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Crowley couldn't remember at what point in the night he'd started crying. The pulsing pain in his spine, wings, and ribs had been too much for the poor demon to cope with.
He was in constant pain, a punishment for falling to hell. All demons experience it, every last one of them. It's just worse at times for others. Crowley was lucky, he'd been told. It was only in his torso and wings. For some demons, it's like being stabbed and having the knife constantly being pushed deeper and deeper into their bodies. Everywhere. It's a constant pulse, but the pain never stops. Not a single brief moment of rest.
Crowley had gotten used to it, he'd grown numb to the dullest of the pain. Every waking moment of his life wasn't complete torture. This time, though? He'd waken up, his torso and wings felt like they were on fire. On top of that, he'd just waken up from a nightmare about falling again. He had them often. Much less, lately, since he'd been sleeping with Aziraphale a lot lately, but for whatever reason, the demon had gone to his own home late and never made it back to his angel. He'd called him and let him know he was alright, but he was much less so now.
After he'd managed to calm his crying enough form coherent sentences, he called Aziraphale.
The angel picked up, heard nothing more than "I'm coming over" in a pathetic sounding, to the demon himself, at least, tone, before he hung up. Luckily the streets were mostly empty and Crowley had become adept at driving faster than any human with any sense would, he made it to Aziraphale's bookshop. The angel was waiting just by the door outside, quickly rushing over to his Bently.
"Are you okay?!" The angel asked, his tone panicked. Crowley just nodded and stumbled out of his car, leaning on Aziraphale, tears staining his cheeks. Aziraphale picked him up and carried him inside, because he could do that. It really wasn't even that hard for the angel to do so, or vice versa. Crowley didn't weigh very much and had superhuman strength so being carried or even carrying someone else wasn't difficult.
Aziraphale set him down on his bed, quickly asking,
"What happened? Are you hurt? Dear, please tell me what's wrong!" All Crowley could manage was,
"F-fallen... Pains..." He hated how pathetic he sounded. He hated himself, truly he did.
Aziraphale didn't need more information than that, laying down next to the demon and cuddling him close.
"It's okay, dear..." He whispered, kissing at the demon's neck softly, using a bit of his magic to ease the demon's pain. Crowley felt tears trickling down his cheeks, "Let it all out, Crowley," the angel said calmly, running his hand over the demon's jaw. He did so, crying for a good ten or fifteen minutes, before his sobs calmed down to sniffles and gasps for air. He was so tired, he just wanted it all to go away.
"I'm sorry, dear..." Aziraphale whispered, running his hands down his spine. Crowley shook his head,
"Don't be, angel, you didn't do anything wrong..." Crowley said softly, turning to face his lover. Aziraphale looked like he felt guilty, like a child who just broke something and was trying to play it off like it wasn't them. Crowley had grown to recognize that expression quite well when he was nannying for Warlock.
"I love you," the angel whispered, taking Crowley's hand in his own. Crowley couldn't help but smile, pulling Aziraphale close into a soft kiss, running his hands down the angel's back. Aziraphale kissed back, doing the same to Crowley, tapping down the demon's spine.
After they did that for a while, Crowley broke the kiss and nuzzled his face into Aziraphale's chest, quietly hiding there until he passed out.