Alec Hardy (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
scotch_egg) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
tramitem_log2020-09-21 12:40 am
scotch_egg) wrote in tramitem_log2020-09-21 12:40 am
The Holiday from Hell
Who: Alec, Anthony, Ellie and Fell
What: Going on a house sitting holiday toterrifying jolly old England.
When: 09/20-09/30
Where: Across the Pond.
Alec squinted at the house as it rose on the horizon. He was tired and jet lagged from the plane. Tired and sore from the long ride over bumpy roads in a small cab, crowded against one window by Ellie who was smushed in the middle with Anthony on the other side. Fell, being the guest, took up the front seat and was probably cramping Anthony's legs all to pieces with how much room he left which Alec felt strangely justified in.
Anyway, that house held memories, both good and bad and, mostly terrifying, but he was oddly looking forward to it. After all, everything was a little bit frightening until you knew its secrets.
---
Info on Abaddon House and the environs
What: Going on a house sitting holiday to
When: 09/20-09/30
Where: Across the Pond.
Alec squinted at the house as it rose on the horizon. He was tired and jet lagged from the plane. Tired and sore from the long ride over bumpy roads in a small cab, crowded against one window by Ellie who was smushed in the middle with Anthony on the other side. Fell, being the guest, took up the front seat and was probably cramping Anthony's legs all to pieces with how much room he left which Alec felt strangely justified in.
Anyway, that house held memories, both good and bad and, mostly terrifying, but he was oddly looking forward to it. After all, everything was a little bit frightening until you knew its secrets.
---
Info on Abaddon House and the environs
no subject
"I'd get on my knees and pray for forgiveness but you'd never get me back up again."
There are some lingering patches of holiness perhaps, but not here, and not anywhere he'd show Anthony. The funniest thing was, there was no reason not to show Anthony. He might even get a kick out of it. But this place had always been his secret and his alone.
Still it was nice to know that it would live on after him, maybe into eternity if this Angel thing panned out. Not that it would last that long.
Across the sub-basement then to a tiny door which he pushed open and ducked through. The wood gave way to concrete with a room or two branching off, not that you could tell in the darkness.
"They started to build a bomb shelter here in 1943." His voice is a whisper as he sweeps the torch around in the cold empty rooms, barely looking big enough to hold a dozen families let alone everyone from the village. "But the man in charge of planning it died under mysterious circumstances not far from here. Some say he was strangled in the dark."
There were actually several tales about him, though the one Alec knew was probably true he wouldn't relate to Fell. Spooky stories were one thing, but depressing reality no one could quite shake even if they wanted to.
A sharp turn left here through what seemed to be a crack in the wall, the cold damp reaching up through the soles of his feet, and then he took a deep breath and pushed open the heavy wooden door.
There was a soft sigh, a gasp, a rush of air pressure no doubt, but nothing had changed here. Taking the torch in his fingers he let Fell glance around in the darkness. It was a crypt. An old one. So old that some were merely shrouds tucked into alcoves, rosaries sunk into their ribcage.
But in the center is a raised tomb, a woman in stone effigy, clutching a sword, her hair curled around her. She was no nun and no saint and who she might have been, he has no idea. He doesn't even dare touch the forehead though he used to do when he was younger, tracing the lines of her brow and nose and wondering.
"I used to sneak down here all the time just to get away, bring some books. One time I spent so long reading I fell asleep in the corner there and when I came back found they'd sent out a search party."
no subject
And then, through the next door, another grim reminder of mortality, another fragile relic. He looked, but he didn't dare touch. It wasn't his place.
A secret is a secret. This was Alec's secret and it was morphing from the fun, silly secret of playing Anthony's boogeyman, to something more somber. A solitary little boy found comfort in the dark depths of this house. It was holy, maybe not in the traditional sense, but this was a scared place to Alec and perhaps Alec alone. It was a bit, Aziraphale thought, like touching a piece of his soul.
He no longer regretted not going back to bed. He and Anthony had time, but this was a rare moment. It was an honor. It was humbling to be custodian of such a treasured secret and he wondered if he would ever have anything of equal value to share in exchange for the secrets the Crowleys had separately entrusted him with.
But, also... He once accompanied a friend up the coast to Maine. They walked the shoreline together and the man spoke in detail about visits in his youth, about his sister and his mother, now estranged from him, and about what those times meant to him. The man was dying and he was asking to for his ashes to be cast out here during the fall, when the leaves changed, because he had always loved the sunlight through the copper leaves. Maybe Aziraphale was wrong, maybe this wasn't that at all. Maybe.
"Alec." He let out a stunned breath as he reached out for Alec. This place felt the opposite of spooky. It felt sentimental and, maybe, a bit loved.
no subject
"It's funny... in the other life, this isn't here. In the other life -- there is murder. A little girl somewhere but I can't imagine I was any good to her. I didn't kill those kids at least, but... I was apparently investigating their deaths." He closes his eyes and leans his head back.
"Only the first one, I botched it up somehow. That poor girl in the water. I don't even know her name. I just know I was disgraced." He'd had that just before he left. That memory. That chilly knowledge. "And now this boy... so young... just lying there on the beach. Death shouldn't happen to the young, Fell. It should only happen to the old and weary and -- and the people that deserve it."
He wishes he could have been better, could have done more, even if he were an angel or a demon or anything except being someone just like he is. Maybe his heart is in the right place, but if he can't succeed in helping, what good is it?
no subject
The deaths of innocent children was a price they paid for Free Will. He wonders if it is truly worth it.
"I agree." How could a 'benevolent' God have allowed for such things in the world, he'll never understand. "However, he adds, hovering nearby, "I think people are perhaps too liberal with the term 'disgraced." He considers sitting down, but god knows what's down there. "I cannot imagine you doing anything that would rightfully justify falling from grace. You're a difficult man, but you're good, and human, and doggedly just."
He spares Alec from whatever emotion might be welling up in his eyes and settles his gaze on the dimly lit sword-bearer. "I don't imagine you would ever give up on those children. I imagine you would be their champion in a world that wronged them, even when the world wrongfully cast you out. That's not botching the job at all. That's commendable."
no subject
"Thanks... That means a lot." And oddly enough, it did. "And who knows, if I'm still alive there, maybe I'll solve it. Maybe I'll give some families peace if nothing else. That's better than nothing, isn't it?" But then he's done, his optimism is used up. He feels tired and weary and even the now cooled cocoa isn't doing much for him.
"And thank you for coming to see this place."
no subject
"You're welcome. Thank you," he says, "for inviting me." He wants to say more, to be better appreciative of this moment they've shared, but he leaves it at that, hoping Alec understands all that he means and has left unsaid in his brevity.
After a moment more of taking in the quiet serenity of the place, he holds out his hand to help Alec up. "Care to head back before they send out a search party?"
no subject
"Right so, first of all, let's just pretend to have the conversation where I send you on ahead and you protest and we argue until you finally leave with a sad face. It really saves a lot of time." He hands the torch up to Fell.
"It's just a straight shot and don't go anywhere else if you can help it. I'll show you around more later but some of the floors are just gone. Also don't worry about me, I still know this place in the dark."
no subject
"Alright." He leans down to fuss with the blanket, pulling it tighter around Alec's shoulders before stepping back, pleased enough with his handiwork. "Don't be late for breakfast, please."
Aziraphale wants to stay, lingering a moment longer as he fights off a protective instinct, disguising the dawdling as taking a last look around. But, trying to be respectful of Alec's wishes, he finally stops at the door.
"Goodnight, Alec."
no subject
"Night, Fell. Sweet dreams." He listens to him walk away, traces his passage as much as he can and subconsciously listens for the noise of splintering wood and high pitched screams. When, after a while, there's nothing but the quiet and the sighing of the wind, he relaxes.
The silence falls around him he closes his eyes, but doesn't sleep. There will be plenty of time for that and a short time coming.