"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."
"Where are we? It's so big." Aziraphale looked around in awe, holding his big brother's hand and following him along. The door buzzed and they went into a nice, white hallway and up one set of stairs where a door was open a jar.
"You can leave the parcel outside." A voice called out and Aziraphale held onto Barty, his eyes wide. He knew that voice. That voice used to preach at the church. Aziraphale looked up at Barty. Elder Pryce, who left, who was a sinner and an outsider.
Why would Barty bring him here? "Brother, no."
"How much is the tip-- oh." Well. That wasn't hos book delivery. Wesley peered out from the chain that kept his door ajar, looking at Bartemius and then the small boy by his side. "Hello."
"Hello, Wesley." He didn't call him Elder. Didn't seem right. He never wanted to call anyone that ever again. "Can you let us in? Please." Barty wasn't good at the begging, not overly good at the cute act or anything else that might help. However, he had his sunshine next to him and with how panicked Aziraphale was currently, he was sure he looked scared and adorable enough for the both of them. "I know what to do. Just let us in."
He had a plan. Or at least the vague beginnings of at least three plans, which was better than nothing.
Wesley considered it for a moment and then he closed the door, undid the chain and reopened it. "I wasn't expecting --" He looked at Aziraphale for a few moment. "--Visitors."
Children, other people, whatever, he didn't expect anyone today. Which was why it wasn't great inside. It was clean and it smelled strongly of bleach from the deep clean he did yesterday, that wasn't the issue, the issue was more the books and papers absolutely everywhere and the bottle of scotch lying out. It wasn't kid friendly. "Bartemius, I said you could contact me if you ever needed to leave but ... I expected you to be alone."
Aziraphale held onto his brother very tightly and half hid behind him, terrified and unsure what was happening. He stared at the older man and wondered what Barty was doing. Was he insane? This was madness!
"They hit him." Barty said it straight up, no hesitation. He crouched down so he could draw Aziraphale into his arms, so he could pull him close against himself. "They punished him because he was playing. Like a child is supposed to do. They will do it once, they will do it again. Until the light is burned out of him."
Obviously they would. They had all been there. But Aziraphale was so young and always such a good boy. It was unfathomable that it should happen to him. "I won't let anyone hurt him again. I can protect him. I have evidence and documentation of all the abuse. They can't take us back."
"I see. I'm very sorry to hear that. I will -- I will make us tea, yes. You two can sit on the couch. Just move everything onto the floor." Wesley knew two ways to deal with trauma - tea or alcohol and right now, tea was all he could offer. "I'm sorry that they have already started with punishment. He's eight, isn't he? It always starts with eight. The guilt, the sin, the problems."
Aziraphale let Barty hold him, eyeing up the couch with fear before he turned around suddenly and looked at his brother with wide, concerned eyes. "I was bad, Barty. Please, I was the bad one, we can't leave. I wanna ... I wanna go back." Not because he desperately missed anyone but from fear. He didn't want bad things to happen. "You'll be in so much trouble."
"I don't care how much trouble I'm in, sunshine. I will make sure that you are safe." All he really cared about. Still, Barty tried to be gentle, coaxing Aziraphale over to the couch and moving things aside enough to sit down. Then he pulled Aziraphale on his lap and opened up his backpack. "I have prepared, Aziraphale. I won't be in trouble. We won't be. I have it all figured out."
He pulled out the book they had been reading lately - Peter Pan - and found the page they had stopped at, quietly reading to Aziraphale while Wesley made tea.
Aziraphale spent most of his down time with Barty these days. They read together in Barty's room and while the others called Barty scary and bad, he didn't think so. Not the way he read to him or how he held him, it couldn't be that he was a bad boy. He was far too sweet. Maybe people just didn't understand Barty.
He listened to Barty as Wesley set down tea for them and then disappeared back into the kitchen to do -- well, something he was sure. He bit his lip and leaned closer to Barty. Maybe it was okay, as long as Barty stayed with him and they could be safe. Together.
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no subject
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."
no subject
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?"
no subject
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?"
no subject
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."
no subject
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."
no subject
"You can leave the parcel outside." A voice called out and Aziraphale held onto Barty, his eyes wide. He knew that voice. That voice used to preach at the church. Aziraphale looked up at Barty. Elder Pryce, who left, who was a sinner and an outsider.
Why would Barty bring him here? "Brother, no."
"How much is the tip-- oh." Well. That wasn't hos book delivery. Wesley peered out from the chain that kept his door ajar, looking at Bartemius and then the small boy by his side. "Hello."
no subject
He had a plan. Or at least the vague beginnings of at least three plans, which was better than nothing.
no subject
Children, other people, whatever, he didn't expect anyone today. Which was why it wasn't great inside. It was clean and it smelled strongly of bleach from the deep clean he did yesterday, that wasn't the issue, the issue was more the books and papers absolutely everywhere and the bottle of scotch lying out. It wasn't kid friendly. "Bartemius, I said you could contact me if you ever needed to leave but ... I expected you to be alone."
Aziraphale held onto his brother very tightly and half hid behind him, terrified and unsure what was happening. He stared at the older man and wondered what Barty was doing. Was he insane? This was madness!
no subject
Obviously they would. They had all been there. But Aziraphale was so young and always such a good boy. It was unfathomable that it should happen to him. "I won't let anyone hurt him again. I can protect him. I have evidence and documentation of all the abuse. They can't take us back."
no subject
Aziraphale let Barty hold him, eyeing up the couch with fear before he turned around suddenly and looked at his brother with wide, concerned eyes. "I was bad, Barty. Please, I was the bad one, we can't leave. I wanna ... I wanna go back." Not because he desperately missed anyone but from fear. He didn't want bad things to happen. "You'll be in so much trouble."
no subject
He pulled out the book they had been reading lately - Peter Pan - and found the page they had stopped at, quietly reading to Aziraphale while Wesley made tea.
no subject
He listened to Barty as Wesley set down tea for them and then disappeared back into the kitchen to do -- well, something he was sure. He bit his lip and leaned closer to Barty. Maybe it was okay, as long as Barty stayed with him and they could be safe. Together.