A/N: I didn't intend for this fic to have so many feels when I started writing it, but... these things happen. Thank you all again for giving this story so much love, and enjoy an extra-long final chapter!

Part 3

"Of course it's him!" Crowley hissed, standing and beginning to pace next to the couch.

"Now, dear, we can't be certain it's the same child," Aziraphale said, though his tone betrayed the fact that he didn't believe his own words.

"Oh yeah?" Crowley stopped mid-step and twisted on his heel to point a finger at Warlock. "Hellspawn, any idea where this Adam Young grew up?"

"Uh..." Warlock frowned, trying to remember what he'd considered an insignificant detail amidst all the facts he'd learned about his roommate during the past few months they'd lived together. He was also very curious as to why Aziraphale and Crowley were suddenly freaking out at the mention of Adam's name. "I think it was, like, a little town in the countryside? Tedfield, maybe?"

"Tadfield?" Aziraphale supplied.

"Yeah, that's it."

"Called it, Angel!" Crowley exclaimed. He placed one hand on the back of Aziraphale's chair and the other on the armrest, leaning towards the angel conspiratorially. "That can't be a coincidence, don't you think?"

"Part of the Ineffable Plan?" Aziraphale questioned, gazing up at Crowley with a raised eyebrow.

The demon nodded. "Must be."

"Um, hey," Warlock interjected, and the pair instantly snapped their gazes to him. "Not to interrupt your conspiracy theories or whatever, but what does my roommate have to do with me not being the antichrist?"

"...Quite a lot, actually," Aziraphale responded after a moment, sparing another glance at Crowley. The demon pushed himself away from the chair and planted his hands on his hips.

"Alright, long story short-" He paused, making sure he had Warlock's undivided attention, as if the boy could even think about focusing on something else at that moment. "I brought the antichrist to a hospital run by satanic nuns about eighteen years ago, but there was a baby mix-up, sort of like what you'd see in those stupid prime-time dramas your mother would watch incessantly."

The demon sneered, reliving the many times he'd been required to watch Warlock because the child's mother was "busy" vegging herself out in front of sappy daytime television shows. Not that he ever minded taking care of the boy, of course, but it was the principle of the thing that bothered him.

"Anyway," he continued, sauntering over to the couch and sitting down. He leaned forward, arms resting on his knees with his body angled towards the boy who was staring at him with eyes as wide as saucers. "The baby mix-up happened- not my fault, blame the nuns- and we thought the antichrist was going home with the Dowling family. When the antichrist turned eleven, he was supposed to bring about Armageddon, and, well..."

"We'd grown rather attached to humanity, you see," Aziraphale chimed in, giving Warlock a soft smile. "So, Crowley and I made an arrangement-"

Warlock heard Crowley snort next to him and saw the demon's mouth twitch, unsuccessfully trying to hide a grin.

"We would look after the antichrist and give him equal doses of heavenly and hellish influences," Aziraphale continued. "Our hope was that he would grow up perfectly normal and, when the time came, would decide not to end the world."

"And... that kid was me," Warlock ventured, and Aziraphale nodded. "Wow. Shit, wow, that's- oops, sorry." Aziraphale had frowned at the curse, but Warlock noticed Crowley give him a subtle thumbs-up under the table where the angel couldn't see. Warlock let out a disbelieving sort of laugh, trying to process the true explanation behind his unnatural childhood. "So that's why you two always told me that stuff about me someday being the leader of the world? And gave me completely opposite advice on everything?"

"Yes," Aziraphale answered with a nod. He grimaced a little guiltily. "We're very sorry about that, dear boy; it must have confused you terribly."

"I got used to it after a while." Warlock shrugged. He took another sip of tea and was surprised to find it still perfectly warm. He stared at the cup pensively, and Crowley and Aziraphale remained silent, letting him sort out his thoughts.

"But... you said I'm not the antichrist," Warlock said eventually, looking from Aziraphale to Crowley. The demon shook his head.

"No, unfortunately, we got that part wrong," he admitted. "Baby swap, remember?"

"Although it worked out in the end, since the true antichrist was raised to be completely human, at least in the way he thinks and sees the world," Aziraphale chimed in, wanting to point out the positive side of things. He took a delicate sip of tea and smiled.

"Okay, well, that explains my bizarre childhood, I guess," Warlock said, slowly. "I mean, you know I'm gonna ask you both tons more about all this and, like, every memory I can think of, but I don't think my brain can handle reliving some of that stuff right now."

"Of course; you've been through a lot of emotional strain this afternoon," Aziraphale said, leaning forward to briefly take one of Warlock's hands and give it a reassuring squeeze. "From now on, you can give us a call anytime if you would like to speak to us- I'll give you the number of my bookshop, although I've heard you can find it online. Oh, and Crowley can give you his cell phone number!"

"Already done," Crowley said with a grin and a snap of his fingers.

Warlock reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, opening his contacts lists to find a new number in the address book under "Ashtoreth J. Crowley."

"Thanks!" Warlock said, grinning back at the demon. He was about to say something else, but at that moment a chime alerted the room that he'd received another text message. Crowley's lip curled as Warlock instinctively clicked on the message and began typing a reply.

"That boy knew exactly what he was doing, didn't he?" Aziraphale murmured, and Crowley responded with a roll of his eyes. Warlock paused his typing to look at the angel quizzically. "Oh, not you, Warlock; the boy I presume you are texting right now."

"Adam?" Warlock questioned, and Aziraphale nodded. When the angel failed to elaborate, Warlock shrugged and returned to his message. Then, suddenly, a wave of realization crashed over him so strongly that he dropped his phone into his lap with a small gasp.

"Oh dear," Aziraphale said, carefully setting his teacup down on the table.

"You said there was another baby," Warlock said quietly, his eyes growing wide again.

"Three, actually, but yeah." Crowley shrugged nonchalantly, though his face was wary, gauging the boy's reaction.

"And the baby that was really the antichrist went... somewhere else. Somewhere he wasn't supposed to be."

"Right."

"Like... a little town in the countryside called Tadfield?"

"Bingo."

Warlock's face paled. "You can't be serious."

"Crowley, maybe we should hold off on this part of the discussion for another day," Aziraphale said hesitantly, noting the boy's change in demeanor.

"Too late," Crowley replied with a shake of his head. "He's figured it out."

"Adam?!" Warlock exclaimed, his face screwed up in confusion. "You're telling me that Adam is the antichrist?!"

"Well...yes," Aziraphale admitted. Warlock looked from him to Crowley, who nodded.

"'Fraid so, hellspawn; you roommate is the Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast-"

"I believe he gets the idea!" Aziraphale cut off the demon and gestured to Warlock. "Look at the poor thing; as if learning about us wasn't enough of a shock!"

"You alright?" Crowley asked, cautiously, tempted to reach out and shake the boy out of his stuperous gaze. Warlock blinked slowly at him, shaking his head.

"There's no way," he said. "Adam is so... chill. Normal, I mean, not... trying to destroy the world or whatever."

"That's precisely the point," Aziraphale said calmly. He leaned across the table again and this time placed a hand on Warlock's knee, leaving it there. "Remember, because we focused on raising you- not that we minded, dear, you're a lovely boy and we wouldn't exchange our time with you for the world- Adam was raised without any divine or hellish influence. He grew up completely human, and therefore when it came time for him to end the world, he simply decided not to because he was raised to love it."

Warlock stared at the hand on his knee for a moment, then slowly rested his palm on top of it. He reached towards Crowley with his other hand, not necessarily expecting a response, but the demon instantly grasped Warlock's warm, slightly-sweaty palm within his own.

"Okay, we're gonna come back to the fact that my roommate is the literal antichrist," Warlock said, matter-of-factly. He paused, let out a huff of air. "But, for now, what I'm getting is that, because you spent eleven years with me... Adam was able to not let the world end?"

"Exactly," Aziraphale responded with a smile, giving Warlock's knee a squeeze.

"And so, in effect... I kinda helped saved the world, too, didn't I? I just... didn't know it."

Crowley and Aziraphale blinked at each other, stunned by the revelation.

"...I suppose you're right," Aziraphale said with a light nod. Crowley merely trained his gaze back onto the boy next to him, watching closely. Warlock was getting at something else, something that- and Crowley hoped this issue with verbal expression hadn't been his unintentional influence- the boy found hard to put into words.

"So... so then." Warlock swallowed, then cleared his throat. When he spoke again, there was a mild tremor in his voice. "So then, I do have a purpose, besides what my parents want for me. Er, well, I did."

"Come again, dear?" Aziraphale questioned, frowning. Crowley bristled with a flash of anger so intense it made the angel flinch, though he knew it wasn't directed towards anyone in the bookshop.

"I mean, since you guys left and my life wasn't special anymore, I… I didn't know what I was supposed to do," Warlock admitted slowly. "Nobody was telling me that I'd rule the world anymore- which, honestly, I didn't really believe but it was still a goal besides 'become a politician.' But… I didn't want to do that. I don't want to do that, but I have no idea what I am supposed to do if it's not what my parents want. And I can't make my parents focus on something else anymore when they start bothering me about it or change their mind or- well, I guess I never could anyway, right?"

Warlock glanced at Crowley, who grimaced through the poorly-composed hellish rage lurking in his expression. The demon couldn't believe that Warlock had grown up thinking like this and was mad at both the boy's distant parents and himself for leaving Warlock unchecked for so long.

"But now," Warlock continued, shifting his gaze to the old carpet. "Since Adam grew up normal because you two were busy with me, then I did have purpose other than... o-other than trying to live up to my parents' dumb expectations."

"Oh, my dear boy-"

"Of courssse you have a purpose!" Crowley hissed fiercely, cutting Aziraphale off, but the angel didn't bother pointing this out. Instead, he quietly took his hand back and sat up in his chair, knowing his place in the upcoming conversation was an observer, at least for a bit. Crowley grasped Warlock by the shoulders and looked into his eyes, his intense gaze boring through the sunglasses.

"You do have a purpose," Crowley continued, gripping the boy tightly. Warlock felt a twinge of uncomfortable pressure where the demon's nails pressed down, but he paid this no mind; his nanny had only gotten riled up like this a handful of times, and whenever this happened it was because Warlock needed to be told something very important. "Your purpose is to do whatever the hell you want with your life. You're not meant to live up to your parents horribly out-of-touch expectations of what you should be, and you definitely weren't meant to be some sort of 'distraction' from the antichrist, so don't start thinking that either!

"You're meant to be who you want to be, and don't you dare let anyone tell you what you can't do- essspecially your parents. Do you understand?"

Warlock nodded frantically, the constriction around his arms having grown tighter as Crowley spoke. He was afraid of losing circulation in his limbs when Crowley's suddenly hung his head, lessening his grip as well.

"...I would've taken you away from that place if I could, I want you to know that," the demon continued softly, staring hard at the floor. "Aziraphale and I, we would've... we talked about it a few times, just leaving with you and hoping you'd turn out alright. 'Course, we still thought you were the antichrist then, so..." The demon trailed off with a soft chuckle. He sat up, finally releasing Warlock's shoulders.

"What I'm trying to say is, we may be shit at it, but Angel and I are technically your godparents, so... from now on, if you ever need us, just give us a call, like Aziraphale said earlier. No more getting stuck in your own head and not having anyone to talk to. Got it?"

Warlock could only nod again, his vision hazy. When he'd set out to explore Soho this morning- after bidding the antichrist, apparently, goodbye-, he'd expected to maybe find a mysterious bookshop and, if he was lucky, spot the cryptid owner that resided within. What he found instead was something almost inconceivable. He'd found his former gardener, the man with the inexhaustibly sunny disposition who always lent a helping hand or listening ear when Warlock needed it. He'd found his former nanny, appearing quite different but still the same inside, her snark only improved (so Warlock thought) by the new accent.

But Warlock found something else, too. Or, really, he rediscovered it- a missing feeling he hadn't appreciated until it was gone, and he'd been left alone in a cold house with even colder parents. As the angel and demon wrapped themselves around him in a tight hug, for the first time in seven years he truly felt warm.

It was the feeling of safety-

"Don't worry, my dear boy, we'll always be here for you."

It was the feeling of reassurance-

"It's okay, hellspawn; we're not going to leave you again."

But most of all, it was the feeling of-

"We love you, Warlock," Aziraphale said, maneuvering one arm out of the embrace to gently cup the boy's face in his hand. The angel's smile shone through Warlock's hazy vision like the sun peeking through the rainclouds. "Truly, we do."

Then, suddenly, the sunlight disappeared as Warlock was tugged sideways and buried for the third time that day into a chest that smelled of an ever-burning fire, nanny, and home. The boy felt the low voice more than heard it say, "And don't you ever forget that. I mean it."

"Y-Yes, Nanny Ash," the boy choked out. His response was acknowledged by a firm squeeze from the demon and the angel's warm fingers brushing through his hair.

A moment later, Warlock was released and he sat up, wiping his eyes with his shirt collar before looking around to reassure himself that yes, this situation was really still happening and wasn't part of some crazy dream. Brother Francis had moved back to the plush armchair across the coffee table, gazing at him with a loving smile on his face. To his right was Nanny Ash, whose concerned frown slipped into a grin at Warlock's now-relieved expression.

"Uh… thanks," Warlock said awkwardly, looking down at his half-empty teacup. "I guess I still have some stuff to work through."

"Don't ever apologize for showing emotion, dearest," Aziraphale said, treating Warlock to an even brighter smile.

Warlock nodded and then reached for his phone where it had fallen onto the floor in the commotion of Crowley's aggressive speech. A notification that he had three messages from Adam lit up the screen.

"Alright, I can get around the fact that you two are an angel and demon," Warlock said, with a smirk that said his own ability to process that fact amazed him. "But Adam really doesn't seem like the son of Satan or whatever…"

"Technically, he isn't anymore," Aziraphale said, which prompted Warlock to raise an eyebrow. "Ah, I suppose that's a story for a future conversation."

"Facetime him," Crowley suddenly said, perking up and gesturing to the phone.

"What?" Warlock questioned.

"Facetime him." An eerie grin slid across the demon's face. "If he's so interested in your time at the bookshop, you should let him see for himself. Plus, I have something to say to that kid."

"Crowley, be ni- er, don't be too harsh on him," Aziraphale chided. Crowley merely rolled his eyes and gestured to the phone again, wordlessly asking Warlock to comply with his request.

"…Okay," Warlock said with a shrug. Whatever conversation was about to happen, he doubted it would be as emotional as the one he'd just had- if anything it would just be very weird. He sent a quick message to Adam simply saying Facetime? A few seconds later, the phone began to ring, and Warlock accepted the call.

"What's up?" Adam asked in a cheery voice as his grinning face and mop of curly blonde hair filled the screen. There was a glint of something in his eyes that Warlock couldn't quite place.

Demonic energy? He thought, then shook his head at the ridiculous notion. Out loud, he could only manage, "Uh, well…"

"You know exactly what's up," Crowley said, leaning close to Warlock in order to be in the phone camera's viewpoint. Adam's face lit up and he let out a hearty laugh.

"Hey, Crowley!" the boy said, and the demon let out a small hiss.

"Don't 'hey Crowley' me, you little monster- you ssset this up, didn't you?!"

"Absolutely no idea what you're talking about," Adam responded, shaking his head, though the grin on his face said the opposite.

"A little warning would have been nice is all, Adam," Aziraphale said, raising his voice to be heard from across the table. At this, Adam laughed again and gave up all composure of being unaware of the current situation.

"So, I guess my hunch was right," he mused, then addressed the boy holding the phone. "Warlock, are they just like you remembered?"

"Well, um… not exactly," Warlock admitted, finding it strangely easy to talk to Adam despite the dozens of questions racing through his mind. He realized that Adam always seemed to have this effect on him- even though he really hadn't known the boy for long, Warlock had opened up to him more than he'd ever thought he would over the past few months (hence the reason Adam found out about Warlock's unusual upbringing by his probably demonic nanny and angelic gardener).

"But they're still the same deep down?" Adam prompted when Warlock drifted into his thoughts for a moment too long. Warlock glanced at Aziraphale and Crowley, then back to the phone.

"Definitely," he responded with a grin.

"Good. With all the stories you told me and the fact that those two were definitely not taking care of me as a kid, I figured you were the one they'd been watching."

"Um, yeah, about that…" Warlock let the sentence hang awkwardly, unsure of how to bring up the fact that he knew his roommate's true identity as the near-destroyer of the world.

"I'm sure they told you about me, too," Adam responded, his smile now calm and reassuring. "Don't worry, the world is staying just as it is; there's no point in ending it when we can all work to fix it!"

Aziraphale let out a noise of approval and placed a hand placed over his heart, a fond expression on his face. Meanwhile, Crowley let out a resigned- though not necessarily displeased- sigh and sprawled back onto the couch.

"I've still got my powers though," Adam spoke up. His smile had turned absolutely mischievous. "I'll show you some cool tricks on our next day off."

"Adam!" Aziraphale exclaimed, hands now clenched worriedly in his lap. Warlock flipped the phone camera so Adam could see the angel. "I thought we agreed that you're not to use your powers unless it's a life or death situation!"

"Eh, let the kid do what he wants; he's got supernatural abilities, he should use them," Crowley said with a shrug and a vague hand gesture towards Warlock's phone.

"Crowley, that's not what we should be teaching him!"

"He can control them; what's the problem?!"

"The problem is-"

"God, they bicker like they've been married forever," Adam remarked with a roll of his eyes, and Warlock nodded with a snicker, turning the phone camera back to selfie mode. "How did you deal with that for eleven years?"

"Well, it wasn't that bad since they tried to hide it, but they really sucked at keeping it a secret…"

"Figures. You coming back to the dorm soon?"

"Oh, crap." Warlock's eyebrows shot upwards as he looked at the time. He'd spent much longer than anticipated in the bookshop. "Yeah, I guess I'll head back before it gets too late. Uh, do you wanna say goodbye to them, or…?" Crowley and Aziraphale were still arguing, though Warlock could tell by the light atmosphere in the room that they weren't actually upset with each other.

"Nah, I'm sure I'll see 'em soon, especially since you've all reconnected," Adam replied. "Text me when you're back on campus; see you in a bit!"

With a wave, Adam disconnected the call. Warlock slipped his phone back in his pocket and cleared his throat, instantly stopping Crowley and Aziraphale's discussion about the proper use of Adam's supernatural powers.

"I should get back to my dorm," Warlock said slowly, not really wanting to cut his visit short.

"Of course, dear boy," Aziraphale said, standing and smoothing out his vest. He gave Warlock a kind smile as he and Crowley stood as well. "Please, don't hesitate to visit us whenever you wish; we're merely a phone call away. Now, it'll be rather dark out at this time of the evening, so we'll walk you to your car; where did you park?"

"Oh, I took a cab," Warlock responded, pulling out his phone again. "I'll just call another one-"

"Nope, don't even think about it," Crowley said, and with a snap Warlock's phone disappeared from his hand and went back into his pocket. The boy glanced up at the demon to find an excited grin spreading across his face. "We'll give you a ride; remember the Bentley?"

Warlock did, in fact, remember the Bentley- more specifically, the way the Bentley would travel at ungodly speeds as soon as it cleared the driveway and the sightlines of anyone who would have an issue with Nanny Ashtoreth's driving style. Their trips into town had been both exhilarating and terrifying.

"I'm not sure if we should put young Warlock in that sort of peril," Aziraphale said, his lips twisting into a frown.

"It's not 'perilous;' I'm in complete control," the demon responded, sounding mildly offended.

"No one can be in control at the speed you like to travel."

"It'll be fine!"

"…Oh, alright." Aziraphale sighed heavily. "Just please try to drive a little more reasonably than usual, dear; Warlock won't do well with inconvenient discorporation."

"Discorpor-what?!" Warlock yelped, but was hurriedly pushed towards the door before Aziraphale could clarify.

"Don't worry about it, hellspawn!" Crowley said, guiding Warlock through the towering bookshelves. The boy glanced up at him quite worriedly, in fact, and in response Crowley lifted up his glasses to give him a serpent-eyed wink. Seemingly before Warlock could take another breath, the three of them were piled into the sleek black Bentley, Crowley in the driver's seat, Aziraphale in the passenger side, and Warlock taking his usual place in the back rightmost seat. Though he hadn't been in the car for nearly a decade, the leather seemed to mold itself around his lean frame almost as if the Bentley itself remembered him.

Based on all Warlock had learned that day, a sentient car wasn't too far out of the realm of possibility.

"Do you need directions?" Warlock asked, and Crowley shook his head.

"We've met up with Adam at his university a few times, so we know the way," the demon responded, glancing at Warlock through the rearview mirror.

"Honestly, it's a wonder we haven't run into you before today," Aziraphale mused. Crowley let out a derisive snort. Then, the demon flashed Warlock a grin and with a rev of the engine, they were off. The melodic sound of a familiar song drifted from the radio, and Warlock's mouth lifted into an automatic smile; even after all this time, his nanny still listened to nothing but Queen.

After such a long day, Warlock should have been content to sit in silence and process all he'd been through. But, he had one more pressing question that needed an answer before his curiosity would be satiated for the time being.

"Hey, Nanny Ash?" Warlock said, and though he couldn't see either of their eyes, he knew that Crowley and Aziraphale were giving him their full attention. "You and Zira never answered my question from earlier."

"What question was that, hellspawn?" Crowley responded, noting Aziraphale's face light up fondly. The angel didn't usually like nicknames, but he'd apparently made an exception for Warlock.

"Are you two together or what?"

The two supernatural beings gazed at each other for such a long time Warlock wondered how the Bentley didn't run off the road. Then, in unison, they both began to laugh- a hearty sound that drowned out the radio and made Warlock smile so much his cheeks hurt. Aziraphale held out his hand and Crowley took it without hesitation, squeezing it tightly.

"I knew it!" Warlock exclaimed triumphantly.

As the Bentley sped through the evening darkness, Crowley humming along to the radio while Aziraphale rubbed small circles on the back of his hand, Warlock allowed himself to settle comfortably into his seat, close his eyes, and relax. Brother Francis and Nanny Ash were back in his life, and they were here to stay.

With an angel's presence bathing him in warmth and a demon's familiar, lilting hum filling his ears, Warlock drifted off into a peaceful sleep. Through an equal touch of divine and hellish influence, he dreamed about what he loved the most: a being with fiery red hair, another with brilliant blue eyes, and an overwhelming feeling of finally being home.