So I'll go, but I know

[mekachu04]

So I'll go, but I know (3117 words) by Mekachu04
Fandom: Good Omens (TV)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Characters: Crowley (Good Omens), Minor Characters, Original Characters
Additional Tags: Lucifer is implied to be Lucifer (TV), rewritting irl dogma fo my own narrative needs, Hurt!Crowley, Crowley's Fall (Good Omens), Crowley Was Not Raphael Before Falling (Good Omens), Aziraphale Was Raphael (Good Omens), Principalities outranking Archangels is Crowley's fault, Crowley's Name is Crawly | Crawley (Good Omens), Aziraphale Being an Asshole (Good Omens), Lucifer is not Satan, No beta we fall like Crowley, who was pushed btw, most of what we know about angels is kinda wrong, and that's crowley's fault, some times it was by accident, some times it's cause crowley was being a little shit, Aziraphale was a cherubim, Aziraphale was a warrior, smite-y aziraphale, Pre-Canon


Ties in with the I'll think of you every step of the way universe, but doesn't fit in the narrative of that story. This is more Crowley's side to that story, with hints of Aziraphale, while I'll think of you every step of the way was the reverse. I do recommend reading this second as it is meant to expand on ideas that have already been introduced, or at least wait until after chapter 6

Series: Part 2 of Every Step



While this was written specifically while writing I'll think of you every step of the way it was also written in the same few days as Whenever this world is cruel to me and a future upcoming crossover, A Devil Put Aside, and some of the things mentioned here are also referenced in those pieces, though they do not impact either story, so are not included in the 'Every Step' series.

title from 'I Will Always Love You' by Whitney Houston

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   It should be noted that what humans actually know about Heaven is mostly wrong.

   It's not their fault. It's just the only one willing to talk about Heaven can't actually remember too much about it. Humans have this idea the streets are paved with gold, but really, Crowley was trying to explain the golden ichor that stained every surface of Heaven during the First War; the very essence of slaughtered angels painted paradise in a horrifying warm glow.

   Another example is that there is also no archangel or seraph named Raphael.

   In fact, most of the idea of the spheres humans have a a bit wrong, but Crowley delights in the misconceptions. The fact humans think nearly every order of angels are higher than the archangels is one of the things he is the most proud of, even if neither angels nor demons appreciate it. But it makes him happy, and it is always a great card to play when Aziraphale is melancholy because of a reprimand of sorts from upstairs. "You know," he'll slide up to the principality, comfortable as always in each other's space, "As far as humans are concerned, you outrank -insert which boss has told him off this time."

   Never fails to gain him a soft little smile.

   What human's don't quite get is that archangel is more of a title or a rank. Archangels are the top dogs - the leaders of specific divisions. Like security. Or sanitation. It's not a species. And while there is definitely a hierarchy, the spheres are split a little differently. The first sphere are the most powerful. The Seraphim, Cherubim and Thrones, and while the idea of them are something more fantastical humans can wrap their minds around, they are not in anyway human looking. They have entirely too many limbs and eyes and wings, and some parts that done't exist in earth at all. Some of them walked along Man in the Garden, but once Man had eaten from the Tree they could no longer look upon the first sphere without loosing their minds. Such as, the first sphere rarely go to earth unless there is some Holy Smiting to be done.

   The second sphere are the angels that human minds struggle to comprehend on every level. Dominions, Virtues and Powers all move effortlessly between all of the almighty's realms, but they are formless and beautiful. The closest humans could compare them to is a storm of cosmic dust. With extreme difficulty, the first sphere can inhabit a corporation for short periods of time, the second sphere can not. 

   The last sphere, the ones humans have unknowingly interacted with on a day to day basis is the only one Crowley really knows anything about, the Principalities, Messengers, and Guardians. They are the earth bound angels, the ones who, as a part of God's ineffable plan, had been created to look like man - long before there was a thing as human. The three ranks all looked identical from a celestial point of view, but where distinguishable by how holy they shown. Guardians had been looked down upon by the host for looking so dull, a rough place to be before time was started. A lot of them had fallen in with Samael because of it.

   When man was cast out of the Garden, it was the Guardians who could walk among with with the most ease. They didn't even need a corporation, so close to humans already, with a light too dull for humans to see. Messengers did just as their name stated. They did need a corporation when walking among humans, but only because they naturally shown a little too bright, so often conversed with them in dreams instead of binding themselves to a fleshly form.

   Principality shown bright even with a corporation, but that was by design. It wasn't enough for humans to see but it was enough for them to feel. It caused humans to defer to them, but also to flock to them in when in peril. It also meant that Principalities where easily spotted by both Heaven and Hell as well, so while it caused humans to fall in line, it made them prime targets for demons.

   And demons...

   Crowley takes no claim on who spilled the beans to Dante, and simply defends himself by stating that he'd never give up any details on Hell to Humans or Heaven, and if he was, he'd been much more creative about it. Although he might be responsible for the whole Lucifer - Satan confusion

   Lucifer Morningstar, Lucifer the Light-Bringer, Lucifer the most beloved of Heaven's Host, was the God of Hell. He was also possibly an ally, and fickle as fuck. He cared about no one but himself, but also graciously rewarded those who pledged to him loyalty. And sometime after the British Invasion of the rest of the human world had started, he'd wandered out of Hell and moved to Perth, Australia for a while. Last Crowley heard, the true Master of Hell was in, ironically, Los Angeles.

   Satan was the first Prince of Darkness, one of the First Ones, and a bitter anger boss who was quick to punish. He might have actually been the First Fallen One, but Lucifer had been God's Favorite; Lucifer was the leader of the rebellion; and Lucifer was the First to crawl out of the pit. And Satan resented that Lucifer had become Hell's Master instead of him.

   Easier to just let humans think it was one person. They didn't need to worry about Hell's political climate. All humans needed to know was the pecking order. There was the Greater Demons - the former angels. They were First Ones, the Fallen Ones, and the Cast Away. Then there were the Lesser Demons, Lilith's Demons, and her Monsters. And then it was the damned souls of men who'd some come into their own powers. As long as Man was aware that they were the bottom here, then they'd be fine.

   Most of the demons on Earth where Lesser Demons, actually. They were bitter at humans for not having to live in Hell and lived along the lines of 'if I must suffer, so must you.' Greater Demons however still held a deep seated hatred of humans, bred from Lucifer's blinding rage that God choose Man over him, but it was usually only the Fallen Ones who bothered with Earth. The Fallen loved to toy with humans, to pick one and spend decades ruining every facet of their lives. Lesser Demons didn't kill humans outright because they didn't have the power. The Fallen didn't kill humans outright because it was more satisfying to torture them.

   The First Ones' anger actually had them bound them Hell for the most part; their rage reacted badly with the residual grace left on earth form creation.

   The Cast Away...

   See, as the First War started to wrap up, the angel who would be Satan called a retreat. Lucifer would forever call him a coward, but had followed after none the less, fleeing Heaven. Those who'd taken arms on his behalf fled with him, Michael and her angels giving chase. Many angels on both sides continued to fall - the only names in the rebellion that where not lost, ironically. If you died during the First War, regardless of what side, your name was still recorded in the Hall of Records.

   Most think the tear was a sign of Lucifer's Power. That he ripped a hole in God's Universe to escape. Other's, with loyalty still to Heaven, say that it is impossible for anyone but God to undo God's work to such a degree. But they also balk at the idea that it must have been God then, who opened the tear for her once Favorite.

   Regardless, there was a tear - and it was the first door to what would be Hell. The edges burned with the holy wrath of God, promising unimaginable agony to any who passed though. It was a promise of a point of no return, and action with irrevocable consequences. As Crowley has been told by countless retellings, Satan flew though first, and you could hear his screams though every point of creation. He thinks he might remember those screams, and the First Ones fled though the tear. The First Ones went 'willingly' as much as they had any choice in the matter.

   The Fallen where gathered and forced though; no quarter given to those who'd taken up arms against God.

   Crowley wasn't one of them.

   He wasn't suppose to remember. It was suppose to be a kindness, that he could not remember. Lucifer had not allowed anyone to tell him what had happen, not in the beginning.

   In the time when there still was not time, a time when he was still Crawly, he would learn second hand what had happen to him in Heaven. The Fallen had told him, they had told him as a cruelty, hoping the despair would finish killing off that had survived the pit.

   That Crawly was unwanted by both Heaven and Hell. He'd been Cast Away, dumped in Hell as nothing more than trash Heaven didn't want to look at anymore. He could remember that then. He remembered hearing about the First War starting in Heaven, of angels killing each other. He'd been far off from the fighting at the beginning, working in the stars. They were makers, not warriors, but Crawly and his associates had been called to the front lines, called to fight for their Almighty. And He'd taken the call to heart, and traveled back, ready to defend a Creator he loved.

   Until he'd seen his brothers and friends across both sides of the fighting. He'd wavered, uncertain as to who he was meant to defend. He'd even tried to talk his brother's down, had turned to Lucifer and begged him to stop this blood shed, to halt this intent to harm. "It's important," God's once-favourite had told him, "Take up arms brother, and defend yourself against a Mother who no longer loves us." The Angel Who Would Be Crawly shook his head in horror. Lucifer had not struck him down, but had told him to run and hide. Because if Lucifer saw him again, he'd strike him down himself for turning away from the Morningstar.

   The angel who would later be the known for crawling behind the damned, had fled. He'd hidden, calling for God for guidance. Begging Her to intervene, and to stop the slaughter. 

   And then the screaming started. Angels flung themselves though a tear in the universe, willingly having Her Grace burned out of them. The self-righteous let them go, unwilling to follow after if it meant loosing Her forever. The battlefields went quiet, angels coming out of hiding to play witness to the screams in horror.

   A second round of screaming began. Those who fought against God being rounded up and forced though the tear. Have Her Graced Burned from them, or let their blood paint the streets.

   Then the cherubim marched the streets. They gathered up the angels who'd hidden, To-Be-Crawly among them, and they moved down the line of those gathered, quick and efficient executions. There was no place to run, no place to hide, and none of them were strong enough to overpower the Warriors of God. They watched in terrified horror as they were slaughtered, and no one cared.

   As the screams echoing out from the stars died away to be replaced with the whimpers and begging in the streets of Heaven, the Archangels finally intervened. Chameal and Azeral called for a stop to all things, the cherubim halting in place as the good soldiers that they are. Uriel and Gabriel gathering up the captured angels, ordering them to follow Micheal.

   "They are traitors to Her! They may have well taken up arms, they Refused to defend her!" There was only one cherub who had not stood down at the Archangels arrivals, instead passionately defending their actions to Micheal as she walked past him. 

   "No, Raphael, this is not Her Will."

   "Perhaps it would be a kindness." He hears Ariel murmur as they are marched out of Heaven, "Can they ever recover from this?"

   They are marched across the Skies. It took Crawly a long time to remember this, to piece together the crippling fear that had fragmented the memories of the march and the agony that had followed. It had taken even longer to remember what was next.

   He was Crawly because he was one of the last to crawl from the pits. He was christened by Lucifer who watched him drag himself from the lake on the other side of the tear. His new God, who did not react out to help him, but stood and watched, before turning away. But he walked slow, never faster then Crawly could follow.

   If that was all there was to remember, then he might still be Crawly, following - but never worshiping - his beautifully flawed god.

   Earth changed things, and humans questioned. They questioned everything, and as Crawly began to spin fantastic yarns about things he barely remembered, things started to form in his mind as he says them, faint memories slinking back to him. As the Ceasers came to power in Rome, one of the Fallen Dukes, Hastur, sneers and asks how Crawly's been. The way he says it, how he's gleeful in the name, sparks something deep in Crawly's trauma.

   There aren't very many Cast Away'd. Most of the terrified angels Soon-To-Be-Crawly had huddled with never swam free of the lake. Crawly started digging around, asking questions. There are other Cast Aways, but they all came after him. No demons were created between him and the last of Lucifer's followers. 

   There are none, because Hastur slaughtered them.

   Crowley remembers it, in the shadows of an encroaching Rome, pulling free of the lake. He always remembered the pain, but this time, it's clearer. It's not just the burning from loosing Her Grace, it's not just the agony of the lake, and the exhaustion from pulling himself though the surface.

   There are newly recovered demons waiting at the shore. But instead of helping, they wait with claws and fangs and knives, and they tear into the To-Be-Crawly the moment he is in reach, ripping away parts of him that he'd clung to in the fall. Hastur was literally ripping into his core when Lucifer arrived in the end, demanding the demons halt and explain themselves.

   "Seems like Heaven's cleaning house," Hastur had said, ripping out another piece, "Their trash keeps trying to crawl their way in."

   "That's enough, Hastur," Lucifer spoke, voice calm and unaffected. He knelt down to where Hastur has To-Be-Crawly pinned; the demon was kneeling too, no one is allowed to stand over God, even if theirs is now a disfigured monster. He regarded the new comer, before looking out at the fading corpses of those who came before him. "Let them come. If Heaven doesn't want to love them, I will. If they can crawl their way before me, I will welcome them as their new god."

   He stood, Hastur taking his cue to scramble away as the Devil regards the first Cast Away. "Crawl on then," Hastur sneered, prodding him forward.

 

   It's a small change, but he refuses to crawl anymore after that. He hasn't been a snake in centuries - it so hard to find legs again when he's a snake. It's easy to drop to his belly, but it's never gotten any easier to stand up after. He doesn't know who he will be after, for a long time just calling himself Not Crawling. Not Crawling avoided summons to Hell for updates as he spread discord and strife around the forming Europe civilizations. It's cold and miserable, and no one looks for him there.

   It's in the north where he tangles with something that might be an elder-god, or a very powerful human, and he runs afoul with its familiars, angry vengeful ravens. They chase him over the mountains, and he finds himself being saved by the raven's cousins, some brilliant, and completely ordinary crows. There is nothing mystical or magical or otherworldly about those birds, but they felt companionable, and they took his side after he let them steal one of the gold clips he'd had in his hair. He looked after them for the rest of their mortal lives, and when he eventually made his way back to warmer grounds, he'd come to a new name for himself. His wings had been burned and singed black since the lake, but now they were preened and cleaned and a beautiful feather green-black of that of earth birds.

   Hell knew him as Not Crawly, but in Galilee, he first introduced himself as Crowley to a gentle carpenter whose aura was tainted with marks of Heaven. Even at first glance, Crowley knew the man was slated for something horrible, and could take no offence at being rebuked for approaching. But the man had not chased him away, and eventually, as they sat close together in the chill of a desert night, Crowley warned the man of what he could see in his future, had tried to urge him to take measures to save himself from such hurt.

   The second time he introduced himself with that name, he was there to bear witness to the agony of the man who did not deserve it, and found himself alone again the one member of Host. He'd believed them when he said he wan't there to mock. His strange angel companion, and sometimes friend, who did not act, but still refused to look away.

   He would go on to confront Lucifer after that, would tell his Lord that he was refusing the name he'd been given on the day of Lucifer's mercy. He didn't call it a rejection, but he did not defend himself when the Morningstar asked if that was what it was- If Crowley was rejecting his god's mercy and compassion.

   "You can try and keep whatever name you want, serpent, but never forget what you are. She cursed you, not I. I took you in, and I made you great again. You can not be anything but mine. Mind that forked tongue of yours in my presence, and don't dare speak to me again about this. I will call you what I want, Crawly. Snake. Belly Dragger."

   He sent Crowley away, assigned him to Caligula's courts as long as the human breathed. 

   He also never called him Crawly again. However, he did call him darling, something he could not help flinching from as the Principality called that as well.