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Tea.
It represents purity, tranquility, respect, and harmony.
Now Aziraphel didn’t believe he and Gabriel shared any of those things with each other, but preparing a quick glass of the stuff for the unwanted visitor was the least he could do.
Also due to the fact that the archangel was his former boss, and enemy(?)
The tea being filled with the holiest of water, or as Holy as he was able to get, understanding how the higher-ranked would not ruin his celestial body unless it was done holily.
It was a quick visit, or that was what Gabriel had claimed. The man wasn’t expected to show up for a while. So Aziraphale felt no harm would be done if he left the two drinks on the bookshop's table.
With that small matter sorted, Aziraphale soon realized that some tending to his bookshop was in order. He couldn’t make a bad impression on his hated guest after all!
A light feeling submerged the back of the Angel's mind, as if he were forgetting something, something ever so important to mention.
But those thoughts had evaporated the minute he laid eyes upon his spouse.
“Crowley, my dear! It’s pleasant to see you awake so soon.” Aziraphale was aware of how long the man in front of him had spent trying to fall asleep that previous night, so he was fully unprepared for the taller of the two to be present already.
“I had a feeling you were missing me.” He quipped, being as cocky as ever.
“Not quite, but I’m happy you’ve arrived. Now be a dear and help me clean?” The Angel prodded, cunningly as ever.
Crowley decided not to speak upon the Angels sudden choice to clean, paying it no mind. If the bookshop needed to be dusted, reorganized? So be it, he quite enjoyed the time he spent helping his partner.
And by the looks of the place, they would get to enjoy a long while of enjoyment, together.
That time they spent together, wasn’t as long as they’d thought as they had both drawn to the conclusion that they were only distracting each other with their presence.
“Well, we’re clearly not going to get anything done under these conditions.” The shorter of the two huffed. His mind wracking for a solution.
He found one.
“Ah, this would work better. Crowley?” Once he’d got his partner's attention, he resumed. “I’ll clean the fronter-half of the bookshop while you go and clean the back areas? Where we normally drink at.”
The Demon nodded, he already knew where his Angel meant without the added visuals.
And so they parted ways, or more so parted directions as they moved from one end of the bookshop to completely separate.
As Crowley was assessing what needed to be cleaned back there, he could feel a forbidden smile begin to creep its way onto his lips as his eyes fell upon the table.
On Top of the likely antique platter laid but only two cups. Two chalices, filled up to the very brim with an enchanting liquid.
Tea? In a cup that looked as if it could very well be a relic, his lover was spoiling him. There was no need to set up a tray looking so… Fancy only for the two of them.
Was this Aziraphale’s' way of repayal for the cleaning? He shouldn’t have. But Crowley was very much not against taking the offered drink.
As he carefully clasped the cup in front of his chest, he pondered if it would be too nice to verbally express his gratitude towards the Angel.
Why not?
Indoor voices no longer mattered, as the shop was vacated most of the time anyway, Crowley yelled out from out of his Angels view.
“Thank you for this, Angel!”
If Crowley had paid a little more attention, he would have noticed the way the Tea shined, so much brighter than any drink he had ever been gifted before.
The way he could feel the heat radiating from the beverage, despite the chalice containing it being as cold as steel.
He would’ve noticed how the Tea’s surface did not contain the leaves his partner knew were his favorite.
He would have seen the way the drinks were prepared, far too fancily for either of the Two’s taste, far too formal looking for two who were meant to be together.
And maybe if he’d listened a little more? He would’ve heard the scream Aziraphale let out as the precious metal brazed upon his lips.
Something had shattered spontaneously in his very hand, the sound drowned away by the distant scream that yelled out, surely it couldn’t have been the chalice. The very drink he had possessed in his hand not moments ago.
He could but only feel as the pure steel cracked beneath his fingers as if the liquid was combusting in on itself to escape. All noise from the shattering was immediately drowned out by the scream that followed.
He could feel a boiling liquid seeping into his hands, his chest, his body. It felt as if a million souls were attempting to discorporate him at once, to let him feel the death that only the living could experience.
Why did it hurt?
Why did it hurt so very much?
As panicked eyes locked upon his own leaking a liquid he wished not to see, he could only feel peace. Pain not daring to allow itself to take over, the room was dark now.
Dark despite the many candles that burned.
The feeling of darkness overcame him, and so did the unwelcomed consecration.
“Please, Dear,” Aziraphale muttered below with a hushed voice. Crowley was faintly aware of the gentle caress slithering up and down his arm. Arm.
Something had happened to it.
Not the one his partner was caressing, no. Something had happened.
It would have been good-natured for Crowley to give some advanced warning before he did what followed, but he didn’t play nice, and could purely blame the action on his mind not thinking straight.
He should probably at least attempt to try at thinking as he regretfully pushed himself up fast, soon realizing the error of his ways as the non cradled arm scorched with hot fury.
“Crowley-” Aziraphale gasped, quickly retracting the unoffending hand. The Angel sounded to be in pure disbelieved.
Was it the man two words that had awoken him so quickly? A miracle maybe? All would have to be explained in time as the Demon’s body shook.
It was completely involuntary, and out of his control. His body trying hard as if it were trying to escape the inescapable pain.
“Dear, Please. Stop moving!” Aziraphale sounded strained as if somehow Crowley had done this before.
“Wuh’ ‘appened?” The more injured of the two spat out, attempting his hardest at being coherent.
Those two decipherable words were enough to get the Angel crying again, whatever had happened was surely bad. He’d never seen his better half get this upset. Not in 6000 years.
“... You alright?” The Demon attempted to console, soon figuring out his attempt was worthless as that agonizing expression on his Angel was back.
“I- Of Course, I’m fine, Darling. I’m meant to be asking you the very thing.” Even though the upsettingly-pained expression, Aziraphale looked to his love expectantly. Needing to know the answer.
That answer Crowley didn’t know. Until he cocked his head below at himself.
The pain was becoming a lot more self-explanatory now. He had to have been on some form of medication at least, there was no realistic way that the Demon could’ve gone through this without feeling the devastating agony.
The higher part of his chest was carefully bandaged, his topper-half of clothes long since been removed. And barely below it was large square bandages covering whatever injury he had managed to sustain.
Even though his confused mind, he pondered on how Aziraphale was able to tend to the wounds without him remembering, even more, impressed on how the Angel had managed to slip pure silk nightwear on top of that.
His right arm was no better, the hand almost fully wrapped in some form of gauze, it was loose, like the ones wrapped around his chest. It ached more than the other wounds.
He’d heard a fact somewhere about these corporal bodies having so many more, ‘nerve endings' in the hands. How they were so advanced that if one were to poke it pure millimeters apart, the body would be able to tell the difference.
Astonishing, if not for the feeling of uncomfort.
And for the last wound? To his knowledge. Beneath his lip.
More so his chin, a curious wrapped hand went to trail up to it before a knowing one guided it back down. Feeling immense guilt from the snake-like hiss that came.
“I’m truly sorry, Crowley. Please don’t touch your wounds. Or moving, so.” The other fretted, looking a true ball of nerves.
Crowley was sure he was awake this time.
“Now you’ve discovered that little… Accident, can you recall for me what happened, Darling?”
He couldn’t, “Fraid not, Angel. Care to explain?” The tone did not at all mean to come through condescending, and he hoped his partner would know that. He really didn’t want to deal with risks right now, so for reassurance to himself and his lover, he added on a cautious, “... Please?”
Aziraphale sighed as he began to recall his side of the story.
Aziraphale was on the highest step of the Rolling Ladder, attempting to dust a rather unpleasant-looking area when he’d heard it.
The sound of his beloved Crowley yelling out to him, a thanking.
At that moment the Angel had realized two things.
Crowley had expressed gratitude. Which- He usually did in some form, but never outrightly.
Crowley was happy enough with whatever unknown action Aziraphale had done for him to get him to yell that.
Crowley was cleaning where their personal lounging area was.
Aziraphale had done nothing for Crowley. His mind hoped it was just some form of a petty attempt because of that.
The only thing Aziraphale had done was prepare Tea.
Holy Tea.
“CROWLEY!”
No matter how fast the Angel sprinted, he dreaded he would be too late as he narrowly avoided slipping on the books. He begged the Gods that for once he wouldn’t be too late to fix his un-Godly mistake.
A deadly mistake before it happened.
It felt rather cruel, like some poor trick of the universe. Personal payback for all the two of them had accomplished together. Of course, this was this unkind world's way of paying them back, for standing up for themselves.
Aziraphale hoped, wished. He’d reach his Dear in time before its too late. He begged that he could Miracle strong enough, just this once. Just for him.
The sound of shattering rang through the vacated space.
The Chalice had broken instantly. Aziraphale had arrived just in time to watch the water splatter.
All over Crowley.
The rapid contact immediately began to work its effect. The Demon gasped unknowingly as the sound of crackling and sizzling rang out through the air.
Aziraphale could only watch in horror as one of the weapons that he himself had used so long ago was being used once again. On someone, he loved so much.
Hot fury rang throughout him as he encased Crowley in his grasp as the Demon began to go down. Down to the ground, not the other place.
Because if Crowley left to the other place, it would be their goodbye.
“Crowley, Crowley.” Aziraphale breathed out, fear casing his tone. He’d always used Holy water for good. He’d used it one time for bad in the war, so he’d never have thought to learn what to do.
Angels were meant to hate Demons, vice versa. Nobody in their sane mind would have thought on how to heal another from that.
Which was why he could only watch as his mind dawned to a solution. A very shit solution, but one he had to try, for the sake of Crowley.
As all the tenseness In Crowley's body vanished, and the man only let go, Aziraphales hold didn’t dare let him hit the ground.
It had worked.
“So you miracled me unconscious?”
“So you found two fancily prepared drinks, unlike anything I have ever prepared for us before, and attempted to drink it?”
“...Might have done”
There was a pain that had returned, but it wasn’t coming from the Demon, no. It was a sharp pain in Aziraphale's chest, guilt.
His love had just been burned with one of the most brutal things a Demon could experience, and here he was being… Sarcastic.
“I’m so sorry Crowley-”
“It’s fine, Angel. It was my bloody fault anyway.” The man huffed, looking away. A slight blush on his face, one Aziraphale would have definitely mistaken for a fever if not had he just checked moments before he woke.
Ah, embarrassment.
“It was not your fault. I always make us tea. I enjoy it! It was I who forgot to mention Gabriel visiting us, I should’ve told you the moment I heard. You didn’t make the tea, I did.”
Crowley was silent for a moment, Aziraphale feared that the other would get rightfully mad. But felt surprised when he heard the small sounds of laughter.
“Are… Are you laughing at me?” The Angel flushed, feeling rather silly for his apology.
“We really are two idiots, aren’t we?” The Demon inquired.
“I suppose we are, Dear.”
“So, what happened after you unflatteringly knocked me out?” The Demon quipped.
It had been well over a day and a half since he’d first sustained his injuries, they still hurt like Hell and beyond, but with Aziraphale, attempting to tend to his every need, Crowley could find himself in good hands.
The Angel, in response to his question, pondered for a moment. “To be quite frank Dear, you scared me half to death. So I don’t remember fully, your wounds bled an awful lot, though. I’d be surprised if any amount of miracles got that bloodstain out.”
Crowley let out a low whistle, grinning slightly. As if he were somehow proud of his victorious amount of blood loss.
“I’m guessing you don’t let other Demon’s bleed all over your shop?”
“That’s only allowed for you, Dear.”
Crowley let out a delighted grin at the news, which Aziraphale softly returned. The two of them gazed for a moment, no words coming to mind until a look once again, fell upon the Angels face.
It was a look Crowley was far too familiar with, guilt.
“What have you done, Angel?” The Demon questioned. Curiosity beginning to overtake him. He was not answered as the other left the room.
The curiosity grew more as in the corner of his eye, Aziraphale could be seen attempting to place a tray out of Crowley's sight.
“So, what’s that?” He wasn’t going to stop asking until he knew.
“Ah- This? I don’t believe you would want it, my boy.”
“Is this some form of tempting me, Aziraphale?” Crowley had joked. Joked. But as soon as the muttered words had left his burned mouth, he could see a strained look painting the Angel’s features.
Which gave the impression that Crowley's random shot in the dark was right.
“Go on, Tempt me, Aziraphale.” He stated, he was fully devoted now to finding out whatever small thing the other was so adamant about not showing him.
He decided to add just in case, “Unless it’s more of that, ‘medicine.’ I’d rather discorporate than taste that disgusting stuff again.”
“Oh, Crowley. It’s not that foul, It’s flavored.”
“Yeah, flavored like shit. That had to have been something I pitched.”
“Wouldn’t surprise me in the slightest, Dear.”
If Crowley was thinking a little cleared, he would’ve known that was indeed something he had pitched. It was around the time he’d come up with the idea of, ‘No Tear Shampoo’ that made you cry like anything.
Aziraphale was confused in the silence that followed until the Angel realized that Crowley was still very much adamant on knowing the secret. Dreadfully, the Angel spoke.
“I had… Prepared two cups of tea for the both of us, but as I saw you… I quickly realized that giving it to you would be rather ill-timed and a little cruel of me, don’t you agree?” Crowley half agreed, it was a little ill-timed, yes. But Aziraphale had no intention of being cruel.
It had only been two days since the accident, and Crowley still had that strong feeling as if he never wanted to touch a cup of tea ever again.
But if he never drank the unwanted beverage again, he would have no excuse to randomly sit beside his Angel, no calming talks anymore where they would quietly ask how each others day had been.
No more enjoying the drinks especially made by Aziraphale just for him. And anything made by Aziraphale was exquisite.
…
“I think I could handle a cup, as long as there’s no Holy Water in it this time.”
Crowley really, really needed to stop joking about that.
Was it funny?
A little.
A Demon being poisoned by an Angel.
Now that wasn’t too ironic, actually. But the fact it was by his partner accidentally? That made it a whole new level of comedic.
As Aziraphale went to re-fetch the warm tray, he whined slightly. “Now Crowley, I promise you, I would discorporate anyone who dares even thinks of bringing that cursed liquid into this store.”
The non-holy drinks sat on the tray in front of them.
“I believe you, Angel. I’m only messing with you.”
The Angel huffed. “I would sure hope so.” He would do anything to protect his Demon from ever getting hurt again.
So as Crowley scootched over on the far too small bed, Aziraphale climbed on top as they sat together. Talking as if nothing had happened the prior days.
They were so thankful that they would be able to spend an eternity together, forevermore.