Author: afrai
Rating: R
Summary: Somewhere else the happy ending was different. An AU work-in-progress.
Feedback: makes me not hate my fic and break my pens (metaphorically speaking.) If you don't want to use the built-in review form, send it to [email protected].
Archive: Ask me, if you want.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman, distorted though they are now.
Warnings: Slash, evil, melodrama, largely off-screen violence. The usual.
Notes: I blame Mel, keeper of wonders, and the people of CrowleysAngels.

* * *

The Sacred And The Profane

* * *


The Bible is written from the human point of view. Among other things, this explains why it begins with the creation of the Earth.

This was before the beginning.

Before there was anything as humans know it, Lucifer fell.

As you can imagine, there was no end of a row in Heaven.

The angels did not gather, since there was no space to gather in. This was before creation, remember. But if there had been space, and they could have gathered, there would have been seas of amassed angels, watching with eyes they didn't have as Lucifer was thrown out of a place that wasn't there.

It's difficult to picture the occurrence in human terms, but the state of Heaven at the moment could be likened to that of a crowd watching a public hanging. There was horror. There was interest. There was excitement. There was selfish, grovelling, consuming terror.

And in some angelic minds, there was a question.

There was one angel who was thinking a question. He was a Principality, although his kind would only get that name later, when the lines were drawn and coloured in. Now he was just another angel, who watched the angel who would be Satan and thought.

Before the beginning, before the creation of material things, thoughts were as real as planets. If you thought the wrong thought, the planets could collide and turn to dust. You could cause a catastrophic supernova with a brain twitch.

He could have chosen a different path. Angels have free will, just like the wingless mortals who came later. Otherwise there wouldn't be demons. Demons aren't born; they're made.

He could have thought a different thought. In another universe he did.

Here, he did not.

Lucifer raged, and the angel thought,

If that could happen to the Morningstar . . .

In another universe, the thought stopped there. The angel remained an angel, although occasionally he was disturbingly wrathful.

Here, it did not.

If that could happen to the Morningstar . . .

. . . what about me?

And the angel turned to dust.