Work Text:
Fade in :
The word "War" appears in yellow Gothic lettering, accompanied by a piercing, shrill score. The word retreats into the background to reveal a title: "War in Heaven."
As we look around, the scenery is laid out before us: fragments of cockpits, shattered staircaseseverything appears demolished. And yet, this was once the center of the universe, where one could glimpse every galaxy ever created. This is where the war took place. It pitted angel against angel. The rebels finally fell—including Crowley and many others, like Satan himself.
We reach the summit: a circle of water surrounded by fire. This place looks important, doesn't it? An ex-angel lies bruised and broken on the stairs. He seems destroyed; his wings are darkening, no longer resembling the angel he once was.
The camera zooms in on another angel: Our dear Aziraphale. He looks nothing like the version we know. His hair is slightly curly but very long. He wears a uniform that Earth would never wish to see—save for the tartan he drapes over one side like a toga, layered over beige military attire. He carefully keeps his flaming sword in its scabbard—the one that will eventually serve Adam, but we mustn't tell him that; he does not yet possess the mercy that humans will one day have. For now, they have won the war. And that is all Michael wants to hear.
She tapped Aziraphale gently on the shoulder to bring him back to reality. He was surely reminiscing about the war and the feats he would come to regret much later. Exhaling deeply, he felt the full weight of the conflict pressing down on his body. A hollow pit had formed in his stomach during the battle—and not for lack of food, as it simply did not exist yet; no such term as "Scrumptious" could possibly have been conceived.
The angel was taken aback; he offered a faint smile, his back turned to the Archangels, and took up the mantle once more, searching for something interesting—and not entirely foolish—to say.
Aziraphale
I can’t believe it’s over.
Michael nodded, closing her eyes, accompanied by Uriel, who remained perfectly detached from whatever Aziraphale was thinking—maintaining a state of total neutrality.
Michael
And over in a glorious victory Aziraphale. She nodded again. Quite outstanding.
Aziraphale
He almost turned around to face them. Yes, I suppose so.
Michael
At a cost, of course. She began to walk straight ahead, heading toward the sort of water fountain. How many did we lose in the last offensive ?
Uriel
She followed, with Aziraphale following suit. About a hundred, I’m afraid. They took us by surprise.
Aziraphale
The whole thing was ghastly. Sighing softly
Uriel
Aziraphale was inspiring and a remarkable strategist. She stopped walking and turned to Aziraphale, looking him straight in the eye.
Aziraphale
Aziraphale averted his eyes, letting his gaze wander from the ground to the sky, before speaking in a quiet voice. Just doing my job.
Michael
The battle fought here, His hands rose in acknowledgment and emphasis, before he turned back toward them, at the center of all creation, turned the tide. They tried to gain control of the Eternal Flame, and they lost ! Better tell the troops the good news, eh ? She returned to the spot where she had materialized, grazing General Aziraphale’s shoulder as she passed, Uriel following close behind.
To the sound of dramatic music , Aziraphale stepped gently toward the circle of water and eternal flame, ascending the short flight of stairs. Then, turning around, he contemplated the beauty of the universe—expanding nebulae and billions of galaxies as far as the eye could see. And then, he drew his sword from its scabbard, one hand gripping the hilt and the other holding the scabbard. The blade flared into life, then extinguished.
Then, an « angel » took him by surprise, pointing a weapon at Aziraphale's back. He grabbed him by the shoulder and whispered violently into his ear.
Crowley
You will be a dead angel. Do you understand ?
Aziraphale nodded
Crowley
Give me the sword,
Aziraphale turned around to face him; Crowley placed the tip of the sword against Aziraphale's jugular, and threw the pebble he was holding in his hand to scare the general.
Aziraphale
So you didn’t actually have a weapon, then, when you were threatening me ?
Crowley
No. I lost it in the last battle.
Aziraphale
He smirked. Hello. I’m--
Crowley
General Azirapale, I know who you are. I saw you on the battlefield. I have a lot of questions, and nobody ever has the answers. He’s groaning right now, during the battle, he was hurt by another angel.
Aziraphale
What’s wrong ?
Crowley fell to the ground, hitting his back; he tensed up, and Aziraphale followed him down, trying to understand what was wrong. He held his back and pressed his hand against his stomach to support him. Crowley threw his head back, suffering from the injury, pressing his hand against his thigh in pain. The angel Aziraphale saw this and looked at his distress: a large gash was appearing on his thigh. Out of kindness, the General detached one of the pieces of fabric from the forearms of his jacket and tied it tightly all around to create a bandage.
Aziraphale
It may hart, but… it’ll help to staunch the wound a little.
A groan of pain escaped Crowley's lips.
Aziraphale
You know, I’ve spent the War smiting Angels, I’ve never done this before.
Crowley
Sould I say thank you ?
Aziraphale
Better not. He smiled a little as he looked at him, then glanced around to see if anyone was watching them.
Thanking him, Crowley handed him back his sword; Aziraphale recoiled in fear. But he gently took the sword back, trying to trust the future demon. Crowley breathed heavily, watching Aziraphale stand up.
Crowley
Thank you for the bandage.
Aziraphale
Probably best if you don’t, er… Don’t tell anyone how you got it. Then, he glanced around again. Good luck.
CREDIT SCENE