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Crowley was worried.
He didn’t want Crowley to be worried, poor demon. Everything was greyer when Crowley was worried. Or upset. Or elsewhere, really. And right now, Crowley was definitely worried.
It’s alright, he thought, trying to bring back Crowley’s joy. I’m here. But he couldn’t say it. Couldn’t open his mouth, couldn’t make the sounds.
And besides, it wasn’t true anyway, was it? Not really.
He wasn’t really here.
It wasn’t really alright.
He struggled to move, shout, say Crowley’s name. Something. Fought and then stopped fighting, stuck and exhausted.
“Aziraphale?” Crowley had talked, then yelled, and now sat beside him whispering. He couldn’t properly react to any of it. “I took care of the book-- what made you buy a cursed book to begin with? It won’t bother you again, or anyone. But I need you to come back to me. Okay? Come back.”
Oh, Crowley sounded so distressed, poor thing. It’s alright, he thought again. You’ll figure it out, you clever, clever demon.
“I called Book Girl,” he was saying now. “She’s on her way. I don’t know if she can help, but... you know. Human magic. Never my strongest suit, better with demon curses. Or angel ones, I guess, but I only ever did yours so I never had to break ‘em.”
The bell up front tinkled, sounding airy and far away. Crowley turned and said “Back here!”.
“We got here as soon as we could. Where is he-- oh.” Anathema leaned over him, her dark hair falling free. “Aziraphale? Can you hear me?”
I hear you, he tried, but he couldn’t say anything.
She glanced aside. “Tell me you still have the object?”
“You mean, tell you that a cursed item that could do this to an angel is something I just left lying around? No, I don’t still have it.”
“If I could look at it, I might get a better idea of what the curse is.”
“Start with him. If you need, I can show you what I remember, but... him first. Can’t you tell from the effects?”
“Okay. Could you... could you step out to the other room with Newt for a sec? I need to look at his aura and your energy is really distracting right now.”
“You want me to leave him?”
“Not leave him,” Newton’s voice, out of sight. “Just back here. We won’t be far.”
Crowley grumbled, moving farther away.
Anathema leaned in front of him and looked into his eyes. “Aziraphale? We’ll fix this. I just need a good look at you.”
I believe in you, dear girl.
She flared in front of him, then wobbled and sat back. “Oh. Wow. Yeah. Crowley?”
Crowley leaned in now, touching his face. “Can you fix it? What’s wrong?”
“I think I can. I just need... Ow. Need a minute. And a broom. Does he have a broom?”
“Yeah. I’ll get one.” Crowley moved away.
“I thought he’d just... poof dust away,” Newt said.
“Sometimes he likes to aggressively sweep at customers until they bugger off. Aha! Here.” A clatter. “This one do?”
“Perfect. Now hush.”
Long minutes of quiet, broken only by Anathema’s low murmur.
Even bound as he was he could feel the tension building, the rising human magic. It built, built, built until the pressure squeezed him, shackled him... and then it popped, made him yearn to stretch his jaw and pop his ears.
“...That’s it?” Crowley said. “He doesn’t look better.”
“We’re not quite done. There’s one more step.”
He heard rustling, strained to hear what might come next, and--
THWAP!! the broom came down right on his chest.
“Oww!” he yelled, sucking in a great breath and only then realising he could move again.
“You hit him!” Crowley shouted, and grabbed at the broomstick.
“Yes, she did,” Aziraphale said, sitting up and rubbing at his chest. “Well done, dear girl. Possibly a trifle enthusiastic, though.”
“Angel!” Crowley stopped fighting for the broom and grabbed Aziraphale instead. “Don’t ever do that to me again. Not ever. You understand?”
“Yes, well. Lesson learned.” He leaned into Crowley, winced at the pins-and-needles of everything coming back online, and held his demon still for a kiss. “We can discuss all that later. For now, though... where did you learn that, Anathema?”
“Agnes,” Anathema said simply, tucking the broom into a corner. “She left notes on curse-breaking, but most of them came down one way or another to ‘give it a good whack.’”
“Clearly, she was wise beyond her time,” Aziraphale said, and resolved to wait til she had gone to get a closer look at what she had done to his broom.