"Welcome back, Aziraphale. Ah-ah, don't say anything. Just let me look at you.

"Been a long time since you've been up here, Aziraphale. Lost a bit of weight! Congratulations. I don't know that I agree with the outfit choices, but it's better than the fucking tweed.

"Now, I don't care about any of that. I care about the numbers. The miracles, Aziraphale. Where have they gone? You used to throw them away like they were nothing and now I don't think we've gotten any reports from you in a month. It's scary, Aziraphale. I'm worried about you. Truly, I am. Poor angel, alone in the world. Suddenly lost the motivation for miracles after the world didn't end, hmm?

"Why are you crying? Keep your head up, Aziraphale. I haven't done anything to hurt you.

"Look, I'm going to be honest with you, okay? Get your fucking numbers up. It's your fault the Earth is still turning, so you of all people should be working hard to keep it that way. If I don't see better numbers from you by the end of next month, we'll have to talk about your...options.

"Thanks for taking the time out of your busy schedule to drop by. I know how hard it is to pull yourself away from all the fuss down there, but don't forget you're one of us. Oh, and Aziraphale?

"You better not try to run. Because if you do, it will be me pushing you off a damn cloud, and I will make sure it's very, very high."

"Calm down, dear, you're going to be fine."

"Deep breaths. In! Out. In! Out."

"Hold my hand, dear. There you go. You're alright."

"Can you still hear me? Talk to me, dear. Deep breaths!"

"Drink some water, you'll feel better. Don't choke! That's it, there you go."

Crowley never expected that Madame Tracy would be the one to talk him through a panic attack. But here she was, somehow doing everything right.

He had called her and Anathema right after Aziraphale vanished, and had collapsed after hanging up. He'd been awake the whole time and had managed to miracle the door open so the women could get in.

"Anathema! Grab the blanket off the couch, if you please."

Anathema did so, wrapping it around Crowley.

"Let me know if I need to let go," Madame Tracy said before hugging Crowley through the blanket.

Just being able to smell his angel again, along the sensation of being held, was enough to get Crowley breathing again. Eventually he was just sobbing, and Madame Tracy held him tighter.

"Oh, Crowley, dear. Everything is going to be alright. There has to be an explanation for where Aziraphale's gone to, and I'm sure he'll be back once he's able to. But you've got to be strong until he comes back, alright? We're here to help you get through this. Keep breathing, dear."

"He was right there," Crowley cried. "I was holding him. And then he was gone." He sniffled. "I know he's in trouble, and I was supposed to be able to help him, but...but I've lost my best friend again!"

"Don't worry, Crowley. We'll figure out what's going on. We just need to hope that Aziraphale comes back soon."

There was a loud bang and a flash of light, and Aziraphale appeared on the floor of the flat, shaking, soaked in sweat, and smelling of frankincense.

"Crowley," he gasped, reaching out. Crowley freed himself from the blanket and crawled over, throwing himself around Aziraphale.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

"No!" Aziraphale replied.

"Neither am I," Crowley sobbed. Aziraphale started crying as well, breath shallow.

"Anathema," Madame Tracy called. "We'll need more tea."

"I am sworn to carry your burdens," Anathema muttered, too quietly for anyone but herself to hear.

"Where did you go?" Crowley asked.

"Gabriel...called me to Heaven," Aziraphale said.

"Oh, angel," Crowley groaned, holding Aziraphale tighter.

"Yes," Aziraphale said softly.

"It appears I am."

Crowley and Aziraphale didn't let go of each other for the rest of the day. They were either holding hands or hugging, just touching each other wasn't enough.

Anathema found it a bit annoying, but understood deep down. Madame Tracy had battered around the kitchen for some tea, and had managed to whip up two warm cups that the celestial boys were now holding in their spare hands.

Aziraphale told the group what Gabriel had said in between ships of tea, not minding that he was scalding himself in the process.

"Too bad there's no HR in Heaven," Anathema said. "It's not like you can just quit, unless that's how Falling works?"

"It's a bit more complicated than that," Crowley said, remembering his own downward saunter with a shudder.

"What should we do?" Madame Tracy asked.

"Sounds like we've got a month to figure it out," Anathema shrugged. "No sense worrying over it right now. These two need rest right now, and then we can figure out a plan when they aren't still in shock. Sound good?"

Crowley nodded. Aziraphale had slumped down next to him, looking like he was about to pass out already.

"Let's get some rest," he agreed.

"Aziraphale! Catch!"

Crowley threw a frisbee in Aziraphale's direction. Aziraphale jumped and caught it, landing gracefully back on his feet. He gave a little bow for Crowley, who ran across the park to give Aziraphale a hug.

"Look at you go! C'mere," he said, giving Aziraphale a wet, sloppy kiss on the cheek. Aziraphale laughed and pulled away enough to look at Crowley, freezing solid.

Crowley's lips slid down his face, landing in the grass. "Are you all right, angel?" The lipless Crowley asked.

"Y-You..." Aziraphale stuttered as Crowley's eyes began to slide.

"What's the matter, dear? If there's something wrong with my face, you can just fix it."

Aziraphale tried to miracle Crowley solid again, but only succeeded in making the demon more and more of a goop. He melted into the grass like a snowman in June.

"You can fix it, can't you, angel?"

Aziraphale snapped awake, breathing heavily. He sat up, hand flying to his fluttering stomach, and he threw himself out of bed, rushing to the bathroom and trying to throw up as quietly as possible so as not to wake Crowley. Out of his mouth came not food, but golden, syrupy ichor.

'What's happening to me?' Aziraphale thought, hands shaking as he looked at his face in the mirror. He had dark circles under his eyes, his hair was a disaster and had a few silver hairs in it, and his eyes...his eyes were now a dirty grey, with no trace of blue left.

Stepping away from the mirror, he covered his face with his hands, taking a moment to collect himself before washing his hands and face and going back to bed. Before he climbed in, however, he walked over to Crowley's side, carefully inspecting his face. Lips, eyes everything there. Aziraphale ran a hand down Crowley's face, and the demon popped an eye open, squinting.

"Aziraphale? What time is it?"

"Dunno," Aziraphale admitted.

"Bad dream?" Crowley asked. Aziraphale nodded. Crowley stretched his arms out and Aziraphale fell into them, sniffling.

"I'm right here, Aziraphale. You're alright."

"I'm not," Aziraphale whispered.

"Fair," Crowley chuckled. "I don't think either of us are."

"I wish this wasn't happening. I wish we could just go back to how things were before Tadfield."

"Ouch?" Crowley said.

"Not with us, sorry. Just...all the rules. All the fighting. I was fine before."

"Are you sure? You were always uptight, even before Tadfield."

"I-I was not!"

"Yeah, you were. I think you just never realized it. Always worried about what would happen if you went against the Ineffable Plan. Always worried about Gabriel. Always worried about Her, and Falling, and me. And let's be honest. Tadfield was ungodly stressful, pun intended. So Aziraphale, under all the pressure of everything already going on, and through the stress of the Earth nearly being destroyed and nearly being killed, decides to still go to work, and keeps working until the stress cracks him like an egg. And that's BEFORE everything that's happened since then. Now, I'm aware I'm part of the problem, and I'm sorry, but if we're going to get through this, we need to help you work on your stress, or else this is just going to keep happening."

"What do you do?" Aziraphale asked. "You don't seem stressed at all considering what happened today.

"Oh, I was. I still am. But what happened happened, and the more I worry about it the more it'll hurt me, so I may as well just relax, drink some tea, and curl up with my nice cuddly angel."

"Oh Crowley, what am I going to do?"

"You're going to do your best. And you've got help. Me, Anathema, Tracy, Newton, the Them, hell, I bet even that old witch-hunter would help you if he knew how to. We're all on your side."

Crowley kissed Aziraphale's forehead. "Come here, angel. I promise I won't let you go."