Chapter 3

"You've returned."

"There's no need to sound so disappointed, sister," the angel chided.

"Why have you returned, Traitor?" Uriel asked.

"Traitor?" they asked, incredulous.

"You have defied Her Plan too many times."

"And... do you know what the Plan is?"

Michael blinked. "The Apocalypse."

"Oh? How far is that?"

"It was... rescheduled."

"What about the Ineffable Plan? Is the Apocalypse a part of that?"

"That's what Crowley and I have said," Aziraphale piped up.

"Exactly, yes! And... oh, my dear, what happened to you?"

"The same thing that will happen to you." Uriel drew their sword.

The angel waved a hand. The sword clattered to the ground. "Now, really, there's no need for that." They knelt beside Aziraphale and spoke to him. "You poor darling, let me fix that. I'm not the best healer, but I have learned from her." They winked. Their hands began to glow golden.

Aziraphale looked between the stranger and the archangels. "Who... are you?"

"They call me many things. The Merciful One. God's Righteousness. Traitor, apparently. But She named me Zadkiel."

Aziraphale's mouth opened into an 'o'. "They all said you were dead!"

"What? No! No, I've just been... among the stars."

"...Crowley likes the stars."

"Enough about that demon," Michael snapped. "Get out of my way, Zadkiel, or I'll—"

"You will do no such thing, Michael," said Zadkiel. They stood to their full height, wings spread broad to create a shield between her and Aziraphale.

"You betrayed—"

"Silence!" a voice commanded.

The Voice.

Zadkiel knelt down, head bowed. The Metatron stood over them.

"You have made quite the entrance, Zadkiel," he said. "The humans are in a panic."

"My deepest apologies, sir. I made no intention to scare the innocent."

"As for you three, you attacked and attempted to kill the Supreme Archangel. I ought to have a very stern talking-to with you." With a snap of his fingers, the trio disappeared.

Aziraphale started coughing. The unfinished miracle that'd been holding his wounded side together started bleeding again.

Before any of them could say another word, a cry broke through.

"Aziraphale!"

All eyes turned to the approaching demon. Zadkiel leapt into action, once again standing to protect the injured angel. Their sword appeared in their hand. But they didn't attack.

"Crowley?" "Sister?"

"Get out of my way, you oaf." Crowley shoved past the angel and started fretting over his friend.

"Crowley, oh, I'm so sorry..."

"No, hey, we'll talk about that later. You're hurt."

"I've been stabbed."

"Yeah, no shit!" He lunged for the sword Zadkiel had knocked to the ground. In their shock, they didn't attempt to stop him. Crowley pointed the sword at them. "What did you do? Did you do this to him?"

They held up their hands in surrender. "No! No, I would never!"

His hand shook for a moment. With a sigh, he lowered the weapon. "Where are the others?"

They looked at the Metatron for answers. Crowley's eyes darkened when he saw him. "You. How fucking dare you. You've fucking ruined everything!"

"I've done nothing wrong."

"What happened?" Zadkiel asked.

"I'll deal with you later. Muriel, help Aziraphale get back to the elevator. Zadkiel, if you're not going to help me, leave."

Their face hardened. "What do you need me to do, sister?" They readied their blade.

"The two traitors, working together again," said the Metatron, disgusted.

"I don't want to fight you," said Zadkiel. "I just want to protect my sister."

"Leave. All of you."

They nodded. Their swords both vanished. Zadkiel scooped up the injured angel. They headed for the elevator.

"Sister, you're better at this than I. I'll aid you in bringing your friend wherever you need, but I'll at the very least need your aid to heal him."

"Yeah, I know. Hide your wings, dingus."

Zadkiel did. Aziraphale grabbed his friend's hand.

"Um, excuse me, sir?" Muriel asked. "May I ask something?"

"Of course!"

"Who are you?"

"They've called me a l—"

"Zadkiel," Crowley said. "Their name's Zadkiel."

"Oh, I've heard of you! Everyone said you were dead!"

"I've been off in the stars. But I recently found a particular nebula and realized my mistake in leaving."

Crowley looked away. Then back at Zadkiel. "Which one?"

"Eta Carinae."

He frowned. "That's..."

"That first one you made on your own," they confirmed.

"Is it still pretty?"

"It's beautiful."

"You made the stars too?" Aziraphale asked.

"That's what the Dominions were made for. She—" They paused. "Are you okay with me calling you such?"

"Whatever. Just don't call me that name."

"Wait, what... What name?"

"My angelic name."

"What was it?" asked Aziraphale.

"Raphael."