Archive of Our Own

He didn't remember much - of the fall, that is. Nor much at all, really. 

His name, or life before that moment, nothing was there and all was dark around. It hadn't always been dark. This soil he slithered in was muddy and cold and nothing like what he had known - although he doesn't know what he had known, or can't remember. He flickered his tongue around and smelled sulfur, and cinder and blood. Must move forward. Must find whatever it was that was before, home and light. 

Oh please please let there be light. 

"Crawley" - a voice called. The sound vibrated through the ground and he knew it was him it wanted. Was that his name? Can't be right. So vile. He had a better name before, he is sure of it. What was that sweeter name? Not there. Not yet.

Then the voice told him his Purpose - to go the Garden of Eden. To slither past the all seeing eyes of the Angel of the Eastern Gate and make his way in the grass - wait there, hidden, and watch God's creation looking for a flaw. He didn’t ask why - there was a pain, stinging, excruciating, that came with even as much as thinking that word, why. Obedience didn’t burn, and so he obeyed.
As he made his way out of the gutter and through the sand, light hit the slits in his eyes, and as light came memories, confused flashes, wrapped him. 

Lucifer and his mates were just making a bit of messin around, really. Crowley was  enjoying their company even though he shouldn't have.
Mum won't be mad. 

A drunk seraph stood on a cloud, mocking Her. 

"I love you all, my children" they chirped in a strident falsetto "and to show you my love you SHALL OBEY ME EVERY ORDER" - Their voice plummeted to a grave bass and everyone laughed. The seraph's name was Beezle, maybe. Something like that. They bent down dramatically, taking laughter and applause in, and gesticulating so wide they tripped backwards - all laughed. 

Mum won’t be mad. 

Crawly didn't find it funny, too concerned the seraph might have hurt themself. But all the others had laughed and so had he. It was all fine - Lucifer pushed Beezle down again, making them trip. The roar of laughter that follow was louder and wilder than he had ever heard. More chaotic.

Won’t Mum be mad?

Suddenly the crowd was a frenzy. Mephistopheles and Asmodeus pushed him. It hurt. He had punched back. 

Somewhere, he could hear Lucifer's laughter turn in a roar. In the corner of his eye he glimpsed two more angels, tangled and pulling each other's hair. One was crying. The other laughing. He tried to focus on the laughter, tried to laugh himself as the punches kept coming.

It was all fine. It was all fun. Banter in good spirit: boys will be boys? Maybe. What's a boy. What's a gender. Who knows.

As a fist landed right on his eyes, it all started going dark. 

Mum will be mad.

And he remembered he had promised to someone he'd be home soon that night, just a drink with me mates really, don't worry my sweet angel. 

"that's quite alright, my dear" that someone had replied. "I just... Have a bad feeling. All silly, I'm sure."

"aye, a silly feeling. That's what that is. It will all be fine, angel. I promise." he said. He had kissed his cheek and left.

How wrong he had been.

Before he could remember further, before he could find out what the face of his love was, he once again was a serpent in the ground. The blinding light started slowly fading into a new darkness, so dissimilar from the pit where he had awoken at first. It wasn't empty. It was something familiar, even though he couldn't say why. And its warmth hugged him in a blue embrace. Brightness from above guided him, starts he could gaze at as he made his way through the gutter. 

*

Somewhere in that same desert, an angel stood on a tall wall and didn't know why. He didn't ask. He just stood there and held his sword tight. 

He was not sure She had chosen the right angel to fend off fiends with that mighty weapon, but he kept the doubt buried in his throat, no matter how wrong that felt. he wasn't gonna dare to whisper it.

He knew what had happened to those who had questioned her - not that he knew any of them. Just the voices, the whispers about the Fallen, and he wasn't sure why he was so avidly listening. He wanted to know it all, needed to know. As he thought about it he tightened his grasp on the sword. 

A fight - all drunk on ambrosia. Ambrosia had been banned after that too, and he missed its sweet tingle on the tongue just enough to be sad about it. Some angels had screamed to the face of God and walked backwards to their downfall, some of them had cried and pleaded on their knees, but the fire and cinder had swollen them too. One of them had stayed in a corner, someone had said. He had his back against a wall and tried to quietly slide away while Her anger resonated through all the kingdoms of Heaven. 

Then She had turned Her light on him and he stood still. 

"I - this was lovely your gracious highness. Veeeery scary. Sure put the fear of, erm, God in me. Think I'll go nap now if you don't mind." he had muttered, making his way as far as he could from the border of the clods from which one after the other the angels kept falling. 

Then a wind had all wrapped him and prostrated him and as hard as he kept fighting his feet failed him. As he tripped over the edge his auburn locks flew all around him in a whirlwind. Hair and hellfire were indistinguishable amongst the fluttering ashes and one angel who was there swore to Aziraphale, he swore he could almost hear that Fallen whisper "sorry", and then another Angel's name. Whose name, though, he couldn't tell, as the roar of a newborn hell rose up and then the clouds closed.  

All had returned to the peace of Paradise, but God Herself was silent. Aziraphale would have sworn he couldn't feel her love, but pain. 

He gazed at the horizon, warm from the fire. When was he going to need that sword? He wondered. Never, he hoped. And yet, beyond all orders and weapons and fear the angel knew there was something coming for him in that garden, something he should have feared but did not. 

*

In the garden and the wastelands around, all was quiet. A young moon shone bright on their heavy souls as an angel and a demon both closed their eyes. They desperately craved a rest they didn’t need, unaware of each other’s pain.

Crawly looked up and saw Eden. High walls appeared in his horizon, and golden gates. There, brighter than any star, he saw a mighty flame - he wasn't sure why, but everything in him was telling him he should rush to it. 

If only he could get there, he somehow knew, it would have all been alright.