It's Ineffable, Darling [AU]

5: Broken Like Me

Aziraphale

Books were safe.

They were quiet, they were soothing, they were interesting, they held facts and information. Most importantly, books didn't judge you when you read them- or were even in their presence.

In Aziraphale's opinion, they were one of the greatest human inventions.

Aziraphale had found Heaven was never quite right for him, though the thought was blasphemous, coming from an angel. It wasn't Her or Her creations. On the contrary, he loved being an angel and spreading good for the humans on Earth. What he didn't love, however, was the other angels. Since before and after The Fall, he had never met an angel he could call a friend. He'd tried to befriend humans at some point, but found that they died off too easily and much too soon. The didn't even last the century anymore.

So atlas, the bookish angel was left alone both on Earth and in Heaven.

But surely he had to be the problem.

Yes. For Aziraphale had come to that conclusion a long time ago. If he was the one, singular, angel whom didn't fit in with anyone else, he had to be the problem. Especially when all of the other angels got along nicely with one another. In perfect harmony.

They sang, joked kindly, conversed with one another. Surely they didn't give each other looks of utter disgust right to their face and behind their back too. Surely, they didn't pluck out each other's wings when they passed by. Surely they didn't mock each other's corporation. Surely they didn't mock each other when they were talking about things that made them excited and passionate. Surely they didn't laugh behind their backs- or to their faces, when they were feeling particularly cruel. Surely they didn't only ever act pleasant when they needed something. Surely.

Surely he was broken.

Surely he was the problem.

Surely he was the damaged one.

He thought back to the holy sword that was abandoned a few feet away from him. He should be outside, and fighting, using the holy sword in his hands to kill demons. Not have a chat with one.

However, Aziraphale couldn't find it in himself to hurt someone else, even a demon. Especially someone fighting for their own survival. Perhaps it was yet another thing there was wrong with him, yet another thing that contributed to the poor treatment he faced by the hands of his fellow angels. Poor treatment by his fellow angels seemed odd, they were the good ones, weren't they? Demons were the bad ones. Demons were supoosed to be below angels, they were supposed to be perfectly nasty.

So it was odd that he found himself in pleasant conversation with one.

That he found one comforting him.

Speaking of, this demon spoke again, this time rapidly. "It's not fair of the Alrighty to ask you to find a way to stop the Armageddon. Full offense, but you're just one angel. And isn't it Her plan? If she really wanted her precious humans to survive... then perhaps she should've given you more direct instructions than 'protect the humans'. Either way, I heard that even Heaven wanted this war. So really, it seems that no matter what you did, you were going to fail and end up here anyway. Probably." The demon finished awkwardly.

The angel was speechless. He opened his mouth but words simply wouldn't reach his lips. Was this a trick? Yes, he supposed what the demon said was partly true. A tad reassuring to hear, even. But why? How did this benefit him? Did it benefit him-? Ofcourse it did. Somehow. His mind rambled on as he collected his thoughts. Because why would he be trying go comfort him if it didn't? Aziraphale refused to believe that there were no strings attached to his words. Nobody had ever tried to make the angel feel better 'just because' or for him. For Heaven's sake, nobody had even shown basic decency unless they could gain something from it.