Chapter Text
Aziraphale sets his book atop the armrest and wriggles his toes, legs numb from the lack of moving and the pressure of the demon curled on top of his legs.
Crowley stretches his long limbs with a sigh and sits up slowly to avoid any lingering lightheaded feelings. He places his hand on Aziraphale’s shoulder and uses it to push himself to his feet.
Aziraphale is fast and is standing beside him with an arm wrapped around his waist in a blink.
“I’m fine. Just… just give me a second,” Crowley growls but he doesn’t move away for a long moment.
Aziraphale follows him closely like a puppy while Crowley gets his legs working again after having laid down for hours. “How are you feeling after getting some actual sleep?” he asks.
“Oh, much better. I feel like me again, Angel. I feel great, really”.
“Are you sure? Whatever is going on isn’t just going to disappear on its own, dear”.
“And how do you know that, hmm? We don’t even have a clue what the bloody thing is”.
“Well, Anathema identified a curse-“
“A curse, yes. But can we deduce its source, its origin? How to stop it? No. Didn’t think so. So I am going to take what I can get and roll with it and I am going to make the most of the good right now, thank you”.
Aziraphale rolls his eyes but can’t deny him this. “In that case, would you be interested in some tea? Or some lunch? Easy on the stomach, though, we don’t want to tempt the devil now do we”.
It’s Crowley’s turn to roll his eyes. “Whatever. I do need coffee, though. I’m getting coffee now that I can stand straight enough to order it,” he says as he turns in the direction of the shop’s door.
“Order it? I’d imagined we’d stay here, so you can rest”.
“You imagined wrong, Angel. Like I said, I’m not going to sulk around while I’m feeling good as new. Plus, I need some fresh air and I need to do something or I’ll go mad”.
“Right, well, I’m going to pop upstairs and do a quick clean-up,” but Crowley’s already opening the door impatiently. Aziraphale sighs, “I’ll meet you there in five minutes?”
“Yup,” comes the reply as the door slams. Aziraphale manages to keep another sigh in, used to his frustrating yet amusing antics since the Beginning, and retreats upstairs.
Luckily for Nina, the cafe was quiet during lunchtime. She got to enjoy a nice coffee with her wife while she too could get away from her -quiet- shop.
However, the bell above the door serves as a welcome distraction from one of their elevating discussions on electricity usage.
“Maggie, Nina, hello. Coffee please? I’m parched,” Crowley greets as he strides straight for the counter where the two are seated, his eyes beelining for the coffee machine in only half-exaggerated desperation. Him and his coffee…
“Hi Crowley, coffee-o-metre low, is it?” Maggie smiles at him as Nina gets up to fill a large black mug. They started putting aside a few mugs especially for him months ago. Aziraphale thinks it’s incredibly sweet. Crowley acts indifferent, but they know it excites him to have his own mugs at the cafe.
“Yeah,” he replies as he watches Nina swirl the drink around and eventually hold it out for him to take. “Thanks,” he adds, suddenly quieter.
Maggie’s eyebrows furrow in slight concern and Nina’s just about to ask if something is wrong with the coffee when she notices his hands starting to quake. Hot coffee splashes his hands and he hisses, fumbling and nearly dropping it completely.
“Woah, hey,” she breathes as she snatches the mug back and sets it aside, hands instantly back on his with a tea towel.
“Don’t burn,” he tries, breathing heavier now. She ignores him and wipes the boiling drink off of his skin.
“Bull shit. You might not burn but you feel the pain, Crowley,” Maggie is standing by him on his side of the counter now. He looks at her with a confused frown, belatedly noticing she’d moved.
“Done. Easy, see? Now tell us what’s wrong,” Nina leans her arms on the counter top and studies his pale face. “Crowley, what’s wrong,” she repeats after a few seconds.
“Shit. ‘m not well,” he gasps between quickening breaths. Nina rushes round to his other side right as the strength leaves him and he shakily sinks to his knees on the cold floor. “Sorry”.
“No, don’t be sorry, just tell us what’s happening, yeah? What do you need?” Nina says, followed by a soft grunt as she helps Maggie lift him to his feet and walk him to the back room.
“Not good,” he gasps. “Not well”.
“We got that, Crowley. That doesn’t answer us much,” Nina says.
Maggie notices his attention waning and speaks quickly, “do you need to lie down?”
“Mmm,” he hums and blinks slowly to try to stop the spinning while they guide him onto the long couch.
“Alright, yep, there you go, how’s that? Comfortable enough?” Maggie asks. He hums in reply, eyes sluggishly focusing and unfocusing every few seconds. “Right. Nina, fetch a cushion, then maybe fetch Mr. Fell?”
“Yeah, was thinking the same,” Nina says as she prompts him to lean forward so she can ease a cushion under his head. She places her hand on his forehead and he closes his eyes tiredly at the sensation. “He’s pretty warm,” she remarks.
“He did say he wasn’t well,” replies Maggie.
“Yeah, could be,” Nina shrugs.
Crowley opens his eyes once more and glances at them both with confusion and promptly passes out. It’s only a couple of seconds before he yelps and curls in on himself. Anyone else might assume he’s in pain, but they both know he’s actually unconscious; this is how many of his seizures start out.
“Alright, I’ll go now. You okay here?”
“‘course. He’ll want Mr. Fell when he wakes up. And maybe Mr. Fell knows what’s wrong, like if he’s sick or something”.
Nina nods and replies, “be back in a sec,” as she walks out of the back room into the shop.
As she is twisting the sign on the door to “closed” she hears someone start a hesitant jog towards her from behind. She turns around to find Aziraphale making his way to her with a puzzled expression.
“Mr. Fell! I was just about to come find you,” she starts in her most professional calmness.
“What’s happened? Is he okay?” he deduces the problem quickly.
“He’s okay, I promise. He’s in the back room with Maggie. He’s been down less than a minute, he’s alright,” she reenters the cafe with Aziraphale at her side.
“Dear me, I knew he’d find himself in trouble. He wanted to go out, and I let him, alone,” he grumbles anxiously.
Nina stops him from walking any further. “Woah, where’s this coming from? Aziraphale, he was fine when he came in. And he’s at the right place. Don’t start persecuting yourself,” she reasons.
He drops his chin and nods. Then, they make their way to the back room, and Aziraphale drops to Crowley’s side in an instant.
He gently cups his cheek in one hand, his other coming to rest on his chest. Despite the taut muscles spasming under his hands, he calms as he feels his breath and his -rapid- heartbeat going strong.
It’s an odd thing that Nina and Maggie have only partially understood, even now.
From what they understand, his condition is entwined with his being. After many years and eventually a body, Crowley discovered a glaring lack of discorporation. He was able to experience all of the physical problems that a human would associate with a TBI, but without the threat of discorporation or death. Except when something goes wrong, it makes him suffer longer and worse. For example, Crowley nearly aspirated on his own vomit once and Aziraphale had to explain over a box of tissues and Valium that he wouldn’t die, but yes, he would have lingering problems for days. There were always risks that would not allow him to discorporate but would cause a barrage of issues in its wake, and Aziraphale often worried that further brain damage was possible.
This all left him seemingly human, yet human treatments provided no aid at all. Not even miracles work (but Aziraphale refuses to talk on that aspect, his mind drifting to its past implications before he always abruptly changes the subject with forced cheeriness).
So right now, they understand that Aziraphale’s relief was because Crowley’s corporation was working normally.
“See, he’s fine,” Nina says reassuringly as she squats beside Aziraphale.
“Yes… yes, I know. However, I do feel a sense of guilt. If you weren’t here… he’d have been alone. And I was later than I said I would be, and I… I don’t know,” he sniffs quietly before the tears can form and stands. He brushes his hands down his coat. “Right, anyway, yes. Thank you both. We are so lucky to have you”.
“Do you need a hug, Mr. Fell?” Maggie asks knowingly and pulls him into her arms. She’s smaller than him but makes up for it with strong arms and very good hugs.
Crowley starts to relax, the only noise in the shop his ragged breaths.
“It’s a curse,” Aziraphale starts, watching him with anxious eyes.
At their confused gazes, he continues, “something happened to him a couple of days ago. We’re not sure who did this, or why, or even how… but it’s not looking good for him. Ana came over and couldn’t even stay long due to a strong negative energy blocking it from any interference. We’re at a loss for now. He’s been so sick, not an alarming amount worse than in the past, but it just feels wrong. He says it feels wrong. I’m scared, honestly, because I don’t want it to continue but I fear it is far from over. I can’t do this…”
“What can we do to help?” Maggie asks when Aziraphale trails off.
“I- what? I don’t expect you- either of you to… help,” he stammers, ever surprised in the face of kindness returned unto him.
Nina and Maggie share a look and that settles it. “We’ll help. Let us help. Please,” Nina says.
Crowley is silently watching the whole exchange with tired eyes. “Please,” he whispers and he receives 6 stunned eyes whipping his way. “Please help. Him. It hurts him. Don’t want him hurt. I can’t help. I need help. Maggie, Nina. Please”.
Aziraphale takes his clammy hand in both of his own.
“Let us help you both, Aziraphale,” Maggie says. She rarely calls him by his name, feeling a dash of nostalgia with respect and familiarity at calling him ‘Mr. Fell’.
“It would be very much appreciated. Truly. Although, we don’t want to cause you stress or use your precious time. So if that won’t be an issue at all, please, please, please be there with us. You both have been such great friends and a bigger help than you will ever know,” says Aziraphale.
“Well then. It’s settled. Let me grab a few things and we will come over right away. No issues at all,” Nina replies and Maggie nods along in agreement.
“Thank you,” Crowley croaks out from where he’s buried his face in the cushion. He lifts his head for air a minute later and it’s just him and Aziraphale left in the room.
“You good?” he asks as Aziraphale helps him sit up and sip some cool water.
“Me? Of course, my dear. Are you “good”, is the real question”.
“M’fine,” he grumbles. “Would be better in a bed though if I’m being honest”.
“You? Honest? Wow, you must be feeling dreadful,” Aziraphale teases.
“Shut up”.
“No. Let’s go, up we get. Let’s head home, nice and slow, yeah? And you will inform me the second you need a break, won’t you…”
“Yeah. Whatever. Just wanna sleep, Angel, let’s move”.
They haven’t even reached the bookshop’s first step when Crowley snaps his fingers and the door swings open. Aziraphale slaps his wrist dramatically.
“Crowley! No miracles, hear me? You’re drained enough, I don’t want you using more strength than necessary”.
“‘m fine,” he mutters grumpily.
“Stop it, I won’t hear any of that, thank you. You just focus on lifting your feet enough to climb the steps safely”. Crowley mumbles something unintelligible with a frown.
They somehow make it to the top in good time, with no unfortunate trips or stumbles up the staircase. Aziraphale leans down to help Crowley sit on the edge of the bed and slides off his stylish black boots.
“Can take my own shoes off, Angel, you know”.
“Just lie down you silly serpent,” he fusses.
Crowley doesn’t mean to fall asleep so soon but he lets his eyes fall closed to the sound of soft humming and warm arms curled around his middle.