Apart from giving Adam some encouragement and some time to think, I think we actually had very little to do with how well things went. He did most of it on his own.
[ And also a gaggle of children stabbed some Horsemen, but that??? Honestly, Aziraphale is still fucking processing that one. What even was that whole day.
It's possible to sound proud of the two of them for failing so hard that someone else succeeded for them and to sound proud of a kid that he tried to shoot and then only knew for ten minutes or so. It's possible, because Aziraphale is sounding just that. Aziraphale has always been easy. ]
Despite our best incompetent efforts, the real Antichrist turned out to be a delightfully, perfectly imperfect human. [ Which is to say, like most people, capable of quite a lot if given love and half a chance. ] Set the world back to rights overnight.
[ He's trying to embrace those parts, to let himself lean into the real joy left over from them. Because there's an unavoidable ache that comes with relaying everything secondhand to Crowley despite the fact that Crowley was there for it. For all the chaos and terror and relief, the long quiet night after. For Heaven and Hell. All of it.
If the memory's really gone, if Crowley doesn't get it back, it isn't going to be exactly the same. Maybe not unrecognizably different, but still different.
(What else might he lose, he doesn't think. Which is to say that Aziraphale thinks it, very clearly, and then tries extremely hard to repress it for now. Repression is his most utilized life skill.) ]
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[ And also a gaggle of children stabbed some Horsemen, but that??? Honestly, Aziraphale is still fucking processing that one. What even was that whole day.
It's possible to sound proud of the two of them for failing so hard that someone else succeeded for them and to sound proud of a kid that he tried to shoot and then only knew for ten minutes or so. It's possible, because Aziraphale is sounding just that. Aziraphale has always been easy. ]
Despite our best incompetent efforts, the real Antichrist turned out to be a delightfully, perfectly imperfect human. [ Which is to say, like most people, capable of quite a lot if given love and half a chance. ] Set the world back to rights overnight.
[ He's trying to embrace those parts, to let himself lean into the real joy left over from them. Because there's an unavoidable ache that comes with relaying everything secondhand to Crowley despite the fact that Crowley was there for it. For all the chaos and terror and relief, the long quiet night after. For Heaven and Hell. All of it.
If the memory's really gone, if Crowley doesn't get it back, it isn't going to be exactly the same. Maybe not unrecognizably different, but still different.
(What else might he lose, he doesn't think. Which is to say that Aziraphale thinks it, very clearly, and then tries extremely hard to repress it for now. Repression is his most utilized life skill.) ]