"Too late, my time has come. Sends shivers down my spine, body's aching all the time. Goodbye, everybody, I've got to go. Gotta leave you all behind and face the truth." Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen

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The desert, you learn, is much harder to become accustomed to than the torture. At least in the room, you had only one kind of pain drowning out everything else. And it was a much cooler temperature.

You've been walking for what feels like an eternity. And you wouldn't be surprised if another twenty years have passed since you were tossed in here.

Needless to say, you're incredibly lonely. It's getting difficult to remember the details of Aziraphale's smile or Crowley's voice. It's even harder to remember your parents or anyone else you'd ever known.

You trudge on, listening for the sound of cawing in the sky. It's about time for them to come again.

Focusing on the possibility of the noise, you don't notice the other sounds filling the hot, dry air.

And the cawing comes. You drop to your knees and cover your head with your hands, waiting for the unbearable pain to come, but it never does.

After a moment, the cawing ceases. You hesitantly stand and see the birds flying towards you. As soon as they start flying in circles around you, they begin cawing again. You sink to your knees again as you had before and hide your head.

They begin clawing and pecking at you, repeating what they'd done for nearly forever.

It stops and you heal, picking yourself up in the process. You look at where the birds had come from and realize that you hear a distant voice. You can't hear what they're saying, but it's a person, nonetheless.

In a burst of hope and newfound energy, you race towards where the birds had come from and where you can hear the voice.

You look down from the top of a particularly tall dune and see a slightly masculine figure calmly sitting in the sand. His clothes are ratty and dirty, he's sat there for quite a while.

So that's what the birds do--they go around and around, torturing everyone linearly.

"Hello?" You call out to the figure. The voice stops. He turns around, and he seems familiar, but you can't quite place where you know him from.

Regardless, you walk towards the man and into the dip in the sand where he sits.

Once you're within thirty feet of him, you suddenly realize who he is and how you recognize him. You run towards him until you're gasping for breath right in front of his feet.

"You're--" You cut yourself off. "You--" Not right, either.

The man smiles and laughs. "I'm..."

Of all the people you could have met in Hell, and you get to meet him. It seems your luck is pretty good sometimes.

"You're Freddie Mercury?"

He grins. "It seems the world hasn't forgotten me."

"W-well, that would be hard... A lot of people like your work... Including me?"

Your head feels faint. Now is not the time to have social anxiety.

"Thank you. Please, sit."

You do so and try not to act weirdly. Internally, you're fangirling pretty hard and you don't want it to show. Has Crowley met him? Probably.

"What's your name, darling?"

"Y-Y/N"

"Ah, Y/N, it's a pleasure to meet you. I've met only a few people in all my time here. How long has it been since my death?"

You do the math in your head.

"Uh, last time I knew what year it was, it had been about forty-five years since you died."

"Ah. How long ago was that?"

"When I first came here. I'm sorry, I don't know how long ago that was..."

"It's alright. I've lost track of time, myself. I don't mind, dear."

"Why... Why are you here? You don't seem like you deserve this..."

He smiles again, but this time, it's a bit sadder. Not particularly regretful, more understanding.

"You realize I'm gay?"

Your heart falls. "I-I did, but that hardly seems like a valid reason..."

"It is what it is. I wouldn't change anything for the world. Now, you."

"Huh?"

"Why are you here? I've met very few people, all who've moved on from chatting with me."

"Oh, I... Well, you won't believe me."

"Even if I don't, it'll certainly be a story. Humor me."

"Well, to keep it short--"

"We have time."

"R-right..." You don't say anything for a moment, trying to piece together where to begin. "So my parents died in a car accident and I moved to London to work through it. There wasn't a reason in particular."

"I'm sorry."

"I-it's not that big a deal, especially now that I know that the afterlife exists... It's fine just knowing that they're still around and happy. Anyway, I moved to London with a scholarship. It was stressful, so I went around looking for a bookstore. I found one belonging to a kind... man... named Aziraphale."

"That's an interesting name."

"Y-yeah... Anyway, he was my only friend there because I got pretty awkward at times." For a moment, you lose yourself in memory.

"He was kind and loved tea... We talked about books and he helped me with my schoolwork. Whenever you speak to him, it's like... it's like you matter."

"I see."

You're dragged back into the story. "A-anyway, in a sudden flash of misfortune--or maybe it was fortune, looking back--I lost my cheap job and apartment."

"Fortune?"

"Yeah. Aziraphale said that he had a friend that might be able to help. His name was Anthony Crowley, and he was kind enough to house me."

"Really. I suppose that is fortune."

"Y-yeah... But from an outside perspective, Crowley was the exact opposite of Aziraphale. Each of them are wonderful but in such different ways."

"May I guess what happens next?"

You aren't sure what he could be thinking. "Sure, go ahead."

"You hooked up with both of them, and because of that, you're here."

Your face heats. "No. No. Definitely not. Aziraphale's more like a dad to me."

"What about this Crowley?"

You don't respond, but your face continues heating.

In all honesty, the thought had crossed your mind in the past, but Crowley's just... out of your league. Big time. And he's immortal, and you're not. Nothing good could come out of anything happening with him.

Besides, you'd had enough antichrists for one lifetime. You didn't need to mother one yourself.

"I see. You may continue."

"R-right... But nothing happened."

"I believe you."

"You do?"

"No."

"But I swear!--"

"What else could have gotten you in so much trouble? How did Crowley help you?"

"He, uh." This is not going to help your point. "He let me stay with him in his flat..."

Freddie grins again. "You're doing an amazing job convincing me."

"Okay, well, I'm getting to that. Nothing could happen."

"Why not? He was married?"

"No. He was single. At first, I thought he and Aziraphale were together, what with Crowley always calling him "angel", but then I learned..."

He leans in ever so slightly.

"Aziraphale's an angel. Crowley's a demon. They've been friends since the beginning of time, and now they were working together to stop the antichrist from starting Armageddon."

"Did you try to stop them?"

"No, I helped. When demons came to Earth to kill Crowley for betraying Hell, I helped him kill them. I did everything I could to stop Armageddon."

"Go on. I have many questions but I'm sure they will clear once you finish your story."

"O-okay. So it turns out the antichrist didn't want Armageddon either, so we stopped the four horsemen of the apocalypse; war, famine, pollution, and death. But Beelzebub and Gabriel, the spokespeople of Hell and Heaven, were furious."

"Gabriel, too?"

"... Yeah. Heaven wanted Hell to start the war so they could win. They blamed the entire thing on Aziraphale and Crowley and wanted them dead. I said that I would take their place and, after some convincing, they agreed."

"... Then what?"

"I told Adam, the antichrist, to make everyone forget about me. And he did. So I shot myself and found myself in Hell."

"Damn."

You don't say anything for a moment, you just look at your rough hands. Once you fight through your uncomfortableness, you look back up to Freddie.

"So, uh... About Crowley..."

"The demon you mentioned? Are you going to admit your complete and udder infatuation for him?"

"N-no! I just... Well, have you ever met someone who sauntered rather than walked, had slightly grayish skin, dressed only in black, always wore sunglasses, and had bright orange-red hair?"

Freddie considers this for a moment, then smiles. "Ah, yes. At the Live Aid concert, there was this man who fit your description... He made it backstage, I can't tell you how. But we chatted for a while, and right before he left, he said something peculiar..."

"What'd he say?"

"He said something like, 'I'm glad I got to meet you before it happened, but I'm very sorry. It was a pleasure speaking to you.' It was only a few months before I was diagnosed with aids..."

"Oh... I'm sorry. But that was Crowley." You can't help but smile. "He's a huge Queen fan, and I'm not surprised he took an opportunity to talk to you at such an important event for Queen."

Freddie's eyes widen. "That was him?"

"I assume so. It sounds like him and I'm not sure who else could have known about that."

"I spoke to a demon?"

"Yep."

"Incredible..."

You smile and look down. "Yep."

From the corner of your eye, you see Freddie's slightly gaping expression turn to one of thoughtfulness.

"Well, I can see why you like him so much."

You look up and see that he's now smirking.

"He was certainly quite the charmer," he continues.

"I mean, you aren't wrong."

"Of course not, darling. Anywho, what did you say about everyone forgetting you? I'm sure your knight in shining armor would have saved you by now if you hadn't done that."

"While that might be true... They were really upset. They thought they had failed, but they didn't. It was my decision. I could have been safe if I decided to be, but I... I was the one who put myself into that kind of danger. I wanted them to feel better about it and not obsess over me."

"I see."

"And, uh, if I disappear, literally out of thin air or something, I'll be back pretty soon... I hope."

"If you do, what would that mean?"

"That's part of my punishment. Basically, any demon who's particularly pissed off by the cancellation of Armageddon comes to me and... well, tortures me for fun. I got sent here because things were particularly slow."

His face contorts in disgust. "I'm sorry. You deserve this fate less than the damned pope."

You chuckle and smile. "Thanks."

You and Freddie Mercury--the main man of Queen, no less--continue speaking about his personal life as you've already spoken about pretty much everything interesting that's ever happened to you.

Before the birds come again, a harpy stops by. Freddie, the more experienced resident, notices it first.

"Ah, Y/N..."

"Yeah?"

He points to the horizon, and rather than a few dots of black as was expected, there's a large dark brown one that looks... Almost human.

You turn your attention away from it and back to Freddie.

"I think that's a harpy," you say. "And I think... I think it's coming to take me back to the headquarters of Hell to, well, receive more punishment."

"Ah. I wish you luck."

"Thank you..."

After a moment, it's here. It must have been flying quickly...

You gaze up and the magnificent beast swoops down.

In a flash, it picks you up in its claws. The pain of its sharp claws digging into your flesh is strong, but not unbearable. You suppose you need to ease yourself into incredible amounts of pain, so this might not be the worst thing. It'll be less of a shock when whatever happens... happens.

You raise your hand to Freddie and smile ever so slightly, and he waves back.

The harpy continues flying, and you sit back and enjoy the ride as best you can under the circumstances.