Today Crowley upset his angel very, very much.
It had seemed so simple. The climbing roses at the top of the trellis looked tangled and in need of a quick prune. So, naturally, Crowley climbed the trellis with secateurs in hand. Was it his fault that hidden dry rot had made it unstable at the very top? Surely not.
In any event, just as he’d reached the offending flowers, he heard an ominous crack and found himself tumbling back down. He braced for impact only to feel instead a great whoosh of air as Aziraphale flung himself between Crowley and the ground to break his fall, knocking the wind clear out of himself in the process.
In retrospect, it was a poor time for a joke.
Aziraphale first yelled at his ‘careless, reckless Husband,’ and then burst into rib cracking sobs and fled inside. Crowley was so shocked, it was all he could do to hold his Husband and wait for his sobs to abate to the point where speech was possible.
Aziraphale, most agitated, made several undeniably persuasive points:
1. Now that they were officially retired, discorporation was a far from trivial matter. Who knew what it would take to be issued a body if they lost these now?
2. There had been too many times over the last 6000 years that Aziraphale had faced the prospect of an eternity without his demon. His nerves were shot and he very much needed his Husband to take that and his own safety seriously.
3. Their miracles weren’t monitored anymore, nor could they be seen in their garden. Why didn’t he just fly up to see to the blasted things?!
Crowley’s heart ached to see his Husband so distressed, and knowing he was the cause of it was a special kind of torture not seen in even the deepest pits of hell. He had known as an abstract matter that they both had some long simmering pains to address, but it was quite a thing to slam face first into one of his Husband’s greatest fears.
So, plans changed for the day.
Today Crowley made copious amounts of tea, apologized profusely, dispensed myriad kisses and nuzzles, and spent hours discussing what would reassure his Husband—what he could do to avoid scaring him so terribly in the future. He also promised to consider what things Aziraphale could do to reassure him, too.
Eventually, they ended up on the couch with a fire, wine, and Mrs. H providing her own feline comfort. Not much later Aziraphale was relaxed enough to be delighted by her antics, and Crowley decided he could stand down a bit.
It would take some time to really internalize the fact that, in order to best care for his Husband, he’d have to start caring for his own wellbeing more diligently. He’d figure it out, though.
His Husband’s heart had been placed in his hands for safekeeping. Nothing, not even his own ingrained habits, would get in the way of his life’s purpose now.
