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Aziraphale stared at his hands, his wrists bound tightly to the wooden chair arms beneath them. He hadn’t been here before, but he knew his image had. Crowley sat in the same place, in the same position only a few years ago. Aziraphale wondered briefly if Crowley had as much fear in his heart at the time that Aziraphale had now in his. He looked towards Gabriel, pleading with his eyes as the archangel grimaced at the pillar of hellfire in front of him.
“Don’t give me that look,” Gabriel spat at him. “Did you really expect things to be different this time?”
“It didn’t work last time,” Aziraphale tried, his voice weaker than he would ever care to admit.
Gabriel smiled coldly. “Last time, it wasn’t you.”
Aziraphale paled, his eyes darting around Gabriel to find any hint of compassion in the room. “I-I’m quite sure I don’t know what you mean.”
“No?” Gabriel leaned forwards and put his hands on his knees as he bent to Aziraphale’s eyelevel. “Let’s start from the beginning, then. Who are you when no one’s watching?”
Aziraphale shook his head in confusion. “I don’t–”
“I’ll tell you who you are: you’re a traitor. You are constantly in the company of a demon, and what’s more, you plotted to stop the apocalypse with him. You’re a mistake of an angel. One that I am going to rectify here and now.” He pulled at the rope binding Aziraphale to the chair. “Up.” Aziraphale stood, his limbs trembling with the sight of pure extinction staring him directly in the face. The heat singed at the tip of his nose and he felt his bottom lip tremble once. “Don’t make us wait,” Gabriel said, shoving him closer to the fire.
Aziraphale stumbled forward, feeling some of the curls on his head ignite. He looked down at the silver ring on his left hand and cradled it close to his chest. He saw his reflection distort in the metal and he knew he was a coward. Crowley would have fought back against Gabriel.
Crowley did fight back. And now he was gone.
Aziraphale shed a single tear and stepped forward. He would at least die warm, unlike Crowley. The serpent died freezing with holy water on the steps outside of the bookshop. Aziraphale hadn’t been quick enough to save him. But now he could join him.
The angel’s gaze lifted to meet the flames swirling in front of him. He glanced to the side, locking eyes with Gabriel. “Lovely knowing you all,” he said, mimicking what Crowley had said before.
“Not this again…” Gabriel groaned. “May we meet on a better blah, blah, blah. Just die.”
Aziraphale took a tiny step closer to his doom. He smiled to himself for a moment, before voluntarily stepping into the pillar of flame. The warmth overtook him instantly, becoming unbearable within a matter of seconds. “Gabriel?” he ground out with the last of his strength.
“Yes?” Gabriel hissed his reply in annoyance.
Aziraphale smiled and held up his hand in a gesture he had seen Crowley and plenty of humans use to show displeasure. Gabriel turned bright red and screamed in anger. Aziraphale just tuned him out, letting his body burn away. He hoped the last thing to remain would be his offensive finger, seared forever into the mind of the archangel.