"We're almost there now," Barty said, focusing on the road for the most part, but wanting to reassure Aziraphale. He'd had to conceive this plan in a hurry, but for the most part it wasn't that different from what he had already anticipated. Apart from how he was supposed to be older, which would change a lot.
But he couldn't wait any longer. He couldn't let them take his sunshine away. Hearing Aziraphale sob like that, he was sure something inside him had broken. "Are you hungry? I brought some snacks."
"Father will be most displeased, Barty." Aziraphale anxiously informed Barty as he tugged at the sleeves of his jumper. He had to get clothes on so fast, he didn't have time to dress properly or well for whatever occasion this was. In his jumper and cord pants, he was curled up in the passenger seat, watching Barty very curiously. He was still sore from his punishment yesterday and he didn't fancy causing another incident at home.
"I don't want him to be mad. I don't know if we're allowed out." Especially not this late. Especially not in Gabriel's car of all things. He looked up and smiled at the cross hanging from the wing mirror.
"No." But he probably ought to be, given he hadn't been able to make himself eat yesterday. Not after hearing Aziraphale be punished. Too much helpless anger inside him, such a desperate rage. He wanted to lash out, but he knew there was no point to that. A lot of danger in it. He knew he was doing the only smart thing. There were several ways this could play out, but all of them ensured that Aziraphale's life would be better. He'd be safe. That was the promise he had made to himself.
"I'm not letting anyone hurt you, Aziraphale. Not ever again. That's all you have to know. Trust me." He stopped at the light, checking the secret phone he had to see whether he was going the right way. It seemed right. He wished he had had the time to call ahead to Wesley. Whatever. It was just the beginning of this plan.
"I'm sorry. I'm usually a good boy, I never get into trouble. I just did bad. I didn't mean to do bad... I won't ever do it again." Given how bad he was, he felt it was good that he had been punished. Now he could properly reflect and repent, even if his bottom and back were sore. "They say the true way to get close to Christ is to suffer."
Or, at least, Sandalphon had said as much to him.
Looking ahead, Aziraphale squinted at the sign posts. "Are we in London?" They didn't live in London so why had they come all the way here? He pressed himself against the window suddenly. "Soho, London. It says London for sure, Bartemius!"
"Sure does." Couldn't deny that. He wished he'd been older. Then Aziraphale would be younger when he took him away. Maybe before he could read or process this at all, would make it a lot easier. But here they were, he had to deal with the hand he was dealt with. "You are a good boy. You are the sole evidence of goodness I've ever come across in this world, Aziraphale."
He shook his head, pressing his lips together. "They hurt you and they were in the wrong. Not you. They are wrong about so many things. So I'm taking us away. We are not going back."
"... And did you ask father?" He didn't understand, how could they just leave? It didn't seem right but Aziraphale didn't want to argue. He knew his siblings said that Barty was creepy and weird, maybe even locked in a hold with Satan, but he didn't think any of that. Barty read to him, Barty was always kind to him and Barty was the only one who hugged him yesterday. Barty was special. "I don't want you to get into trouble too. Please don't worry too much, Barty. This will all pass and be a memory. I cried yesterday but I will smile today and tomorrow and all days I can."
Aziraphale promised with a small smile of his own, too nervous to seem properly happy. He didn't understand and he was sleepy, everything was dark out and he didn't know where they were. "Where are we going? Are we going to a church?"
"We are going to visit someone. I have it all organised, so don't worry. You just stay with me and listen to me. I'll take care of you." The way he always did. The way he intended to keep doing.
He found a parking spot somewhere along the street Wesley lived in and then he parked the car properly, absolutely silent during that. He had to focus. Once the car was parked, he turned to look at Aziraphale, holding a hand out to him. "I love you, Aziraphale. I only love you and nothing and no one else in the world. So you know that everything I do, I do it for you. You can trust me. I want what is best for you. Do you trust me?"
"I think I trust you." He just didn't get it. Was Barty being nice or not? He didn't know. He was scared and unsettling, his routine was broken and his home was far away so he didn't know what to do. He reached out and held onto Barty's hand, gripping it tight for a moment because he felt like Barty needed it. He seemed so sad. "Come on, Barty. You look so sad - buck up! It's not so bad."
They could go home and say sorry, father would punish them and then they could resume normal. That was the plan, he assumed - but maybe Barty just needed a break. A pilgrimage to somewhere else to sort his head out. "We'll stick together and-and it will be okay. We will be okay, most importantly."
"We will be. Come on, sunshine." Barty tried a smile of his own and then got out of the car, just so he could walk around and open the door for Aziraphale. He helped him outside and then picked up the bag he'd packed. All the documents and all his documentation was in there, the stuff that was more important than anything else.
He knew he was too young to keep Aziraphale with him, to even stay by himself. He'd have to find ways around it, however he could make it work. He had a few ideas, he'd have to say which one panned out.
For now he walked up to the building and rang the door, waiting for Wesley to hopefully open it. He put a hand on Aziraphale's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Stay close to me. It will all be well."
A call will spook them and I don't want them to run.
They're from the church. My church. I told one of the boys that if he ever needed help, I would try to help him and I gave him my address. He's an older kid, he's about 14 or 15 and I did expect it.
I did not expect him to bring his little brother. He's much younger and I think he's injured.
No, I think it's not that bad. It's probably the belt, he has a limp I know all too well.
I can't inform their guardians. They will come and get them and then left for a reason. They have proof of abuse and documents, the eldest was well prepared.
I'm letting them stay with me for the night but, as you know well, I can not have kids around me and I'm panicking a little!
I can get the process started, but it's tricky. They can't stay with you, no. I'll talk to the centre, see what the best move would be. I will be by with someone tomorrow morning.
"Hi." Wesley checked, once again, through the chain on his door before he opened it up for Holden and his friend. The social worker, he assumed. Some dashing Adonis of a man, with muscles and everything, who smiled politely and looked at him with no real affection or interest but he didn't really need that, it was just nice to think about a reality with that. Wesley walked into the living room where Barty and Aziraphale were.
They knew social services was coming. Well, Barty did, Aziraphale just knew guests were coming.
Aziraphale's hand was clutched into Barty's shirt as he sat in his lap, looking down at the floor in shame that he had caused such a mess.
"I'm going to brew us up some tea but Barty, this is the man I told you about and his, erm, his friend." He looked Gunn up and down again. "Who's name I am lacking but I'm sure he's lovely."
"I'm Gunn. Charles Gunn. It's nice meeting you all." Gunn said it with a smile and Barty was simply watching him. Cleary a traumatised boy, on guard and untrusting. He was familiar with the look, but it was still a little unsettling.
"And my name's Holden. Nice to meet you two. What's your names?" Holden smiled casually and sat down opposite the boys in a chair, watching as Barty's grip on Aziraphale tightened a little.
"Hello." Barty said it politely. "My name is Barty. My brother is Aziraphale. We belong together."
"Yes, I can see that."
"Of course you do, I'd never have left my lil sis either," Gunn agreed, stepping closer. "We've just got a few questions for you."
"I'm Aziraphale and I'm eight years old." Aziraphale introduced as he sat in his brother's lap and watched the two men curiously. He had no idea what was happening, everything had been difference since he got punished. He was bad and Barty was worried, he wasn't home and everything was different. He barely slept last night, what with their daring escape and then sleeping in an unfamiliar bed. It was a lot at once.
He felt Barty hold him tighter and he looked tentatively at Holden.
"Barty is a really good brother, he's just taking care of me. We aren't doing anything bad, I swear." He didn't want anyone to misunderstand Barty, he was a lot nicer than he looked.
"Oh, I know. I don't think he's doing anything bad. Or you. You're being very impressive and good boys, actually." Holden smiled and then opened up his bag, pulling out a colouring book. He got a box of crayons next and held both out to Aziraphale. "That's for you. Do you like colouring?"
"He's very good at it." Barty knew from the pictures of bible scenes Aziraphale had coloured. "He's talented."
He was convinced of it.
"Yeah? I was never any good at colouring within the lines," Gunn confessed. "Hey, Aziraphale. Is it all right if I talk to your big brother for a bit while you colour with Holden? We'll just stand right over there."
Aziraphale considered it all and they probably wanted to have grown up talk with Barty but that didn't make him any less anxious. He looked at Holden for a moment and then Barty before he leaned up and whispered in his brother's ear. "Make sure to come back for me." He didn't want to end up lost and alone, he was terrified of the idea.
At that, he slid out of Barty's lap and took the colouring book and crayons into his hands.
He watched Barty get up and walk over to Gunn before finally, he let himself focus on Holden. "Is Holden your first name or your surname, sir?"
"That's my first name. My full name is Holden O'Shea. It's Irish." He explained, since Aziraphale seemed curious. "You don't have to call me 'sir', I'm not that formal."
Barty and Gunn were standing in the other corner of the room, but they hadn't left it. Barty's body language was defensive, but not aggressive, so Holden relaxed a little. He was sure Gunn could handle it. "Aziraphale, I have a bit of a strange question for you. Do you like apple pie?"
"I don't think I've ever had it." He had apples before and he'd had pies but they usually had meat in them. He had heard talk of an apple crumb and had once been snuck a bite of treacle by one of the older ladies but he had never had apple pie. Intriguing. "I liked baked apples a lot. It's my favourite. You just add some sugar, some cinnamon and apple juice - it bakes for ages but it's well worth it."
He set his gifts down on the floor and then sat down to look at them. "Thank you for the colouring book and the crayons. May I use them?"
"Of course, darling boy. That's what they are there for. You can start colouring right now, if you want." Holden watched Aziraphale, reading his body language and analysing as best he could. Polite, wary, but not directly scared of him. A lot more trusting than his brother, that much was obvious. "I really love baked apples as well."
He could agree with that. "But, see. Where I live, we have an apple tree. And I really want to bake some apple pies and I was wondering whether you'd help me. Because I think your brother and you might come and stay with us."
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But he couldn't wait any longer. He couldn't let them take his sunshine away. Hearing Aziraphale sob like that, he was sure something inside him had broken. "Are you hungry? I brought some snacks."
Nothing much, but something.
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"I don't want him to be mad. I don't know if we're allowed out." Especially not this late. Especially not in Gabriel's car of all things. He looked up and smiled at the cross hanging from the wing mirror.
"I'm not hungry. Are you?"
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"I'm not letting anyone hurt you, Aziraphale. Not ever again. That's all you have to know. Trust me." He stopped at the light, checking the secret phone he had to see whether he was going the right way. It seemed right. He wished he had had the time to call ahead to Wesley. Whatever. It was just the beginning of this plan.
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Or, at least, Sandalphon had said as much to him.
Looking ahead, Aziraphale squinted at the sign posts. "Are we in London?" They didn't live in London so why had they come all the way here? He pressed himself against the window suddenly. "Soho, London. It says London for sure, Bartemius!"
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He shook his head, pressing his lips together. "They hurt you and they were in the wrong. Not you. They are wrong about so many things. So I'm taking us away. We are not going back."
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Aziraphale promised with a small smile of his own, too nervous to seem properly happy. He didn't understand and he was sleepy, everything was dark out and he didn't know where they were. "Where are we going? Are we going to a church?"
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He found a parking spot somewhere along the street Wesley lived in and then he parked the car properly, absolutely silent during that. He had to focus. Once the car was parked, he turned to look at Aziraphale, holding a hand out to him. "I love you, Aziraphale. I only love you and nothing and no one else in the world. So you know that everything I do, I do it for you. You can trust me. I want what is best for you. Do you trust me?"
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They could go home and say sorry, father would punish them and then they could resume normal. That was the plan, he assumed - but maybe Barty just needed a break. A pilgrimage to somewhere else to sort his head out. "We'll stick together and-and it will be okay. We will be okay, most importantly."
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He knew he was too young to keep Aziraphale with him, to even stay by himself. He'd have to find ways around it, however he could make it work. He had a few ideas, he'd have to say which one panned out.
For now he walked up to the building and rang the door, waiting for Wesley to hopefully open it. He put a hand on Aziraphale's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Stay close to me. It will all be well."
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Would you rather call? Should I come over?
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They're from the church. My church. I told one of the boys that if he ever needed help, I would try to help him and I gave him my address. He's an older kid, he's about 14 or 15 and I did expect it.
I did not expect him to bring his little brother. He's much younger and I think he's injured.
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They are both still legally children, obviously, so their guardians will be informed if they show up anywhere. You should be informing them.
I understand the issue. Do you think the kids are in danger at home?
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I can't inform their guardians. They will come and get them and then left for a reason. They have proof of abuse and documents, the eldest was well prepared.
I'm letting them stay with me for the night but, as you know well, I can not have kids around me and I'm panicking a little!
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Wow. That well prepared, really?
I can get the process started, but it's tricky. They can't stay with you, no. I'll talk to the centre, see what the best move would be. I will be by with someone tomorrow morning.
Or do you need me to come over right now?
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They knew social services was coming. Well, Barty did, Aziraphale just knew guests were coming.
Aziraphale's hand was clutched into Barty's shirt as he sat in his lap, looking down at the floor in shame that he had caused such a mess.
"I'm going to brew us up some tea but Barty, this is the man I told you about and his, erm, his friend." He looked Gunn up and down again. "Who's name I am lacking but I'm sure he's lovely."
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"And my name's Holden. Nice to meet you two. What's your names?" Holden smiled casually and sat down opposite the boys in a chair, watching as Barty's grip on Aziraphale tightened a little.
"Hello." Barty said it politely. "My name is Barty. My brother is Aziraphale. We belong together."
"Yes, I can see that."
"Of course you do, I'd never have left my lil sis either," Gunn agreed, stepping closer. "We've just got a few questions for you."
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He felt Barty hold him tighter and he looked tentatively at Holden.
"Barty is a really good brother, he's just taking care of me. We aren't doing anything bad, I swear." He didn't want anyone to misunderstand Barty, he was a lot nicer than he looked.
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"He's very good at it." Barty knew from the pictures of bible scenes Aziraphale had coloured. "He's talented."
He was convinced of it.
"Yeah? I was never any good at colouring within the lines," Gunn confessed. "Hey, Aziraphale. Is it all right if I talk to your big brother for a bit while you colour with Holden? We'll just stand right over there."
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At that, he slid out of Barty's lap and took the colouring book and crayons into his hands.
He watched Barty get up and walk over to Gunn before finally, he let himself focus on Holden. "Is Holden your first name or your surname, sir?"
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Barty and Gunn were standing in the other corner of the room, but they hadn't left it. Barty's body language was defensive, but not aggressive, so Holden relaxed a little. He was sure Gunn could handle it. "Aziraphale, I have a bit of a strange question for you. Do you like apple pie?"
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He set his gifts down on the floor and then sat down to look at them. "Thank you for the colouring book and the crayons. May I use them?"
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He could agree with that. "But, see. Where I live, we have an apple tree. And I really want to bake some apple pies and I was wondering whether you'd help me. Because I think your brother and you might come and stay with us."
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