Of The Many Lies and The One Truth Ch1
Aziraphale has had to tell many lies over the millennia. It was the only way to keep him and Crowley safe.
Five of the lies Aziraphale had had to tell over the Millennia and the one time he was free to tell the full truth.
First Lie: 4004 B.C., Just after the beginning.
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It was over. Eden was ruined. The humans fell to temptation, angered the Lord, and were gone. Banished.
Satan had gotten what he wanted, doomed humanity to a life of pain and misery.
Aziraphale stood by himself in what once was heaven on earth, blanketed by a feeling he didn’t know or understand yet.
Crawley had already left, and with no Eve or Adam to talk to anymore either, Aziraphale couldn’t help but feel…
He didn't know what it was that he felt.
Now that there were no humans left in Eden, Aziraphale was in the middle of closing the gate in the eastern wall as he was tasked to do, feeling melancholic and wondering if he would be seeing Adam and Eve ever again.
While he hadn’t known them for long, not really, he had grown quite fond of the two. It was unfortunate that they had chosen to disobey the one order they had been given and to take a bite of the apple, but alas, it is what it is, no amount of lamenting and grieving could change the past.
Eve was pregnant when she left, and Aziraphale couldn’t help but worry for her.
He had given them his sword with the hope that it would keep them safe while he couldn’t.
He couldn’t help but wonder about that demon as well, his mind still hung on him and how familiar he had looked. That demon… Wasn’t he…?
He was still caught up in his thoughts when a bright light shone down upon him from above, and Aziraphale gasped, dropping the brick he had been holding.
“Aziraphale, Guardian of the Eastern Gate,” A disembodied yet familiar voice called.
“Yes, Lord?” Aziraphale replied meekly, his hand shielding his eyes from the bright light.
“Well done, Aziraphale, you’ve done well.” The voice praised.
“T- Thank you, Lord,” Aziraphale stammered, fidgeting with his sleeve, not used to being praised, and feeling guilty and concerned about a certain lost object being mentioned.
“Keep up the good work, Aziraphale,”
“Yes, Lord,” Aziraphale mentally breathed a sigh of relief.
“Wait,” The voice suddenly said. “Where is the flaming sword I gave you?” The voice asked. “To protect the Eden?” It added, as if needed elaboration as to which sword it spoke of.
Despite the fact that Angels didn’t sweat, having turned the glands for it on their assigned corporations off a long time ago, finding it gross and assigning it as something only humans and those who were damned should have to experience, Aziraphale found himself sweating, his heart, which is for all intents and purposes merely decorative, squeezed in his chest.
Here it was, the question he had been fearing.
The Fall he had been fearing.
“Sword? Right,” He twisted the fabric of his tunic nervously. "Um... Uh… Big, sharp, cutty thing.
Yes.” Aziraphale laughed nervously. “Uh… Oh, must have, uh… Must have put it down here somewhere.” He glanced off to his right as if the swords were somewhere around there. “Um… Forget my own head next."
The voice merely hummed before the light disappeared.
Aziraphale slid down until he knelt on the ground, trembling, his fingers dug in the sand.
“Oh, dear…” He croaked, breathing a sigh of relief.
First Crawley and no the Almighty...
He groaned, hoping that the sword would never be brought up again. He didn’t think he could handle that level of anxiety ever again.
Probably discorporate on the spot from fretting alone, knowing how capable of a fretter he was, he would probably discorporate from the fretting before anyone even got to punishing him for foolishly giving the gift the Lord had gifted him away.
He released a shaky breath and forced himself to relax.
Now, he had to make sure that no one asked him about it again.
