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Occult beings weren't ones to get sick.
They couldn't, in fact. Except for some certain one currently laying sprawled on their couch, trying his best to breathe properly. He didn't know why this was. He just remembered chilling by the garden while it rained last night. He didn't expect anything to happen. Maybe his body had gotten that accustomed to humans in the last centuries.
Aziraphale had left early that day to go to the bookshop. He didn't really open it anymore, just some days of the week, as he preferred to be hanging in the cottage. He had opened that specific day, as he heard the phone ring on the other side of the shop.
"Hello, this is-"
"Angel, it's me." Crowley blurted out, his voice a bit more hoarse than normally.
"Oh, hello, dear. How are you doing?" Aziraphale answered calmly. The smile could be heard in his voice through the line.
"Bad. Very, very bad. Horribly."
Aziraphale remained silent for a second.
"Crowley, dear, are you saying that just for me to come back home? You know you can always come here."
" 'am not. I don't know what happened last night, but I'm.." he trailed off.
"You're?"
"I'm sick." He said a bit more quietly.
"... Crowley-"
"I know-" he said, his voice slightly breaking. "I said I don't know it happened. But I'm not lying. It's for real."
"Oh dear.." Aziraphale muttered, fidgeting with the cable of the phone. "Have you taken anything?"
"Medicine won't work, already tried that. Seems like that's only for humans."
Aziraphale sighed, looking down at the table. "It's okay, my dear. Are you in bed?"
"No. Couch." Crowley muttered a bit more calmly, adjusting his position now that he was self aware.
"Get in bed, dear boy. I'll be there soon alright?" Aziraphale said gently.
"Yeah, okay." Crowley said with a small cough at the end.
Aziraphale smiled slightly, placing the phone back in its original place and fixing his coat slightly as he picked up the book he had been reading and walked up to the front door of the shop.
_--__---_----_-----_-
Crowley sat up on the couch, rubbing the back of his neck. That usual, painful itch on the back of his shoulder blades showing up once again, mixing with the pain in the back of his throat and up on his head. He sighed and felt like it was a good moment for it as he carefully stretched, letting the black feathers get air for a bit. He stretched his wings as he could, trying not to knock out the pile of three books Aziraphale had left before stacked up on the table next to the couch.
He stood up with a small groan, walking upstairs to the bedroom, trying not to fall over the stairs, as the simple fact of trying to stand up was already making him feel dizzy. He reached the bedroom door, opening it aggressively and flopping onto the mattress.
Thanked god herself that he had listened to Aziraphale, cause laying in the bed messily was already more comfortable than just laying on the couch. He crawled (heh, crawled) into the bed properly, laying his head on the soft pillows Aziraphale had picked for them when he was busy messing around with the living room's decoration.
At least they were comfortable. Uncomfortably comfortable, if you asked me. So comfortable that anyone that laid their head on them would automatically crave having a nap. Maybe that wasn't all the pillows but a bit of an angelic miracle, in between. Who knows.
Crowley sighed, covering himself with the sheets and sprawling his wings comfortably. Both his head and throat still hurt like hell - or heaven, who knows - but he couldn't do anything about it.
Suddenly, there was a small noise from the bedroom's door.
Aziraphale gently opened it making as less sound as possible, glancing inside.
"Dear? Oh, there you are." He mumbled carefully, walking inside. He sat on the edge of the bed.
"Mind if I?" He whispered, placing his hand gently on Crowley's arm through the sheets. Crowley shook his head gently. He then moved it from his arm, placing it gently on Crowley's forehead.
"Oh, you're freezing, dear boy." Aziraphale muttered, running his hand through Crowley's hair gently. "Does your head hurt?"
Crowley nodded gently. With a gentle snap of his fingers, Aziraphale closed the window's curtains.
"I knew winter was usually tough for you with the cold blood, dear, but I didn't expect it to hit that hard.." he muttered. "Do you want a cup of tea?"
Crowley thought for a moment, nodding gently as he nuzzled closer against the sheets. Aziraphale smiled gently, placing his hand in Crowley's cheek and giving him a small kiss on the forehead.
He snapped his fingers once again, grabbing the cup gently from the side table where it had been miracled into. Crowley sat up, taking it carefully from the angel's hands. He took a small sip from the warm drink, sighing as it hit the back of his throat. Aziraphale smiled, just glancing into his eyes.
Crowley drank a bit more of it and carefully let the cup aside, closing his eyes for a moment.
"You okay, dear boy?" Aziraphale whispered, brushing his thumb gently against Crowley's palm. He smiled slightly, laying his head gently on Aziraphale's shoulder. Aziraphale smiled as well, running his hand through Crowley's hair gently.
"Yeah." Crowley whispered, wrapping his arms loosely around the angel. Aziraphale just smiled and kissed Crowley's cheek, stroking his hair with maximum care, trying his best not to make any damage to it, even though they both knew that that wasn't possible from an angel who's original purpose was to be a protector.
They stayed in silence for a moment there.
"Do you want me to groom your wings?"
Crowley chuckled. First chuckle of the day. Except when Aziraphale had kissed him goodbye that morning. Although he doesn't recall chuckling. He doesn't have to know anyways.
"Alright.”