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Am I My Brother's Keeper?

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Crowley decided he didn't want to watch the mass massacre and sat by the streambed of the Nile that went past Goshen. He could still hear a scream, every now and then, or soldiers following women that decided that they wouldn't be passive while they killed their children. 

Aziraphale had searched for Crowley and found him. He looked at his pensive friend, and he lowered his gaze. He knew exactly was went through the demon's mind. Egypt proved to be an exhausting place to be in. Neither of them had specific orders: "Go to Egypt, something big is coming," they had told them, so nothing specific. Both were invisible and frequented both the Royal Palace as ministers from foreign countries, the Egyptian city, and Goshen, the land given to the Hebrews by the pharaoh Yosef back in the day. It was the roughest treatment of humans by other humans the angel and the demon had ever seen before, and they had seen everything. They saw big monuments being built by children and elders all the same, and a lot of death, just because... what they believed in and where they came from.

And now the children, thought Aziraphale. The children, again, repeated Crowley in his head. The concept of belonging was a strange thing for both of them, but humans always belonged somewhere, in spite of their nomad nature. They always went somewhere. And the Egyptians thought these many Hebrews didn't belong in Egypt, it could cause... an uprising. Seti ordered the murder of the Israelite children. It was spine-chilling that it was always children to pay for what they  didn't understand. 

"Crowley..." Aziraphale put his hand on Crowley's shoulder. 

"This is why I'm a demon. How can't you wonder why these things are possible?"

"You realise this is not Heaven's work."

"But you allow it! I'm a fucking demon, if I saved them they would- So I can't. But you bet I want to."

Aziraphale sighed. There really wasn't anything to say; consolation was out of the question. He stood next to his friend and watched the river. It was dusk and the sun set orange in the horizon. 

The angel heard a hustle between the reeds, but when he turned his head the rustle moved a bit further away from them. He heard shoos and sobbing and he felt his heart beating on his throat. Crowley turned his heard to the sound too, and they both watched the scene. A Hebrew woman carrying a basket and followed by two children, a girl and a boy, sat by the river. There was a lot of love around them, but the deepest sadness and fear too. Crowley gulped at the sound of the wailing of the woman, a sound of mourning, an old cry. The little girl embraced her mother and the boy stood there with a wet face. The tears of the mother and her child fell on the basked. She opened it and a baby was seen inside. Aziraphale stepped forward but Crowley grabbed his tunic. "Wait."

"What is she going to do? Surely she doesn't plan to put the..."

"She is absolutely doing that."

A mother's love. Even Crowley knew that it was the strongest force in the universe. 

The woman kissed the baby, whispered sweet nothings, and closed the basket. The baby was sound sleep now. She stood and holding the basket she walked inside the waters in a reverential way, looking at the long space of water in front of her. She prayed, Aziraphale felt it and he freed himself from Crowley's grab. He walked towards the family, and stood behind the boy. The mother had left the basket go and the river rocked the baby. The girl followed the basket running along the river-bed. The mother turned but Aziraphale was already gone, and a fingers click was the only thing they ever heard. The young baby would come through safely, somebody made sure of it.