Archive of Our Own ^beta

The person dressed the second-blackest whistled and held up a red card. Red and black… Those were the last thoughts Warlock had, before he fell face first into a artificial turf, which, it turned out, was less soft than real grass.

Maybe if he’d been more focused on where he was running instead of his observations, his knee wouldn’t have ended up matching the colour scheme. 

As it were, Warlock sat up slowly to look in terror at the worst injury he’d ever sustained in his young life and the whistle was blown again.

All of a sudden, the birds stopped singing, the wind stopped blowing, ominous steps approached him and he was picked up. Red and black again. Warlock hugged his nanny fiercely and cried into her shoulder.

“Sh, sh, sh. Do you want to show Nanny your knee, dear?” she said quietly and stroked the back of his head with her thumb.

“I’m bleeding!”

“Mmh, I saw from the sidelines. Does it hurt?”

“U-huh…” he said and clutched her more tightly.

“Tsk, useless grass, it’s going to regret that, I can tell you that,” she said darkly and Warlock imagined that all of the grass must have suddenly stood at attention, trembling in fear. ¹ He smiled just a little and drew back to see. Only that he now also saw his leg again… His bottom lip wobbled again and Nanny began to carry him off the field.

“We’ll need to wrap that, so it won’t scar,” she said with a simplicity that was kind of reassuring.

“… But what if it’s a cool scar?”

“Hm… we still don’t want it to get infected and swell,” she said, and Warlock supposed not.

Once they were off the field again, the football match continued. Some of the nearby parents gave Warlock sympathetic looks as they came past, because it really must have looked super bad and incredibly painful. And it was. His eyes welled up again and he sniffed.

Nanny sat him down on a bench where his coach had been waiting with an open backpack filled with all kinds of packs and gauzes. He took out a spray bottle and sprayed the grass with it. … Was he punishing it as if the blades were little long green cats? Served it right.

“Here, that’s to clean up your knee. Then we can put a bandage on and you’ll be right as rain.”

Warlock stared. That was for his bleeding hurting wound? “What?”

“Yeah, that scrape is probably a little large for a plaster.”

His coach aimed it at his leg and Warlock ducked away before it could hit him, hugging his Nanny again, who was sitting next to him.

“NO!”

She wrapped an arm around him. “It’s alright, let him. Or do you think I’d let him hurt you?”

Warlock peered up and shook his head slowly.

Tentatively, he stretched his leg out again, his coach aimed again and Warlock’s leg flinched away all on his own.

“NO!” He wasn’t having anyone touching that. No. He knew it would hurt. He just did. It already hurt so bad!

Warlock leaned into his Nanny’s side and waited tensely. He could feel her stare on him.

“Well, in that case, we won’t.”

Warlock’s head flew up. “Really?”

The coach raised an eyebrow too.

“Really. Nothing we can’t sort out at home. Thank you, coach, I think that will be it. We’ll be back on Thursday.”

The coach nodded and bid them goodbye. He was always very nice to Nanny. Warlock thought that must have been, because he was even more scared of her than the grass was.

“But what if I’m dead on Thursday?”

“Satan wouldn’t allow it.”

“Okay.”

Nanny was carrying him again, which was good, seeing as he was wounded. He rested his head against her shoulder and took a deep breath. She smelled like home and smoke and lavender – very evil lavender.

“…Thank you.”

“Don’t say that unless you’re manipulating.”

She kissed the top of his head, anyway. If it hadn’t been for his grave injury, he would have smiled a little (But of course he didn’t!).

Truth be told, one of his favourite things of his football matches was that usually Nanny was the only one that took him.² Not that he liked that part in and of itself, but what it meant was that they didn’t take one of the town cars. They took Nanny’s.

And he was sure it was a retired racecar. With a black leather booster seat just for him. Warlock loved it.

Once inside and buckled up, he stroked the dashboard, leaving four little oily streaks. “Hey. We’re back already because I got hurt, see? But Nanny picked me up and I was very brave. And I won’t die on Thursday!”

The car radio turned on: “Another one bites the dust, Another one bites the dust.
And another one gone, and another one gone-”

Nanny had walked around the car and got into the driver’s seat, starting the engine. “Stop being so dramatic.”

Warlock smirked. He knew she wasn’t talking to him.

And as if to rile Nanny up, the song switched as they got back onto the road.

“Too late, my time has come

Sends shivers down my spine, body's aching all the time

Goodbye, everybody, I've got to go

Gotta leave you all behind and face the truth” The volume turned up.

“MAMAAA-”

Nanny growled and took a turn so sharp the wheels squeaked. “That’s, enough.”

The radio fell silent. Warlock held back a giggle. Then very quietly: “Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me, for me, for meeeee…”

“You think you’re very clever, huh? Just don’t scare the kid,” she growled.

The guitar solo came on and Warlock looked out of the window as they raced past at least a thousand trees a second. “It’s alright, I’m not scared,” he whispered conspiratorily to the car.

“… Did you say something?”

Warlock bit his lip and shook his head quickly, not looking in her direction.

Eventually, they arrived back home and Nanny parked her car. Now that the car had stopped, Warlock found that his knee was still bloody and still burning and still stinging just as much as before. If not worse.

“Alright, we’re home, hellion,” she said and got out. Meanwhile the secret service agents she’d lost were just catching up with them.

After a few seconds, she opened the car door. “Are you coming?”

Warlock stared back.

“Can’t you walk?”

He shook his head.

“Double negative? I invented those, you know. So you can?”

He scowled.

“Fine.” She held her arms out expectantly and Warlock unbuckled his seatbelt and half-climbed into her arms. To be honest, this being injured-business wasn’t so bad, if you ignored the agony. Maybe he could get ice cream, too. Like when his throat hurt. ³ But instead of inside (towards the kitchen), Nanny walked into the garden and Warlock twisted his head as he peered after the door.

“Where are you going?”

“What does it look like?”

“The garden?”

She gave a nod.

“Are we- oh, are we going to Brother Francis?”

As if called, a blond head popped up from behind a rosebush Nanny had been walking towards.

“Oh, hello Mx Ashtoreth, hello young Master Warlock. Aren’t you home a little early? Was it a quick game?”

“No, they’re still playing, but- but I-” Warlock looked at his leg miserably.

“But- oh. Oh no, did you get hurt? I’m so sorry, does it hurt a lot?” Brother Francis said with a frown and Warlock found that yes, it didn’t look good at all and it hurt very terrible, actually, seeing as he couldn’t even walk…

-

Crowley handed the crying child over to Aziraphale, who dropped his shears and even had the decency to look sorry, the bastard.

“I already had him distracted from it,” he hissed.

“I didn’t mean to!”

“Well, you can calm him down now. I’m getting the whale.”

“Why doesn’t he have a plaster?” he asked just as quietly. Although it wasn’t as if the little boy could hear him over the crying.

“He didn’t want the disinfectant, so I brought him home. Maybe you could…?”

“Of course, leave it to me. I’m good at distractions.” Aziraphale’s eyes did their annoying twinkling thing that wasn’t sweet and Crowley turned away. “Thanks,” he mumbled (manipulatively), and went inside.

-

Warlock found that Brother Francis’s arms were much softer than Nanny’s, but just as nice. It was like he had a force-field around them and nothing bad could ever get close to them.

Brother Francis sat Warlock down on one of the cushioned garden chairs and handed him a really long, colourful handkerchief he’d just pulled out of his sleeve. Warlock wiped his face on it and snorted and hiccuped.

“Poor boy. Now how much does it hurt on a scale from one to ten?”

Warlock sniffed. “A lot.”

“Oh dear, now that won’t do.”

Warlock shook his head sullenly.

“So it hurts right here, yes?”

Warlock nodded again.

“What about here?” he pointed at the other leg and Warlock shook his head.

“And here?” No, his arm didn’t hurt either.

“What about here?” Brother Francis booped Warlock’s nose and a smile tugged on his lips.

“No.”

“And here?”

Warlock smiled and shook his head. “But that’s your nose!”

The gardener looked at his own nose a bit cross-eyed, still pointing at it. “My word, I think it is!”

Warlock giggled.

“And does this hurt?” He pointed at the table.

“Yes.” Warlock felt very cheeky.

“Oh dear! Now what can we do about all that?”

Warlock shrugged and looked at him expectantly.

“How about…” he did his special magic hand twirl and conjured up… “my special cooling spray?”

Warlock narrowed his eyes sceptically.

“Oh! I can see we have a doubter amidst our midst! You don’t believe me it will cool it?”

Warlock shook his head and the gardener gasped comically.

“My, we’ll have to put that to the test, then!” He sprayed it onto his own arm and acted like it was very cool.

Warlock squinted. Maybe he was just acting.

“Still don’t believe me? Why, try it out on your own arm!”

Warlock narrowed his eyes, ready to expose him and held his arm out daringly.

“Ready?”

Warlock nodded and got a little spritz on him arm. Hm. It was a little cool. Well, it was cold. ‘Cool’ was reserved for Nanny’s things. “Okay, you win.”

“So shall we try and see if it helps against your pain?” The gardener asked and Warlock looked a bit unsure again. That was, at least, until he sprayed it onto the table! Warlock giggled. “You’re so silly!”

“Silly? …Me? Yes, probably,” he admitted and winked.

“Now should we try it on there?” The gardener nodded towards Warlock’s scraped knee and Warlock pulled his shoulders up, considering. He was still a little scared, but Brother Francis was acting as if it wasn’t scary at all…

“Okay.”

“Wonderful! Now look at that magnificent cloud up there!”

“What? Which one?”

“The one that looks like a sheep.”

Warlock started looking. “But that’s all of – hey!”

He had to give it to him, Brother Francis was very sneaky!

“What are you two getting up to over here?” Warlock’s mom asked and Warlock spun his head around.

“You can tell your dear mother about how brave you just were,” Brother Francis nudged and Warlock nodded.

“I let him put that on my knee and it didn’t hurt but it could have and I did it anyway!”

“Oh, did you now? That is very brave,” she ran her hand through his hair affectionately and he leaned into it. “Nanny Ash just told me what happened. Are you very sad you had to go home early?”

Warlock shrugged. “It’s fine.”

“Hm, well, be sure to give him some ice cream later on, will you? That should cheer him up a little,” she told the gardener, who nodded dutifully.

“A wise idea. I'm sure it will.”

His mom opened her mouth to say something, when the phone inside rang. “Oh, that’ll be the electrician. I’ve got to run.” She ruffled his hair again and left. 

“Go on, say goodbye to your mother,” Brother Francis whispered.

“BYE MOM!” he shouted hoarsely.

“Thank you!” his mom called back from the inside and waved, before she disappeared again.

“Can we not put it on my knee, please?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“The ice cream. Because it’s cool and stuff. But, I’d rather not lick it off my knee, actually.”

The gardener chuckled. “Very well, we’ll get it with a spoon.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“What was that?” a familiar voice said sharply.

Warlock snapped his head around. “We’re getting ice cream!”

“Nice distraction. Did your mother allow you that?” Nanny asked and came to sit next to him, before noticing the shine on Warlock’s knee. “Oh, did you let Brother Francis touch your knee?”

Warlock grinned. “U-huh!”

“Hm. Impressive,” she said to both of them. And both of them preened. “But don’t you want to say hello?”

“But I did!”

“Not to me…” she said and pulled out—

“WHALE! SNAKE!”

Nanny handed him his plushies and he hugged them tightly to his chest. “Thank you,” Warlock said and Nanny gave him a look.

“Little manipulator.”

“I’m not little!”

“So a big manipulator?”

“Yes!” Like you.

“Excuse me?”

“But I didn’t even say it!”

“…You thought it loudly, hellspawn.”

Warlock looked very annoyed.

“Now how about we actually put a plaster on it?” Brother Francis suggested and held up a little backpack just like his coach had. … Did Nanny bring that too?

“No, I don’t want it!” Warlock pulled his legs to his chest carefully and Brother Francis lowered the backpack again.

“Alright. But whyever not?”

Warlock was a bit surprised that had worked and sniffed. After some consideration he shook his head. “I don’t want you to touch it. It hurts. It’s gonna hurt.” His voice was high-pitched for emphasis and he leaned into his nanny’s side, who automatically wrapped her arm around him. Warlock watched the gardener with suspicion as he took a plaster, opened it, leaned towards Warlock, and—oh, he just gave it to him.

“Here, does it feel coarse or soft?”

“… Soft. But—”

“And what do you think, would maybe one of your soft friends there like to try it out instead?” he offered warmly.

“…Okay. How?”

“It’s not too tricky,” Brother Francis leaned forwards. “You take it like this, put this part on your scrape, and pull off the cover. There you go, nice and careful. Why, just like that. Excellent, you’re a natural.”

Warlock was engulfed in his task, covering his whale in no less than four plasters ⁴. “Done! Look, Nanny!”

“Good job, dear.”

“And how does our aquatic friend feel now that he’s all treated?” Brother Francis asked.

Warlock took a closer look at whale, who seemed quite content with his new accessories. “He feels really good!”

“And would he like it if you had a matching one?” Brother Francis held up another plaster.

Warlock looked at whale and then his leg. “Yeah, he does. But. …Whale’s asking ‘what if it hurts?’”

“Hm, well, that’s a good question from Whale. You can tell him that it won’t.”

“…Do you swear by your blood, soul and bones or cash payment within 10 days?”

Brother Francis gave Nanny a side-eye, who chose to ignore this, “I’ve told you this before: demonic contracts need to be reciprocal; at least on the surface. Besides, you’re underage and not emancipated, so any contracts you do enter aren’t binding, anyway.”

“Yeah, but he didn’t know that!” Warlock called.

“Ah, my bad.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re showing an interest in the, well, a law and I’m sure justice. Anyway, look at what I found in my first aid kit,” Brother Francis said and held up… dino plasters!

“Oh, can I see?” he said and grabbed them.

“If you’re scared, how about you put it on yourself?”

Warlock looked down and shook his head. “…Can you do it?”

“Of course. I promise I’ll be very careful.”

“But I wanna put one on snake because she doesn’t have one yet.”

“Sounds like a good good division of tasks.”

Warlock agreed, and when Brother Francis came closer, he wrapped his arms around his nanny again.

“Ready?”

Warlock nodded into Nanny’s blouse. He squeezed her (and whale and snake) and she held him back just as tightly. Then he felt a bit pressure on his leg.

“And we’re done. Is that alright?”

 Warlock nodded again and looked up.

“Now, was that so bad?” Brother Francis said.

“Yes.”

“And look how brave you were anyway,” 

Warlock smiled.“I was,” he nodded. Then he looked at Nanny and pulled her close to whisper in her ear. “Can you kiss it better?”

“Of course, dear,” she said and did it as lightly as a butterfly. His leg immediately felt better.

“Now how about that ice cream?”

“YES!” Warlock shouted and looked down. “But I can’t walk.”

“Are you sure you can’t walk at all?” Nanny asked. “Maybe you could try it carefully.”

Warlock considered this and moved his leg a bit. “Yes!”

“Yes what?”

“Can’t walk at all.”

“Alright, then,” Nanny snorted and lifted him onto her hip.

“I’m sure the ice cream will help,” Brother Francis said and Warlock gave him a big nod.

They walked past Warlock’s father, who was accompanied by two Secret Service men and currently on the phone. He gave Warlock a smile and a thumbs up. Warlock gave thumbs-up back and his Dad chuckled, before looking serious again.

As they went downstairs to the kitchen, Warlock suddenly grabbed Nanny’s collar stop her. “Wait!”

“What is it?”

“It’s almost lunch! The cook will never let us have any ice cream now…” Warlock said and heaved a heavy sigh.

“But does she have to? Let us, I mean” Nanny said with a smirk and looked over to Brother Francis. “Remember thirteen-oh-nine?”

Warlock frowned. Was that another one of their cryptic codes? He knew ‘Nein’ was German for ‘no’. Maybe they’d stolen ice cream from thirteen Germans and were going to do it again to the cook who it would turn out was a secret German spy, making it 14 “oh nein’s” in total…

Brother Francis seemed to know what that meant, because he gave a long-suffering sigh of his own, before saying, “Fine.”

“Alright, you know your job, then. Warlock, just stick with me,” she instructed and stood close to the wall where they could watch Brother Francis enter the kitchen.

“He’s going to distract her and we are waiting for the right moment to strike, got it?”

Warlock glowed and nodded. “Fourteen “oh nein’s’,” he whispered to himself.

“Huh? Oh never mind, there it is.”

“What?”

“Our moment,” she said and pulled him along the corridor and past the cook that was now standing out there, talking to Brother Francis about making rose jam.

“You see, I read about it in an old French cookbook I found on a flea market and seeing as we have so many roses this year …” Brother Francis said and gave Warlock a little wink, as they walked past.

“The eagle has landed!” he whispered to his Nanny as they got into the kitchen.

“Yes and now the eagle is going to steal some eggs,” she said quietly and went to the freezer, nodding Warlock over to her side.

“Can’t we take ice cream instead like we said?” Warlock asked and craned his head to look inside.

“Good idea. Go on, then, eagle.” She picked him up and held him high enough to reach into the ice cream drawer. Quickly, he picked strawberry, cookies and cream, coffee, a few ice lollies and clutched them as if his life depended on it – and they were cold!

“Got everything?”

He nodded fiercely.

She let him down again and together they made their escape.

“Rose cake, rose jelly, rose wine and I do not mean a rosé,” Brother Francis said with a chuckle as they went past him, before shaking his head. “Oh, but I mustn’t keep you. The roses are calling, as they say,”

“They do?” the cook asked and went back to the kitchen.

“I’m sure they do somewhere,” Brother Francis said and quickly closed the door behind her, before letting out a sigh. “Phew.”

“Good job! But the eagle is melting!” Warlock called, already mostly up the stairs.

“What?” 

“It means you should hurry,” Nanny said with a chuckle.

“I hope he told her ‘danke’.”

“What?”

“That’s German for thanks.”

“Yes, that wasn’t –” she began but was cut off.

“… Nanny?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Hm?”

“I just thought that we should also have hot chocolate. So we don’t get colds. And it would help my leg!” he said quickly and she snorted. They had just reached the top of the stairs.

“Francis, did you hear that?” she looked over her shoulder. Since she was carrying Warlock, he was the only one who could get them.

When Warlock turned his head to look at him too, he was already holding three mugs of steaming hot chocolate.

“Oh, great minds think alike, young Master Warlock” Brother Francis said with a tired smile and Warlock was left to wonder when he had grabbed them.

“And they think so quickly too,” Nanny said dryly.

“Yes, yes they do,” Brother Francis said. “Anyway, where shall we eat all of this?”

“We could go to your eagle’s nest!” Warlock said and Brother Francis frowned.

“I don’t think I have an eagle…”

“No, no, your lair!”

“I certainly don’t have a lair either, like some delinquent,” he huffed and Warlock giggled, even though he didn’t know what that meant.

“Base?” Nanny supplied and Warlock grinned.

“In case you two mean my home, I suppose we can go there. That is, if your arms aren’t getting too cold.”

But as soon as he said it, Warlock’s arms felt fine. Huh. “No, it’s okay.”

And so they decided to go just there. Brother Francis carrying the hot chocolates, Warlock carrying the ice cream and Nanny carrying Warlock. And miraculously, no one spotted them on the way.

“Pssss!” he hissed right into Nanny’s ear. His head was on her shoulder, so he could get really close.

“Hm?”

“I’ve got a surprise.” he whispered.

She raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

“It’s a surprise for you.”

“Go on, then. Spoil it.”

Warlock smiled. “But don’t tell Brother Francis.”

“Okay, I won’t.”

“I got the coffee one just for you. Because you like it. And I don’t actually like coffee.”

She tutted. “You’re not being nice now, are you?”

“No, because I didn’t know Brother Francis' favourite, so I didn’t get it…”

“Hm, well, you did get strawberry, which I happen to know he likes, so go ahead and lie to him.”

“Really?”

“Yesss,” she hissed right into his ear this time, which made him giggle.

The smile Brother Francis gave him, when Warlock told him that he got strawberry ice cream just for him, made Warlock happy he had someone whispering into his ear when to lie!

And he rested his head on her shoulder until they got into the little gardener’s cottage. Surprisingly, neither the ice cream had melted, nor the hot chocolates cooled down!

“It’s just the perfect weather for… that,” Brother Francis said with a smile that made Warlock wonder if he knew when to lie too.

“Can I have an ice lolly?”

“Naturally, take your share of the loot,” Nanny said and sat him down on the couch.

“It’s not loot, it belongs to his family!” Brother Francis called from the kitchen.

“Is it booty?” Warlock asked innocently.

“No.”

“Plunderage!” he called.

“Yes, I think that’s it,” Nanny said with a wink and wrapped an arm around Warlock, who cuddled into her side.

Brother Francis sighed, returning with three bowls and spoons.

“Either way, to a successful… adventure,” He held up his mug.

Nanny did the same. “Cheers. So, how’s your leg, now? Any better?”

Warlock frowned and looked down to his leg, then to his patched-up plushies, then the ice cream.

“Yeah, it’s okay! I can’t wait to scrape my other knee!”