that of Jesus on the cross, and steadily tipped the jug, and began pouring the crystal, sterile, clear and clean contents of the jug into the tub, and it splashed, and sloshed, droplets backfiring and hitting the sides. The demons behind the glass recoiled, and some even had the decency to look horrified, and they yelled and grunted in fear, as if they felt the pain, while recoiling in terror.
Octavius stared, he kept staring, blankly, at least he hoped it was blank. Sadly, he knew he was probably grimacing. He stare at the tub, and... is that? Surely not, but even if it is, 'we were right.'
"You don't get this view down in the basement." Said a lower level demon, and... not Octavius, and certainly not going by Principality anymore, but Jedediah-as-Octavius, didn't look up and instead stared at Gabriel, not giving him the satisfaction. He only glanced when the demon was in his side view.
It was an incredibly low demon, one of them Disposable Demons (Eric or Legion if you prefer), (to be fair, he always liked them, they were very nice and kind. Hilarious in a way, and the least threatening of demons. ("Selfies, mate! Blood genius!" Eric cried out, hugging Jedediah with a smile.)) He marched up to a ring of white brimstone's, put there by Sandalphon and Uriel ("ask questions, only when necessary."), (when asked, Sandalphon simply responded with, "barbeque.") and threw down a bunch of black powder from a black, faded cauldron. The white stones lit up, and it went up in flames, a tornado like fire of red and orange ribbon and string, and Jedediah stared.
("They won't give you a trial..."
"But it's Heaven, why would—"
"Don't... Heaven's not good... and, I've been an idiot to think other wise!"
"... all right, no trial...")
He swallowed back a lump in his throat, feeling the heat light up Octavius' deep ivory face, as he thought back to the book shop, the fire, his best friend and husband dead, and he tried to hide how he tensed up. He stared it up and down, and he tightened his hands into fists, he could feel the darkness squirming off of it, and he stared, "that's Hellfire." That's how they planned to get rid of Octavius, with Hellfire, to let him shrivel up and burn to death, into a pile of nothing, to a pile of ash. At least they were right...
"The hell-iest of Hell..." Assured Sandalphon with a nasally voice.
"Can I, can I ask a favour? Can I hit him?" Asked Eric suddenly, looking to Jedediah, who looked even more unimpressed now. "I've always wanted to hit an angel." He explained, looking to Uriel and Sandalphon.
The two Archangels shared a look of confusion, but then turned back to Eric.
"Go for it." Sandalphon agreed with a careless shrug.
Eric nodded, chest hammering in excitement, and his gaze fell onto Jedediah-as-Octavius, who stared unimpressed. He could take the hit, and he would smile all kindly, but he would fucking kill him when he's back to being plain Ol' Jedediah. Eric moved in front of the demon disguised as an angel, and got ready, in a stance, fist pulled back.
Jedediah stared, and let his lips pull up into a small, kind smile just as Octavius would, fighting back a sneer of anger.
Eric stared, thrown off, but it didn't stop him. He shook his head. He pulled his fist back, and slammed it forward, harshly. Gold blood fell from Octavius' corporation lips, and Jedediah just kept smiling. (Thankfully, the demon and angel had the foresight to change blood colours just in case they fell, or cried, or anything like that.)
Eric smirked, and looked to them, "I should be going back."
(In an alternate universe, Eric pulled his fist back, but then froze. Jedediah-as-Octavius kept smiling, and Eric swallowed nervously, gulping back saliva. "I should be going back." He said, eyes wide and his face pale.)
Octavius-as-Jedediah stared in horror, hidden behind Jedediah's sunglasses, watching as Archangel Michael emptied the jug. He swallowed back the lump forming in his throat, he could feel the waves of holiness coming off of it, and all he could see was himself, giving his husband that thermos of Holy Water all those years ago, what he believed to be, at the time, a suicide pill.
The jug was now empty, the bathtub was filled.
"That's Holy Water." Octavius said, this was the way Jedediah was to die? With this?... of course, 'punishment fits the crime', of course Duke Hastur wants revenge, why wouldn't he?
"The holiest, yes." Assured Michael, his soft and angelic voice crisp and clear.
"Uh, it's not that we don't trust you Michael," Jedediah looked back, "but obviously we don't trust you." Beelzebub sneered, and ze leaned on the arm of zir chair. Ze watched as Archangel Michael left, taking the pitcher with him, holding it close to him. "Hastur, test it," ze demanded in a drawled voice.
"Hmm." Hastur hummed, and walked down the steps.
Surely not... the demon wouldn't sacrifice himself, just a drop of that water would be enough to kill him! Octavius turned to Hastur as the Duke walked past Jedediah's corporation. He moved to the small Hell Usher, and picked up the now struggling and panicking being. The angel stayed silent, though he desperately wanted to call out, to tell him to stop and that the Usher did nothing wrong, but he couldn't. No, that would give everything away! But, it did make him feel sick.
"What the Hell do you think you're doing?" Asked the Usher, as it dropped the goat staff, "oh, ow!" It yelped, it's tail being pulled. With a content sigh and hum, Hastur hovered the Usher over the water, and it tensed up in terror and fear, "no. No, no, no. What have I done?!" It called out, and Octavius stared, the terror in his... well, Jedediah's eyes, well hidden behind the glasses. "No, no! Please!" Begged the Usher.
"Wrong place. Wrong time." Hastur said with a sigh, as if apologising but everyone knew better, he wasn't. He quickly lowered the demon in the bathtub, so Hastur could back up when he needed to.
"Please!" It was dropped, "please! No!" It tried to leave, to escape, but it was too late, as it set on fire, screaming as it turning to sludge, it melted away into nothing. It vanished, as if it never existed.
Octavius felt red, bloody tears brim the waterline, and he blinked furiously. No! He's not crying! Demons don't cry, or at least, aren't supposed to (Lancelot will later tell him about how much Jedediah clearly loves him, and Teddy will say, "I've never seen the cowboy cry."). And, if one tear dropped and they saw, it would be known he wasn't demonic. To know this is what would have happened to his husband had they not switched, to know that was his Jedediah's intended fate... he felt the serpent pupils constrict to small dots in fear, as he felt sweat collect to his forehead, and his mouth pull down, his skin going white and his face dropping... those... those bastards! His Jedediah would die in agony, in pain, surrounded by people who hate him!
"Demon Jededish," sighed Beelzebub, and Octavius turned to him in silent terror. "I sentence you to extinction by Holy Water. Have you anything to say?"
At first Octavius was going to say no, wanting to get this over with, but then remembered, "um, well yes..." they waited for his last sentence. His goodbye. "This is a new jacket, and I'd hate to ruin it." He said, with a voice of ease and relaxation, "don't wanna get it wet," he smirked, his voice deep and slutty with the word 'wet', and he licked his lips hungrily. "Would you mind if I take it off?" He asked, shrugging and lips pulled down in thought, while his eyes were locked with Hastur, who gave a disgusted shiver. He had a plan...
"So, with one act of treason, you averted the War." Gabriel said, his lips pulled into a disgusted, large frown, as he shook his head.
Jedediah shrugged with Octavius' shoulders, straight in his seat, a smile still planted the lips, "well, I think the greater good—"
"Don't talk to me about the greater good, sunshine." Snapped Gabriel, cutting the demon off, and Jedediah slowly frowned, "I'm the Archangel fucking Gabriel. The greater good was we were finally going to settle things with the opposition once and for all."
'And, there you go... not so different now, are we?' Jedediah thought, swallowing back his anger, because how dare they treat his angel this way?! He wore a smile, a smile that disguised his ever growing rage. Well, he was trying to smile, but he could feel it turn into a blank look, or a scowl. He was nervous and furious now.
Uriel walked over, the gold glittering specks on her face, Jedediah noted, seemed to be infused with her skin. What he would give to reach out, and pull of each blessed fucking speck, he'd enjoy watching her bleed. The demon wasn't... Violent, much... scarce of a few occasions, such as Lancelot and Hastur... Wrathful at times? Yes. Tempter? Absolutely! But, to picture himself torturing a person, and taking pleasure in it? No, that wasn't him... much...
She bent down, and pulled the white ropes loose with a quick, minor miracle, "up."
Jedediah-as-Octavius stood up, steadily, and he rolled his wide wrists, checking them for rope burns. Nothing. He looked between the fire, his eyes soft in sadness, in fear and terror, his eyes lighting up, and he felt so small, and powerless, despite being tall, and he ignored the hammering in his chest, the awful reminder of the book shop, that these bastards had killed him... his Octavius would die in agony, in pain, surrounded by people who hate him! How could he walk in? How could he—? No, he has to, for Octavius, to get the angel out of this. He fixed the red scarf he was wearing.
"I don't suppose I can persuade you to reconsider?" He asked with a nervous yet pleasant smile, as Octavius would have done, he looked to Gabriel, Sandalphon and Uriel. They glared, not moving or changing their minds as they waited. He frowned in confusion, hurt and upset that they cared so little for the angel, "we're meant to be the good guys, for Heaven's sake!"
"Well, for Heaven's sake," Gabriel said, hands out. "We are meant to make examples out of Traitors. So..." He gestured to the swirling cylinder of fire, "into the flames." He clasped his hands together again.
They stood and watched him. With a tense sigh, Jedediah walked up to the wall of fire, keeping the fear and his panic attack well hidden staring into the flames. He smiled to them, "Right. Well..." He swallowed, "lovely knowing you all." His smile turned gracious and forgiving just like how Octavius would have done, "may we meet on a better occasion, for cake maybe."
"Shut your stupid mouth and die already." Gabriel said, with a wide, heavily sarcastic smile on his lips. That wide smile dropped, gone and replaced with a look of anger, all under a second.
Jedediah scowled in fury, the smile gone, unable to fully keep the act of 'kind, forgiving angel Octavius'. He stood with his back straight, as Octavus would have done, and with one final look to the Archangel's, walked into the flames as he silently asked. 'Why did I promise my angel I wouldn't hurt them?' He thought, and as he stepped in, as he saw Gabriel grimace with tightened muscles in discomfort, as if he was the one to die! An idea stuck him...
It was as if they were in perfect unison with each other, as if they could read each others minds. In unison, they came up with an idea, a plan. They smirked, and decided, if they were trying to kill their beloved, and possibly not leave them alone, then they might as well, 'fear him...'
Demons behind the glass window screamed and recoiled in terror and fear. Water splashed on the grimy glass again, and it seemed to steam and bubble under it's touch, and it dripped down the glass. It was sizzling, like bacon in oil and fat. The Holy Water burning the Evil's of Hell.
Duke Hastur felt sick with fear and terror, and looked like he swallowed something nice. Lord Beelzebub had coiled up in zir throne, knees up to zir chin, and was stunned into silence. Under-Duke Dagon was hiding behind the Lord and the throne, her eyes wide in shock.
There Octavius-as-Jedediah lay in the bathtub his feet on either edge of the tub, practically naked besides the black vest, black underwear and black knee high socks the demon wore, and he dragged his finger around the painfully (for Hell that is) clean, clear, rippling water. It truly was refreshing to be away from all that Evil, and take a nice Holy bath, look a warm shower, or a well meal, easing his slowly stinging skin. He looked at them, Jedediah's eyes were just as a serpents, nothing at all small or human about them, the entire white of the eye gone. "I don't suppose that anywhere in the Nine Circles of Hell there's such a thing as a rubber duck?" He questioned with a sniff, leaning up slightly.
He got no response, as he flicked another drop at the window of peeping demon, who flew back in fear with a screech. He leaned up to look at the Lord, Under-Duke and Duke, with a lick of his lips and forked tongue.
"No?" Pouted the angel, as he relaxed in the bathtub, "finally, treason will seize us!" He smirked, coldly as he gestured to himself, throwing himself up, as the water flew everywhere from the force, and he flung his handful of water at the demons that tried to execute his husband. He watched in dark, and less than angelic, satisfaction as Hastur and Dagon jumped away, stumbling over themselves, and Lord Beelzebub pressed zir back into the seat, curled up in a ball of terror.
'Fear him!' He thought in his head, loud and clear.
The Hellfire was truly... not Heavenly or Hell-ly, but Earthly. It coiled around Jedediah-as-Octavius, at it melted away the burns that the cleanness of Heaven gave him, and he rolled his shoulders with a pleasant, relaxing hum, his muscles easing. He cracked his neck with three loud sickening cracks. He looked up to nervous looking Archangels, who kept glancing to each other, tense and nerved, they then stared at him, as if this was the most horrifying thing to exist... and it wasn't. 'Not yet...' Thought the demon, as a sickeningly evil smile fell upon his lips
Jedediah scrunched Octavius' nose up like a snake, and wore a broad, serpent-like, twisted and evil smile, and let out a loud yell, spitting and spluttering a jet of Hellfire at them, a large blast of it shooting at them. He felt immense joy, as he watched Uriel, Gabriel and Sandalphon skip backwards, falling over themselves, with Sandalphon and Gabriel practically in each others arms. He smiled at them, eyes angry.
"It's very warm in here, Gabriel. Rather pleasant." Assured Jedediah, with glowering eyes, as he was pacing around the small circle tauntingly, "would you care to join?" He asked, tilting his head with a sickening crack, as he reached his hands through the flames, holding his hand out for the Archangel who alternated between purple and beige.
Gabriel backed up more in fear, as he stared at Jedediah-as-Octavius, and pointed nervously, "it may be worse than we thought." Sandalphon look to him, worried and Uriel rung her tie in fear.
Jedediah smirked and said, "ev'ry Judas once loved a Jesus!" He yelled, flinging his arms out in an 'embrace me' gesture. He laughed, as he flung Hellfire at the Archangel's feet again, just to scare them, 'fear him!'
Octavius-as-Jedediah hummed the tune of Mozart's 'Requiem, K. 626: Sequentia. Dies Irae', and he waved his hands, flicking the water about, and around onto the ground, wall and window, completely and utterly relaxed. He kept humming as he listened to what they were saying. Demons behind the glass whimpered in fear, moving away.
"He's gone native." Buzzed Beelzebub, watching Jedediah's body with a blank look of fear. Dagon quickly looked to the Lord in horror. Beelzebub just kept staring at Jeediah corporation in terror, "he isn't one of uzzzz anymore."
Octavius picked up handfuls of water, and again, threw it at the window of demons, who all screamed and backed up in terror, and he flung more at the window, flicking his fingers, and they screamed. "I'd like some privacy," the angel called, "do you mind?" This was fun.
"W-what is he?" Uriel asked, shaking her head in confused fear.
Gabriel let out a puff of air, shaking his head, and Sandalphon sneered in fear, watching.
Jedediah-as-Octavius gave them all an incredibly friendly, yet evil smile, "your worst nightmare. If I can withstand Hellfire, who knows what I can do?" He questioned to himself, and to mock them more, he closed his eyes and summoned all the magic he had and released two white wings (that belonged to Octavius), and covered himself, bringing them down. Octavius' eyes were shinning and glittering, and there was a bright glow over Octavius' head, a halo, that was more of a crown like helmet with red bristles on, and it was as bright as the sun, as the stars. The wings were suddenly covered in silver armour, the soft wings hidden, and there was now a red sash. "It's hilarious you think you stand a chance..." He mocked, as he glanced up, as if looking to God, making a big act of it, as if saying 'She's kept me down there for a reason, She's kept me alive for e reason'.
He relished how Gabriel shook in fear, and how Sandalphon gripped Gabrel's arm, and how Uriel nearly fell to her knees.
"You're probably curious about what else I am capable of." He hummed in fake thought, "and soon, you're all about to find out," Jedediah warned, voice dead with a cocky shake of his head.
He was lucky, nobody seemed to want to test that theory.
There was a ding, and heavy footed boots from behind the Hellfire twister, and everyone looked to the noise. There stood the Disposable Demon, Eric or Legion, holding the black and chipped cauldron for the Hellfire, and called out with a grin, "just 'ere for the—" He faltered in his steps, face one of horror, "oh, for Satan!" He saw Octavius' body dressed as a Principality, still stood there in the flames, with a very kind smile on his face.
Jedediah knew that Octavius wouldn't blame this low level demon, (but the demon would), so to maintain appearances he greeted the demon, still facing away from him, "Eric! My friend!" He called, his head thrown back showing his long neck, and his arms were thrown up as if stretching, one arm bent slightly, looking a bit like the woman from The Nightmare by Henry Fuseli. He looked to Eric finally, "do us a quick demonic intervention, will you?" He held out a hand out, "I need some moisturiser for my new tan!" And, oh Someone... he held back a laugh. The demon was doing it!
Eric shakily held out a hand, and there, in his hands was a bottle of moisturiser, and he shook holding it out, and the demon happily took it. He poked his head through the fire, looking between the Archangels and lower demon, and said, "I think you should leave me alone, huh? And, leave my husband Octavius alone too, yes?"
Slowly, Gabriel nodded a frown on his face, Sandalphon and Uriel fearfully nodded, and Jedediah looked to Eric, who nodded as well, shakily, swallowing.
"Good." He smiled, and wiggled like how Octavius would.
Octavius leaned the body over the bathtub and he smile, sniffing, "sssso, you're probably thinking, 'If he can do thissss, I wonder what elsssse he can do?'" He hissed out, as he took a handful of water and drank a bit of the water, and licked his lips with his forked tongue, and exaggerated movements. He remembered what Adam said, and let Jedediah's multiple eyes overtake his body, watching them all closely, "and very, very ssssoon, you're all going to get the chancccce to find out." He lay back again, but let the serpent eyes turn to the demons in the room. "There issss a reason SSSSatan cut off two of my wingssss," he reasoned, letting out a fake moan.
"He's bluffing." Sneered Hastur, as he moved forward, swallowing. (At this moment in time, he's realising the green plant mister with water in, probably did hold Holy Water, and he could have died, (though you know it didn't).) "We can take him!" He grumbled out, eyeing the hypnotic blue, serpent eyes warily and fearfully. What the fuck is Jedediah?! How high was he as an angel?! Higher than Satan who was an Archangel, that has to be for certain.
Lord Beelzebub looked positively sick, and ze looked everywhere. Dagon too felt ill, but was trying to hide it, unlike the Lord who getting more and more fearful.
"One demon against the rest of Hell? What's he going to do?" Hastur shakily questioned, taking one step forward, but that was as far as he went.
"Shut it!" Snapped Beelzebub, glaring at Hastur and ze stood. "Get him out of here, this'll cause a riot." Ze grumbled out panicked, as ze walked to the middle of the room, but stayed away from Octavius-as-Jedediah in the tub, ze leaned up on the tips of zir toes, looking over the tub, and looked to the demons, trying to give off that everything was fine. Dagon quickly moved to Hastur, to hide behind him in fear. Beelzebub called, "what are you all looking at? Nothing to see! Nothing to see here!"
They slowly began to move, began to leave, confused and worried about what had happened.
Octavius flicked more water at the window of demons, encouraging them all to flee, and so they scattered about with fearful yells, disappearing in terror. That got them moving quicker.
A ding of an elevator sounded, and they turned to the noise of clicking heels, Octavius turned in the tub. There stood Michael, a tense yet trying to be friendly smile on his face, as he turned to Beelzebub as he walked in, "I came to bring back the—" He turned to the dirty tub, his smile falling and pausing in horror. "Oh, Lord." He gasped out, voice wavering, frozen.
Beelzebub glanced back to Octavius-as-Jedediah in fear, a scared scowl on zir face, no longer taking zir eyes off Octavius.
"Michael! Dude!" Greeted Octavius in a very Jedediah way, and flourished a hand out, looking a lot like Adam reaching to God, in The Creation of Adam by Michelangelo. "Do us a quick miracle, will you?" He asked with a sniff, "I need a bath towel."
Michael reached out, oh good Someone! He was actually miracle-ing the blond a towel! He walked over, looking flabbergasted, and shakily held it out for him. Octavius gripped it, relishing how he kept at a distance, and he smiled evilly, 'no more two sides huh? Can't now that a demon withstands Holy Water.'
He leaned over the bathtub, elegantly holding the towel and looked at them all pointedly, with a kind yet twisted serpent smile, "I think it would be better for everyone if my husband, Octavius, and I were to be left alone in the future. Don't you?" He asked, his eyes soft at the temptation as he nodded. He made sure that no suspicion arose with adding his name in the mix, it was more of a 'hurt my things, I'll kill you' thing, and they knew that.
Beelzebub stared at him, and he nodded. Dagon nodded in shock and fear, as did Hastur who looked like he sucked a lemon, but was a bit more reluctant. And finally, he looked to Archangel Michael, and he stiffly nodded to the agreement.
"Right." He said, voice low and he smiled, scrunching his nose up in a twitch, just the way Jedediah does.
LONDON,
BERKELEY SQUARE
Berkeley Square was quiet that afternoon, and it was still sunny out, and the air cool and crisp. An angel and a demon sat on a bench in the middle of the garden. The two had gone to the Museum for an hour, before appearing in London.
"Do you think they'll leave us alone now?" Asked Octavius, slouched, half way down the seat, with one arm across the back of the bench, his voice a bit deeper.
"At a guess, they'll pretend it never happened." Replied Jedediah, back straight and his hands clasped over his stomach on his lap, his voice a bit higher and he sounded posh.
"Hmm." Hummed Octavius, "mine too... that's bureaucracy I guess..."
Jedediah looked around nervously, "anyone looking?" He questioned, tense.
Octavius placed the tips of his fingers to his temple, and sighed, "nobody." He looked to Jedediah, his eyes soft, "right, swap back then?" He held out a hand.
It was just like Agnes had told them.
Jedediah leaned up with an equally soft smile, and planted his lips against Octavius', and Octavius' outstretched hand went to his narrow waist, holding him close, gently.
They were playing with fire and would need to choose their faces wisely.
A black light came from ones lips, and the other ones lips were white, and it washed over them, morphing and phasing, like a line and cover, like a blanket, and as to not draw attention to themselves time temporarily stopped around them, and they phased from one to the other being.
And so they had.
Opening their eyes, they smiled. Jedediah was now Octavius, and Octavius was now Jedediah, back to their normal clothing. Swapping bodies had been the best decision, and prophecy the two had ever had, and seen. Octavius shook his body out, and Jedediah stretched his hand, the two feeling a slight tingle in their bodies from the mild possession - I suppose one could call it.
"Now that was playing with fire." Octavius smirked, watching as Jedediah messed with his collar.
Jedediah sighed, as he took the angel's hand, gently rubbing his thumb over the soft knuckles, "a tartan collar. Really?" He asked, looking to Octavius with a soft sneer.
"Tartan is stylish!" Defended Octavius, who did like tartan very much.
Jedediah blew his lips out, like blowing a raspberry but just with his lips without noise.
It fell silent, the two relishing each others presence, demonic and angelic. They were alive, their husband was alive.
"So, Agnes Nutter's last prophecy was on the money." Smiled the angel, feeling Jedediah's fingers gently tighten around his hand. Octavius grinned, "I asked them for a rubber duck..." Jedediah looked to the angel in shock, and saw how utterly delighted Octavius was. His angel looked to the demon, "and made the Archangel Michael miracle me a towel!"
Jedediah let out a loud laugh, that sounded somewhat like a serpent and threw his head back, while Octavius cackled playfully evilly, the two wearing bright smiles on their faces. But, that laughing soon turned into wheezing, and they leaned on each other for support.
"They'll leave us alone..." Smiled Jedediah, "for a bit." His smile softened to a tired frown. "If you ask me, both sides are going to use this as breathing space." He offered looking to his angel. "A chance to morally re-arm, and get the defences up. Get ready for the big one."
Octavius frowned, and looked to his demon, "I thought that was the big one?"
"I'm not sure. For my money, the really big one..." Jedediah looked around the park, to people who wandered the streets innocently, oblivious to the dangers around them, "is all of Us against all of Them." He said, throwing him and Octavius into the mix, they were better humans than an angel or demon.
"What?" Octavius followed Jedediah eyes, "Heaven and Hell against... Humanity?" He fell silent in thought, confused and worried.
"Right. We should go, and leave the garden." Jedediah said, turning to the angel, wanting him to calm down. The demon looked to the angel, and grinned, leaning into the corner of the bench, "let me tempt you to a spot of lunch?"
Octavius grinned, it was as if he was back on that Wall, back in the Garden, but this time the angel liked the temptation, and wanted to agree with it. "Temptation accomplished," He grinned patting his knees, and the two got up.
They began walking down the grass, Jedediah sauntering and Octavius strolling, smiling with soft eyes.
"Hmm... what about The Ritz, darling?" Hummed Octavius, his arm going around the demons narrow waist. "I think a table for two has just miraculously come free."
Jedediah smiled, and let out a pleasant, and giddy, "ah...!"
The Ritz was fancy, and bright, blooming with people, couples young and old, all genders, all sexuality's, and all ethnicity's. And one angel and one demon. A pianist in a black dress, played a familiar song on a white piano, Vera Lynn's, 'A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square'.
A waiter poured a glass of champagne for Octavius, and the angel smiled in thanks softly. The waiter moved to Jedediah, who had yet to stop watching Octavius with soft eyes, and poured the demon a glass of champagne too.
Octavius picked up his glass, "I like to think none of this would have worked out..." Jedediah looked over to him, as the waiter walked away, "...if you weren't, at heart, just a little bit a good person."
Jedediah could take being a good person, he liked that. He smiled, "and if you weren't, deep down, just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing."
Octavius smiled, and flushed lightly as he looked down shyly, he liked that, he could take being a bastard.
The demon raised his glass, and said with a soft smile, "cheers..." he stared at his angel, "to the world."
"To the world." The angel replied with an equally soft smile, staring at his demon, nearly choking up.
The two clinked glasses, the glasses ringing out, and sipped their champagne slowly, still smiling, as their golden wedding bands glistened in the light.
Perhaps the recent exertions had had some fallout in the nature of reality, because while they were eating, for the first time ever, a nightingale actually did sing in Berkeley Square.
Nobody heard it over the noise of the traffic, but it was there right enough.
"That certain night, the night we met,
There was magic abroad in the air,
There were angels dining at the Ritz,
And A Nightingale Sang In Berkeley Square."