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Soho, London, 11 years before the end of the world
“Of course I don’t want it all to end, Crowley. I’m just not sure what you and I could possibly hope to do about it.”
“We do know where the kid is. We could try to… y’know, keep an eye on him. Maybe help him out?”
“... Help him how?”
“Well, I’m an angel. I’m meant to thwart you, yeah? And you’re meant to raise the kid to be evil. What if I thwart you by, y’know, influencing him towards the light, or whatever?”
“That… that might work, actually. Hm. That’s not a terrible plan.”
“Not a terrible– oi, my plans are great. It'll work, bunny. You know it will."
"I don't know. This has never been done before. We're attempting to thwart the Great Plan. That's– I don't know if it'll be possible, Crowley."
"We have to try. We can't just let it all burn."
"I don't want that any more than you do. But… oh, you won't get in trouble for doing this, will you?"
"Nah, I’ll be fine. Like I said, I'm thwarting you. S'very angelic. Besides, I’m almost positive Heaven will want someone to keep an eye on the kid just as much as Hell does. Just basic strategy, yeah? Man on the ground."
"I suppose. So, then, we'll help raise the boy, with me attempting to influence him towards evil and you doing your best to cancel me out?"
"Sounds about right. We'll get started on it tomorrow, yeah? Right now, I just want to get drunk."
"How very unangelic of you.”
"I'm off the clock. So're you, bunny. We'll worry about it tomorrow. We've still got eleven years, yeah? We've got this. Done harder things before.”
“I’m quite sure that that’s not true.”
“Oi. Stop being pessimistic, that’s my job. Now let's talk about something else, yeah? Get our minds off it for a mo’."
"Very well, then. Oh! Did you see what happened with that cinematographic show I was working on?”
“Movie, bunny, just call it a movie, for God’s sake. You do that on purpose, don’t you?”
“I will admit to no such thing.”
“You’re ridiculous. So what happened, then?”
###
Within the next week, a nanny with soft blond curls, black gloves, and Welsh accent arrived at the Dowling estate. Two days later, a red-headed, Scottish gardener dressed in all white began tending the grounds. The nanny made sure to take the Dowling’s young son on plenty of walks in the gardens, and the gardener always seemed to be nearby when she did so. Of course, rumours spread amongst the rest of the staff, especially since the visits only seemed to grow more frequent as time passed. Neither responded to the (many, many) attempts at flirting made by the various drivers, cooks, butlers, cleaners, and aides of any gender, and that only added fuel to the rumour-mill.
Nanny Fell and Mr. Crowley seemed content to keep aloof from the rest of the household, spending most of their time with young Master Warlock, which the rest of the staff seemed to agree was a good thing for the boy’s sake– his mother meant well, but she wasn’t very good with children, and his father was distant at best and uncomfortably overbearing and hyper-masculine at worst, so the poor boy was likely better off for having two genuinely nurturing adults in his life.
Warlock, for his part, loved his nanny and his gardener dearly. Sure, Nanny Fell was a little weird, always talking about how Warlock was meant to rule the world one day, and yeah, Mr. Crowley was always going on about how Warlock had to be kind and have reverence for all living things, and never destroy the world no matter how shit it seemed, and that could get annoying, but Mr. Crowley also had the best video game tips, and Nanny Fell made hot cocoa even better than the cooks did, so Warlock didn’t care that they were weird, and he didn’t care that they weren’t technically his parents.
Or, at least, he didn’t care, up until two days after his tenth birthday, when his mom told him that he’d be going away to boarding school for the term, and Nanny Fell was leaving.
As soon as Warlock’s mom let him go, he sprinted down the hall and burst into Nanny Fell’s room, making her jump.
“Why are you leaving?” he demanded.
“Oh, Warlock,” Nanny Fell said quietly, putting her book down with a sad look on her face. “I’m so sorry, my dear, I meant to tell you myself.”
“Why?” Warlock demanded, folding his arms and glaring at her.
Nanny Fell sighed. “You’re getting too old to have a nanny, my dear. And besides, I can hardly go away to school with you.”
“Are you at least gonna stay until I leave?” Warlock asked, almost desperately.
The look on Nanny’s face was answer enough.
“You don’t have to leave!” Warlock said, launching himself into his nanny’s arms and clinging to her almost desperately.
“I’m sorry, my dear boy,” Nanny said, holding him close. “But I’m afraid I do. If for no other reason than your father’s demands.”
“My dad is dumb,” Warlock grumbled. “You should ignore him.”
Nanny sighed again. “I’m afraid I very much cannot.”
“You and Mr. Crowley should be my new parents,” Warlock said, lifting his face up to level his best puppy-dog eyes at his nanny. “That way you don’t have to leave, and nobody has to listen to my dad, and it’ll all be okay!”
“I’m so sorry, my dear, but you know we can’t do that,” Nanny said, her voice still so gentle as she cupped Warlock’s face in her gloved hand, wiping a tear or two away.
“This is dumb,” Warlock snapped, though he didn’t make any move to pull away.
“I could write to you, if you’d like,” Nanny offered.
Warlock grumbled for a moment, collapsing back into the hug with a vengeance. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
“You’ll have fun at school, I’m sure,” Nanny Fell said. “You’ll make plenty of new friends, ones a lot younger and more fun than silly old me. Just remember what I taught you, yes?”
“I shouldn’t be scared of all the bullies, ‘cuz I’m gonna rule the world one day,” Warlock recited. “And when I do I’m gonna make you and Mr. Crowley my real parents because my dad is dumb and you guys are cool.”
Nanny laughed a little at that. “I’m sure that would be lovely.”
Warlock just squeezed her tighter in response.
After a long moment, though, he pulled back, wiping at his eyes and fighting back a sniffle. “M’gonna go play outside for a little.” Then he froze, his eyes going wide and his gaze jerking back to his nanny’s face. “Wait. Is Mr. Crowley leaving, too?”
Nanny Fell flinched. “My dear…”
Warlock launched himself out of his nanny’s lap and sprinted outside, quickly finding the secluded corner of the rose garden where Mr. Crowley was working today.
“You can’t leave!” Warlock shouted, latching himself onto Mr. Crowley’s leg and clinging on desperately. “You can’t, you can’t, you can’t. You have to stay!”
“Oh, kiddo,” Mr. Crowley said, carefully prying Warlock off his leg and kneeling down beside him. “I’m sorry. I don’t have a choice.”
“You’re leaving and Nanny Fell’s leaving and I’ve gotta go live in a big boarding school far away and I don’t wanna,” Warlock whined, launching himself into Mr. Crowley’s arms again. The gardener was covered in dirt, and so somebody was gonna yell at Warlock later about getting dirt on his shirt, but he didn’t care.
“I’ll miss you, hellspawn,” Mr. Crowley said, hugging Warlock back. “D’you want me to write, while you’re away? Keep up with how you’re doing?”
Warlock nodded, keeping his mouth closed in case he started doing something dumb like crying more.
“All right,” Mr. Crowley said. “I’m gonna miss you, hellspawn.”
“M’gonna miss you, too,” Warlock mumbled. “Are you sure you can’t stay?”
“Positive,” Mr. Crowley said. “I’m sorry. But you’ll be all right, yeah? You’ll make loads of friends, I know it. Bet you won’t even remember me, soon enough.”
Warlock snorted. “Yeah, right.”
“It’s true!” Mr. Crowley said, grinning. Then he sobered slightly, a small frown flitting across his face. “Remember what I taught you, yeah? Every human deserves a chance to try–”
“–no matter how sucky they seem, and I shouldn’t ever ever turn my back and let the world burn,” Warlock finished. “I know. I’m not gonna forget. I’m not gonna forget any of it.”
Mr. Crowley’s face softened. “I know you won’t. Now, whaddya say we spend a little quality time before I’ve gotta go? Go fetch your nanny and we’ll all play a game or two before you have to get changed for dinner.”
Warlock nodded quickly and darted off, running back upstairs to get Nanny Fell from her room. Maybe he didn’t have a lot of time left, but he was gonna make the most of it, no matter what.
Two days later, Mr. Crowley the gardener left the Dowling estate. Three days after that, Nanny Fell packed up all the books in her room and moved back to London. Warlock went away to boarding school, and an angel and a demon kept a careful eye on him from a safe distance, waiting. Just waiting.
###
Lucifer felt it the moment His little rabbit arrived outside the door to His chambers.
He let a lazy sort of grin spread across His face, waving His hand to open the door before Azra could knock.
Azra startled slightly, blinking, then hurried up to the base of Lucifer’s throne and bowed.
“Hello, darling,” Lucifer purred. “I assume you have news for me?”
“War– the Antichrist child’s eleventh birthday is only a few days away,” Azra said, straightening up, though he kept his eyes on Lucifer’s hands, rather than His face. Lucifer didn’t let His disappointment at that show.
Azra was still talking. “It– it seems as though everything is in place, for when he– he comes into his power, and everything, so–”
“You’re so far away, little rabbit,” Lucifer said with a sigh. “Come up here.”
Azra blinked again, then clambered up into Lucifer’s lap. He was tense and trembling, under the unending softness of him, and Lucifer raised a hand to pet through his hair.
“You seem nervous,” He said, rearranging Azra slightly so that he was pressed more fully up against Him. “What’s wrong, little rabbit?”
“I-I just– I just want this to go well,” Azra said quickly, staring down at his gloved hands, which were worrying together in front of him. “I’d hate for you to be disappointed in me, sir.”
Lucifer chuckled. “Oh, you haven’t lost the boy yet, so I’m sure you’ll be all right. Relax, darling. How about you bring your wings out for me? I’ll groom them. I’m sure you need it.”
“O-oh!” Azra said, sitting up suddenly, his eyes wide. “Oh, that– that’s quite all right, thank you, I’m fine, really–”
“I insist,” Lucifer interrupted, before His poor little rabbit could work himself up any further. So polite, he was, even after all this time. It was fascinating.
Azra bit his lip, then shifted off of Lucifer’s lap to kneel in front of Him, his wings sprouting from his back as he did so. They were ruffled and messy, and Lucifer tutted softly, running a hand through the feathers.
“My, my,” He murmured. “You don’t take nearly enough care of yourself, darling. You haven’t touched these since I last did them for you, have you?”
Azra shook his head as Lucifer got to work preening his wings.
“Well, aren’t you lucky to have me,” Lucifer said with a grin.
“O-of course I am, sir,” Azra breathed.
There was a knock on the door to His chambers, and Lucifer sighed and waved a hand to admit them, setting His other hand on Azra’s shoulder to keep the little rabbit from spooking and running off at the newcomer.
Beelzebub stepped into the room, paused for a moment, then rolled zir eyes and walked forwards. “The hellhounds are ready for you to choose from, my Lord. Whenever you’re done with... this.”
Azra tensed under Lucifer’s hand, his gaze dropping, presumably to his lap.
“I’ll be up shortly,” Lucifer said, rubbing His thumb along the back of Azra’s neck. “Is that all?”
“For now,” Beelzebub said, glancing down at Azra once more. Then ze bowed shortly and left, closing the door behind zir.
“Oh, my poor little rabbit,” Lucifer breathed, leaning down to whisper it in Azra’s ear. “Relax, darling. For me.”
Azra was there for another hour, and he never did manage to relax, poor thing. Pity, that.
Lucifer had fun anyways.
###
Gabriel stood with his hands clasped neatly in front of him, his shoulders in a perfect line with those of the rest of the Archangels. In front of them stood Coriel, or Crowley, or whatever he was calling himself these days, standing slouched with his hands in his pockets. Gabriel knew that particular habit prickled at Uriel’s sense of professionalism, but hey, Coriel got results, and so he’d never worked too hard to correct it.
“I’ve still got the kid under observation,” Coriel was saying. “His birthday’s coming up soon, and knowing… what we know, should give us an advantage, day of. I mean, Hell doesn’t know that we know where the Antichrist is.”
“And you’re sure about that?” Michael cut in. “If they know, then you’ve just wasted your last eleven years on Earth.”
“I’m positive,” Coriel said, flashing a broad grin. “I know what I’m doing.”
“Awesome!” Gabriel said, grinning and clapping his hands together. “Then, I think that’s everything…”
Michael, Uriel, and Sandalphon all nodded briskly at Coriel, then walked away. Gabriel made to do the same, but before he could, Coriel said, “Hey, Gabriel, can I… ask you a question?”
“Go for it!” Gabriel said, turning to face the Seraph once more and grinning at him.
“Right,” Coriel said. “Um. So. I know– I mean, I know everything is– is ready to go, on our end, yeah?”
“Well, we all have been getting ready for six thousand years,” Gabriel said. “Once the hellhound is set loose during the Antichrist’s birthday, Armageddon will begin, and then the real fun starts.”
“Yeah, yeah, ‘course,” Coriel said, flashing another grin. “Right. I was just, ah. I was just wondering… if something– goes wrong, what happens then?”
Gabriel frowned, taken aback. It wasn’t unlike Coriel to ask weird questions, or pose random hypotheticals, but this one was strange even by his standards. “Wrong? Nothing’s going to go wrong. Unless you know something you’re not telling me…”
“No, no, there’s nothing like that,” Coriel said, waving a hand as though to shoo Gabriel’s words away like they were Beelzebub’s flies. “Just... I guess I’m just wondering. Because, y’know, there’s been all this excitement around Armageddon and everything. If he… if he didn’t come into his power, if he… sent the hellhound away or something… what would happen then? There isn’t– there isn’t any sort of backup plan, is there?”
“The Great Plan doesn’t need backups,” Gabriel said slowly. “Honestly, Coriel, this is a bit of a new low, even for you. We need all hands on deck right now, buddy, I can’t have you jumping ship for something so… pointless.”
“I’m not questioning the Plan at all!” Coriel said quickly. “Promise, Gabriel. I wouldn’t. You know that. I was just…”
“Curious? Curiosity killed the horse, isn’t that what the humans say?”
Coriel muttered something, but Gabriel ignored it, choosing instead to grip the Seraph’s shoulder with one hand, holding him still. “Listen. I know you’re probably nervous about facing off against the armies of Hell, after spending so long just hanging around on Earth, but nobody’s gonna stop the War because you’re getting jitters.”
“I know,” Coriel said. “Why would I want to stop the War? There’s more than a few demons I can’t wait to see when it all goes down. I was just– y’know what, it doesn’t matter. Not important. Forget I ever asked, yeah?”
Gabriel grinned, clapping Coriel’s shoulder. “There’s the spirit! Now. I’ve got to go do some paperwork, and you’ve got to go do… whatever it is you do down there, I guess. I’ll check back in in a couple of days and make sure the whole Hellhound thing went smoothly, yeah?”
“Sounds good,” Coriel said, grinning back. He turned and walked off, calling “Ciao!” over his shoulder as he went.
Gabriel watched him leave. Those particular questions were odd…
Well, Armageddon would be underway soon enough, no matter what Coriel’s hypotheticals had to say about it. Then he’d worry about concerning questions from angels who should know better. After all, he was the Archangel Gabriel. He had nothing but time.
###
A couple of days later, a hellhound was released. A demon performed rather awful human “magic” tricks, and an angel kept watch for any signs of trouble.
And, in a little village in Oxfordshire, Armageddon began.