Happy Holidays, cho_malfoy!

[waxbean.livejournal.com]

Title: By Virtue Fall

Rating: PG-13

For: cho_malfoy 

From: seularen 

Prompt: This is a combination of most of the things you asked for: a religious plot-driven dark!fic with A/C undertones.

Summary: Some confessions are all too familiar.

~~

“Now,” he says as he drops a blood red folder onto the table, “How easy was it to watch Renee?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, don’t you?”

“No. We were together, but I never stalked her. We loved each other.”

“You sat outside her house her every day for weeks!” His voice changes pitch for the first time. Evidently her evasions are getting to him. Good. Let him suffer. “After she kicked you out, you still couldn't let her be. You had to make sure she was taken care of.”

“That's ridiculous. I knew her nurse; she was in good hands.”

“No, you couldn't trust anyone to take care of your love except yourself. You'd seen what they did to others like Renee. Your dedication was admirable, the sort of gesture poets used to write about. You wanted to know how much time was left.” The man—was he a man truly, she wonders—leans down to breathe into Aeron’s ear. “I understand, trust me. I understand the need to know.”

“No, it’s not like that—”

“It’s alright! You don’t need to lie, to hide from me; it’s just lying to yourself, you know.”

“I'd never…” She falters at his hiss. What kind of man hisses?

“No, no, darling, just stop; your tongue is tired of lying.”

~~

“Why did you kill Aeron?”

“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His sigh tears through her, a shrapnel explosion of guilt and confusion.

“There’s no use lying, my dear. It would only be…”

“I know,” she says, looking up into his blue eyes.

“Then why not—”

“Because then she would really be gone, and I couldn’t live with that.”

“But, my dear,” he starts, hesitant, hands twisting cloth, “you’re already…”

~~

“Renee was so oblivious, wasn’t she? Didn’t see you, couldn’t even sense that anyone was watching her. Kind of pathetic, really. I’m surprised at you… wouldn’t you want to love someone more… more aware? More like you? Didn’t you want to love someone who could understand your paranoia?”

“I’m not paranoid—”

“Oh, of course you aren’t darling. Four locks on the doors, leaving the house hours early so you could make sure no one followed you, constantly moving from city to city… no, not paranoia. What do you call it?”

“Being prepared.” A truly terrifying grin splits his features, yet even staring up into his face she can’t see his eyes. What kind of man had eyes always covered by shadow?

“Prepared? Really, that’s the best you can come up with?” He gives up. He needs to find her weak points, for he fears he can no longer be in this room without losing what’s left of his sanity. If one could call it sanity. “Fine. What about the day you found out that Renee had—”

“Shut up!,” Aeron yells as he watches her from across the room. He loathes this. “I didn't care. I didn't... no, it didn't matter to me. I loved her.”

“Didn’t matter? Then what do you call this? The staff of Aesculapius behind her knees are a nice touch.” Aeron tries to push the picture away but he just replaces it with another. And another—the blood under the body—and another—her lover’s pale, lifeless face—and suddenly Aeron is on her feet, grabbing for the folder.

“Where are…” the pictures scatter to the floor, a sudden collage of lust and rotting flesh. She falls to her knees, desperately searching through each. “Who touched her body? Who moved her?”

“No one touched her, Aeron.”

“Don’t lie to me, you bastard! You’re not nearly as clever as you'd like to believe.” But he ignores the bait. Suddenly, the odds are in his favor.

“What’s wrong with the pictures?”

“Her eyes!” she moans to herself as her greedy fingers collect their handiwork. “Her beautiful eyes…”

“You hid them from the world, didn’t you? They were your treasures, the bounty of a journey long in the making. What did you use? Cloth? Coins?” he feels her flinch. “Ah, yes, coins; ever the traditionalist. Renee's father collected coins, did he not?”

“Irish currency. I took two Hiberno-Norse coins; they were his favorites.”He remembers the feel of the illegible coins in his hand, the old pennies buying him entrance to the best bars in Glasgow. “She deserved the best,” Aeron murmurs, a fond look in her eyes. “She wanted so badly to have a proper funeral. Her parents wouldn't even look at her after...”

“After...?” he prompts, but he's missed his mark. She's all ice and ash again; he'll have to try another route.

~~

What did I ever do to you that you should treat me this way?

Is it really such a crime for an angel to speak his mind?

In time I'll try to shed some light

At times, it was all too easy to pretend none of it had ever happened. Up here, distractions abounded, enough to fill five years with his holy assignments; he could almost convince himself he was lost in the work. And yet...

And yet, not even the perfection surrounding him soothed the loneliness aching in his bones. Well, his imagined bones. His incorporeal being. Even lacking a body, he marveled in the hurt; it helped him feel real.

Up here, he lacked marrow and blood. Instead, starlight and wonderment filled his lungs. Breathing had never been necessary, but it reminded him. The way London air in the winter tasted of frost and citrus. How filling one's lungs with morning mist felt like every first breathe of every body he'd ever had. Breathing reminded him how human he'd felt, just for a few stolen moments, down on Earth with—

“It's time for your next soul,” one of the newer angels materialized at his side. The line never ended, and he never grew tired. Weariness, after all, had no definition in heaven.

“What's this one's story?” he asked.

“Renee—”

“It was more of a rhetorical question,” he cut off his companion, but instantly turned. “I'm sorry, my dear, I'm just a bit... rushed today.”

“No need to apologize,” the young one said with a smile. “I understand.”

'No, you don't,' he wants to yell, but that would be inappropriate. Besides, he's never been one to keep a woman waiting.

~~

“So you’re saying you never hurt Aeron?”

“I would never. How could I? I’ve never been violent, not ever. You can see that, can’t you?”

“Yes, I can,” his voiced soothes her. “You, my dear, are obviously a pure heart. Which is why it’s so disappointing you’re lying to me now.”

~~

He was made to lie. He was made to detect the truth.

He loved drawing the confessions out of them. He loved seeing the burden lifted from their shoulders as they finally admitted.

He missed him. He missed him too.

~~

What did I ever do so wrong that you should cast me from grace?

Though I love to rule in Hell here, how I miss the taste of Heaven

Its soft and cool embrace

The last time he saw the angel was winter, 2025. The snow, falling slowly, outlined blonde hair perfectly as he’d broken the news.

“Angel, I… I’m afraid I won’t be seeing you again.”

“What? Whyever not?”

“I’ve been reassigned.” A pause; the words hurt to say. “To confessions.” The gasp from next to him hurt, but not as much as the arms enveloping him in a sudden embrace.

“No, angel, I don’t do goodbyes.”

“I know, dear, I just… I can’t exactly imagine London without you.”

“I can imagine Hell without you,” he said, his voice flat. It was all too easy to imagine, after all; cold mornings, bad company, and the endless echo of broken screams. No tea, no ducks in the park, no dusty bookstore retreat.

“I suppose,” the angel said, “now would be a good time to tell you… erm… I’ve been transferred also. To, well… to confessions.”

“Ah,” was all he could think to say.

“Yes.”

They sat in silence for a long while, watching the lonely crows pick at the frozen ground.

“There is some poetic irony in this, you know,” he finally said. “I…” but the flippancy wouldn't come, somehow. “Oh, sod it,” he muttered, then took gloved hands in his own. “Aziraphale, I… I’ll miss you, my friend.”

“I shall miss you as well, Crowley. You were… are a good man.”

When he looked back eons later, all he could remember after those words was that it was too cold to cry.

~~

“I couldn't let her push me away. Everything in my life revolved around her. I left my dreams behind for Renee, to care for her. I wouldn't sleep for worrying.”

“You put her at the center of your universe.”

“Of course—”

“And she became your everything—”

“Yes—”

“Your idol—”

“I—”

“Your goddess.”

“Stop, I—”

“And how did she repay you? All your devotion, the love of a slave tending to her every cough, the slightest fever, and what was your reward? It was inconceivable that she could betray you, not when you created an entire world around her. No, it was intolerable. How could she abandon you in the cold desert of your loneliness? You... you spent years taking care of her, watching her decay. You had to show her how futile it was to live without you. Surely she'd feel as lost as you, as empty and cold.”

“No, no, she never did that, she loved me and I worshiped her...” Aeron felt tears on her face, wondered how they'd come to be there. “I didn't care how sick she was, I would have died by her side.”

“Stop your lying,” his fist slams on the table and she jumps; for the first time, she wonders if the rules have changed without her noticing. “It will do you no good here!”

“You think I don’t know that?!” her voice cracks and he tilts his head, leaning in to savor her fear. “You think I don’t know where I am?”

“Oh, yes, you think you know? Where are you, then? Tell me. Please.” His face is so close to hers and there's no longer any room to run, he's stolen it all from her; she has to tell him the truth or she'll never be able to breathe again. She needs to rid herself of this vile brew churning in her stomach. Everything feels impossible, everything except confessing, and he's saying, “I live to be enlightened,” so she draws her breath like armor and looks up into his eyes—

~~

“Why is it so hard to admit this truth, Renee?”

“I… I can’t. I’m too…”

“Guilty?” Her head whips up, and he imagines it hurt. She wants to confess, he can tell, but he can’t bear to rip it out of her. He is no surgeon, and he knows not the intricacies of an extraction, especially when it comes to matters of the heart. Still, it is his duty.

“Yes,” Renee whispers, and, for the first time, looks him in the eyes—

~~

His eyes are yellow.

~~

Her eyes fill with tears as she connects with his blue eyes, the color of the paradise waiting for her if she just admits her crime. “How is it possible to kill someone and still end up in heaven?”

“Your heart is pure, my dear,” Aziraphale says, taking her hand in his. “Every last human sins, and, were our Lord to truly judge us, we would all be damned. But it is written: if we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. So, Renee, do you confess?” Her cheeks are stained with saline but she musters a scrap of courage to keep his gaze.

“I do. I do, I killed her. I knew the diagnosis for years, but I just couldn't bring myself to tell her. She worshiped me and I didn't want to lower myself in her eyes. She wouldn't have realized it until after I died, so I thought maybe, if I could fill her life with love, it would make up for... I’m so sorry, I never meant to, she was so kind and I was so afraid, I never wanted to kill her, I loved her—” The flash in the angel’s eyes silenced her instantly. She snatches her hand away, suddenly terrified. “What… what did I say wrong?” But whatever it was, has already disappeared.

“Nothing, nothing at all. You just… reminded me of someone right now.” He smiles, and it makes her soul ache. She wonders who he lost, to make him look like a shattered stained glass window.

“Who did you love, Angel?”

“I love everyone, my dear,” he says. “It is in my nature.” Before she absorbs this, before she can let the pity seep into her eyes, he stands. “Come, Renee.” His eyes now sparkle with laughter and light. “There is someone who wishes to speak with you...”

~~

“She killed me too, you know.”

“I know.”

“So… is she down here?”

“No.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because your intentions were evil and hers were not. Or at least, not entirely. She wanted to be saved, but you only cared for the Earthly pleasures.” He tries to smile, but manages only a short grimace. “You may have shared a bed, but you never shared her love.” She stares; his voiced has changed, now. It’s laced with regret. “Anger is cruel and fury overwhelming, but who can stand before jealousy?”

“What?” she asks, but he's already moved on.

“Renee told you, didn’t she, to let go of your hate. And you, in your arrogance, thought she was the ignorant one.” He was staring at the wall as if it wasn’t there, as if somehow, if he concentrated hard enough, he’d be able to call it to him.

“But she couldn’t have confessed before she died.”

“Yes, you’re right of course.” His glare draws more tears. “You saw to that.”

“So if she never confessed, she couldn’t have been forgiven.” The knowledge gave her a frozen comfort, and Aeron thinks she might survive this as long as she holds on to her bitterness.

“You really think they’re so literal-minded up there?” He points to the ceiling but keeps his hooded eyes on her. “There is not a righteous man on earth who does what is right and never sins. They give their own a fair chance. We, on the other hand…”

…and the walls begin to close in on her…

~~

I’m just like you

Made by Him

Despised by they

I’m almost me

I’m nearly human

Pity me, I’m almost a human being

~~

A/N: The title is from the quote: “Some rise by sin, some by virtue fall” from Shakespeare's Measure By Measure, Act II Scene I. The Bible quote Aziraphale uses is I John 1:9. The Bible quotes Crowley uses are Proverbs 27:4 and Ecclesiastes 7:20. The song lyrics are from “Almost Human” by Voltaire. The name Renee means “born again.” The name Aeron is the name of the ancient Celtic goddess of battle and slaughter. I understand that sending a lesbian woman who gave her lover AIDS to heaven is a bit radical. If you were offended, I apologize. Please send me a PM and we can discuss it further.

Comments

[waxbean.livejournal.com]

this really hit me towards the end -- I think the ambiguity of the characters worked to great effect for your story. very powerful and evocative.

[daluci.livejournal.com]

Oh, wow. What an experience. What a beautiful experience.

[lillypuff.livejournal.com]

Wow. I'm rather speechless, after reading this. But this was good. Very good.

[ladymouse2.livejournal.com]

I confess I had some initial difficulty following the rapid transitions but finally began to get the rhythm--sometimes I'm awfully slow.

I didn't quite track the juxtaposition of the tangled relationship between the two women and the forever sundered angel and demon; Aeron was shown to have not loved in the way her partner had but angel and demon did love and miss each other.

Who was it that Aziraphale was escorting Renee to meet since Aeron was to remain in Hell?

That said however, I WAS moved, mostly by the picture of the eons going by with angel and demon forever separated, forever deprived of their little island of borrowed humanity.

I will go away in search of kleenex now...

[gorgeousnerd]

Oh, wow. I have to say, this is the first time in a while I've had to reread a fic a couple of times in order to really get it, but I think that really speaks to how subtle and well-constructed the writing is here.

I was a little afraid that my prompt was going to be too hard to work with, but you've done beautifully here, o secret gift-giver! Thank you so much for this; I look forward to thanking you personally when I find out your identity.

[tsuru-san.livejournal.com]

I'll admit that I didn't quite follow at first, but once I got into it, it was sooo good! It was very realistic, and Crowley and Aziraphale were nicely in character.

He missed him. He missed him too.
That whole little section was especially poignant. *sniffle*