Chapter Text
It was done. Almost, at least, as there was one key component of the Plan missing. The now adult Antichrist exchanged looks with the recently returned Christ himself. It was one thing to get delegations of angels, demons and humans to Tadfield and successfully negotiate how to stop the end of the world to everybody's satisfaction. On the eve before Judgment Day, there was only one vital thing left to do: get them to talk again.
To be fair, they had tried. And collectively and individually, they had both failed miserably.
On a cognitive level, they had agreed on the following points:
1. Earth and humanity need to be protected from the Second Coming.
2. Only an alliance of angels, demons and humans can hope to accomplish this.
3. They're both idiots, but their centuries-long arrangement has shown them that they're extremely talented at tempting and letting others do the work.
4. All recruits come with their strengths and their weaknesses. Muriel's warm naivety is combined with immense knowledge of the inner machinations of Heaven. Furfur's dad joke humor and old bitterness are juxtaposed with calculation and demonic expertise. And Gabriel and Beelzebub's valuable insights come at the price of their unbearable public display of affection.
5. The brand-new bee stripe pattern on the Bentley's seats looks very modern and not suspicious at all, thank you very much. And it was definitely the right time to swap the radio for a modern Bluetooth device that reliably sticks to the selected Spotify playlist.
6. Aziraphale's strategic move to steal the Book of Life should never have worked without serious consequences, and it is more luck than sense that the Metatron is still not suspicious of Aziraphale and has not previously erased his chosen Supreme Archangel from existence. (However, they disagree on whether the theft and Aziraphale's double agent status are worth the risk. Nor do they agree on whether such plans need to be discussed in advance. There was no time, Crowley. In fact, these positions were loudly strengthened after said Demon had stormed out of a meeting, closely followed by an initially very concerned Supreme Assangel, and had vomited into an award-winning Tadfield rosebush. The dispute ultimately had to be broken up by no less than seven Erics, two of whom had almost been discorporated by lightning.)
7. All their efforts to come to an agreement are doomed to failure and since the end is indeed getting closer every day, it is better not to talk, generally not to look at each other and to stay as far away from each other as possible. It’s better for everyone. (It is not.)
Adam and Jesus would bear primary responsibility on Judgment Day, scheduled for 9:13 a.m. tomorrow. But they both felt that Aziraphale and Crowley still had their part to play. An inexplicable haze of strange importance hovered around the two of them. At the same time, both were easily distracted (especially by each other's existence), clueless as to HOW the end of the world would be stopped in practice, and deeply s
wounded by each other. They liked to cover up the last part with varying degrees of success, but Anathema in particular was plagued by the migraine-inducing disruption of their auras. Adam had hoped to get his emotions under control as he entered adulthood. But after he was drawn into the vortex of these two ancient beings, older than time itself, he quickly gave up this hope.
Since Jesus and Crowley were old friends and Aziraphale still only stammered in awe before the Messiah, Adam sought out the angel, who was 1sitting on a bus bench.
"Should have agreed then and there", he murmured to himself.
"To what?" Adam responded as he sat down right next to him.
Aziraphale looked at Adam in surprise: "Oh, nothing to worry about. How can I help you? I assumed you were spending the evening with your family."
Adam wasted no time (there wasn't much left anyway): "I will. There is one last thing Jesus and I need, though. The book of life needs to be brought to your bookshop. We don't want to give away its location with miracles, and humans can't reach it after the destruction of most of London. You should go by car."
The angel looked puzzled: "My dear boy, I'm afraid you asked the wrong being. Crowley will surely be glad to help and to get away from... here." He sighed deeply and played with the ring on his pinky. Here sat one of the most powerful creatures in the universe, powerless in the face of his deepest inner desires, endlessly handicapping himself.
"He shouldn't drive there on his own, it's too important", Adam pleaded and continued before Aziraphale could interrupt him: "Aziraphale, listen to me, this could be our last night ever. Jesus will be off to see his mum, Nina and Maggie are having a picnic somewhere, and I'm having dinner with all of my friends and family. Those are the people we love. Who do YOU want to spend these moments with? Don't tell me it's Saraquael."
"I... I don't know what to say or do. What if I worsen it? It could derail the whole Plan."
"The Plan is set in stone, just go for a drive. Look, without you two, there wouldn't even be a plan. You united so many people, barely talking. There would be no hope at all for anyone without you. Think of what you can do if you finally communicate properly. Stop being so afraid. And even if you don't, you deserve a final chance to be together. Just the two of you."
"Interesting", Adam thought to himself as he felt a tiny shift in the angel. Something about his last sentence had finally convinced Aziraphale.