Work Text:
There are an infinite number of universes. Just as there are an infinite number of possibilities. This concept has long been known as the multiverse theory. If you ask a physicist if multiverses exist, they will tell you it is a philosophical hypothesis. And not one based on scientific fact since it can be neither proved nor disproved. If you ask a writer they will explain that while it is a wonderful plot device there is no way to know for sure.
If you ask an angel, they will tell you of course there's a multiverse. Then demand to know who you are and how you got into heaven without clearance. That's usually when it's best to thank them for their time and leave. Quickly.
Castiel knew there were multiple worlds. He also knew that many of them were destroyed when Chuck was on the warpath, but not all. Despite what Death said, some of the other universes survived. And he knew that Dean was on a mission to see as many as he could. Running from eternal peace, wasn't that just like a Winchester?
Sometimes he thought of joining Dean on that road, but no. He would wait in Heaven until Dean was ready to come home. Castiel would always wait for Dean. What Castiel didn't know was that the multiverse works in clusters, and this was about to change his life.
Each cluster is a different continuity centered around one higher being or another. Chuck was one, and Jack took over his duties when he was no longer God. But there are other Gods out there. Yes, Gods with a capital G and an s at the end. Chuck was not the only one and each has their own domain of multiverses to rule over. Many of them have angels. Because it seems that delegating tasks is something that the Gods like to do. Rather than get off their asses and do something themselves.
One can assume it does take quite a lot of energy to create a whole universe. It says on the seventh day He rested and we don't know how long an actual day is for God. Regardless, it would be nice if they'd do something about this whole climate change thing. Instead of lying around or going on vacation to Boca Raton.
But we're getting sidetracked. There is a lot of work that goes into being God. Learning how to control your endless celestial power is at the top of the list. A bit lower down is how to use the office equipment in Heaven. A lot of Heavens model themselves on human offices in the early 21st century. Why that is, no one really knows. Something about the cold, inhuman nothingness of minimalism reminds them of happier times. Like before the Earth was invented.
Ever since Heaven's remodel the intercom system had been "having a moment". Not that it had an actual mood. Being less an electric intercom system and more a celestial intent of an intercom system. And it wasn't truly temperamental. Jack kept mixing up the "accept" button with the "transfer" button. So one day when Castiel was praying to Jack, he wasn't surprised to hear a very confused voice on the other line.
"Um, yes, hello. Am I speaking with God?" A very British-sounding voice asked.
"No, I'm Castiel." He sighed. Jack transferred his call again. He seemed to keep sending Castiel to various parts of Heaven. Though on one memorable occasion, Jack transferred him to a soba shack outside of Kyoto.
"Castiel?" The British voice asked.
"Yes."
"I don't believe I know you."
That didn't seem right. All the angels knew him, for better or worse. "Who am I speaking with?"
"Aziraphale."
"Aziraphale?"
"Yes."
"I haven't heard that name before. Are you an angel?" Jack might have created a new one without telling Castiel. He did that sometimes. It wasn't so much that he needed Castiel's permission as he was worried about Jack. He didn't need to since Jack was God, but Castiel still thought of Jack as his son. He couldn't help but worry.
The British angel sounded pleased with himself. "Why, yes, yes I am. In fact, I am the newly appointed supreme archangel of Heaven."
Castiel snorted. "That's impossible, there aren't any archangels left." And Castiel definitely would have felt it if a new one were created.
"I beg your pardon?" Aziraphale's tone suggested he took offense. Castiel rolled his eyes.
"The archangels. They're all dead."
"That's impossible. I was just speaking to Michael this morning!"
He raised an eyebrow. "How? Are you in the Empty?"
"The what?"
"The Empty. Before there was light there was darkness, and before that nothing. That's the Empty. It's where angels and demons go when they die. If you're an angel you should know this."
"I don't know what you're talking about but it sounds rather unpleasant. Are you certain you are an angel? I've never heard of an angel named Castiel."
"I find that hard to believe. Though… I've never heard of an angel named Aziraphale, either. Much less an archangel."
"Quite strange."
"Yes. Do you need something?"
"Uh, yes. I was trying to reach God. I'm having a bit of a dilemma and I could use some guidance."
That didn't sound like any archangel Castiel had ever met. Every single one of them was headstrong and secure in their own power. The only one who'd ever questioned anything was Lucifer. And that was because he questioned God himself. If an archangel was asking for help, that was bad news. For Aziraphale, for Heaven, and for the world.
He was about to respond when there was the sound of static, then Castiel heard Jack's voice.
"I'm so sorry! I accidentally transferred you over to another universe."
"It's alright Jack," Castiel soothed. "But can you transfer me back? I was talking to another angel, he's in trouble."
"I don't know how to do that," Jack said.
"Don't touch anything, I'll be there in a few minutes."
"Okay."
Meanwhile, in the multiverse known as the Shadow Moon-Sam Vimes Conclave, Aziraphale was on hold. The music was a tune he didn't know. It was a rather loud and raucous song that declared there would be peace when one was done.
Of course, that was not true for the Chuck Shurley Multiverse. But no one knew that except the residents of a certain universe. The one that stole stories from other multiverses and made them into TV shows. Because nothing fun or exciting ever happened there.
As he waited, Aziraphale took in his new office. Unlike Gabriel, he did in fact have a desk. It wasn't large or ornate, but just having a desk in Heaven was something one could be proud of. In fact, it gave the owner of the desk certain bragging rights. Desks were so few and far between, as were chairs.
There were however quite a few water coolers. Not because the angels liked to gather around them and gossip. Angels didn't need to drink water, and they shouldn't gossip. That wouldn't be very angelic. They existed because every office should have water coolers.
A swell of pride built in his chest, but did his best to push it down. Pride was a sin, and not becoming of the supreme archangel. When Metatron first brought him back to Heaven, Aziraphale felt a surge of triumph. Finally, Heaven would do things his way. There would be no needless tests of the faithful, like what befell poor Job. Nor would there be another apocalypse. That was over and done with.
The only fly in the ointment was Crowley.
Aziraphale couldn't understand why he turned down the chance to be an angel once again. Crowley was a demon, yes. But he was different from the other demons, he always had been. He would shout from the rooftops he was evil, while his actions always said otherwise. Aziraphale knew there was good in Crowley. He couldn't understand why Crowley couldn't see it, too. Or why he was adamant that Heaven was toxic and they should leave it behind.
No, he could make a difference, he knew he could. Metatron assured him things would be done Aziraphale's way. He was the best angel for the job. Heaven was under his command, and they would do good. Yes, human life was complicated and one could do good while committing an evil act. The shades of gray were something Heaven never considered before. Aziraphale had thousands of years of experience studying them. This would be a just and forgiving Heaven, all thanks to Aziraphale. It was something he never knew he wanted but was honored to receive.
So then why did his thoughts continue to stray to Crowley's lips pressed against his own? Why did he feel sick over the thought of never seeing his bookshop again? Why did he feel as though he'd made a terrible mistake? Why was he starting to doubt?
This was his moment, his chance to prove there was more than black and white to Heaven. He couldn't fall now, not when there was so much he could do. He would save Heaven from its own dogmatic bureaucratic practices. And save the souls of the humans on Earth. They all deserved an equal shot at Paradise!
Humans like Maggie, who was caring, polite. And a little sensitive but she always wanted to do the right thing. It's why Maggie cried when she didn't have the rent money for him. And to save people like Nina. The sharp-tongued, acid-witted skeptic. Who much like Crowley had no problem making her feelings known. They were good, and they deserved a chance at salvation.
He wondered what they would think about all of this. He hadn't had time to tell either of them. Nor to introduce them to Muriel, who would be running the bookshop now that he was gone. Muriel was innocent, perhaps too innocent to be stationed on Earth. In London of all places. But she'd helped Crowley, Nina, and Maggie. Plus she did seem rather enthusiastic about reading the book she'd been waving at him.
Where had she gotten it? It was one of Aziraphale's books of course, but why did she pick that one to read? An odd choice, The Crow Road. It didn't seem like something Muriel would choose for herself. If he'd recommended anything to Muriel it would have been Jane Austen. Or Terry Pratchett.
He was drawn out of his thoughts when the hold music ended and Castiel asked, "Aziraphale? Are you still there?"
"Oh, yes! Yes, I'm here."
"It appears our prayers were connected accidentally," said Castiel. "You've reached a different universe."
He pursed his lips. "Oh. I didn't mean to do that."
"That was my fault, I'm sorry," a younger voice said, this one was also American but he sounded like a teenager. "I must have hit the transfer switch at the same time you were calling God. We tried connecting you with your God's office. It went straight to voicemail. And there was a message that said She's on vacation until Wednesday, April 2nd, 2042. She won't return any calls until then."
His heart sank. "That's a little inconvenient."
"But if you're in trouble, we can help," said the young man.
"I'm not sure that you can," Aziraphale said. "It's a rather delicate situation."
"Oh. Jack, perhaps I should speak with Aziraphale alone." There was some conversation, but it was muffled. Then Castiel said, "Sorry about that. Jack's still pretty young. While he does have cosmic and celestial omnipotence now, I thought it best he sat this one out."
"Is Jack an angel?"
"No, he's a Nephilim. Or he was. Now he's God."
There's a common saying on Earth, primarily in England, of keeping a stiff upper lip. That is to say, one should not let their emotions show on their face. This is something that Aziraphale has never excelled at. Which is why his jaw dropped and he gave a small, horrified gasp.
"A Nephilim is God in your universe?"
"Yes, he's a vast improvement over the last one. Chuck was a good writer but a terrible God."
Aziraphale's head spun at the implication of an angel criticizing God in any universe.
"You shouldn't say such things," he said. "You could end up in trouble"
To his surprise, Castiel chuckled.
"I'm sorry, I promise I'm not mocking you. You remind me of someone."
"Oh? Who's that?"
"Me. Before I rebelled against Heaven."
This time, Aziraphale did gasp. If it were possible for the newly appointed supreme archangel of Heaven to faint, he would have. But that would have been most unbecoming of his new position.
"You rebelled?"
"Yes, during the apocalypse. Which isn't the worst thing I've done. But I have atoned, and my family and my remaining brothers and sisters have forgiven me."
This certainly didn't sound right. "Would you care to explain? It's only… I also rebelled against Heaven. During the apocalypse but now I've been tasked with running it. I'd like to know how you got to where you are."
It took a little prodding, and Aziraphale wished he had a cup of tea and a plate of biscuits handy. It was a very long story, and there were times when Castiel sounded mournful as he spoke. Aziraphale was both saddened and horrified at what Castiel experienced. But there was always a note of hope in his voice. Especially whenever he spoke of his human family, the Winchesters.
When he'd finished, Aziraphale asked, "And when you and Dean reunited in Heaven? What did he say about your confession?"
Castiel huffed out a breath. "I haven't spoken with him yet."
He blinked. "Why not?"
"Dean's life wasn't easy. It was one of the most difficult lives of any human I've ever encountered. When he died, he wasn't ready, though I think some small part of him was relieved. In his darkest moments, he would lament about how tired he was. Most people aren't ready when they pass on, of course, but Dean is different. He couldn't relax. Eternal peace is a concept he's having difficulty with. His entire life was one battle after another. He needed one last hunt. And that's where he is now. I've asked Bobby Singer to look in on him and tell me if there's anything he needs. There was the incident with the Akrida but ever since then it's been quiet."
"Why haven't you gone with him?" Aziraphale asked.
"I don't think he wants me there."
Which sounded completely ridiculous to Aziraphale. "What makes you think so? You said it yourself he was devastated when you sacrificed yourself to the Empty. And you did it to save him."
"That's why I don't think he wants me there," Castiel said. "Even I'm aware it's, as Dean would say, 'a dick move' to dump something like that on him and then vanish. Dean needs time to wrap his head around what I said to him. When he wants to talk to me, I'll be here. Until then I have work to do."
"Oh, is it? I thought sudden confessions were supposed to be romantic," he said. "Crowley thought so."
"Who?"
"Crowley. He's… Someone I know."
Which wasn't a lie. In the way that one can say that your spouse is someone who you live with. It is correct but it doesn't cover the full scope of who they are and what they mean to you. Unfortunately for Aziraphale, Castiel was pretty good at catching lies by omission. At least from other angels. This was a recent development. In his early years, many angels lied to Castiel's face more than once and he had no idea.
"I think you should tell me how you came to rebel against Heaven during an apocalypse, too. It's a strange thing to happen twice with two different angels," Castiel said.
"I suppose you're right. I was praying for guidance, after all."
So then Aziraphale told his story, from the very beginning. It was a much longer story than Castiel's, and there were one or two places he drifted off on a tangent. But there were two constants. Aziraphale's commitment to Heaven, and Crowley. The demon who tempted Eve to eat the apple. Who Aziraphale knew when he was an angel, a designer of galaxies. Who, after everything, deep down, was good.
He talked about Adam Young and the apocalypse that never was. He talked about how they swapped places to save each other's lives. And then, once everything quieted down, they'd settled into a routine. But there was so much they never said to each other. And now it was too late. Because Gabriel left Heaven, Beelzebub left Hell. Aziraphale replaced Gabriel and Shax replaced Beelzebub.
Then he spoke of his offer to Crowley. They could rule Heaven together, Crowley could be an angel again. A generous offer indeed. No one ever regained their angelic status once lost. It could have been so perfect, the two of them together in Heaven, working towards a common goal. They could do so much good!
And then Crowley rejected it, and he confessed his feelings for Aziraphale. Of course, there was the kiss. The kiss that still brought Aziraphale's fingers to his lips. As though expecting to find some trace of Crowley there, like a brand. A kiss that would have stolen Aziraphale's breath, if he needed to breathe. Which of course he didn't, since he was an angel.
He confessed all of this to Castiel, and at the end, he said, "And that's why I say I'm in a spot of trouble. I feel as though I've made a mistake."
Castiel was silent on the other end. It made something unpleasant twist in Aziraphale's stomach. Guilt, it was guilt. He swallowed and cleared his throat.
"Though, of course, I'm not questioning the ineffable plan. It's ineffable after all. I simply…" He trailed off.
"You love him," Castiel said.
Aziraphale sighed. "Yes, I do."
It felt odd to say it out loud. Even more odd that he wasn't saying it to Crowley himself. Instead, he admitted his love to a stranger. Another angel who lived in another universe. An angel Aziraphale would likely never meet face to face.
And yet, that was the only reason he'd given voice to what he knew all along. Angels and demons in love were not in the ineffable plan. They couldn't be, otherwise, it would be allowed. Gabriel and Beelzebub wouldn't have needed to flee to the far side of the universe.
"You're not ready to take the next step."
"The next step?"
"You already said that any relationship with Crowley would be forbidden. Do you really think even if he were an angel again it would be okay? Are there any angels in your Heaven who are in love with each other?"
He paused, then said, "Now that you mention it, no. I can't think of any at all."
"Angels are made to love God's creations and serve His will and Heaven," Castiel said. "It's something I was often reminded of when I first went to Earth. So, I think even if Crowley said yes you wouldn't have been allowed to be together in the way he wanted. I also think you never dealt with your questions and doubts after the apocalypse was averted."
"An astute observation," he said.
"I've been there. Though I would recommend you don't try to become the new God. It never works out," Castiel replied.
Aziraphale allowed himself a small chuckle. "But getting back to it, have I made a mistake? I don't know that Crowley will ever speak to me again."
"I think…" he trailed off for a moment. "I think you did what was right for yourself at that moment. I also think if the two of you talked sooner this might have been avoided. But I know what it's like to question Heaven's moral compass when it's out of alignment with your own. Often Heaven and Hell operate in contrast. Everything is in black or white."
"Not shades of gray, like on Earth," he finished. "It's funny, Crowley said something similar to me in Edinburgh back in the 1800s."
"He happens to be right. There's never any one right answer or one wrong answer. Everything is complicated, even in Heaven."
"Precisely! That's why I want to take charge. To show Heaven there's more than just good and evil. There are things like extenuating circumstances. But I can't help but wonder what might have been."
"It sounds like this is something you've struggled with for a long time. So no, I won't say you've made a mistake, but I would like to give you some advice."
"I'm listening."
"Check in with Crowley, Muriel, and your human friends. Especially when you're having doubts. Even if Crowley doesn't want to talk to you, or Maggie, Muriel, and Nina don't have any advice. Sometimes, it's hard to tell when we're changing for the better, or for the worse. I'm fortunate enough to have a family who will tell me when I'm out of order. I don't always listen to them, but I appreciate that they care enough to, quote, 'call me on my bullshit'."
That was rather a rude way to phrase it, but Aziraphale understood. "I take it that's something Dean has said to you."
"Yes, and Sam. It sounds to me like Crowley is worried you'll fall back into your former mindset. I'm not saying Heaven can't be changed, or that it won't be better under your leadership. But it's a job that can take its toll, and Heaven might change you the more you try to change it. You need to be aware of that possibility. And when you worry it's becoming too much, talk to your friends. If you have made a mistake, they'll tell you."
"I don't imagine Crowley will ever want to speak with me again."
"Give him time to recover. He's hurt, but once he's licked his wounds he'll come around. You don't love someone for six thousand years then turn your back on them forever because of one decision."
"I suppose you're right." Aziraphale was tired. He wasn't sure how much longer he could continue this conversation. The output of celestial energy necessary to keep up the connection was taxing. Even for the most powerful of angels. "Thank you, Castiel. You've given me a lot to think about. Though, if I may offer some advice of my own?"
"Yes?"
"Go find Dean."
"What?"
"Go and find him. I'm aware he needs time to process everything, but you should go and find him. Let him know you're waiting for him and will be there whenever he wants to talk. I'm sure he isn't shy about sharing his feelings. If he's anything like Crowley, he'll do all he can to avoid them for as long as he can. Just tell him when he's ready, you'll be waiting. Don't assume he knows. Tell him."
Castiel was quiet for a long time, and then he said, "You're right. Thank you Aziraphale. I hope someday we meet in person."
"Oh, that might be interesting. If we do, we should go to the Ritz for tea."
"I don't drink tea."
"Coffee then?"
"I'm an angel, I don't eat or drink. I can, but all I taste is molecules."
"Perhaps the molecules in a different universe will taste differently."
"Maybe. We'll see. Good luck, Aziraphale."
"And you as well. Thank you, Castiel."
Then there was silence.
Aziraphale looked around his office once again. He still had a job to do in Heaven, and he was determined to do it and do it well. But still, it wouldn't hurt to leave a peace offering. Just in case Crowley ever returned to the bookshop. So he sat at his desk and miracled up a piece of paper and a pen. He wrote a quick note and placed it in an envelope and sealed it. He was careful to miracle it closed so no one but the intended recipient could open it. Then Aziraphale summoned one of the lower angels.
"Please take this to Muriel. Tell her to hold onto it for when Crowley comes back," he said. The angel nodded and left his office.
The note simply said I'm sorry. Can we talk?
Meanwhile, back in the Chuck Shurley Multiverse, Cas left Jack's office. The teenage God happened to be walking back at that time, an ice cream cone in hand. It was dripping all over his fist. Jack was desperately trying to catch as much of the melting ice cream with his mouth as he could.
"I'm going to find Dean," Cas said.
"You want me to come with you?" Jack asked.
"No, I need to talk to him."
Jack grinned. "Okay. Tell him I said hi."
Castiel smiled and then left the building. There weren't a lot of ways to travel the multiverse, driving was one of them. Flying was another. Castiel went to the very edge of Heaven and stared down into the vast expanse of cosmic abyss below. He could see the pulses of celestial energy that held the universes together. They twinkled like Christmas lights. Somewhere out there, Dean was still driving. Castiel would find him, and they would talk. He spread his wings and flew away.