Chapter Text
Aziraphale looked around at the destruction around him, the great vastness of the universe stretching around him and felt numb inside. Archangel Michael and Uriel had just finished singing his praise about how many angels he led into victory, how many of their rebellious brethren he slain, and yet all he could feel was nothing inside. He knew he should feel proud, he should feel like he contributed to the great cause and kept Her true plan in motion, but did it have to come down to killing those who he once stood with? Those he was created with, who helped build the universe, the cosmos, Earth? That was the question he was still grappling with himself over as he hesitated following the archangels back to ranks.
Continuing to struggle with what he had done, Aziraphale took out his sword and lit it with the eternal flame. He stared into the flickering flames for half a second before feeling himself being grabbed from behind and pressed into the chest of an intruder.
“Give me the sword angel, and no one gets hurt.” The voice hissed. Aziraphale’s heart seized, one of the rebels! But according to Uriel and Michael they had slain them all, and any who weren’t killed were cast down! Aziraphale swallowed hard.
“Alright, alright.” Aziraphale said, trying to keep his voice steady. He handed over the sword to the rebel, and was quickly pushed away allowing him to turn around and face whoever was threatening him. As soon as his reflection became clearer in the Eternal Flames light, Aziraphale felt the dawning of realization hit him like a comet.
The red hair, although longer and messier, was the same curls that bounced freely in the vacuum of space. His eyes, cold and distance, were the same warm brown that had sparkles when talking about nebulas and star banks. It was the angel he had helped start the universe, and he had sided with the rebels.
“I-It’s you.” Aziraphale whispered. The angel backed up holding out the flaming sword in warning. “D-Don’t you remember, I’m Aziraphale.”
“All I know is you’ve killed all those angels.” The angel hissed. Aziraphale noted that the sword was shaking, he briefly glanced down and saw a trickle of gold running down his leg. “All for not going along with your precious God’s plan.’
“We started the universe! I helped you crank up the plans!” Aziraphale tried again.
“The only thing you’ll help me with is allowing me to get out of here without the archangels finding…..AH….” The angel dropped the sword and fell to the ground on his knees, rolling over on his back and clutching his leg. Aziraphale was at his side in a flash, helping him lean against one of the walls of the altar so he could examine him.
“Oh dear.” Aziraphale gasped looking at the gash on the angel's leg. “You need bandaging up.” The angel tore a piece of his sash and wrapped it around the angel's leg quickly stopping the ichor from seeping. “That should hold until you get to safety, but you’ll need someone to heal it or you’ll discorporate.”
“Why are you helping me?” The angel demanded. “I’m a rebel. I went against God’s plan.” Aziraphale was stunned into silence at the ex-angels' question. Why did he help him? Was it because of their brief encounter at the start of the universe? Was it because of something he felt deep in his chest when he chatted with him about the stars and the ‘Great Plan’? He couldn’t say. But something drove him to help this angel, rebel or not, because he just couldn’t see another one die. He had seen too much death over these past few months.
Before Aziraphale could respond, voices caused himself and the angel to snap their heads up. “Aziraphale! Where are you?” Uriel demanded in the distance. Aziraphale knew he had to work quick.
“Here.” Aziraphale whispered, helping the angel stand up. He was a bit shaky but kept his balance as Aziraphale dragged him away. “There’s some steps heading down a little past the Eternal Flame. If you go now you should be able to go before Uriel sees you.”
“Should I say thank you?” The angel asked sarcastically. Aziraphale bit his lip.
“Probably not.” Aziraphale admitted, a deep hollow feeling appearing in his chest. This would probably be the last time he’d see this angel, and this was their final conversation.
“AZIRAPHALE!”
“Coming!” Aziraphale called before turning back to the angel urging him to go. The angel took one last look at Aziraphale before limping off. Aziraphale picked up his flaming sword once more and stared at the dancing flames before looking back at the angel who was becoming nothing more than a spec in his line of vision.
“Good luck.” He said softly, making the angel pause. He turned to look at Aziraphale, gave a curt nod, then continued to limp off. Aziraphale took a deep breath, turned to face the void where the archangels and the troops waited for him, and continued off.