Okay okay, here we go. I struggled a bit with the second half of this because I have a general outline for this fic in mind and bits of scenes prewritten but couldn't quite decide what order to put some of them in, so I kinda went back and forth a bit before settling on this.
But anyway, got some uni presentations out of the way and finally found the time to finish it up!
~oOo~oOo~oOo~
His steps echo too loudly on the shiny white floors.
The halls are empty, silent brightness all around, safe for the sound of his shoes clacking on the mirror surface of glossy tiles as he hurries down the hallway.
Aziraphale throws a glance over his shoulder, making sure no one is following him.
The book in his arms is heavy, a fitting design for the metaphorical weight it carries.
The file room is blissfully deserted when he enters, there is something to be said about being Supreme Archangel after all, even when none of the other Archangels seem to recognise his authority.
He looks around, paranoid despite knowing all the scriveners working here will be at the meeting he scheduled personally for this exact time frame. He would have liked to simply give them a day off, God knows those poor dears in the lower ranks do enough senseless work without sitting through a meaningless lecture about a new (even more complicated) filing system, but that would have been too suspicious.
He rolls his shoulders in discomfort. His wings have always had a tendency to get itchy when he's nervous or stressed. Or scared.
He doesn't have much time.
Aziraphale sighs, sets the book down on a glass table and opens the lowest drawer on the right.
It's there, just as he knew it would be. Still, he can't help but breathe out in relief.
The file looks bland and insignificant, just like every other in the countless cabinets of Heaven's historic archive. It looks just the way Aziraphale wanted it to when he created it. He doesn't want it to stand out, even though he knows it's the only one of its kind, locked with the highest rank of security there could possibly be. Even he won't be able to open it again once it's been sealed.
He puts the file on the table next to the book, takes a deep breath.
His plan is easy. Put the book and the plans into the file, hide it between the others, make his way to the elevator before someone notices, get the hell out of Heaven - so to speak.
Get back to Crowley.
Crowley.
Aziraphale opens the book, needs to check and see one more time that he's still there. He flicks to the section for C, skims the list of names until-
There.
Crowley, demon, Serpent of Eden and Original Tempter, fallen during the Great War, formerly known as the Starmaker-
It's there. It's still there. Everything is fine.
Aziraphale breathes.
"It's that demon", he can still hear Michael's hissed whisper. "He'll never be ours as long as that snake has his claws in him."
"I thought separating them would be enough", the Metatron had said in a hushed voice, barely loud enough for Aziraphale to hear where he'd been listening in from behind a white marble pillar. "Who knows the damage they could do together, they mustn't be united, the consequences could be disastrous."
"But he's still hung up on that pathetic little planet." Michael rolled her eyes. "He's gone native, can you believe it. He'll never do what we want as long as that demon runs free down there."
YOU ARE READING
Take These Broken Wings And Learn To Fly
Fanfiction"Why are you doing this?" Aziraphale's voice is faint, his breathing uneven. Crowley doesn't lift his eyes to see the sickly look on his face, the twist of pain where only joyous smiles should ever be. "Bandages need changing", he mumbles, eyes fixe...
