Chapter Text
A little over an hour passes before Nina and Maggie return to the bookshop with their arms loaded with grocery bags. Aziraphale looks up from where he’s been fussing with a disorganised bookshelf. He has one hand pressing his phone to his ear and the other hand propping up some books against one side of the shelf.
“Yes, well, Nina and Maggie have just arrived with the grocery shopping, I’ll let them know you’re on your way. Thank you, dear, we shall see you in a jiffy”.
“Who’s that?” Nina asks as she roughly sets down the heavy bags in the kitchen area. Maggie does the same and shakes out her arms, hissing in pain as she does.
“Anathema. She’s going to pop ‘round and check in on everything. She’s leaving her shop now so she'll be here soon. Better put the kettle on,” Aziraphale explains, moving to help the ladies unpack the shopping.
“How’s he been?” Maggie speaks up after a long while. Aziraphale just shrugs a little disheartened as he returns to the bookshelf once more. They follow him, waiting for him to offer more information. When nothing more comes forth, Nina frowns.
“What’s the matter with you,” she asks in concern, “that you’re not talking to us? Something happen?” Aziraphale just shrugs again in reply and continues his task. Maggie steps forward and places a hand on his arm causing him to pause.
“You okay, Fell?” she asks quietly. He just nods silently without moving any more.
“Wanna come sit?” Nina tries, so he walks over to her and sits down tiredly as if he were a puppet and lost his strings.
“I am coming to realise I have been asking so much of you both without offering much in return,” he starts nervously while wringing his hands together in his lap. “And now things are changing, again, and I don’t know how to ask you for anything more… I know you said you wanted to help, but how could you want to stay around while it keeps continuing and everything is so unsure…”
“Aziraphale…” Nina murmurs, reaching out for his arm. They don’t get the chance to unpack this as a sharp knock at the bookshop’s door interrupts them. Aziraphale stands immediately, brushes invisible creases out of his clothes and strides to the door. Anathema enters with a smile and wraps him in a warm hug, which he melts into.
“Oh, Az, it’s so good to see you,” she says quietly as he pulls away, plastering a smile on his face. Nina and Maggie follow suit pulling Ana into their arms.
“I’m glad to see you too, Ana, thank you for coming by,” he says, following the other three to the kitchen area to pour some cups of tea. Ana gratefully accepts her hot mug and enquires about Crowley, still sleeping peacefully in the lounge area. She notes the change in her senses since she’d last been able to visit him.
“It’s better, in here. I mean, I’m still sensing something off-putting lingering but nothing like the strength and the evil we’ve been dealing with here. I’ll talk with him when he wakes up but it’s good; it’s really good,” she notes, to the others’ great relief.
Aziraphale always trusts her intuition. He doesn’t feel entirely at ease, however, and leads her to Crowley’s bedside where they each take up a seat. “Thank you, Ana,” he whispers and takes Crowley’s clammy hand in his. “I’m sure whatever’s happening to him is far from over but it is wonderful news to hear the wretched curse has left him”. He leaves out the part bouncing about in his mind: for now. He’s finding it harder and harder to convince himself that things could be looking up, when they still know so little. If -when- he finds those awful demons who started this… smiting won’t even be considered.
“It is looking up,” Ana comforts him, “and you best believe that curse isn’t coming back for him. It’s lost its power; like a parasite it will wither without its host. I’m barely picking up anything but residue, even sitting here right now. It’s good, Aziraphale”. He nods and smiles a sad smile, turning his attention to his love’s calm face, tucked into the blankets and sleeping soundly.
Maggie stands then, clearing her throat. She retrieves a thermometer from seemingly nowhere and reaches down to Crowley’s face. After a brief pause, she reels it back in and stares at the reading, chewing on her bottom lip. Nina leans in to look over her shoulder and comments, “still pretty high up there, look,” and takes it from Maggie to show the other two.
At that moment, Crowley decides to stir awake. They’re alerted by a muffled groan as he pulls the blankets over his face and stretches out his long legs. Aziraphale reaches to touch the mop of red hair atop his head when Crowley makes a sudden move to sit up. Swiftly, the blankets are thrown back and he somehow manages to get the strength to sit up at about a 75° angle, before he’s being steadied by too many hands and voices filtering in telling him to “slow down” and “lay back”. But he’s not listening to them as he grips the nearest arm with all his strength (which may not be very much). Maggie notices his pale face turning a subtle shade of green.
“Wait-“ she manages before being cut off by Crowley whimpering followed by a short gag as he doubles over. The others can only watch as Maggie shoves a bin into his lap just in time for him to empty his -already empty- stomach.
Aziraphale holds him up with one hand pressed firmly to his chest and another wrapped around his now trembling shoulders. It’s only half a minute or so before he’s finished and leans heavily into Aziraphale who climbs up to sit next to him on the bed and pulls him close. He gently wipes sweaty curls out of his face, shushing Crowley’s quiet whimpers between hiccups. Maggie leaves with the bin.
“Might be time for a hair cut,” Aziraphale ponders as he continues to hold Crowley close against his side. Nina returns with a cold towel (Aziraphale must’ve missed her leave to fetch it) and drapes it across the back of Crowley’s neck, causing him to immediately reach back to grab for it. His hand is caught by Ana this time and he whines, trying to push her away.
“No, it’s t-too c-cold,” he stutters through chattering teeth and heavy breathing. Aziraphale just rubs a firm hand up and down his shoulder trying to comfort him a little.
“You’re burning up, honey; it’s that or an ice bath,” Nina reasons, crossing her arms over her chest. Crowley pointedly glares at her before turning his face into Aziraphale’s chest. Aziraphale takes the chance to lean back so Crowley can lie back down and cuddle into him more comfortably, which Crowley obliges.
“Ang’l, ‘m dizzy,” he murmurs after a while, voice muffled by Aziraphale’s shirt. Nina hears him, though, and pokes him on the arm.
“Just a second, Crowley, hang on. Don’t go passing out before we get this sorted,” she says, taking a syringe from Maggie and injecting it into his arm. “We’ll use this medicine to bring your fever down again, okay?”
Crowley just presses his face more into Aziraphale’s shirt, trembling still. “What kind of dizzy?” Aziraphale whispers as he presses a light kiss to his hair.
“Bad d’zzy,” he whispers, bringing both hands up to cling onto the fabric of Aziraphale’s shirt. Aziraphale looks up at the others already moving the old IV out of the way and pulling their chairs closer to the bed. Anathema frowns, leaning closer imperceptibly.
“Oh, that’s okay, darling. Don’t worry… I’m right here,” Aziraphale whispers, squirming to get more comfortable as the bed miracles slightly larger once more.
Crowley feels another kiss to his hair as he begins to lose consciousness. He feels himself tense up just as everything goes black.