And here is the conclusion! Hope you guys all enjoy!

Also, a character shows up in this chapter that was from my story "Good Deep Down". You don't need to read that first, but if you're confused about the random backstory, it's in reference to that fic ^_^

Part Two

"Angel!" Crowley cried, terror welling in his throat as he spotted his dear friend chained to the pole, covered in blood and horrible injuries. "Aziraphale!"

The angel's head lifted weakly as Crowley skidded to a halt in front of him, cupping his face gently, trying his best to take care with the cuts and bruises littering his friend's skin.

"Cro-Crowley," Aziraphale whispered, a weak cough escaping his throat. Blue eyes opened and were dull with pain. "Th-the children…"

Crowley gritted his teeth, but he turned to see the kids in the cage, watching the scene in front of them with horror. He swallowed hard as he also saw the detonation device hooked to the cage the kids were being kept in. It was set to go off in about twenty minutes.

Cursing under his breath, he left Aziraphale chained to the post for the moment and turned to see what he could do about the bomb.

"Emily?" he called.

A little brunet girl looked up at him, climbing to her knees as she gripped the bars.

"I remember you," she said softly. "And your friend." Her eyes flicked to Aziraphale's battered figure worriedly. "You saved us before, in the bus accident."

Crowley nodded eagerly. "Yes, and I'm going to save you again, just hold on a minute."

Before he could inspect the device further, one of the kids pointed and screamed.

"Watch out!" Emily cried.

Crowley spun around just in time to see Hastur leaping at his back. He didn't have time to react and the other demon bore him to the ground, where Crowley felt the wind get knocked out of him.

Hastur leveled a heavy punch to his jaw and Crowley growled, getting one foot up between them and slamming it into Hastur's stomach, throwing him off and into the side of the cage.

Crowley was back up on his feet in a second, Hastur a little slower. Too slow, since Crowley had already pulled his pistol from his coat and shot Hastur twice.

The demon gasped and gurgled as he collapsed on the ground.

Crowley spat some blood, as he replaced his gun into the back of his belt and stepped forward. The bullets wouldn't keep Hastur down for long, he knew, but hopefully it would be long enough.

Quickly, Crowley hurried to Aziraphale, snapping his fingers to release the cuffs, not even thinking in that moment about how easy they were to open. He caught the angel as he slumped to the ground, lowering him down gently.

"Hold on, angel," he whispered before turning back to Hastur, and locking him in Aziraphale's place.

That task done, he was back at Aziraphale's side in an instant, pulling the angel into his arms.

"Crowley," Aziraphale murmured, eyes half open, groping for Crowley with one hand.

The demon grasped the searching fingers, running his thumb soothingly over the gold ring Aziraphale always wore.

"Shh, just stay still. Bless it, angel, you look terrible."

He started to peel open Aziraphale's shirt to see to his injuries, in the hopes of at least stopping the blood flow before he returned to figuring out how to get the children out of the cage.

"Crowley," Aziraphale swallowed hard. "The kids…they're…they're destined to stop it."

Crowley froze, cocking his head to one side. "Stop what, angel?"

"Armageddon," Aziraphale whispered hoarsely.

Crowley's blood ran cold and he glanced toward the children, missing the strange smirk that pulled up one side of Aziraphale's mouth. They'd suspected something, yes, and yet…he'd never imagined this. However, it all made sense now. It made all too much sense for his liking.

He swallowed hard, trying to turn his focus back to his injured friend.

"Just a second, alright? You'll be fine soon enough. Just…"

Something hot burned through his middle, and at first, he had no idea what had happened. Even when he looked down and saw what had happened, his mind refused to process it.

In Aziraphale's hand was a small blade of shimmering angelic steel. It was a holy blade, burning through Crowley's very soul where it was buried in his gut.

One of the kids screamed again but he barely heard it. His eyes traveled up the familiar hand to the even more familiar face, that no longer held the light of his angel. Aziraphale's features were twisted into something like self-satisfied enjoyment.

"Az-Azira—" Crowley choked out as blood spilled from his mouth.

The wounds and blood seemed to disappear from Aziraphale at the same time Crowley's blood flowed out of him. The angel sat up and with a twist of the knife, Crowley gasped out in unimaginable agony, as this horrid being wearing his friend's face pulled him close.

But the physical agony was nothing compared to the words that accompanied the wound. Aziraphale leaned in close, holding Crowley upright, as he whispered into his ear. "An enemy and a friend can wear the same face, snake. Remember that."

Then, with almost mocking gentleness, he laid Crowley down on the ground before he stood and turned to the cage with the children and snapped his fingers. The timer on the bomb went from fifteen minutes to thirty seconds.

Aziraphale, or whatever this was, sneered. "You should have stuck with your own side, Crowley. It probably wouldn't have ended so badly for you. After all, how could a disgusting creature like you ever dare to think he could be redeemed?"

"Azira—" Crowley whimpered, trying to get up, then choked on more blood, collapsing and curling up on the ground.

He had no idea what was going on, prayed it was just another cruel illusion and that his dearest friend hadn't really just betrayed him. No, he was certain of it; that could never have been Aziraphale, and yet…

And yet, what did it matter? He was dead now anyway.

But…

The children didn't have to die. He could use what strength he had left. If he could find any strength left in him, he could use it to stop the bomb.

He closed his eyes and dragged himself to his knees, crying out as he felt the dagger shift in his insides. He reached out, summoning what was left of his power.

"Stay back," he gritted at the kids.

They all huddled to one side of the cage and Crowley squeezed his eyes shut, breathing heavily as he forced everything he had left into one miracle.

One last demonic miracle.

He prayed it would work.

Aziraphale screamed as he saw Sandalphon pulling a dagger from his clothes as Crowley tended to his 'injuries' completely unsuspecting—and why should he suspect anything? He thought he was tending to his friend.

"Crowley!" Aziraphale cried, begging Crowley to somehow hear him, to see what was about to happen.

"He can't hear you," Kushiel commented blandly from where he stood in one corner of the cell.

"I know that, you bastard!" Aziraphale snapped, yanking at his chains so hard his wrists began to bleed. With mounting terror, he watched, helpless, as Sandalphon shoved the holy blade into Crowley's stomach.

"No!" Aziraphale screamed.

Crowley looked so confused at first, then the utter look of betrayal that crossed his face nearly ripped Aziraphale apart. Helpless tears slid down his cheeks.

Gabriel was in the cell too, watching with satisfaction.

"Are you happy now?" Aziraphale demanded. "Was this all part of your disgusting plan?"

The archangel, to Aziraphale's surprise, didn't really look pleased with himself, just resolute. "It may surprise you but I didn't really want it to have to end this way, Aziraphale. But…well, you two have proven yourself far too meddlesome. You just had to go."

His indifference almost made it worse. Aziraphale watched, horrified and disgusted, as Sandalphon gently laid Crowley down on the ground, then snapped his fingers toward the bomb.

Aziraphale stiffened as the timer went down significantly.

Gabriel turned around and nodded to Kushiel. "Let's go."

Just as they started out, Aziraphale caught sight of Cowley hauling himself to his knees, grabbing the bars of the cage to steady himself. Kushiel stopped and pointed.

"My lord, look!"

"Crowley," Aziraphale breathed, tears in his eyes as he realized what his brave friend was doing. Giving his last ounce of strength to save the children.

Gabriel's brow furrowed as there was a bright flash of light and the explosive device turned off before the door swung open. Crowley collapsed and Aziraphale felt his breath catch in his throat as he watched anxiously for any rise and fall of Crowley's chest.

"My lord…" Kushiel inquired, stepping forward as if to do something.

"It doesn't matter," Gabriel said. "We have plenty of contingencies." His eyes met Aziraphale's with a small smirk. "Your friend stopped nothing."

Sandalphon came back into the cell, in his real form again, eyes hard. "Well, that didn't go entirely to plan."

"No, but they'll soon realize this is only a false hope." Gabriel watched as the children filed out of the cage, and Emily stopped right beside Crowley, leaning over him. Aziraphale ached to be with his friend, see if he was alright. Or if…

Sandalphon came over to Aziraphale, a satisfied look on his face. "Did you enjoy the show?"

Aziraphale glowered at him as darkly as he could. "You disgust me. You should be ashamed. Such deception makes you no better than a fiend of Hell!"

Sandalphon smirked. "Bold words, coming from you, Aziraphale." He raised the hand with the ring on it to his lips, kissing the ring mockingly before he took it off and dropped it into Aziraphale's waistcoat pocket, patting the spot almost jauntily.

"What should I do with him?" Kushiel asked.

Gabriel considered this for a moment. "Unchain him. Let him say goodbye to his only friend."

The tone in his voice told Aziraphale he had no reason to be grateful, but he still was. If they were all going to die anyway, he would much rather do it by Crowley's side.

Sandalphon gave a nasty smirk. "I suppose that's fair. After all, the demon will die thinking it was by your hand."

The words cut deep and Aziraphale turned his glower onto the angel. "You truly are a despicable being, Sandalphon."

He winced as the manacles were unlocked from around his raw wrists, and he didn't wait for them to escort him out of the cell, simply burst out and hurried to Crowley's side.

The children were huddled together, looking scared and like they had no idea what to do. They looked with wide eyes at Aziraphale, cowering away from him slightly, and he pressed his lips into a thin line.

"Go see if you can find a way out of here, quickly!" he said before turning back to Crowley. Emily was the only one who had gone to the demon and Aziraphale could hear her as he approached.

"Please, Mr. Crowley! You have to get up! We need to get out of here."

Aziraphale hurried over and was shocked to see the little girl glower at him, positioning herself almost protectively over Crowley's prone form.

"Emily," Aziraphale called.

"Stay away from him!" she snapped. "You already hurt him!"

Aziraphale crouched on Crowley's other side as the girl started to slide the demon away from him, yanking at his clothes and tugging on the dagger still stuck into Crowley. The demon groaned.

Aziraphale held out a hand. "Emily, please, you don't understand what's going on."

"You st-stabbed him!" she cried.

Aziraphale felt his throat clench with pain and desperation. "Emily that wasn't me, it was one of our enemies disguised as me. They did that on purpose, do you understand?"

Her lower lip started trembling. She was a brave girl, Aziraphale could tell, but she was also just a child and she had been through more than she ever should have.

He leaned in close. "You need to take your friends and run, okay? I trust you to get them out."

"But what about you?" Emily asked quietly.

Aziraphale simply smiled at her encouragingly. If he could hold Gabriel and the others off, and let the children escape than maybe this whole mission wouldn't all be in vain after all. "Just go," he said quietly.

Emily nodded, and finally slid back, allowing Aziraphale to kneel beside his friend.

"Oh, Crowley," he choked out, reaching out hesitantly to see what he could do. He had to get the dagger out first, it was doing more damage than anything while still stuck in him.

He reached out slowly to pull the dagger out and Crowley's eyes flew open with a cry.

"Sssstay away," he hissed hoarsely, trying to scramble to one side. Emily reached out and grabbed his hand again.

Aziraphale ignored him even though Crowley's words went straight to his heart, and swiftly pulled the dagger out as Crowley's body arched in pain. He threw the wretched thing away and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, using it in a poor attempt to stop the flow of blood. It was a Heavenly dagger so he could not heal it.

"Don't…" Crowley choked, and blood dribbled from his mouth.

"Crowley, please," Aziraphale whispered, reaching out to gently stroke the demon's hair, hating how his friend tensed under his ministrations. "Crowley, my dear, it's me." He pressed against the wound and Crowley curled up with a gurgle of agony. Aziraphale gathered him into his arms.

"You know I would never do this to you. It was only Sandalphon pretending to be me. To tear us apart at the…at the end of things. You know how spiteful they are."

Crowley's tight jaw and paler-than-usual skin told of his agony, but he shuddered in Aziraphale's grasp. Aziraphale felt the demon's blood seeping through his fingers at an alarming pace and he swallowed hard. If he didn't do something, he was going to lose his friend, and losing him with Crowley thinking he had betrayed him…he may as well die too if that happened because he certainly wouldn't want to go on living.

"Please Crowley," he whispered brokenly. "You have to know its me."

The demon's eyes flicked open. He'd lost his glasses at some point, and so Aziraphale could clearly see them, the golden serpentine pupils clouded with pain. He reached up to gently cup Crowley's cheek and this time, the demon didn't flinch away from him.

"You know it's me," Aziraphale whispered, forcing a small, encouraging smile. "It's—it's all going to be tickety-boo. You'll see."

That relaxed Crowley as Aziraphale had hoped it would, the demon knowing that only the real Aziraphale could say that 'insufferable phrase' as Crowley had called it once.

The demon's hand reached up to clutch at Aziraphale's coat, but he couldn't seem to talk when he opened his mouth, only more blood slipping out.

"Shh," Aziraphale whispered, stroking his brow. "Don't try to talk, I know. Just rest, Crowley."

He heard footsteps behind him and Gabriel, Sandalphon and Hastur appeared, watching the scene with some sense of deep satisfaction that made Aziraphale furious. He pulled Crowley closer to him, protectively.

"I hope you've said your goodbyes, because this is it. Come on," Gabriel told the others.

Aziraphale was about to stand up, do anything he could to stop them, but that was when the ground underneath them started rumbling.

The children screamed, and even Gabriel and the others looked confused about what was going on, so Aziraphale had a feeling this was not part of their plan.

"What…?" Gabriel demanded before they were all accosted with a blinding light that forced even the angels to cover their eyes.

When it lifted, a haloed figure stood in the middle of the room, wings unfurled so that they almost reached both walls.

As the light faded a little more, revealing the angel's countenance, Aziraphale gasped, as startled recognition overcame him.

"Zadkiel?" he asked.

The angel looked down at him and a small smile appeared on his lips, along with a nod. The glow engulfing him was coming from a pendant around his neck, glowing with the brightest starlight.

"Y-you're an angel again," Aziraphale breathed. "How?"

Zadkiel had been a friend of his and Crowley's. He'd been an angel turned human in punishment for falling in love with a human woman and siring a daughter. Crowley had saved his daughter Abigail's life, and the four of them had been good friends until Zadkiel had passed away a few years back after living a long, human life. But how had he become an angel again?

Zadkiel ignored Aziraphale's question, but a small, knowing smile appeared on his lips. "There's no time now to explain." He stepped forward and gazed down at Crowley cradled in Aziraphale's arms, a sorrowful look crossing his face. Aziraphale held his dying friend tighter.

"Please, is there anything…?" he trailed off, voice tightening, not quite feeling brave enough at the moment to even dare ask.

Zadkiel nodded. "There is one thing. There is a place in Heaven, the Fields of Gold. You know it? You must take Crowley there."

Aziraphale was shocked to hear this. He sputtered. "But…that place is forbidden to angels!" The last thing he wanted was to have false hope before they were killed anyway.

"It will be all right," Zadkiel assured him. He reached up and took off the pendant he was wearing, before bending and slipping it over Aziraphale's head where it rested against his chest, a misplaced star. "This will guide your way. Once there, you must allow the starlight to cover his body completely until he is whole again."

Aziraphale glanced over to the huddled children. "But the children…"

"I will see to it that they are brought home safely, Zadkiel assured him. "They will remember none of this. But time is running out for Crowley. You must go now."

He turned away from Aziraphale then, his kind expression replaced by a hard one. "You are wanted by the Metatron," he told Gabriel and the other angels.

"Excuse me, but—"Gabriel started.

"Immediately," Zadkiel snapped.

Gabriel looked furious, but there was little he could do. He and the other angels took flight.

Zadkiel looked over his shoulder at Aziraphale. "Go."

Aziraphale wasted no more time. He spread his wings and flew upwards toward the Heavens. As he went, he watched as the building crumbled, the illusion failing, and the demons all fleeing for their lives back to Hell.

Crowley was heavy in Aziraphale's arms, completely unconscious now. There was only a small spark left in him to tell the angel his friend was even now still alive. He had to go quickly.

The star pendant guided him in the right direction, up above even Heaven itself to the sacred place of healing that resided above the Eastern Gate of Heaven. Aziraphale really had no time to think about what he was doing right now. His only thought was to save his friend.

Finally, he reached the place, and a feeling of calm washed over him instantly upon landing. Aziraphale fell to his knees, cradling Crowley in his arms and used his wings to shelter them both.

He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do, but it seemed he didn't have to worry about that after all. Only a few seconds after he settled, the golden grasses that were swaying in an unfelt wind began to glow, and thousands of tiny stars rose from out of the fields and gathered to settle over Crowley, eventually covering him from head to toe.

Aziraphale watched in awe as his friend's body was lit with the glittering starlight, concentrating around the wound in his middle.

There was nothing Aziraphale could do now but wait and have faith.

Crowley felt like he was drowning. But…no, that wasn't quite right. He was choking on something. There was a metallic taste in the back of his throat, and it felt like all he could do to draw a breath into his lungs.

Crowley.

Someone was calling his name. It sounded far away, like the way sound travels through water. Aziraphale? He wondered. It must be his friend; the angel had been the last thing he saw before…before what? What even was this?

He could also feel someone cradling him, holding him tenderly almost like a babe. Crowley wasn't sure who this was either, though he was going to guess Aziraphale if it was even happening at all. Or perhaps it was just a dream. Either way it was comforting.

But he was still unable to breathe…until…

Warmth began to settle over him, and somehow it was like a physical thing, manifesting in light like a blanket of stars.

He sighed inwardly, the sensation soothing, easing his hurts. He felt…safe.

He was hallucinating, he thought. It was likely just Aziraphale covering him with his wings, the angel was always so bright, it was the only explanation Crowley could come up with.

But then a sound came to him from far away. A melody trickled into his ears, into his mind, something so familiar it stole his breath.

It was the words of an ancient lullaby that he hadn't heard since…since his…creation? Crowley didn't even know. He just knew this had no connection to Hell, it was, in a way, the very essence of Heaven, and it brought forgotten memories and tears to his eyes to hear it.

And then the drowning sensation returned in earnest and the warmth ingulfing him turned into fire, burning his flesh.

He choked, terror rushing through him before the voice returned.

Hush, child. All is well.

And suddenly, it was. The sensations washed over Crowley as the beautiful angelic lullaby continued, and hands soothed his hurts, wiping blood from his mouth, healing the ache in his core, the damage of the holy blade.

Yet still, he burned. It reminded him of the Fall all over again, swirling and plummeting to earth, before the ultimate plunge into the fiery pit. But this was not a fire of corruption. This was different, it was healing, not destructive—regenerative. It was almost like…absolution.

The fire and the song wrapped him in light as he felt his body heal, the pureness of it, something he hadn't touched in so, so long, forced sobs to tear from his body at his own realization of what this must be.

Finally, he opened his eyes, and saw a glowing figure hovered over him.

"Mother," he whispered.

He felt, rather than saw, the smile and someone brushed a gentle hand over his forehead.

Crowley felt all the pain fade from him, dissipating like stardust or ashes on the wind. There was only peace left now. But the lullaby continued as he floated in this place out of time, and closed his eyes again, feeling himself slip off into regenerative sleep.

"Crowley? Crowley, it's time to wake up."

Crowley heard the familiar voice calling him, but didn't quite want to open his eyes yet. He had the distinct impression that he'd been having a lovely dream, and even now the echo of a nearly forgotten melody played in his head. Soft breeze brushed his cheek, lifting the hair from off his forehead.

"Crowley, you're safe now. Please, I need to see you open your eyes."

It was a voice he could never resist, and so he forced his eyes open.

He was greeted with the light of thousands of stars, covering his body, and emitting a warm luminescence that caused the face of the angel bending over him to glow. Crowley was tucked safely into Aziraphale's arms, the angel's wings curled around him, those, too, decorated with starlight.

Crowley reached up with awe to touch one of the twinkling drops resting in the angel's feathers, wondering if he was still dreaming. This place…he knew it, of course, though he had never thought to see it. He was almost certain he was wrong, and yet there was no mistaking the stars that glittered all around. It must be the Fields of Gold. It was sacred, even by Heavenly standards, for even angels were not permitted to enter. There was only one in particular that knew the way, but he was no longer an angel.

So how could a fallen angel like Crowley be here?

But his dream…he looked down at his hand bathed in starlight, then placed it over his chest. No, not a dream, he realized. At least not all of it. And there was the lullaby that he remembered from so long ago still echoing in his head.

Something had changed inside of him, and he was honestly feeling incredibly overwhelmed. Impulsively, he burrowed further against Aziraphale, burying his face against his friends body his friend's body and gripping him tight, with the need to suddenly hold onto something, anchor himself to someone familiar. He didn't know how they had gotten here, because previously he had been so certain they would all die and start the next Apocalypse, but now everything felt right with the world and relief rushed over him as a few tears slid from his eyes.

He felt Aziraphale's hands rubbing over his back and the angel huffed fondly. "It's all right, dear. You're home now. Everything will be okay."

Crowley sniffed and pushed himself upright, finally pulling himself together. "No, angel," he said. "I'm not home until we're at the bookshop with a strong drink."

Joy and relief spread across Aziraphale's face. The stars began to rise from them like shimmering, upward-falling, raindrops.

The angel laughed. "I think that sounds like a splendid idea."

He helped Crowley to stand as the last of the stars fell from them, and as Aziraphale prepared to miracle them home, Crowley cast one more look around this sacred place.

He smiled as he heard the final strains of that forgotten lullaby on the breeze as the stars settled again.

He'd always thought it should have been called the Field of Starlight instead.

The storms had abated over London, and everything seemed to be back to normal again, Aziraphale was glad to see. There had been nary a peep from Heaven or Hell. Emily and the other children had been returned to their homes by Zadkiel, remembering nothing of their trauma, and would hopefully be set to live out what destinies they were meant to have without interference.

It had taken a long time and many drinks to explain to Crowley exactly what had happened once they got back to London. Aziraphale had been worried that the incident with Sandalphon would leave its mark, but the hurt from the false betrayal had seemed to heal along with the deadly wound. Aziraphale still couldn't believe what had happened. That he'd actually taken Crowley to the Fields of Gold to be healed and there had been no consequences. And Crowley seemed brighter since, something about him different. Aziraphale didn't ask him what his experience there had been like and he never planned to. It seemed wrong to do so, as if encroaching on someone's privacy.

But today they were walking in St. James Park, and the sun was shining as children ran around, throwing bread to the ducks, and begging their parents to buy them ice cream from the vendors. Aziraphale smiled.

"There he is," Crowley said, nodding over toward the pond.

"Ah," Aziraphale said as they headed in that direction, meeting with the post man who stood, waiting for them with his clipboard.

"You have it?" he asked.

Aziraphale reached into his coat and pulled out the small parcel which contained the pendant that Zadkiel had let him borrow. He handed it to the postman as Zadkiel had instructed them to do, so that it could be returned to him.

Aziraphale signed the man's clipboard and he tipped his hat before he left.

It being such a nice day, Aziraphale and Crowley continued on a stroll around the park.

"Aziraphale," Crowley asked after a few seconds, hands in his pockets. "Do you remember anything back from before the Rebellion? Or even before that? You know, like…when you were only just created?"

Aziraphale was slightly taken aback by the odd question, made even odder because Crowley typically, as a rule, never mentioned anything about the Rebellion. "Well…I can't say I remember much at all, really. Even during the Rebellion, I was rather young…"

Crowley pursed his lips, seeming to consider his next words for a long time before he spoke. "Do you remember a song, a lullaby from the time before everything? When we were all still stars?"

Aziraphale thought this was even more strange, but replied truthfully, "Not really, but…well, memory is rather a strange thing, and so much can fade away even for beings like us after several millennia, I suppose."

Crowley nodded but seemed a little disappointed. Aziraphale watched him, not entirely sure what his friend had going through his head. He'd rarely seen Crowley this thoughtful before, and he wondered briefly just what had happened to him during his healing in the Fields of Gold.

"Do you think," Crowley continued, "that humans have music, love it so much, because it was the first thing they heard? That God sang during the creation of Adam and Eve?" He paused and turned to Aziraphale. "Do you think that God maybe sang to us? Back when there were only angels and the Fall hadn't happened? Sang as an expression of love?"

The thought warmed Aziraphale and he smiled at his friend, even now hearing the birds sing in the trees above, yet another song woven into the world they lived in.

"I can't recall really if Mother ever sang, or any details of the songs if she did," Aziraphale told him truthfully. "But if that is the case, then I am pretty certain that all great masterpieces of music there ever were, would have been created out of a longing to remember those long-forgotten melodies that are woven into our very existence."

Crowley offered a small smile at this and tipped his head back to stare up at the birds, sun shining down on his face.

"You know," Aziraphale said. "I believe there is a symphony playing at the Royal Opera House tonight. Would you like to go? My treat."

Crowley glanced over at him. "I think I'd like that."

"Fantastic," Aziraphale exclaimed. "But right now, it's nearly teatime. I know this lovely little place near here and I know you'll like it…"

The two strode off through the sun as the birds sang their own songs behind them.