Ineffable Interludes: Good Omens

HE PROTECC pt 2

Mr. James drew himself up. "It was for his own good. Paul's feelings are an abomination against God. He'll go to hell if he doesn't stop this homosexual nonsense!"

Contrary to some beliefs, Hell didn't care about sexual orientation. Lucifer had never, ever said he hated gays; neither had God, for that matter. Whatever the assholes on Earth said, nobody went to Hell for being gay. 

Crowley whipped his wings out, so massive that they filled the foyer, and used them to pin the other man against the wall.

"You listen to me," he snarled, his forked tongue flickering."Queer people have been persecuted, and tortured, and murdered throughout history, by people like you, and I'm not letting it happen to Paul. He's your son, a kind, generous young man who helps people, and who you are supposed to love and protect. He's too kind to stand up for himself, but I'm not, and I'm a lot more dangerous than him. You're going to call him, and tell him you're sorry, andthat you were wrong. And if you do anything to make him unhappy, ever again, I will find you, and I will cut your cowardly little cock off. And if you hurt him..."

Grinning, he conjured a ball of hellfire and let it swirl across his fingers. "I will shove this down your throat, send you to where I come from, and let them pass you around like a party favor. Do you understand?"

"I-I-I-"

"Say it." Crowley removed his glasses. His reptilian eyes shone with anger. "Say you understand."

"I understand!"

"Good." Crowley released him; Mr. James slid to the floor and huddled there, whimpering. "I look forward to your apology."

He stalked over to the door, stopped, and turned around. "On second thought..." He slammed the hellfire into the wall centimeters from the man's head. "Good luck fixing that."

Aziraphale had just gotten Paul calmed down when Crowley came crashing back into the shop, still fuming.

"What did you do?" Aziraphale asked warily.

"Nothing bad," Crowley promised. "I just scared him. Don't worry, Paul, he won't be hurting you again."

Aziraphale stood up. "Crowley, darling, can I have a word with you? In private?"

"Sure, angel."

They went upstairs to their room, where Aziraphale proceeded to lose his temper in a harsh whisper, so Paul couldn't hear. "Why doyou smell like hellfire?"

"I didn't burn him," Crowley said quickly. "I showed it to him, and I blasted a tiny hole in his wall."

"And what else did you do?"

"Pinned him against the wall--"

"You said you wouldn't lay a finger on him!"

"Don't worry, I used my wings."

"You showed him your wings?!" Aziraphale screeched.

"Shh!" Crowley hissed. "Nobody's going to believe him, it'll be fine!"

Aziraphale buried his face in his hands. "Good God. What else did you do?"

"I... may have flashed my eyes." It was starting to occur to Crowley that perhaps he had acted rashly. "I also told him that if he hurt Paul, I'd cut his cock off."

"Oh, my God!" Aziraphale moaned. "Crowley! What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that that young man just had his life desssstroyed, and that he needed someone to sssstand up for him!"Crowley said, hissing in agitation.

"Okay," Aziraphale relented. "But you stay here while I talk to Paul about what just happened."

"Aw, come on, angel,," Crowley whined. "I'm not a kid, you don't need to put me in a time-out!"

"Stay," Aziraphale ordered, and stalked out. He snapped his fingers and a shimmering force field appeared over the doorway. "And don't bother jumping out the window, either."

Downstairs, Paul was on the phone. "I didn't send him, Dad, I swear. Come on, Dad, wings?...wait, really? Okay, see you soon."

He tossed his phone on the coffee table as Aziraphale came down the stairs. "That was my dad. He said he's sorry."

Aziraphale tried to sound surprised. "That's wonderful."

"He said I can come visit in a few days, just give him time to cool down," Paul said. "We can talk things out, and he'll try . It's more than I ever hoped for. Where's Mr. Crowley? I wanted to thank him for—whatever he did."

"He scared the living daylights out of your father, I'm afraid," Aziraphale told him, sitting down on the opposite couch.

"My dad said he had wings, black wings." Paul hesitated, his hazel eyes boring into Aziraphale's blue ones. "Normally, I wouldn't believe him. But I saw his wings that night at the club, and I've seen you do things that can't be explained."

"I can't tell you. For your own safety."

"Please."

Aziraphale sighed. There was something about this young man that made the angel trust him. He couldn't explain it, but he decided that it must be part of God's plan. "Paul," he said carefully, "if I tell you, you can't tell anyone. It could get you killed, or get us killed. I need your word. Swear on your life."

"After all you've done," Paul said, "it's the least I can do.I swear. Please tell me, Mr. Fell."

"All right." Aziraphale snapped his fingers, removing the ward on the bedroom door. "We'll show you together."

Crowley clattered down the stairs. "Is my time-out over?"

"Yes, it is," Aziraphale said primly. "Paul wants to know what we are, and I'm going to tell him."

"Wow." Crowley let out a low whistle. "Okay. Feather time?"

"Feather time," Aziraphale confirmed. He went to Crowley and took his hand. "Ready?"

"Ready."

Together, they unfurled their wings. Black feathers brushed against white, both glimmering in the lamplight.

Paul teared up.

"Oh, no, no, no, sweetheart." Aziraphale quickly pulled in his wings. "I'm sorry, we didn't mean to frighten you!"

"No, I'm not scared." Paul sniffled. "Everything makes sense now. It's all true. You're our Guardian Angel. You're here to protect us."

"Well, I protect humanity in general," Aziraphale told him. "Notyou in particular."

"That's okay." Paul gave a watery smile. Suddenly he frowned as he looked at Crowley. "You're different."

Crowley visibly wilted; even his wings drooped. "Yes, I'm different."

"So what are you?"

Paul had no way of knowing that he'd just broken Crowley's heart—the demon had thought, for a moment, that someone accepted him just the way he was, only to have that hope dashed. But Aziraphale realized it, and hastened to reassure him.

"He's the man I love," he said firmly, taking the demons hand."He's Crowley. He's the person who protected you. That's who he is."

Crowley beamed at him.

For a painfully long moment, Paul didn't say anything. Then he stood up and hugged them both. "Thank you. Thank you."

They hugged him back with arms and wings, and stood there until there were no more tears.

1. If I missed something or was accidentally insensitive, please let me know, and tell me how I can change it.

2. If you feel unsafe, whether in your friends, romantic relationships, or in your home life, do what Paul did: get help. Talk to someone you trust, go to a shelter, go to the police. You are worthy of love and safety.