Chapter Text
Aziraphale could still feel the painful shards of his shattered heart as the elevator rocketed upwards at an alarming rate. His hands trembled. Though it was not from fear. It was from resisting, resisting the urge to press the big red button that screamed STOP. As the lift’s destination got closer and closer, and Heaven’s blistering light began to radiate its beams through the cracks in the metal encasing. He had to shield his eyes. So. This was it then. Metatron had forced his hand and now here he was, about to spend an eternity, without Crowley. No. Don’t think about Crowley. Those shards would just pierce through his resolve otherwise. Damn that foolish man. Damn him for kissing him, for letting Aziraphale know the sheer bliss of those lips touching. Now those lips would forever be the forbidden fruit, the ultimate test of temptation.
Of course he kept all this inside him. His expression schooled to a careful neutral lest his unwanted companion caught wind of his internal rebellion. Metatron had wanted him back. Had threatened Crowley’s very existence if he had refused. How could he have made any other choice? Oh what must the demon be thinking of him now? He must think that Aziraphale was a traitor to their side, willing to abandon his true friend for career progression. Aziraphale twitched though the movement was hopefully minute enough to go undetected. He just hated this. He hated having to go back to Heaven. He hated leaving Crowley. Especially on such terms.
It would have been too dangerous to have communicated this with the demon. So he’d done the one thing guaranteed to hurt his friend, and stop him asking questions. He’d offered him redemption, the chance of forgiveness. He’d known that Crowley would see that as a slight, that he wasn’t good enough as it was. Nothing could be further from the truth. Aziraphale loved Crowley as a demon. It was the demon he’d spent six millennia getting to know, not the angel.
There was a sharp ding. A juddering thud as they arrived at their destination, Aziraphale’s thoughts grinding to a halt. He sucked in a breath he didn’t need. Okay. He was going to do this. If he had to spend an eternity in Heaven, then he was going to sort it out once and for all. He was supreme archangel now. He could change things. He just had to. Otherwise leaving Crowley would have been all for nothing.
The lift doors slid open. They revealed not the usual cavernous and sterile surroundings that were empty of all persons. The environment was still the same, granted, but instead there was a person. And not a reluctantly welcoming archangel as he might have expected. No. There before him was God. He could tell it was Her, even in her humanoid form. His Grace would have recognised its creator in any situation. She gave him a small smile that had him weak at his knees.
Metatron abruptly fell forward, prostrating himself in front of her as though he was but a slave and She was his master. To be fair that was likely an apt descriptor, Aziraphale knew that even the highest ranked angel was merely a puppet to Her whims. He found himself following suit, though not as dramatically, instead he bowed his head in respect.
“What in My name do you think you are doing, Enoch?” She spoke and through her voice danced a thousand tongues of language.
“Lord?” Metatron trembled, daring a glance at Her face. She did not seem pleased, though Aziraphale was careful not to speculate.
“You separated the angel and demon. Just as things were getting interesting.” She let out a world weary sigh, the kind that could easily start a hurricane if not kept in check.
“I.. uh thought that was what you wanted Lord.. The angel and demon are dangerous together. The miracle they performed..” Metatron petered off nervously, confusion stamped across his face at the reprimand he was somehow receiving.
“This is why you shouldn’t think. Honestly. I’ve been waiting six millennia for these two idiots to finally get together.” She threw a look of exasperation in Aziraphale’s direction at that, and he swiftly resumed bowing his head, refusing to acknowledge the blush that was now staining his cheeks.
“You.. you want them to be involved? Romantically?” Metatron sounded scandalised at this, he peered around, clearly considering if this was a joke or not.
“Are you questioning your Lord?” She asked with warning laced through the words.
Metatron was wise to shake his head and speak no further.
“Good.” She praised him as though he was an unruly puppy that had finally been house trained. “Now. What’s this I hear about an apocalypse?”
“We.. err.. I mean to say the archangels and I considered it would be a good time to bring about the Second Coming?” Aziraphale almost felt pity for Metatron, he sounded pretty feeble. But then he recalled how Metatron had threatened Crowley, and any sympathy vanished like sand in the wind.
“I do not recall giving approval for that initiative Enoch.”
“It’s just well… you’ve not given approval for any initiatives in four thousand years, my Lord.”
“Have you thought that is because I don’t like your ideas?” She shook her head in dismay. “Fortunately, I’ve cleared up your mess. They’ll be no apocalypse for at least another six millennia. Think of it is a change freeze.”
“Yes. My Lord.”
“Good. Now. Get back to work. I’m sure they’re some scriptures that still need transcribing.” She dismissed him without a second glance as he scurried away. No. Her gaze rounded squarely on Aziraphale now. Aziraphale was terrified he’d displeased Her in some way. He would never regret his friendship with Crowley, but She could hardly be happy for them to be cavorting in that manner. But then again, She had indicated that She wanted them together.. romantically. Aziraphale felt the heat rise at that idea.
“Aziraphale. Principality. Guardian of the Eastern Gate. You have displeased me.” She announced and a flood of fear swept through him. Maybe She wanted them to be together romantically but that didn’t excuse the gluttony he partook in, or the lustful thoughts he’d been experiencing lately.
“I’m sorry. Honestly. I’ll do better my Lord. I’ll not have any more oysters. I’ll even go without wine..” It would be a boring existence without those vices, but he could do it if She willed it.
“I do not care about your food consumption.” She interrupted with Her hand raised to signal his silence. “I could forgive you giving away my sword, but I cannot forgive you hurting the demon who has named himself Crowley. Just when I finally thought it was time, everything was poised for your copulation together, he’d confessed andkissed you. You. Ruined. It.”
“Copulation?” Aziraphale stumbled over the word before his eyebrows drew together considering the rest of Her sentence. “I.. didn’t mean to ruin it. I would have confessed too. But.. well.. Metatron..”
“Enoch will be dealt with. But you Aziraphale are going to fix things.” She pointed at him forebodingly. “You cannot leave me waiting now. Not like that. No. You will confess your love to the demon and live happily ever after. Or else.”
Aziraphale didn’t dare ask what that or else was. “I.. err… suppose I should get in the lift then?”
“See that you do.” She ushered him along, watching as he desperately jabbed the button for Earth. He was rather disconcerted by the enthusiasm She was currently taking in his love life.
Just before the lift doors slid shut he heard Her voice clear as a bell. “I’ll be watching Aziraphale. Don’t forget.”