Chapter Text
All of Heaven is disgustingly bland and bright. Although Aziraphale would never admit it aloud, Heaven was a rather grueling place to be. For starters, An angel was always barking orders at you. Then when you finished, say, cleaning the floors or something along those lines, they’d spit their coffee out and say “Oh look at that! You missed a spot!” Because why wouldn’t they? Heaven was supposed to be the good guys. But Aziraphale tended to notice nobody was living up to that title.
Aziraphale was punched by angels before. He was fat-shamed by the Former Supreme Archangel before. He’s been threatened, violated, guilt-tripped and manipulated by angels before. And yet, here he is. In Heaven. Working alongside Metatron, the Voice of God Herself to initiate the Second Coming.
I mean, it wouldn’t be that bad except for the fact that he was totally against the idea of humanity dying out in a slow, agonizing death. One-third of the seas turning to blood? Come on, that’s blasphemous.
And Crowley. But Aziraphale doesn’t want to think about him right now.
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Doors Opening. Welcome to Heaven.
I stepped out into the last place I wanted to be, and I watch my clothes change to that oh-so familiar white uniform.
This is good, I tell myself. It’s for the greater good.
“Well, Aziraphale-“ The Metatrons voice startles me. “How do you like it?”
“Erm..” I look around me, acting like I was very intrigued by the bright scenery. “It’s very…neat!” Sigh. I was never good at lying. Lying?
Crowley.
The name rings through my head.
Not now.
“Neat indeed, Aziraphale.” There’s a moment of silence, of unease. “Well, how should we start?”
Already? But we just got here!
“Start? Well, um.. would you show me where I’ll be working?”
“Of course. Follow me.”
We went down multiple hallways, windows with views of blue skies, sunrises, other buildings, and sunsets. The interior architecture remained the same. Each footstep echoed loudly across the empty space. It seemed like forever until we finally reached my office. One huge, luxurious office.
All white, of course. But it had multiple bookshelves, different paintings from different eras (eras that I particularly favored), a large wardrobe and a queen-sized bed, even though angels don’t need sleep. Now this, this I could get used to.
I gave my thanks to Metatron, and as he walked off I shut the door behind me. I breathe in the room. Silence. So much silence.
Listen. Do you hear that?
I don’t hear anything.
That’s the point. No Nightingales.
Stop. Stop it, now.
I don’t want this. I don’t want this at all!
I feel pricking at my eyes. Oh, for Satan’s sake, it doesn’t matter anymore. I let everything go. Tears stream down my face, going at a thousand miles. My knees go weak, I’m falling.
Falling!
The cries of a thousand fallen angels all those millennia ago. Crowley. Crowley!
I hit my bed, luckily. At this point, I’m failing to contain my loud and obnoxious sobs. Oh no, they can probably hear me. I’ll most likely be getting interrogated by Michael or Uriel later. Worst case scenario, The Metatron himself. What will I say? Nothing. I always say nothing.
I’m a pathetic excuse for an angel.
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“Oh, for fucks sake!”
🎶 WHEN LOVE BREAKS UP!
WHEN THE DAWN LIGHT WAKES UP! 🎶
“I will sell you for scraps. Scraps!”
I take another swig of my drink. God, what is this, my fifth bottle?
I try to sit up, and get immediately clouded with static. I feel like throwing up. Why have I been drinking in my car?
Why do I do anything anymore?
Whatever.
I do a careless miracle to clean up my car, and turn off that blasted song. I leave the half-empty bottle inside. I need to stop. I need to sleep.
I drowsily, and very drunkly walk into my flat.
“Oooohhhhh GGGRREEENERRRYYY!!! I’ve come… to DROWWNNNNYOOUUUUuhhh!”
I secretly like my plants. Don’t tell them that though. Truth is, I talk to them when I have nobody else to talk to. And right now, I’m pretty damn desperate for somebody. Anybody.
I take my plant mister, and… watering tool, whatever that is and start hacking away at these things.
“You think after 6000 years he’d say yes, right? nnnoooooOOPPPEE! Nahhh, instead… inSTEAD he has to go with the BIG GUYS! The BIG GUYS with all the power! Power in the wo-universe.. Him with his stupid looking…curly white hair and his LiTtLe QuAiNt BoWtIe, OoOOoH!”
The aftertaste of all the alcohol starts to emerge onto my tongue.
“Ngk. Alright, I’m packin’ it in. Goodnight, pEaSaNtS!”
Maybe when I wake up, he’ll be right beside me, and none of today’s events had actually happened. Oh please, God, let that happen.
With a snap of my fingers, I change into my black silk, and I don’t have my sunglasses anymore. I feel vulnerable.
I don’t like it.
I climb into my bed and close my eyes. I fall asleep instantly. Wow, I was more tired than I thought I was.
I dream about him.
I dream about him, right there with me. We’re in the park, and nobody else is around but us. There’s ducks in the pond, and it’s that kind of sunset where the sky is pink and orange, with only a few clouds littering the view, and there’s a chimney smell in the air or wood burning. You can hear the birds chirping before they go to their rest for the night.
He tells me that he loves me. He puts his arms around me, and hangs on like he’ll never let go. It feels so nice. I feel so free.
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
My eyes jump open. Oh.
Oh.
It was just a dream.
Yeah, no. Just a dream.