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Once, in Another Time

“It’s funny, that we never knew each other in Heaven.”
Aziraphale says it very casually one night, over dinner. It very nearly makes Crowley choke on his tiramisu.
Something very old aches in his chest, something like a memory he meant to forget. It is painful and raw.
“Thought we would’ve bumped into each other, you know?” Aziraphale continues nonchalantly.
“I wish you’d remember.”
The words, bitter on his tongue, because he certainly remembers. He remembers every moment, every glance across the halls. He can still see the Principality bathed in Holy light, still hear his voice ringing in his ear as he tells him about the excellent job he did on the Sun.
“Remember what, dear?”

BEFORE THE BEGINNING

BEFORE THE FALL

“Ar—Archangel Raphael, erm, Gabriel sent me over, to, erm, to help with—“
Raphael turns to look at the angel before him. It is a Principality, very flustered and seemingly anxious. His hands are folded behind his back as if he is afraid of giving himself away.
“Aziraphale, right?” Raphael says, and the angel sighs in relief.
“Oh, you do know me, then,” he says breezily. “I—I thought maybe you’d be annoyed, working with a Principality and all—“
“Why would I be annoyed?” Raphael replies, eyebrows furrowing. “Just because you’re a Principality? We’re both angels, aren’t we? No point fussing about who’s holier than who.”
Aziraphale’s face breaks into a smile.
“Yes, yes I quite agree. Anyway, I was coming to help with the construction of a new nebula.”
“I’ve got big plans for this one,” Raphael says. “Could use an extra pair of hands. Come along then.”
Aziraphale follows easily.

“Did you make that one, Raphael?”
Aziraphale is talking about the sun. They are lounging around, because there is nothing better to do, and Raphael needs rest after his newest creation.
He and Aziraphale have gotten on rather well together. For one, Aziraphale isn’t a prat. Gabriel has really been getting in Raph’s nerves lately. All snappy.
“Yes, I call it the Sun. It’s a star.”
Aziraphale looks up at the great shining beacon above them. It is truly magnificent.
“Gorgeous,” he says. “Truly.”
“Thank you.”
If a blush steals into his cheeks, he doesn’t let it linger there.

“Y—yes Gabriel, I’ll get on that right away—“
“Remember, Aziraphale. Always be better than last time.”
Aziraphale nods, not meeting his eyes, and hastily attends to his task.
“You should be nicer to him,” Raphael says, irritated. Gabriel doesn’t even spare him a look.
“Aziraphale needs to sort out his priorities,” he says coldly. “Perhaps you do as well, Brother Raphael.”
Raphael only looks sourly away.

“Perhaps when the Almighty finishes with the Earth, we’ll get to work together,” Aziraphale says brightly.
“Maybe,” Raphael says. He doesn’t say it, but he would like very much if he was allowed to see Aziraphale more. Perhaps he’d even put in a request to the Almighty.

“I am sick of this place,” Lucifer tells him.
“Me too,” he says, a bit boredly. “But hey, that’s life, innit? I’m gonna go, I’ve got things to do.”

“Raphael, what is your…you know. Your Heavenly Gift? I’ve heard that Archangels have them.” Aziraphale’s hand is in his. He’s not sure when it got there, but it’s there. He likes how it feels—soft, correct. Like it’s very much meant to be there.
“Healing, and Love,” he tells him sincerely.
“Oh, well that does rather well suit you,” Aziraphale says cheerfully. He lifts Raphael’s hand and presses a kiss to his knuckles.
He can feel himself slipping.

“You are forgetting your place, Raphael.”
He is shaking with anger. He could smite Gabriel, if smiting other angels was proper. He can feel heat spreading through his whitened knuckles.
“Seems to me you’re forgetting yours.”
“You’ve been dabbling in things you do not understand, Raphael. I have spoken to the Almighty about it.”
“You spoke to Metatron, you mean.”
“Be careful what you say. There are others in the Bad Books right now. I’d hate to see you there too.”

There is something in his chest that keeps blossoming.
Please, show me the way.

“Something big’s going to happen, I think.”
“Raph—“
“I don’t have much time, Aziraphale.”
“Don’t say that!”
“I love you.”

Burning. Burning. He is closing his eyes. He is listening to the wind enveloping his body. There is agony.
He is praying.
There is no answer.

He doesn’t like his new name.
He doesn’t like anything about Hell—he isn’t like these people. He isn’t evil.
“Forget Heaven,” Beelzbub tells him. “They rejected us. We have only each other now.”

When earth is created, he silently hopes he will be chosen to be sent down. If he prays about it, he’s not sure if it really counts.
If it does, it works.

When he first sees the angel of the eastern gate, his heart stops for about a minute before he remembers it must beat again.
He finishes the temptation of Eve swiftly—it was easy, in any case. She already wanted to eat the apple, just needed a second opinion.
As soon as he does it, he loses a bit of Faith.

He decides to make his approach straight forward, even funny. Aziraphale is standing on the wall and watching the entrance a bit nervously.
He slithers up the bricks, still a snake. When he reaches the top, he decides to morph back. He stretches his wings, and waits for the angel to say something.
He doesn’t.
“Well that went down like a lead balloon,” Crawly says instead. Aziraphale looks at him—and he hopes, desperately, for that moment of recognition to flutter across his features.
It doesn’t.
“Sorry?” he says, instead of, “Raphael!”
Crawly’s heart breaks.

For the next 6,000 years, he falls in love all over again. It’s swift, and easy, and he wishes Aziraphale could do the same.
The Almighty must have wiped his memories of him after he fell.
But that doesn’t matter.
Because they make new memories, and Aziraphale must remember something, because he truly believes Crowley has a good heart, truly believes he is kind.
And it’s one of the reasons Crowley loves him—because he’s always believed in him.
So when Aziraphale softly says, “Remember what, dear?”
He replies, “Nothing, Angel. Why don’t we go back to yours?”
Because they have more time yet.

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Once, in Another Time