#My Fanifction | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lopithecusfanfiction · 6 years ago

Text

Take it All Away: Chapter One

Author: Lopithecus Pairing: Aaron Dingle/Robert Sugden Rating: Mature Word Count: 4548 Alternate: AO3 Summary: When Robert goes out to a club, he doesn’t expect what happens. He should have been more careful, should have paid more attention. Now his life is flipped upside down all because of one stupid mistake. Warnings:

Rape/Non-Con

Non-Consensual Drug Use

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD

Blackouts

Memory Loss

Implied/Referenced Self-Harm

Self-Harm

Panic Attacks

Other Additional Tags to Be Added (I will update this post when more are added)

Author’s Note: This is a “what happens if Robert is the one to get assaulted instead of Victoria” fic. I wrote this mainly because I wanted more hurt Robert (because I’m cruel and I like to see characters I love suffer.) I wasn’t planning on posting this until I was done with it but I wanted to post it before Ryan leaves the show and that is, unfortunately, coming up fast. I do have Chapter 2 and 3 done but that’s it. Updates will most likely be slow but I never abandon a story, so I’ve got that going for you. Also, my brother’s name is Aron so I’m not used to writing the name with two A’s (I actually often times forget that most people do spell it with two) so if you see at any time during the story I’ve spelt the name with one A, just let me know so I can fix it. This is my first fic in the Emmerdale fandom. I also live in America so I might get the slang they use on the show/things that are called differently here than in the UK, wrong. Hopefully I’ve obsessively watched the storyline enough times to pick up a few things, lol! I’m also not going to be able to remember to change the spelling of words that are spelt differently here than in the UK nor would I know all the words that are spelt differently (i.e. z vs s) so I’m probably going to just use the American spelling. I’m sorry if this bothers you. This is set around the time Robert, Aaron, Ellis, and Victoria go to that club except it doesn’t play out in this like it did on the show. Please enjoy!

Robert saunters down the stairs, fixing his tie around his neck. He can smell the toast Aaron has made and it makes his mouth water, stomach growling with hunger. Once at the bottom, he approaches Aaron and Liv, where they are sat at the kitchen table, eating cereal for breakfast.

“Good morning,” he says, leaning down to kiss the top of Aaron’s head. He sits down and takes a piece of toast, taking a big bite out of it.

“Mornin’,” Aaron replies, mouth full of food. Liv gives him a smile but says nothing.

“I have a bunch of meetings today and then I have that late dinner celebration I told you about with a few of the new investors,” Robert comments.

Aaron nods. “Yeah, I remember.”

“So you’ll be home extra late then?” Liv asks, getting up from the table and grabbing her school bag.

“Probably,” Robert answers.

“Well maybe, Aaron, you could have tea with Chas then.” Liv shrugs on her bag. “Then I can have Gabby over without my annoying older brother hovering over us the whole time.”

“Aren’t you going to be late for college?” Aaron quips, giving Liv a playful look.

Liv laughs. “I’m just saying.”

Robert watches the scene play out in front of him, his own smile of amusement on his face. He’s always loved seeing the playful banter between Aaron and his sister. It often reminds him of how he and Victoria are sometimes. There’s just something gratifying about picking on your younger sibling.

Liv says her goodbyes and leaves The Mill. Aaron watches after her, a wistful smile playing at his lips. “What?” Robert asks him.

Aaron takes a deep breath and finally goes back to eating his cereal. “I’m just glad to see she seems to be moving on from that whole Jacob stuff.” He slurps his cereal as he drinks the milk from the bowl.

Robert makes a face at the sound. “She’s a strong kid. She can get through almost anything.”

“Well, she does have the perfect role models when it comes to getting through tough times,” Aaron says with a small, playful smile.

Robert chuckles. “If you say so.” He stands then, leaning over to give Aaron another kiss on the top of his head, grabbing a couple pieces of toast on his way. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

*~~~*

Robert sits in a booth in the back of the Woolpack. He isn’t really looking forward to this dinner. He would rather be at home, curled up on the sofa with Aaron while they watch some corny film Liv picked out. He really hopes this doesn’t take long and comes up with a plan on how to make this whole thing go by as fast as possible while he waits. All he really has to do is eat a small meal while he schmoozes the guests of honor and buy them a few drinks. It should be easy.

That’s why Robert isn’t sure what to think when the children of the investors arrive instead of the men themselves. Two men and a woman who are probably about nine years younger than he is, approach him with wide smiles. He looks back at them in confusion, eyebrows knitting together. One of the men holds out his hand for a shake and Robert takes it. “Nice to meet you Mister Sugden-Dingle. I’m Lucas.”

The other man shakes Robert’s hand next. “Name’s Trevor.”

“And I’m Meghan,” the woman says, not offering her hand.

“Please, call me Robert.” Robert looks from one to the other. “Sorry, but I thought I was meeting-”

Lucas cuts him off. “Our fathers?” He chuckles. “Yeah, they thought we would have more fun instead.”

“But they’re the ones who made the deal,” Robert comments, incredulous. He’s starting to feel a little frustrated now. He didn’t come out tonight to entertain a bunch of young adults and if he’s being quite honest, it’s really unprofessional of the investors to send these three in place of them. “Sorry but,” Robert stands, “they really should have come out themselves.” He scoots out of the booth, grabbing his jacket. “It was nice meeting you but I think I’ll be off.”

“Woah, hold it.” Lucas steps in front of him. “We were promised a good time tonight; food, drink, the lot.” He smirks. “You wouldn’t want us to tell our dads that you skimped out on us, would ya?”

Robert isn’t sure what to say. He can’t lose these business deals, not if he wants the money from them. He and Aaron are trying to have a baby and they can’t do that if the new haulage company doesn’t work out. They’re desperate to make money, even if it means Robert has to entertain a bunch of children.

He sighs. “No, I wouldn’t.”

Lucas’ smile grows bigger. “Good! C’mon, let’s go.”

Robert stops them. “I thought we were only going to have a few drinks and some food?”

Trevor scoffs and looks around the Woolpack. “Not here.”

At that, the three of them turn and begin leaving the pub. Robert sighs again, heavier this time, and shakes his head, following behind.

*~~~*

Robert gets even more confused when the taxi pulls up next to a club. He gets out and turns to the group, asking, “Weren’t we just going to another pub or a bar?”

Meghan walks up to him and runs her hand over his shoulder. “And where’s the fun in that?”

Trevor smirks at him, wrapping an arm around Meghan’s middle. “Come on, Rob, lighten up a little. It’ll be fun.”

Robert bites his tongue, deciding that snapping at the little git wouldn’t do him any favors. Instead he says, “It’s Robert and this isn’t what I had in mind when I agreed to this.”

Trevor and Meghan laugh at him and start walking away to the queue while Lucas pats him on the back, leaving his hand at the nape of his neck. “It’s what our fathers want, Rob; for you to show us a good time and this is how it’s going to happen.”

He shrugs the man’s hand off. “I don’t really care what your fathers want. This is unprofessional to send you instead of coming themselves.” He looks the kid up and down in bewilderment. “I don’t really understand why they thought this would be okay.”

Lucas laughs, loud and obnoxious. “Because they’re too good for you, Rob. You’re some poor little pillock while our fathers are rich and powerful. Don’t you see, mate, they’re having fun at your expense.”

“They’re winding me up then?”

Lucas shrugs, walking away. “And the best part is, is you’re going to deal with it because you can’t lose this deal from what I’ve heard.”

Robert takes a deep breath in, trying to calm himself. This whole thing is ridiculous but he knows Lucas is right. He is going to deal with it. He has to. His and Aaron’s future depends on it. So with another quick, calming breath, he follows along and joins the queue at the entrance to the club. It’s quick moving, so it doesn’t take them long to get in, the three of his companions being ID’d. Robert heads straight for the bar and groans when he feels Trevor’s hand on his shoulder.

“You’re buying us all drinks, mate, and trust me, Meghan can put them back like you wouldn’t believe.” Trevor laughs and orders the three of them drinks. Robert pays reluctantly, glaring at them the whole time, and sighs in relief when they decide to leave him alone for a while to head out onto the dance floor, drinks in hand.

Robert turns back to the bartender and orders himself a beer, pulling out his mobile. He quickly navigates to Aaron’s name and starts typing out a text, wishing he could call him just to hear his voice which he knows will instantly calm him down, but the music is too loud to do such a thing.

To Aaron: sent 19:24

Save me

From Aaron: received 19:25

Sorry, can’t. Got Liv and Gabby drama to deal with. I’ll tell you later. What happened?

Robert sighs to himself again and begins explaining to Aaron what is going on. He finishes his beer by the time he’s done typing it all out and sending it, finding himself ordering another one. He tacks on one last message, wanting to get across just how irritated he is.

To Aaron: sent 19:36

It’s frustrating and unprofessional. They’re treating me as if I’m some chav who doesn’t know what he’s doing

From Aaron: received 19:37

I don’t get it, if it’s that bad then why don’t you just drop ‘em

To Aaron: sent 19:37

Because we need this money, Aaron. It’s for our baby

From Aaron: received 19:39

But is it really worth it?

To Aaron: sent 19:40

Yes it is. Anything is for our baby

From Aaron: received 19:41

Anything? Because we’ve been there before, Rob, and look where it’s gotten you

Robert rolls his eyes at that, annoyance building up in him for Aaron’s use of his past to have a go at him again.

To Aaron: sent 19:42

This isn’t like last time. This is legit

Robert can practically hear Aaron’s scoff as he waits for a reply.

From Aaron: received 19:42

Yeah okay. All I’m saying is don’t do too many things you’re uncomfortable with just for this

To Aaron: sent 19:43

I won’t. Promise

From Aaron: received 19:43

I’ve got to go. Try to have at least a little fun, yeah?

To Aaron: sent 19:43

Impossible without you

Robert smirks as he puts his phone back in his pocket, knowing Aaron scoffs again as he shakes his head, chuckling slightly at Robert’s comment. He turns around and leans against the bar, watching the crowd as they dance wildly to the music that is playing. He shakes his head in amusement. There are so many people that are willing to make fools of themselves once a little bit of drink is in them.

Within fifteen minutes, Robert is well and truly bored. He hasn’t left the bar and he finished his second beer ages ago. He debates getting another but he’s not really fancying the idea of getting plastered tonight so decides to forgo it. The problem is, now, he’s stood by the bar with nothing to do but people watching and he doesn’t even have anything to occupy his hands with. Robert scans the crowd for Trevor, Lucas, and Meghan and spots them in a frenzied dance, looking as if they are having a brilliant time.

Rubbing at his eyes, Robert turns back around to face the bar and orders another drink, relenting to the fact that he needs to do something to get through this night. He wonders how long he has to stay for it to be appropriate to leave, and figures he’ll probably have to buy his “mates” for the night a couple more rounds. As if in answer, Meghan comes up to him and leans in close to his ear, speaking loudly to be heard over the music, and hand snaking its way around his waist. “‘Nother round on you, aye?”

Robert nods with an eye roll and waits for the bartender to come his way before getting his attention. He orders them a couple more drinks, handing over a few more quid than necessary to pay for any future drinks they might get. She walks away with a flirtatious smirk and wink and Robert feels his face turn into a grimace before he can stop himself. Megan throws her head back and laughs, the sound lost in the noise of the music.

He’s stood there for another thirty minutes before he decides enough is enough. This whole night was a waste of time and he’s tired, agitated, and just wants to go home to Aaron where he can snuggle up next to him in bed. Robert sets his beer bottle down on the bar and pushes off it, ready to go tell Lucas that he’s leaving when someone bumps into him, spilling half their drink on his shirt. Robert has to bite his tongue to stop the retort that wants to come out, his mood becoming even more sour. He likes this shirt.

“So sorry, mate!” Robert looks up from his soaked shirt to a bloke who is about his age. The man reaches out to wipe at the liquid staining Robert’s shirt before realizing that he doesn’t actually have anything to wipe it up with. He pulls his hand back, frowning. “Shit, I didn’t see you there.”

Robert has to take a deep breath before speaking. “It’s alright.” He turns in the direction of the toilets.

“Oi, let me help you,” the man says, walking beside Robert.

Robert holds his hands out, dismissing him. “I’ve got it, thanks.”

“Look, it’s my fault. Just,” the man puts a hand on his shoulder, stopping Robert from walking away, “I want to help.”

Robert resists the urge to roll his eyes. “Fine.”

They both head into the toilets where the music quiets to a low thump, Robert’s ears ringing slightly. He grabs a handful of paper towels and starts to dab at his shirt. “You’ve got to get the towel wet first.” Robert’s eyes snap up to the mysterious bloke who spilled his drink on him.

“Look, I’m just trying to dry it. I was on my way home.”

“But you don’t want it to stain,” the man says as he grabs more paper towels and wets them under the tap. “Here.” He reaches over and starts to wipe at Robert’s shirt.

Robert stands there, not really knowing what to do. He can feel the heat beginning to crawl up his neck at the other man invading his space, getting uncomfortable at the proximity. The only person who isn’t blood related to him (besides Diane, of course, but she’s like blood) who has been this close to him recently is Aaron. He grabs a hold of the man’s hand. “I can do it.”

The man shrugs, taking a step back and handing over the paper towel. “Suit yourself.”

Robert eyes him before looking back down at his shirt. It couldn’t have just been a beer that was spilt on him. No, it had to be some fancy, colorful drink that is surely going to leave a blotch of red on his shirt. He sighs in defeat, throwing the paper towel in the bin. “It’s no use.” When Robert looks back up, the man is biting his bottom lip and Robert has to roll his eyes at the sight. “Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

“Well, at least let me buy you a drink to make up for it.”

Robert’s shaking his head before the bloke even finishes his sentence. “No need. I was going home.”

“Just one drink.” The man is smiling at him.

“I’m married,” Robert says, pointedly.

The man chuckles. “I noticed, I saw the ring.” His smile grows, playful like. “Come on, it’s a harmless drink. Just to say sorry.”

Robert stares at him, debating. One drink won’t hurt, will it? It’ll please this man and it’ll give his shirt a little time to dry before going home. Sure he’ll still smell like a boozer but at least he won’t have to ride home in a taxi with a sopping wet shirt. “Alright, go on then.”

The man’s smile grows impossibly wide and he leads the way back out into the club. They push their way over to the bar where Robert leans down on it, arms crossed, and waiting for the bartender to make his way to them. “Name’s Theo.” The man, Theo , says, leaning a little closer to be heard.

Robert gives him a nod in acknowledgement. “Robert.”

Theo purses his lips, nods in approval, and turns back to the bar, the bartender asking for their order. Theo orders for the both of them and Robert quirks one of his eyebrows in question. “What?”

Robert shakes his head. “Nothin’. Just don’t want one of those fancy drinks.”

“You mean the ones with lots of colors and weird names?” Theo teases, laughing at him. “Don’t worry, it’s not.”

They don’t have to wait long before Robert spots the bartender coming over with their drinks. He’s about to reach out for his when he hears his name being called. He’s never rolled his eyes so many times in one night. Turning around, he faces Lucas who is perfectly bladdered. “Mate!” He wraps an arm around Robert’s shoulders, leaning into him. Robert suspects if he moved, Lucas would collapse to the floor by how much he was holding himself up on him. “We thought you had left.”

“Yeah, mate , I was just having one more drink then leaving.” Robert tries to push him off but he holds on firmly.

“You haven’t danced with us yet,” Lucas slurs, resting his head on Robert’s shoulder.

Robert groans in annoyance, pushing harder. Lucas stumbles back off him. “I’ll pass, thanks.”

Lucas waves him off, sticking his tongue out at Robert, and Robert stares after him in uncontained disbelief. “Friends of yours?”

Robert turns back to Theo who is holding out his drink. It’s some blue liquid with one of those mini umbrellas in it and an olive, all contained in a cocktail glass. Robert hesitantly grabs for it, frowning. “No, thank God. I was just someone who could pay out on their drinks.”

Theo chuckles. “Then it’s a good thing I bought you yours.”

Robert’s eyes travel back down to his drink. “What in hell is it?”

“Just try it,” Theo says, smile playing at his mouth in amusement. “If you don’t like it then I’ll buy you a beer instead.”

“Didn’t I tell you I was going home?” Robert brings the glass to his lips.

He doesn’t miss the way Theo’s eyes travel the length of his body. “You did and that you’re also married.”

Robert licks his lips. “I don’t cheat.”

“I never asked you too.” Theo gives him a quick nod, directed at the glass still by Robert’s mouth. “Drink.”

Robert shakes his head and sips at the liquid, swallowing thoughtfully. He gives it a second, dragging it out just to annoy Theo who looks at him expectantly. Finally, he shrugs. “It’s not bad.”

Theo nudges him. “See, I told you you’d like it.” The man takes a sip from his own drink, another one of those colorful ones.

“This,” Robert gestures between the two of them, “me drinking this thing, stays between us, yeah?”

“Mate, I’m probably never going to see you again after tonight. Your secret is safe.”

Robert huffs, shaking his head, and drinking more of the blue liquid. Theo watches him from the corners of his eyes, smiling flirtatiously at Robert every once in a while. By the time Robert is done with the whole thing, he’s a little more than just tipsy. He carefully sets the glass down with shaking hands. “How… how much alcohol was in that thing?” Theo shrugs and Robert frowns at him.

“You alright, mate?” Theo asks him, hand landing on Robert’s shoulder.

Robert almost falls to the ground, losing his balance as the room starts to spin. “I…”

He hears Theo laugh beside him, the sound almost distant. “You’re completely pissed.” He puts one of Robert’s arms over his own shoulder, helping Robert keep balance. “Let me help you to a taxi.”

Robert stumbles along as the room continues to spin out of control, leaning onto Theo. His stomach is doing flips and he seriously starts to think he’s going to be sick all over himself when the next thing he knows, he’s in a taxi sat next to Theo. His eyebrows furrow in confusion as his body starts to relax into the seat. “Did I tell you where I live?”

Theo watches him but Robert can’t focus. “Of course, you did. That’s where we’re headed.”

Robert shakes his head, his movement feeling sluggish. “I don’t… I don’t remember telling you.”

When he blinks next, he’s in some kind of lobby, sitting in a chair. He looks around, confused, sweat covering his entire body as he shakes uncontrollably. He’s having a hard time focusing on things, his vision blurry and unfocused. Every once in a while the room will sway and it’ll make his stomach feel like it’s doing somersaults. Robert looks around the room for a bin he can be sick into just in case, but can’t find one.

Theo strides up next to him, lifts his arm, slinging it over his shoulder once more, and helping Robert out of the chair. “Come on.”

He’s cold, that’s why he’s shivering. He’s naked and he’s cold and where is he? Robert looks around again, limbs feeling heavy, and he’s in a room, a hotel room by the looks of it - he doesn’t remember how he got there - with Theo sitting on the edge of the bed, back towards him and fumbling with his… his trainers?

“Wasn’t I going home?” He’s confused. Robert meant to go home. Why is he here? Did Robert tell the taxi driver to bring them here? No, no Robert wouldn’t cheat on Aaron. Not again. Not ever again.

Right?

“Theo…”

Theo turns to him, pulling his shirt over his head. He leans over, kissing Robert softly. “Shh, it’s fine.”

Robert blinks and groans as his heart pounds in his ears. His head feels like there is a hammer inside of it and his body is sticky with sweat. He’s lying on his stomach and Robert groans, the light overhead making his eyes hurt. He tries to bury his face into the pillow but grimaces when his face is met with wetness and the stench of vomit. Turning his head back to the side, his eyes roam over the room. He was expecting to see his bedroom, Aaron next to him, but is confused when he sees unfamiliar wallpaper. Where the hell is he?

Swallowing, he makes to get up, arms feeling weak as he tries to push up. When he bends his right leg to get leverage, fiery hot pain shoots up from his back. He hisses and immediately lies back down, breathing hard. That’s when he realizes it doesn’t just feel like sweat that has made his body sticky. There’s another semi-dry substance on his back and between his cheeks. His stomach churns and Robert has to swallow multiple times to try and keep from being sick, something he has obviously already done but can’t remember doing so.

Did he really get drunk and bring a stranger to a hotel room? No… no, he only had a few drinks. Definitely not enough to get shit faced. No, something else… Theo, Theo had gotten him a drink. Did he get drunk from that one? He couldn’t have. It didn’t taste very strong and besides, he wouldn’t have slept with some random bloke. He doesn’t do that anymore. He knows he doesn’t. Then… then the only explanation is…

Robert groans again, feels the bile rise up his throat, and jumps out of bed to try and make it to the toilet in time. He doesn’t and he ends up vomiting on the floor, pain shooting throughout his entire body. His legs shake with the effort of keeping himself up, one hand supporting his weight on the nightstand. He can feel something dripping down the inside of his thighs and Robert really needs to get out of there.

Frantically, he searches the room for his clothes and when he finds them, he pulls them back on with great effort, trying to ignore the pain his body is in. When fully clothed, he stumbles out of the room and makes his way slowly to the front desk where he tries not to show his discomfort. “Hi, checking out.”

“Name?” the receptionist asks him.

Robert hesitates, not knowing what name Theo put the room under. “Uh, I don’t know what it’s under.”

The receptionist frowns at him and Robert feels his face grow hot in embarrassment. “What room number was it?”

Robert shakes his head. “I-I don’t know.”

Her frown grows more prominent. “Do you have the card key? I can’t check you out if-”

Robert’s stomach flips again. “Just never mind.” He pushes off the counter and heads to the front doors, ignoring the woman’s calls. They’ll just have to figure it out themselves.

When he exits the building, he isn’t expecting it to be pitch black out. Screwing up his eyebrows, he looks at the time on his watch and groans in dismay. It’s half past one in the morning. Aaron is going to be freaking out. Robert quickly gets a taxi and tells the driver where to go, wishing he would drive faster as Robert pulls out his mobile. He has a few texts from Aaron.

From Aaron: received 23:02

Where are you?

From Aaron: received 00:24

When I said to have fun, I didn’t mean stay out this late, Robert

From Aaron: received 01:13

If you think I’m waiting up for you any longer, then you’re wrong

Shit. How is he going to explain this to Aaron? When he said he was going to be home late earlier, he had meant ten maybe eleven at the latest. Not almost two in the morning. Aaron is going to kill him and then when he finds out why Robert was so late, he’s going to resurrect him just to kill him again . Robert has to come up with an excuse and it has to be one that Aaron will believe. Aaron can never know he cheated again.

No, wait, he didn’t cheat. He… he can’t remember but he knows he didn’t cheat. That’s right, he already came to that conclusion earlier in the hotel room. Robert lays his aching head on the window, getting confused again. No, Theo… Theo gave him a drink. That’s when he started to feel weird, after he had drank it. So something… the drink. The drink had something to do with what happened. He can’t remember.

With a pain filled moan, he rubs at his face tiredly. The taxi driver is saying something to him, something about getting out and paying him. Robert lifts his head and looks out the window, eyebrows furrowing. He can’t be home yet. He doesn’t even remember half the drive there.

The drink must not be entirely out of his system yet.

Whatever was in the drink must not be out of his system yet.

Robert struggles out of the taxi and pulls out his wallet and pays the taxi driver. He stumbles up the drive, to The Mill, and fumbles with the keys for almost two minutes before he finally gets his coordination correct to unlock the door. When he enters, everything is quiet and Aaron is nowhere in sight. Glancing at the stairs, he contemplates attempting to climb them but his legs are shaky again and the room is spinning once more.

He barely makes it to the sofa before he collapses on top of it and passes back out.

———————————————————————————————————–

A/N: I haven’t written in months and I feel like the beginning of this chapter shows it, but hopefully it got better as it went.

I have so many British Slang/words links saved that it’s ridiculous.

Also, yes, I know how unrealistic it is for investors to send their kids to the dinner celebration. That’s the wonderful thing about writing. I can have anything happen even though in reality it would probably never happen, lol!

Thank you for reading! I hope you stick around even though I know nothing about the UK and how you all talk. If you want to give me any pointers, please feel free. Am I using too much slang? Should I use arse instead of ass? Let me know! I’m always willing to learn. ^_^

#Emmerdale #Aaron Dingle #Robert Sugden #Robron #My Fanifction #Take it All Away

8 notes · View notes

goodomensblog · 6 years ago

Text

Afterward - Part 10

A Good Omens Choose Your Own Adventure Fic

Here’s how it works:

I’ll write a scene.

At the end of each scene, you’ll be presented with 2-3 options for what the characters will choose to do next.

Comment or reblog to vote for your choice. I’ll count all votes after the first 24 hours after each update is posted.

Read: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9

(#1 won this round! It’s heist timeeee)

Afterward - - Part 10

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

“...so, in summation, we, well - slightly bent the rules and kept the jar of Hellfire.”

“How?”

“Swapped out the real jar with a fake and,” Gabriel shrugs, “the demon didn’t notice when he brought it back. Truthfully, the poor guy seemed a little-,” he stops, awkwardly grimacing as he taps a finger against his head.

“Idiot,” Beelzebub hisses, fingers curling, piercing the couch with jagged holes.

Gabriel waves a hand, and the shredded couch knits together.

“Works out for us though,” Crowley says.

Beelzebub, slumping in exhaustion, manages a nod. Extending a sharp nail, they reach out, poking a fresh hole in the newly repaired couch.

Aziraphale, glancing down, presses a staying hand on Beelzebub’s wrist.

“Rest,” he counsels. “Save your energy. We don’t know how long it will take Gabriel to return with the Hellfire.”

‘Me?”

Three sets of eyes are, at once, glaring at the Archangel.

“Obviously,” Crowley says, breaking the silence.

“Hey - I already told you it was here. I could have easily kept that to myself.”

“You are literally the only one here who can get it,” Crowley replies, incredulous.

“Yeah, well, I’m not going to,” Gabriel says, crossing his arms. “You all don’t even know what’s been going on in Heaven today. Frankly, it’s a mess. In fact, I should be out there right now, you know, doing my job. People are on high alert. It’s a whole thing. Even I couldn’t just walk on in and take the Hellfire.”

“Gabriel,” Beelzebub says, forcing their weak voice loud. “I’m not - I’m not asking you for a favor. I know - I know you wouldn’t - If you do this, I’ll pay up - I’ll pay up later. You know I’m good for it,” Beelzebub hisses, forehead creasing in pain. “Anything. Just - ugh,” shivering, the demon heaves a wheezing breath and goes quiet.

Their dark gaze turns up, dull and half-lidded, as if they already know what the Archangel’s answer will be.

Gabriel had listened, holding himself rigid, posture perfectly straight. And now that Beelzebub has silenced, Gabriel turns his head down, nostrils flaring. He shakes his head.

“I cannot-”

“You can. And you will,” Aziraphale interrupts.

Gabriel turns at the interruption, lips curling into a sneer.

Aziraphale, bracing his hands on the couch, presses up. Beelzebub watches him rise, dark eyes unreadable.

Hands fisted at his sides, Aziraphale turns. Standing straight, he looks at Gabriel, head tilted to meet his eyes.

“You’ll retrieve the Hellfire. Because Beelzebub is dying. And it is within your power to save them. And because,” and when Aziraphale pauses, drawing a breath, his wings flicker in and out of existence on this plane - and they don’t look quite right - but they’re gone before Crowley can see more than a glance.

“It is the right thing to do,” Aziraphale finishes, head held high.

“You don’t get to decide what is right-”

“I just did,” Aziraphale snaps. His fists are trembling.

Crowley, circling around Gabriel, curls his fingers, knuckles cracking as nails shift to claws. “I’d listen to the angel, Archangel.”

“Fighting will draw attention. Thought you wanted to avoid that, seeing as you are a traitor,” Gabriel says, shifting to keep both angel and demon within sight.

“Oh, I would prefer it, yes. However, I’m starting to think Heaven might be otherwise occupied today. What did you call it? A mess?” Aziraphale asks, stepping into a stance Crowley recognizes. Last time he’d stood like this, he was holding a flaming sword. “So I’m wondering if they’d notice a power surge at all. Especially from the residence of an Archangel.”

Shivers climb Crowley’s spine, because this is a side of Aziraphale he doesn’t get to see very often. Smiling, sharp as a knife, Crowley prowls, matching Aziraphale’s stance.

“Just say the word, Aziraphale,” Crowley calls, gleeful.

He does usually prefer more creative methods to outright violence. But for Gabriel, who sent Aziraphale to burn with a cold, guiltless smile, Crowley is happy to make an exception.

“I don’t want to drag you into this, Crowley,” Aziraphale says, eyes on Gabriel as he circumvents the coffee table.

“Please angel, you’d have to drag me out of it.”

Crowley is moving opposite Aziraphale, keeping the Archangel perfectly between them.

Gabriel spins, trying to face both of them at once.

“You have a choice to make, Gabriel,” Aziraphale calls.

“I can take you. Both of you,” Gabriel replies, the nervous edge in his voice undercutting his bold words.

“Maybe,” Aziraphale says - as Crowley calls out:

“Can you though?”

Violet eyes flick back and forth between them - and then to Beelzebub, pale and sunken on the couch.

Crowley is almost disappointed to see the fight go out of him.

Tension bleeding from his rigid spine, Gabriel shrinks back. Letting out a string of sharp, ancient curses, Gabriel drags a hand down his face.

“Fine,” he says, vitriolic. “But I am not touching that damned jar. Someone will have to risk coming with me.”

Cold eyes look to Crowley.

“Fine by me.”

Aziraphale, gaping, scurries between them. “No - no. Not fine.” Eyes wide, Aziraphale turns on Crowley. “You are not going out there. Not with him.”

“I can probably disguise myself well enough for a quick trip to the - er, wherever. Like Lil’ Gabbie said-”

“That is not my name.”

“Like Gabbers said, Heaven’s preoccupied today,” Crowley shrugs - and it has not escaped his notice that Gabriel has yet to reveal what precisely has Heaven so worked up.

“They won’t notice me if I take steps to conceal myself. Besides,” and here Crowley pauses, lowering his voice. “Best someone keeps an eye on our favorite Archangel anyway. Ensure he doesn’t make any extra stops along the way.”

“I’m right here. I can hear literally everything you’re saying.”

Crowley, casually flicking his middle finger over Aziraphale’s shoulder, continues.

“Really angel. I’ll be fine. More than fine once I get my hands on the Hellfire.”

Behind Aziraphale, Gabriel shifts, his already rigid posture stiffening.

“Yeah, stop that. I’m not going to waste it on your sorry ass, Archangel.”

“Try it and I’d smite you where you stood.”

And then Aziraphale is turning, and the air is vibrating around them.

“Touch him and I swear to God that I will end you, Gabriel,” Aziraphale says, the terrible timbre of truth resounding with a buzzing pressure, laying weight to his every word.

Crowley’s skin is prickling - in reaction to both the gathering power and Aziraphale’s words; heart in his throat, he reaches out, placing a staying hand on Aziraphale’s arm.

Electricity sparks between them. It is red - no blue, no, it’s black and white and silver and gold and -

Angel and demon start, pulling apart.

The electricity fizzles out, curling and twisting into nothing, like smoke from a doused flame.

Crowley glances up, meeting Aziraphale’s startled gaze.

“What…?”

“I don’t know,” Aziraphale answers, pale and hushed.

Behind them, Gabriel heaves a deep, exhausted sigh.

“You two had to go fuck up something else, didn’t you?”

“We didn’t-” Aziraphale starts, bristling - then halts, glancing down at his wrist.

Crowley turns his own wrist over, inspecting the cut that is, by now, nearly healed.

“Huh.”

“Yeah huh. Look, I’ll deal with whatever fuckery you two managed to create later. You want the Hellfire or not?” Gabriel glances, as if on impulse, back at the couch.

Beelzebub’s eyes have drifted closed.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale says, turning.

“I’ll be back before you know it, angel. Promise,” Crowley says, and believes it - because lying to his angel about something like this would be unforgivable.

As if he can feel the truth, resonant, in Crowley’s words, Aziraphale stops. Lips pressing together, he looks Crowley up and down. Brows curving, concerned skin wrinkling between them, he says, chin quivering, “Crowley, I-”

“Are we going or not? Come on.”

Crowley reaches out, brushing his knuckles over the back of Aziraphale’s hand. There are no sparks, but Aziraphale, nonetheless, shivers beneath the touch.

“Don’t open the door for anyone, angel,” Crowley says, and with a snap, shifts his body.

The Archangel Michael stands, slouching, in the center of the room. Pursing golden lips, Crowley removes his dark glasses.

“Seriously,” Gabriel says, flat and exhausted, “What happens if we run into the real one?”

Hands on his hips, Crowley shrugs, arching one of Michael’s manicured brows.

“I am the real one. I’m walking around with the Archangel fucking Gabriel. The other one’s clearly the impostor.”

Eyes rolling to the ceiling, Gabriel heaves a deep breath. “Fine. Let’s just -”

Beelzebub, reaching out, grabs hold of Gabriel’s pants.

“Ten minutes,” Beelzebub says, voice quieter than a whisper. “Think I can last...ten more minutes. Understand....asshole?”

Gabriel’s expression is impossible to read. Lips pressing together in a hard, flat line, he drags his leg loose of Beelzebub’s grasp.

“Hey,” Gabriel calls with a sharp look toward Crowley and Aziraphale. “Is this happening, or not?”

Crowley, flicking his fingers in a mocking salute, gives Aziraphale one last lingering look.

“Be back soon, angel.”

“I believe you,” Aziraphale says. Eyes wide, and hands wringing in front of him, he watches as Crowley step up to the door.

“Gabriel,” Aziraphale calls as the door swings open. “What I said earlier - I meant it. Don’t lay a hand on him.”

Gabriel, casting a withering glance back into the apartment, slams the door.

Tapping a heel against gleaming marble floor, Crowley turns a long look at the arching halls.

Heaven.

“Try not to sully it with your sin,” Gabriel says, and sets off at a brisk pace down the hall.

Crowley, sneering at the back of his head, flips him off with Michael’s manicured hand, and strides purposefully after.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

After six thousand years, Crowley again walks Heaven’s halls….

A fun one this time! Choose how much energy Crowley will devote to “getting along” with Gabriel on their Hellfire acquisition mission:

0% energy - Crowley will be 100% bastard. Because Gabriel is the actual worst and he deserves it.

50% energy - Crowley will be reasonably civil - unless Gabriel is really asking for it. They do have limited time, but Crowley isn’t about to let Gabriel walk all over him.

100% energy - Crowley promised Aziraphale that he would return unscathed. If he has to play nice with Gabriel to ensure his safe return, he will.

Comment or reblog to vote :) (ALSO thank you all so much for voting and participating in this! I just absolutely love reading your thoughts behind why you are voting for any given option.)

Read Part 11 Here

#my writing #good omens fic #good omens fanfiction #good omens fanfic #ineffable husbands #ineffable husbands fanifction #ineffable husbands fanfic #ineffable husbands fic #aziraphale #crowley #good omens beelzebub #good omens gabriel #ineffable bureaucracy #eventually maybe #good omens #HELLFIRE HEAVEN HEIST IS A GO

737 notes · View notes