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Ethereal and Occult Beings Don’t Get Sick
This story takes place during the influenza pandemic of 1918
Hope you enjoy!
“Angel?” Crowley called out into the emptiness of the bookstore. The demon hadn’t seen his companion in a while, mostly due to the whole “holy water” debacle, but the demon had pouted enough (as well as taken a decent 50 year long nap) and was feeling a bit lonely and reminiscent. He was eager to catch up with the angel over some lunch, whatever Aziraphale was in the mood for, of course. The stillness and somewhat staleness of the book shop didn’t feel right. Crowley tasted the air. Something tasted sour. What is that?
“Angel?” he called out again as he strode through the dusty bookshop toward the back room. As Crowley reached the doorway, to what could have been referred to as the demon’s most favorite spot in all of creation, he froze. Crowley tore off his glasses and blinked his golden serpent eyes numerous times. Was he seeing this right? Aziraphale, who NEVER slept, was lying on the couch in his back room. His eyes were closed and he appeared to be shivering and sweating. As Crowley crept closer, he could hear the angel wheezing and the sour smell grew stronger in the air. The angel suddenly let out a deep, hoarse, rattling cough that took the demon by surprise and he nearly had to peel himself from the ceiling, which in turn startled the sleeping angel, who now stared at the demon with surprise and attempted to sit up.
“Oh! D-D-Dear B-B-Boy!” he rasped, still shivering. “I d-d-didn’t know you were h-h-here.” Aziraphale winced in his attempt to sit upright. He grasped the back of the couch and strived to pull himself up, but through all of his best efforts, failed and allowed his head to thump back against the arm of the couch. The angel cringed and sucked in a deep breath, which sent him reeling into a harsh coughing fit.
“Angel!” Crowley exclaimed. “What in the heaven has happened to you?” The angel drew a ragged breath and looked back at the demon. His face was flushed and he was sweating profusely.
“‘M fine Dear Boy. Just… a little cough. In a few… days… I’ll be right as rain. Simply… tickety-boo. Just… need a little kip is all.” The angel’s shivering was no longer as intense, but his breathing was stridulent.
“Angel, ethereal and occult beings do not get sick. Now, what in Satan’s name has happened to you?” Crowley hadn’t really meant to growl that last sentence, but he was growing in concern for his friend. Is this a curse? He scrolled through a list of miscreants in his mind that could be capable of such a thing. Whoever it was, he’d see them pay for tainting his angel. The demon reached out and touched the angel’s forehead, it was hotter than hellfire. Aziraphale was, of course, still fully dressed in his coat, waistcoat, even his bloody damn shoes were still on. He was covered with a thin, cream-colored crocheted blanket.
The angel sighed. “I’ve been reprimanded again for using too many frivolous miracles. Gabriel decided to take away my angelic abilities for 30 days as punishment.” Crowley rolled his eyes and gritted his teeth. Stupid fucking Gabriel! I oughta clip that wanker’s wings for this!
“It wasn’t so bad at first, really, but a few days ago a young lady came in with her youngster and the poor child was sneezing, coughing and wiping his hands everywhere!” the angel grimaced at the memory. “I handed him my handkerchief and the little bugger must’ve passed his ailment on to me.” Aziraphale sniffled and shivered a bit more. “Anyway, I only have another fortnight to go until my powers will be restored and I can miracle myself well again. No need to worry dear boy.” The angel closed his eyes and wheezed.
Oh angel! You’ll discorporate before then! The demon reached over and stroked his companion’s forehead and said companion leaned into the touch as much as he could and sighed a little, almost contentedly. Crowley began reviewing his options in his head. One, he could simply miracle the angel well and possibly put a secondary miracle in place to keep him well for the next two weeks, but that would be two miracles that were bound to draw some attention from his head office and possibly the angel’s head office as well. Two, he could stay with the angel and nurse him back to health using only little minor miracles along the way that would not likely attract so much attention from upstairs or downstairs. Or, option three, he could simply leave, go about his business and allow Aziraphale to discorporate and get the full extent of Gabriel’s punishment. The angel shook heavily with another deep coughing spasm. Aziraphale whimpered slightly and shivered. Crowley bit his lip with defeat.
The demon stood and shucked off his black outer coat and grey waistcoat into a nearby chair. He rolled up his long, black sleeves and discarded his charcoal tie. He found a cloth and wet it in cold water and placed it on the angel’s forehead. He then ascended the stairs to survey the flat above. There was a bedroom, with an actual bed to Crowley’s surprise. There was also a bedside table with a lamp and a reading chair. He folded back the subtle blue quilt and sheet on the bed and fluffed the pillow. This’ll be a sight more comfortable than that Satan forsaken couch. He bustled back down the stairs for his patient. Aziraphale lay on the couch fairly motionless at this point. At least the chills seemed to have subsided. The once moist cloth on his forehead was now dry and warm. The demon moved the small thin blanket and looked at the fully dressed angel. He hated the thought of his friend being uncomfortable, so with the snap of his fingers, the angel was now dressed in soft tartan jim jams and his regular clothes found themselves neatly put away in the closet upstairs, shoes and all. Crowley reached down and gingerly picked up the sleeping angel, bracing under his knees and back, and started for the stairs. Aziraphale whimpered a little at the sudden movement, but sighed almost pleasantly when his head lolled over and rested on Crowley’s chest. The demon felt his heart ache slightly at the sight and the contact. Oh, how he loved his angel and had truly missed him over the years. He felt the urge to kiss the angel’s cheek, but pushed the thought away. Aziraphale needed him.
Once in the bedroom, he tucked the angel into bed. Aziraphale was still feverish. Crowley was going to have to do something about that. He wet the cloth in cold water again and placed it on the sick angel’s forehead. “I’ll be right back angel.” Crowley whispered. The demon replaced his overcoat and went out to the local apothecary.
“May I help you there sir?” a very tired and busy chemist asked as Crowley entered the small store.
“Ummm… yes. I have a friend that is sick. Coughing, wheezing, fever, shaking uncontrollably, sweating…”
“Ah!” the chemist interrupted. “Seems your friend has fallen ill to La Grippe. Sorry, there’s no cure. You should really stay away from him as it is terribly contagious. Don’t wanna get yourself infected”
Crowley stared at the man in white for a moment. “Now you listen to me.” the demon began in a dark menacing tone. “My friend is very dear to me and I’ll not have you stand there and tell me that there is nothing that can be done!”
The chemist held up his hands and backed away from the seething being in front of him. “Look, there is no cure, however, you can treat his symptoms. Give him aspirin for fever and pain; instructions are on the bottle. Try to keep him cooled off until the fever breaks. Once the fever breaks, he will be thoroughly soaked in sweat. When that happens, get him dry and comfortable as soon as possible.”
Crowley bought a bottle of aspirin and turned to leave.
“Be sure to prop the dear chap up in bed.” the chemist warned. “Don’t let him stay flat on his back. Been hearing of people dying because of the fluid build up in their chest.” Crowley nodded and rushed back to his dear angel.
When the demon entered the bedroom, the angel was in the throes of a terrible coughing fit. His lips were a bluish hue and he was flailing his arms about and gasping for breath. Crowley sat on the edge of the bed; he leaned the angel against his chest with his head over his shoulder and slapped his back firmly. The angel coughed hard enough that a thick wad of green mucus flew out of his mouth and onto the quilt, and partially onto Crowley’s back. The demon snapped his fingers and the mess was gone.
“Oh!” the angel panted. “Thank you, My Dear. So sorry about that.”
“‘S fine.” Crowley muttered, trying to keep the worry out of his tone of voice. “Got you some aspirin for the fever and aches and pains. The chemist said to prop you upright to keep you from choking and drowning in… well that.”
Aziraphale feebly shook his head in understanding.
“Make you some tea?” the demon offered.
The angel nodded again. After ensuring his friend was propped up properly, Crowley made his way to the small kitchenette in the flat. He put the kettle on and made a cup of chamomile tea for the angel and poured a small glass of scotch for himself. Upon returning to the bedroom, the angel had slightly dozed off again. His damp curls were stuck to his forehead and his face was reddened with heat. Crowley perched again on the side of the bed.
“Angel?”
Aziraphale groggily opened his eyes.
“Drink.” Crowley held the cup to the angel’s parched lips as he sipped some tea. “Take two of these.” the demon instructed and place two of aspirin tablets in the angel’s mouth and then place the cup back to Aziraphale’s lips. After the tablets were swallowed, Crowley sat looking at his angel for a moment.
“Dear Boy,” his friend softly murmured. “Don’t worry.” He reached out and placed his hand over the demon’s hand.
Crowley looked away, blinking back the tears that were threatening to fall. Aziraphale was the only true constant in his life that mattered. Losing him would be like Crowley losing a part of himself. If he discorporates, would they allow him to come back? Crowley turned his hand over and closed his fingers around Aziraphale’s hand and stroked it with his thumb. Best not to think on that right now.
The angel was in and out of sleep until nightfall. Crowley would offer sips of tea and hold a handkerchief over the angel’s mouth as he coughed up more green phlegm. Sometime after darkness fell, a bit knackered from worry, the demon curled up to sleep, slithered up against his angel so that the slightest movement would wake him.
Crowley awoke with a shudder. He wasn’t sure how long they’d been sleeping, but it was now daylight outside. He inspected the angel next to him, who was currently soaked in sweat and shivering almost violently.
“D-D-Dear B-B-Boy,” Aziraphale managed between jittering jaws and chattering teeth.
The demon rubbed his hands through the damp, golden curls. At least he isn’t burning up anymore.
“Shhh…” Crowley soothed. “Let’s get you clean and dry angel. How do you feel? Do you think you can stand?”
Aziraphale nodded affirmatively.
The demon stood by the side of the bed and helped his companion slide his legs to hang off the bed. The angel’s teeth were still clacking together noisily. Just need to get him clean, dry, and warm.
“Ready?”
The angel nodded.
Crowley stood in front of him and had Aziraphale brace himself with his hands on the demon’s shoulders. Aziraphale stood and almost instantly crumpled to the floor, or would have had the demon not grabbed the angel around his waist. The angel looked into Crowley’s eyes, his own blue eyes wide as saucers, but said nothing.
“Angel, wrap your arms around my neck, yeah? And hold on. Think you can do that?”
Aziraphale continued his wide-eyed stare.
“Aziraphale.” Crowley said sternly. “We have to get you clean and dry, yes?”
The angel nodded.
“You cannot stand on your own, let alone walk. If you hold on around my neck, I am going to lift you and carry you into the bathroom, alright?”
Another nod.
“Good. Now, hold on.”
The angel obeyed and Crowley scooped the angel up and once again into his arms, bracing under his knees and behind his back. Aziraphale sniffled and groaned a little in pain. The demon bit back more tears.
“Am I hurting you badly?” he asked gently.
The angel shook his head, no.
Once in the washroom, Crowley took a deep breath. How the heaven am I gonna do this? He managed to snap his fingers and fill the white porcelain tub with warm water.
“Angel, I’m going to put your feet down. You continue holding tight around my neck and I will hold onto your waist while I get you… undressed.”
The angel’s grip tightened and he felt his whole body tense up.
“Aziraphale, listen, I’m not going to pay any attention to anything. I just want to help you, ok?” The angel nodded.
The minute his companion’s feet touched the floor, Crowley firmly grasped his waist, to keep the weak angel from hitting the floor. Bugger! Can’t snap! Shit!
“Ok angel, gonna have to move my arms up underneath your arms to make this workable, ‘k?” Nod.
Crowley braced him under his arms and quickly snapped. The angel shuddered harder for a moment as the cold air hit him, then Crowley eased him over the edge of the tub into the warm water. Once Aziraphale was safely inside the tub, the demon sat on the floor with his back against the tub and released a deep exhale of relief.
“Whew! Alright angel, you take care of washing you, I’ll wash your hair. The sooner we get done, the sooner we can get you dry, dressed, and back in bed.”
Aziraphale did as he was told and Crowley crawled around behind the tub and began washing the angel’s hair. Crowley chuckled slightly to himself. How many times had he thought about doing just this? Not with Aziraphale being sick, just bathing the angel; pampering him. The angel was a creature of comfort as is, and the demon loved nothing more than to give him what he wanted.
“Th-th-thank you, Cr-Cr-Crowley.”
Crowley was thankful that the angel couldn’t see the huge smile on his face. “Think nothing of it, angel. You’d do the same for me.” He cleared his throat, worrying that he’d sounded too sentimental. “Besides part of the Arrangement and all.”
Once the angel was rinsed, Crowley miracled the tub empty of water and retrieved a fluffy white towel for the angel to dry with. The demon also grabbed an undershirt and underpants for the angel to put on and put fresh bed clothes on the bed. He carried the only slightly less shivering angel back to bed and tucked him in. Both the ethereal and occult beings were fatigued. Crowley sat on the edge of the bed.
“Tea?”
“P-p-please.”
Crowley made two cups of tea and sat them on the bedside table. Though the angel’s shivering was improving, the demon helped guide the cup to Aziraphale’s lips to avoid spills.
“At least your fever seems to have gone.”
Aziraphale nodded.
“How l-l-long did I s-s-sleep?”
Crowley shrugged. “A day, I guess. Honestly, I fell asleep too.”
The angel smiled and Crowley’s heart swelled. “Drink your tea, angel. Are you hungry?” For the first time in all the millenia he’d known the angel, Aziraphale frowned at the mention of food.
“Hell on earth, angel!” the demon half chuckled. “Never thought I’d see the day you would turn down a snack!”
“Feel so… tired.” he muttered.
“Well, you do need to rest in order to get better. Go to sleep, angel. ‘M not going anywhere.”
Aziraphale grinned slightly as he closed his eyes. Crowley sighed and watched his angel sleep. “I love you, angel.” he whispered soft and quiet. He leaned in and gently kissed his blonde curls. Crowley stretched and then lay down with his back pressed against Aziraphale, and he drifted off to sleep himself.
The angel coughed off and on throughout the night. Crowley fixed several cups of tea and occasionally rubbed Aziraphale’s sore back as he coughed up more green goo. The shivering had subsided, but the angel began feeling a bit feverish again. Crowley made him take more aspirin and remained ever present at his angel’s side. Night turned into morning, which faded once again into night. Crowley thought of all the different possible ways to torture Gabriel for his bullshit punishment. Please get better angel. Please.
During the fourth night, Crowley woke with a start. “Angel?”
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to disturb you, Dear Boy”
“‘S fine.” the demon replied groggily. “Need something?”
Aziraphale made a small grin. “I do believe I’m feeling a bit peckish.”
Crowley grinned back. “I’ll get you anything you want, angel.”
Aziraphale’s grin widened into a smile. “My Dear, you’ve done so much already.”
Crowley raised a hand. “Aziraphale, it’s all part of The Arrangement.”
The angel’s smile began to fade.
“And, it’s what friends do.” Crowley added.
Aziraphale looked back at the demon. “Some toast and jam would be lovely.”
Crowley watched his angel eat the toast and jam as he sipped some more tea. He silently hoped that his friend was finally on the mend. When he finished his toast, Aziraphale asked if Crowley would mind bringing him a few books to read. The demon was more than happy to oblige, but made a small fuss about not being the angel’s bloody servant. It made the angel grin once again, which is all that mattered to Crowley. The angel read a few hours, then kipped off a few hours. Crowley tried to sleep when the angel slept, staying on the edge of the angel’s bed. That night, Aziraphale slept all night with very little coughing, no chills, and no fever. The next morning, he asked to go down into the bookshop.
“Crowley, I have simply got to get out of this bed! I’ve been in it for days!”
“I bloody know you have angel! How the heaven do you think you got up here?” the demon grumbled.
Aziraphale stopped and thought for a moment. He really hadn’t given much thought to how he’d gotten upstairs into bed. Then, he remembered Crowley carrying him into the washroom and washing his hair. The angel began to blush and his eyes widened.
“What’s the matter?” Crowley inquired, puzzled by the angel’s sudden change of expression.
“You… you washed my hair.”
Crowley stiffened.
“You undressed me; dressed me!” he looked at the demon in horror.
“I didn’t look at anything angel, I swear.” Crowley insisted and held both hands up as though to prove his innocence.
The angel relaxed a bit. Crowley had carried him upstairs to his bed; carried him to the washroom and helped him get clean and dry. Crowley had cared for him. Aziraphale felt as though his heart would burst. He looked at his friend and cautiously reached out and took one of the demon’s raised hands into his own.
“You took care of me.”
Crowley looked away. He couldn’t look into the angel’s eyes without giving himself away any more than he already had.
“Even after our fight.” the angel all but whispered.
Crowley sighed and looked back at the angel and into his vast blue eyes. He grasped his hand more firmly.
“Aziraphale, that was 50 some odd years ago. Yes, we got upset with one another. Yes, we stopped talking for a bit.” Yes, I took a half a century nap. “Angel, we’re friends. We’ve known each other since Eden. We have been the one constant in each other’s lives since, hence the start of The Arrangement. Friends have spats, but they are nothing more than that. I have no doubt that had the shoe been on the other foot, you’d have done the same for me. It is simply what friends do.”
Aziraphale could feel his heart thudding loudly in his ears. Crowley’s hand was so firm and warm around his. Crowley was his friend. Demon or not, there was enough goodness in Crowley that he wouldn’t let the angel discorporate. Crowley feared losing him. Crowley, despite the fact that he wasn’t supposed to be capable, loved Aziraphale. The angel took a deep breath and kissed Crowley. It was a simple press of his lips to the demon’s cheek. Crowley, quite stunned, felt his heart race. He leaned forward and pressed his own gentle kiss onto the angel’s forehead. Though Crowley truly wanted nothing more than to ravage the angel’s lips and embrace him, now was not the time. Aziraphale was recovering from illness. There will be a time for that in the future , Crowley promised himself.
“Come on, angel. Let’s get you dressed and down to your bookshop.”
The angel and demon smiled at each other; a silent ‘I love you.’
Once Aziraphale was dressed in a shirt, slacks, and socks, Crowley helped the angel to his feet and walk to the stairs, his arm around the angel’s waist and the angel’s arm around the demon’s neck.
“Ready, angel?” Aziraphale nodded.
They made it to the bottom, one step at a time. Once he had his angel parked safely on the couch and covered in the thin crocheted blanket, Crowley went around the shop and fetched some books for Aziraphale to read and piled them on the table in front of him. The demon then made them each a fresh cup of tea and toast and jam for his recovering angel.
Later that night, the angel was still free of fever and chills and his cough was minimal, but he didn’t argue when Crowley ushered him up to bed. The trip up the stairs was tiring, but doable. After Crowley tucked the angel into bed once more, he sat on the edge of the edge of the bed and looked at his angel.
“Well, you definitely seem to be doing much better.”
“Thanks to you.” Aziraphale said with a smile. The demon smiled back slightly and cleared his throat.
“I ummm… I can stay again tonight, if you want, just to be sure you don’t, uh, need anything or… you know, take a turn for the worst…”
Aziraphale nodded. “Yes, I’d ummm… well, I wouldn’t mind your company for another night.” Crowley couldn’t help but smile lovingly at his angel. He went to lie along the edge of the bed again, when Aziraphale cleared his throat.
“My Dear,” he began cautiously. “Would you mind too terribly sitting up here, with me?”
Crowley’s mouth suddenly went dry. He nodded and sat up snuggled close to his angel, sharing the same pillow. Aziraphale lay his head on the demon’s chest and the demon put his arm around his angel and as he drifted off to sleep, he thought to himself, I could get used to this.
The next morning, Aziraphale woke Crowley when he yawned and stretched.
“Sorry, My Dear. Didn’t mean to bother you.”
“‘S alright angel.” the demon yawned.
Once down into the shop, much easier this morning than yesterday, the two drank some tea and Aziraphale ate some breakfast. Crowley watched his angel eat as he slowly sipped his tea. Crowley stood and hesitated.
“Its, uh, been a good solid week since I did any temptations.”
The angel looked up from the book he’d started reading.
“I, uh, just don’t want downstairs to get suspicious or anything.”
“No. Of course not.” Aziraphale responded, trying not to sound too disappointed.
“I’ll be back to check in on you, though.” Crowley promised.
“I’ll be quite alright, Dear Boy.” The angel put on a thin smile.
“No opening the bloody shop!” the demon warned sternly as he put on his tie, waistcoat, coat, and shoes.
To that, the angel rolled his eyes and smiled more sincerely. “Of course not. Wouldn’t dream of it until this,” he waved a hand about, “Whatever this is, is over.”
Crowley put on his glasses and grinned. “Good. I’ll be seeing you soon, angel.” He began his strut toward the door, then ducked his head back into the back room and lowered his glasses to look at his angel. “And, Aziraphale?”
“Yes?”
“Try not to lose your angelic powers as soon as you get them back.”
Aziraphale tsked. “Oh, you wily old serpent! Get out of my shop you foul fiend!”
Crowley smiled and left, knowing he’d be back very soon to check in on his angel.
The End
This story is dedicated to Sevynlira. My Dear, I would never have done this without your help and encouragement. Thank you.