Work Text:
??? ???? ????
Using Her omniscient sight, God made sure that everything was settled and ready to go before kicking the whole thing into action.
Granted, Time wouldn’t start just yet, giving Her a comfortable room for manoeuvre to adjust Her Plan if the need came to be. After all, some key figures in the unfolding of It All were not settled quite yet, maybe She would even choose them at the very last moment.
Though well-aware that already planning in broad strokes how Everything would End before everything truly start could be considered strange, She had Her reasons and, well…
It wasn’t as if She had lot of people left around Her that could complain about it. “But it is true that I’m feeling quite lonely at the current moment, but there’s little that can be done about it, right, my friend?”
As expected, She received no answers.
“I can’t already wait to see where this path will all lead us to.” With Her left hand, She gently stroke the wall of ice standing in front of Her, “And to get to see you once again as well, even if I’ll have to wait thousands of years before that happens.”
There was no sign telling Her that Aurora had heard Her, but it was fine. It wasn’t as if the other could have given one, after all.
“Good luck, my friend.”
Then, turning on Her heels, she exited the cave before willing Herself to the place where She could oversee Her Creation. Then, with a snap of her fingers, She started it all.
oOoOoOo
July the 1st, 2013.
Aziraphale looked up from his book from where he sat in his usual spot behind the counter to take in the stormy expression crossing Brenda’s face as she entered the Bookshop.
“Hard day?” he asked, slipping a bookmark between the pages of the novel he was reading so that he could give the human his full attention.
Not that he needed on to remember where he had left his reading. He was an angel, after all, and had perfect memory. But after centuries of living among humans, he had picked many few things that helped him blend more easily in the crowd than what was taught in Heaven.
“Not really, just an obnoxious idiot that ran into me as I walked down the park in front of my office after my work hours.” She sighed, rubbing at her forehead, “Your average white, middle aged, conservative cis man. All in muscles and cardio training, running around with a stupid smirk on his face. He almost crashed me to the ground, and next thing I know, he was shaking me by the shoulder, with a stupid smile on his face.”
The angel grimaced at the mental picture.
“I can see why this caused you distress.”
She grunted, “And that’s not even the end of it! Because while shaking me like some sort of cocktail mixer, he started to sprout nonsense about ‘The Time has finally come! The end is Nigh and I can’t wait for it!” the human visibly shuddered, “It had been quite a while since last time I’ve encountered a fundamentalist like him, and it reminded me why I avoid them like the plague.”
A strange, foreboding feeling started to show its ugly nose in the back of the angel’s mind, though he did his best to wrestle it back to the darkness.
“He didn’t do anything more to you, did he?”
“Thankfully not, or you might have to bail me out of jail by now.” She joked before pulling up the bag she had hanging from her shoulder, “But enough with that. I have the law books I mentioned last time with me, so shall we examine them together?”
Aziraphale only smiled gently in return, gesturing for the woman to lead the way toward that corner of the bookshop where she and the others humans always returned to.
“Mr Crowley is not here?” asked Brenda as she sat on one of the bean bags surrounding the low table next to the window, a relieved sigh escaping her lips.
Once again, that strange anxiety started to nag at his throat.
“Unfortunately, not. He left half an hour ago, telling me he had something important to do and not to expect him back home until tomorrow morning.”
oOoOoOo
It wasn’t a dark and stormy night, yet Crowley wished it was, for it would fit the strange foreboding feeling that had started to pile in the bottom of his stomach since he received his summon to that remote cemetery lost in the British countryside.
For some strange reasons, the demon was reminisced of the very first storm that had poured down over Earth all those millennials ago. There hadn’t more than seven days back then and Adam and Eve had just been kicked out of Eden with nothing with them except some leaves to cover their bodies and a flaming sword given by an Angel that cared a little bit too much.
Back then, Humanity had all the time in the Universe to make the best of the world they had been given.
And they did, as well as the worst, and Crowley had loved them even more so because of that, even though it was unbecoming from a proper demon.
But as he parked the Bentley near the rendez-vous point, cutting off the voice of Freddy Mercury as he sang about Radio Ga Ga, Radio-Gou Gou-
“All Hail, Satan” said at once Hastur and Ligur, Dukes of Hell, as he approached them, disapproval clear in their eyes for Crowley knew he was fashionably late.
On purpose, of course.
“Hail Satan,” he answered back with that nonchalant air of his he had spent the last five hundred years mastering, “Sorry I'm late, but you know how it is on the A40 at Denham. I tried to cut up towards Chorleywood-”
“Let us recount the evil deed of the day.”
Crowley mentally rolled his eyes at being cut out like this, moreover, so to be told that the other two had managed to corrupt a priest and a politician.
If they truly knew Humanity, they would know none of them needed external influence to be dragged toward their-
It was with some satisfaction that he explained to them how he had managed to piss-off millions of people simply by taking down the mobile phone network for the entire night, taking in their somewhat dismay expressions and thinking that he could two more pissed-off people to his already long list.
“So, what’s up?” he finished, taking a deep sniff that almost sounded like an amused snort.
Said amusement quickly died when the pale skinned Duke of Hell, with a wicked smirk on his disgraceful face, extended his way a wicker basket.
“This is.”
Ice flooded his entire being as he suddenly understood what it was.
“No…”
“Yes.” Answered Ligur in a sickly-sweet tone.
“Already?”
“Yes.”
Crowley stared down at the basket Hastur was still extending his way, now realising why he was feeling so wrong footed for hours now.
That was it.
The Time had finally come.
In a little over a decade, humanity in its entirety - his mortals friends drowning in sea of blood, burning within inferno begging for mercy, him forced to clash sword with Aziraphale, his angel, his best friend, his other half - would be destroyed by the whim of the beings waiting peacefully inside his improvised cradle.
As if sensing his thoughts, The Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Prince of this World and Lord of Darkness also known as The Antichrist or son of Satan blew out a raspberry.
“And it’s up to me to…?” how he didn’t stammer was beyond him as some deep part of his self wrestled with the mounting anxiety threatening to overtake him, “That’s nice of you, but I really don’t think this is… Why me?”
“As you often said yourself, they love you Down There.” Hastur words were dripping with sarcasm, though there was no way to hide the delight that had started to burn in his dark eyes, “Ligur here would give his right arm to be you tonight.”
If he wants this so badly, he can take my place alright without even needing to give up his arm the Serpent thought to himself, though nothing could be seen on his face, eyes hidden by his sunglasses.
Hastur made a movement of his hand, and an Infernal Contract appeared, “Sign here.”
Crowley did so, using his ŕ̷̨̝̠̦͖̦̝͎͎̪̞͍̌ͅe̵̛̖̻͇͙̳̙̳̪̪̫̫͕͔͈̾̈́̓̆̈̎͝ą̴̨̦̗̲̺̼̬̠̪̦̮̈́͆ͅl̴̛͖̍̀̽͂͒͊̾̀̈́̿̕͘͜ ̸̤̫̱͔̝͍̙̖͍̞̻̝̗̆N̸̛̹̘̻͉̤͎̤̬͕͕͓̾́̈̃̉̇͌̀͛̂͘͜͜͠ä̷̧̛͈̪̝͎͇̥̮̣̝̦̟̲̭̠͂͊͂̋̅̀̾̊̑m̸̻̯̘̪̙̠͕̝̺͐͋̔̓̿ĕ̸̯͈̳̦̖̔̍̑̔̒̃̒̽͝͝͝ , bounding himself to the task with the same
nonchalant air he had managed to keep until now.
Burying his hands in his pockets, hoping to delay the moment the son of his master would be untrusted into his care, he asked, “Now what?”
“You’ll receive your instructions as soon as you’ll leave.” Explained Hastur.
“Ah.”
“Why looking so gloom?” wondered Ligur, tilting his head on the side as he pinned him down with a cold look, “The moment we’ve been working on all these centuries is at hand-”
Centuries, eh?
“-Our moment of Eternal Triumph awaits-”
Triumph, ah!
“- And you will be a tool of that glorious destiny.”
And I who thought that Demons were created because they refused to bend the neck to Someone Else’s Will?
And now, look at them, at the beak and call of our ‘Glorious’ Master.
“Yeah, okay… Well, then…” it took his entire willpower to force his arm to move, for his fingers to uncurl from his palm to take the basket, to once again do as he was ordered to, “I’ll…I’ll be off then…”
“Get it over with.” Snarled Hastur as Crowley turned on his heels, purposefully keeping his careless façade up until the very last moment.
Instead, he waved a dismissive hand in their direction, “Of course, Ciao.”
He thought he heard asking what that word meant and Hastur answering ‘Food in Italian’. Had he not been so stressed, he would have laugh at the Dukes lack of knowledge about Humankind.
But the fact was that his mind was preoccupied by something else, namely the Spawn of the Devil cooing on the backseat of the Bentley from within his basket.
“Shit shit shit shit SHIT! Why me?”
“Mama~ Ouh ouh ouh~ I don’t wanna di-IT’S BECAUSE YOU DERSERVED IT, CROWLEY.” Declared Freddy Mercury through the radio, and the demon had to bite his tongue very hard to stop the startled hiss that wanted to escape his lips.
“WHAT YOU DID WITH THE M25 WAS A STROKE OF DEMONIC GENIUS? DARLING.”
“Well, uh, I guess but-”
“HERE ARE YOUR INSTRUCTIONS,” cut the one using Queen lead singer’s voice, small clouds of dark power escaping the cd player to force their ways directly into Crowley’s face.
“THIS IS THE BIG ONE, CROWLEY. DON’T DISSAPOINT ME-oh, mama mia, mama mia let me go!”
“Shit…”
Then, with an abrupt pull on the wheel of his car, the demon started to make his way toward his destination.
oOoOoOo
July the 4th, 2013
Desmond looked up from his book as Hershel finally returned from his unexpected, last-minute planned meeting.
His brother looked conflicted, a stormy expression on his face as he stepped inside, hanging his cloak next to his before making his way toward the couch and fell on it with a loud sigh.
In the last year or so he had shared home with Hershel, both to help him through his recovery and to avoid wasting more money than necessary on housing, he had learned many things about how his brother usually acted and expressed himself.
Whatever was going on, it had deeply unsettled the young archaeologist.
“… Your meeting didn’t go as well as you expected, then?”
“No, it was fine, really. My interlocutor was more than kind, it’s just… The reason why they called me.”
Making sure that he had left a bookmark in, Desmond closed the book in his hands before laying it on the coffee table, “Is this the alcohol type of discussion, or the tea one?”
“Tea.” Answered Hershel, unknowingly unloosing the knot starting form itself in his big brother’s chest, “I just… wasn’t expecting it.”
Nodding once, Desmond busied himself into making the tea ready, taking out a tin of biscuit out of the pantry while Hershel exchanged his shoed for a comfortable pair of slippers.
Unsurprisingly, his top hat was still on his head, but he didn’t call him out on it.
After all, he was still wearing Louella’s charms bracelet around his wrist and Willow’s birth medal on a necklace hidden beneath his shirt.
Instead, he made sure that the tea was properly done before taking it all to the living room.
“Now, explain what all this was about.” Fired out Desmond, handing his brother a fuming cup of tea before settling himself on the couch as well, waiting for him to elaborate about what was heaving on his mind.
Hershel stared into the dark liquid for almost a minute, brows furrowed as a muscle on his jaws ticked from time to time, the only outward proof of his inner turmoil.
“After Clark and Brenda’s wedding, Claire and I had started to discuss what we desired for… Our future together.” Eventually breathed out Hershel, his voice breaking the almost deafening silence of the room, “And as much as Brenda liked to joke about the fact Claire and I could technically get married because she was legally recognised as a woman, we’ve had decided that we’d go for a civil partnership first and see what would happen from then on, but I was still on making a proper demand to her, because she deserved no less than the real deal, and I wanted to give her as much as it was legally possible.”
His words caught in his throat, and he had to take a few moments to get his breathing under control. Desmond, on the other hand, silently drank from his cup, waiting for his brother to find his words back.
“But making our relationship official wasn’t the only thing we’ve started to plan…” he let out a long sigh, rubbing at his forehead tiredly, “We’ve also applied for adoption.”
Desmond blinked back at his brother, surprised.
Not that he doubted Hershel’s ability to care for a child, but from all the stories he heard about him and Claire, it was the last thing he expected.
“We told no one about this, not even Clark or Brenda. We wanted to take it at our own rhythm, even though Claire and I already had all the needed appointments with the social workers, both for administrative reasons as well as for teaching us the basic facts of raising a child. The plan was to have our partnership legally recognised and finally be able to adopt in the following year but…”
“The explosion happened.”
Hershel nodded grimly, hands tightening around his cup, “Yes. It put a sudden halt to the process and, well… I never really took the time to think back about it since then.”
The pieces started to slot together in Desmond’s mind, “So today…?”
“Three days ago, a baby boy was born in a monastery somewhere in the Oxfordshire. The mother died giving birth, had nothing on her that could clue on her identity, and there was no father or other partner with her when she presented herself after her waters broke.” Hershel started to play with the handle of his cup, “Apparently, the child needs special care, for he has some breathing issues, though no life threatening, thank goodness.” He quickly added, “But the paediatrician was apparently very insistent that getting the child into a proper, stable home would be better for his health rather than to be left into an orphanage.”
Desmond hummed in agreement. After all, he was well aware that children tended to easily catch diseases by being in close proximity to each other, and if the boy had already breath issues, he could see why the doctor wanted for him to put placed as soon as possible.
“And after examinations of all the files they had, the nuns decided that you would be a good candidate.”
Hershel nodded, “Indeed. After all I had already passed all the required appointments and lessons back when Claire and I were first planning for an adoption. I honestly thought that with her dead, well, they wouldn’t consider my application anymore.”
“Many children are raised every year by single parent.”
“I know but, between everything, it slipped my mind…” sighed his little brother before taking another sip of his tea, “The Mother Superior was very adamant that my profile is the best one for the baby. I have a more than fair source of income, a strong social network around me and, with the summer break, all the time needed for the boy’s needs and care until his breathing issues are completely healed.”
Hershel then turned his dark eyes toward the window, watching the London’s skyline with so many emotions in his gaze it was difficult to differentiate one from the other.
“She told me that he was going to be brought to London tomorrow, to put them under the care of a paediatrician specialised into the kind of issues he has. She offered me to meet him at the orphanage he’s going to stay in the meantime, though she insisted that I’d have to give my answer before the tenth. After that date, or if I refuse adoption, he will be recognised as a ward of the state until someone step in to adopt him.”
Desmond let out the breath that had eventually caught itself in his throat, letting it out purposefully before scooting closer to his brother and wrapping an arm around his shoulders.
“No wonder you looked so conflicted. That is quite a lot that has been just dropped upon your laps.”
Hershel let out a mirthless laugh, “No kidding, though I can’t help but think that they all want me to take him in. They even offered to pay and give me all the necessities – a bed, powder milk, diapers - I would need as soon as accept so that he can be placed into my care on the same day.”
“No wonder this caused you some stress.”
His brother nodded tiredly, making Desmond’s heart twist in his chest.
“How about this: tomorrow morning, we will discuss the situation a bit more with well rested minds, then you and I will settle when we’ll go to the orphanage and meet that baby and see from there what you want to do for him. Does that sound agreeable to you?”
Hershel made an agreeing sound, “Seems like the most rational way of thinking about all this.”
“Good then. In that case, go take a shower, get into some comfy clothes and let’s try to get your mind to focus on something else for the rest of the night.” Declared Desmond before pushing his brother off the couch, “For example, I have created a few more puzzles for you to twist your neurons on, because honestly? I think I’ve outdone myself.”
Shaking his head fondly, his little brother let out a soft chuckle, “I’m sure you did.”
“Off you go now. I didn’t want to tell you earlier because you looked miserable enough as it was but, my dear brother, you stink more than an antic trashcan.”
The pillow thrown at his head was as much deserved as totally worth it.
oOoOoOo
July the 1st 2013
It is important to note that God did not play dice with the universe, rather an ineffable game of Her own device more akin to playing poker in a pitch-dark room, for infinite stakes, with a dealer who won't tell you the rules, and who smiles all the time.
A bit unsettling, She can agree with you on this, but being who She was, better accept the rules and try to make the best of it.
On the night that chapter of the story began, as the Serpent of Eden finally parked his beloved car in the Satanic Monastery of the Chattering Order of St Beryl’s gardens, God smiled to Herself, took her favourite deck and started to deal the cards.
Crowley slammed the backdoor of his car close, the basket containing the Antichrist, also known as The Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Prince of This World and Lord of Darkness, dangling loosely in his hand. Thanks… Something, the baby hadn’t let out a single cry or protest. Maybe he even had enjoyed the ride.
Waiting outside the building was a man dressed rather casually and smoking quite anxiously his pipe as he dug a hole on the ground. Crowley guessed that the man was Thaddeus Dowling, American Ambassador and future caretaker of the Spawn of Satan, even though against his will.
“Uh, you’ve left your lights on.” Said American Ambassador, gesturing at the Bentley, more than certainly hoping to distract his frazzled nerves away from the experience his wife was going through without him by her side.
The nuns had been quite adamant that he wasn’t allowed inside, after all. It wouldn’t do for the man to witness by mistake the swap as it’ll happen.
With a quick snap of his fingers, the demon turned the lights off, drawing an amazed whistle out of the human, “Quite clever. Tell me, is that infrared?”
“Has it started yet?” Crowley asked instead.
“I suppose so, they told me to wait outside.”
“Any idea of how long we’ve got?”
“I think we were getting on with it, doctor-” but the demon had already passed him, aiming for the large double doors without a second look in the human direction.
“What room is she in?”
“We’re in room three.”
“Room three, got it.” And then he was inside.
Had Crowley not been so worried about the fact that he was currently delivering the One who would destroy the world and kill all those he cared for in eleven year time, he would have thought it was strange for an American Ambassador to have such a thick British countryside accent.
It may help to understand human affairs to know that most of the great triumphs and tragedies of history are caused not by people being fundamentally good or fundamentally bad, but by people being fundamentally people.
And after living among humans for the entirety of their history, it is also very important to note that the demon Crowley, also known as the Serpent of Eden or
Ŗ̸̫̳͇͚̖͎̀̀͑͊̑̋̈͝@̸̫̐̈́̊̆͆̇̿̄̀̚̕̕͝p̵̡̧͚̪͍̟̹̘̘͚͙͖͛̈́͂̉̎̈̌̒̓̄̒̏̀͋̐͜!̸̟̰̤̆̎!̴̡̻̬̺̖͍̱̪̞̥͔͙̜͕̺͂̈̾̔̔̍̿͂͐͌͆͋̓͘͘;̸̧̨͖͓̠͕̻̺͗̄̓͂̾̇̊̇̒͊̂͂̋͘͠,̶̺̣̞̠̬̤͚͛̊̾͌̇̈́̆̄̌̇͒̈́̚ę̴̥̦̻̹̗̲͖͖̪́̈́̓̀̎̓̾͋͗͌͊̀͜͜͜'̷̢̨̛̩̯̬͖̍́̑̒͌̅̚"̴̣͚͙̰͔̙̤̬͉̤͎̠̠̔̋̀͋̕͜͝'̸̢̨̡̛͚͚̱̙͊̑̎̌̋̔̃͜͠'̵̡̛̩͎̤̻͔͖͙̠̲̮̯̂̿̑́̅̾̈́͝&̸̣̳͉͈͓̼̈́̈̊̅̈́̑̈̃̔̾h̵̨̗̼̜̘̩͎̘̱͂̍͗͗͊͑@̸̻͔̣̳̙͕̩̻̪̒͘ͅ-̵̨̢̡̧͙̤̰̪͕̟̪͍͈̱̊͒̋͠ͅ(̷̧͎̗͓̠̪͙͔̫̩̻͈̤̦͙̓̃͛̀'̷̥͎͙̝̮̲̭͕̦̝̆̚-̷̢͇͕̗̭̮̰̰̼̙̯͂͂̆̈́̐̇̄͒͠͠ͅͅ!̶̰̜̤͍̩͈̙͍̖̻̆̆̈͝͝!̵̝͎͙̍̕;̴̤͇̇̀̌̄̒͌̀͋͛̓͘͘͠͝?̶̛̞͚̺̋͋̈͌͌̔̽͐́͛̌́̍͝ę̸̩̮̳̯̱̤͇̥̝́̓͆̿̄ͅ'̵̯̪̣͔̈̿̓̈́̌̎̍͘̕'̷̛̲̘̜͓̗̫͚̰̳̈́͑́̌̉̃̍͂̂̽͝&̷̡̠̰̀́͑͠ before his Fall had gone native.
The man the demon had mistakenly thought as Thaddeus Dowling was in truth Arthur Young, an average British man living in Oxfordshire. His wife, Deidre Young, was supposed to give birth two weeks later, but their baby had other ideas in mind.
And so, the woman giving birth in room three was Mrs Young, while Harriet Dowling, wife to the American Ambassador and chosen adoptive mother for the Antichrist, was in room four, the father’s absence being explained by the fact that he had an important meeting with the President, though he asked for the entire birthing to be captured in video by his wife’s body guards so that he could look at it later.
There’s many tricks involving swapping cards that exist in the world, one of them using three cards that’s a bit hard to follow.
Tonight, in that Satanic Monastery of the Chattering Order of St Beryl, something similar was about to happen, though the stakes at hands were far more greater than any kind of game one would play in a Casino.
Sister Mary Loquacious was a newly ordained sister of said Satanic Order. Being quite low in the hierarchy, she had been send away to do some unimportant tasks after the meeting between all the sisters earlier in the evening. Thus, she had not seen Mrs Dowling’s face as she was led into room number 4 to give birth to her own golden-haired male baby.
That we will call Baby A.
Around the same moment, in room number 3, Mrs Young’s golden-haired male baby took in his first breath of fresh air, crying his little lungs out.
This one will be called Baby B.
As she was passing through the entrance, she was startled into a stop when a lanky, sauntering figures pushed the heavy wooden doors open, letting the artificial lights above them cascade over his darkly dressed figure dramatically.
Sister Mary Loquacious let out an amazed sound.
“Ma… Master Crowley!”
With a smirk, the demon extended her way the basket containing a third golden-haired male baby.
And this one will be known as the Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Prince of this World and Lord of Darkness.
With careful steps, the woman approached.
“Is that him?”
“It is.”
With one careful hand, she opened the basket lid, letting out a delighted coo at whatever she was seeing.
“It’s hard to believe that… I’d expect funny eyes, or a wittle tail.”
Taking advantage of his sunglasses, Crowley rolled his eyes at the ceiling, huffing a little.
“That’s definitively him.”
With a soft giggle, Sister Mary Loquacious took that basket in hands, “Fancy me, holding the Antichrist.” She breathed out in awe, and once again Crowley wondered why those humans seemed so willing to help putting into actions the destruction of the world, but he supposed that the answer would be forever beyond him.
“Something to brag about later, I bet. Take him to room number three.”
“Room three, got it.” She nodded, determination filling her eyes, “Tell me… Do you think that he’ll remember me when the time come?”
This time, the demon was unable to stop himself from letting out a derisive snort.
“Pray that he doesn’t.”
Three Golden-haired baby. Now it’s time to start the trick.
God took the cards in Her hands, cut here and there and started to move the pieces around.
“Sister Mary? Were you not supposed to bring the biscuits to the refectory?”
The nun burdened with the Most Important Task of the evening turned toward Sister Grace Voluble with wide eyes, almost shaking from excitement as she stopped the trolley on which was laid the little bed on which the Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Prince of this World and Lord of Darkness was resting.
“Master Crowley said to take the baby to room number three.”
Sister Grace grimaced – she had been away taking care of an important matter at the moment of arrival of both labouring women and thus had not seen in which room Mrs Dowling had been taken in – and shook her head
“The others still haven’t taken the baby out of her room, from what I heard. We’ll do the switch once the spare will be taken in for examination.”
Sister Mary nodded in understanding and started to chatter with the other nun. And just like their Order preached, Sister Grace chattered back while accompanying her to the care room.
Baby B was already inside in the arms of another nun – Sister Judy Palaverous - who examined him with the help of one of her colleagues. The two new-comers rolled the trolley containing the Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Prince of this World and Lord of Darkness next to the first one. Then, Sister Mary Loquacious scooped him into her arms to start his preparation.
Sister Grace, who didn’t like to stand by idly, decided to help the others while chattering mindlessly about this or that.
That was then that Sister Theresa Garrulous entered the room with a third trolley containing Baby A, followed by four more sisters that wanted to be there as well to witness the swap and assist in its completion.
Here’s the tricky part, keep an eye on the card that caught your interest and don’t let it out of your sight.
Sister Mary dropped a whole pack of diapers on the ground, spreading some around. Her chatters a bit broken by her quick excuses, she left her post in front of the Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Prince of this World and Lord of Darkness to take care of the mess. Another sister who she didn’t knew the name of – but who was called Sister Maria Verbose - stepped forward to take care of him in the meantime, moving him toward another part of the room to continue with the examination.
Sister Judy, who had just fastened a red birth bracelet around Baby B’s wrist, put him in the now empty space left by Sister Maria before turning her attention away to a question that Sister Katherine Prolix just asked her.
Sister Theresa saw the red bracelet on Baby B’s wrist and supposed that it was the Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Prince of this World and Lord of Darkness, thus taking Baby B into her arms and putting him into Baby A’s trolley, the later then given to Sister Grace as she passed by to dispose of as it was the spare.
Thinking she had been just given the baby of the second mother who had given birth on that day and she had just learned the existence of, the nun didn’t waste a second to deposit him on the now empty spot to where Baby B used to be, not knowing it was Baby A, fastening another red birth bracelet around his wrist, for it was the only colour the monastery had left in its drawers.
Sister Maria returned with who she thought was the Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Prince of this World and Lord of Darkness (which he was) only to realise that both trolley ready to return to room three and four were occupied, made the educated guess that the baby in her arms was Baby A and thus the spare one. To make sure no one got confused, she wrapped the Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Prince of this World and Lord of Darkness into the grey blanket left aside specifically for that purpose and deposited him onto a trolley waiting a bit on the side of the room.
Sister Theresa, who ended up caught into the flourish of movements and chattering in the room, found herself a bit confused about the disposition of the trolleys and instructed to take the one she thought was the Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Prince of this World and Lord of Darkness, but who was in truth Baby A back to room number four and Baby B to room number three.
God stopped Her wild movements of hands, laying the cards face hidden on the table and smirking down at the world. Would any of them realised the little that had been played on them?
She already knew the answer to that question, letting her focus drift a little toward her beloved demon, moments before the three babies were brought into the care room.
For some ineffable reasons, Crowley had waited a little while longer in the monastery hallway after handing the basket containing the Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Prince of this World and Lord of Darkness to some passing nun, shifting over and over on his feet in hopes it would help untie the knot of anxiety that had formed in his throat.
He noticed another nun crossing the hallway, pushing a trolley – Sister Theresa with Baby A that had just been taken away from his biological mother moment before – and some part of himself he always denied the existence of showed its little head and started to hiss into his mind ears.
It was the one which had first make its appearance as he ended up saving dozens of children from the endless rain falling upon their shoulders as they had been denied the same chance as Noah and his family; the one who made sure that Job’s children were fine despite the clear orders he had been given; the one who wept for all the first born killed during that horrible period in Egypt regardless of their origin when he couldn’t do so openly; the one who made him act against his theorical demonic nature and that could have put him in troubles how so many times across the centuries.
Before he realised what he was doing, Crowley had stopped the nun, half of his mind thinking about Luke Triton, so young and so bright and who would never get to reach adulthood before the world was going to end in eleven years, and he thought that child, no matter how spare he is, deserved to get a happy life, even if it’s a short one.
It wasn’t that much work, to use a small miracle on the unsuspecting woman, to influence her into making sure that everything would be done to find the child a proper home where he would be loved and cherish for as long as the world would still exist.
Only after making sure of that, and without ever laying his eyes either on any of the three babies that were soon going to be swapped around in the care room, he left the monastery behind and drove straight back to London.
His angel didn’t need to ask what happened when Crowley finally joined him in the apartment they now shared above the Bookshop, for he already knew. Gabriel had informed him about that two hours earlier when he had miracle himself in Tokyo to eat some sushi because he was feeling restless.
So he simply opened his arms and allowed Crowley to crash against his chest, breathing in the smell of fire and brimstone his other half naturally exalted before heading toward their bedroom.
The night was spent in hugging each other close, letting hands run gentle circles on each other bodies in hope of assuage the anxiety that had started to boil just beneath their skin, eventually deciding that they would need to discuss what to do when the morning would come, because they now had eleven years to prepare for the Coming End, and they had too much to lose to let it happen without doing anything to prevent it.
oOoOoOo
July the 6th 2013
Hershel allowed himself to let out a long sigh as the orphanage supervisor left their study to gather some documented that were currently printed in the adjacent room.
The previous had been mostly spent in discussing with Desmond about what he had been offered the previous day more in depth, eventually leading to the younger sibling calling the orphanage he had been told the boy had been transferred into to see if a potential meeting could happen.
The director had been delighted to receive his call and made immediate adjustments so that Hershel could come visit the following day, which was right now.
“Relax. I know that everyone involve in this procedure are quite adamant into getting him a forever home rather quickly-”
Unbeknownst to them as well to Crowley, the miracle used to make sure the spare baby would get a good home had been more potent than expected.
And from Where She watched, she cut one, two, three times the deck and shuffled the cards once more.
“- But they also make it blatantly obvious that they won’t pressure you either. I’m sure that they already have another potential candidate ready to be contacted the moment you turn them down.”
Hershel hummed under his breath, though his eyes seemed to be still lost in the air in front of him.
“Though I’m ready to bet I’m not wrong by stating that you are considering choosing to go for the adoption.”
The soft amused huff that escaped the younger archaeologist sounded also a bit exasperated.
“How is that possible for you to already know me that much when we’ve been reconnecting for barely much more than a year?”
“Sibling privilege I would say, though I think I remember you having that same look in your face when we we’re little and you were seriously considering doing something stupid.”
This time, Desmond’s comment elicited a more frank laugh out of Hershel, though it didn’t quite chase all the complicated emotions that were still dancing on his face.
“… You’re thought is right, though; I am thinking about accepting the proposition. It’s just…” he shrugged, looking down at his hands laying upon his laps, “I don’t think that I’m ready for something that huge, important and precious as such a small, delicate thing. I mean, this child is so new to the world, how would I know if what I’m doing is the right thing? I don’t want to mess up with this baby’s life, not when he would have better chances at life.”
It took a few moments before Desmond offered his answer.
“I won’t say that I’m all-knowing about the subject of parenting, but if you were to ask me or the Tritons if we felt ready to become parent when we did well… I’m pretty sure that their answer would be the same as mine, which is not at all.”
Hershel stared back at his older brother, the corners of his lips moving from the tension running under his skin.
Desmond continues, “Honestly, I don’t think that any parents in the world ever is prepared to become one. Some decide that certain period of life are better than others but at the end of the day, no one truly is. You can plan all that you want, read as many books as possible, study every theory that exist, all that is smashed into pieces the moment that little life is dropped into your arms. From that point onward, you just do the best you can.”
“Every situations are different, and that’s without taking into account those who become parents when they didn’t want to, because such scenarios bring forward other kind of issues.” Desmond’s voice was calm and gentle, very similar to when he used to give lectures to his students in the States. Hershel could see that his brother must have been quite the Professor and he wondered if the other didn’t miss his former job from time to time, “The most important thing to ask yourself is: do you want to become a parent and give that child everything that he might need until he can walk on his path of life on his own?”
Hershel swallowed the knot in his throat, hands kneading each other in his laps, “Honestly, I do want this. Take that child with me, I mean. But I can’t help myself wondering if I’ll be enough for him? Won’t my wounds and scars and trauma prevent me from being the one he might need?”
“Asking yourself about such things is, in fact, a very good thing.” Quickly answered the older brunette with a nod, “It means you’re aware of your own limitations and flaws that you have. It means that you’d be more able to see by yourself when what you’re doing is not right by your standards and thus you’d be able to correct your ways if that’s needed. However!”
Making sure he had Hershel focus entirely on him, Desmond dropped one hand upon his shoulder to force his eyes on him.
“That doesn’t mean that you need to be perfect all the time. If you choose to become the father of that child, you’ll reach your limits far more often than not, you’ll be anxious about his well-being, maybe you’ll overprotect him or you’ll be a bit to harsh. Maybe he’ll have needs you won’t know how to handle, and that is fine. As the saying goes, it takes a whole village to raise a child. You won’t be alone through the entire process: you’ll have your parents and your friends. You’ll have Mr fell and Mr Crowley as well. Heck, you’ll even have me to help you through it all. And if you need some time to unravel a bit, that is perfectly fine, healthy even, and you’ll always have someone by your side to help you through it all every step of the way.”
Turning his eyes to the ceiling to quickly blink the tears that threatened to escape him, Hershel leaned into the feeling of his brother’s hand upon his shoulder, basking into the comfort he hadn’t realised he had missed so much across the decades he had been separated to his sibling.
“Thank you, Des. I think I needed to hear that… That I’m not alone anymore.”
Desmond smiled gently back at him, “And I’ll make sure to remind you of this fact as often as it would be necessary.”
Shortly after that, the orphanage supervisor returned into the office, carrying a large stack of paper into their hands before dividing them into piles and starting to explain everything that Hershel might need to know to make his choice.
Desmond didn’t miss how his brother’s eyes had softened when handed a picture of said baby taken the previous day, nor was he surprised when Hershel asked to meet the boy before being told more about him.
He also knew that he would be called Uncle for the decades to come the moment the baby’s little first closed around Hershel’s finger when he finally got to see him for the first time, immediately asking if it would be fine to hold him for a little while, to the utter delight of the orphanage supervisor.
oOoOoOo
July the 9th 2013
Aziraphale walked into the corner of his bookshop that had become more the humans’ than his across the years with a trail of finger food in hands, “Where should I leave that one?”
“Right here, Mr Fell.” Said Angela from where she was disposing glasses on a table added here for the occasion, Clark walking behind her with bottles of fruit juice and wine in hands.
Above the window tucked into the nook we’re the beanbags had been reorganised for the rest of the afternoon, Brenda and Henry were trying to hang the banner Luke had taken upon himself to make – the words “Welcome to the family” sloppily written by small hands learning how to hold a pen surrounded by colourful doodles.
In a corner, Raymond was getting ready the camera that would captured Hershel's shocked face the moment he'll see what everyone had prepared for him.
Paul and Alphonse were still in his and Crowley’s kitchen, helping to wash the dishes today’s cooking had created while Mrs Layton worked on adding the finishing touches to the cake she had been merrily working on since the previous day.
Finally, Mr Layton was entertaining Luke with some children books the Tritons had took with them, making sure that little hands wouldn’t try to steal some food before the proper start of the little celebration.
“That should be the last of it.” Declared Crowley as he laid the last of the gifts all of the little group had managed to sneak into the bookshop without catching Hershel’s notice.
When the young archaeologist had announced on the night of the sixth that he was adopting a little baby boy and that he would officially take him home on the ninth, it took everyone by surprise. Had the followed the long explanation of his and Claire’s plans before the incident, and while surprised to have been chosen in the first place, he had eventually decided that he would do his best to make sure that the boy would grow up healthy and happy.
Even though he insisted that the orphanage would provide with all the basic necessities to care for the child, all of Hershel’s friends had secretly decided to organise that little party on the day the boy officially becoming his child. Desmond, of course, had been more than happy to help them all in their little scheme, and was currently doing his best to distract his brother to keep him away from the bookshop until they give the all clear signal.
“I’m ready to bet that Hershel will be equally happy and flustered from all this and will spend the first ten minutes of the party insisting that he shouldn’t have bothered with all this.” Continued the demon, and everyone in the room snorted loudly, for they all knew it to be true.
Aziraphale reached out for the demon to lay one kiss upon his cheek, just next to the snake tattoo that had been resting here since their first meeting all those millennia ago.
He felt how Crowley reached out for him with a comforting hand on the small of his back.
As much both of them were happy for Hershel, they couldn’t stop themselves from thinking this was so very much unfair. Just like Luke, the boy the archaeologist decided to adopt wouldn’t get to grow up beyond eleven, for the world would meet its End around that time.
And so, they had decided that in a few year time, they would start to work for the Dowlings and maybe, just maybe, they would manage to nudge the Antichrist education just so he fell into the middle ground and decide not to destroy the world.
It wasn’t the best plan they had ever created, but it was a start, and they hope that the coming years would bring with them new possibilities to prevent the Prophetised End of the World.
“Please stand back everyone, coming through with the cake!”
Mrs Layton’s voice brought the pair out of their silent worries, and they watched as the woman marched forward with a two layers cake skilfully decorated with marzipan and icing that could put to shame a bakery or two in the neighbourhood in Aziraphale’s opinion.
But then again, he heard that Mrs Layton had worked as chef patissière in some renowned restaurant in her younger years.
“It is beautiful, Mrs Layton.” Gasped in awe Angela, as she adjusted the tablecloth around the plate, “You really outdid yourself.”
“Thank you dear,” smiled the woman before looking around the room, “And I can return you all the compliment, for you did a great work with the decoration. Special commendation to the banner;” she added with a lopsided smile.
“Thank you, Mrs Layton!” exclaimed joyfully Luke as he and Mr Layton joined back the group, “Mom spelled me the letters, but I did it all myself!”
“You can be proud of yourself, kiddo.” Smiled Paul, who had returned from the kitchen as well with Alphonse, while ruffling the boy’s hair, earning him a protesting cry in return.
“And may I say that we’ve managed to pull it out together just in time, for Desmond just texted me that he, Hershel and the boy are on their way to the bookshop.”
Excitation started to fill the atmosphere was everyone make sure that everything was perfect, all eagerly waiting for the sound of the bookshop doors opening.
Less than ten minutes later, the little bell jingled, followed by the sound of Hershel’s voice.
“-et in the bookshop?”
“Well, you must admit it is bigger than your living room. It makes it easier for everyone to gather in one place to greet the little one.”
“Still, I can’t help but think that something sounds fishy here,” Hershel and Desmond’s voices were slowly growing louder as they approached, and everyone stood ready to greet the new father, “Makes me almost think that you are all-”
His words died on his lips as both brothers crossed the aisle hiding the corner from their view, as everyone not quite yelled as once “Surprise!” while throwing confetti in their direction.
Even Desmond, who had a little pouch hidden in his pocket until now, was tossing some on his brother’s face as he stared back at them all with an open jaw, though his grip upon the carrying basket in his hand never faltered.
“What- You…” he turned his eyes on his brother before mock-accusing him, “You knew and your purposefully led me around for the last hour!”
Desmond answered with a wide smile, “Well, it wouldn’t have been a surprise if you have heard of it, wouldn’t it?”
His eyes starting to shine with tears, Hershel looked back at his friends and family and was unable to hide the emotion colouring his voice.
“Thank you, everyone… Though you shouldn’t have-”
Crowley, Brenda, Paul and Henry snorted at the same time while giving each other high fives, though it didn’t take long for Hershel to realise why and, like the mature adult he was, he stuck out his tongue back at them for the fun of it.
Mr and Mrs Layton had stepped forward to quickly hug their son.
“We’re so happy for you…” smiled Lucille, gently stroking his cheek while Rolland took the carrier out of his hand to lay it upon the bare table that had been put there exactly for that one purpose.
“Thank you, Ma…” he murmured back before taking off his bag from his shoulder to take out a file, “But I guess that there’s one last thing all of you need to know…”
Taking out a sheet of paper out of it, he extended it to his mother, who took it with both hand with all the care in the world.
Rolland, who had taken the most adorable baby out of the carrier and was now gently holding him in his arms, stepped next to her and read above her shoulder.
Both smiled warmly at each other before giving the baby a kiss on each cheek.
While the way Everything came to be Here are quite specific, the truth is that no matter where the child ended up, the name always stays the same. May he become a Young, a Dowling, an abandoned orphan with no name or being adopted by a family never heard of before in the Story, it is the only ineffable, unchanging thing. A name that he would carry no matter what.
“Welcome to the family, Adam Layton.”
The Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Prince of this World and Lord of Darkness, but from now on known as Adam Layton, cooed at the rumbling sensation of his Grand Pa voice against his tiny body, small limbs shifting around uncoordinatedly.
Looking down at the scene, God smiled to Herself and finally put away her deck of cards and decided it was good.
End of Part III