Happy Holidays, stellarcadia!

[goe_mod]

Title: love thy enemy

Recipient: stellarcadia

Rating: T

Pairing: none

Warnings: none

Summary: After a battle, Aziraphale finds himself having to care for an enemy with a familiar face

 

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In the end, Aziraphale’s the only one left standing on the battlefield.

His exploded halo still burns in his hands as he stalks across the length of the now-silent village. The unconscious, wounded humans he heals, chasing away the memories of the horrors that had beset them before sending them on their way. One by one, they stumble away in a dreamlike state, stepping over the fallen demons like they weren’t even there. Which is exactly what Aziraphale had intended.

The demons he smites.

He shows them none of the mercy he’d shown the humans, sending them screaming in agony back to Hell. It’s little more than they deserve, after what they visited on the humans of the village. He works methodically, going through every last nook and cranny of the village. He’s not willing to leave a single Hellion anywhere near the humans he’s placed under his protection.

He’s just cleared out the last demon and healed the last human when he hears the sound of distressed sobbing from somewhere nearby. Following the faint sound back the way he came, Aziraphale finds a house that has collapsed in on itself. He hadn’t sensed any life coming from the rubble when he passed it by earlier, which is why he hadn’t gone inside, but the crying is unmistakable. There’s a child somewhere in there.

Several frantic moments of throwing rubble later, and Aziraphale discovers a bubble of air at the bottom - a bubble sustained with demonic magic. Well, that would explain why he hadn’t been able to sense the humans trapped inside. He can’t imagine why a demon would go to such lengths to shield humans from harm like this.

He still can’t see the humans through the bubble, so he presses his hand against the barrier of demonic energy and forces his own magic through. The barrier screams - something behind the barrier screams - and then the magic shatters and everything is silent. Even the childish sobbing has stopped.

There’s a long, lanky figure lying unconscious on the ground in front of him. Aziraphale kneels to grasp a shoulder, only to recoil at the demonic aura that greets him. He shoves at the demon to flip him over, and when he sees a terrified-looking child under the demon’s body, snatches the child up into his own arms to keep her safe. Then, he prepares to smite the demon.

Two things stop him. One is the child herself, back to sobbing, hands reaching helplessly toward the demon as she cries pitifully for ‘mama’. The other is the demon lying defenseless at his feet. Red hair, snake tattoo, yellow eyes that blink open just long enough to look at him in pained, scared confusion before falling shut again - Aziraphale knows this demon.

They’d met briefly in Eden, before Aziraphale had been recalled to Heaven over all that business with the sword and his following mandatory reeducation. He’d been a snake, then, calling himself Crawly. Well, if the child in Aziraphale’s arms is to be believed, he’s going around these days calling himself ‘mama’.

Aziraphale’s training tells him to smite the demon. Nothing good can come of keeping the demon around on Earth; everyone in Heaven knows that. And yet, there’s something deep inside Aziraphale that is resistant to the idea of hurting Crawly. He tells himself that it’s because he doesn’t want to hurt a defenseless enemy, because it wouldn’t be sporting, but whatever his reasoning, in the end he just can’t bring himself to do it.

Instead, he brings the girl to a human family. He spins a story about the girl being orphaned, adds a little ethereal nudge for good measure, and then he goes back to the ruins for Crawly.

He’d half expected the demon to have left in his absence, but, no, Crawly is lying right where Aziraphale left him. He’s still unconscious, although he stirs when Aziraphale reaches out to touch him, mumbling something unintelligible. There’s a spike of fear that comes as no surprise, but also - trust? Crawly trusts him? Aziraphale is humbled, and a little touched.

He lifts the demon into his arms, surprised at how thin and bony Crawly’s form is. As his head lolls sideways onto Aziraphale’s shoulder, he exhales a soft puff of breath that tickles Aziraphale’s neck. Aziraphale can’t hold back a shiver.

Aziraphale teleports them both away from the village, to a house he’s been living in the next town over. It’s not a far trip, he doesn’t need much magic to make it happen, but it’s still enough angelic energy to make Crawly moan and writhe in pain in Aziraphale’s arms. Aziraphale tightens his grip to keep from dropping Crawly, silently apologizing to him as he carries him to the bedroom at the back of the house.

There’s a bed, not that Aziraphale has been using it for himself. He clears off the dust with a thought and lays Crawly carefully down on the mattress. Then, as he stares down at the unconscious demon in front of him, he considers his options. Healing Crawly with a miracle is out; given how he’d reacted to the small amount of energy earlier - not to mention that horrific scream when Aziraphale shattered his protective bubble - anything stronger will cause more damage than it fixes. And he can’t take him to a human healer; there’s far too much obviously demonic about Crawly for them to avoid suspicion. Which means that Aziraphale is going to have to do this by himself.

Luckily, Aziraphale has worked in enough human sick wards to know what he needs to do. The first thing he needs to do is assess his patient. His skin is hot to the touch, worryingly so even for a demon. He’s bleeding from countless wounds over his body, and as he touches Crawly, Aziraphale can feel the sharp edges of broken bones under the skin. He’d been assuming that Crawly had created his protective bubble around himself and the girl before the house fell, but maybe he hadn’t had the time to react. Maybe he’d been so busy trying to protect the girl that he’d used himself as a shield as the house fell down around them.

Aziraphale still doesn’t know how to react to that, to the idea that a demon would deliberately put himself in danger to protect a human. So he shoves it away where he doesn’t have to think about it for a while, and instead focuses solely on the task in front of him.

Crawly doesn’t even twitch in reaction when Aziraphale uses a small miracle to summon warm water and clean cloths. Nor does he react when Aziraphale starts to gently clean his wounds. His eyes remained closed, breaths coming slow and shallow. His skin, under all the blood and grime, is sickeningly pale. If he were a human, Aziraphale would be worried that he was going to die. As it is, he wonders if he’s going to be able to do enough to keep Crawly from succumbing to his injuries and discorporating.

But he does what he can. He cleans Crawly’s wounds and binds them, straightens and splints the broken bones. Then he waits for Crawly to wake.