Well, That Was A Thing (Good Omens One-Shots)

38; Stop To Breathe

Context: I just realized I hadn't done a fic immediately after they get on the bus to go to Crowley's flat. Had to fix that.

In which an angel and a demon finally let themselves feel everything they've been repressing for the past week. (And 6,000 years.)

Word Count: 3,000

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The pair boarded the bus, nodding to the driver before taking their seats. Crowley sat closer to the window, looking as tired as he felt. Aziraphale could practically feel the exhaustion radiating from him. He wanted to say many things. To thank him for everything. But this wasn't the time, nor place. Even so, he wanted the demon to know he appreciated him. So he took his hand and interlaced their fingers.

Crowley tensed up, but didn't dare move, out of fear Aziraphale would remove his hand. Unfortunately, before he could stop himself, he squeezed the angel's hand. Just as he was about to curse at himself, he felt Aziraphale squeeze him back. With that, the demon looked up to the blond. Even with his shades on, Aziraphale could tell those eyes were asking him if this was alright. If this was safe. 6,000 years of not touching can make one very paranoid, after all.

The angel nodded, releasing just a little bit of grace through his fingertips. That did it. As if Crowley wasn't already having a hard time staying up, his eyelids suddenly felt like they weighed a ton.

"Rest, dear boy. I'll wake you when we get there." Said the angel in a featherlight tone.

"Angel, I can-"

"Don't worry, Crowley. Nothing will happen so long as I'm watching over you."

And it could have been his exhausted mind playing tricks on him, but Crowley could've sworn he felt Aziraphale cover him with his wing, just like he had back in Eden.

~~~~~

The demon didn't remember waking up to get off the bus, or getting into the elevator, or even entering his flat. Hence why he was very confused to be waking up in his bed. Had he been in his pajamas, he would've assumed the last few days hadn't happened. But he was still in the same singed garments (sans sunglasses) from the burning Bentley, so he knew this wasn't the case. Needless to say, he was confused.

He sat up, looked around and snapped the bedroom lights on.

"Aziraphale?" He called.

He waited. No response. That was enough to send him bolting into the next room. Crowley searched the whole flat and didn't find Aziraphale. He was on the verge of panicking until he went up to the roof, where he found the angel, wings out, sitting on the edge of the building.

"Angel, what are you doing up here?"

Aziraphale jumped and turned around. "You're already awake? I was sure you'd be out until morning."

"If I lie down again, I might stay out for a few more days." Admitted the demon.

"Not surprising. You really were exhausted."

Crowley nodded. "Still am. Although, I've never had any memory problems as a result of that. So, why can't I remember getting off the bus?"

"I didn't have the heart to wake you up when we got here."

"So, you miracle'd me into bed?" He asked as he walked towards Aziraphale.

"I considered it. But then I thought it would be safer if we didn't use miracles for a while. At least, until we figure out what this last prophecy means."