Archive of Our Own

With a hiss, Crowley stood up.

He watched the human cover his head and push himself as far back into the corner as he could, making himself as small as he could be. Crowley had seen this before, too many times to count. Inside this human man was a demon unlike anything native to this dimension. It was not a Fallen Angel but a psychopath whose evil was so great he’d transcended his own mortality.

What had been done to this human was not uncommon for what he did to his victims.

Worst of all, when this demon possessed humans, their eyes became a near-match for Crowley’s, so when he did find victims…he always needed some help to deal with them. If they saw his eyes, they would immediately assume he was really the monster tormenting them and panic or, in the case of this one, shut down entirely.

‘Leave me alone…’ he whimpered. ‘Please…just leave me alone…’

Crowley didn’t like to say he felt for the poor buggers, but he did.

So, he went to the phone and called Aziraphale, using a Miracle to bypass the international call charges.

‘We are most definitely closed,’ Aziraphale said immediately.

‘Angel, it’s me,’ Crowley told him, shuffling through the guy’s mail. ‘Bill’s at it again. I’ve found another one.’

‘Oh, dear,’ Aziraphale fretted. ‘Where and who?’

‘Stanford F. Pines,’ Crowley said. ‘Gravity Falls, Oregon.’

Bill Cipher was…a problem.

When Crowley had first encountered him, he’d sent a message to Aziraphale. He was unlike any demon the Angel had even seen before. Aziraphale had quickly realised he’d need help to liberate the human, who was all too willing to talk to him but cowered in fear of Crowley. He’d not known how to explain it, though, so he sent a message that he was with the victim and he didn’t know how to describe the entity possessing him but it was not a Demon as he knew them.

Gabriel had been annoyed enough at the vagueness to send Michael down.

Michael had been irritated at first, but then merely touched the victim and jumped a foot in the air. Bill’s evil was so deep and dark that it had alarmed even the most battle-hardened Archangel. Soon, Aziraphale had been sitting on the edge of the room with the poor victim as Archangel after Archangel (strangely, except for the one that he thought could do something) appeared in the room. (Crowley had long since fled the area when Aziraphale told him he was going to have to call up to Heaven.)

Bill could not be excised by Holy Light, by Divine Power, or by any of the usual means.

In the end that poor victim had been “put to sleep” to get rid of the monster in his head.

It had felt a harrowing blow to Aziraphale and he’d begun scouring the Earth. He found plenty of evidence that Bill Cipher had attacked before. Some humans even found ways to get rid of him. It seemed they were few and far between, but they were there. So the next time it happened, Aziraphale asked (and received) permission to try some of these methods.

Gabriel, clearly not expecting it to work but not wanting to interrupt the work as it had been last time, agreed.

Aziraphale (to Heaven’s shock – except Her, perhaps) was successful.

Bill could be exercised by a physical barrier being miracled in (usually a thin metal encasement around the skull), or by the much simpler method of strengthening the human’s mind. But, first, the human needed to be calm. They needed to be rational and even tempered enough to understand what Aziraphale was trying to do.

So, these days, he would send up a message with the words “Situation BC-Triangle” followed by the victim’s name and location.

One of the lowest-ranked Angels would then grab the victim’s file and drop it down into Aziraphale’s lap. Aziraphale would then peruse the file until he found something would calm the poor victim down – something that cut through the fear and distrust Bill Cipher sowed into the human’s mind.

Sure enough, ten minutes after he sent the message up, the file landed in his hands.

Aziraphale flicked it open, just before he popped across the Atlantic.

Crowley turned his head.

He’d been watching the nervous wreck of a human while he waited. He probably hadn’t slept or even washed in weeks. Crowley would even be surprised if he’d eaten much in that time. He turned his head as he heard a pop in the other room and, a moment later, Aziraphale walked in, file open in his hands.

‘Angel,’ Crowley said.

‘Crowley.’ Aziraphale tucked the file away.

Crowley never handled the files. There was too much risk of his Demonic scent getting on them.

Aziraphale slowly approached the human. ‘Hello.’

The human flinched and tried to curl in even smaller.

‘It’s all right,’ Aziraphale said. ‘I won’t harm you.’ He knelt down to the man’s level. ‘I will, however, need to touch you to be sure it is Bill Cipher we’re dealing with.’

The human slowly peeked out of the ball he’d made himself. Aziraphale reached out and laid a hand on his shoulder. He flinched against the evil impression locked into the man’s body. The man himself jerked away. Aziraphale withdrew his hand and just smiled at him reassuringly.

‘I can help you,’ he said. ‘I know how to fight him. I just need you to calm down.’

The man whimpered and curled around himself again, trying to go even smaller.

Aziraphale sighed in disappointment. Then he turned and spoke to Crowley in the original human language. ‘He’s got a twin brother called Stanley. He’s on the streets somewhere.’

‘On the streets?’ Crowley asked suspiciously.

‘Stanley used to always protect him when they were children,’ Aziraphale explained. ‘Until they were just shy of seventeen when the two had a slight falling out over a mistake Stanley made that was blown out of proportion. Their father heard them arguing and tossed the other out with a pre-packed bag and no money.’

Crowley scowled. ‘And we’re sure this guy’ll help?’

‘This man feels loved, Crowley,’ Aziraphale said. ‘Deeply and unconditionally. His father has already disowned him for failing to hand over money as he made it, his mother is subservient to her husband to the point that she has not even attempted to contact him, and the older brother holds his previous hubris over his head because he developed a habit of talking down to everyone. He had one friend, who recently abandoned him. That love must be coming from somewhere. Stanley is the only candidate.’

Crowley nodded. ‘I’ll find him.’ He vanished.

Aziraphale sighed and turned back to the man. He spoke in English again. ‘Ten years seems an awfully long time to hold a grudge, my dear boy. Especially seeing as your life is so fleeting here. What would you have done if Stanley passed away before you spoke again?’

Stanford Pines glanced up at him, guardedly.

Crowley didn’t have a hard time finding Stanley Pines.

A twin brother who was cast out over a mistake – a small one from Aziraphale’s account – yet still loved his brother.

But he had surprisingly few negative emotions towards his brother. They were more aimed at his father and himself. He was in exactly the environment Crowley had been expecting. A kid in that situation would, of course, fall into a life of crime. But it was amazing how fast even thugs ran when faced with an enormous snake.

Stanley Pines couldn’t run with that knife in his calf, but he did go very, very still.

Which, honestly, in that situation, probably the smartest thing you could do. No good running from something when you couldn’t run fast. And trying to run would draw the predator’s attention to your injury. Most snakes didn’t prey on humans and wanted to leave when disturbed. Not moving or bothering it were your best bets.

Crowley let himself transform back into the human appearance.

Stanley blinked. ‘Okay,’ he recovered well for a human, ‘pardon the pun but…I’ll bite. What the actual Hell?’

Crowley just chuckled and then moved forward to remove the knife and heal the injury. Healing wasn’t something many – or indeed any other – Demons could do. But Crowley had always been able to do it.

Stanley’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. ‘Okay, stab wound gone. So…what do you want in return?’

‘It was just in my way,’ Crowley said. ‘You’re Stanley Pines?’

‘And how do you know that?’

‘It has to do with your brother.’

Up until now, Stanley had shown the exact cold suspicion and cynicism that Crowley would expect of one who had lived on the street since he was a kid. But then his eyes went wide and a painful sort of hope entered his eyes. And Crowley inwardly cursed. Aziraphale was right. It was this one. This was the one who loved that human deeply and unconditionally. To him, getting him kicked out onto the street was just…unfortunate.

Stanley could forgive him for that.

Whatever you were fighting about ten years ago, Stanford Pines, you better fucking forgive him like he forgave you.

And once Crowley told him what state his brother was in – what he needed – that hope turned into fear…and sheer bloody rage.

Bill ought to be glad he didn’t have a physical form for Stanley Pines to beat the crap out of.

Aziraphale was still kneeling by Stanford when he heard Crowley call out in the original language.

‘Hop out of the way, Angel!’

Aziraphale did just that mere seconds before a man flew in, almost too fast for a human eye and only slowed when he dropped to his knees next to his brother. He reached out and grabbed his brother’s arms. The broken-down human jumped and pulled against the grip. But one word from his brother stopped him.

‘Ford!’

Stanford – Ford – froze. Slowly, he lifted his head. His bloodshot eyes looked at the man that, apart from a few minor details, was his mirror image. He licked his lips.

‘S…Stanley…?’

The love and protectiveness coming from Stanley was more apparent up close. Relief washed through Ford and he slowly uncurled himself. He reached out for his brother, slowly, at first. Then he moved fast, throwing himself into his brother’s arms so violently, Stanley fell onto his backside.

‘Whoa!’ Stanley closed his arms around his brother. ‘Easy, Ford. It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.’

‘Make him stop, Stan,’ Ford whispered. ‘He won’t leave me alone. Just make him stop!’ He started to cry in earnest, burying his face in his brother’s shoulder.

Aziraphale stood back with his hands folded in front of him. As sitting with the victim and trying to calm him down was normal, so too was their reaction when Crowley tracked down and brought in the person who could calm them down quickly. It was usually someone they had loved and trusted all of their lives, so they clamped onto the safe harbour that person represented.

Stan hugged his brother, rubbing his back and unconsciously rocking him. But Aziraphale could see a look of such rage on Stan’s face. If Bill Cipher had a physical form, Stanley Pines would have a knuckle sandwich for him.

Slowly, Ford began to calm down. Stan took the chance to look around. His eyes landed on Aziraphale.

‘I take it you’re the guy who can fix this?’ Stan asked.

‘Yes,’ Aziraphale said. ‘I’m rather afraid it’s better than the first time we found this situation. Crowley had to make himself scarce and I had to call back-up. They ended up killing the poor man.’

Probably the wrong thing to say because Ford flinched and Stan’s grip on him tightened.

‘So what do you do?’ Stan asked suspiciously.

‘Well, for a starters, I need the victim calm,’ Aziraphale said. ‘Then I have to check if Bill is already in the mind. If he is not, I can put in a physical barrier that will keep him out.’

‘And if he is?’ Stan asked.

‘Then I have to strengthen the human mind’s defences until it’s too strong for him,’ Aziraphale answered. ‘Either option leaves the human in question with a dreadful migraine for days afterwards.’

Stan looked thoughtful, then he nodded. He looked down at his brother. ‘Come on, Pointdexter. It’s gonna be over soon. You just gotta lay down.’

Slowly…very slowly, Ford let himself was laid down on the floor. Aziraphale moved to sit by his head. Ford’s bloodshot eyes tracked his movements warily. Stan reached out and squeezed his hand. Ford’s eyes darted down to him and he curled his fingers tightly around his brother’s. Stan put his other hand on Ford’s shoulder, either to hold him steady or as an old gesture of grounding him.

Aziraphale pressed his fingertips gently to Ford’s temples. Instantly, he felt the evil entity of Bill Cipher already present and waiting…and angry at Aziraphale’s interference. But he was always angry at Aziraphale’s interference. He’d long-since given up trying to manipulate him, especially when Aziraphale had sent up a report and Heaven now knew the sorts of things Bill would say to the humans.

Which, incidentally, was why he’d been given the title of “Extra-dimensional dream demon”.

Ford gasped as Bill lashed out. Blood seeped out from the corner of his eye.

‘Whoa!’ Stan lifted the hand from his shoulder and wiped the blood away and then pressed his hand to the side of his brother’s face. ‘What’s happening?’

‘Bill’s fighting me,’ Aziraphale said. ‘He’s like an entitled child, in many ways. He thinks he can do what he likes and he throws a temper tantrum when he doesn’t get his way. This always happens when I have to push him out of a human mind. Your brother will bear the brunt of his anger, but I will heal him once I’ve gotten Bill out.’

Stan was silent for a moment, but then he nodded.

Crowley stood in the doorway, watching.

By now, his Angel was well practiced at this. Bill was very powerful, but he did not even come close to the power of real Demons. And he preyed mainly on humans. He had more understanding of them than a lot of Crowley’s compatriots, but he had yet to see them as more than “meat-sacks”.

And he had yet to breach Aziraphale’s defences.

Aziraphale kept working while Ford’s body twitched and jerked on the floor, moaning, whimpering, and choking out his brother’s name. Stan, for his part, knelt on the floor next to his twin, holding his hand and letting the blood coming out of his brother’s face spill over his hand.

This could take quite a long time and Stanley would have pins and needles by the time he moved. But Crowley could tell just by looking at him: Stan Pines would take that. He would stay there as long as Ford needed him to. Despite what’d happened ten years ago, Stanley still loved his brother exactly as Aziraphale said he did.

After this, Crowley was going to track down their father and exact a little Demonic Karma on him. And it’d follow the bastard until he went to Hell. Oh, the Demons who received him would notice, and they’d know who did it. But they’d also assume either it was a whim or this human did something to annoy Crowley.

Crowley didn’t care.

Stan’s heart broke.

Ford’s grip on his hand was tight – almost crushing. Blood seemed to be coming out of everything. Tears were mixing in with the blood that was leaking from his eyes. He periodically jerked in pain. And Stan hated every moment of it. But he also knew why it was happening. If this blond guy didn’t look so upset about it, Stan would be more suspicious of him.

Still, it was better than someone else coming in and killing Ford, just because they couldn’t be bothered to put the effort in to save him.

But, in the meantime, Stan was thinking.

Dream demon, Crowley had said, and not one of theirs. That meant Crowley was a Demon. And if Crowley was a Demon, then Angels existed too. The guy healing Ford was full of all the compassion that Angels were supposed to have. Though, it didn’t make sense that an Angel and a Demon might work together.

On the other hand, if you peeled back all the bias and propaganda around the Angel/Demon thing, a Demon was just an Angel who had gone against the Will of God. And that wouldn’t necessarily make them a bad person. Crowley certainly didn’t seem to be one, given that he was willing to help Ford.

This other one, though, had to be an Angel. So…Stan asked.

‘Yes,’ the man said. ‘My name is Aziraphale.’

Stan nodded. ‘So the others that would prefer to just kill him?’ And that made his stomach clench.

Aziraphale pulled a face. ‘The other Angels are…’ He fished for a moment.

‘Jerks?’ Crowley offered helpfully.

Aziraphale pulled a face.

‘The long and short of it, Stan,’ Crowley said, ‘is that Heaven and Hell are run like rival businesses. Killing people Bill gets into is quick, easy, and efficient. Especially if they can’t just pull out divine power and blast him out.’

‘And they can’t,’ Aziraphale said. ‘Because Bill is not a Fallen Angel. He was a mortal, who became a demon because he performed such an act of evil it was the natural conclusion.’

‘What’d he do?’

‘He comes from the Second Dimension,’ Aziraphale said. ‘There is no longer a Second Dimension.’

Oh. Oh, shit. ‘And he wants to do the same thing here?’ Stan frowned. ‘But that wouldn’t really affect you guys, would it?’

Crowley made a long, drawn-out noise. ‘The other Angels and Demons, no. But Aziraphale and I have been down here since the beginning. We’ve become…attached to you humans and your world. You’ve got cars and roads and more variety of music than anyone else.’

‘Not to mention all your food,’ Aziraphale added. ‘Oysters, cake, sushi…all quite wonderful. And the books! Such wonderful minds have gone on to lay down so many words and concepts on paper!’

Stan blinked in surprise, and then smiled. See, that made sense. ‘So, basically, you like it here.’

‘That’s it in a nutshell,’ Crowley responded.

Stan nodded. See, that made sense. They’d been here since the beginning, too, so they would have gotten attached to the humans they lived among. Everything fell into place in Stan’s mind. They watched us grow and change; they embraced the way humans changed the world. That was why they cared enough about humans to save people like Ford.

And that meant…Stan frowned. ‘So humans are just soul fodder to them?’

‘You mean, do they view humans as merely vessels to tempt to sin or influence to virtue for the sole purpose of bolstering their respective armies for the End of Days?’ Aziraphale asked. ‘Sadly…yes.’

And Stan was suddenly really glad they had these two.

At least somebody cared.

It seemed hours before it was over and Ford finally slumped.

Aziraphale withdrew. Stan shifted and pins and needles immediately shot through his legs. He winced and adjusted his position. Slowly pulling his brother’s glasses off, he wiped at the blood that covered most of his face. A soft damp cloth was suddenly handed to him. Stan nodded in gratitude and stared wiping Ford’s face clean.

He looked, for all the world like he was asleep.

Aziraphale shifted and sat back against the wall, glancing up. Then he pulled out a file and held it up in the air. It vanished a moment later. He noticed Stan looking and smiled.

‘Heaven doesn’t like me using my Miracles too much,’ he said. ‘This is one instance in which I can get away with using a gratuitous amount. Bill is a problem for everyone – Heaven and Hell alike – so I’m allowed to use whatever necessary to get rid of him.’

‘Right.’ Stan pulled his brother up, resting his head on his shoulder. Ford groaned softly, his forehead creasing. ‘A killer migraine for a few days, you said?’

Aziraphale nodded. ‘Yes, that’s right. A side-effect I haven’t been able to negate, even with the healing I do afterwards.’

‘Here.’ Crowley stepped in and handed Stan a bottle of extra-strength Tylenol.

‘Thanks.’ Stan tucked it into his pocket and then scooped his brother up into his arms. ‘Whoa. He’s a lot lighter than I remember.’

‘Well, Bill does tend to put one into a state where they forget things like food.’ Aziraphale looked disturbed at this. Of course, given that he’d said one of his favourite things about Earth was the food…‘Perhaps we better miracle some food into the cupboards before we leave. He’ll be dreadfully hungry when he wakes up.’

‘I got it.’ Crowley snapped his fingers. ‘Just say I’m encouraging gluttony.’

And Stan had to laugh.

Everything hurt.

That was the first thing Ford was aware of. Everything hurt and he wanted to snuggle up under the covers and…wait a minute!

Ford jerked, and the pain immediately spiked. A whimper forced its way out of his throat. There was quiet movement next to him but it made him grit his teeth. Then he felt an arm slide behind his neck. A scent, distantly familiar, reached his nose and he gasped in pain as he felt himself lifted.

Something was put in his mouth as he did and then something cold was put to his lips.

‘Drink.’

That voice…Ford mindlessly obeyed, chasing something down his throat. Slowly, he blinked his eyes open. Without his glasses, he was practically blind, but Ford could still make out the outline of…The glass was pulled from his lips. ‘…Stanley?’

‘You weren’t possessed by a demon at the time, I’d have preferred your first response,’ Stan remarked dryly as he lowered Ford back down to the bed.

Ford blinked. Suddenly…it was all coming back to him. First, that man with the eyes…He’d been so certain he was possessed by Bill but once Ford, scared and desperate and just wanting it over, had jerked away from him. He’d stepped back. Ford was embarrassed that he’d pathetically tried to curl into a ball to get away from him but…The guy hadn’t reacted like Bill.

Bill would have drawn in closer, mocking him. He’d have hurt him.

This guy hadn’t done that. Instead, he’d shoved his sunglasses up his nose, covering his eyes, and he’d stepped back. He’d given Ford the space he wanted. And he’d gone out for a short time. He returned and kept to the edge of the room until the second man had arrived. That man, at least, looked normal but Ford hadn’t trusted it and the yellow-eyed man had left.

Then, some unknown amount of time later – through which the second man kept talking to him – Stan had been there. Ford had been so scared and so desperate, he’d clamped onto his brother like when they were kids. He hadn’t even cared what Stan had done ten years ago. All he’d been able to think was that Stan was here and Stan would keep him safe.

‘So, what do you remember?’ Stan asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

‘Who were they?’ Ford asked.

‘Oh, those two guys?’ Stan responded. ‘The first guy was Crowley, a Demon of the Fallen Angel variety. But he told me he didn’t so much Fall as saunter vaguely downwards. Serpent of Eden apparently. He still doesn’t know what was wrong with knowing the difference between good and evil.’

Ford blinked. ‘Sorry, what?’

‘I’ll get to it,’ Stan said. He grabbed a book off the bedside table and flicked it open to an earmarked page. ‘The other guy was Aziraphale. He’s an actual Angel. And, yes, I checked. I guess this Tanakh was a present from ma?’

Ford smiled slightly when he realised just what book was in his hands. ‘Yeah. Why…?’

‘Are an Angel and a Demon working together?’ Stan asked. ‘Turns out they’re, respectively, Heaven and Hell’s agents on Earth. They’ve been here from the start and they’ve been left mostly unsupervised. So they became friends over the years. And they’re evidently quite fond of the Earth by now. That Bentley Crowley drives is vintage but it goes like it’s brand spanking new. Pair of Hedonists, the both of ‘em.’

Ford had to smile properly at that. ‘So they helped me?’

‘Yeah. Not the first time they encountered this Bill guy.’ Stan shrugged. ‘Usually Crowley finds the people, and then calls Aziraphale to fix ‘em up.’ He pulled a face. ‘He only called for help the first time it happened and it turns out the rest of the Angels are assholes. They ended up killing the guy because they couldn’t “holy magic” Bill out of him. So now Aziraphale just asks for the human’s life file.’

Ford presumed that was some kind of document for every person that detailed their lives, like how doctors kept medical files. ‘What for?’

‘Because Aziraphale needs the bugger to be calm before he can do anything for them,’ Stan answered. ‘He uses the file to find someone who can calm them down.’ He looked at Ford. ‘Any particular reason why that was me?’

Ford flinched, and then winced as his head throbbed.

Stan pressed a cold compress to his head. And Ford leaned into it.

Ford swallowed. ‘…When I got my research grant, pop wanted a slice of the pie, so to speak.’

‘Isn’t a research grant…y’know, for research?’ Stan asked. ‘Like, you can’t spend it on anything else?’

‘Yeah, but pop didn’t accept that answer,’ Ford said. ‘He said until I was prepared to “pay my way”, I better not darken his doorstep again.’

‘And ma would have done what he said after that,’ Stan muttered. The anger in his tone made Ford look in his direction. ‘What about Shermie?’

‘Apparently, I was a know-it-all who was rubbing it in everyone else’s face,’ Ford said. ‘He hasn’t had much to do with me either.’

‘I’mma punch in him the schnozz,’ Stan decided. ‘You’re thoughtless, you’re not malicious. I bet you didn’t even realise you were doing it.’

And wasn’t that the truth? Ford hadn’t. Sure, he knew he was smarter than everyone in the room and he liked talking about what he did. But…he’d never realised he was talking down to anyone. It was something, he now realised, he’d even done as a kid. But Stan hadn’t cared. Stan had never cared. He took what Ford was like, he accepted him for it, and he shot back in a way that never made Ford feel bad about himself. Maybe that was why he’d trusted Stan even after everything that’d happened.

Despite what happened, Stan would never turn his back on him like everyone else had.

Maybe he ought to appreciate that.

‘Uh huh,’ Crowley said. ‘What’d you do?’

‘Oh, I just made Ford a little more open-minded to his brother,’ Aziraphale said. ‘He was holding onto that grudge like it was the edge of a cliff he was dangling off of. Not healthy for a human. And his brother is the only family he’s got left.’

‘Rest of the family’s still alive,’ Crowley pointed out.

‘Yes, but they have cast both of them out,’ Aziraphale said. ‘And I do so love a happy ending.’

It took everything in Crowley not to smile.