Chapter Text
Anathema was in the kitchen preparing some snacks when the guest she’d been expecting knocked at the door. She crossed the room to open it, and had scarcely done that when Ruby barreled in while chattering a mile a minute.
“Your house is super witchy,” the teenager said, picking up absolutely everything within reach to examine it. “It’s like, super goals. I’m trying to get the boys to make me a tower.”
“A...tower, Ruby?” Anathema asked, glancing at her parents for help. They both shrugged apologetically. There was just no reining her in.
“Yeah, a tower. Think my room should be a tower. With a big spiral staircase.” She raised her arms and spun once as if indicating the rough shape of a spiral staircase. “Like a loft, but better.”
“We’ve said we’ll consider it,” said Aziraphale.
“It would be super goth,” Ruby continued. “And super witchy.” She put down a jar of eye of newt and turned her attention to Anathema. “What are we learning today?”
“We’re going to do a standard healing draft,” Anathema replied.
She raised her eyebrows. “Not poison?”
“No, not poison.”
She seemed exasperated by this, but kept her reasons to herself. “Alright, fine. We’ll do your healing thing.”
“I’ve got some snacks on the counter,” Anathema said. “Could you take them to the living room for me?”
“Cool, a task,” she said. It struck all the adults how hard it sometimes was to tell if she was being sarcastic. In either case, Ruby took off with the tray of cookies.
“So how is she adjusting?” Anathema asked, watching her go.
“She’s doing remarkably well,” Crowley said. “She still has nightmares, but they’re fewer these days.”
“She’s coming along really well with her magic,” Anathema said.
“Yeah, she is,” said Crowley. “She still struggles a bit with the bigger stuff, though. She’ll get there.”
“The truth is, this whole experience has changed her,” Aziraphale added. “She’s so far removed from the scared little girl with the pepper spray we met all those months ago. She’s actually made herself very comfortable in this new life. She’s still a bit jumpy-”
“But that’s just out Ruby,” Crowley interjected.
Aziraphale fidgeted. “I do worry that when things upset her, she stops regulating her magic so well...but we’ll get her there.”
“Do things upset her often?” Anathema asked, worried.
“Not often,” Crowley assured her. “She’s mostly alright. She sometimes gets annoyed and frustrated as any teenager might, but it’s only when things - what’s the word - trigger her that it becomes an issue. We work hard to make her feel as safe as possible, but we can’t stop her from having nightmares. We also can’t stop her from being anxious when she thinks she might be annoying us. We just have to reassure her when that happens.”
“It’s not as if every time she watches a sad movie, she affects the local weather patterns,” Aziraphale interjected. “It’s deeply tied to her personal feelings about herself. And we really hope that getting her into drama school will help restore her confidence.”
“You think she’s ready?” Anathema asked, nervously. “If she’s still having trouble controlling herself-”
“I think we have to trust her,” Crowley said.
“We can’t keep her locked away,” Aziraphale said. “As much as we might fear what might happen out in the world, she needs to have experiences and be around people her own age. Locking her up might just make things worse. Of course we’ll keep an eye on her to make certain she’s adjusting well, but we can’t start sheltering her now.”
“As if she’d let us if we tried,” Crowley added.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” Anathema said, fishing a newspaper from her bag. “I saved this copy of the Daily Mail for you. Thought it might give you a chuckle.”
Crowley took the paper while Aziraphale looked at it over his shoulder.
Devil’s Advocate, it read. Inside the Evangeline Lorde case.
“It all reads like that,” Anathema said. “A bunch of false and inaccurate information that is so far out there that it’s almost funny.”
Aziraphale nodded. “I mean it is the Daily Mail.”
“Devil’s Advocate,” Crowley repeated the headline. “I just hate that. Fox News was throwing that around all the time too. What they intentionally misunderstand about the whole situation is that it had nothing to do with religion for me. It was all about justice. Helping Ruby and other people like her. The Devil has enough advocates. These girls never even had one. I was only ever Ruby’s Advocate.”
“Ruby’s Advocate,” Ruby mused as she came back into the room. “I like that. It has a nice ring to it.” She looked at Anathema expectantly. “Magic time?”
Anathema couldn’t help but smile at Ruby’s eagerness. “Magic time.” She looked at Aziraphale and Crowley. “Aren’t you two taking off then?”
Aziraphale and Crowley had made plans for the afternoon, which had sounded like a good idea at the time. But now they found themselves faced with the real possibility of time apart from their daughter for the first time since they’d had her...and the concept put them a little on edge.
Aziraphale fidgeted. “Are you certain you’ll be alright?” he asked.
Ruby groaned. “Dad, I’ll be fine. We talked about this.”
“We can stay if you need us to-”
Ruby was exasperated, but very touched by his concern. “Dad, you told me yourself that you’ve been putting off this picnic for half a century. I want you to have a nice time. Don’t worry about me. I’ve got Anathema. Anything happens, she’s got my back.”
This alarmed Aziraphale more. “You think something is likely to happen?”
“That reminds me,” Crowley cut in. “I brought you something.” He reached into his pocket and retrieved a small spray bottle that was small enough to be held in his hand. He held it very delicately as if it were a very volatile explosive. “Be very careful with this. We don’t know how - or if - it will affect you.”
She took it. “What...is it?”
“Holy Water,” said Crowley. “I don’t anticipate anything happening, but if it did...I’d want you to be prepared.”
“In case of demons?” Ruby asked, oddly touched by this. He wasn’t showing his anxiety outwardly, but Ruby knew how big of a gesture this was for him. He was trusting her to be alright on her own, but he wanted her to be able to protect herself when he couldn’t.
“In case of emergencies,” he said. “Be very careful with that.”
She stored the bottle in her pocket and hugged him. “Thanks. But I’ll be fine. Trust me.”
“We do,” Crowley replied.
Ruby pulled away. “Get a move on, then,” she grinned. “Have a nice picnic, or else.”
Aziraphale gave one more fidget. “You’ll call us if you need us?”
“Yeah, yeah.” She tried to usher them out the door.
“For any reason, you understand?”
“I get it, Dad, it’s fine, it’s good, now go.”
She closed the door behind them and leaned against it, sharing a look of exasperation with Anathema.
“They’re overprotective,” she shrugged. “Sorry.”
Anathema smiled and shook her head. “New parents. How will they ever cope on your first day of school?”
…
It was a very productive half hour. Anathema taught Ruby some basic potion-making and they had snacks. They would’ve spent longer working at the potion-making, but two pre-teens entered Anathema’s home without asking.
“Anathema!” called a young boy. “Are you home?”
“In here!” she called. “Did you bring the magazines?”
The young boy came in the room and threw them down at the table. “Yeah. Nothing good today. Same old stuff.”
“Ah, well,” Anathema shrugged. “Can’t always be an interesting news day. I believe I owe you cookies? Ah...biscuits, I mean?”
A young girl had entered behind the boy. “Chocolate chip,” she said. “That was the deal.”
They noticed Ruby.
“Who’s this?” asked the girl.
“That’s my sister,” Anathema said absently.
“You’ve got a sister?” the boy asked. “How come you never said? She don’t look like you.”
“Long story,” said Anathema.
“She got a name?” asked the girl. “Or can she not talk? Mum says sometimes people can’t talk and that’s not their fault, they can communicate in other ways.”
“Pepper,” Anathema said, patiently. “Are you implying that people who can’t talk don’t have names?”
“Well does she or doesn’t she?” asked Pepper.
Ruby was beginning to understand. “I’m Ruby. And you’re Pepper, I guess?”
“Yeah, that’s right. Pepper.”
Ruby turned her eyes to the boy. “Which of the boys does that make you, then?”
“Adam,” said the boy. He turned his eyes back to Anathema. “She’s English. How can you have a sister who don’t look like you and is English?”
“It’s a long story,” Anathema said again. She peered closely at the children. “Aren’t there normally two more of you?”
“Brian and Wensley are being lame,” Pepper said.
“Are they?” asked Anathema, worried that the children had had a falling out.
“They’ve gone on holiday,” Adam explained.
“Oh,” said Anathema. “Together?”
“Separate, just at the same time.”
“Alright then. Take your cookies.”
The two children took their treats. Ruby took a look at the magazines. She laughed derisively under her breath.
Anathema narrowed her eyes. “What was that, Ruby?”
“Nothing, nothing,” Ruby said, quickly. “It’s just...you don’t actually believe this stuff, do you?”
“I take it you don’t?” asked Adam.
“Not saying that, not exactly,” replied Ruby. “Just...where’s the evidence for some of this?”
“Like what, specifically?” asked Anathema.
She pointed at one headline. “Moon Landing Faked? Please. You know it would cost far more money to fake a moon landing than to actually send a crew to the moon? And the kind of laser equipment necessary to fake the footage didn’t even exist that year? I saw an Adam Ruins Everything about it.”
“Adam Ruins Everything?” Adam repeated.
Pepper nudged him. “Well you do .”
“It’s a web show,” Ruby explained. “Really fascinating stuff. No if you wanna look into real, factual conspiracies that have proof in ‘em, you’re gonna want to look at MKULTRA and Project Paperclip and even the Tuskegee Experiment.”
Anathema had to admit that she was impressed. “Where do you learn about all this stuff?”
Ruby shrugged. “I read.”
“What’s the Tuskey Experiment?” asked Adam.
“Tuskegee,” Ruby corrected.
“Something we’ll talk about when you’re maybe just a little older,” Anathema said. She took a sip of her tea. “Now if you wanted to do your own research about it and had questions, then your parents couldn’t really get mad at me about it, could they?”
Ruby continued flipping through the stack of magazines. “I just don’t get it half the time,” she admitted. “Like I get that it’s fun to believe in some of this stuff sometimes, but a lot of it is obviously a lie and probably hurts people.”
“I think sometimes it’s a good distraction,” said Anathema. “The people saying it don’t have to believe it, they just have to plant doubt. Then once there’s doubt, people aren’t looking so closely at whatever they’re doing. Think about what’s going on in America. Do you think Trump brings up the Clintons because he genuinely cares what they’re doing? His tactic is that whenever people are looking too closely at him, he’ll ask a deliberate leading question so that the news cycle will be too distracted by that to look at him. Sometimes a conspiracy theory is just a useful distraction.”
“I guess that makes sense.”
…
Some time later, Anathema had ushered the two children from the house.
“I think I’ll take off too,” Ruby said. “Thanks for having me over.”
“Oh,” said Anathema. “I expected you to stay a little longer. At least until your parents come to pick you up.”
“I can make my way home, I’ll be fine.”
“If you’re sure,” Anathema said. “You’ve got your spray bottle?”
Ruby smiled at Anathema. “What’s all this worry about demons today?”
“It’s not a specific worry,” Anathema countered. “I just don’t want to face the fury of your parents if anything happens.”
“What could happen? I’m immortal.”
“You will text me to let me know you got home safe?”
“Yeah, yeah…” She smiled wickedly. “Hey Anathema, wanna see a magic trick?”
Before Anathema could answer, Ruby teleported out of there.
…
Ruby was laughing uncontrollably when she arrived back at the cottage seconds later. She’d been learning how to teleport and was finding it easier than expected to pick up. She couldn’t always control it if she got over-excited or nervous, but she was getting there.
She immediately got out her phone and texted Anathema that she got home safe, but then was faced with the prospect of an empty house for the first time in months. Normally she’d be relieved and relish in the alone time...but the house just felt...empty. Boring. Lonely.
“Aw, hell,” she swore under her breath and teleported away again.
…
Aziraphale and Crowley were having a nice picnic in Devil’s Dyke, which wasn’t too far from their cottage. The anxiety of leaving Ruby behind had been hard at first, but soon they began to relax and enjoy the day. They ate a small meal then lay on their backs and talked.
“That cloud looks like a rabbit,” said Aziraphale.
“Does it?” asked Crowley.
“It does,” he pointed. “See?”
Crowley peered upwards. “Not really.”
“You never had any imagination,” Aziraphale teased.
“Never had…” Crowley immediately became indignant. “Never had any imagination? I have the most imagination, thank you. Got more imagination than you.”
“Prove it, then,” said Aziraphale. “Pick a cloud.”
“They all look like clouds,” Crowley complained.
“They are clouds,” Aziraphale said, patiently. “Tell me what they look like.”
“Besides clouds?”
“Besides clouds.”
Crowley resented this and peered upwards. “I suppose...that one...might look like a duck?”
“That one?”
“Yeah, that one.”
“Are you mad? That one is clearly a loon.”
He spluttered indignantly. “Yes, of course, my apologies for misidentifying a loon made out of evaporated water molecules.”
“I’m just saying, it’s a loon-”
“You’re a loon.” He muttered sullenly, yet they both knew he was enjoying himself.
Aziraphale propped himself up on an elbow and looked down at his husband. “Yes, but you married me. So who’s the bigger loon?” He smiled at Crowley and reached for him, tangling his fingers in his chin-length red hair. “Have I said that I love the fact that you’re growing your hair out again? I always loved it long…”
Crowley smiled gently up at Aziraphale and waited patiently for the kiss that he knew was coming. But they were interrupted.
“Sweeeet , strawberry shortcake? You got all the good stuff.”
They both sat up and watched as Ruby climbed onto their picnic blanket and began availing herself of the leftovers.
“How did you get here?” Aziraphale asked, glancing around. “Where’s Anathema?”
“Relax,” she said. “I teleported.”
“Teleported?” asked Aziraphale, pride entering his eyes. “How many attempts did it take you?”
“Just the one,” she said, clearly very proud of herself as well. “You showed me this spot many times this morning on the map so I’d know where you were, remember? Devil’s Dyke. Weird name. Is it technically offensive or is this like...reclaimed lesbian land or something?”
Crowley choked on his drink. “No, nothing like that.”
“Why’s it called that, then?” she asked.
“There’s an old legend,” Aziraphale explained. “Apparently the Devil was trying to dig a trench to flood the local churches.”
Ruby nodded. “A noble mission.” He looked at Crowley. “Any truth to it?”
“None,” said Crowley.
“The legend says that the Devil was thwarted by an angry rooster who crowed,” continued Aziraphale. “Which caused the Devil to think that morning was coming.”
“Yes, because we all know that Lucifer is terrified of sunrise,” Crowley said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Hang on, that’s actually not how I heard that story. I heard he was spooked by an old lady who lit a candle, which is somehow even more unlikely.”
Ruby had to admit to being slightly disappointed. “I thought there’d at least be some ritual sacrifice here…”
“Not that we’re not happy to see you,” said Crowley. “But why are you there?”
Ruby finished eating a strawberry. “I was bored.” A thought occurred to her. “Aw hell, I wasn’t interrupting something terribly romantic, was I?”
“Well…” Aziraphale replied. “As it so happens-”
“I can go,” she said, apologetically. “I really did mean for you to have a nice time, I just...forgot.”
“No, please, Ruby, stay,” Aziraphale said. “We like having you here. Could you tell us about your day - or, rather, hour and a half - with Anathema?”
Ruby brightened immediately. “Alright. I can do that.”
“Oh, before you do that,” Aziraphale said, pointing to the sky. “What shape would you say that cloud is?”
Ruby shielded her eyes with her hand and peered upwards. “A loon, clearly.”
She didn’t notice the satisfied smirk that Aziraphale gave Crowley or the eyeroll Crowley gave him in return.
“You’re both loons, clearly,” Crowley grumbled.
…
The end of July was fast approaching, and to stave off boredom Ruby would sometimes volunteer in the bookshop. Anathema came by one day to visit her husband.
Ruby showed her a page in a book. “I mean, see, look at this. The US government poisoned alcohol during prohibition. That’s real, that happened, people died from it. I’m just saying to pick real conspiracies with evidence to believe in. The ones you can’t prove are still fun, just like...rationalize a bit. ”
“But there isn’t proof that some of this stuff isn’t real,” Anathema pointed out. “You can’t put anything past the government-”
“Oh I don’t,” Ruby said. “I’m just saying…”
“You two should have a podcast,” Newt joked. “You could argue about conspiracies for hours and it would be entertaining.”
Anathema considered this. “Now there’s an idea…”
“I was joking,” Newt said.
“Yeah, I know, but...I do need a hobby…”
“I’d be in,” said Ruby. “If you wanted to do it. I’d pick a fake name or something, be totally covert.”
“Would she be allowed to do that?” Anathema asked Aziraphale and Crowley.
“If she wants,” shrugged Crowley. “Any objections?”
“None,” said Aziraphale. “I can’t bear the thought of you doing a podcast by yourself, Anathema. You need a moderating voice. And Ruby does her research and finds actual proof. It is amazing, Anathema, that you can somehow come off as even madder than Ruby.”
“Just do me a favor and don’t go all Alex Jones,” Crowley said. “I mean American Alex Jones, not Alex Jones from the One Show. Make it a comedy show. Don’t be super serious all the time unless you have to be.”
A knock came at the door to the bookshop and they all did what they normally did - they ignored it. But the knock came again, more insistently, so Ruby glanced at Aziraphale and shrugged before going to answer it.
“Listen, mate, we’re closed-” she began, before taking a closer look. It was a teenage girl who appeared quite disoriented and was swimming in and out of focus. “Oh. You’re one of those. I’d wondered when you’d show up.”
“Help me,” the girl said in what sounded like an old-timey New York accent.
Ruby took in the girl’s state of dress, noting that she was dressed like a flapper. “Yeah, see, that’s not gonna happen right now. I’m kinda busy trying to have a life. Unless you died at a fancy dress party, I’m gonna guess you’ve been dead a long time. You can wait a little longer. Come back during business hours.”
“When’s that?” the girl asked.
Ruby shrugged. “I don’t know, we don’t really keep hours. Point is, I’m not letting you people get in the way of me having a life. I’m not your teen heroine. I’m just a person. So if I decide I have time to look into whatever happened to you, I will. During business hours.”
She closed the door behind her.
“What was that about?” Aziraphale asked, absently.
“Ghost number one, apparently,” Ruby shrugged, crossing the room to sit down next to Aziraphale. “I told her I’m busy, try again later.”
“Wait, there was a ghost?” Newt asked.
“Yeah, didn’t you hear it knocking?” Ruby asked.
“I didn’t hear any knocking,” Anathema interjected.
“The mortals likely couldn’t hear it,” Aziraphale explained, sipping his tea. “It happens.”
…
Aziraphale and Crowley escorted Ruby back out to the car a short time later, Ruby chattering away happily the entire time.
“Oh and I was watching this mini-doc on Youtube about fungus and apparently some types have like hundreds of genders?"
"Is that, as the kids say, 'mood', Crowley?" Aziraphale teased.
"Pretty much permanently," Crowley smiled.
"Fungus is actually really cool," Ruby continued obliviously. "I still really like those little glow-in-the-dark mushrooms..."
She trailed off as her eyes landed on something. The air instantly began crackling with electricity and storm clouds began to gather.
“Ruby?” asked Aziraphale. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” she said, in a low voice.
“Ruby, you’re clearly upset,” said Azirphale. “If you told us why, maybe we could fix it.”
“Ruby,” Crowley cut in. “Your eyes...They’ve gone all red.”
“What?” she snapped.
“Your eyes. They’re not green anymore.”
This surprised her so much that she tore her eyes away from what was upsetting her and looked in the rearview mirror of the bentley. She caught a glimpse of her own red irises just before they cooled to green with shock again and the storm that had been kicking up died down.
“Wooooah,” she breathed. “That’s super weird.”
“You were very angry just then, kitten,” Aziraphale said. “What happened?”
She crossed her arms. “Nothing. It’s nothing. Stupid.”
“Bet it’s not.”
She sighed and pointed at a bench. “Look at that!”
Aziraphale and Crowley looked at the bench in confusion.
“It looks like a bench,” said Crowley.
“You see those bars in the middle?” she asked.
“The arm rests?” Aziraphale asked.
“That’s not what they are.”
“What... are they then?”
Ruby tried her best not to get annoyed. “They’re meant to keep homeless people away. So they can’t sleep there. Because they’d rather spend money making homeless lives worse than actually trying to fix the root cause. They’d rather treat homeless people as disgusting.”
Her parents all at once understood what was upsetting Ruby about this.
“You have a safe home now,” Aziraphale reminded her. “You’re not sleeping rough anymore, and never will.”
“Doesn’t mean I stopped caring.”
Crowley nodded. He snapped his fingers and blue flames erupted on the metal bars, melting them down completely. “Better?” he asked Ruby.
She smiled at him gratefully. “Much. Thanks.” She got in the car.
Her parents followed suit. “You know we are going to have to talk about what just happened with your eyes, Ruby,” said Aziraphale.
She sighed. “I know. But not now.”