#scared Aziraphale | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aethelflaedladyofmercia · 2 years ago

Text

Countdown

Everyday, season 2 is getting closer! And now there's only 26 left to go! As part of the @gomenseveryday Countdown Event, I've written this little fic about Aziraphale meeting a certain Starmaker during the countdown to Creation! Read it below or follow the link to AO3!

10…

9…

8…

Aziraphale clutched the rail with both hands, looking out over… Everything. Nothing. The infinite potential of Creation waiting to happen, spread out before him like a vast, empty void.

7…

6…

5…

“Are… are we sure this is a good idea?” he asked the Guardian next to him.

The other angel looked confused and annoyed. “A good what? It’s an order. We obey.” They turned back to watch the numbers tick down, wings lifted and ready.

4…

3…

Aziraphale tried to copy their stance, but he couldn’t quite manage it. His palms were sweating, his legs shaking, his stomach doing something altogether unpleasant. He shouldn’t do this, he should be safely back behind his desk working on reports and browsing plant life files for interesting sketches, not standing here with proper Guardians—

2…

1…

Oh, dear.

The last number ticked away and the ground below his feet vanished.

Ten pairs of wings snapped wide, catching not the wind but the intangible currents of aether. They released the bars they held, and for the first time the line of Guardians flew.

Or, in Aziraphale’s case, fell.

“No, no, nononono!” He struggled, wings pumping up and down, arms and legs scrambling for any form of support. But there was none, only an eternal drop into ever more nothingness, falling and falling while the universe was Created around him, then destroyed, then Created anew—

“Got you.”

A jolt ran through his body and Aziraphale found himself dangling, one wrist caught in the grip of a strange angel who floated above him.

“Put me down, put me down!” He wriggled frantically, grabbing the other angel’s arm to try and pull himself up.

“Whoa—hey—no—there is no down. Just cool it and spread your wings.”

“They are spread!”

“No—look at me. Like this.” Looking up, Aziraphale could see the other angel. Not a Guardian, something less solid and far more beautiful. Their wings stretched out, long and graceful, not to mention perfectly steady. Light blue at the coverts, shading darker down the flight feathers until they were nearly black, with hints of iridescence, like captured stars and rainbows. The body held between them was long and graceful, head covered in deep red curls, wearing a smile of slightly strained patience. “This joint is open,” the angel explained, wings flexing at the joint closest to their body. “This joint you need to relax.” This time they flexed the farther joint in the middle of the wings. “I’ll help you get into a gliding position. But first—big and wide.”

Aziraphale’s eyes drifted past the angel towards the platform, so far away that it was almost lost in the darkness. More angels had launched while he fell—vague flitting shapes against the deep black—and another line was getting into position. The numbers were just a speck of light, shifting as they counted down—

“Oi. I’m over here.” The angel’s brow was furrowed and their smile had grown more strained, the way Gabriel’s did right before he reminded Aziraphale that he was an idiotic dreamer and a useless Guardian. But this angel just held his gaze and spoke slowly. “There’s a million of them up there. We’ve got loads of time, and nothing up here that can harm you. Now come on. Three… two… one… go!”

He tried—he really did—stretching his wings as far as he could. It didn’t quite hurt, but it tugged at him, feeling wrong somehow.

The other angel grinned broadly, white teeth flashing in the dark. “Good! Right. Now pull up the rest of your body. No dangling.”

“I–I can’t,” Aziraphale moaned, kicking his legs feebly. “I’m too heavy.”

“No you aren’t. You’re an angel. You just… float. Now come on. Belly tucked, butt up, legs together… Stretch your arm forward, that can help…”

Slowly, Aziraphale felt his body come into a sort of alignment, his wings settling more easily along his back. It was still awkward—especially with his wrist in the other angel’s grip—but not so much as before. He could almost start to relax.

Until the other angel said, “Alright. Now I’m going to let go—”

“No!” Aziraphale flailed, wings swinging awkwardly. “I’ll fall!”

“You won’t fall. You can’t. You’re an angel. Physics doesn’t even keep you up, not really. It’s mostly faith and shit. If you believe you won’t fall, then you can’t.”

“But I already did fall!”

A heavy sigh, the other angel’s frustration coming through. “Where’d they even dig up an angel like you?”

“Administrative Sector D,” Aziraphale said, trying not to pout at the thought of his lovely desk. “Fourth Class Guardian. Gabriel was most impressed by my last report, so he sent me here.”

“Sent you, huh? Without even asking?”

Why would he ask? “It was a reward,” Aziraphale explained primly. “Quite the honor to be able to observe, you know. To witness.”

“Well, it’s no place for beginners. Reality is a lot more complicated than paperwork.”

“I know that! I…” He hesitated. “Well, I—I’ve been looking over the files. The plans for Creation. It was all so very interesting, and I want to see… all of it. Everything. I just thought…”

“Thought you’d be on the ground.” This time the other angel’s sigh wasn’t nearly so frustrated. “Well, you’re not going to get to witness anything from down here.”

“I suppose not.”

The angel glanced up and all around, though what they might be looking for, Aziraphale couldn’t imagine. “Alright. Look. I can’t keep towing you around like this. My shoulder’s going to pop. I’m gonna let go, then get a better grip. It’ll take less than five seconds. You can count if you like.”

Aziraphale shuddered. Five seconds seemed an awfully long time. “And then?”

“And then we’ll fly together. Easy. Are you ready?”

“No.”

“Right. And… go!”

The grip on his wrist vanished, and there was nothing but empty darkness, Aziraphale suspended in the middle of it. “Five… four…” The weight of Creation pressed against him. “Threetwoonezero!”

An arm slipped around his waist and Aziraphale twisted, grabbing the other angel. “Good. I got you. I got you! Calm—! Fold your wing—no your other wing, the one that keeps hitting me! Square your shoulders! Stop trying to roll over, you need—there!”

Somehow, they both got into the desired position, each with one wing pressed to the other’s back, the other held out straight. Arms about each other’s waist, Aziraphale holding on with a death grip.

“Oh, this isn’t going to work,” he moaned. “We’re going to fall—”

“No, shush.” The other angel patted his side. “We can’t fall so long as you believe we won’t.”

“But—” Aziraphale glanced at their wings, one white and a little ragged, the other blue and graceful. “Is this even possible? Two angels together?”

“Course it is.” The other angel tossed their head, almost flippantly. “We still got two wings, right? Catching all the aether? S’all we need. That’s just physics.”

Aziraphale considered this. “Are–are you quite certain?”

“Yes! Trust me. I’m a Starmaker. We know physics.”

Well. They certainly sounded confident enough. Aziraphale didn’t know the first thing about physics, apart from the bit where heavy objects went down. But flying had to work somehow, and this principle seemed as convincing as any. And they hadn’t fallen yet.

“I… I suppose… but you won’t let go?”

“Nope. Promise.” They gently squeezed him with the arm about his waist and flashed another of those broad grins. It made Aziraphale feel all shivery inside, though this time in a good way. “Now let’s get you a good spot to watch from. You’ll have to move your wing. I’ll tell you what to do, you just follow my lead.”

It was a bit rough, their path rather tippy and bumpy, but the two angels managed a wide, slow circle as they climbed back up to join the rest. A few times along the way, Aziraphale felt his whole body sort of… fall into place, and for a moment it felt completely natural. But then something would happen to throw him off, and he’d clutch at the other angel more tightly. He worried they’d get annoyed and leave, but the angel just smiled and told him what to try next.

Eventually, he noticed the crowd of waiting angels was below them, and rapidly getting smaller. “Wait! Where are you taking me?”

“Up,” said the other, as if it were obvious. “Told you, we’re getting a good view, right?”

He couldn’t make out any individual faces, but he could see the group he’d been put with, off to the side of the larger crowd. “But… surely the Archangels chose the best viewing spot for our gathering place? Which would mean down there, with the others?”

“Pffft. Please.” The angel guided them higher. “Told you, I’m a Starmaker. We’ve been at this for eons while you’ve been filing your reports. I know all the best spots.” A nudge and a smile. “What do you say? Want a little behind-the-scenes tour?”

Not really. Aziraphale had already seen and experienced more than enough novelties to last him quite a while. He’d much rather be back at his desk reviewing the file on hot beverage flavors, which always got his imagination splendidly stimulated.

But then again… He liked being close to this other angel. It felt safe and warm, comfortable in a very different way from the comfort and safety of his office. And he really did want an opportunity to see things, not simply read reports on them.

Anyway, he reasoned, he had to keep his hold on the other angel, which meant that if they wanted to take a tour of the cosmos, he was rather helpless to do anything but go along.

“Well,” he answered cautiously. “If you haven’t anything better you’re supposed to be doing…”

“Nope. Nowhere I’d rather be. Check this out!”

They continued to climb, until there was nothing in sight but the dark, empty nothingness, utterly still and silent except for a strange pulse, like a heartbeat.

“That’s the countdown,” the angel explained. “The real countdown.”

“Oh, I… where is it?”

“Everywhere. You don��t see it, you just feel it.” They tapped the middle of Aziraphale’s chest, where a soft pressure was mounting. “Right in here.”

“How lovely.” Aziraphale glanced around, wishing for some kind of clue. “Not long, then?”

“Oh, no. Nearly there. That’s my bit, over there.” The angel pointed towards a patch of darkness indistinguishable from the rest. “It’s gonna be great.”

“That sounds… and you really don’t mind? Me being here while you watch?”

“Why would I mind?” The angel tossed their red curls. “Besides. S’better with a friend. Oh, here it comes! Ten… nine… eight…”

With a friend. The words filled Aziraphale with another flood of warmth, far better than any imagined hot beverage. He’d never been called someone’s friend before.

“Seven… six… five…”

He pulled the other angel securely against his side and made sure his wing rested comfortably on the fellow’s back. That earned him another grin and a flash of starry eyes.

“Four… three…”

He sighed, rather happier than he’d felt in a long time, and joined in the final countdown.

“Two…”

“One…”

The universe pulsed one last time.

“Zero!”

The whole of Creation echoed, Let there be light.

And it was good.

#good omens #gomenseveryday #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #crowley #good omens prime #aziraphale and crowley #good omens fanfiction #my writing #pre canon #angel crowley #flying #protective crowley #scared aziraphale

63 notes · View notes