Chapter Text
It is a nice day. No clouds in the sky, a gentle breeze, birds singing. In a London park that almost stopped existing, two man-shaped beings stand in front of an ice cream cart. They are regulars: the man serving them knows which one takes the ice cream and which one takes the popsicle. He hands them over and raises an eyebrow when they switch their treats. The man’s memory must be playing tricks with him. He has had some trouble sleeping last night.
He puts the money they just handed him in his tiny safe that serves as a register. When he lifts his eyes, they’re both gone, nowhere to be found. No one could ever walk that fast.
He sighs, rubs his eyes. He really needs a coffee.
‘’But we built this place for you specially. It shall be your place of trial. And it shall be your place of destruction.’’
They had spent the night before practicing, but it was mostly to hide the fact that they both could imitate the other perfectly after centuries of friendship. Crowley’s shoes, while perfectly suited for Crowley’s feet, are feeling too tight, as if they know that it isn’t Crowley that is filling them.
‘’Guys, you shouldn't have gone to all the trouble. What appears to be the problem?’’
‘’Ah. Aziraphale. So glad you could join us.
Be polite. Be polite. Polite is what Aziraphale does. He wouldn’t snap, he wouldn’t be snarky. He wouldn’t be mean. Crowley breathes through Aziraphale’s nose. The angel would, however, be just a bit sassy. Just a bit of a bastard, really.
‘’You could have just sent a message. I mean, a kidnapping in broad daylight.’’
‘’Do you have anything to say before we take our vengeance on you?’’
Bluffing is not Aziraphale’s strongest suit, as can be proved by his very short career as a spy. Being in Crowley’s corporation helps settle his nerves. He tries to channel Crowley’s cool attitude, his ‘’who cares’’ demeanor.
‘’What's it to be? An eternity in the deepest pit?’’
‘’Don't talk to me about the greater good, sunshine. I'm the Archangel fucking Gabriel. The greater good was we were finally going to settle things with the opposition once and for all.’’
Crowley wonders if they’ll burn him here, in the great empty room that he doesn't remember ever seeing, back when he was an angel. Maybe they built it just for him. Well, just for Aziraphale, but tomayto, tomahto.
‘’I don't suppose I can persuade you to reconsider? We're meant to be the good guys, for Heaven's sake.’’
‘’No, we're going to do something even worse. Letting the punishment fit the crime.’’
Right, this is his time to shine. Two lower-grade demons whose name escapes Aziraphale’s memory (not that Crowley’s likely to remember it either) grab his arms, pulling him towards a door, followed by Beelzebub. They’ll lead him to a pool, or a bathtub full of holy water. He’s had the time to think of some fun little jokes, if he feels courageous. Maybe he’ll ask for a rubber duck.
‘’Well, for Heaven's sake, we are meant to make examples out of traitors. So…’’
He does his best to keep his face on the perfect balance between calm and afraid. Can’t have them realize the trick now, not when they’re so close to their goal. After this, he’s taking his angel to the Ritz. He can already hear the piano, taste the wine.
The door opens. Even through the dark lenses, Aziraphale recognizes heaven immediately. Crowley-as-Aziraphale is seated in a chair, wrists tied to it. The demons plop down Aziraphale-as-Crowley right next to him, on a chair that wasn’t there a moment before. Beelzebub and Gabriel smirk, before pulling out a book. The book.
Aziraphale’s face drops so quickly that Crowley’s glasses nearly slip from his nose. Crowley forgets himself and goes to push them back up, only to be stopped by the restraints, tied much more tightly than they look. They exchange a glance.
‘’Now, Crowley, don't fret. I’m not erazzzing your entire existence.’’
‘’Same for you, Mr. traitor. What would be the fun in that?’’
The archangel and the grand duke share a look. It becomes increasingly apparent that while Crowley and Aziraphale were plotting down on Earth, their two celestial bosses had been doing much the same up here.
‘’No, and anyway, it wouldn’t solve our problem. The war still has to happen, and it can’t now, not with your intruzzzion. And, to top it all, if we erase you, the history of the earth crumbles, becauzzze you two have been meddling for far too long.’’
‘’So we thought ‘’uh, wouldn’t things be great if they were just, out of our picture, but not out of the whole picture?’’ And then, we remembered that, oh, we can absolutely do just that.’’
Gabriel opens the Book of Life. Uriel is close to shaking from excitement. Beelzebub pulls out a plume from their breast pocket, entirely too big to have fitted there without a miracle.
‘’What will happen is thizzz. We will rewrite history, from the beginning. You two will still be there. As humans, though.’’
Gabriel’s smile is growing more and more predatory by the second. ‘’You will live, and die, and live, and die, again and again and again, until we circle back to Armaggedon. And then, it will happen, because you two idiots will not be there to stop it.’’
It really is a shame that swapping corporations doesn’t come with a telepathic link. Aziraphale and Crowley both turn to each other, helpless and terrified. Aziraphale can recognize the way Crowley moves his eyebrows, even if he does it with the angel’s face. Words can’t express the emotions thundering in both of them, the grief and the disappointment and the horror and the fear and the love. Crowley finds his tongue, or rather Aziraphale’s, first.
‘’I will find you.’’
A promise, then. The only thing they can give each other now. Aziraphale lowers his face so the glasses fall in his lap.
‘’As will I.’’
‘’Isn’t that touching. Right, off we go.’’
Beelzebub raises their plume. ‘’Bye bye, boyzzz.’’
They press it to the book, and the second the ink flows, the atmosphere changes. The demon and the angel can feel their atoms realigning, the shape of time itself swirling around them.
Just before his body disappears fully, Crowley yells, filling the never-ending room with Aziraphale’s voice. ‘’I’ll come to you. I will. Angel I - ‘’
With a gust of wind, they’re gone, the two chairs empty, pieces of rope fallen to the ground.
‘’Ah-ah! Wonderful. Oh, this really takes some weight off my shoulders.’’
‘’Tell me about it. Crowley’s been a pain in my… What’s the expression? Well, he’s been annoying me for 6000 yearzzz.’’ Beelzebub drops the plume back in their coat, stopping themselves at the last second, confusion dawning on their face. ‘’Hey, why did Aziraphale call him ‘’Angel’’?’’
Gabriel pauses, considering, before waving his hands dismissively. ‘’Probably something to do with their attachment. Humans have been using it as a term of endearment, I think.’’
Beelzebub chuckles. ‘’Bit of a bitchy move, if you ask me, considering…’’
On earth, unnoticeable from heaven, everything is changing. Continents are moving, time rolls back, people revert to being children and babies and mere atoms floating around, corpses go through their lives in reverse only to disappear again in the blink of an eye.
Aziraphale and Crowley’s souls leave each other’s bodies. In the last moment before both their ethereal and occult souls lose their celestial powers, they feel a pull. A connection.
Maybe Agnes wasn’t completely wrong. Maybe they had just misunderstood why they needed to switch faces.
As things finally settle down, Eve grabs the apple, tempted not by a serpent this time, but just by being human. She takes a bite.
History restarts.
Once more, it begins, as it will end, in a garden.