Chapter Text
Anthony sat at a table in a café writing another chapter of a new book about Astrophysics. He sipped a double espresso. The clock was striking 4:00 pm. Soon Aziraphale would be closing the bookshop and they would return home together. It was a normal day in London like all the others. Cloudy, rainy. Nothing special. Nothing that could indicate…
Suddenly Anthony felt dizzy. The letters doubled and jumped on the laptop screen. He looked at the coffee and instead of one cup he saw two. A sharp headache arrived. Anthony slumped against the back of the chair staring at the ceiling. He did not understand what was happening to him. Never before had anything like this happened to him.
“Everything alright?” a waitress approached Anthony concerned about the customer’s condition.
“Yes” Anthony replied hastily looking at her with a lost expression.
It was getting worse and worse. He got up unsteadily from the table leaving the laptop behind. He had to get some fresh air. He barely reached the door and collapsed against the frame feeling his legs refuse to obey him. He looked ahead feeling that he was about to faint. He stepped outside the café trying somehow to reach the bookshop but suddenly he was blinded by a bright, irritating light.
Suddenly he found himself in a garden. A strange familiar place which he had never seen before. He looked around stunned. He understood nothing. Carefully he looked around. It smelled of morning dew there. He approached a tiny pond and saw his reflection in the surface of the water. He saw himself there but… with strange yellow eyes?
He backed away terrified tripping over an exposed tree root, falling backwards.
Beside himself he saw a red fruit resembling an apple. The fruit lay on the grass even though there were no fruit trees nearby. Suddenly he heard an echo. “You drive too fast for me Crowley.” Anthony turned around but there was nobody there. Who was Crowley?
“Hey” suddenly a voice rang out, pulling him from the trance “What’s going on?”
Anthony raised his gaze and realized that he was sitting against a building wall and in front of him knelt a worried Aziraphale.
“I don’t know” Anthony forced out stunned “I think I had hallucinations” he swallowed looking around in terror.
“Calm down” Aziraphale placed a hand on his shoulder “I’m here with you. Tell me exactly what happened”
“I… saw some garden. And I think I had some contact lenses. And there was someone named Crowley” Anthony looked into Aziraphale’s eyes “I think something is wrong with me”
“Let’s not assume the worst. It could have been exhaustion. Anything” Aziraphale looked at him with concern.
“You know perfectly well how old we are this could be dementia, a brain tumor” Anthony had tears in his eyes. He was afraid. He knew hallucinations were a serious health signal. Especially ones so realistic.
“Stop talking like that. First go get tested, later we’ll worry” Aziraphale gently took his hand.
“Okay…” Anthony decided to pull himself together. For Aziraphale. Even though he was scared as hell. The prospect of death had always seemed terrifying to him. Simply… disappearing. And what then? Nothing.
“Can you stand up?” Aziraphale asked gently.
Anthony nodded feeling nausea wash over him. He grabbed Aziraphale’s hand rising shakily from the ground.
A few days later Anthony waited impatiently in the waiting room for the results of the head tomography. His blood test results were perfect. He came to pick up the tomography results alone, because if it was the diagnosis of some tumor… he preferred to keep such information to himself. At least for some time. Suddenly from behind the reception door a young woman came out holding a folder in her hand.
“Mr. Anthony…” she did not even manage to read the surname because the owner of the tests sprang from the chair as if burned. He snatched the folder from the woman’s hand without even looking at her. Suddenly the waiting room became terribly quiet, and Anthony could hear only the beating of his own heart. He could not open the folder. He was afraid of what he would see there. This moment seemed to last forever. Finally he gathered himself and with a trembling hand opened the folder. What he saw left him stunned. He ran up to the woman who was already at the door.
“These are wrong results. You mixed something up” Anthony looked at her in shock.
The woman looked through the documents.
“No. These are your results. There is no possibility of a mistake”
Anthony could not understand that he was healthy. At least physically. He had no tumor, nothing that could indicate a bad condition of his head. One thing remained… a psychiatrist. That was an even worse vision. A tumor at least can be treated and dementia or schizophrenia? No. The prospect of forgetting everything had always terrified him. The fear came from nowhere but that was how it was. Dementia was his greatest nightmare.
“fuck” Anthony said under his breath almost dropping the folder onto the floor.
For now he did not intend to inform Aziraphale about the results - even the positive ones. First a visit to the psychiatrist awaited him. He did not know what he would do if his worst fears were confirmed.
He got into the car slamming the door. He hit the steering wheel with his hand out of helplessness and leaned against the seat staring ahead. Suddenly he heard a voice. An echo.
That’s not you.
He felt faint. It was so realistic, exactly as if someone were sitting beside him and saying it. Now voices in his head had arrived too?
Look at me!
Suddenly the voice shouted aggressively. Anthony looked in the mirror above himself in terror. He could do nothing else. He could not even move. In the mirror he saw himself. But… another version of himself. That one sat in the back of the car, arms crossed over his chest. He had such strange eyes… like… a snake’s? And red hair. He looked very disappointed.
“you do not exist. You are only in my head” Anthony said loudly feeling panic rise inside him.
“Really?” the figure in the back shouted frustrated “For so long you suffocated me inside yourself. So many years! Do you know how boring that is? Enough of this buddy”
“who are you and what do you want” Anthony still did not move from his place. He only stared at the mirror.
“Im you. But you remember nothing. But how can I blame you you did it to yourself” the figure in the back of the car shrugged nonchalantly.
“What do you want?” Anthony himself could not believe that he was talking to a hallucination.
“I want to remind you. And fix it” the figure said straightening up “before it’s too late”
“Too late?” Anthony felt terror rising within him.
“Yes for Satan sake! You finally have to wake up! Aziraphale won’t manage. Sorry it fell on you. Or more on me…” the figure said in a strange tone of voice. As if ironic.
“You said it might be too late. What does that mean?” Anthony asked almost in a whisper.
“I probably don’t need to make you aware that you are… Ugh… we are mortal” the figure fell silent for a moment.
“What do you mean by that?”
“Aziraphale” the figure said with complete seriousness “I’m not going to explain everything to you now but you’ll figure it out yourself. The thing is, you have to remember. Then you’ll know what to do”
“How?” Anthony asked cautiously feeling himself lose his mind.
“Figure something out damn it! I do not exist in the material world! For now. Wait… maybe Queen? Buy yourself a record I don’t know!” the figure waved its hands around.
“Earlier when I had hallucinations… do you know Crowley?” Anthony could not take his eyes off the mirror.
“First of all I am not a hallucination” the figure looked at him hostilely “and secondly do I know him? Don’t make me laugh! I am Crowley nice to meet you. Ah and you are him too”
“What?” Anthony understood nothing.
“It’s hard to explain but let’s call me… hm. Your alter ego?” Crowley shrugged “You know like in the movie Fight Club. You are the narrator. But the thing is, you are not crazy”
“I haven’t watched that movie” Anthony replied shyly.
“And that is exactly why you are not yourself. I watched all the cinema classics” Crowley smiled.
“how am I supposed to know you are not a hallucination?” Anthony was a rationalist. He did not believe in ghosts and those kinds of things.
“For Satan’s sake! Just… let the angel go to the doctor then you’ll have proof!” Crowley… the alter ego… seemed rather explosive.
“Angel?” Anthony still did not move from his place. He did not even turn around.
“Sorry. You don’t know. I mean Aziraphale” Crowley clarified.
Suddenly Anthony heard knocking on the car window which completely pulled him from the trance. He turned around at last finally able to do so. Of course there was nobody there. The knocking on the window rang out again. Anthony hurriedly lowered the window.
“Your parking time has expired. 15 minutes overtime. Unfortunately I have to give you a ticket” behind the window was a man in a reflective jacket.
“How much?” Anthony went pale. It turned out that he had been talking to thin air for an hour.
“15 minutes. Here is the ticket. To be paid within a week” the man handed him a piece of paper.
Anthony took it still unable to recover. He hurriedly drove away in the car fearing for his sanity.