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In London, there was a bookshop that became a place of respite for a particular kind of person. Since its opening, there was a steady trickle of people being found in their time of need. Those who Mr. Fell looked after were protected very well and it was rare that harm came to them. And when harm did come to them, reparations and justice were both swift. Rumors, legends, and stories were circulated within Soho of Mr. Fell, someone who kept watchful eyes(1) on the community he called his own.
(1) More than two, actually.
The young man who was heading towards the bookshop(2) was not aware of any of these stories. He didn’t live in Soho. He didn’t even live in England at all. He was a visitor, a tourist. Still, all those who passed through Soho that belonged underneath the rainbow banner also belonged(3) under Aziraphale’s wings.
(2) He didn’t know that would be his final destination, of course. But he had been honing in on it without realizing.
(3) By jurisdiction.
The stormy night on which our story takes place was not a special one in any sense of the word. It was a rather rainy July evening, but that is not a rare occurrence in England. Or at least, not as rare as it would have been in the young man’s native home of California.
The boy- He was not a child, but he was still very young. He was in the inbetween, past teenagerhood, but not quite settled in either the body or mind of a true adult. He was an excellent pretender, could moan about gas prices and taxes with the best of them, could drink with his friends and do all sorts of things. But he hadn’t quite mastered his impulses, and wasn't quite able to think with a clear head.
So it wasn’t abnormal for someone of such an age and such a disposition to be furiously stomping through the rain, crying his eyes out. He was so native to California that he didn’t even own an umbrella, or at least hadn’t thought to bring one with him when he left his temporary residence in a rush. His clothes were soaked, and right now, he didn’t have anywhere to go.
He dug deep inside himself, for something he could use to at least stop himself from crying. But in his desperation he turned to prayer instead, despite the fact that it had been a very long time since he’d last reached out to anyone who could be listening.(4)
(4) Someone was always listening, of course. Response times varied, and so did the requests that were granted, but someone was always there.
Maybe he got lucky. Maybe it was something else.
A voice called out.
“I say, my boy- are you quite alright?”
The young man- whose name was Jay, whipped his head towards the person who had spoken.
Jay blinked, not entirely sure what he was seeing. He knew what he was seeing, but he couldn’t quite believe it.
There was a person standing outside one of the shops. This wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, but-
The windows were warmly lit with yellow light, making the place look absolutely cozy. And with the man standing between the two open doors-
It must have been a trick of the light, Jay was sure. But the brightness from the bookshop was hitting the stranger’s shoulders, and he almost seemed to glow a little.
Jay looked up and down the street both ways before returning his gaze to the man, taking a tentative step towards him.
Originally he was going to lie, and say that he was absolutely fine. But an angel- even one in disguise- is very hard to lie to.
The truth slipped out instead. “No, sir. I’m not doing well at all.” he replied.
The person… seemed like the sort who would like to be addressed formally. He looked like he was dressed in the wrong century entirely. Was he one of those historical reenactors?
“Well?” the angel asked, slightly impatiently.(5) “Are you going to come in?”
(5) One could argue that this wasn’t Jay’s fault. The angel had been very much looking forward to closing the shop early and puttering about while listening to classical music. It was one of Aziraphale’s favorite pastimes.
“...May I?”
The question softened the angel’s expression somewhat. The doors opened a little further, and with a grand gesture that really didn’t belong in the modern world, the angel beckoned Jay inside.
Despite the bleakness of his current situation, Jay still had to take that second, more important step forward. He cast a glance to the sky, knew with certainty that it would be some time before it cleared up, knew he had nowhere else to go right now, took a deep breath, and crossed over the threshold into the bookshop.
The door shut softly behind him, and Jay’s heart immediately started to lift.
He took in the stacks of books, the creak of the floorboards, the musty smell of old literature. His eyes devoured the bookshelves, the mighty pillars that supported the weight of the building, the antique furniture-
“Woah, this place is awesome!”
The owner of the bookshop positively beamed , and Jay found himself relaxing even further. Clearly, he’d done something right.
“Now then, my dear… let’s get you settled.” The angel led him further into the bookshop, which was a deliciously toasty temperature compared with the outside world. Jay shivered pleasantly, and took a seat on one of the couches.
There was some odd feeling, just at the edge of his senses. It was warm, and comforting, and… something. The problem was, the more he tried to put his finger on it, the more it seemed to slip away from him. Not the sensation, but the word for it.(6)
(6) This was a common experience for most people who were actually welcome in Aziraphale’s bookshop. Crowley at first pretended to not notice it, and then for years after, pretended to not like it. Aziraphale saw through him almost immediately.
Jay took a closer look, trying to work out the details he hadn’t noticed on his first glance around. The majority of the books looked very old, though they also looked like they had lovingly been taken care of. The building seemed to be a lot bigger than it should have been from outside, but somehow in the moment, it didn’t seem to matter.
Still, Jay was curious, and couldn’t help but ask, “...Is this place enchanted?”
“Some have called it that.”(7)
(7) Angels, strictly speaking, were not capable of lying*, but stretching, misdirecting, and avoiding were all perfectly acceptable.
*Except of course, for the greater good, Aziraphale would remind anyone who would listen. No one did.
Jay nodded as if expecting this. He was still hesitating, muscles straining with unshed tension. “Um- may I know your name?”
“Mr. Fell. You may call me Zira, if you’d prefer.”
Jay felt slightly more at ease. He tilted his head to the side, and tried the name out, finding that it was pleasant to say.
“Zira Fell… I like it.” He turned to the man, still feeling somewhat stressed. “I’m sorry, I don’t quite know what’s wrong with me tonight. I feel- Happy? But also kinda… on edge. I’m not sure-”
He shook his head, still trying to work out what the sensation was that he was feeling. It was almost as if it was baked into the bricks of the shop and was radiating outwards.(8)
(8) This wasn’t far from the truth, actually. After construction of the bookshop, but before it opened, Aziraphale had spent several weeks layering and re-layering several protections and blessings over the place. He did this for the sake of the books first, but as community members started flocking there in their time of need, he put in several additional sessions of work over the years to help care for those he loved. Most humans could detect something about the place, even if they didn’t have a name for it.
There was something warm in Mr. Fell’s gaze. His eyes were a lovely cerulean blue. He stood there regarding Jay kindly.
“Why don’t you relax for a while, at least until your clothes are dry? I could make you a cup of tea, and- oh, I have the supplies to make an absolutely scrumptious charcuterie board, if you’d like.”
Oh hell, Jay wasn’t capable of resisting a temptation like that. “...If it’s not too much trouble, then- yes please.”
He wasn’t normally this polite, but then until tonight, he’d never been at the mercy of a stranger for shelter. Better to err on the side of caution, for the time being. So, Mr. Fell went to the back of the shop and made various clattering noises, and Jay sank further into the couch. He was still uneasy.
God, it was going to drive him nuts unless he found an answer to what he was feeling from the shop. He rubbed at his temples, tapped gently at where his third eye was supposed to be,(9) and closed his eyes to concentrate.
(9)Though if you’d asked, he would have absolutely denied what he was doing.
He focused on his own body first, recognizing that his heart rate was starting to slow down, and his breathing was fully under his own control again. He extended his senses outwards, and-
His clothes were dry. Eyes blinking open, he began patting his hoodie and shirt down to verify that they weren’t even damp. He glanced back over his shoulder, towards the entrance of the shop.
Sure enough, the first few footsteps he had taken inside were still glistening on the floor. He had been thoroughly soaked when he’d crossed over the threshold, but by the fifth, the footprint was almost indiscernible from the rest of the floor. The only conclusion he could make was that he’d managed to become completely dry- without even noticing - before he’d come near the first few books scattered at the tables.
…An enchanted bookshop must have a magical owner, right? Jay thought about leaving. Then again, the rain continued to pelt down outside, and despite the fear, no harm had occurred. Despite the strangeness, he liked it here. And whatever this person- being - Jay corrected himself- was capable of… it still felt like a friendlier environment than the one he’d left. And there was still that curious sensation that he wasn’t done exploring yet. He sighed, rolled his shoulders back, and sat back down on the couch, determinedly trying to sit still and not panic.
He closed his eyes once more, tapped on his third eye again,(10) and began to meditate. He extended his senses out, outward, as far out as he could go, trying to map out the feeling that was emanating from the floorboards of the bookshop. It was like… It was like listening to your favorite person tell a story. The reverberation of a familiar voice, mixed with the newness of not quite knowing what was going to be said next. It was warmth, camaraderie, focused interest, all wrapped up in something that made the hairs on Jay’s arms stand up pleasantly.
(10) It was a concentration technique, nothing more, he’d insist.
Distantly, the kettle whistled, and Jay was trying to ignore it so he could keep trying to identify what it was that he was feeling so strongly. He was close to an answer now, he could feel it approaching from straight on-
Aziraphale cleared his throat, sounding concerned. “Is everything okay, my good fellow?”
Once more, Jay’s eyes blinked open, and he froze in place. Mr. Fell was standing there, holding a tea tray laden with cups and saucers in one hand, and a wooden board filled with meats, cheeses, and fruits in the other.
His third eye wasn’t properly closed, and he was still somewhat drifting back into his body, and-
Aziraphale shone with love. Or- was he made of love? Or wrapped in it like it was armor?
Mr. Fell looked sternly at something slightly above Jay, and said, “That’s quite enough of that, thank you.”
And suddenly, everything snapped back into place. It was as if Jay’s spirit had been politely but firmly tucked back into his body. He clutched at the arms of the chair until his knuckles went white.
“S-sorry.”
“That’s alright.”
But it was as if Jay was stuck in some sort of infernal loop. He began to shake, and fell into a familiar mantra that hadn’t helped in the past.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry-”
Mr. Fell, realizing what was happening, gently placed the two full trays down on the table and knelt in front of Jay.
“Shh, shh, it’s okay, you’re safe.”
Jay knew without a doubt he was the safest he had ever been. He was absolutely certain that this room was filled with love. His eyes filled with tears. The warmth and kindness he had been feeling had sunk into his bones, and he started to cry.
“I-I know!” he sobbed. The statement rang with truth. There was no deceit, deceit could not exist in the same room as an angel under these circumstances. Jay knew that there was nowhere better to be, knew with an ironclad certainty that if something bad came to Mr. Fell’s bookshop, Mr. Fell would protect him without even hesitating. The overwhelming need to explain tore through him, and he found himself babbling.
“I don’t understand- I feel so- I’ve never felt this before. I thought- I’ve spent so much of my life feeling unsafe, and-” He cried harder, completely unable to stop himself.
Tenderness thrummed through the bookshop like a tangible force, and Jay cried like someone much younger than he actually was. Aziraphale pressed a handkerchief into Jay’s palm.
“Oh my goodness. Oh, my dear boy, I’m so sorry. I’m- I’m sorry I couldn’t help you sooner.”
Jay laughed weakly, tears streaming down his cheeks, and stared at the other man like he was crazy. “How could you? We’re from different continents .”
“True, but you’re one of ours.”
“I- huh?”
Aziraphale gave Jay a knowing look.
“I am certain I know a kindred spirit when I see them.”
As if the embarrassment of crying openly in front of a stranger wasn’t enough, this same stranger had correctly identified Jay as-
Well. Maybe he could bullshit his way through this. His red face could easily be passed off as a result of crying, right?
“I- I’m not-” The lie hung thick in the air, and the angel looked amused.
“That is to say-” Jay fumbled. “Clearly, you’re mistaken-” No, that was even worse. It was one thing to lie, it was another to accuse someone else of projecting.
Jay was stubborn. He tried again. “Look, you don’t know me, I don’t know you, and-” He couldn’t finish the sentence. All the while, Mr. Fell’s compassion became tinged with sadness.
“I understand, my dear. Your secret is safe, I swear it.”
Jay mumbled something, and then groaned aloud. “Alright, what gave it away? Was it the tie-dye hoodie? Was it my walk cycle? Was it the fact that the most dramatic thing someone in our community can do is to cry in the rain?”
This got a laugh out of Zira, and Jay found his lips twitching after a few moments.
“I’m afraid I’ve been around quite a lot longer than you have, and I can assure you, that is not the most dramatic thing one of us can do.”(11) The angel said as sat back in his chair.
(11) Aziraphale thought of bandstands and apologies and pausing time and flaming swords, and that was just for starters.
“Alright, that’s fair. But really, what gave it away?” Jay wiped the last of his tears away, though it still felt like he had more to shed. He probably would later. He was still clutching on to Mr. Fell’s handkerchief for dear life.
“I… Have always been an excellent judge of character. Well, not always. There was this one time in the 40s-”
Jay was sure he’d misheard. Surely he meant, ‘in my forties.’ There was an odd pause.
“...It’s not for you to know how I recognized you. It’s ineffable.”
“My orientation is ineffable ? That’s- look, I won’t question you if it’s bothersome. You’ve done a lot for me by inviting me into your shop and letting me cry- it’s just-” Jay gestured with his hands uncertainly.
“It’s a little uncomfortable to know I still don’t pass well enough-”
“-Oh no, I never said that. You pass just fine. I- have a talent for recognizing people’s true nature.”
“...Are you an occultist?”
That was the wrong thing to say. The angel winced, sighed, and shook his head.
Jay felt the need to push back against this stranger who knew things he shouldn’t.
“...Would explain how my clothes got dry so quickly…”
He was rewarded when Aziraphale’s face went slightly pink. Then there was a lurch of guilt.
“I’m sorry- this isn't who I usually am, I promise. I swear, I’m usually a lot softer around the edges. It’s been a bad night-”
“-Tell me what happened.”
Jay swallowed. “I’m… I’m trans.”
Mr. Fell nodded.
No shock. No surprise. No disgust, which to Jay was the most important thing.
“Sorry.” He said again.
“My dear boy, you aren’t… actually apologizing to me for being who you are, are you?”
The question gave Jay pause.(12)
(12) Being who he was usually came with an unhealthy amount of guilt, and feeling the constant need to apologize, most days.
Emotional exhaustion was eating away at him. “...Well, if you aren’t about to kick me out of here over it…”
For the first time, Aziraphale looked genuinely offended. “Certainly not! Why would I cast out someone like you?”
Jay wanted to cry again. He refrained, but it was a close thing.
“Well…” He scrubbed at his eyes roughly with Mr. Fell’s handkerchief. The angel winced, but did nothing to stop him.
“...Why would you protect me? I haven’t done anything to earn it.”
“You are you. That is more than enough a reason for me to lend a hand.”
Jay choked on a sob and closed his eyes. “S-Sorry, I- I-”
Aziraphale relaxed into his chair. “Take as much time as you need.”
It took a few minutes before Jay regained control.
“...I don’t think I’ve cried this much in years.”
“It did rather seem like you needed it.”
The angel and the human looked at each other for several moments.
The human cocked his head to the side, partially amused, mostly embarrassed. “Do you entertain crying people a lot, or…?”
“Really now, there’s no need for strong defenses here.”
Jay gave up, and decided to continue his story just to get it over with. “Alright, alright. So- I’m trans. My parents don't like it. They’re right wing Christians, and-” He looked up at Mr. Fell, to see if that statement would bother him.
Mr. Fell was listening attentively, and didn’t look mad.
“While I’ve been staying with my relatives, I’ve had to pretend I’m a girl. I’ve had to shave my face, and wear baggy clothing, and pitch my voice back up. I’ve been pretending I have a cough to cover my bases when I slip. They use my deadname, and misgender me. It’s been- pretty awful, to be honest.”
Mr. Fell said nothing, he just grabbed the cups and charcuterie board, and began setting them up.
“Pretty sure the tea will be lukewarm by now, bud.” Jay said.
Surprisingly, the tea was still steaming when poured.(13)
(13) No one was more surprised than the tea.
“Amazingly resilient, these antique kettles!”
“...Alright, fine.” Jay did not have the energy to care about the liquid that should definitely have been on its way to being cold by now.
He continued his story. “Well, one of my nephews- great kid most of the time, but he’s always been a little too curious for his own good. He’s five, I can’t blame him exactly. Anyway, uh- I wasn’t around, and the scamp thought it would be a great adventure to rummage through my suitcase to see what he could dig up.”
There was a very big lump in Jay’s throat. It was difficult to speak around, but he managed. “He found my needles, brought them to my uncle to ask what they were, and my family drew the wrong conclusion. Their first assumption wasn’t testosterone, but drugs.”
Aziraphale was horrified. “They- what?”
Jay rubbed his forehead, clearly exhausted, but wanting to see this story through. “Well, the idea of me using drugs made sense given how suspicious I've been acting. Slinking around, more anxious and withdrawn, much more paranoid too. I haven’t slept or eaten well since I arrived two weeks ago, and it’s definitely starting to show.” He gave his best attempt at a smile, and failed miserably. Aziraphale pushed the wooden board towards him, and Jay selected some brie that had been given time to soften.
He nibbled on the cheese thoughtfully, and then quickly became invested in actually eating it. It was extremely good. Jay reigned in his appetite as best he could. He sipped at the tea, and realizing how thirsty he was, drained most of the cup in one go.
“Sorry.” He said again, for what felt like the hundredth time. “I’m- really hungry. And really thirsty. I dunno how well you’d tolerate me wolfing it all down, and-”
Mr. Fell stood up. “I’ll fetch some more food. Do what you need to.”(14)
(14) He understood very well the shame that could come from eating in front of the wrong people.
Thank heaven for small mercies. As soon as Mr. Fell was out of sight, Jay feasted with an enthusiasm that could almost rival Aziraphale’s when he got peckish. He was extremely grateful when Aziraphale, coming back a few minutes later with another board of food, did not comment on the fact that the first board was more than three fourths the way empty.
Aziraphale and Jay ate and drank together like there was nothing out of the ordinary about the night’s events.
Eventually, when the eating and drinking was at a lull, Aziraphale asked, “Tell me, my dear, what happened next?”
Jay grimaced, and was surprised for a moment when his stomach curled in response to the question, and then immediately uncurled. Mr. Fell drank his tea, and made no indication at all that he had done anything.(15)
(15) Aziraphale hadn’t done anything consciously. Humans, when they hang around angels, often find themselves in better health because angels expect them to be in better health as a result of being around holiness.
“I… I had the choice to either tell them I was trans, or pretend that I did drugs. …I ran.” He kept his eyes firmly locked on the floor, wishing he could disappear.
He did have some sense of how Jay was feeling. The boy practically broadcasted it. “Courage, dear heart.” Aziraphale murmured.
Jay lifted his eyebrows, and gave Mr. Fell the first genuine smile of the night. “That’s…”
Mr. Fell raised his eyebrows, Jay’s hands fumbled, and suddenly he was showing off a tattoo on his wrist, with the exact words Aziraphale had spoken.
“Oh my!” said the angel with a soft gasp.
It was as if Aziraphale had unlocked the key to something. Jay started to ramble.
“That’s- That’s something Aslan says to Lucy. Or, well- not directly. There’s been some debate about it. I think it was Aslan. From Chronicles of Narnia? Oh- uh, you’re a bookseller, I suppose you knew… where it was from.” His sentence trailed off into nothingness.
“By all means, do go on.”
At the sparkle in Aziraphale’s eyes, Jay couldn’t resist talking about it, even though his sentences were broken now. “It’s- I got this after I realized, even though I wasn’t supposed to- Well, it wasn’t disapproved of by my parents- but- after-”
Jay looked at him shyly, suddenly seeming much younger. “It’s hard, being both.”
“Oh?” Aziraphale prompted. He didn’t know exactly where this was going, but he had a very good idea.
“I’m queer, and- and-” The silence stretched. “...And I believe in God. And many Christians don’t want anything to do with me, because they think it’s wrong, but- I want to believe in someone powerful, who is kind, and- it’s such a hard balance. It’s just- Whenever someone asks me about spirituality, I give them a different answer. I don’t tell my Christian friends that I’m trans, and I don’t tell my queer friends that I’m a Christian. On top of that, I’ve been doing other spiritual practices as well, because most Christians I know don’t use their third eye, I think- and I can’t tell what’s right or wrong- It’s so-”
“...Complicated?” Aziraphale suggested with a soft voice.(16)
(16) Many of the things Jay was saying resonated with Aziraphale in a borderline painful way.
“...Difficult. I dunno, I don’t want to lose anyone, but- it’s hard having one foot in each camp. But- I don’t want to deny either part of myself and- I’ll have to choose a side eventually-” Jay cringed at himself, then tried to disguise it by laughing.
“I’m a mess, you can tell.”
“You’re young .”(17)
(17) To someone of Aziraphale’s age, anyone under the age of a hundred was practically a child. It’s not the exclusive reason he had so much grace and mercy towards humanity, but it definitely helped.
“...I’m twenty two.” The flimsy defense hung in the air for several seconds, and then Jay snickered. “Alright, fair enough. Don’t look at me like that.”
Aziraphale pretended to not know what his face was doing. “Like what?”
“...Like a queer guardian whose ward has just said something cute, but silly.”
“Even though that is exactly what just happened?”
Jay laughed again, then seemed thoughtful. He helped himself to some more meats and cheeses, and sampled a grape or two. Eventually, he spoke again.
“Is it weird that I kinda wish that was the case?”
“Hmm?”
“That…” He gestured vaguely, but couldn’t verbalize it. Aziraphale understood.(18)
(18) Just as Aziraphale was drawn to the rainbow community, people from the community were often drawn to him in return. Like two points of light in the darkness finding each other.
Jay cleared his throat. “Well, I think I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one evening. I need a plan. I dunno if I can return home-”
“If you’ll allow me, I could phone your relatives on your behalf, and explain the situation to them.”
Jay stared at Aziraphale for several seconds, realized he wanted nothing more, and then asked in a small voice, “Are you sure?”
“Of course, my dear.”
He rattled off the number for his uncle’s house, and Aziraphale bustled off to do some magic.
Five minutes passed. Ten. At the fifteen minute mark, Jay’s hands began to shake. To ground himself, he closed his eyes and focused on the love that was inside the bookshop. He was surprised to feel a shift in the energy. Words were extremely limited, especially for something as ineffable as this, but-
…It was as if there was a little fraction of love here that was just for him. It didn’t exist on his first scan, he was sure. He basked in it while waiting for Aziraphale to come back, and his nerves settled. Tears seeped under his eyelids, but he didn’t pay them any mind.
Aziraphale eventually returned, hands clasped in front of him like a genteel officer. “Your uncle should be here to pick you up in a couple of minutes.”
“You got through to them?”
“Naturally.”
“...Gonna tell me how?”
“Hmm. Better not.”
“Fair enough.” Jay had already let go of a lot of things, one more wouldn’t hurt.
Aziraphale cleared the tea set away and gave Jay a small box with some leftover cheese and fruit.
He knew that his uncle would show up soon, and stared at Aziraphale as they waited by the door for a telltale pair of headlights.
“...Do you know a lot about love?” Jay asked.
Mr. Fell hummed. “I know many things, yes.”
“The strange thing is, I don’t know you at all. In fact, you know a heck of a lot more about me than I know about you. And yet-”
Jay’s expression turned thoughtful.
“I love you. Not romantically, and not platonically either. I don’t know you well enough for either of those things. And yet- I just do. Like it’s automatic.”
“Ah. It is true that there is a lot of… ambient positive emotion that can pass between those who recognize each other. It’s not uncommon for there to be a rush of affection towards someone who wears a pride shirt, for example. Or when someone is delighted to see a queer performer in an unexpected place.”
Aziraphale regarded Jay seriously. “That, my dear, is more divine than any doctrine or sermon.”
There was something firm behind his words, something undebatable. Jay nodded. He wanted to tell Aziraphale that he loved him again, but decided against it. He knew, somehow, that Mr. Fell could feel it. There wasn’t a need to apologize for how he felt either. Aziraphale wasn’t about to apologize for the agape love he showed others, and so a moment of contented silence passed between them.
The silence was broken, as all silences eventually are. “...May I know what you are?”
Aziraphale regarded the question for a moment, then glanced out the window. “Your uncle is here.”
Jay smirked. “Cheater. He wasn’t due for at least another three minutes.” Aziraphale looked sheepish.
“I understand.” Jay said quickly, curved smile fading into something softer. “I… I know how difficult it is to say- you don’t owe me anything. If anything, I owe-”
Mr. Fell raised his hand. “If you want to repay me, then listen. There will come a day when you are older. Much older.(19) One day, there will be someone who is younger than you, who is part of our shared community. You will have the opportunity to help them. Do so.”
(19) Aziraphale knew this because his words held weight. Jay would make it to adulthood, at the minimum. He’d make sure of it, because at this point, Jay was Aziraphale’s the same way every other queer person in Soho was, distance be damned.
“I don’t understand.”
“I do not need anything. I have all that I need, and more. There is nothing you could do to repay me that I don’t already have. Therefore, the best thing you can do for me is to pass the kindness on to someone who will need it.”
Jay recognized what Aziraphale was asking. His uncle honked the horn, and he sighed.
“I will.” The statement rang in the air. More than a promise, less than a vow.
There was so much he still wanted to express to Aziraphale that he didn’t have the words for. His gratitude, his admiration, other emotions that felt too deep and complex to have a name. So instead, he did the best he could. He looked at Aziraphale for one last time, and formed his hand into the ASL sign for ‘I love you’. Aziraphale beamed again, placed his hand on Jay’s back, gently pushed him out the door, and said,
“Mind how you go.”
The angel’s voice was warm, and as Jay crossed over the threshold into the rest of the world, the warmth the angel had shown him didn’t fade.
----
The rest of Jay’s stay with his relatives passed without incident. No one spoke of the events that had occurred that night, but that was okay. The needles for his testosterone shots were back in his suitcase. Jay knew that the rest of his family knew, and while they weren’t over the moon about it… Whatever occurred during that phone call kept them in check. He was gendered correctly, his new name was used, and that was good enough. His anxiety disappeared, he was much more social and happy for the rest of his time in England.
The night before Jay was due to go back to America, his aunt passed him a letter. They were both equally confused.
“Did you tell any of your friends this address?”
“No, I didn’t. I figured the stay here would be too short to bother.”
Still, he accepted the letter. There was a small lump in one corner of the envelope. The sender address was hand written in a curly, loopy font, and Jay smiled when he recognized it. He flipped the letter to open it and snorted at seeing an embossed wax seal with the letters ‘AZ’ stamped firmly onto the paper.(20)
(20) Aziraphale did not write letters that often. But when he did, he did it with style.
He gently peeled the letter open, not entirely sure what to expect. Inside, there was a slip of paper, and-
Two enamel pins. A matching set of angel wings, a beautiful shining white. At the tips of the feathers, there was rainbow coloring. Jay rested the pins in the palm of his hand and extended his senses out.
They were blessed. Something protective radiated from them, similar to the feeling from inside the bookshop. Much more subtle, but still very present.
Jay quickly scanned the paper that had come in the envelope. In the same extravagant looping font, Aziraphale’s words shone out at him.
My dear boy,
You will be faced with many choices in life. It will always be your decision which path to walk, and no one will be able to take that from you. Not me, not your parents, not ever Her. Keep these pins close, and it may be a little easier to find your way. I understand the conflict one can have between their faith and who they are. But…
I know from experience that It is entirely possible to take the middle road.
Stay strong, and have courage, dear heart.
A. Z. FELL
Jay attached the pins to his clothing with shaking hands. His smile was watery, but it was a smile nonetheless.
He felt brave. And he felt proud.