Work Text:
As a principality, Aziraphale wasn't in charge of much. And before God's creation of the earth, there really wasn't much to be in charge of.
This meant two things.
Firstly, that Aziraphale, while enjoying being in God's Grace, did not have many connections with other angels. Try as he might, he found he much rather enjoyed sticking by himself, his imagination blooming stories in his mind. (Books had not been invented yet, after all.)
And secondly, Aziraphale had a lot of time to watch. He rather enjoyed this. Nothing could quite beat the sight of thousands of joyful angels bustling about. However, when he could, he stole glances at one particular angel that shone more than any other in his eyes.
For one thing, he quite literally did shine, most angels with a higher ranking did, but the object of Aziraphale's infatuation seemed to him a blinding light - beautiful to gaze upon, but causing one's chest to tighten with unidentified emotions.
It wasn't as if he sought the other angel out, he certainly did not want to come across as sketchy. (Could angels even be sketchy?) But that didn't stop Aziraphale from instead seeking out... convenient reasons for the two of them to be in the same vicinity.
He was there for the revealing of the star cluster the angel had helped build. He was there for all of the angel's fascinating talks on his hopes for the earth soon-to-be. He was there for the angel's small get togethers where he simply played music with the other angels. (He had begun working on a new instrument. The harp, he'd decided, lacked excitement.)
These were never planned events, of course, and yet Aziraphale never missed a one. He told himself that the feelings inside of him were purely admiration, nothing more. After all, what else could they be?
But then, it happened. Something was off. Hoards of angels who were previously filled with joy and exaltation began to second guess, asking questions. Questions Aziraphale had always held but had never given voice to. Questions that tipped the balance of trust, hostility breaking out between those who asked and those who tried to silence.
And, oh, Aziraphale knew he should choose a side, he knew that, but to choose a side seemed too... permanent. It terrified him.
His heart ached to see that even that brilliant light he had been chasing was trying to make peace, not quite fitting on either side, but unwilling to see his comrades split in this way. Aziraphale took comfort in this, feeling a little less alone. But because his light had spoken out, he was grouped in with the questioners and his side was chosen for him. So Aziraphale stayed quiet, a decision he would regret for the rest of his life.
As a final test, every angel was told to line up and state where their loyalties lied. The whole ordeal put Aziraphale into a great state of panic, causing him to slip away to his usual hideaway, knowing fully well they had a list and that he would be called upon at some point.
Aziraphale exhaled quietly, sitting down softly next to a tree.
"You too, eh?" A voice sounded next to Aziraphale, causing him to jump in surprise.
"Oh- oh dear," Aziraphale said frantically. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize someone else was-" He stopped short. The face he saw in front of him caused his heart to hammer loudly inside of his chest. His shine was duller than normal, but Aziraphale wouldn't mistake him for the world.
"Nah, 's alright," the angel said. "I could use some company right about now."
Aziraphale shifted nervously. "What about the uh-" He didn't finish, but he sensed he had been understood.
"The sorting," the angel replied, smiling a bit sadly. "Seems hardly worth it, at this point. Because of my big mouth, I doubt they'd even believe me if I said I was loyal to this place. I don't even know if I truly am. I have so many questions. Maybe if I just got some answers, I'd know where I stood."
"Some things," Aziraphale commented quietly, "aren't for us to know."
"You really believe that?" he asked with a slight smile, the question itself sounding truly genuine. "You're a better angel than I am, I suppose."
"Oh, heavens no, my dear, I didn't mean-" Aziraphale's voice caught in his throat. He had just called the angel he admired most "my dear," and he felt a very sudden urge to flee. But the angel's gaze stilled him.
"You're a very quaint fellow, aren't you?"
Aziraphale let out the air he'd been holding in his lungs. "Well, yes... Yes, I suppose I am." They both chuckled together lightly.
"You know, I..." Aziraphale began quietly. "I've had so many questions, too... I just wish I was brave enough to ask them... like you."
"I don't know if I would call what I've done brave," the angel confessed. "Perhaps I'm simply too curious. I don't regret asking them. At least now I know it's near impossible to find anyone who will compromise. It just feels like I'm caught in the-"
"Middle?" Aziraphale asked, his voice taking an almost desperate tone.
"Yes..." he replied with a sad sparkle in his golden eyes that caused a lump to form in Aziraphale's throat.
The two sat and talked for what felt like ages. (The concept of time was not something they really thought about.) Aziraphale found a kindred spirit in the angel he had so admired for as long as he could remember. He felt as though he could tell him anything and be understood completely. It was something he had never experienced before.
"Aziraphale," a stern voice called suddenly, breaking the two out of their trance. They looked up to see one of the archangels who was emitting a light so bright that it hurt Aziraphale's eyes, so unlike the soft and inviting brightness of his new, dare he say it, friend.
"Are you perhaps with him?" the archangel asked, his tone causing Aziraphale to curl his wings in on himself. But not in fear, it was a new feeling to him, anger.
"He's not," the angel next to him declared defensively. "Ahh," his voice took on a new sound, one entirely different from the soft and kind one he'd used with Aziraphale. "I tried to convert him to our side, but he just wouldn't budge. Real loyal, that one. Lucky to have him."
The chill that creeped down Aziraphale's spine was threatening and unlike anything he'd felt before. Was that whole talk-
But the angel turned to him with a sad and protective smile. You're a good angel, the expression seemed to say. Don't get stuck with a crowd that doesn't deserve you.
And Aziraphale understood, and the chill he'd felt was replaced with a sinking feeling, and oh, how he wished his blasted tongue would speak, advocate for the only angel, he'd felt, appreciated and understood what he said, no matter how stupid or blasphemous it sounded.
But he felt frozen by an unknown force, desperately pleading with his eyes for the angel to reconsider, but his pleas fell on a deaf heart. He had already decided, and there was little else Aziraphale felt he could do.
"Get away from him!" The archangel's wings flared angrily at Aziraphale's light, causing Aziraphale's heart to reach its breaking point.
"'Course, 'course," his angel said, his mouth turned up in a frighteningly mischievous grin. "Should be heading back now, huh?"
"Come with me, questioner," the archangel ignored him, gesturing to the small cove's exit threateningly.
"Right, peace be with you and all that, I'm coming."
The archangel let out a slight growl before turning on his heels, giving one last look at both of them before exiting.
"Suppose I'd rather be off then," the angel said quietly. Aziraphale felt his throat constrict. It was unfair, this angel hadn't done anything wrong, why did he have to pay for what others had done? He felt tears threaten to leave his eyes before a gentle hand came to brush them away. "None of that, I don't deserve the tears of someone as pure as you."
"Maybe you don't need to deserve them," Aziraphale replied almost in a whisper, those words being all he could manage to say.
The angel chuckled. "Well, guess I ought to say thank you, then, huh?" He placed his hand on Aziraphale's head before getting up to leave, sparing one last glance behind him. "Oh, and Angel?" Aziraphale looked up through bleary eyes. "I'll shine as bright as I can, so look out for me, huh?"
And with that, he was gone, leaving Aziraphale in the silence that he was used to but that felt horribly empty now.
The angel hadn't been lying, for not long after that, the roar of fighting had ended and Aziraphale watched as a multitude of former angels fell from the heights of heaven. And in their midst, a light stronger than any Aziraphale had ever seen blazed like a comet, a beautiful incomparable explosion of an archangel's last defiance, going out in style even when he was losing so much in the process.
Aziraphale brought his hands up to his face, choking out a sob as he willed one last blessing to reach what had been his only solace in this suddenly unmerciful and empty palace. The brightness that he'd once found beautiful was now too much, making his head hurt, and all he wished to do was see those soft golden eyes once more.
I'll find the middle ground, he thought firmly. I'll find you there again, my dear.
______________________
"Angel," Crowley called out, concern lacing his voice.
Aziraphale looked up sleepily. "Yes, my dear?"
"Are you okay? You were staring at my eyes for ages. Are you crying?"
"Mmm," Aziraphale acknowledged softly. "Just slipped into a memory I suppose. You really are a softie, aren't you?"
Crowley scoffed at that, sitting back in his chair, but Aziraphale thought he saw a brightness in the demon's golden eyes that brought a gentle smile to his face.
"How about dinner?" Aziraphale offered, sitting up to look at Crowley properly in his slouched position.
"Your treat?"
A laugh escaped the angel's mouth. "Very well. Oh, and Crowley?"
Crowley looked across the coffee table as he stood up. "Yes, Angel?"
"Thanks for meeting me in the middle."