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Lord Beelzebub, Hastur and Dagon walked down the dark, damp and flickering, crackling lighted hallway, with a small creature known as one of Hell's Ushers leading them. The ceiling was still leaking with gunk, and sewage water, and smelt of fire and brimstone, mixed with sulphur.
Dagon looked utterly delighted, as she walked down the hallway. Next to her was Hastur, who scowled. In front of them was Beelzebub, who looked bored.
The Usher hummed, and groaned, it was small and pudgy, and was wearing a black torn sash and a staff, that held the symbol of a goat, the image of a goat well used in Hell, and well... everyone used it for the symbol of satanic cults. (No one ever knew why, maybe Satan liked goats.)
Beelzebub sat on their large, black throne that had multiple spikes coming from the back support, and they slouching in it with a delighted sigh, their back practically on the seat itself rather than the back rest, as the seat came too far out. Hastur and Dagon sat on seats, either side of them.
They were in a dark and dingy room, thick with dirt, with a bacteria infested bathtub, and one large, grimy window in the wall, hand prints and grease dragged down it. Behind the window was a sea of demons, sat on the floor, and maggot eaten benches, eagerly watching and groaning, waiting for what was to come.
"The trial of the demon Azira, beginning with evidence and ending with utter obliviation, is in session." Hell's Usher announced, and slammed his staff down twice. "All rise."
All the demons, Dagon and Hastur included, stood up from their seats as asked, all seeming eager.
Beelzebub stayed in their seat, flies buzzing around their head, watching with a glare-full glare, and buzzed out with a bored drawl, voice echoing, "bring in the Traitor!"
Two dark hooded and cloaked demons led a frowning, and annoyed strolling Azirafell down the same flickering hall, his wedges slamming against the floor. He was in his usual dark clothing, only this time his serpent necklace was blatantly on show, unlike all the other times he hid it, and his hands were bound with red rope in front of him, tight and uncomfortable.
He strolled in front of the three, the guards on either side. He smiled coyly suddenly, "salutations, my darlings!" He looked around, checking the place over, "finally! A sex dungeon! It took too long to convince you! I do love what you've done with it!" He smirked, eyes half-lidded with lust behind his glasses, and relished the choking of spit from Hastur.
"Not for you, it won't be." Hastur choked out, tense and uncomfortable, as he shuffled.
"Could do with a pillow or two." Scowled Azirafell, as if personally offended there was no pillows in a sex dungeon, "maybe a coffee table." He shrugged, "a few books." He scrunched up his nose.
"Silenzzzze!" Buzzed Beelzebub, making Azirafell looked to them, a lewd smirk on his lips. "The prizzzzoner shall approach."
"Gladly, my darling." Azirafell agreed, stepping forward with a smile. "So, what is all this? Popping up and kidnapping me?"
"The trial of a Traitor." Answered Beelzebub with a sarcastic look on their face, and sounded bored, not at all amused. To be fair, they always sounded bored, and done with everything.
With a frown, Azirafell asked, "Lord Beelzebub, you are...?" He trailed off, as if unsure.
"I'm the judge." They spat out, rolling their eyes, and Azirafell gave a curt nod of realisation.
"And I'm the prosecutor." Hastur grumbled, making the white haired demon look over. The Duke was smug, smirking and proud, as if he had something evil planned.
Chewing nothing, his lower jaw at work, and a confused look in his eyes, Azirafell looked over at the smirking Dagon, and offered, "and, darling Dagon is defendin' me?" He looked to Beelzebub. That didn't seem right, but... that was the only logical thing.
They just looked annoyed and done, as if Azirafell was treating Hell like Heaven.
"Oh, I'm afraid not." Dagon answered, not sounding too sad, showing off her rotten sharp teeth. "No, I'm just here in case there's anything you've done that they forgot." She smiled evilly, correcting the demon.
Azirafell nodded, with a look of stuttering realisation.
"But we built this place for you specially." Beelzebub informed, sitting up and leaning on the edge of the throne. That what it was really a throne. "It shall be your place of trial. And it shall be your place of destruction."
"That is rather kinky. You shouldn't have gone to all the trouble, darling." Smiled Azirafell, looking between all three of them with ease. He realised this trial was more of a theatrics than an actual trial. With a coy smirk, and suggestive lower lip bite, he asked, "what seems to be the problem?"
REWIND IF YOU WILL...
The loud rev of an engine, and 'Bohemian Rhapsody' by Queen interrupted him, and the group turned. There, swerving around the corner, was a 1929 Mercedes-Benz SSK, on fire, flaming, it had no black paint job anymore, no tyres even, and looked like it had smoked out windows, though that was the effect of having normal windows with a smoke filled interior. It made pingping noises, made from metal cooling.
Crowley stared in horror, he knew that car and nothing could survive... how was the car on fire? Who would... the M25! 'Azirafell...' He thought, panic squeezing her chest and heart, and held back desperate tears, 'don't let him be dead!' He should have said something, done anything! He shouldn't have let—
'I'm sure he's alright, dear...' Assured Madame Tracy, her voice soft in their head.
"So you think you can stop me and spit in my eye..."
The door opened suddenly, and Crowley gasped, a smile growing on her face. Out stumbled a demon, face covered in soot, in all black and white hair that was more grey now from soot, a book under his arm, "you wouldn't get that type of performance from a modern automobile!" He slammed the door shut, and strolled forward with a sway, his voice sore and scratchy, as smoke came from his mouth, the music stopping. Someone, he felt absolutely terrible, the whole 'keeping the car together' thing really took it out of him.
Madame Tracy walked forward, her eyes wide in amazement, and said, in Crowley's voice, full of fondness and soft, "Azirafell..."
"Salutations Crowley!" Greeted the demon, looking over the human he possessed, "I see you've discovered a gorgeous body to inhabit!" His goat like smirk fell into a soft, gentle smile of relief. So, the world hasn't ended after all, "it's a nice dress. It very much suits you." He flirted, though this wasn't Crowley, and so he kept all that stuff until he had his own corporation. It took everything in him to not rush over and hug her, he's a demon not an arsehole, he doesn't want to make her uncomfortable.
Shadwell scowled at Azirafell, and considered using the weapon on him.
Crowley blushed and smiled, "ngk!" He frowned, "thissss guy won't let ussss in." He was worried all over again, now that he was closer, he saw Azirafell's eyes were that of a goats, less human than ever, which means his husband was straining himself.
Strolling over, Azirafell leaned down to Madame Tracy and grinned, "leave it to me, dear." He was worried his about his husband, about how he's hissing words, unlike how he keeps it hidden. He strolled over to Deisenburger, who kept his stance. "Darling," he relished in the no-homo panic in his face, they were always the easiest, "my friends and I have come a long way, and—"
The gate beeped, and opened by itself, and the group looked confused, Azirafell falling silent, swaying where he stood.
"Which one of you did that?" Questioned Deisenburger in distress.
Suddenly, four kids - three boys and one girl - and a small mongrel, cycled past on bikes, and into the base, ringing bells. It was kind of impressive really.
"Okay, those kids are in big trouble." Warned Sgt Deisenburger, moving backwards to the base, gun still pointed. "And so are you people." He pointed his finger at them, "don't move!" He rushed off, and the small group stared at him, and the children on bikes.
Azirafell relaxed, his shoulders easing up, tired from holding his car together, his head was pulsing in pain, and the acid in his stomach turned and twisted, feeling sick. He let out a shaky breath, trying to sort his eyes out.
A loud explosion of fire, heat and metal debris came from behind them. Shadwell recoiled in shock, Madame Tracy and Crowley both flinched and Azirafell barely reacted, just turned with a raised eyebrow. Pieces of metal scattered and hit the floor, a long piece of metal with what looked like a handle on each side hit the ground with a loud ringing noise.
"Any way the wind blows..."
Shadwell stared in shock, and Crowley in Madame Tracy's body, looked to Azirafell first. Azirafell frowned, eyes sad as he strolled forward and between the two, looking at the dark, thick, black smoke rolling off of his now destroyed car, he fell to his knees rather dramatically.
His blue eyes, which was now reducing in size, slowly but surely, were lit up with blue, "ninety years and not a scratch, and now look at you, darling"
Madame Tracy raced over, and said in Crowley's voice, "Azirafell! He'ssss got a gun!" She gestured to Deisenburger, but Azirafell kept staring at his car sadly. "He'ssss pointin' it. Do ssssomethin'!" He yelled, in annoyance and fear, waving her hands about.
"I am having a moment here, dear!" Azirafell reasoned, nodding his head with each syllable, looking to Crowley, or well Madame Tracy. His voice was thick with emotion, and his eyes rimmed with red bloody tears, as his ash covered face was contorted to one of pain.
"Azirafell!" She threw her hands down, "I'm the nicccce one." Crowley paused, remembering The Garden, "mosssst the time! I'm not gonna do the dirty work!"
But, Azirafell just stared, with blank eyes focused on his destroyed car, shoulders sagging with a deep, mournful look on his face, lips pulled into a dull, and heavy frown.
Shadwell was still pointing his shaking finger to Deisenburger, "I'm going to count to three, then I'm going to use my finger!"
"Ma'am, I'm giving you all five seconds to vacate this area!" Yelled Deisenburger, his gun still raised as he moved forward.
Shadwell kept pointing his weak weapon, and Azirafell kept moping over his car.
Crowley glared, "you try 'n' do a good thing! Where doessss it get ya?!" She moved forward, her heels clicking and snapped her fingers. With the sound of an old-fashioned lightbulb popping, Deisenburger disappeared.
Shadwell's eyes widened, and stared at his finger in amazement, and looked to Madame Tracy, still not used to her split personality, "see? Ye stick by me, ye'll be all right."
Crowley tutted, rolling her eyes.
"Rest in peace." Azirafell said, pressing a gentle kiss to the piece of metal, looking at the car. "You were a good car." He got up, and kept holding it, strolling over to the Madame Tracy, Shadwell and Crowley. "Very nice work on the soldier, dear. I didn't think you had it in you."
"Well..." Shadwell started, but Crowley cut him off.
"Ssssame 'ere. I hope I haven't ssssent 'im ssssomewhere bad." Crowley fretted, pulling his, her, face down and in a panic.
Azirafell sighed, "you best get used to it, and fast. You just send them, yes dear?" He looked over Crowley, and said, "are you going to introduce us?" He asked, gesturing to the body Crowley inhabited.
Crowley nodded, "yeah! Yeah, 'coursssse! Mssss. Marjorie, thissss issss Azirafell, Azirafell thissss issss Madame Traccccy, or Mssss. Marjorie." He introduced, gesturing between himself and Azirafell.
"Charmed, I'm sure." Madame Tracy said, in her normal voice, warily looking the demon over.
Azirafell held out his hand, and she took it, "charmed, I am." He smiled, all friendly, politely kissing her knuckles gently. She blushed, but it could have just as easily been Crowley blushing.
Shadwell's glare hardened in jealousy, hating the white haired demon more and more.
Suddenly, he saw a jeep heading towards them purposefully, and was crowded with people who were about to shout questions and fire guns and not worry about which order they did this in. "Oh," he looked between them and his destroyed car, "okay. I need to move on from my car." He suddenly smiled, brightening up slightly, "this is more my area of competence." He grinned, looking to his husband. "I shall deal with them." He moved forward.
"Never fear, laddie." Shadwell assured, "I've got a finger." He waved his finger with a confident chuckle.
Crowley looked to Shadwell, and pointed to him, "y'gonna need t' wield your weapon, SSSShadwell." He said, pointing to the gun, and walked forward, behind Azirafell, and Shadwell followed behind her.
"We are here to lick some serious butt." Smirked Azirafell with a powerful stroll.
Crowley sighed, "'kick', Azirafell. It'ssss 'kick butt'!" He corrected with a scrunched up sneer, it was like this whole 'papping' and 'popping' thing the demon couldn't get a hang of.
Azirafell looked behind him with a scoff, "I am not good with idioms, my dear. Just let me mispronounce them, Crowley! For Heaven's sake!" Suddenly, he shivered and gagged, jerking forward like he was about to throw up, his eyes wide in shock as if he had eaten something bad. "Oh! I can not believe I just uttered that."
16 MINUTES TO THE END OF THE WORLD
In a handful of moments, the missiles will fly. The forces of Heaven and Hell will attack. And everything depends on one small boy.
Silence holds the bubble of the world in its grip.
A military jeep holding Azirafell, Shadwell, and Madame Tracy possessed by Crowley swerved around the corner. There they spotted four children, and four beings, and one dog. A boy who was skinny with glasses, a boy covered in dirt, a girl with a red raincoat and black curled hair, and a boy with curly hair. The adults were the four horsemen, there was no doubt about that; War, Famine, Pollution and Death.
Crowley, as Madame Tracy, pulled the car up as she was driving this time. He didn't trust Azirafell to drive, and speed, and accidentally throw the group out of the vehicle.
YOU COULD FINISH THIS FOR THEM WITH ONE THOUGHT. Death said, looking at the Adam Young, who stared back, not shying away from his harsh, dead and blank gaze. YOU CAN MAKE THE WORLD ANEW.
"That's him!" Azirafell yelled, pointing to Adam with his index finger, walking forward, followed by Madame Tracy possessed by Crowley, and Shadwell. "The curly one. You must shoot him, and save the world!"
YOU ARE PART OF US, NOT THEM. Death called, angrily and assuring. NO ONE WILL DISOBEY YOU.
"What?" Shadwell asked, confused and slightly fearful, holding his gun. "He's just a wee bairn. You cannae—"
The demon and angel looked to him.
"Oh, for Heaven'ssss ssssake!" Snapped Crowley, rushing over and snatching the gun.
"Oh, no." Shadwell choked, loosing grip of the gun.
The dirty boy looked shock.
"Give me that!" Crowley pointed the gun, and Azirafell bent down to the body's height, watching. Crowley appreciated the form of comfort, feeling Azirafell's hand on her lower back, his thumb rubbing circles. Crowley looked to him, and Azirafell looked back. It was like they were back at The Globe Theatre in London, back in 1596.
Azirafell frowned, "maybe I should...?"
"And, let Hell have you?" Hissed Crowley, her grip tightening and her eyes shone in worry.
IGNORE THIS NONSENSE. A WORD FROM YOU AND I WILL END THEIR LIVES. Death assured, voice calm and steady, ready to follow orders.
Crowley went to pull the trigger, but Madame Tracy wrestled and pulled the gun away, "you can't just shoot children!" She cried out.
The body paused, and looked to Azirafell, "we sssshould wait." Crowley said, nervous. Crowley would do the job if must be, all to keep Azirafell from Hell's grubby hands, but he'd rather not.
Azirafell's eyes widened, having to do a double take to his angel, "what, until he grows up?!" Shrieked the demon in a mad panic, and pointed to Adam, who wasn't bothered by the whole ordeal. "Shoot him, Crowley!" He cried out in fear.
The ginger wigged head nodded, and she hoisted the gun, preparing to shoot, and Shadwell turned away, unable watch the death of a child. She shot, pulling the trigger, but pulled up as the firework like bullet shot up into the sky. The gun was now aimed up, and the two men backed away. Azirafell stared in despair at the sight, seeing they lost their only weapon and gritted his teeth.
"I'm sorry." Panted Madame Tracy revealing she took control, as she shook her head. "I couldn't let you do it!" She lowered the gun, panting. She did sound regretful, but she knew it was the right thing to do.
"It'ssss alright, Marjorie..." Crowley panted back, he too not wanting to do it.
"Excuse me," called Adam, "why are you two people?" He asked in confusion, looking at the woman inhabited by an angel.
"Ngk, long sssstory." Crowley said, shifting the gun. "I wassss in m'plant sssshop—"
"It's not right." Adam said, cutting him off, eyes serious and sure. "You should go back to being two separate people again."
Suddenly, with a squeal and a hiss, then one stretch of white light, Crowley was now standing next to Madame Tracy, the two light on their feet. Crowley patted himself over with a smile, smoothing his clothing. Shadwell stared in amazement at the sight, still amazed by everything.
"Oh, made me go all tingly." Smiled Madame Tracy, and then looked to Crowley in disappointment. "Oh," she huffed as if let down, "I thought you would be younger, and that it was the mirrors that made you look older."
Shadwell glared in jealousy at the angel, as well as the demon. Madame Tracy moved to Shadwell, giving him the gun back, and the two hastily stared at the sight of the kids, adults, and angel and demon, and Shadwell thought about using the gun on the angel, and the demon instead. Less competition that way.
Crowley frowned and looked down at himself, rather self consciously at her comment, his clothing was a lot cleaner that's for sure. He raised a hand, and fiddled with his goat necklace, that's back, and he ran a hand through his quiff, ginger hair. Still the same old, well... old looking corporation.
"Angel..." Azirafell said, softly, his voice near choked up. He sounded so disgustingly sappy, and so hideously in love, his voice conveyed his adoration and genuine relief. This was not the time to be so open and happily in love, it is usually saved for the end of the 'final battle', but who cares? He's had the worst day ever in his entire six thousand years...
Crowley perked up, and looked over slowly, his eyes sickeningly soft, with a delightfully, grossly, deeply in love gleam in his eyes, and his voice gentle with nauseating adoration, "darling?"
Azirafell rushed over in a sagging relief, and desire, as if a puppet cut of strings, the dark sin of cloud disappearing. He puled Crowley into a harsh, yet loved and adoration filled kiss, and Crowley barely had time to eagerly wrap his thin arms around the demon's soot cover neck, and kiss back, before rough, chapped lips were eagerly kissing his face, and the angel laughed, and face twitching in excitement, his long fingers running through Azirafell's ash covered, soft hair. That's when Shadwell realised they was no reason to be jealous, and Madame Tracy realised this was 'darling', and the red haired man wouldn't have gone for her anyway.
The kids just looked uncomfortable at the massive display of pubic affection, and found themselves comparing the two to their parents who adored each other, all soft and mushy in love.
"Isn't this kept f'r the last fight?" Asked Crowley in a love filled daze, his eyes warm, and staring deeply into Azirafell's beautiful blue ones. He was no longer hissing, having his strength back, as he twirled a curl with his thin index finger.
"I believed you to be dead, and I was unsure of when I was able to kiss you again. If ever." Azirafell reasoned, "I don't care if this is the last thing we are meant to do."
Crowley dragged his hand from the demons neck, and cupped his cheek, rubbing the warm pad of his thumb under Azirafell's eyes, "why were y'r eyes so... goat-like, before?"
"I drove through the fucking M25, and it was up in flames! Okay?" Azirafell reasoned, his cheek eagerly leaning into the palm of the angels hand, kissing his palm gently.
It was time to decide who your friends were. And Adam had.
So, the Antichrist, three human children and a former Hell Hound, faced Death and three monsters who came from the minds of humanity.
Dog barked readily.
War stood in the middle of the circle of people (and the horsemen, and angel and demon, and a dog), as she waved and swung the Flaming Sword around rather skilfully. Azirafell and Crowley watched her, more specifically the sword, squinting in confusion, eyebrows pulled together, and had yet to pull away from each other.
"The thing is, they're not actually real." Adam said, not phased by the horseman, "they're just like nightmares, really."
War held out her sword, and pointed it to them, "little boys with your toys." She smirked, eyes evil.
"I'm not a boy." Snapped Pepper, angrily.
"I am War." She introduced, lowering the sword, looking to each child. "You were made to serve me, to live in me and die in me." She carefully gestured to herself.
"My mum says that war is just masculine imperialism executed on a global stage." Pepper informed, a sneer on her face.
Chuckling, War looked to Pepper with a smikr, "a little girl. Run home and play with your dollies, little girl." She waved the sword in the girls face.
Slowly, and angrily, Pepper walked forward and snapped out, "I do not endorse everyday sexism."
War raised the sword in anger with an angry call, and Pepper slammed her heel into War's foot. War dropped the sword, and yelped out, "ow! Oh!"
Shadwell and Madame Tracy shared a look of shock. Crowley and Azirafell shared a look of thought to the sword, and the looked back to them, impressed with the young girl.
Pepper picked up the sword, and aimed it at War, who paused and laughed, "we're Adam's real friends. Not you lot." Pepper sneered at them, throwing them the dirties look one could muster, "you're a joke."
Death and Pollution shared a look, with Pollution looking offended.
"Just say what you believe, Pepper." Adam encouraged, voice determined.
Pepper moved forward, sword raised and War took hold of the edge of the blade, not at all in pain. "I believe in peace, bitch." Swore the girl, shocking Shadwell and Madame Tracy. She shoved the sword into War's chest, and watched in satisfaction as War screamed in pain, going up in flames, being sucked into the sword.
"Drop it, Pepper. Quick." Adam yelled, sensing the danger the sword held.
Pepper dropped the sword in shock, and backed away quickly, not feeling the power.
Pollution rushed forward, and he tried to grab it, but Brian rushed forward, and picked the sword up first, pointing it to the white haired male that was more of a melted shape, trying to be a human. "I believe in a clean world!" He stabbed Pollution, who screamed in pain and agony, evaporating into black smoke and his crown fell and clattered to the ground at Death's feet. Brian dropped the sword.
Madame Tracy waved her hand, clearing the smoke and Shadwell looked shocked.
Wensleydale moved forward, just as Famine did, and he picked up the sword, glaring at the black man with sharp teeth. He glared, "and I believe in food and a healthy lunch." Famine rushed forward, and he grabbed the blade. "Actually, it's a very good thing." Snapped Wensleydale, and Famine yelled in anger.
"Didn't that used to be your sword?" Crowley questioned finally, leaning into his husband and turning to him. He was... tense, for some reason, as if talking to someone of importance.
Azirafell pursed his lips, and sheepishly admitted, "I do believe it was." He glanced to the angel, who looked away. (Neither knew if they meant owning the sword in The Garden, or before The Fall, but it felt right for both, so he must have.)
Dog ran forward, barking and he attacked Famine's ankles. Famine, now loosing, screamed in pain and turned to black smoke, and scales clattered the ground, as did the Flaming Sword.
Shadwell's mouth dropped, and Madame Tracy cuddled into his side in horror.
Everyone stared in amazement, and Death stared at everyone. Crowley took hold of Azirafell's hand nervously, and Azirafell squeezed gently.
All over the world, people who had been wrestling with switches found that they had switched. Circuit breakers opened. Computers stopped planning World War Three and went back to idly scanning the stratosphere.
"Death, this all has to stop now." Adam said, looking at the remaining horseman.
IT HAS STOPPED. BUT THEY WILL BE BACK. Assured Death, looking to the small boy, WE ARE NEVER FAR AWAY. I AM CREATIONS SHADOW. YOU CANNOT DESTROY ME, THAT WOULD DESTROY THE WORLD. He bowed his head, GOOD DAY, GENTLEMEN.
Madame Tracy looked shocked, and scoffed out, "cheek."
"Cheek." Pepper added.
Death opened wings of night. Wings that were shapes cut through the matter of creation into the darkness beneath, and in which, distant lights glimmered. Lights that may have been stars, or may have been something entirely else.
Everyone stared in shock at the sight of big black wings, appearing, swooping in black smoke and light, and Death disappearing out of sight.
"Ya see, Azirafell?" Question Crowley, looking down to his demonic husband. "It's like I've said—"
"Oh, it isn't over." Assured Azirafell, eyes wide as he shook his head. "Nothing is over. What causes war is two sides that cannot stand the sight of each other, and the pressure builds up, and up. Both Heaven and Hell still want their war." He moved forward, and said, "uh, young man." Adam looked over, to see Azirafell squinting in confusion, "Antichrist, what was your name again?"
"Adam Young." Smiled the young boy.
His goat eyes moved across the kids, as if looking for danger, "well your friends banded together and saved the world." He nodded, wrinkling his nose, "congratulations. A valiant effort. Do have a gold star, and half a holiday. It won't make any difference."
"You!" Shouted a female in shock, eyes wide. Just a few meters away from the group, was Professional Descendant and Practical Occultist Anathema Device and Witchfinder Private Newton Pulsifer, storming over to them. Crowley and Azirafell turned their heads to them in unison, and Anathema pointed to them, "you're the man in the car. You stole my book!"
"Oh, book girl!" Azirafell called and looked to the book, "catch." He threw the book to the woman, and she caught it with a grunt.
A piece of paper slipped out, and fluttered to the ground in the wind, and Crowley reached out catching it. He held the charred paper, and glanced over it only catching one sentence, choofe your faces wisely. He folded the paper, and pocketed it to read it over properly later.
"What is going on out here?" Anathema demanded, glaring, as her hair whipped in the wind.
"It's a long story, and there is no time." Azirafell said, shaking his head. Crowley looked to him with a frown.
"Well, try me." Anathema huffed, a wary look on her face.
"Ngk..." Choked Crowley, "okay." He moved over, and stood next to Azirafell, who watched him, eyebrow raised. "So, uh... in The Beginning, in The Garden, there was— Well, I was a—"
"Wily old serpent doing my job..." Offered Azirafell, absentmindedly wrapping an arm around the angels waist lovingly. He did very much enjoy talking about the time they met, after The Fall, as they didn't remember anything from before. That, and they couldn't really tell the full story until now, as nobody knew who they were.
They were all confused, and frowned, listening.
"Yeah! 'N' I was technically 'n apple tree duty, it's how we met, he with the stolen Flam..."
Azirafell sighed, this wasn't the time for a 'how I met your mother' situation, and he leaned over, shushing him, and pinched his index finger and thumb together, turning his fingers like turning down the volume on a radio. Crowley looked to him, a frown on his face, but was pleasantly surprised by his husband pulling him closer, and planting a gentle and loving kiss to his lips, and he kissed back softly, eyes wide. Azirafell pulled back and said, kindly, "be quiet, yes?"
"Right." Flushed Crowley, he'll tell them another time, when they had time.
Anathema blinked, she really didn't need to worry those few nights ago when she met them, not at all. She looked to the children, and greeted them all, "hey, Adam. Hi, Pepper. Hi, you two."
"Hello, Anathema." Greeted Adam, a smile on his face. "You just stopped them blowing up the world, didn't you?" He asked with a cheeky, knowing grin on his face.
"I guess." Grinned Anathema, taking Newt's hand in hers gently, "my boyfriend here did the tricky bit."
Newt smiled, and nodded his head bashfully, but then his eyes widened and looked to her, "boyfriend?"
"Another deluded victim of the patriarchy." Commented Pepper, shaking her head.
The loud sound of thunder and lightening came from behind them, and they yelled out, turning in shock. Azirafell stumbled, and Crowley spun around. Blue lightening hit the ground, leaving behind ash, and there stood a figure in faded purples, and off-whites, a blazer, turtleneck and scarf, Archangel Gabriel. The ground next to him rumbled and crumbled in on itself, as fire flamed slightly, and out came a figure with black hair, in a suit, red tie and balls in the hair, burns on their face, and brushing off dirt from their shoulders with an "ugh," Lord Beelzebub.
The two looked to each other, regarding the other, and walked over, walking between Shadwell and Madame Tracy, and Crowley and Azirafell. They turned to the angel and demon. This was the moment the group realised, the two male present beings in front of them are well and truly an angel and a demon.
The angel fixed his scarf, tensing up slightly, looking between their bosses.
Azirafell swallowed, and bowed, nervously, "Lord Beelzebub. What a dishonour."
Beelzebub looked at him, and sneered, "Azira, the Traitor."
Azirafell then recoiled, pressing himself into the angel's side as much as possible, said angel holding him close, allowing him to shrink back, "that's not a very sporting word." He said, with a nervous sneer.
"All the other wordsz I have for you are worzse." Beelzebub assured, "where'zzzz the boy?" They buzzed, in no mood to entertain the demon, and Gabriel looked to them, annoyed.
"Well, you see Lord Beelzebub—" Started Azirafell, ready to give a long winded explanation as to what had happened to save his skin, as well as Crowley's.
"Silenzzzze!" Buzzed the Lord, seeing what was happening before it began.
"Right! Right!" Azirafell said, hurriedly shutting up. Slowly, the white haired demon reluctantly nodded his head to Adam, who looked at Gabriel and Beelzebub.
Gabriel smiled, his cocky, punch-able wide smile, and pointed to the boy, "that one." He moved forward, happily, "Adam Young." He shoved his hands into his pockets, while Beelzebub followed. The two were now in front of Adam, and Gabriel leaned down, "hi." He sneered slightly, trying to be friendly.
Crowley and Azirafell shared a look of horrified disbelief. Years with Warlock taught them, you don't lean down like that and speak all condescendingly! That's the last thing you do with a child! But, then again, Gabriel was never good with children, and if Adam's disgusted, and rebellious look said anything, it was Gabriel was doing the exact opposite of what he hoped would happen.
"Young man... Armageddon must..." He waved a finger in a circular motion, "restart. Right now. A temporary inconvenience cannot get in the way of the greater good."
Adam just stared at them blankly. He was not impressed.
"As to what it stands in the way of, that has yet to be decided." Beelzebub corrected, a bored look on their face, and Gabriel scowled in anger. "But the battle must be decided now, boy! That is..." They buzzed, and swallowed, stopping themselves, "your dezzzztiny. It is written. Now start the war!" They drawled, eyes stern.
Adam took a deep breath. The human watchers held theirs. Crowley and Azirafell had forgotten how to breathe some time ago.
"You both want to end the world just to see whose gang is best?" Asked Adam, thinking about Greasy Johnson and The Johnsonites, there is no Tadfield if The Them and The Johnsonites aren't 'battling' it out, and being rival gangs.
"Obviously." Laughed Gabriel, a smile as he shook his head. "It's the Great Plan." He reasoned, his tone just making Adam move further and further away from this 'Great Plan'.
Azirafell gave the boy, and their superiors worried looks, he was ready to grab the angel and bolt. Crowley on the other hand frowned, as he looked to his boss, confused. The 'Great Plan'... he and Azirafell has taken that Great Plan, shook it, torn it, turned it upside down, and inside out! How can this Great Plan still be up and running?!
"It's the entire reason for the creation of the Earth." Gabriel explained, with a smile.
"I've got this." Smiled Beelzebub, while Gabriel looked away furious with the Lord. "Adam..." They moved forward, and bowed to the boys height, perfect! Doing exactly what Gabriel was doing, telling the married couple they had no idea how to talk to children either, and Adam scowled. "When all this is over, you're going to get to rule the world." They assured, a patronising smile on their face. "Don't you want to rule the world?"
"It's hard enough having to think of things for Pepper and Wensleydale and Brian to do all the time so they don't get bored." Reasoned Adam, shaking his head, "I've got all the world I want." He was not going to do what two back stabbing, two faced adults wanted - no way!
Gabriel looked absolutely baffled, "well, you can't just refuse to be who you are." Beelzebub stepped back, as Gabriel continued. "Your birth, your destiny, they're part of the Great Plan."
Crowley looked to Azirafell to see him staring at them all warily. He took a deep breath and let out a polite cough, "ngk, ahem..." He sauntered froward, missing the double take his husband did. Azirafell eyes widened in fear and panic, watching Crowley walk forward.
Gabriel sighed, annoyed, and Beelzebub pursed their lips.
"S'cuse me," Crowley stood behind Adam on the left. "Y'keep talkin' about the Great Plan."
Gabriel raised a hand, "Raphael, maybe you should just keep your mouth shut." He pinched his index and thumb together.
"It's Crowley." Crowley smiled politely, "one thing I'm not clear on. Is that the Ineffable Plan?" He questioned, eyes soft and kind, though it had faltered to a bit sterner. He and Azirafell has ruined the Great Plan, and yet no God has come to Punish them, and the world still stands.
"The Great Plan!" Yelled Beelzebub. "It izzzz written!"
Crowley looked to Azirafell nervously, looking to see if he was getting it, and Azirafell stared at him in confusion, thinking through what his angel just suggested, looking between his husband and his boss. He was prepared to grab Crowley, and run, after knocking his boss out, because how dare they talk to his angel like that?!
"There shall be a world, and it shall last for six thousand years!" Beelzebub continued, and Gabriel gave his brother a dumb look, as if shocked he didn't know. "And end in fire and flame." Their eyes burned into Adam's.
"Yeah, yeah, that sounds like the Great Plan." Assured Crowley, who grew more and more smug, but hid it. He then asked, "just wonderin', is that the Ineffable Plan as well?" He challenged, with an air of one who just asked an unwelcome question in a political meeting and won't go away until he gets an answer. His kindness went away, his face no longer smiling, no longer friendly, and instead was replaced with a cold look, one that dared them to correct him.
Beelzebub looked a bit off, and looked between the angel and Antichrist.
Azirafell's mouth dropped in shock, he too realising why Crowley was bringing it up... the Plan was ineffable, they messed with the Great Plan, but not the ineffable one, as they're both alive and well, as is the Earth. He looked to the bosses, who were thinking, slightly thrown off. He too was now waiting for an answer.
"Well, they're the same thing." Reasoned Gabriel, as if that made sense. "Surely!" He raised a hand, squinting as if his brother was the dub one.
'Surely,' thought the demon in pure delight at the loophole. "You don't know." Whispered Azirafell in amazement, and he too strolled forward, now grinning like an idiot. "Uh..." He stood behind Adam on the right side. "Well, it would be rather embarrassing if you had thought you were doing what the Great Plan said, but you were actually going directly against God's Ineffable Plan."
Gabriel frowned, confused, and Crowley blinked smugly, a smirk on his face.
To further drive the point, Azirafell looked around, "I mean, everyone knows the Great Plan, correct darlings?" He looked to everyone, and nodded, prompting them to all shyly and nervously nodded along, (they had no clue). "But the Ineffable Plan... by definition, we can't know it. He smirked, "my dear, you can't be certain that what's happening right now isn't exactly right, from an ineffable point of view."
Crowley looked to their bosses confidently.
"But it izzzz... written." Reasoned Beelzebub, their argument falling weak.
"But it might be written differently somewhere else." Said Azirafell, "where you can't read it."
"In bigger letters," said Crowley.
"Underlined," Azirafell added.
"Twice," suggested Crowley.
"Perhaps this isn't just a test of the world." Azirafell said, feeling smug and cocky. "It might be a test of your people, too. Hmm?"
"God does not play games with the Universe, or Her loyal servants." Gabriel said, in a worried tone, pointing to the two of them. Beelzebub nodded, She didn't play games with the demons, She made them Fall.
Crowley smiled, and laughed, his eyes widened in sarcasm and shock, "whooo-eee!" He called, throwing his head back, as if that was the biggest load of rubbish in the world.
Azirafell sneered and asked, wanting a genuine answer, yet still with a sarcastic laugh and scoff, "where have you been?!"
The married couple looked to each other, sharing a look of confusion, wondering where their bosses were getting this information from, though their gazes were also in joy. It got even better for the two when they saw Gabriel and Beelzebub grow worried, and they held hands behind Adam's back.
"Can I just—?" Gabriel took Lord Beelzebub aside, and said, "um..." He pointed his index finger up, "I'm going to need to talk to... Head Office." He waved a hand, "how I am supposed to get ten million angels to stand down from their war footing is..." He waved a hand, stumbling over his words, "it doesn't bear thinking about."
Beelzebub looked dead, and horrified, "you should try to get ten million demons to put down their weapons and go back to work." They looked to Gabriel, who was leaning down.
"Well, at least we know whose fault it is!" Gabriel yelled, looking over to the Traitors, as did Beelzebub.
Crowley, one hand in his pocket, gave a relaxed, sarcastic, serpent-like, grinning smile to them with a shake of his head, and Azirafell raised his free hand, wiggling his fingers in a wave with a pleasant, friendly smile, while Adam just stared, tense and uncomfortable. Honestly, looking at it, it looks like two gay parents and their child at a homophobic family gathering.
"Young man..." Gabriel walked over to Adam, as did Beelzebub, his finger to his lips in disbelief. "You were put on this Earth for one reason and one reason only. To end it." He pounded his knuckles into the palm of his hands. "You're a disobedient little brat. And I hope someone tells your father." He pointed to the boy.
"Oh, they will." Beelzebub assured, staring at Adam with a dead eyed stare. Gabriel pointed to them with a jab of his thumb. "And your father will not be pleazzzzed," they buzzed out, teeth clenched together in anger.
Crowley and Azirafell shared a tense look of worry, and Gabriel and Beelzebub vanished in a puff of green and purple smoke and sparkle.
"Weren't they odd?" Questioned Madame Tracy. Though of course, she didn't mean that, it was just the way the mind worked to start rapid healing, to stop the body from screaming in terror. In half an hour she would think she had too much to drink.
Shadwell nodded in agreement.
Suddenly, something changed, something tense and it pulled at Azirafell's very being, metaphorically dragging him down. It was as if the winds had picked up in him, and had weighed him down with his muscles, shoulders and into his stomach. Like, two sharp clawed hands gripping his ankles, and dragging him down. Something shot through his chest, and immediately, Azirafell understood what was happening, and what the pain he was feeling was.
"No!" Screamed Azirafell from the sudden pain. "No!" He fell to the ground with a slam, his head hung low and pressed himself to the floor, no longer able to fight off the nonexistent hands. He curled in on himself, in agony as things shook around them, angrily, the ground quaking. Adam looked to him in worried confusion, while Crowley jumped in shock. Azirafell pressed himself to the ground, feeling a tortured stabbing pain, slashes and burns, with tight gripping and wringing of skin, "no! No, no, no, no, no, no, no!" His yells were mixed with throat calls, screams and... it sounded both human and inhuman, low and high, as he stuck out his tongue to get these noises. What else is he able to say? He was wrapped in a blanket of torment and fear.
"What's happening?" Crowley asked, moving over to help him, hearing the pain filled and distressed goat noises his husband was making. He paused in running over, as his eyes widened. "I can feel something." His face dropped, shoulders up to his ears, was this...?
"They did it." Azirafell breathlessly gasped, eyes blank, "they told his father." He grumbled out in shaking agony, cheek pressed to the floor.
Crowley swallowed back an anxiety filled, poison infused saliva, "oh shit..." He cursed with ease, now rather used to it, his heart slamming against his ribs.
"And his Satanic father is not happy." Azirafell said, slowly kneeling up shakily, eyes wide in mad panic, on all fours.
Something slammed, creating a bang, and it threw everyone about, making people stumble and yell in shock, clinging to each other.
"Perhaps it's a volcano!" Newt yelled, stumbling.
"No, there aren't any volcanoes in England." Anathema reasoned, trying to stabilise herself and her new boyfriend, and she groaned. "It's really angry, whatever it is. I can feel it." She stumbled, nodding to where she felt this anger coming from, "it's getting closer."
It threw everyone about again, and everyone screamed. The kids were thrown into each other. Madame Tracy flew forward, and Shadwell fell backwards. Azirafell fell back again, still on the floor, planning a means to escape.
"What's happening?" Shadwell demanded, stumbling and keeping Madame Tracy upright.
"Well, y'can call me 'n idiot, but it looks like the devil is comin', Satan 'imself." Crowley explained, hurriedly. He was frowning, eyes shining in worry.
Anathema nodded, all sarcastic.
"Oh, that's the way it is, is it?" Asked Shadwell, gun raised, not at all bothered or shocked after the day he's had, (though he is, he just wants to impress Madame Tracy). "Anyone wants to hurt the whore of Babylon is going to have to get past me!"
Newt and Anathema looked confused.
"Oh, Mr. Shadwell." Smiled Madame Tracy in a soft voice, touched as she cuddled closer to him.
Everything rumbled and grumbled, throwing everyone again. Azirafell fell again in pain, and Crowley stumbled backwards in shock. The kids stumbled into each other. Madame Tracy clung to Shadwell. Anathema and Newt helped each other to stay upright.
"Right. That was that." Nodded Azirafell to Crowley, who standing up right, there was no way out of this, "it was nice knowing you, my angel." He panted in pain, eyes soft and defeated.
"We can't give up, darling." Reasoned Crowley, sadly, shaking his head, "there are people!" He placed his hands on Azirafell's shoulders, desperately trying to calm the demon down.
"Yes, and me!" Azirafell reasoned back, knowing Crowley wanted to help the humans, but he was here. He looked up, his fearful eyes locking with Crowley's horrified gaze. "This is Satan himself! This isn't about Armageddon, anymore! This is personal!" The demon grumbled working through the pain, kneeling on his knees, looking to his angelic husband. "We are fucked!" He baa-ed out, angrily and in pain.
Everything grumbled in fury, and Crowley fell back, letting go of the demon, as he waved his arms to steady himself. Adam tumbled back, shocked. Anathema clung to Newt, who clung back. The kids held onto each other. Shadwell held and tumbling Madame Tracy. Azirafell looked around wildly for the danger, in a fear.
Crowley looked down, and saw the no longer Flaming Sword. He picked it up, and marched over, raising the sword up to Azirafell, "come up with something or...!" He trailed off, looking to the sword helplessly, he wasn't a fighter... he looked to Azirafell.
Azirafell looked up, eyes soft and panicked, waiting for his death either from the sword or Satan, or even a death threat from Crowley, his eyebrows raised. He was ready, he'd allow anything to happen to him if it was from Crowley, and deep down, Crowley knew that... six thousand years, and the demon on his knees did truly worship him like a God...
"Or I'll never talk to you again." Threatened Crowley with a breathlessly scared whimper, (he believed the threat to be weak, and pathetic). He lowered the sword, eyes soft and shaking his head.
Azirafell's eyes widened in fear at the thought, death he could deal with, but to live and never talk to Crowley?... suddenly, he stood up with a pained baa-ing growl and panting, and felt around for untouched power up, and dug deep into the pit of his stomach. With a yell, he threw his hands up to the sky, and screamed out another "baa!" He pulled.
Time suddenly stopped.
Another Place...
It was sunny, calm, empty and sandy. There on a sandy hill was Azirafell with sharp, pointed and angular black wings, his goat eyes scanning the area, and two curled horns on top of his head, still holding the car piece. Crowley stood with white smooth, large wings, and he stood with the still not Flaming Sword held up. The there was Adam in the middle, looking around and amazed, staring at the two.
The angel and demon stood, rolling their shoulder blades, stretching their wings and letting their muscles relax.
Crowley sighed, relaxing his wings and shoulders. He looked to Azirafell, and saw him put on his glasses, once again his eyes hidden. He held out the sword, "I believe this is yours, darling."
Azirafell looked over and smiled softly, he took the sword, and gave him the car piece, "you're going to need a weapon in case everything goes pear-shaped."
Crowley took it with a small laugh and smile. He watched as the demon held up the sword, and there was a whoomph as it suddenly flamed like the silky fur of a black panther, with fluttering flames like black ribbon, a far cry from what it was in The Beginning, and when War held it.
Azirafell smiled, and rubbed his thumb over it the handle, having (beautifully, in Crowley's opinion) come into his demonic powers, "once you've learned how to do it, you never forget." He said fondly, looking to Crowley, his eyes soft behind the glasses; you're right, it's mine... it's always been mine...
"You had it before The Fall..." Crowley said, eyes soft and gentle.
Azirafell's smile softened, but he knew this wasn't the time, maybe later when all this was over. "Adam, listen," Azirafell looked to the boy, now serious, his voice kind and soft. "Your father is coming to destroy you. And, probably to destroy all of us."
"My dad?" Questioned Adam in doubt, "he wouldn't hurt anybody." He assured, it seemed ridiculous and humorous that his dad would do something like that.
"Not your Earthly father. Satan." Corrected the demon, "your father who is no longer in Heaven. He is coming, and he is angry."
"So, what do you want me to do about it?" Questioned Adam, "fight him?" He asked, scared and his eyes flashing in mad panic.
It fell silent between them, the angel and demon sharing wary looks.
Hesitantly, Azirafell said, regretfully, "I don't think fighting him would do any good. You're going to have to come up with something else." He moved forward, trying to calm the boy.
"But I'm just a kid." Reasoned the boy, turning away from them in fear, and he looked out. He felt... small...
"But that's not a bad thing t' be, Adam." Smiled Crowley, as he too walked forward. Adam looked to Crowley. "Y'know, I was scared that you'd be Hell incarnate. I hoped you'd be Heaven incarnate. But y'not either of those things." He smiled fascinated and amazed, "you're better. You're human incarnate." He shared a soft look with his husband, and Azirafell shared an equally soft look with him.
"Adam, reality will listen to you right now." Reassured Azirafell, and the boy looked to him. "You can change things."
"And whatever happens, for good or for evil..." Said Crowley, taking the boys hand comfortingly, "we're with you."
Azirafell took the boys other hand gently, and Adam took a deep, shaky breath, relishing the comfort these men gave him. He looked to Azirafell, "you know, they fear your horns."
"What?" Questioned the demon.
"You're The Principality," said Adam, looking at him as if looking into his soul, seeing his entire life story. "It's why Satan wants you, why they fear you, you're powerful..." He looked around, as if that proved his claims - the demon did stop time.
Azirafell looked around, "well, in that case, I'm going to restart time." Explained the demon. "You won't have long to do whatever you're going to do." He warned, softly.
Azirafell spun his sword with ease, and then held it up, while Crowley spun the car part. Winds picked up, blowing their wings back, making them unsteady, sand spun around their feet, and suddenly, time started again. There they stood, hand in hand, at Tadfield Air Base.
"Do it quickly." Azirafell begged, reeling the sword back for a fight.
The ground moved, ripped up with a rumble, a fiery base under it with yellow smoke, and a monstrous red hand shot through the ground, and out came a fiery red coloured giant figure with a big crown of black horns, teeth and claws, glaring down at them with an inhumane roar, with it's large red, and slightly torn wings spread out, with horns and spikes on them. Azirafell recoiled slightly in terror and fear, and Crowley held his breath. Everyone gasped and stared in fear and terror, letting out small whimpers.
First, his eyes landed on Azirafell, and he scowled, "Azirafell..."
Said demon gulped; no more being asked if he would guard him, at least he has that. He gave a shaky smile, "hello Satan."
"Where is my son?" Came Satan's angry, grumbled voice, awaiting his demons answer.
Azirafell realised this, and realised, his former Lord believed him to be under his control. Slowly, he shook his head, "I'm not telling you..."
Adam, being the brave Antichrist that he is, shakily walked forward, eyes wide in terror, but stood protectively in front of the angel and demon.
Satan's eyes fell onto Adam, "you? You're my rebellious son? Come here."
Adam marched forward, and the angel and demon got ready to attack if needed.
"You're not my dad." Adam said, looking up to Satan with a shake of his head. "Dads don't wait until you're eleven to say hello, and then turn up to tell you off." He spat.
"What?" Questioned Satan, with confusion, his wings falling slightly.
"If I'm in trouble with my dad..." Said Adam, the ground rumbled, throwing everyone about, "...then it won't be you. It's going to be the dad who was there. You're not my dad!"
"What did you say?" Gasped Satan in shock.
"You can do it!" Shouted Crowley, holding the car part up, spinning it and his knuckles white, his grip tightening.
"Say it, Adam." Azirafell called, sword raised in battle position. He had placed himself protectively in front of the Archangel, like he had done before The Fall, "say it again!"
Satan slammed his hands down, the floor on lave under the devil raised, and the ground shook, "come here."
"You're not my dad." Repeated Adam, "you never were."
"No." Said Satan, crumbling into dark, black smoke. "No, no, no, no, no, no!" He glared at Azirafell, who glared back, and he disappeared with one final, "no!"
Crowley and Azirafell felt the world change.
A car drove forward and pulled up as the smoke disappeared. The angel looked around, and the demon looked to his sword confused, it was still Flaming, the two looked to each other softly.
A man got out the car, "Adam? Adam?" Called the figure, and Azirafell recognised him from eleven years ago. Mr. Young... he moved forward.
"That's not really his father." Whispered Crowley, squinting.
"Oh, for Heaven's sake. Where is he?" Questioned Mr. Young.
"It is." The demon realised, "it is now. And it always was." He grinned in joy, "he did it. He grew up human, and is to be left alone..." He smiled, baa-ing out happily, and looked at Crowley, who smiled back softly and amazed.
"Adam!" Mr. Young slowed down in his panicked stumbling, and frowned confused, looking at the odd gang. "Would anyone here care to explain to me what exactly is going on?!" He demanded angrily.
Adam stared at his Dad, and he knew, he was unable to tell him the truth. So, Azirafell stood in with a small, and sly, tempting smile, and telling a small, white lie to get the child out of trouble; why, they were playing Armageddidn't.