Happy Holidays, blueeyedtigress!, Part V

[waxbean.livejournal.com]

As soon as the other angel entered Crowley slammed him against the wall and had the sword against his neck faster than you could say Apocalypse.

The angel’s eyes widened. “I know you,” he said. “I remember you, Anthony Crowley. Before you fell. Back when you were called -” he said Crowley’s real name.

Crowley winced. “Terinael,” he said softly, “I should have known. What other angel would be this twisted?”

Terinael laughed. “And here you are. Grappling with a sword trying to help a washed out old angel fight off an angry doggy. How the mighty have fallen.”

“Shut up,” said Crowley roughly and shoved the blade deeper against Terinael’s neck. A few bright drops of blood appeared. “You’re going to tell me how to stop it. Or I’ll have your head.”

“That wont kill me, you know.”

“No,” Crowley sighed and dropped the Sword. He reached into a back pocket and pulled out a small dagger. “But this will.”

“Really? That little thing? The only way that would work is if I died laughing.”

“It’s a cursed blade. Forged in the fires of hell.” He poked it into Terinael’s ribs. “Think I’m bluffing, just try pushing me.”

“Ah!” Terinael looked rather thoughtful. “That would certainly do it.”

“Yeah, it would, so are you going to play nice?”

“Very well, name your terms.”

“First you tell me how to stop the hellhound. Second, you leave Aziraphale alone, for good. Got it?”

“Why do you care about Aziraphale?”

“We go back a long way.”

Terinael smiled in a way that chilled Crowley’s blood. “Is that all? I’ll tell you what, little snake, I’ll help you with the dog. But Aziraphale is mine.”

Crowley punched him. “This is not a negotiation.”

Terinael wiped the blood of his lip and sniggered. “Oh, this is rich. Do you care for your little friend, Crowley? Aziraphale needs to be taught what happens to those who stray from their path. He needs to repent and he cant do that unless he is punished. It’s for his own good.”

Crowley dragged him up by his collar and held the dagger close to his face. “You let me decide what’s best for Aziraphale,” he hissed. “You’re going to promise to leave him alone. Or I’ll put this through your eye.”

Terinael looked into Crowley’s eyes for a moment and burst out laughing. “This is too good to be true! You’re in love with him, aren’t you? I can see it in your eyes. This is the funniest thing I’ve heard in centuries.”

Crowley froze and then shoved the angel away from himself roughly knocking him to the ground. “So what if I am? I can still kill you.”

“And what good would that do? You won’t know how to stop that dog, and you need me alive to alter my notes.”

“Your what?”

“My report notes. You see I’ve recommended that Aziraphale be disciplined. I haven’t submitted it yet, but it is on my desk. If I die, my successor will simply finish the job.”

Crowley felt his heart drop into his shoes. “You - you can’t.” he said defeated. “He hasn’t done anything wrong.”

“Hasn’t he?” Terinael smirked. “Would you like me to send you the memo? It’s over a foot long.”

“Aziraphale wouldn’t willingly hurt a fly and you know it. Anything he might have done wrong, you – he -” Crowley thought fast, “probably had something to do with me. I’m sure it was my fault. You can’t punish him for that.”

“So he was weak. We do not tolerate weakness.”

“You’re supposed to be the bloody good side!” Crowley screamed desperately. “Are you supposed to be all about forgiveness? He won’t do it again. I- if I stay away from him, he’ll be free of my influence and I swear I’ll keep away from him. I’ll put in a transfer request as soon as this is over!”

Terinael looked thoughtful. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a demon falling in love with an angel before. You really care for him?”

“I’ve just fucking said I do, ’ent I?” Crowley’s grammar went to pieces when he was agitated.

“Then I suggest you give me that blade,” Terinael held his hand out triumphantly. Crowley gave it over and sat down. He felt horribly tired.

“Useful little thing,” said Terinael approvingly. “I’m sure it will come in handy.” He pocketed it.

“What now?” asked Crowley wearily.

“Now, little serpent, I shall show you how forgiving I can be. I shall make a deal with you, on my terms. I will help your beloved angel, undeserving though he may be, dispose of that awful creature and then allow him to continue on his merry way, if you do a little thing for me.”

“What?”

“Tell me, Crowley. What would you do to save your angel?”

Crowley looked down at his hands, not wanting to look at Terinael’s smirking face. “Anything,” he whispered.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Terinael sounded delighted. “I am happy to fulfil all your demands, Crowley, and all you have to do in return is drink this.”

Crowley looked up sharply. Terinael held a little glass bottle.

“What’s that,” Crowley asked faintly, although he had an inkling of what it might be. Terinael always had a twisted sense of humour.

“Holy water, of course. Do you think you’re the only one who carries weapons that will destroy the enemy?”

“But a drop of that is enough to liquidate a demon.”

“This is true.”

“And you want me to drink a bottleful?”

“It’s only fair, don’t you think? Your life for his.” Terinael sneered at him. “Maybe the pain will make you repent your treason. It’s for your own good, you see.”

“Right. And this has nothing to do with you being a sadistic bastard?”

Terinael stopped smiling. “Well, if you’re afraid, you don’t have to do it. But our deal’s off.”

Crowley looked him in the eye. “I am afraid,” he said honestly. “But I’ll do it. Do I have your word?”

“I swear it. On the father, the son and the holy spirit.”

“Good,” Crowley got up. His hands were shaking. “Give me the bottle, you pompous wanker.”

Terinael held it out. Crowley opened it and hesitated.

“Tell Aziraphale - tell him - tell him - fuck it, I can’t think of anything. Think of something good. Tell him I said it.”

Terinael patted his back in a parody of sympathy. “I could always tell him you said you loved him.”

“Yeah,” said Crowley. “That’ll have to do, I guess. Well, bottom’s up. ”

He took a deep breath, screwed his eyes shut and downed the bottle.

***

Ulthar led Aziraphale to a row of tall white flats. “Rootes residences,” he muttered under his breath. “What else?”

Aziraphale always kept some Holy water on him. You never know when it might come in handy. He crept along the corridors following Ulthar at what he hoped was a discrete enough distance until Ulthar ducked into a kitchen.

He pulled out his bottle, uncorked it and walked quietly after Ulthar.

You wouldn’t think it to look at him, because he looked mild and soft and was a bit pudgier than he should have been, but Aziraphale could be pretty fast when he wanted to. Ulthar had barely time to look up before Aziraphale had his neck in a chokehold and the bottle up his left nostril.

“I’d advise you not to move.” Aziraphale said, feeling quite pleased with himself. “You know a drop of this could kill you. Tell me what I want to know and I might let you live”

“Cad you dake it out of by dose, please?”

Aziraphale lowered it a couple of inches. “Fine. Now talk, scum!”

“If you’ve finished playing cowboy, maybe you can tell me what it is I’m supposed to talk about?” Aziraphale could practically hear Ulthar rolling his eyes.

“Yes, right, of course. The hellhound. How do we stop it?”

“There’s an axe in the cupboard under the sink. Cursed, made from iron from the core of the earth, forged in the fires of hell, you know the sort. It won’t kill the beast, but it can hurt it. Which would make it easier to control, I dare say.”

“Good,” said Aziraphale, “It’s so much easier when we all cooperate. Now I’m going to let you go now. But if you try anything funny, I will throw this at you. I’ve been told I have a very good aim.”

Aziraphale let go of Ulthar’s neck and backed towards the cupboard, keeping his eyes and the bottle on Ulthar. He pulled the axe out and nodded to the demon. “Well if you’ll excuse me, I have to go and save the world. Please don’t try to follow me.”

“You know, said Ulthar conversationally, to Aziraphale’s back. “It’s such a shame about poor Crowley. I shall so hate to have him seen to but the poor fellow just has so many black marks on his records that it’s unavoidable.”

Aziraphale turned around slowly. “What do you mean?”

“Well, there’s this business with the hellhound. And then, consorting with the likes of your very good self. It’s frowned upon to, be frank, and saving the world. It’s just not the sort of image that we want to be associated with.”

“What will you do to him?”

“Don’t let that bother you, my good sir. He’s only a demon. Why don’t you just run along? I hear there’s a world that needs saving.”

Aziraphale gripped the axe so tight his knuckles turned white. “He’s not just any demon. He’s my demon, so you tell me what you’re planning to do with him or there won’t be anything left of you to speak of.”

Ulthar nodded musingly. “Yes, I remember you now. You were the angel with the fiery sword. Demoted for misplacing it. It was thought, in retrospect, that you were too soft I believe, but I can see why you were chosen in the first place.”

“I asked you a question,” Aziraphale snarled.

“I am not in charge of sentencing and punishment. I simply write my reports and recommendations. It might interest you to know that I have recommended that Crowley be shown no lenience.”

“Then you can just unrecommend it!”

“Impossible to do so here, I’m afraid. My reports are back at my office under lock and key with over two dozen security demons guarding the premises. All for the look out for angelic presences, as well as other interference. If you tried to stage some sort of coop, I fear you wouldn’t stand a chance.” The demon smiled nastily. “You might as well accept it, Crowley is done for.”

Aziraphale looked down, “No,” he said thickly, “there has to be some way.”

“And why would you care?”

Aziraphale looked up at him. “I care,” he said quietly. “I care because I can’t not.”

Ulthar looked like the fog had suddenly lifted. “I see. There were always rumours but no one believed them. An angel and a demon? It’s ludicrous. And does your demon feel the same way? Do you think he wouldn’t hesitate to throw you to the lions if it was the other way around.”

“Crowley isn’t like that,” snapped Aziraphale. Everything was suddenly very clear. “And even if he is. I don’t care. You don’t understand love. I love him, and it doesn’t matter whether he does or not.”

“Fascinating.” Ulthar’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “But it would seem that I have something that you want so I would be much obliged, Aziraphale, if you would put that bottle down.”

Aziraphale put the bottle on the floor. “What do you want?”

“Nothing that is beyond your grasp to give. A simple trade off, after all that is only fair. Your soul for his.”

Aziraphale nodded. “Jolly good,” he said dully. “I was expecting something like that.” He walked over to Ulthar and handed the axe back. “Go on then.”

“I believe you are misunderstanding me. I said your soul, not your life.”

Aziraphale looked up puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“Answer me this. To save your demon. What are you willing to do?”

“What?”

“What are you willing to do, Aziraphale?”

Aziraphale closed his eyes. “For Crowley? Anything.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

Ulthar walked over to the counter and started to make three cups of tea. Aziraphale watched him disbelievingly. “What are you doing?”

“I do believe young Adam Young -” Ulthar paused to snicker, “ - sng, sng, sng, young Adam Young, oh, sometimes I kill myself.”

“If you don’t get to the point, I’ll happily do it for you,” Aziraphale said through gritted teeth.

“Temper, temper. What would Terinael say? You’re in enough trouble already, my friend. Ah yes, Adam will be along with his lady friend. I have been watching them closely; they will come in here to partake in their supper before embarking on an evening of high jinks and tomfoolery. When they come in, in approximately two to five minutes, you shall offer them this tea.”

“I shall offer them tea?” Aziraphale repeated. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch, good sir, no catch. Just to see that they do indeed drink it. And that you indeed drink it. And that you shall add a couple of drops of this concoction of my own devising”

“What is it?”

“Just an ordinary poison. Nothing to write home about.”

“Poison? You must be out of your mind! I can’t do that!” Aziraphale was horrified.

“Can’t you? That’s a far cry from anything, isn’t it?”

“They’re innocent.” Aziraphale said, faintly, desperately. “They haven’t done anything wrong.”

“And neither have you. But why do you think I care? It’s your choice. If they are innocent they will go to their just reward.” Ulthar smiled widely, Aziraphale could have counted every tooth in his mouth. “And you will go to yours. As I said, Aziraphale, I want your soul, not your life.”

“I can’t.” Aziraphale said brokenly. “I can’t.”

“Then Crowley is mine. So much for love, eh, angel?”

Angel. That’s what Crowley called him. And only Crowley could make that one word sound like both an insult and an endearment. Aziraphale closed his eyes and moved his lips for a second as if in prayer.

When he opened them again they were weary, yet determined. “Give me the bottle,” he said hoarsely.

“Well, well, isn’t this curious.”

“Now!”

Ulthar handed it over. Aziraphale could feel his soul splintering as he poured the a few drops in each cup.

“Crowley,” he whispered to himself. “After this, you really do owe me one.”

***

Crowley swallowed the contents of the bottle and braced himself for agonising pain.

Nothing happened.

“What - what - why am I still alive?”

Terinael laughed. Happy peals that resounded off the walls and into Crowley’s head.

“It was tap water,” he choked out. “You’ve just drunk tap water. Hoo boy! ‘Tell Aziraphale that I love him’ I almost died trying not to laugh.”

“Ha ha,” said Crowley feeling foolish. “I’m glad you’re so happy, do you mind telling me what was the point of making me go through that if it was just tap water.”

Terinael sobered down. “It may have only been tap water. But that isn’t the point, is it? You thought it was Holy water. You didn’t die, but you would have.”

“Right,” said Crowley. “I told you I’d do anything.”

“And you do love him.”

“Yes.”

Terinael nodded. “Does he feel the same way?”

Crowley looked away. “I don’t know. Doesn’t matter though. ’Snot what it’s about it is?”

“Indeed it isn’t.You know, they say that there is no greater love that that for which a man would lay down his life for his friend.”

“Yeah? I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of. But you did keep your side of the bargain so I shall keep mine.” Terinael picked up the sword and handed it to Crowley. “Give this to your angel. He’ll know what to do.”

“And you’ll stay away from him.”

“I swore it, didn’t I? I just hope he’s worth it.”

“Oh, he’s worth it,” Crowley muttered. “He’s just a bit of a bastard sometimes. But he’s my bastard. So that’s alright.”

“Keep up like this and you’ll be well on your way to ascending. Now wouldn’t that be nice?”

Crowley looked at him is mock horror. “A fate surely worse than death. Just because I love the idiot doesn’t mean I’m going to be all puppies and sunshine.”

“Are you so sure about that? Well run along. I believe you have a hellhound to deal with. I hope to see you again in better circumstances.

“Fuck you,” sneered Crowley, heading for the door.

“Quite. And Crowley? You might want to tell Aziraphale some of this. Life’s too short. Even if you do have Eternity.”

Part VI