the missing gift for sailorptah!
Title: Death, But Not As We Know It
Recipient: sailorptah
From: iambickilometer
Rating: G
Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale go looking for someone. Adam has a plan.
Angels, as a rule, didn't spend much time in Purgatory, and demons wouldn't be seen dead there (or alive, or whatever a demon generally is, for that matter). Typically there wasn't much to do there; the people spent most of their time hanging around avoid getting kicked down to Hell, or desperately praying to get pulled up to Heaven. Occasionally one might find someone desperate to tell their life's story, or someone eager to hear about life on earth, but most people were caught up in whatever they were doing and had little attention to spare for visitors.
Crowley hated it.
He wasn't about to admit that, though, not after having pulled Aziraphale after him into the wretched place. "It's not the Ritz," he said, carefully stuffing his hands into expensive suit pockets, "but duty calls."
"Next time," Aziraphale replied fondly.
"I just have to wonder how we're going to find him," Crowley added. He was doing his best not to complain too much about situation. After all, he could've been the one stuck with Dog. He'd lucked out, just having to journey to Purgatory in what amounted to a search for a needle in a haystack in the middle of a field of haystacks all of which contained rather similar needles. At least it was only Purgatory, which meant that both he and Aziraphale could go and search together, without encountering too many of their peers.
"If only he wasn't so..."
"Powerful?" Aziraphale finished.
"I was going to say curious," Crowley said. "But that works just as well."
Dog was feeling very miserable indeed. He'd chased a squirrel up a tree and barked at it, and then when he had returned to his master, it was to find him talking to a tall figure in black. Then his master had waved at him, smiled, and vanished into thin air.
Then there had been a brief and confusing time where a great deal of other human and human-shaped beings showed up and argued amongst themselves, and then all of them had gone their separate ways and the tall figure in black and Dog had been alone again.
The figure all in black looked down at the whining Dog. "I KNOW," he said, mournfully. "I TOO AM EAGER FOR HIM TO RETURN."
Purgatory was generally drab and uninteresting to look at. This would probably work in their benefit - Adam was a rather noticeable boy, all things considered - but they had to find him, first. There was a lot of Purgatory to look through.
“What did Death say he was doing here, anyway?” Aziraphale asked, at length. Crowley hadn't paused to explain much before dragging him off to Purgatory, though. It hadn't occurred to him. He'd been too worried about what Hell might do, if word got Below that the Antichrist had moved on to other planes. He'd brought Aziraphale along because the same was probably true for Above, and also because he was getting used to being on Aziraphale's side in a crisis. Since this was a perfectly serviceable arrangement, almost worthy of its own capital A, Crowley saw no reason to change how he'd been doing things.
He hadn't thought of the possibility that Aziraphale wouldn't agree. It simply didn't work like that.
“He wanted to know what happened when humans die,” Crowley said. “Death explained. Adam tried it for himself, and now we've got to fish him out.”
“So he's dead?” Aziraphale sounded more than a little alarmed.
Crowley tugged his foot free of the slightly nonexistent floor, and leveled his best demonic glare into the grey haze of the neutral afterlife. “Possibly. Hopefully not. We don't know, no one's done it like this before. But he's in Purgatory, so probably not.”
“I wouldn't call it suicide, not exactly,” Aziraphale protested. “More... overzealous scientific inquiry.”
“You would be surprised how many people make the case,” said a younger, female voice, and angel and demon look to the left where a smiling girl with black hair and heavy eye makeup had fallen into step with them. “We have a great deal of scientists here in Purgatory.”
There was a moment of surprised silence, and Crowley exchanged a confused glance with Aziraphale. “Er,” said Crowley. “You are?”
“Death,” said the girl, cheerfully.
“How do you do?” Aziraphale replied, possibly automatically, as he still looked just as confused as Crowley still felt.
“There's two of us,” the other Death explained. “Since no one else wants much to do with Purgatory, we run it. Hedid the décor.”
“I'm not surprised,” murmured Aziraphale. There was then an awkward moment where Aziraphale apparently was contemplating Death's décor, and Crowley tried to remember the proper etiquette for asking the location of someone who isn't supposed to be dead but might be. Last thing he wants to do is insinuate that Death had a reason to keep Adam there.
Then young Death smiled again, apparently taking pity on them. “Are you two looking for someone, then?”
“Er,” said Aziraphale.
“Yes,” said Crowley.
“Older boy, maybe eleven, golden curls, prettier than I am?” Death dimpled. There was something very wrong with seeing dimples on the face of Death. Crowley was much more accustomed to her more skeletal counterpart, who always smiled because he could make no other faces than the one he wore. He never dimpled. It was probably because he had no skin to dimple with.
“Er,” said Aziraphale again. “Is his name Adam?”
“He's an Antichrist,” Death replied cheerfully. “He's been exploring. He may have made some changes; it's too late to notice, now. That's the bother with antichrists.”
Crowley turned to Aziraphale, and they exchanged a glance that said, this was way too easy. “Can you take us to him?”
“That I can do,” said Death.
Dog whined from time to time, in the small hope that his master would hear and show up from wherever he went. The figure all in black looked down when Dog whined, and scratched behind his ears. His fingers were thin and cold and too smooth to scratch properly, but Dog didn't mind.
“IT SHOULDN'T BE TOO MUCH LONGER,” said Death.
“So what's the catch?” Crowley asked. He kept his voice low, so as not to let young Death hear. The truth was, resurrection only ever seemed to go well when there was a divine ordinance backing it, and Aziraphale's request probably wouldn't cut it. But then again, they didn't even know if Adam actually counted as being dead.
“Catch?” Death laughed. Apparently low wasn't low enough. “There is no catch. Antichrists and Purgatory don't mix. They change things. Purgatory is always the same.”
Crowley looked up. The sky, or maybe the ceiling, was just as grey and insubstantial as the ground and the mostly opaque air. He never had been to Purgatory before, but he was pretty sure it wasn't supposed to be this... literal. He was also fairly certain there weren't supposed to be two Deaths.
Then again, someone had to mind the shop while Death walked Dog.
“I expect not,” Aziraphale said, but he looked troubled too. Crowley caught his eye, lowered his sunglasses enough to arch an eyebrow and convey his shared trepidations.
“He's right there,” Death said, pointing into the haze. “Adam, could you come over here and say hello?”
Sure enough, Adam emerged from the mist and grinned at his search party as if he'd called them there himself. “Hang on,” he said, “I'm nearly done here. Just making sure it stays like this.”
Crowley exchanged another troubled glance with Aziraphale. So Adam had been doing something here. The trouble was, there was no way to prove it, and really nothing to do about it either way. Whatever changed, that was Adam's doing and Adam's secret. Like young Death had said - it was always this way, now.
Then Adam brushed his hands off against his trousers. “Let's go home,” he said. “Dog will be missing me.”
“I'll, ah, take care of that, shall I?” Aziraphale said, rather more quickly than he needed to - but then again, if Adam was in the mood to change things, maybe that was best.
“Thanks for walking Dog for me,” Adam said, looking up at Death and smiling.
Death stared down, and smiled too, but for different reasons. “WHAT DID YOU DO?”
Adam took Dog's leash from Death's skeletal fingers. Around them, the day went on as before, but a light fog had rolled in from the sea. “There needed to be a third place. Somewhere you can go and not hafta be good or bad or anything, when you die.”
“A HUMAN ALTERNATIVE,” Death said.
“Exactly,” Adam replied, happily. “I knew you'd see it my way. Come on, Dog, let's go home.”
Death watched them go, and kept smiling, because Death always smiles.
Recipient: sailorptah
From: iambickilometer
Rating: G
Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale go looking for someone. Adam has a plan.
Angels, as a rule, didn't spend much time in Purgatory, and demons wouldn't be seen dead there (or alive, or whatever a demon generally is, for that matter). Typically there wasn't much to do there; the people spent most of their time hanging around avoid getting kicked down to Hell, or desperately praying to get pulled up to Heaven. Occasionally one might find someone desperate to tell their life's story, or someone eager to hear about life on earth, but most people were caught up in whatever they were doing and had little attention to spare for visitors.
Crowley hated it.
He wasn't about to admit that, though, not after having pulled Aziraphale after him into the wretched place. "It's not the Ritz," he said, carefully stuffing his hands into expensive suit pockets, "but duty calls."
"Next time," Aziraphale replied fondly.
"I just have to wonder how we're going to find him," Crowley added. He was doing his best not to complain too much about situation. After all, he could've been the one stuck with Dog. He'd lucked out, just having to journey to Purgatory in what amounted to a search for a needle in a haystack in the middle of a field of haystacks all of which contained rather similar needles. At least it was only Purgatory, which meant that both he and Aziraphale could go and search together, without encountering too many of their peers.
"If only he wasn't so..."
"Powerful?" Aziraphale finished.
"I was going to say curious," Crowley said. "But that works just as well."
Dog was feeling very miserable indeed. He'd chased a squirrel up a tree and barked at it, and then when he had returned to his master, it was to find him talking to a tall figure in black. Then his master had waved at him, smiled, and vanished into thin air.
Then there had been a brief and confusing time where a great deal of other human and human-shaped beings showed up and argued amongst themselves, and then all of them had gone their separate ways and the tall figure in black and Dog had been alone again.
The figure all in black looked down at the whining Dog. "I KNOW," he said, mournfully. "I TOO AM EAGER FOR HIM TO RETURN."
Purgatory was generally drab and uninteresting to look at. This would probably work in their benefit - Adam was a rather noticeable boy, all things considered - but they had to find him, first. There was a lot of Purgatory to look through.
“What did Death say he was doing here, anyway?” Aziraphale asked, at length. Crowley hadn't paused to explain much before dragging him off to Purgatory, though. It hadn't occurred to him. He'd been too worried about what Hell might do, if word got Below that the Antichrist had moved on to other planes. He'd brought Aziraphale along because the same was probably true for Above, and also because he was getting used to being on Aziraphale's side in a crisis. Since this was a perfectly serviceable arrangement, almost worthy of its own capital A, Crowley saw no reason to change how he'd been doing things.
He hadn't thought of the possibility that Aziraphale wouldn't agree. It simply didn't work like that.
“He wanted to know what happened when humans die,” Crowley said. “Death explained. Adam tried it for himself, and now we've got to fish him out.”
“So he's dead?” Aziraphale sounded more than a little alarmed.
Crowley tugged his foot free of the slightly nonexistent floor, and leveled his best demonic glare into the grey haze of the neutral afterlife. “Possibly. Hopefully not. We don't know, no one's done it like this before. But he's in Purgatory, so probably not.”
“I wouldn't call it suicide, not exactly,” Aziraphale protested. “More... overzealous scientific inquiry.”
“You would be surprised how many people make the case,” said a younger, female voice, and angel and demon look to the left where a smiling girl with black hair and heavy eye makeup had fallen into step with them. “We have a great deal of scientists here in Purgatory.”
There was a moment of surprised silence, and Crowley exchanged a confused glance with Aziraphale. “Er,” said Crowley. “You are?”
“Death,” said the girl, cheerfully.
“How do you do?” Aziraphale replied, possibly automatically, as he still looked just as confused as Crowley still felt.
“There's two of us,” the other Death explained. “Since no one else wants much to do with Purgatory, we run it. Hedid the décor.”
“I'm not surprised,” murmured Aziraphale. There was then an awkward moment where Aziraphale apparently was contemplating Death's décor, and Crowley tried to remember the proper etiquette for asking the location of someone who isn't supposed to be dead but might be. Last thing he wants to do is insinuate that Death had a reason to keep Adam there.
Then young Death smiled again, apparently taking pity on them. “Are you two looking for someone, then?”
“Er,” said Aziraphale.
“Yes,” said Crowley.
“Older boy, maybe eleven, golden curls, prettier than I am?” Death dimpled. There was something very wrong with seeing dimples on the face of Death. Crowley was much more accustomed to her more skeletal counterpart, who always smiled because he could make no other faces than the one he wore. He never dimpled. It was probably because he had no skin to dimple with.
“Er,” said Aziraphale again. “Is his name Adam?”
“He's an Antichrist,” Death replied cheerfully. “He's been exploring. He may have made some changes; it's too late to notice, now. That's the bother with antichrists.”
Crowley turned to Aziraphale, and they exchanged a glance that said, this was way too easy. “Can you take us to him?”
“That I can do,” said Death.
Dog whined from time to time, in the small hope that his master would hear and show up from wherever he went. The figure all in black looked down when Dog whined, and scratched behind his ears. His fingers were thin and cold and too smooth to scratch properly, but Dog didn't mind.
“IT SHOULDN'T BE TOO MUCH LONGER,” said Death.
“So what's the catch?” Crowley asked. He kept his voice low, so as not to let young Death hear. The truth was, resurrection only ever seemed to go well when there was a divine ordinance backing it, and Aziraphale's request probably wouldn't cut it. But then again, they didn't even know if Adam actually counted as being dead.
“Catch?” Death laughed. Apparently low wasn't low enough. “There is no catch. Antichrists and Purgatory don't mix. They change things. Purgatory is always the same.”
Crowley looked up. The sky, or maybe the ceiling, was just as grey and insubstantial as the ground and the mostly opaque air. He never had been to Purgatory before, but he was pretty sure it wasn't supposed to be this... literal. He was also fairly certain there weren't supposed to be two Deaths.
Then again, someone had to mind the shop while Death walked Dog.
“I expect not,” Aziraphale said, but he looked troubled too. Crowley caught his eye, lowered his sunglasses enough to arch an eyebrow and convey his shared trepidations.
“He's right there,” Death said, pointing into the haze. “Adam, could you come over here and say hello?”
Sure enough, Adam emerged from the mist and grinned at his search party as if he'd called them there himself. “Hang on,” he said, “I'm nearly done here. Just making sure it stays like this.”
Crowley exchanged another troubled glance with Aziraphale. So Adam had been doing something here. The trouble was, there was no way to prove it, and really nothing to do about it either way. Whatever changed, that was Adam's doing and Adam's secret. Like young Death had said - it was always this way, now.
Then Adam brushed his hands off against his trousers. “Let's go home,” he said. “Dog will be missing me.”
“I'll, ah, take care of that, shall I?” Aziraphale said, rather more quickly than he needed to - but then again, if Adam was in the mood to change things, maybe that was best.
“Thanks for walking Dog for me,” Adam said, looking up at Death and smiling.
Death stared down, and smiled too, but for different reasons. “WHAT DID YOU DO?”
Adam took Dog's leash from Death's skeletal fingers. Around them, the day went on as before, but a light fog had rolled in from the sea. “There needed to be a third place. Somewhere you can go and not hafta be good or bad or anything, when you die.”
“A HUMAN ALTERNATIVE,” Death said.
“Exactly,” Adam replied, happily. “I knew you'd see it my way. Come on, Dog, let's go home.”
Death watched them go, and kept smiling, because Death always smiles.