My Dearest Warlock

Poem of Death

~

Crowley had never really thought about what it would be like to have kids. It had never occurred to the demon that he would live long enough to even have the chance to raise on, much less even have resources to properly raise a child. It was a thing that, previously, Crowley dreaded thinking about.

The idea that he, a former angel, could hold an infant and give love... it was disturbing. It was almost impure in every sense, and the idea had appalled Crowley. Simply touching an infant would be enough to imprint and taint them, and Crowley couldn't bare damning a mere infant. Knowing that this power rested in his hands made Crowley feel... ill. Wrong was the power that rested in the hands of a rogue demon.

But now, now... everything was different. Everything was so much brighter, like a bright light in the middle of the never ending darkness. It wasn't to say that Crowley didn't flinch at the mass amounts of churchgoers that screamed 'God doesn't love you,' but it was saying that Crowley had started loving himself more. He'd come to terms with that fact that he had been thrown out by God but loved by an angel and their child.

Their child. Their son. The idea of them... it was so beautiful. It was filled with twists and turns, but it was romantic. It was passionate in a way that only a pining demon could understand- and an angel, but Crowley didn't know this. It just wasn't meant to happen, and it did, making it worth so much more. It was a family of free fate and choice, of a choice made by a young woman in Eden.

"-pirates! Pirates and cowboys I tell you!"

The knocking on the door continued. At first, it had been gentle tapping, almost like guest outside was a small child. Of course, Crowley doubted that a young child was standing outside the door- why would a young child come looking for them? When the pounding on the door got slightly harder, Crowley was brought to the realization that the knocking definitely didn't belong to a child. Eventually, it sounds like a hailstorm pounding directly onto the door, making Crowley's eyes widen some.

He looked, firstly, to the children, seeing them huddle together by the couch. Warlock was holding an umbrella out in front of them, as though he were going to fight off the intruder with a mere umbrella that should have been thrown out in 1999. It was a brave action for the useless reserved and highly spoiled child, but Crowley was glad that his angel's- no, Aziraphale, it was just Aziraphale- kindness was rubbing off on him. The Antichrist, meanwhile, seemed to be bracing himself for something that Crowley couldn't piece together.

And honestly, Crowley was terrified. It had never occurred to him that he ought to lay down protective warding on the house, to keep his newfound family (and their friends) safe. It made him sick, knowing that he could have prevented whatever was going to happen. He was so dumb at times, and he was positive that this was why Aziraphale didn't love him.

Aziraphale... what would happen to him? Would he watch them die, helpless to do anything as he heard them scream? Would he swan dive in front of them and die protecting them?

All of this was sacrifice. Regardless of who did what, a sacrifice would be made. Blood would be spilled from the veins of the undesirable or innocent, tainting the way of life by poisoning the survivors' minds. It was like a cycle, although much less simple. Someone was bound to sacrifice themselves, and Crowley would gladly do it if it meant protecting Aziraphale.

Somewhere on the Wall of Eden, Crowley had lost a part of himself to an angel that was practically bound to never love him back. Crowley hadn't even known it back then, only knowing that he wanted to be close to the angel that gave away his sword to humanity. Even if he hadn't known it, Crowley doubted that he would be much different, as the angel touched his soul and hadn't known that he'd done it. It was like a sinner seeing a God for the first time, a dark impurity seeing the mirror image of purity and worth.

"Crowley, are you going to get the door or what?" Aziraphale sounded so far away. So, so far away.

"Sure," Crowley answered dazedly, walking towards the door. It felt so far. Why was it so far?

His fingers trembled as he stroked the door knob, feeling his hand fumble around with the said door knob. Had the door always been so heavy? And when had he opened it?

"Crowley, I think we need to have a little talk."

Crowley's mouth dropped some. How had they found him?

~

Hell had been in an uproar for months on end, an end to the chaos not in sight. Demons had been rebelling on scales that were higher than even Lucifer had, and nothing was getting done. Souls were roaring in anger and destroying everything that they could, not a demon caring enough to bother trying to stop them. So what if they destroyed all of the interior structure that had taken at least two thousand years to build?

All because of Crowley!

The apparent lack of punishment given to Crowley had started an uproar, only growing when it became apparent that he had ran off to live out his perfect little fantasy life with an angel. The demons were bitter; Crowley had no right to get away unexcused like he did, especially after ending the apocalypse. The greatly awaited war had been put off because some demon wanted to get a little to close to a rebellious angel. And Hell was pissed.

Realistically, the war between Heaven and Hell wasn't supposed to occur until at least four thousand more years, but when did demons and angels ever listen? All they saw was the perfect place to lay blame for the failure of a war that had easily been prevented by two incompetent entities, a preteen Antichrist, and severely other highly untrained individuals in the department of stopping apocalypses.

And Hell had begun to turn on Beelzebub. Even Dagon, one of Beelzebub's most loyal soldiers, had began to seek out other individuals that could potentially lead Hell, hopefully leading it to a new era towards the apocalypse. Had it been Beelzebub's fault that they were out on a date with Gabriel when this started going down? Absolutely, but they weren't taking the blame when that stupid Archangel could.

So Beelzebub had went off in hopes of finding Crowley, if only so they could behead him and return to Hell as a hero. Of course, leaving was the worse course of action, but they hadn't really thought out their plan very well. And when a strong pulse of power came from the tiny town that the Apocalypse called home, Beelzebub headed their immediately, hoping they were right about the Antichrist lashing out and using his powers.

Finding the demon had been another thing. They had to talk to a biblical devotee who thought that teenagers were the abomination, and he was rather slow with everything that Beelzebub said. They did learned, after about twenty-five minutes of hearing the man ramble about how glorious God was, that Aziraphale and Crowley lived in a quiet little house near the outskirts of the residential community.

The house had been tasteful, even if Beelzebub was desperate to set it on fire. A clean, rather short white picket fence circled the house, giving it the look of every generic house in the American Dream home. There were large trees in the front, one with apples dangling from the branches despite apple picking season being over a while ago, likely an angelic miracle. There was a small little porch with no furniture on it, the only thing on it being a slight specks of dirt from the garden on the sides. Otherwise, it was a simple white colored two-story home.

They hurried along the driveway, tempted to key Crowley's car simply for the fun of it. However, they didn't have the time for luxuries like such, so they continued about their way rather quickly. They gently knocked the door, hoping to give Crowley the illusion of being small and vulnerable. After realizing that didn't work, they just began banging on the door.

Merely seconds after opening the door, Beelzebub gave Crowley an unfriendly smile. "Crowley, I think we need to have a little talk."

~
[1] So I struggled with ideas, and I have no ideas where I'm going with this. Like, I do, but I also don't. I'm probably going to end this soon so I don't keep dragging it on and on and on. I'm thinking at least five more chapters. I'll see what happens.

I hope to update again soon!