entranceway | 7th Book || Good Morning Starshine the Earth Says Bugger Off [accidental video]

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7th Book || Good Morning Starshine the Earth Says Bugger Off [accidental video]

[The sun shone through the window onto Aziraphale’s face and roused the angel from his light dozing. He blinked open his blue eyes and sat up, fumbling for the communication device to check the time, accidentally flicking on the video feed in the process. Viewers are treated to the view of Aziraphale’s extra disheveled mop of curly blond hair, entirely bare torso, and a bit of ruffled white wings with black speckles behind him.]

[Keen-eyed viewers might also notice a certain dark lump on the opposite side of the bed. Or at least a tuft of black hair poking out of the top of the covers.]

Dear, I think it’s time to get up. What would you like for breakfast?

[No response except for the shift of fabric.]

Really, dear… Breakfast. And a nice pot of tea sound lovely. Wake up.

[He nudges the lump in what may or may not be the side. Who knows? It’s a human-sized mass under the blanket. The lump twitches a bit and the camera auto-focuses for a moment in confusion since the angle’s a bit rubbish. Something that looks like a black wing appears in the corner of the frame for a moment before dropping away out of sight off the side of the bed with a sort of “flump” sound.]

Mffggfffllllssssssstime ‘zit?

[Huh. That sounds like Crowley’s voice.]

Crowley, it’s already eight o’clock. It’s time to wake up and enjoy the morning.

[He slips his hand under the cover and feels along the lump until he finds what he’s looking for. Oh yeah, he pinches dat ass. The Crowley-shaped lump responds with a snarly-growly sound and curls up even tighter beneath the blankets, the tuft of hair disappearing from view.]

Nnnnffbloody mornin’, bloody ungodly hour ‘swhat. Five more hours. Sleepin’, angel.

Oh no you don’t. Not this time. I let you sleep to your heart’s content most of the time, but I want to take a walk.

[He hesitates before he pulls off the cover. The room isn’t cold, by any means. But suddenly going from blanket-covered to blanket-free can’t be fun. Especially not for that particular blanket-dweller. Fortunately for everyone involved, the blanket hits the communication device just enough to turn the camera--sorry, Wonderland, no free peep shows. There is, however, a yelp and then a thud as Crowley falls out of bed. A downy black feather drifts into view.]

Now that’s just bloody well cruel. Mornings are for songbirds and those bloody mad jogging types, not any self-respecting demon.

I asked you yesterday to be up at a reasonable hour because I wanted to share breakfast and tea and a walk with you in the morning and you agreed. Up you get, dear boy.

[Crowley makes some indecipherable grumbling sounds from offscreen.] Bloody angels with their bloody guilt trips and bloody sodding morn--

[Crowley trails off quite abruptly. For a few blessed moments, there is silence.]

[Then,] ...Why is that light blinking?

Hmm? What light?

That, light, the one on-- [Beat.] Angel, tell me you didn’t. Please tell me you didn’t--

[There’s a flapping sound, the thud of footsteps and then the communicator gets thrown clear across the room. It hits a wall and the feed cuts out.]

[ooc: Aziraphale and Crowley.]

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[He stiffens slightly, eyes betraying his upset for the moment before he turns back to the kitchenette. There was nothing more soothing than tea. If there was a problem, have some tea. He pours his own cup and brings it to his private little reading nook that faced a window and was really only suitable for one. Crowley could calm down on his blessed own.]

[A few minutes pass in silence, then,] How can you be so calm about this?

[He manages to sound almost calm himself when he says it.]

[He contemplates not answering. But that would be silly and childish and he is neither of those things. Those few minutes of silence saw him through quietly seething to quietly sad.]

What's done is done. There's no point in getting so worked up about it when it would have gotten out one way or another. No, it was not ideal. No, it wasn't our own terms. But it's too late to change it.

And it's not like it even matters in this place. One day we'll go back home and we won't even remember that we have this time together. Anyone from home that shows up here won't remember when they go back either.

[Crowley can feel it like a vibration in the air as the angel shifts from mad to sad. It makes him feel guilty, which makes him mad, because demons aren't supposed to feel guilty, and that just brings him back around to guilty again. He's upset, he's allowed to be upset, and it's not like he's mad at Aziraphale, so what--?]

[Then the angel speaks up and ah, there it is again. Seems Crowley isn't the only one with a deep-seated fear that's been eating at him for months.]

[He stops mid-pace and turns to face Aziraphale, spreading his arms.]

It might not have--we're good at keeping secrets, angel, comes with the job, doesn't it? We could have--ergghh, I know there's no changing it now, but that doesn't mean I'm going to be happy about it.

[Aziraphale's just always been better at letting things go. At least things that aren't books. Forgiveness, what a load of shit.]

And it does matter here--that--that makes it matter even more. Suppose...suppose someone got the bright idea to start blessing the pipes. Or suppose Wonderland decides a nice Apocalypse event is in order. Or suppose The Metatron, or G--He--does show up and orders you to smite me or be cast out. That's why this place matters--that's why we have to be careful. Have you ever wondered what happens to us if we're discorporated? Not killed, just--discorporated. Where do we go?

And you really don't understand why I'm making a fuss?

I never expected you to be happy about it, Crowley.

[He's tucked away in his little hidey hole, looking out the window with the tea in his hands. He is trying to keep his hands steady. He's not doing all that well.]

And of course there are so very many questions we have no answers to. But do not think for one second that I would not defy any orders to harm you, regardless of who issued them.

[That should probably make him happy. It should probably make him realize how much Aziraphale loves him, how glad he is that they have what they have, how devoted they are to each other.]

[And it does, sure, but mostly it just scares the living daylights out of him. Snakes bite when they're scared.]

You'd do that? You'd just go ahead and Fall for me? Having Zirah in your head didn't put you off the idea? Because that's what happens when we--when--when angels Fall, Aziraphale. You think I wasn't a bit mad for awhile, after?

[The sadness rolls back away to reveal a quietly smoldering anger. There is a sharp edge to his voice as he speaks. His hand are no longer trembling but his knuckles have grown whit as his grip on the mug tightens.]

Crowley, be reasonable. He didn't Fall for his conviction. He didn't Fall for his heart. He Fell for a thought and lost his mind seeking forgiveness. And I can guarantee you I would not seek forgiveness from one ordering me to smite you. If I Fall for refusing to kill the being I love more than anything else, then so be it.

[Crowley has the audacity to laugh. Just a little, a short, sharp, totally mirthless bark. He sort of can't believe that they've gotten to this point. They've had the good sense not to talk about Falling in the past, except to give it passing mention.]

You had him in your head and you still don't understand. Well, him and my charming other self, they're not even real, are they, just copies. Memories aren't really real for them, eh? Of course you wouldn't get it.

[Angels never will, nor should they. Crowley is honestly thankful that Aziraphale doesn't understand, even if it does make things frustrating.]

I think I'd rather you stick me with that flaming sword than watch you turn into...

[Zirah. Hastur. Me.]

Were I to do something like that I would Fall anyway. I would much rather Fall for saving you than Fall because I ripped my own heart in two and destroyed the only being that truly matters to me.

[His voice drops again, quiet and small.]

Crowley, I am a coward. The thought of living without you makes me want to do anything, anything to prevent that from happening.

["The only being." Something about that sticks in Crowley's head. He smiles bitterly.]

You're saying you would defy Him for me. That's not cowardice, angel, that's stupidity. That's blasphemy.

[As if he wasn't scared enough already. If Aziraphale keeps talking like this he really will fall, right here and now.]

[Crowley scrambles for something to say that will shut the angel up, that will make him understand something that angels aren't even built to understand.]

Aziraphale, if you Fell, you wouldn't love me anymore.

[He curls tighter to himself, still staring out the window.]

It doesn't matter anyway. He's not coming to Wonderland and I will forget all of this when I return home. So will you. I will return to being a (mostly) obedient servant of the Lord.

[Relief floods through Crowley. Thank Someone they're not talking about Falling anymore. Maybe this means Aziraphale's still safe for now.]

[Even if he is still being an idiot.]

That's what I said before, angel, that's why this place matters so much. That's why we have to be careful. We can't act like we're immune.

[He pauses. He knows he's being harsh, even if it's in a good cause, sort of. And now that Aziraphale isn't talking about defying God and swan diving straight into Hell, Crowley figures he can lighten up a little.]

...Anyway, you shouldn't worry so much about going home. We'd...forget everything, yes. But it's not like we... [He rubs the back of his neck.] It's not like all these feelings started in Wonderland. Even if we forgot this place, we'd figure it out eventually. We'd find a way. Clever like that.

And just what would we be able to do about it at home, hmm? Nothing. We'd realize our feelings and be forced to do nothing.

I'm saying we'd find a way, angel. We helped stop an Apocalypse, I'm pretty sure we could find a way to shag now and then. [He knows it's more complicated than just that, but he's been giving it some thought for awhile now. If both of them have had feelings for each other since long before coming to Wonderland, then God probably already knows about it. It's not falling in love with a demon that would get Aziraphale kicked out of Heaven, Crowley realizes; it's defying God. Which Aziraphale just came within inches of doing a minute ago.]

[Crowley's superiors, on the other hand, undoubtedly don't know. If they did, they'd have dragged him back to Hell years ago. He thinks about the white on his wings and shudders a little. No sense in bringing that up; he's trying to give Aziraphale hope here.]

And then one or both of us would be recalled. Perhaps reeducated.

[He's not stupid. He knows the possible consequences back home for their dalliance together. Consequences they don't have to face here.]

Wouldn't be that much different than leaving this place and having our memories erased. As long as we're alive, we can find each other again.

[So long as they're both alive, and so long as Aziraphale hasn't Fallen.]

And it's still just more reason to value our time here. The fact that we'll forget and have to start from zed makes it that much more important.

I don't... I don't want to go back home. I don't want to have to live in fear for loving you.

[Crowley sags a little. This is just...this is all too much. He never realized that relationships also meant conversations of this nature. They were always wise enough to steer clear of the heavy stuff until recently.]

...I don't want to go home, either.

[But that's not what really scares him.]

Let's...let's stop talking about this. No sense in worrying what might happen, what's done is done, and you're not anywhere near sauntering at this point, you're jogging. Let's just drop it.

[He slowly nods. The angel remains silent for a long moment and then,] Crowley, I think you should go back to your room for a while.

[Crowley looks up sharply and stares at Aziraphale from across the room, silent.]

[He'd been going over all the ways he could lose the angel--Aziraphale goes home without him, Aziraphale Falls, Aziraphale dies, Aziraphale comes to his senses. Pushing the angel too far wasn't a scenario that had crossed his mind until now.]

[This isn't that, right? This is just a row. People do that, they have a row and they make up later. That's what this is, right?]

Oh.

[He's not going to panic again. No.]

Right, that's...that's for the best. [He turns away, clears his throat, manifests the rest of his clothes and a pair of sunglasses.] I'll, er. Right.

[He's out the door without another word.]

[Crowley's gone before he can tell him to come back later. It is just a row. Nothing permanent.

He just knows how Crowley feels about seeing Aziraphale cry and there are hot, wet tear tracks running down his face. Slowly the angel sinks onto the cushions and tries to sort out his heart and his mind.]

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7th Book || Good Morning Starshine the Earth Says Bugger Off [accidental video]

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