A Calm Despair
Aziraphale woke on a day that seemed little different than any other. A calm silence blanketed the world around him. Usually, Aziraphale liked this time to read. But he knew he wouldn't see Crowley that day, and he almost missed the hectic chaos the demon threw into the world.
Aziraphale didn't worry though. This was the way things went. For now, Crowley would be haggling in Hell for a new body and in that short time, even the trees would breathe a sigh of relief, just as they likely screamed in terror during Aziraphale's temporary absences.
Nevertheless, things were less exciting, Aziraphale thought as he passed the the local farmer that, for once, was having no trouble with cows getting out of his pasture. The autumn leaves slowly drifted to the ground around Aziraphale's feet, calmly almost. Aziraphale worried when Crowley was away. And if you asked, he wouldn't admit he recognized the difference between the calm he felt when he'd successfully inspired someone to thwart evil and the calm despair he felt when his best friend was gone.
Maybe it was because Aziraphale knew that Crowley couldn't feel the same calm. He wanted him to, but Crowley was a demon and Hell was about as far away from calm as a person could get. The only calm part of Crowley was the rotting body. No wonder he liked it more here.
"That's ineffability I suppose," Aziraphale sighed and told himself not to worry. Crowley would be back. He always was.