Work Text:
It started as it will end. With a fall. Even though Crowley would disagree with you there. You see, he did not so much fall as saunter vaguely downwards. Falling or sauntering may seem very different for the being falling or sauntering but if we look at it from the outside, we see a beautiful shooting star. A fallen angel will always make the most beautiful shooting star. Remember that the next time you look up to sky at night. When you feel lost, because the whole world is against you. When you in need of the comfort the galaxy gives you like a warm blanket in a cold night. Seeing the stars always makes you dream, doesn’t it? Seeing a shooting star on the other hand… oh, that’s like winning the lottery. It makes you feel seen, saying “you’re special, yes, you, right there!”. Make a wish, if you dare. You hear your parents saying in your ear, your granny, your friends. You are a winner!
Let’s take a closer look, shall we? Let us imagine you are that angel. Oh, you are beautiful. God’s creation. God’s little brave soldier. God’s helping hand. Creator of stars and whole galaxies. Beautiful and damned. And falling. That Angel you are did not realize that he was falling. His memory was blurred, a pain he had never felt before is dominating his thoughts. A fire burning away his sacred soul, his dreams, his existence. He can’t see. Everything is dark. Eyes are on him, looking at him, through him, making him feel naked, paranoid and guilty. The pain, oh the pain is there. It’s the only thing giving him comfort. Blind, deaf and helpless, he is in a state of a dream. That kind of dream that feels so real as if it’s not a dream at all. That kind of dream, where you are lost in your sleep and then suddenly you’re falling. And even when you wake up, you can still feel your heartbeat in your body like someone banging at the walls of your skin from the inside, yelling “Help me!”. When you wake up from that kind of dream and you begin to look around with a panic that makes you blind for the truth. Just Darkness around you. That’s how our little angel is feeling right now. Alone, guilty and in pain.
For the period of Falling, which for us Watchers, Observers feels like a split of a second. However, for our falling angel it feels like a lifetime. Feeling his memory burning away as all he can do is watching it like a film tape slowing being eaten by the fire. The moment he begins to adapt to the pain, it’s gone. The burning pain is replaced by the end of the fall. You know how every fall ends, don’t you? The sudden stop at the end of it. The landing, the second you hit the ground, it’s over. The end.
But is it really the end? Yes, the pain stops, the feeling of the ground underneath you… it’s different, isn’t it? Our little angel… look at him. Laying on the ground, not being able to move, not being able to think. He is feeling numb. Laying on his back, he cannot feel anything except numbness. He tried to open his eyes, but they’re not obeying his control. Hours pass by and he finally made a successfully attempt. Everything is a big blur. Dark with very few light spots.
“What on earth?” He was trying to say but nothing came out of his mouth. His throat felt dry and it hurt at the attempt of speaking. Slowing twitching the muscles in his fingers, trying to get a feeling for the pain, the damage that his body had taken. Carefully, trying not to move to fast, he slowing rubbed his eyes. Opening them again, the fallen angle knew, he should be looking at the stars. Once you’ve helped building them, you feel them like a part of your own self. However, the fallen angel felt nothing moving his head up to the sky. His Vision was still a blur of something, something he should recognize but failed to. This can’t be right. These are my stars. Why can’t I see them? Why can’t I feel them? Where are they? His thoughts were racing through his mind overflowing, drowning him in an ocean of his own mind. Paralyzed by his panic, the fallen angel could do nothing except staring at his own creation without ever recognizing the stars he made.
Only God knows how long her little fallen angel was laying on the ground, on the planet she made (in only six days!). But it was long enough to heal his wounds and to adapt to this new feelings. He was standing now. Still looking at the sky with such hurt look in his eyes, that even the air around him felt heavy and used. A new feeling began to spread in his body, washing the pain of not recognizing anything around him away. Hate. Sparks of lightning began to dance on his skin as he took his gaze away from his creation and from God, his creator. Smoke found its way from his skin and his eyes were glowing like a dying star. Yellow with a dark core, they were looking at the ground with a mix of hate, confusion and desperation. He took a deep breath. It felt dirty, breathing the air in and out. Desperately, he tried not to panic again. Alright, he thought, if that’s how it’s gonna be then as you please. The fallen angel took a small step… and fell. He fell into the ground, the earth devouring him like a starving animal. And then he was gone, nothing left to prove that he had ever been there.