Summary:

Aziraphale tends to Crowley after an accidental smiting.

Notes:

Prompts: Healing salve; heatstroke; "if my pain will stretch that far"

Prompt Used: healing salve

The definition of irony: posting this after receiving a nasty sunburn and possible sun poisoning yesterday, which is why I'm late. Still not feeling good today, but I'll try to get the next one up and get back on track.

Chapter 4: Sunburn

"Oh Crowley,dohold still. This will be done so much faster if you would stop fidgeting!"

The demon grumbled, but settled on the stool. "I wouldn'tneedto be subjected to this if you hadn't tried to roast me, angel."

The soft hands stopped, the goop they had been spreading slowly sliding across Crowley's overly sensitive skin. "My dear, I truly am sorry. I thought that you were out of range. I never would have released my grace if I'd known you were still so close."

Great, now he's feeling guilty..."Nah, angel, don't worry about it. It's the burn talking-it stings like all Heaven. Besides, at least this way your side bought the show. I'm sure you'll get a medal or something for smiting me back there," he turned slightly, satisfaction blooming as he watched Aziraphale's brow unfurrow. "What were those feathery idiots doing down here anyway?"

A swath of cool relief spread across his right shoulder as Aziraphale continued applying the burn salve. He probably could have done this himself- normally, the demon would have insisted. But when he had gone to meet Aziraphale for lunch earlier, things had gone pear-shaped fast.

He'd shown up at the meeting point, a crossroads a few miles out of town. They were coming from opposite directions, each having just finished an assignment from their respective head offices. He'd rounded the last corner and walked right into a battle.

Three angels against two demons, one of those angels being a very concerned looking Aziraphale.

They'd made eye contact, blue eyes practically shouting a warning at him to run, but it had been too late. The angel had already begun the smiting, and stopping so suddenly would have raised more than a few feathery eyebrows.

The next thing Crowley knew, he was being blasted with the outer wave of the holy blast. He felt his skin burn and blister, agony engulfing his thin frame, and immediately snapped himself away.

He had woken up to a frantic Aziraphale crouched over him. Evidently the serpent had landed in a clump of bushes off the trail on the town's edge. His skin was still smoldering slightly as Aziraphale carefully picked him up.

The next time he was aware, they were here at the inn.

The angel had of course been worried sick, and that just wouldn't do. So Crowley let him assuage his guilt by tending to the burns that covered his front.

Which, he had discovered, was completely bare. Demonically conjured clothes were apparently also susceptible to smiting. Good to know.

"It seems they had overheard rumors of demons in the area. Instead of waiting for Gabriel to send me word, they decided to take matters into their own hands. No doubt trying to impress Gabriel," Crowley watches Aziraphale roll his eyes, a rare sight that indicated just how annoyed the young angels had left him. "I am truly sorry, Crowley. I was hoping the matter would be settled before you arrived, but I had to put those two in their place before they got themselves discorporated or worse. I will certainly have a few words with Gabriel about them in my next report."

Crowley winced as soft hands crossed a particularly sensitive spot by his collarbone. "No one mentioned demons up here either, so I guess we'll both have some words for our bosses."

Aziraphale finished applying the salve a few moments later. It was unfortunate the Grace burns couldn't be healed with a miracle, but at least they didn't sting as much. They'd figured out early on that miricaling the salve did help, at least. He'd be healed up in a few days.

Crowley snapped, giving another wince as the reddened skin rubbed. He was suddenly clothed in similar robes as he had been before, but the material was a lighter linen and less likely to irritate his burns.

"It might not be a good idea to grab that spot of lunch now, angel. Perhaps we should take a rain check?"

He adjusted his glasses and cast a glance at the angel, who was sporting a sheepish grin.

"I was thinking you should rest a little more first, dear. While I was waiting for you to wake up, I had the lovely girl downstairs bring us up something. She was also kind enough to find a bottle, if you are interested?"

Crowley's answer was a wide grin of his own. It stung a bit as it stretched the burnt skin, but in that moment he didn't care.

"Then lunch it is, angel."