Chapter Text
There were many things that should be known about the demon, Crowley. The first, and the one he tried to hide very well and yet failed very spectacularly, was that he was a good person. The second, that he tried to hide very well and succeeded, was that he didn’t actually rebel. He simply got too curious for Gods liking, though that wasn’t very hard in the old days. All he did was ask a few questions, and he was cast out like a possum found digging through garbage.
The third, was that Crowley did not like questions. Either asking, or being asked them. Three guesses as to why. Thankfully, he never had to ask for or about much anymore. He and Aziraphale had a sort of silent communication system that involved a lot of pointed looks. He would, on occasion, request things, but in his mind this was different from asking for something because a request is far more open-ended.
Anyway, I digress. There is one more important thing you need to know about Crowley, and that is what this particular story is going to be about.
—————
5 years before Eden
It was a nice day, in Heaven. Every day had been nice; it was rather impossible for there to be a bad day. That was the whole idea.
Raphael was going about his duties, overseeing the creation of new stars, tending to the healing herbs in his personal garden, general Archangel stuff. It was quite a pleasant time, as was to be expected. He had heard there was a new batch of angels being made today, these ones called Principalities. An interesting name choice, to be sure. It made the Archangel curious as to what unique properties they would hold.
There was always some kind of ceremony when a new subset of angel was to be introduced, and Raphael often found himself attending. He was usually the only Archangel who did, however, as the likes of Gabriel and Michael were always too busy for such frivolous nonsense, as they put it. What did it matter if they saw it or not? They’d end up meeting all the new angels anyway, so it wasn’t a big deal to them. Raphael always said he simply liked the spectacle, and while that was partially true, there was also his curious nature to blame.
You see, almost every angel is created differently. Not even just their general make-up and mould, they were each individually hand crafted by God Herself and brought into the kingdom of Heaven in different ways that would shape who they would become.
Raphael remembered his creation fondly, feeling the love radiating off of The Almighty as She finished sculpting him. She smiled at him, and told him to never be afraid. He still didn’t know what 'afraid' meant, so he assumed he had followed Her instructions well thus far.
He arrived at the ceremony hall, and sat down behind a group of lower angels, who happily allowed him into their conversation. They were excitedly chattering about the new angels. Raphael felt a fondness in his heart for the lower angels, he always liked them so much better than the other Archangels. They were kinder, seemed happier. Of course, every angel, regardless of rank, was happy. They didn’t know how to feel anything else. He supposed it came more down to personality.
The room hushed. It was time.
The light that seemed to emanate from everywhere grew brighter and brighter still, until they couldn’t see at all. None of them needed to close their eyes, blindness hadn’t been invented yet. The voice of God boomed through the large room.
"Welcome, my children, the Principalities of the Heavenly Realm, to your new home."
The light slowly faded, and there, standing in the middle of the room was a group of angels. They looked remarkably like the lower ranking angels, but Raphael was sure they had to have some special purpose or power to get a name like Principalities. It sounded important, at the very least. Big words like that generally did.
The ceremony continued, each of the new angels being gifted a name, a crown, and a sceptre by the various Powers attending. One of the Principalities, who had been gifted the name Aziraphale, tripped and fell on his face immediately after getting his name. He dropped his crown and sceptre, and Raphael quickly jumped over the bench in front of himself to help. Aziraphale looked awfully embarrassed, though he needn’t have been. It was common for new angels to have trouble with their footing at first.
"Oh- yes, thank you-" Aziraphale started, prompting Raphael for a name.
"Raphael."
"Raphael, yes," The Principality nodded decisively, before looking around in confusion, "um, you wouldn’t happen to know what I’m supposed to do now, do you?"
"Well, I suppose we should find you somewhere to live," Raphael smiled, "don’t worry, there’s no real rules to the living arrangements, if you find a free room that you like, it’s yours. Though, the Seraphim and Archangels like me do tend to end up with the better rooms somehow." The other angels eyes widened.
"Y-you’re an Archangel?"
"Yeah, but don’t fret. I’m the nice one!" He grinned, showing off a sharp set of fangs. It didn’t seem to phase Aziraphale, who smiled softly back.
"Well, I suppose that’s good to know."
"Would you like me to help you find a place, so you can put those away," Raphael gestured at the sceptre and crown bundled in Aziraphales arms, "and then I could give you a bit of a tour?"
"Oh yes, that sounds lovely!"
—————
3 years before Eden
Raphael had been so busy helping God build the garden she needed for the new creatures she was creating, he almost felt tired. He didn’t have that word for it, though, so he called it drained. Drained of energy, like a plant without sunlight. He supposed it was descriptive enough.
However, when Aziraphale asked him to go out stargazing that night, he couldn’t refuse. Aziraphale loved to look at the stars, especially hearing the stories behind the ones Raphael had had a hand in creating. Talking to Aziraphale was as good as resting for the Archangel, anyway. It certainly made him feel better.
Tonight, they spoke of the garden. Raphael told Aziraphale of his favourite of the creatures he had made. They didn’t have names, yet, but he had modeled them after himself. Long and thin, with scales, forked tongues, large fangs, bright eyes and slit pupils. He had made two versions, one with legs and no fangs, and what he considered the better version. He would probably tweak the legged one a bit so it wasn’t exactly the same, though.
Aziraphale paid rapt attention. Raphael didn’t know why the lower ranking angel enjoyed listening to him talk so much, but he supposed he didn’t mind. He rather enjoyed talking, as it were. The only other angel who really listened to him was Lucifer, but he didn’t let Raphael talk about stars or scaly creatures, he always steered the conversation towards things angels really shouldn’t be discussing.
Raphael wasn’t afraid, though. He finally learnt what that word meant when a small furry creature with long ears had run away from one of his creations. When he asked God why, She said the furry creature was afraid the scaly one was going to harm it. So, he figured ‘afraid’ meant ‘thinking something bad is going to happen’, which was close enough that he knew he hadn’t felt it yet.
He and Aziraphale ended up lying on the grass in silence, for a while. The observatory was a garden of its own, though of course all the larger vegetation was closer to the walls.
“What do you think the new creatures God is creating are going to look like?” Aziraphale asked, breaking the silence.
“Well, She said She was creating them in Her image, so I imagine similar to Her.” Raphael yawned. He may feel better, but he was still tired.
“What was that?” Aziraphale frowned.
“I’m not sure. I tend to do it when I’ve been working a lot and getting less sleep.”
“Huh.”
They fell back into silence, the stars blinking idly above them.
—————
1 year before Eden
The Archangel screamed.
There was nothing else he could do, as he plummeted closer and closer to the ground. His large black wings had stopped working, it seemed. He couldn’t even catch a breeze to slow his fall.
He had Fallen with a capital F. He knew he shouldn’t have enabled Lucifer’s fantasies. He knew he shouldn’t have questioned God. She always knew best, who was he to ask Her why She did what She did? This was all hindsight, however. Nothing he could do about it now.
He hit the surface of a boiling pool of something that smelt awful. His mind supplied him with the word sulphur.
He thrashed around in the sulphur as it seemed to seep into every part of his body it could. He felt like he was on fire, which he very likely was. His mind supplied him with the word Hell.
He kept screaming, and he faintly realised he could hear other screaming around him. This was the first time any of them had felt pain, or sorrow. He wondered what they had become, that God let them feel this suffering.
His mind supplied him with the word demon.
After what felt like an eternity, and very likely could have been, the pain finally numbed enough that he was able to drag himself to where he hoped some kind of land was. He crawled up onto the side of the pool, not unlike one of the creatures he had created.
He thought about Aziraphale. Of course, instead of wondering how he could help himself, he worried about his friend. Raphael seemed to be the only person Aziraphale trusted and talked to on a regular basis. What was he going to do now?
Raphael lay there for a while, trying to drown out the screams around him with thoughts of his friend.