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You can be amazing
You can turn a phrase into a weapon or a drug
You can be the outcast
Or be the backlash of somebody's lack of love
Or you can start speaking up
Nothing's gonna hurt you the way that words do
And they settle 'neath your skin
Kept on the inside and no sunlight
Sometimes a shadow wins
But I wonder what would happen if you
Say what you wanna say
And let the words fall out
Honestly I wanna see you be brave
With what you want to say
And let the words fall out
Honestly I wanna see you be brave
‘The day started out normal enough.’ Aziraphale thought with a soft slightly undignified snort.
‘How in the blazes did I end up in this predicament, then?’
He watched with a tired stare at the various levels of heavenly hosts chattering – or more appropriately; bickering – in front of him concerning a certain case that they brought up regarding him and his – ahem – friend-of-sorts, the demon Crawly, or as he preferred to be called now-a-days, Anthony J. Crowley.
One of the angels – a Malakhim (lowest order of angels) named Kushiel – had seen him and Crowley “cavorting wildly” inside The Ritz on one of their regular dinner get-togethers which seemed to be happening quite frequently now that Aziraphale had time to reflect about it. But his mind was immediately diverted once more to the angel who had reported them and resulted into several Authorities (warrior angels) to “arrest” him from his bookshop for “indecent acts of immorality and fraternizing with the adversary” (take note of the small ‘a’ in adversary). This Malakhim was probably looking for a higher commendation up the proverbial ladder of angelic hierarchy, if his underhanded report was anything to go by.
Oh, how he would delight in wringing this angel Kushiel’s neck from one of the high-rising buildings in New York (he asked for an apology after thinking about this image). He and Crowley were most certainly not cavorting, thank you very much! They were amicably eating a hearty supper of steamed trout, smoked ham, and buttered rice topped with garlic and parsley. After which they ordered an iniquitously delicious serving of Cannoli, Crocette, Panforte and Semifreddo alongside a warm cup of chamomile tea for dessert. There was certainly no sort of hobnobbing with the enemy – and it’s not like he was tempting humans to sin, he was only dining with Crowley and talking about, well, anything and everything. Certainly that could not be considered as fraternizing! (At least not in that sense. . . right?)
Aziraphale sighed despairingly as he awaited for the heavenly hosts to settle down and actually talk about the accusation being brought upon him. He sat down with a forlorn look in his eyes as he half-contemplated to slip out from Heaven and return back to Earth, to his quaint dusty bookshop, wondering if anyone would notice or even remember why they were all gathered in the first place. Would he be brought back to heaven?
He was already about to bolt and run away when the double white doors of the hall that they were all gathered in suddenly opened and in walked The Dominions. Also known as ‘The Lordships’ and heavenly governors of the lower angels. They are the regulators of the law that the angels follow and are classically known to look divinely beautiful while still maintaining an air of respect. They normally have orbs of light fastened to the heads of their scepters or on the pommel of their swords in order to distinguish them from other angels. They are a very quiet and calculating hierarchy of angels, always fair in their decisions and never judging without first thoroughly dissecting the situation at hand.
Aziraphale felt his back stiffen and his wings outstretch widely at the sight of The Dominions.
‘Goodness, it reached up to them?’ He thought with slightly fear and worry.
‘How far up on the spheres of hierarchy must this accusation be taken?’
He expected that maybe The Archangels (though being higher than The Dominions) would be the one to look into this matter, and since they seem to have too much on their plate lately – what with the Apocalypse That Never Was – he also expected that they would merely brush of the report about him and Crowley and he would be able to go back down to Earth with no hassle or tangles from the Up-There Departments.
‘But if this report has reached The Dominions, this is truly a serious matter.’
Aziraphale felt dread seeping into his face as everyone inside the hall quieted down to hushed murmurs and The Dominions sat down on the high chairs in the middle of the room, with Aziraphale sitting on their left, and Kushiel sitting on the right.
“Let us all rise as respect for Tzadkiel, Patron Angel of Forgiveness and Leader of The Dominions!” One of The Dominions – Zachariel – announced in a booming voice.
A tall, celestially beautiful angel walked into the room, his golden streaked hair and wide pearly white arching wings expanding behind him as he approached the chair in the middle of the room. And when he sat down, every angel had completely quieted down and was awaiting for his words.
“I am Tzadkiel, Leader of The Heavenly Dominions, and presiding judge of the matter we currently have at hand.” His voice, though soft and lilting, was strong and powerful, enough to tame even the mightiest of leaders.
Aziraphale felt petrified.
“Please rise, Principality Aziraphale.” He motioned gracefully with his hand for Aziraphale to stand from where he was seated.
Aziraphale stood up slowly to face Tzadkiel. He mentally took deep breaths to calm himself down as all eyes turned to stare at him. He felt like a poor small ant, helpless and harmless, being scrutinized under a microscope by a child who would decide whether or not he should be burned by the sunlight or left alone.
“Do you, Aziraphale, Angel of the Third Sphere, a Principality, acquiesce with the accusations made against you by Kushiel, Angel of the Third Sphere, a Malakhim?”
Aziraphale stood straighter and looked directly into Tzadkiel’s eyes.
“May I request a full oral repetition of the exact accusation made against me?”
Tzadkiel nodded his assent.
“Certainly. You are hereby accused to have been acting immorally and non-angelically by the Laws and Standards of the Angels via cavorting and fraternizing with the enemy, a demon by the name of Crawly. Do you or do you not agree with this statement?”
Aziraphale looked up thoughtfully for a moment before giving his sincerest and most honest reply.
“No sir, I do not comply with these accusations made against me.”
Tzadkiel raised an eyebrow at his reply while Kushiel glared and slightly growled against him while standing up in indignation.
“And why not!?” Kushiel angrily retorted.
“I saw you having relations with that demon you seem to be so fond of. You were eating in a gaudy establishment in England, sharing a table and having a few laughs with a vilifier like him.” He practically spat out the words as he leaned towards the stand he was standing behind in and was pointing a finger against Aziraphale.
Aziraphale raised a brow at Kushiel and turned respectfully to Tzadkiel.
“May I be allowed to state my justification for my reply?”
Tzadkiel nodded, keeping an even expression.
Aziraphale took a deep breath. He faced every angel, every heavenly host inside the hall. He allowed himself to glance at their faces, and them at his before he began.
“The accusations made against me by Kushiel is something that I cannot fully agree with because, firstly, I was not “cavorting with the enemy” as he so calls it for I was merely dining with Crowley in a restaurant the humans refer to as The Ritz. Cavorting would mean that I was fooling around with him via tempting other people to sin and assisting him in his demonic ways, which I did not do at all. And though I do not deny that I was with him, I was not doing anything immoral, unless you count eating fish, pork and sugary-filled confections as sinful.” He paused for effect, allowing his words to sink in.
“Secondly, it was mentioned that I was fraternizing with the adversary. Meaning I consider Crowley a compatriot of sorts. Well, I would like to tell you that, yes, I do consider him a friend of mine.”
Several gasps and widening of eyes are heard and seen among the crowds of angels and even among The Dominions. Kushiel was shouting that Aziraphale was blasphemous and some of The Dominions were looking like they wanted to either faint or beat him up with a big stick just to be convinced that he still had his wits about him. Tzadkiel, on the other hand, remained silent and expressionless.
Zachariel shouted for order to return.
“Order! Order in the Court of Angels!”
Everyone quieted down again while still looking at Aziraphale with wide stupefied expressions on their ethereal faces.
“Principality Aziraphale, I believe an explanation is necessary for your – ermm – tremendously shocking statement.” Zachariel stage-murmured.
Aziraphale silently stared at everyone once again. He noted how some even looked disgusted with what he just said. Others merely seem surprised.
‘Why is it so bad to call him a friend?’ He wondered, saddened and confused.
‘Are we not both of “angel stock” as Crowley would normally say?’
‘Is he not a creation of GOD too?’
Aziraphale closed his eyes and breathe a sigh. He opened them again before turning to face Tzadkiel, who stood motionless and expressionless in the middle of the room. Their eyes met and Aziraphale began.
“Is it not written in the Scriptures to “love thine enemies as thee love thyself”? Did GOD not say that we should love our foes? Yes, it is shocking for all of you to hear that I do love Crowley, a demon (even he is shocked at this revelation at times, though he would only admit that to himself). In what way? I cannot truly say for even I can barely explain it. Yes he is the adversary, yes he does a lot of atrocious and vile acts, yes he tempts humans (and occasionally even me), yes he is confusing and malicious and corrupt – he drowns the ducks in St. James Park for crying out loud! But I would never have understood what love really is if it were not for him. For despite all this, despite all the bad things I have mentioned about him, I have learned to love him as he is and accept him, eccentricities and all – golden-snake eyes and smoky black wings. I have learned to love the sinner, but not the sin. And is this not what love is supposed to be?”
You could hear a pin drop in the middle of the hall with the ringing silence that reverberated in everybody.
Aziraphale continued on. Unearthing his bravery from a box in his heart that he solely kept for moments such as this.
“And on that note, I have never allowed Crowley to side-track me from my heavenly duties, in fact, I make it a point to thwart him wherever and whenever I can. He may be dear to me, but that does not mean that I approve of all that he does. I am not daft, neither am I blind or blinding myself from the fact he is a demon and I an angel.”
And then soft clapping was heard.
Aziraphale turned his head and was surprised to see Tzadkiel clapping his hands softly, a bright smile plastered on his lips, his eyes shone with delight and understanding.
“Indeed, Principality Aziraphale, indeed. I fully agree with what you said and that being said. . . I am dismissing the accusations laid against you. On the assurance that as long as you still abide by the laws of the angels and do not go against our Holy Laws and Scriptures, I will not hold it against you to be ‘friends’ with the likes of the demon Crawly. Go now, and do what you must.”
Aziraphale breathed a sigh of utter relief.
‘He was free to go. Thank GO- Thank Chris- Thank goodness.’
He bowed his head low to Tzadkiel who slightly lowered his in return. All the angels looked absolutely disbelieving of the judgment given, but The Dominion’s words are law (well not law, LAW, but close enough to being a Judge here in heaven), and they know best, and thus, none spoke against them and they simply nodded and went about their daily duties.
One by one, all the angels were dispersed until Aziraphale and Kushiel were the only angels left inside the hall. Aziraphale turned towards Kushiel with a soft smug look – at least, as smug as an angel can get.
“Good day, Angel Kushiel.” He nodded his head in goodbye.
Kushiel glared.
“Do not be complacent, Aziraphale. This isn’t over, and I surely won’t let it be. For I believe that even the most righteous of angels can Fall, what more a Principality like yourself consorting with scum like him.”
“You better watch what you are doing from now on, for I will not stop until I find a reason for you to Fall because of that demon!” He spat in disgust.
Aziraphale smirked (probably something he picked up from Crowley).
“Then do your best, for I know that someone will catch me if ever I do Fall.”
-Back in Earth, Soho, London, Aziraphale’s Bookshop-
Crowley paced back and forth in the backroom of Aziraphale’s dusty old bookshop. He gripped a white piece of parchment in one hand while the other was placed over his mouth in a physical expression of fear and worry for his angel.
‘HIS angel? Hold on, when did I consider him MINE?’ Crowley’s eyes widened before he shook his head as if to dispel the thoughts.
‘Focus on the problem at hand, you nincompoop.’ He mentally hissed to himself.
Aziraphale had been gone for almost seven hours now, it was nearing 11:00pm on Earth. Shockingly, the timeframe in Heaven is quite different from the timeframe on Earth, with regards to the fact that Heaven does not have a night and thus it is always morning there. Ergo, if you were to stay in Heaven for a period of time, you might be shocked to find that when you return to Earth, it is already dark and people are sleeping peacefully (and/or partying in clubs and bars).
‘Where is that damned angel?’ Crowley half-hissed.
‘What if he IS DAMNED because of me!?’
His thoughts were beginning to turn frantic and the missing angel was not helping his mind to calm down. Suddenly, Crowley heard the front door of the shop open, and he immediately bolted to see who it was. Lo and behold, there stood Aziraphale in the doorway, looking worn and weary but very much unscathed and very much alive.
“Oh Peter, Paul and John, you’re alive!” Crowley cried, happy and calmed (slightly).
Aziraphale smiled widely.
“Were you worried about me, my dear?” He slightly teased.
Crowley frowned.
“Of course I am! You bloody fool! Why would I not be!? I read your message – written in Parchment, might I add, seriously angel, I distinctly remember teaching you how to use you your ansaphone, anyways – and I feared for the worse! Of course I’d be worried!” He half shouted before stiffening in shock when he realized what he just said.
Aziraphale too looked surprised at Crowley’s sudden outburst, his eyes widening and his mouth opening slightly. But he regained his senses and he found himself smiling softly.
“I missed you too, my dear. It is good to be back home.”
Crowley sighed, before returning his smile with a genuine one of his own.
“It’s great to have you back, angel.”
Aziraphale nodded, smiling wider as he watched Crowley move about his bookstore, rearranging things and looking for the alcoholic beverages that would surely make them tipsy again for another night of drinking and story-telling and reminiscing and joking before sobering back up and possibly repeating said process until the wee morning hours.
“Indeed, it is.”
Innocence, your history of silence
Won't do you any good
Did you think it would?
Let your words be anything but empty
Why don't you tell them the truth?
Say what you wanna say
And let the words fall out
Honestly I wanna see you be brave
With what you want to say
And let the words fall out
Honestly I wanna see you be brave