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Aziraphale hums contently as he enjoys his last bite of cherry strudel.
“Absolutely delicious.” He says as he puts his fork down and looks across the table.
He expects to see Crowley smiling back at him, like he often does, pleased that his Angel is happy.
Today however he looks up and finds Crowley with his elbow on the table, his chin in his hand and his whole body starting to lean precariously out of his seat.
Crowley is asleep.
Aziraphale frowns.
The demon has a habit of falling asleep around the bookshop in some odd places but he doesn't usually fall asleep when they are out and about.
It's peculiar.
Aziraphale reaches across the table, his intent is to nudge Crowley and gently rouse him so they can go home and he can take a proper nap. Aziraphale does nudge him but there is nothing gentle about the way he rouses.
Cutlery clatters, glasses wobble, other diners turn in their direction wondering what the commotion is.
Aziraphale pulls his hand back as Crowley jumps, flinching, and wrenches his head around one direction then the other. His hands tense on the table.
His focus settles on Aziraphale, his dark glasses hiding any information Aziraphale might have gleaned from his eyes. But his whole body is screaming befuddlement and trepidation.
“Crowley, my dear! Are you alright?” Aziraphale's hand is pressed to his own lapel, his corporation's heart skips uncomfortably with shock.
“What?” Crowley raises both eyebrows questioning, completely confused.
If his next question was 'Where?' Aziraphale was ready to miracle them back to the bookshop, onlookers be damned, because something seems to be quite wrong.
As it turns out Crowley gets his bearings and just looks exhausted as he surveys the dining room.
The other diners have looked away now, disinterested or too polite to stare.
“Ssssorry Angel, didn't mean to ssstartle you, must of dosed off.” His hiss, a give away of his weariness.
“Crowley, you, you woke up like...” A shellshocked soldier from the Great War, the ones who would jumped at every loud noise that reminded them of being bombarded in the trenches. “like you had a fright.”
“Didn't mean to do that.” Exhaustion strains his voice.
“Is something, bothering you?”
Crowley huffs and sits back arm draped over the back of his chair. He turns his head to look out the far window.
He's too tense for it to be anything but a cheap imitation of his usual slouch.
Aziraphale narrows his eyes at the display gets the distinct impression his question is being avoided. “I'll just pay the bill than, shall I, and we can get back.”
Crowley hums in acknowledgement but doesn't make any further comment or gesture.
Aziraphale watches him closely even as he counts money out to exact change to pay the server.
The walk back to the bookshop is much slower and much more quiet than the walk to the cafe had been. Aziraphale is left wondering what had changed or perhaps what he had missed.
Since the Armageddon that didn't and their escapes from Heaven and Hell and execution Crowley had stuck close to his side.
He'd spent lots of time at the bookshop, keeping Aziraphale company, entertaining himself with scaring potential customer away and had even taken to using the upstairs bedroom like a proper guest.
Sure he was twitchy at times but Crowley has always had his moods.
Now, Aziraphale's rambunctious houseguest seems to be sore and tired and out of sorts.
Aziraphale unlocks the door to the shop and opens it for Crowley. “After you.” He holds his arm out ushering Crowley in, he expects Crowley to glide in, gracefully slinking across the threshold like he has for a couple hundred years now.
Aziraphale's expectations are foiled for the second time in the last hour.
Crowley moves to step through the door, it is not graceful, he does not glide.
He trips on the step and hits his shoulder on the double door, all but falling into the shop.
Aziraphale follows him in and locks the door behind him, now very much convinced something is amiss.
“Crowley, what's the matter, and don't say 'nothing.'”
“...I don't know what you're talking about.” He throws the words over his shoulder as he heads to the back of the shop where he flops down on the couch and pulls his glasses off so he can run his hands over his face.
Aziraphale follows him and stands in front of him looking for answers. “I said don't...”
“You ssaid 'don't say 'nothing,' which I did not do.”
“Don't get technical with me you wily serpent, you know what I meant.”
“Uuuhhh, Aziraphale...” Crowley moans dramatically. “Aren't you going to open the sshop or something?”
“That can wait, why are you so out of sorts? Are you... sick?”
“I don't think we can get sick.”
“We'll you're acting like humans do in stories where one character is trying to hide the fact that they are sick from another character... they always fall asleep at odd times in odd places and then do something clumsy or accidentally hurt themselves... and then the other character realizes that something is wrong and the character who's been pretending to be fine is actually burning up with a fever or hiding a wound. I've read it a hundred times... you're not wounded are you? You'd tell me, wouldn't you?”
Crowley rubs at his shoulder, as he tries to follow. “I'm too tired for this.”
“Why are you tired? have you not been sleeping well?” Aziraphale can't help himself but try to figure out what's going on. “Is the bed here not to your liking? We could get something new, pillows, a new comforter. Would that help?”
“No, no... Angel that's... not... I just...” Crowley sighs and sags against the back of the couch.
Aziraphale can see that Crowley is fading, sleep is in his eyes. The angel decides he's not going to push for more answers at the moment. “Why don't you sleep here, Dear... you've always like the couch for a nap.”
“I don't want to sssleep now.” Crowley tries to stifle a yawn.
“Nonsense, my boy. It looks like sleep's going to take you whether you want it too or not.” Aziraphale collects his cozy blanket from the nearby chair and waits.
Crowley seems to be fighting to stay awake, even contemplating getting up.
Which is concerning to Aziraphale in a different kind of way, considering he knows Crowley loves to sleep.
Aziraphale waits with his blanket, lips pursed, eyes knowing.
Crowley yawns a yawn that can't be stifled and Azirapahle takes that as his cue. “Come on now, no sense in fighting it.” He prompts Crowley to gets his legs up and stretched out on the couch while he puts his glasses off to the side.
Amazingly he doesn't fight Aziraphale, who then throws the blanket over him. He's nestling down and Aziraphale thinks he's won this odd little battle when Crowley's hand comes out from under the blanket and wraps around Aziraphale's wrist.
“Sstay” His one open gold eye implores the angel.
“Alright my dear. Try to get some rest. You'll feel better.”
Zira lights the fire in the fireplace and settles into the chair across from the couch with a book to try and fulfill Crowley's request to stay.
He hasn't been accompanying Crowley when he's gone upstairs to sleep. He usually stays at his desk or in the chair here through the night. He hasn't wanted to disturb Crowley's rest and he's not found a desire to sleep himself.
Here now he must admit it is rather peaceful with the crackling fire warming the room and Crowley's low even breathing. Aziraphale feels himself relax back into his chair. The rate at which he's reading slows, he takes in one page after another, savoring the tranquility he's found.
He's two chapters in when he notices something about Crowley has changed.
His breathing is faster than it was. Aziraphale sets his book in his lap and looks closely at Crowley.
His eyes are squeezed shut, his brow is furrowed and along with breathing faster he's started make a noise that's not one that Aziraphale has heard coming from his friend before.
It's going to break his heart.
Crowley is whimpering.
Aziraphale gets up and puts his book down on the chair, what he'd been reading forgotten.
He takes a couple steps across the floor to Crowley's side and then stops, he remembers what happened in the cafe when Crowley woke up painfully. He hadn't even been distressed like this then.
Aziraphale isn't quite sure what to do. He doesn't want to startle the demon but he wants to help. He resigns to talking to try and wake him up. “Crowley... Crowley... it's just a dream...” He starts softly.
His words don't seem to be getting through. Crowley is pressing his face into his pillow and he's starting to shake.
Aziraphale is worried, he calls louder. “My Dear, wake up...” He leans closer over the couch.. “Please, Crowley...”
Crowley sits up with a start calling Aziraphale name loud enough it could have been heard on the far side of the shop. Aziraphale himself is startled and stumbles back a pace.
Crowley sits up wide eyed, chest heaving like he's run a marathon. He blinks when he sees Aziraphale. Tears spring to his eyes when they set upon the fire.
It takes a second for Aziraphale to process what is happening.
Crowley has tears in his eyes.
Crowley has tears on his face.
Crowley is crying.
“Oh, oh Dear. What's the matter...” Aziraphale is sitting at his side in a moment and then without hesitating takes Crowley in his arms. “It was a nightmare, it's alright... you're alright.”
His face is now pressed into Aziraphale's neck the way it had been pressed into his pillow. The angel can feel the wetness of the demon's tears on his own skin.
He rubs his hands along Crowley's back and feels him still trembling. “ssshhh ssshhhh Dear, it's alright.” He tries to assure him even though he doesn't truly know what the matter is.
“You were gone.” Crowley mumbles into his neck.
Aziraphale doesn't catch what he says the first time and the second time Crowley hiccups through making the words unintelligible. “Ssshhh sssshhh my dear, you're alright.”
Aziraphale feels the urge to wrap his arms all the way around the skinny demon and hold him tight. He instead continues to rub his back until Crowley seems to collect himself a bit.
“You were gone.” He breathes and Aziraphale finally understands the words and partially understands what's the matter.
“I'm here now, all in one piece, really, same old corporation, no harm done.” He smiles but Crowley isn't when he sits back and looks at the angel.
His eyes are red and puffy, his eyelashes are three miles long, his cheeks are flush and he's looking at Aziraphale with the most heart breaking of looks on his face.
“You were gone...” He says again with emphasis.
Aziraphale nods at the fact. “Yes, yes I know, it was all rather inconvenient.”
Crowley blinks and looks like he's fighting back tears. His voice is strained when he speaks again. “The whole place was up in flames, Angel... I couldn't sense you... you were just gone.”
Zira looks down embarrassed. “Yes discorporated by the transportation portal, stupid, foolish accident on my part. I'm just glad it didn't slow us down too much and what luck the antichrist decided I should have my body back.”
Crowley is gaping at him now and Aziraphale thinks he must have missed something.
“Crowley, it's over, no need to fret about it now.”
“...I, you... ngk...” Crowley looks down and away, brows furrowed.
Crowley seems to be quite upset about his discorporation.
Aziraphale isn't sure why.
It wasn't like he didn't come back, he wasn't destroyed. Maybe it was just the combination of the stress of the Apocalypse and all that happened, making his discorporation seem worse than it was.
“I ran into the building... it was fully engulfed and I couldn't sense you.”
“You did what?” The Angel's eyes get big. He hadn't heard that part of the story. “ That was foolish you could have been discorporated yourself and then where would we have been.”
“I went in to find you.” He says gold eyes trained on the floor.
“You needn't have...”
That gets Crowley's eyes back up on him, they focus on him with hurt and disbelief.
“I couldn't sense you... you weren't there. I thought I lost you... Heaven... or... or Hell had... I'd lost you for good.”
“You lost... me?” Aziraphale thinks about what he's saying.
He lost him.
That would mean.
Aziraphale didn't know... hadn't realized... Crowley's feelings about that... him.
“You, you daft angel... I lost you, my best friend.” His voice cracks. “when I close my eyes I can still see the flames and the pages burning, can still smell the...”
“The smoke.” Aziraphale realizes, he snaps his fingers and the fire in the fireplace disappears. “I'm sorry Dear I didn't know the fire would bother you.”
“It... It's... the nightmares would come anyway.”
Aziraphale gapes at Crowley. “Have you been having lots of nightmares?”
Crowley looks forlorn as a tear slides down his cheek.
“I can't sleep.” He admits and presses the heel of a hand into his eye as a sob catches in his throat.
This is worse than Aziraphale thought, all this time he thought Crowley was going upstairs and sleeping but apparently he's been suffering with painful bad dreams right above Aziraphale's head.
The Angel tries to think of something to help, if only for the moment. Anything he could do.
Crowley needs a way to relax and rest.
“How about we take a bath Dear?” Aziraphale has on occasion indulged in a long hot soak and found it very relaxing.
“A bath?” Crowley has somehow managed to get hold of his glasses and get them back on.
“Yes, a nice warm bath.”
“...we?” He asks uncertain.
“Yes, I think we can make it work.” They'd never done anything quite like it before but it just strikes Aziraphale as the best way to stay close and help.
“I don't know...”
“It doesn't have to be anything more than a bath.”
Crowley seems to think for a minute and then nods, a bit timidly. Aziraphale squeezes his hand reassuringly.
The bathwater is warm, Aziraphale adds some lavender oil to it. It's steamy and pleasant. He's made sure the lighting is dimmed and there's some soft music playing in the background.
“It's ready, my dear.” Aziraphale calls into the other room as he starts to disrobe.
He folds his clothing neatly and sets his things on a chair off to the side of the good sized washroom.
He runs a hand through the water and then steps in and lowers himself down. He sighs as the warm water surrounds him.
Crowley sneaks into the room wrapped in a dressing gown. He's left his glasses in the other room. Aziraphale can see clearly he's unsure about this.
“The water is warm Dear, do join me.”
Crowley nods and undoes his robe.
Standing uncovered even in the dim light blemishes on Crowley's body are visible.
Bruises on his shins and his hips, his shoulder. Just little things, but they add up. Apparently not sleeping had greatly diminished the demon's coordination.
“Oh Crowley.” Aziraphale breathes softly.
He steps closer to the tub and stops as if he's unsure where he fits.
“get in and lean back onto me.”
“Are you sure?”
“I am Crowley, Love.” Aziraphale scooches over some so it's easier for Crowley to step in. He steps in and hisses as he eases down into the warm water.
“Is it too hot?”
“nooo, I'll adjust.”
He sits tense in between Aziraphale's legs, his back to the angel.
“Here, lean back, you can relax.”
Crowley looks over his shoulder and bites his lip. He scoots down some and then sits back and lets his back touch Aziraphale's chest. He's still tense, still tight..
“It smells nice.” He comments letting his hand run through the water.
“A bit of lavender, it has a calming effect.”
“I like it...”
“that's good... I can get some for the bedroom.” Aziraphale makes a mental note.
“hum.” Crowley nods.
“You're alright to sit back, you can lean on me...”
“You won't be uncomfortable?”
“Never, Dear... I'd tell you if I was.”
“you're sure?”
“yes.”
Crowley blinks and cautiously leans back, a little bit nervous to lay all his weight on the angel. Aziraphale smiles as Crowley finally relaxes back and his head comes to rest on the angel's shoulder.
“Are you comfortable?” Aziraphale asks.
Crowley blinks slowly and sighs, a bit more tension releases from his muscles and he sinks a bit lower.
Aziraphale finds himself humming along with the music that's playing low.
Soon Crowley's eyelids start to droop and it isn't long after that his breathing evens out and Aziraphale can tell he's asleep.
Aziraphale keeps the water temperature consistent and lets Crowley sleep, until his fingers start to get uncomfortably pruney.
“I think it's time we got out dear boy.” Aziraphale whispers.
Crowley doesn't stir.
The Angel snaps and the water is gone from the tub, he snaps again and they are dry and in soft pajamas.
He gather's Crowley up in his arms. The sleeping demon weighs practically nothing for Aziraphale, a stack of Aziraphale's favorite misprinted bibles weighs more. He lifts Crowley easily from the tub and pads into the bedroom without Crowley doing more than breathing deeply.
He places Crowley on the bed and pulls the blankets up over him, tucking him in snuggly, then he crosses to the other side and gets in and under the covers himself. He's not going to leave Crowley alone, not tonight.
When the sun comes up the next morning Aziraphale is holding Crowley, an arm draped around his middle. He's propped up watching him sleep. He's been keeping watch all night.
Crowley hasn't moved all night, he's been in a deep sleep brought on by exhaustion.
Crowley sleeps even as the sun comes in stronger through the curtains and the sound of traffic picks up on the street below.
It is after ten when he starts to shift. Arms and legs moving in his sleep. Aziraphale watches closely and holds his breath concerned that this might be the start of a nighmare.
But it doesn't come.
Crowley continues to sleep peacefully, he even rolls over and pulls the blanket up over his shoulder.
He's facing Aziraphale now and shifts closer. Crowley breathes a sigh then sleepily nuzzles up so he's pressed in against Aziraphale's chest. He breathes deeply and contently.
Aziraphale's heart is happy seeing Crowley, his anxious on edge demon so at ease. He chuckles softly at the sight.
Crowley cracks one eye open and then the other at the sound.
“I'm sorry Dear I didn't mean to wake you.”
Crowley blinks bleary eyes at the angel. He smiles up at Aziraphale then seems to register that he doesn't know where he is or what time it is.
He shifts back and looks around, recognition sparking in his drowsy eyes and then he looks back to the angel. “how long have I been asleep?”
“nearly twelve hours my dear.” Aziraphale keeps his voice soft.
“Twelve, are you sure?” he looks like he doesn't or perhaps like he can't believe it. It must have been a long time since he's slept soundly through the night.
“Yes twelve, I don't know how refreshed you'll feel yet, it's the second sleep after exhaustion that's the recuperative one, I've read.”
Crowley gets a serious look in his eyes. Like he's trying to understand something but it's just out of his grasp.
“You... you stayed with me?'
“I wanted to be here and make sure you didn't have any bad dreams. It was a very peaceful all night, I'm happy to report.” The angel has a number of expression cross his face before he speaks again, starting mischievous and settling on fond. “My favorite part though was probably you snoozling in just now.”
“Snoozling? That's not a word.” Crowley says adamantly and scrunches up his nose in distaste.
“Oh it is, it's a cross between snooze and nuzzeling I believe... I can get a dictionary if you'd like...” Aziraphale teases.
“I do not snoozle.”
“Oh you did my dear, you snoozled.”
Crowley makes a annoyed noise in his throat as his ears get pink.
Aziraphale shakes his head and opens his arms. “Come here, my dear boy, There's no rush to get out of bed just yet. I like sharing the bed with you... of course I think I might need to miracle some books in if we stay too much longer.”
Crowley lays his head down on Aziraphale's pillow and lets the angel put his arms around him.
Aziraphale holds Crowley in his arms. They drift closer together, sharing the space, their legs intertwine, Arizaphale starts to run his fingers through Crowley's hair absently.
Then he notices Crowley's breathing hitch. His heart drops, thinking maybe Crowley's bad dreams have struck.
He looks down to see Crowley looking at him tears in his eyes. “Oh my dear, what's the matter?”
“nothing... nothing,” Crowley brushes at his cheeks. “I don't... know why I'm crying. I was just thinking how nice it is to be here with you and then the tears started.”
Aziraphale brushes away another errant tear that falls from Crowley's golden eyes.
“Oh Crowley, I'm happy to be here, to be with you. I'm not going anywhere.” He holds the demon just a bit tighter. “Come here, Love... snoozle in.”
Crowley rolls his eyes and then does just that, snoozles in and sleeps on Aziraphale's shoulder for another hour without any bad dreams.