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It’s a nice day in Tadfield. The sun is settling behind the hills and Warlock and Adam walk down a street flanked by trees, the latter’s bike rolling between them.
“I can’t believe you didn’t know how to ride a bike,” Adam comments. There’s no mocking in his tone, just plain recognition of a fact that surprises him.
“Ah, Nanny tried to teach me once,” Warlock replies, focused on his phone, “but she just encouraged me to run over people and I think she didn’t really know how bikes worked, either.”
“Oh.”
“Anyway, it’s not like riding a bike is a big deal. I don’t care about it that much,” he shrugs. “But… Thanks for teaching me. It’s cool that you did that.”
“Anytime. And… you know, even if you don’t care about it, you totally can come hang out with me and the Them and…”
“Yeah, I don’t think I’ll do that. I bet you do boring kid stuff.”
“What do you do with your friends at home?”
Warlock shrugs again, putting his phone back in his pocket.
“I… My friends aren’t the ‘hang out’ type. We hang out at school and… that’s all.”
“Only at school?”
“They also come to my birthday parties… I mean, if there’ll be cool stuff, not just… doing nothing.”
He knows Adam must be pitying him in silence and he hates that. Since the start of the day Warlock has been trying to do this weird thing without realizing it. He’s being extra snarky and cold and quiet, just to see how much this kid can take. Most people would usually tell him to fuck off at the third attempt to start and actual conversation, but Adam doesn’t give up and he’s beginning to wonder if there’s anything he can do to make this guy angry.
It’s pathetic and it kind of hurts, because it’s probably the way he was raised, and if Warlock had the family he was intended to have…
Would have Adam been like him if the Dowlings were his adoptive parents? That’s a dumb question; the world would have ended. Would have Warlock ended the world if given the power to do it? Were Brother Francis and Nanny Ashtoreth the only thing that separated him from being downright evil?
“Hey, I’m hungry, wanna come to my place to have some cookies?” Adam offers, pulling him off of his thoughts.
“I don’t know, dude, wouldn’t it be… weird? With your… our mom there?”
One half of him is scared that Deirdre Young will drop her cup of tea as soon as he walks into the kitchen, eyes filling with tears as she immediately recognizes the son that was stolen from her arms. The other half is scared that she won’t.
“It wouldn’t be weird for me,” Adam dismisses the idea. “I know she’s my mom. It’s like… nine months against almost twelve years. You probably feel the same about your parents.”
Warlock wants to laugh bitterly at that. The closest one to make him feel like that is Harriet, but even her shallow attempts to play house by getting him involved in something that isn’t on a screen fall short against Mrs. Young’s genuine worry about Adam not coming home at the time he said he would. Thaddeus’ distant and most likely cheating arse doesn’t deserve to be a part of the equation.
Of course Hell wanted the Antichrist to grow up in a household like that. If Warlock had voices whispering words of encouragement to destroy the Earth as he slept, he wouldn’t have any reason not to do so. Ironically, Nanny Ashtoreth’s whispers of encouragement to destroy the Earth when he slept as a child were one of the reasons he couldn’t have done it. Because that would destroy her and Brother Francis, too.
“Can you make them my parents?” he asks suddenly.
Adam blinks.
“What do you mean?”
“If you can make Thaddeus and Harriet my parents. Like, my real parents. It’s what you did with yours, right?”
“I mean, yeah, but… all I did was making Satan no longer my dad. Nothing really changed. You already live with them, you have their last name, your birth parents aren’t reclaiming you… What’s left for me to do?”
“Can’t you like…make it biological?”
“Sorry, I don’t get it. You want me to put some DNA from them in you? That’s what you’re saying?”
“Basically.”
“But that wouldn’t make a big difference. That wouldn’t make any difference at all. It’s just… Wouldn’t you rather have your memory erased? So you wouldn’t know they’re not your birth parents?”
His response is instantaneous.
“No!” Warlock clears his throat, noticing how loud he was. “No, don’t… don’t do that. I don’t wanna forget Nanny and Fran-… I mean, Az-… Azira-… Ugh, the angel one.”
Adam tilts his head.
“What?”
“I… Are you sure the Dowlings are the ones you want to be your parents?”
“Who else if not them?”
No reply. They have to stop completely because Warlock chokes on his own spit.
“What the—… No! No, no, just… no. What are you even… Nuh-uh, no.”
“I was asking, that’s all.”
“Well, it was a stupid question. I’d never… They’d never… They’d rather die, discorporate, whatever.”
“They love you.”
“Oh, so now you can sense love, too.”
“I can’t sense it, but I can see it. And Crowley and Aziraphale love you.”
“No, they don’t. They don’t even like children.”
“Aziraphale likes everyone!”
Warlock stares at him in silence for a few seconds.
“He likes a lot of people. They both do. And you’re included.”
“For a day or two, not forever. They couldn’t stand having me around every day.”
“Didn’t you spend two weeks with them at the South Downs last month?”
“Yeah, but two weeks is…”
“Aren’t you spending next summer with them, too?”
“Well, yeah, but traveling around Europe, not at their house. Nanny doesn’t want me anywhere near his plants and…”
“Aziraphale.”
“Zebra fell doesn’t want me anywhere near his books.”
“Aziraphale doesn’t want anyone anywhere near his books.”
“It’s different.”
“Can’t you be with them without annoying them? They don’t ask you to put your phone down every three seconds, so… I think it’s fair.”
“It’s not just not annoying them. I… They’ve never been around me by choice. They just thought I was you and they had to influence me or something. If it wasn’t for that, I wouldn’t have met them.”
“And if it wasn’t for Crowley, I wouldn’t have met my parents. That doesn’t mean they don’t love me.”
“It’s different.”
“Maybe, but… Look, let’s forget they do have a choice now and they’re still there. Crowley alone has to care for you. You can’t deny it.”
Warlock frowns, intrigued.
“Come on, don’t you read comic books? So many villains were abused as children! So many real-life villains were abused, too. If he just had to make you evil, he could have…”
“Nanny doesn’t hit kids in general. It’s not just me.”
“He didn’t have to hit you. Your parents never hit you and Hell still thought they were a good option to make you evil. He just had to ignore you and make you feel alone. But he didn’t, even though it would have been easier, because…”
“Because…”
“He loves you. And Aziraphale loves you, too. They’re just weird, but they do care.”
Warlock rolls his eyes and keeps walking.
“Whatever, like I’d want them to be my parents, anyway. They’re like an old married couple that sucks face like teenagers.”
“They don’t suck face! Didn’t you see Crowley when Aziraphale kissed his cheek this morning? He was having a stroke.”
“Yeah, but they’re like… so disgustingly obsessed with each other.”
“Well, they’ve been crushing on each other for 6000 years.”
6000 years…
The thought hurts and Warlock doesn’t know why. He freezes again, feeling sad out of nowhere.
“6000 years against not even twelve of them…”
Adam’s expression changes to a guilty and concerned one.
“That’s not what I…”
“I won’t live long enough to see them care…”
“Warlock…”
“Warlock!” Aziraphale screams from the other side of the road, desperately running towards them. “Young man, are you trying to get your nanny and I discorporated? We’ve been looking for you for three hours. Where on Earth were you?”
“Sorry,” Adam apologizes, since Warlock can’t seem to find the words. “I was teaching him how to ride a bike. We should have told you.”
“Of course you should have! Warlock, I must insist, you are more than allowed to do as you please, just let us know first. We have a responsibility with your parents and… and we care! We don’t want anything bad happening to you.”
“I’m ok,” Warlock says.
Aziraphale rubs his temples, looking tired.
“Alright, please be back for dinner. You know how many meals humans in development need these days.”
“No problem.”
“And I’m proud of your… velocipede riding skills. I’ll see you at dinner.”
“Bye, dad.”
Aziraphale turns around and leaves, absently fixing his bowtie. Warlock looks at Adam like he’s ready to attempt homicide against the Antichrist.
“You totally made me say that.”
Adam raises both hands.
“I swear I didn’t.”
“You totally did!”
“No, I didn’t. I can’t control what you say. I’m not that powerful.”
“Oh, sure, you can manipulate my DNA but you can’t make me say something.”
“I never said I could do it.”
In the distance, Aziraphale stops. It hits him. And Warlock watches. One half of him is scared the angel will come back and ask him if he meant it; the other half is scared he won’t. But he doesn’t. He just shakes his head and continues.
“Anyway, it was nothing,” Warlock mutters. “It’s like when you call your teacher mom by accident. It doesn’t mean anything.”
He sighs and Adam lets him get away with it.
He decides that day that it doesn’t matter who his “real parents” are. Besides, having Adam as a brother… doesn’t sound too bad. But don’t tell him he thought that.
“He couldn’t have possibly mean it, could he?” Aziraphale says in distress. “It… it surely was nothing, right?”
“No, no, of course,” Crowley agrees, walking in circles around their room. “It’s… Children do this kind of thing sometimes. They call their teachers mom by accident and stuff. It… it doesn’t mean anything.”
“Of course, dear, of course…”
“And his parents are rich. I mean, why would he want us to be…”
“The idea alone is laughable.”
“They had him around for eleven years. We only were there when he was like… six?”
“You’re absolutely right, Crowley. It must have been nothing.”
“Of course, of course.”
They both sigh. In relief. They’re relieved this child could never want them as his parents. Even though having him as their child… doesn’t sound too bad. But don’t tell him they thought that.