Aziraphale: Will you finally talk to me, please? We don’t have time for this!

Crowley: You still haven’t told me why you did what you did.

Muriel: Ouch! Sorry!

Aziraphale: I rather think I have.

Liv: No, I’m sorry, that was my elbow.

Crowley: (bitter) So you keep saying.

Muriel: No, no, that was my hip being in the way! You’re trying to type a description for the video-thing and I’m taking up so much space.

Locksley: We’re three adult fellas in the back of a car that probably remembers being a horse carriage. I think we’re taking up as little space as we can.

Liv: Just sit back, and I’ll-

The camera lifts from where we could only see the back of a car-seat and two jeans-clad legs ending in a pair of sneakers. As it pans upwards, we see… the upper portion of a car seat with some red hair behind it – of someone stiffly staring straight ahead (and thereby away from the camera). To the left, we see the profile of a weary looking man with ruffled white-blonde hair. Mr. Fell – only, that’s not really his name, is it? Aziraphale.

Aziraphale is back.

Aziraphale: (giving the camera a weak smile) How do you get on with my mobile phone?

Liv: I’m surprised it doesn’t have a rotary dial attached to it, but somehow Youtube Studio is running. You know. After you looked at the phone sternly and told it to behave.

Aziraphale: That’s nice, dear.

He looks tired. His eyes leave Liv’s and wander around for a bit, before they land on Crowley’s hand on the gear shift next to Aziraphale’s thigh. The angel lifts his own palm in its direction before he catches himself, curls it into a fist and puts it back down on his thigh.

The silence drifting on the wave-like roar of the engine feels uncomfortably thick all of a sudden.

Liv: (unnaturally bright in tone) SO! You must be very happy to have Mr. Fell back, Mr. Crowley.

The red hair behind the seat does not move.

Liv: … And we have really nice weather with all the… (She and the camera both look out of the window for a moment.) …looming, red clouds that are completely blocking out the sun.

Muriel: Oh, that’s normal for the end of the world!

Liv: Nice backdrop for a reunion. Isn’t it? Nice? That you see each other again before we all… uh…

Locksley: How ‘bout we stop talking for a little while?

Liv: …

Crowley: (in a sudden fit of movement, as if they had always been in the middle of a conversation) We could have avoided all this, you know?

He sounds accusatory.

Aziraphale: I tried to avoid all of this! I wanted you to help me! I wanted us to avoid this together because that’s the only way I seem to be halfway competent! All I ever accomplished was when I stood beside you but you refused to come with me because your vendetta against Heaven is mo-

Crowley: (reeling back like he has been slapped) My “vendetta”?! You know what they’ve done to me!

Aziraphale: To us, Crowley! What they’ve done to us!

Crowley: Oh, come off it! As if you actually see it that way!

Aziraphale: What is that supposed to mean?

Crowley: “You’re the bad guys.” Remember? That’s what you said when you left. “You are the bad guys.” Not “they”. “You”.

At this, Aziraphale starts to look a little carsick. The Bentley flies by dilapidated buildings that used to make London look indestructible only weeks ago.

Aziraphale: I didn’t- I didn’t mean that.

Crowley: I thought we were on our own side.

Aziraphale: We were! We are! Crowley, I’m so sorry. That must have slipped out because of all those years that we’ve… (He drifts off.)

Crowley: …that you’ve chosen Heaven as your only allegiance.

Aziraphale: And I hate myself for how long it took me to not do that anymore.

He does sound like it’s true. Like he hates himself.

Aziraphale: (cont.) And I hate them for making me scared to choose my heart over them.

Crowley is quiet and keeps his eyes on the road. He’s driving way too fast, but there is no traffic and no traffic police, and the world is ending in a few minutes, so even if he kills them all, it’s probably okay.

Aziraphale: I know what they’ve done to you has left deep scars. But I have them too. Mine are just less visible.

Crowley: It’s not the same.

Aziraphale: No. No, it isn’t. But don’t think for a second that I don’t also hate them for what they’ve done to me.

Crowley: (snorts) You can hate?

Aziraphale: Oh yes. I’ve always hated them for what they’ve done to you. I just had… a lot of other feelings about them, too. And those were what was standing in my way.

Crowley: Love?

Aziraphale: Love. Obligation. Helplessness. And fear. In the end mostly fear.

There’s a pause, but it’s less choking than the ones before.

Crowley: I sometimes think that what they’ve done to you is so much worse than what they’ve done to me.

Aziraphale: I don’t think there’s a scale to measure the hurt they caused to you or me. (He takes a shaky breath in.) But it certainly wasn’t easy for me, what they did. I missed you. All those millennia on Earth, even while we were together – I’ve missed you. Nothing felt like it was meant for me, like I was meant to even exist, with my thoughts and my emotions and my inadequacies. And then there was you, and when I stood beside you, the jagged, odd sides of my puzzle-piece of a life suddenly slotted into a place I had given up hope existed.

Crowley: Angel…

Aziraphale: And that’s why I needed you by my side for this. For when I went back up there, where I was too grey to blend in with all the white, where I was afraid they could make me believe again that what we fought for was wrong. I needed the reassurance – the reminder what it feels like to be right. But instead I was back to missing you. I missed you so much, Crowley. I missed you! I needed you! I lo- (He cuts himself off.)

Crowley: You…?

Aziraphale: (flatly) We’re here.

He looks out of the window, where the Bentley is breezing straight towards a whale. The street sign that flits by too fast to read starts with a “W”.

Liv: (again too light in tone, as if they hadn’t just had an entire marriage therapy session in front of her) Would you look at that, it’s my stop, I guess I’ll have to get out of the car now, you two can stay here, no rush, just let me-

Crowley: You were about to say something.

Aziraphale: Later.

Crowley: Angel, this is the end of the world. There might not be a later.

Aziraphale: Well, from what I gather, you were quite adamant that you didn’t want to be told what I was about to say in a “Yelp review.” (He uses finger-quotes.) And I don’t want you to have another “crash-out” (Again.) because I said it on camera. Which I didn’t, by the way. Say, I mean. In a Yelp review. Context matters, Crowley.

The Bentley finally comes to a stop in front of the huge animal that has no business being on a street in the middle of London: Behind the whale is a coffee shop, a vinyl shop and a bookshop, and something that feels like destiny.

Crowley: Didn’t say what?!

Aziraphale: We’ll talk after.

Crowley: Again: The world is about to end! We can’t talk after!

Aziraphale: Well then…

Crowley: Yes?

Aziraphale: (huffs) …you’d better come up with something clever, or I’ll never talk to you again, will I now?

The angel squares his shoulders and gets out of the car.

Crowley: (taking a deep breath in and out through his nose – then, angrily:) Guess we’d really better save the bloody world, then, won’t we?

Crowley folds himself out of the driver’s door, hip first, in a fashion that human flexibility should not allow.

Liv: (whining) Can we stay in here for a little while longer?

Locksley: Just a second ago, ya couldn’t get out of the car fast enough.

Liv: That was because I was caught on the worst episode of “Married… with Children” imaginable.

Muriel: Could you please get up? Only – I really need to talk to Michael about this-

Liv: Oh god! I forgot you’re trapped in between us for a moment. You were so quiet this entire time.

Muriel: I don’t like Aziraphale and Crowley fighting.

Liv: Yeah, my parents had a phase where they separated, too.

Muriel: But they won’t be fighting much longer.

Locksley: Because we’ll all die?

Muriel: Because Crowley finally wants to forgive Aziraphale. I can tell he’s trying! That’s why he’s pushing him for answers.

Liv: Really? That’s sweet…

Muriel: (cont.) And because we’ll all die in a bit.

Liv: Aaaaand there goes the sweetness.

Liv gets out of the car – at least judging by the noises – followed by Muriel and Mr. Locksley. As they round the whale, Crowley and Aziraphale come into view again, the latter being wrapped in a bear hug from Maggie.

Maggie: Oh, Mr Fell! We were so worried about you!

Behind them, an entire bookshop’s worth of people are squaring up to a very cross looking Shax.

Shax: I will throw all of you to the Hellhounds!

Crowley: (casually) Hello Shax!

Shax: You! Are you here to protect your precious human pets again?

Crowley: Oh! No, I’m here to register your complaint!

Shax: Really?

Crowley: Oh, yeah! (He is nodding a nod so exaggerated, his head is moving in a circle.)

Shax: (sounding unsure) …Sarcasm again?

Maggie: Sorry about her. We really couldn’t keep her longer.

Nina: Oh, no, we could have. She would’ve just killed us, but she’d still be locked in there with our bodies.

Aziraphale: Well, best not to, then. (He pats Maggie on the back awkwardly before he extricates himself from her.)

Shax: You will rue the day you thought you could capture me! Where is my legion?!

Crowley: You had, at best, one 75^th of a legion.

Shax: (screaming) Shut up! Not you, too!

Anathema: So I take it the plan worked?

Crowley: Obviously. Was planned by a professional, after all.

Aziraphale: What plan?

Nina: There was a plan to use a book to find out where you are and then use that knowledge to find you later.

Crowley: I don’t like your tone. What are you implying?

Nina: That your plan evidently did not work.

Crowley: So “later” turned out to be two minutes later, what’s your point?

Muriel: But we never even found the book!

Liv: Well, he threw his hands up and then suddenly, the book and Mr. Fell appeared in the bandstand; and in the next moment, we were running away from an old man.

Aziraphale: Right! You didn’t stop. I wonder if the recording did…

Newt: I don’t want to cut the celebration short, but… (He points several times with his index finger towards Shax. Not by moving his hand, but by bending his finger at the joints.) What do we do with the angry lady now?

Shax: Where! Are! My! Demons?!

Crowley: I’m pretty sure they’re on their way here by now.

Old man, whom we heard screaming on the other live stream before: Where is ma Jezebel?

Crowley: Leading one 75^th of a legion of demons here. Aren’t you listening?

Aziraphale: That sweet woman is doing what now?

Shax: (moving threateningly towards the group) I will-

Old man: Ye will dae nothing, ye face-snatcher, or ye will wetness the pow’r o ma finger!

He extends his right arm towards the angry demon lady and points at her.

Aziraphale: Mr Shadwell, this isn’t-

Shax: (stops advancing) What are you doing?

Shadwell: A will blow ye t’ smithereens!

Shax: (taking a cautious step back) What curse is this, this time?

Anathema: Curse?

Shax: These… these “Witchfinders” or how you called them-

Crowley: Oh, you’ve already introduced yourselves to her, how nice.

Mr. Crowley throws the entire group of humans a look that reads “what the hell have you been doing” – and honestly? Valid.

Shax: (eyes darting in between Newt and Mr Shadwell for a second; cont.) -what curse does this one’s finger have?

Anathema: Right. Because Newt’s finger-

Newt: My finger doesn’t do any-

Anathema clamps a hand over his mouth before he can continue.

Anathema: (cont.) -Newt’s finger is powerful enough to seal the coffee-shop door so tightly that even a demon as powerful as you can’t escape. And he’s only a Witchfinder Private.

Newt: (muffled against her hand) Ex-Witchfinder Private.

Anathema: You don’t want to see what a Witchfinder Sergeant can do with his finger!

Shax: You don’t scare me!

She sounds a little scared.

Shadwell: A have kelled many a wetch en ma time with this finger, lassie!

Newt: (prying Anathema’s hands from his face) Have you? How many?

Shadwell: …It may have ben a one-diget number.

Anathema: Zero is a one digit number.

Crowley: (with a deep sigh) Alright, let the adults talk. (He pushes past Mr Shadwell and crosses his arms at Shax.) What do you want up here, anyway? I know upstairs can’t wait to “pass judgement” or whatever, but why are you here?

Shax: To stop them, of course.

Crowley: (raising his eyebrows) Really? And might I interest you in a – very, very temporary – alliance?

Shax: … Fine. (She nods curtly, side-eyes Shadwell and sidesteps away from him and closer to Crowley.) Hand over the chatterbox, then?

Crowley: The what now?

Shax: That annoying human they keep sending out to “save” humanity. (Not only does she use air-quotes for this word, she also rolls her eyes and retches a little while saying it.) You know, the one who always tells stories and parables and all that holier-than-thou nonsense.

An unshaven man with chin-long, black, shaggy hair steps out of the group of people, still wearing rainbow-colored shutter-shades and his self-made skateboard necklace. It’s the bookshop’s carpenter from the live-stream: Jezzy. He shoves the shades to the top of his head and reveals soft, brown eyes that compliment his brown skin.

Jezzy: Yo, sick! I dig parables! Can I meet that dude?

Crowley: (looking first at Jezzy, then back to Shax) Right. You want him to… do what with him?

Shax: To kill him, of course! They can’t keep re-corporating him forever! I know how inane the bureaucracy is up there!

Jezzy: Aw, man! He sounds rad, why’d’you wanna off that guy?

Shax: (shaking her head at Jezzy and rolling her eyes again) Ugh! Humans! (to Crowley) See? He’s hardly worth the hassle to keep around. If we kill him, that will at least stall those life-sized Christmas tree ornaments.

Crowley turns his entire body around and looks at Jezzy, contemplating. Then he looks, for some reason, at Adam and Warlock, who are standing amongst the humans in front of the bookshop (suspiciously close for two boys who recently claimed to be each others’ arch-nemesis).

Maggie: You can’t be seriously thinking about letting her kill Jezzy!

Jezzy: Me? Whoa, wait, we talking about me? Aw, bummer, I already met me. Would’ve been bussin’ to meet someone who slaps.

Adam: You slap!

Jezzy: Aw, thanks, bro. Not really, though. Givin’ myself the ick about this whole judgement-thing.

Nina: How about you don’t do it, then? You don’t have to!

Jezzy: That’d be low-key rad but I think that’s cap. Don’t really have a choice.

Newt: You don’t?

Shax: So, what is it, Crowley? Truce?

Crowley: Nyeeegh…

He rolls his entire body instead of just his eyes, outshining even Shax in frustration.

Jezzy: Hey, man, like… Just do it?

Aziraphale: You are aware they’re talking about killing you, Yeshua, aren’t you?

Jezzy: Yeah, ‘s a bit savage, but like, it would mean I don’t have to end the world ‘n’ shit.

Crowley: Yeeeeeeeah, that settles it, then. (He looks up with a heavy sigh, nods, and then turns back to Shax.) There you have it. (He gestures at Jezzy with an exasperated, flapping hand.) The answer’s no.

Shax: (pulling her head back a little in surprise) No?! He just told you to do it!

Crowley: That’s just it, isn’t it? That’s always the trouble with humans. You put them in a garden, and you add a fruit tree and a big “Hands off!”-sign and they just… go and eat it. Barely had to do anything! I was just asking if she’d seen it, honestly.

Aziraphale: I do sometimes wonder… (He smiles wistfully.) …if you did good thing and I did the bad one, there.

Shax: What does that have to do with anything?!

Crowley: He’s fated to end the world. (He points his thumb over his shoulder at Jezzy.)

Aziraphale: And he just told us to kill him, just so he doesn’t have to.

Crowley: ’s free will, isn’t it?

Aziraphale: It was an active choice he made. Against his fate.

Jezzy: No, no, no! You guys don’t get it! I don’t have that! ‘m not like them! (He gestures at the rest of the crowd.)

Adam: Aren’t you?

Aziraphale: You were made human, though. She very specifically made you human, as a- as a parable.

Jezzy: Yeah, no cap, but they made me human with a purpose, ‘n’ that kinda hits different.

Adam: And? They did the same to me!

A young woman next to Adam: Yeah, and Adam decided not to kill us.

A young man at her side: And not to end the world, actually.

Another young man: Even if he kinda wanted to at first!

Young woman: Shush! He didn’t, though!

Adam: Yeah, can we maybe focus on that?

Young man #2: I’m just saying, you wanted to replace our parents and all. With your weird motorcycle friends.

Adam: That’s not-

Young man #1: Actually, I think he meant to make us new parents.

Young woman: Who cares! We’re here now, and so are our parents!

Adam: Yeah, exactly! Thanks, Pepper! Everyone’s still here because of me and my choice!

Young woman, who is apparently called Pepper: To be fair, more like ‘despite you’.

Adam: Whose side are you three on?!

Warlock: We’re all still here because this idiot made the choice to say ‘fuck you’ to his purpose and decided to live his own life.

Adam: Yes! Thank you, Warlock!

Warlock: (cont.) Which was a stupid-ass decision, and if I had been the Antichrist-

Pepper: Yes, we get it! Now do you want to be a member of the Them? Because if you do, I suggest you shut up!

Crowley: (the corner of his mouth twitching upwards) A member of “the Them”, huh? What happened to being mortal enemies?

Warlock: It’s easier to destroy your enemies from within. You taught me that.

Aziraphale: (doubtfully) Did he? (He turns to Crowley.) I assume that was a whole load of “do as I say but not as I do”, then?

Crowley: Oh, shut up, angel! Don’t think you’re getting off the hook for the whole Heaven-thing by a technicality.

Warlock: Right. What were we talking about?

Jezzy: Free will, I guess.

Crowley: (to Shax) Which humans have. So whether Skaterboy likes it or not, the possibility of choice is his cross to bear now.

Jezzy: (flinching) Can you not?

Friend of Pepper and Adam: He doesn’t like crosses.

Shax: I will just have to do it by myself, if you’re such a coward! (She raises her hand.)

Shadwell: (still pointing, though it looks like his arm is getting tired) Oh, na ye dinnae! Dae ye think ye can take on all of us? Ye an whit army?

A flashmob of amphibian-hosts and other grimy looking people in dark clothes round the corner right behind her. They are led by someone who looks an awful lot like Shax, even though she’s just a human that we watched be made-up with some lip-liner and a few black leather belts.

Crowley: (to Shadwell) You just had to ask, didn’t you?

Shax: There you are, you rotten bunch of deserters!

Hastur: Two Shax?!

Furfur: Pah! Who is this preposterous-looking mimicker? (He turns to Shax.) Do you think that ridiculous get-up can fool us?

Shax: (snarling) Don’t think I won’t rake you over the coals!

Furfur: (dreadful, turning to Tracy) Eeerrr, that does sound an awful lot like you, Shax…!

Tracy: I’m ever so sorry, dearie, but I’ve got to… (She rushes over to the crowd of humans and the old man holding his – now cramping – index-finger like a gun.) …step over here for a second. It was ever so nice meeting you, though!

Furfur: Uuuuh…

Shax: (managing to hiss words that don’t even contain s-sounds) You’ll get your hiding later! Now… (She turns around again so quickly, her short hair whips around her face.) I will first get rid of you two meddlers and your annoying human zoo! Say goodbye to your ‘saviour’ first!

Jezzy: Bummer, I hadn’t even learnt to do a rail stand in the half-pipe without breaking my arm yet.

Shax: Ugh. Die!

Voice: And what do you think you’re doing?

It’s a sudden, cold voice that sounds displeased in the way the Queen sounded British.

As the camera turns around alongside Liv, a second crowd of newcomers becomes visible, arriving from the opposite side of the street. These are clad in various shades of white and look just as pissed off as the other guys.

 

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