"Oh my," Aziraphale said, looking out the bookshop's window.
"What?" Crowley asked.
He was sprawled on the couch, looking at something on his phone. When Aziraphale had asked, the demon had said something about social media, bridge dwelling creatures and cells. To be honest, Aziraphale wasn't quite sure but he expected it meant Crowley was fomenting discord.
"It's simply pouring," Aziraphale said.
"Yea?" Crowley asked. "Isn't that good? Less people on the streets, less customers coming in and trying to buy your precious books."
Aziraphale hummed.
"True, but people might come in looking for shelter from the rain."
Crowley wanted to say something about how Aziraphale was good at sheltering beings from the rain, but he didn't. The demon had a feeling that the sheltering was specific to him. He also had a feeling, based on the small smile that Aziraphale was giving him, that the angel had an inkling of what he was thinking.
"Can't let you shelter just anyone, can we?" he smirked.
Then Crowley stood and walked to the shop door, flicked the sign over to 'closed' and locked the door.
"Now, Angel," he stretched, "What are your plans for the rest of the day?"
Aziraphale straightened out his waistcoat and gave a happy wiggle.
"I think this weather is simply perfect for a good pot of tea and a book."
Crowley raised an eyebrow.
"You would say that about any weather, Angel," he said, not unkindly.
Aziraphale just smiled.
"Well, what will you do, my dear?" he asked.
Crowley thought about it for a bit. He didn't read, so he wasn't going to join his angel in the literary pursuit. He could continue to scroll through his phone, but that had reached the level of absolute boredom about five minutes before Aziraphale had spoken. He contemplated asking the angel to read to him, but knew that would only result in him falling asleep.
"I think I might take a nap," he announced. "Perfect weather for a nap, this."
"Well, dear. There is a lovely bed upstairs, or you could take a nap here on the couch," Aziraphale said.
"Hmm, bed sounds good," he said. "But only if you come up too."
Crowley felt the heat flush up his face at the admission, glad that he still had his sunglasses on. However, Aziraphale grinned brightly.
"Whatever you want, dear."
The rain was still pouring down outside and Aziraphale was settled comfortable on one side of the bed. His back rested against the headboard, a tartan blanket over his lap and 'Pride and Prejudice' in his hands on top of the blanket. Beside him the demon was sprawled out under the covers, snoring softly with his head rested on a pillow that was very surprised to find itself suddenly black.
As he carefully turned a page, Aziraphale heard a sound. It seemed like a quiet whimper. The angel carefully placed a book mark between the pages of the book and then put it on the bedside table. Instead, he turned his full attention to the being still sleeping beside him.
Once more, Crowley made a small sound and shifted in his sleep. His brow furrowed and Aziraphale could see his eyes moving beneath his eyelids.
Then, Crowley screamed.
Aziraphale jerked back in shock, pulling back the hand that had been reaching out to touch Crowley.
"No, don't!" Crowley pleaded, thrashing in the sheets. "Leave me alone. Leave me alone. Leave me ALONE!"
He was moving frantically, twisting under the covers so much that the sheets were tangling around him. Aziraphale, only wanting to help, reached out to untangle him, but when his fingers brushed Crowley's skin the demon bolted upright. Wide yellow snake eyes turned to look at him and Crowley snarled.
"Don't touch me!" he hissed. "Keep away from me. Keep your handssss off me."
Aziraphale quickly pulled his hand back.
"Oh my dear!" Aziraphale called out. "Oh Crowley. It's me."
" 'Sssss not. Ssstop your trickssssss."
The demon's voice turned more to snake like hissing in his distress.
"Crowley," Aziraphale said again. "Crowley! It's Aziraphale. You're in the bookshop. My bookshop."
He kept repeating things like that until Crowley's breathing started to slow. He blinked a few times and finally focussed properly on Aziraphale.
"Angel?"
"I'm here. I'm here, Crowley," the angel said soothingly.
"You're really here?"
"Yes. Really here. You're in the bookshop."
The demon sighed and slumped against the bedhead.
"Are you…alright, dear?" Aziraphale asked tentatively.
Crowley considered lying and telling the angel that he was perfectly fine, but he didn't think that Aziraphale would believe him. For all that the angel looked like a harmless and slightly out of touch professor, he was incredibly perceptive. And honestly, with the yelling that he had done, even the lowest demon in hell wold be able to tell that Crowley wasn't okay.
"Not really, Angel," he admitted. "Hell doesn't exactly send rude notes."
"Oh, Crowley," Aziraphale cried. "It wasn't because of me, was it?"
Crowley shook his head, eyes closed and head bowed.
"Nah, they just sometimes didn't think I was doing enough on Earth," he admitted. "And they'd punish me for my bad performance. A couple of years down in the seventh circle before they'd let me out again."
Aziraphale looked close to tears when Crowley cracked his eyes open and chanced a look.
"So all those times that I thought you were taking a decade long nap…?" Aziraphale asked softly.
"All that time you were Down there?"
"Not all the time, not every time," Crowley promised. "There were times that I really was just sleeping."
"But other times?"
"Ngk. Yea," Crowley sighed. "A few of those times I was in Hell. Or, I spent a few years in Hell and a few more… recovering."
"Oh, my dear," Aziraphale gasped. "What did they do to you?"
"I'd rather not go into it, if it's all the same to you."
"Yes, right, of course," Aziraphale said hurriedly. "You don't need to tell me if you don't want to."
Crowley rested against the headboard, long legs stretched out in front of him. Next to him, Aziraphale sat quietly, watching his demon. He wouldn't push Crowley to talk, but he did want the demon to know that he was there if he ever needed to talk about it all. He had never been more glad that neither of them were associated with their respective sides anymore.
"I think I need a drink," Crowley said suddenly.
He pushed himself to his feet. Unfortunately the demon's feet were still wrapped in the blankets and as he stood it tripped him. Luckily for him, Aziraphale was quicker on his feet and was right by him, catching him before he could actually fall.
"Thanks," Crowley said.
They quietly walked downstairs and to the kitchen. Once there, Crowley immediately reached for the cupboard where the wine glasses were kept.
"Are you sure that's wise, dear?" Aziraphale asked.
"Probably not," Crowley agreed, but he still grabbed a glass.
"Why not have a nice cup tea, instead?" Aziraphale asked.
"Aaangel," Crowley whined.
"I really don't think you should be drinking alcohol right now," Aziraphale repeated.
" 'S what I normally do," Crowley shrugged. "Wake up screaming, get up, drink a bottle or two of red and just… try to forget."
Aziraphale frowned disapprovingly.
"But you aren't alone this time," he said. "I'm here."
Aziraphale sighed.
"Let me make you a nice cup of hot cocoa, put a soothing record on and we can go out and sit on the couch," he offered.
Crowley looked at Aziraphale. Looked at his wide, hopeful eyes and the small smile. The light behind the angel made his fluffly blond hair look like the halo that Crowley knew was hiding on a different plane.
"Alright, angel," Crowley conceded. "Hot cocoa and a record."
"And a cuddle on the couch?"
"Fine," he said. He wanted to sound begrudging but really he sounded relieved.
"Go get yourself settled. I'll be right there, my dear."
Aziraphale shooed him out of the kitchen and Crowley went and settled himself on the couch, wrapping the blanket around him. The blanket smelt of tea and old books and sweet cake, so basically it smelt like his angel.
When Aziraphale walked into the room, a cup of cocoa in each hand, he found Crowley wrapped in the blanket on the couch. Only he was slumped sideways, taking up the couch and fast asleep.
"Oh my dear, sleep well," Aziraphale said quietly.
He placed Crowley's cup on the table next to the couch and gave it a stern look. The cocoa knew better than to go cold before the demon had a chance to drink it. Then Aziraphale took a seat opposite to watch over his demon's sleep. He cast a miracle to get the book from upstairs. And if he cast another miracle to ensure Crowley's peaceful sleep, then surely no one would notice.
The angel settled into the chair, book in one hand and cocoa in the other.
Outside, the rain kept falling.