neutral_omens | (no subject)

Entry tags:

aziraphale,
ellie

(no subject)

Date: September 23, 2000
Setting: Manor Library
Status: Private - Ellie, Aziraphale (Complete)
Summary: Ellie is concerned.

She'd got the news from John, and had reamed him soundly for not informing her right away. Apparently he'd assumed the angel would come running straight to her and hadn't troubled himself about it further, which just went to show what a thoughtless clod the man could be. Although the fact that Aziraphale hadn't come to her was both worrisome and a bit hurtful. She hated to think of him all alone right now.

The obvious place to start when looking for Aziraphale was the library, and sure enough, when Ellie came to the door, she found it shut and locked. Has he been in here all this time? she wondered, surprised nobody had complained about the closed library in...what would it be, five days now?

"Aziraphale?" she called softly, rapping on the heavy wooden door. "Are you in there? It's Ellie. Hello?"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Ellie frowned as the moments ticked by without a response, then shut her eyes, cautiously extending her senses past the door to determine whether the place was actually empty.

Shit-- she hastily withdrew second later. Yeah, he was in there all right. The aura of a Principality didn't pack quite the same wallop as an archangel's, but it could still sting when he wasn't making any particular attempt to keep it in check.

"Aziraphale?" she called a bit more loudly. "Honey, are you all right in there? Please open the door! Or at least answer..."

Still nothing, and at this point worry began to mingle with irritation. If the blessed angel was determined to hide himself away and sulk, well, more power to him, but she wasn't going to leave until he'd at least acknowledged her presence. She refused to be ignored.

"All right then, if that's how we're going to do this," she muttered, and promptly kicked the door, hard. It didn't break--which hadn't been her intent, anyway--but it made a nice satisfying bang that would, she thought, be very difficult to ignore.

"Aziraphale!" she bellowed, landing another blow with her fist that made the door and its frame groan in protest. "Wake up in there! You unlock this door right now or so help me, I am going to come through it closed, do you hear? OPEN UP!"

The angel didn't hear the calling, but he did hear the bang, which was loud enough to make him nearly - nearly, mind - knock over the cup of tea.

Rising from his position by the window, one knee cracking, Aziraphale went to the door, through which a muffled but most decidedly pissed off voice could be heard. "Ellie, my dear?" he called, unlocking and cracking open the door to peer at the annoyed succubus.

"Why, what on earth is the matter? Is-is Crowley hurt? Did something happen? Is he all right?" The angel opened the door wider, looking past her worriedly. "Ellie, what is it?"

"I assume he's still miserable, and possibly stoned," Ellie said irritably, standing arms akimbo and looking Azriaphale up and down, "but he should be all right otherwise. John's looking after him, to the tune of some very high-quality controlled substances, last I heard. You're the one I'm worried about. Have you been shut up in here this whole time? Look at this--" she fussily brushed dust off the shoulders of the angel's suit, trying without a great deal of success to hide her dismay at the state he was in, "--you look a fright, have you slept at all? Or eaten anything...?"

With an effort, she forced herself to stop clucking and instead gripped him gently by the upper arms, giving the impression of shaking him without actually doing so. "Why the hell didn't you tell me, you silly, addle-headed angel?"

"Stoned? In this day and age, how on earth did-" he stopped himself with great effort. From the casual tone, and the bitter phrasing of "very high-quality controlled substances" Aziraphale couldn't imagine anything to be wrong. Perhaps it was slang; but he didn't pretend to understand, and let it alone.

The angel flinched, then looked fully atEllie, deeply, and tears began to shimmer in his eyes. "Oh, my dear," he breathed, quietly, the expression he'd worn all week cracking to reveal a mask of grief.

"Oh," Ellie said, and hugged the angel tightly. "I'm sorry. There, please don't cry. I didn't mean to yell. I just can't believe it. Who would tell such a horrible lie about you?" It never crossed her mind for an instant that it could be anything other than a lie; if Aziraphale was in any way, shape or form attracted to females, she would sense it, and she never had. "And how on earth could Crowley believe it? Stupid ass." That was said without rancor, however; John hadn't told her much, but his expression when he'd spoken about Crowley had told her a great deal he perhaps hadn't intended.

A moment slid by, as Aziraphale tried to breathe, and then great, shuddering sobs began to shake him, and he closed his eyes, tears coming and tracking down his cheeks, leaning against the smaller succubus. Any other would have found it ridiculous, and Aziraphale tried himself to stem the hot flow of tears, but he only- he only kept thinking about Crowley, and Crowley's hair, and sunglasses, and damned smirk, and the Bentley, and Chicago, and...

"It's not just- it's not just that," he choked, turning his face away and fumbling for his checkerboard handkerchief to wipe the salty tears away. "It's everyth- oh, fuck," and he clung to her, no doubt dampening anything she was wearing. He'd miracle it dry in a moment, he just needed but a moment...

Oh, and they were still in the hall. The angel made a monumentous effort to pull himself together, and stepped back, still dabbing at his eyes. "Oh, I'm sorry," he said helplessly, and then tried for a smile. "Would- would you like a cup of tea, or a biscuit? Anything? I- ignore my hysteria, my dear, I was overcome..."

Ellie let Aziraphale cling and cry, struck by the surreal quality of the situation, but willing to play this role for him if it would help. It had been a long time since she'd had a double armful of golden-haired angel, she thought, a pang of old grief rising for a moment to echo this new one that burdened her friend.

"Shush, now. I don't need anything," she murmured when he had collected himself, pushing the library door open and tugging him gently inside. "But you should. You'll feel better. Come sit down and tell me about it."

Aziraphale nodded, handkerchief still at his eyes, and allowed himself to be led in and sat down, miracling the door shut rather than bothering to close it himself.

He gestured vaguely to the long-cold cup of tea in the corner.

"How long?" he asked, finally, studying his hands.

"About five days," Ellie said, banishing the old cup with a wave and handing Aziraphale a steaming-hot replacement with a plate of warm scones. "Eat," she added firmly, adding several pots of jam, curd and Devon cream. "I don't know why you people always seem to think neglecting yourselves will help."

He took the plate more out of a fear of Ellie's wrath if he didn't than any great desire for the scones. "Thank you." His cheeks were red, as if he had emotion left to feel sheepish.

"People?" Aziraphale's cherubic mouth curled up wryly. "I'm hardly a people, my dear." He debated adding that he wasn't quite sure he was an angel anymore, either, although it still made him twitch a bit to think of the possibility.

"Figuratively speaking," Ellie said with a faint smile. "You don't have to stay up here, you know, even if you don't want to go back to your own room. If Adam can't find you a free space, you could come and stay with me." That would be an interesting arrangement, to be sure, but given Aziraphale's proclivities she thought it could probably be worked out with a minimum of awkwardness.

Aziraphale blinked.

Well, this is truly unexpected, he thought, watching her curiously, until he realized (somewhat abruptly) that he was expected to give an answer.

"It sounds lovely," he said, contemplating the idea of sleeping in the next few weeks. While he technically didn't need to, he'd been rather firmly in the habit for some time. "I'm certain I'll find something, my dear. Thank you."

But there was something he'd wanted to speak to Ellie about, Ellie and Gabriel both, wasn't there? And while she was here... "I've been meaning to ask you about something, actually, while I've got you. When Gabriel- did he have any news for you? About...?"

Ellie looked away, pushing her hair back behind her ears in a suddenly nervous gesture. "Oh. Yes, he...had quite a bit to say, actually." She cleared her throat, not really wanting to go into this right now, but maybe it would provide a brief distraction for the angel. "Apparently the--she--was kept alive. Imprisoned. But they seem to have lost track of her." She glanced at Aziraphale, unable to keep her anxiety hidden. "There's a chance she may have been responsible for some...trouble...recently."

"She," the angel breathed, distracted for a moment. Ellie's daughter. The concept threw him for a moment - he couldn't help picture what could have been, what might be still, and there was a strong, paternal urge that followed, to help them both, overwhelming him for a moment.

"My dear," Aziraphale croaked, and touched her arm comfortingly, "why on earth didn't you say something before? Are you quite all right?"

Ellie gave him a strained smile. "Well. Apparently she--the person who's been stirring things up, that is, it may or may not be the same one--is very difficult to track down or follow. She runs from angels and demons, fights with strange powers when she's cornered, then drops out of sight. And she's got enough clout to stand up to Mictain and walk away in one piece. So I don't know how I'd find her, or what I'd do if I could." She rubbed absently at her arms.

"I'm not even sure if I should try," she added unhappily. "She'd have no idea who I am, and for all I know she might be better off on her own. It's bad enough Heaven wants to lock her back up in Limbo. She doesn't need the Wyrm Queen or the Morningstar out for her blood, too."

"We have our own enemies," he accepted, and pushed up the glasses that hadn't been there a moment ago.

"But perhaps they wouldn't mind a Principality? Particularly, after all, the one that Heaven's currently not speaking to regardless?" His frankness, Aziraphale hoped, would still get his point across. "At the very least, you have my promised help. Hardly the knight in shining white armour, I'm afraid, but perhaps I'll do."

"Thank you, Aziraphale dear," she said, bemused at the angel's capacity to concern himself with her troubles despite his own distress. The comment about Heaven was a bit alarming, however. "What do you mean, though? Have you been out of touch with Upstairs for long?"

"Long enough, my dear," he said finally, not wishing to worry her. There was a momentary pang as he realized it was more than a year, far more, and he quashed it before fear set in.

It was beginning to rain outside, and Aziraphale could hear rain against the window, which closed upon his awareness. "I am tired," he admitted, quietly, and crumbled a scone in his hands.

Ellie closed her hands gently around the angel's, taking what was left of the pastry and setting it aside, where it unobtrusively faded from existence. "Come and have a rest," she said softly, rising and coaxing him up after her with a small tug. "You can decide later what to do from there."

It took less than a moment for Aziraphale to nod, and stand. "Yes," he agreed, eyes gone slow and deeply blue as he stood, "Yes," looking at the pattering rain outside, and felt her small hands in his own soft ones.

The cup of tea and scones disappeared as he left them, the books temporarily neatened, and the library was left unlocked once they'd left. Aziraphale felt cold, when a breeze went by, but was slowly feeling the weight of exhaustion weigh on him.

Murmuring almost to himself, Aziraphale rambled, "Sleeping's an addiction, you know. You miss it when you can't have it - it affects mind, corporation..." He was led to bed, tucked in nearly as if he were a child, and promised, stubbornly, just before drifting off,

"I'll wean myself off it."

Ellie stayed by until she was sure the angel was comfortable and sleeping soundly, then extinguished the already-dimmed lights and left him to it. She'd never got in the habit of sleeping nightly for precisely the reasons Aziraphale cited, so he could have the bed. Any other business she might have in it could be addressed elsewhere, for the time being.

She really wanted to know who had started that rumor, and had a suspicion John was holding out on her on that count, for some reason. Trying to pry information out of that stubborn man was like extracting teeth. But if she couldn't find out one way, she'd find out another. It just might take some time.

And that was one thing Ellie possessed in abundance.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only