soldier, poet, king (a good omens fanfic)

05 - Didn't give me time to say goodbye in the way that I wanted to

Crowley was speeding down the road so fast he was surprised the road wasn't on fire behind him.

The streets were oddly empty for Soho at this time of day, but that might have had something to do with the raging storm that was just starting to die down. He was pretty sure that thunder and lightening and rain were all signs of the apocalypse, but he didn't need all that to let him know everything had gone to shit. For one, he had just killed a demon with holy water he wasn't suppose to have, and then trapped another one in his phone line. Second, he could feel that ... something had happened. Something big. Not necessarily the apocalypse *, but something still has monumental.

* In 'sixth sense' terms, Armageddon mostly felt like something whispering 'oh no!' while progressively getting louder and louder until it was shouting in your face while accompanied by fire and raining fish. This one felt like something that had been there before just wasn't anymore.

Crowley didn't like it. It almost made him as uneasy as everything else was already making him feel, and he didn't need that anymore stress right now.

He hooked a corner, not even bothering with the stop sign he usually would have obeyed to humour Aziraphale, and nearly skidded onto the sidewalk before the Bentley rightened itself. * Crowley, of course, was mostly worried about the angel, since on their phone call he had seemed to be trying to say something about contacting someone, and had managed to figure out where everything was suppose to go down — aka, where the Four Horsemen were converging. How he and figured it out, he didn't know, but it was probably from Agnus Nutters book. There had been one prophecy that had been stumping them since last night, so the angel probably figured it out that morning sometimes. Of course he had. He was great at the that 'reading between the lines' stuff.

* The Bentley was used to its owner driving style by the now, so it was pretty good at not crashing into things.

Adam was also had the forefront of his mind, and he wondered how the boy was doing in Tadfield. Mostly, if he okay and not coming into his power as the Antichrist and deciding to go all 'I am your Lord and you will obey me'. The fact that he didn't know, and couldn't go and check on him, was infuriating, but he took a deep breath through his nose like an angry bull and reminded himself that as soon as he got Aziraphale, they would go to Tadfield, get Adam, and face it all. As a family.

Unfortunately, that thought slammed to a halt as soon as he turned down the street towards the bookshop.

Because instead of a bookshop and an angel, there were firemen and a large, raging fire.

It was a like a bucket of cold water was dumped over him *, and he hit the brakes of the Bentley so hard that the tires squealed against the road. Before it had even came to a stop in front of the bookshop, however, he shoved open the door and tumbled out, just narrowly avoiding falling ungracefully onto his face. He knew something was going to go wrong, he fucking knew it. The angels must have come for Aziraphale, or something as equally as terrible, but before he knew it he was running across the sidewalk towards the flaming bookshop as panic nearly blinded him expect for the thought of find Aziraphale find Aziraphale find Aziraphale —

* Ironic, given the, er, fire.

He pushed past a fireman who stepped forward and tried to ask him something, but Crowley couldn't be bothered to try and explain why he was running into a burning building to some human. A different fireman tried to grab him as well, but he only succeeded in brushing his jacket before he rushed by. None of them followed, either due to common sense or maybe a small bit of magic, but whatever the reason, Crowley reached the door in record time and it opened with a snap of his fingers.