Everyday it's a-gettin' closer - English Version

Being human - Paralysed

A stifling silence fell. After Nathanael had confirmed to Muriel that to suspect what she believed, no one spoke. Too insane, had been the idea for all concerned, and yet it seemed so conclusive.

How long they waited in this awkward silence, no one knew. None of the three wanted to risk a glance at the wall clock.

It was only the friendly enquiry of a middle-aged woman about Aziraphale's alias that made everyone sit up and raise their heads.

"How is he?" asked Aziraphale immediately, remaining seated after the woman's request, who then introduced herself as a doctor.

"Mister Crowley was lucky in his misfortune," the doctor began calmly, "although the blade penetrated deeply and injured the lung, we were able to act in time. A few centimetres further to the left and the lung would definitely have been pierced and then there would have been nothing we could do! But Mister Crowley is a fighter."

"Could there be any damage left?" asked Nathanael now and the doctor shook her head. "Thank God, no. However, we have now moved him directly to an intensive care room for monitoring. If you want, I can take you to see him!"

"That would be very kind," Aziraphale thanked her and the doctor led the way with her hand before running ahead.

As Aziraphale continued to talk to the doctor, Nathanael, noticed Muriel's depressed expression as they entered the ICU.

"Do you feel it too?", Muriel was nevertheless the first to speak and whispered to Nathanael. "This is the ICU Muriel," Nathanael began to explain, "life and death are very close here. That's exactly what we feel."

"In these rooms...people die?" With a sad face, Nathanael confirmed this with a nod.

"But Crowley..."

Gently, Nathanael took, Muriel's hand and squeezed lightly. "You heard the doctor, everything looks fine. As far as I know, the medical staff in an intensive care unit can monitor patients better and therefore respond more quickly. That's why people with the kind of injuries Crowley has come here!"

"Okay," Muriel muttered, stopping along with Nathaniel as the doctor ran to a door and held it open for Aziraphale.

"It looks scarier than it is," the specialist was able to interpret the hesitant movements from him, "also I must remind you that your partner is still asleep. The anaesthetic is still working. So it could be a few more hours before he wakes up!"

"Thank you for everything," Aziraphale shook the woman's hand and she took her leave with an encouraging smile.

Nevertheless, Aziraphale remained paralysed at the doorframe.

Only when Nathanael had stood beside him and gently taken his hand did he dare enter the room, where a low, steady beeping reached his ears.

Crowley was lying backwards on a bed. The headboard of the cot was slightly raised. Crowley's usually top-styled hair fell loosely into his face, whose skin was ashen. His lips had lost all colour and his eyelids were red. From the collar of the hospital shirt Crowley wore, cables protruded that were connected to the equipment standing next to the bed. There were also countless tubes. Be it to infusions, which were connected to a cannula in the back of his hand, as well as the oxygen goggles.

Crowley had been covered up to the waist. His arms were gently laid on top of it. His head almost sank into the large pillow.

After Aziraphale had taken one deep breath, he let Nathaniel take him to one side of the bed, where she placed a chair so that he could sit down. Without hesitation, Aziraphale took Crowley's hand and kissed it. He ignored the tears that were already running down his cheeks again.

"He's so cold..." he whispered, feeling Nathanael's hand on his shoulder as he saw in the corner of his eye Muriel also grab a chair and place herself on the free side of the bed.

"That's the blood loss. It will come back," reassured Nathanael, Aziraphale stroking his back. But she too felt the heaviness of her heart. There was nothing left of the cheeky, loud yet considerate demon.

Nathaniel remembered how Crowley had told her that he would feel his human shell slowly decaying and dying; a statement that now held such power.

"This is all my fault," Aziraphale finally burst into tears now, nestling Crowley's hand against his cheek, "Everything! Simply everything! I should have stood firm. I should have fought back...I should have..." His voice died.

"Don't..." whispered Muriel, affected, and Nathaniel too, now put both hands on his shoulders and squeezed. "This is not your fault," she clarified her gesture, "this is entirely the fault of this..."

Nathaniel stopped himself. She knew Aziraphale did not like it when degrading words were used.

"...We have to be there for Crowley now. This is going to be a whole new situation. For all of us. But I know we can do this together!" she changed the direction of her statement herself and gently hugged Aziraphale, who agreed with her with a slight nod.

"Sprout...I know I'm repeating myself...but, if we didn't have you..."

"...stop it," Nathaniel interrupted him immediately, "...we are friends...we are one side! It's only natural that we support each other!"

Even through the thick veil over his eyes, Aziraphale could see Muriel acknowledge Nathaniel with a gesture.

"God, I'm crying all over," Aziraphale cleared his throat and searched his pockets but found no handkerchief.

"Wait, I'll get you if you don't..."

"...No. I think I'll do the same for you and freshen up quickly in the toilet as well," Aziraphale interrupted Nathaniel and slowly disengaged from Crowley. "Besides, I'm starting to get thirsty and according to our teacher, I shouldn't ignore that!"

"I'll go with you!" decided Muriel, standing up after Aziraphale had also straightened up.

"We'll be right back," he announced and left the room together with Muriel, while Nathaniel stayed behind.

Alone in that silence, broken only by the beeping of equipment, she now stood looking at Crowley. After she paused for a moment, Nathaniel sat down in the vacant chair and took Crowley's hand.

"Now listen to me," she began slowly, "in the short time we've known each other, you are what I can call a best friend for the first time. You see me Crowley. You see me for who I really am. Without knowing much of my history. I'm careful not to put false names in your mouth that might offend you, but you're great. I never thought I'd find in a demon what I've been looking for so long. A friend I can talk to. Who accepts me for who I am. I can see now exactly why Aziraphale loves you so much."

Nathanael's voice began to tremble and her vision blurred. She cleared her throat, swallowed the tears and continued.

"Don't you dare let me die. I swear to you here and now, by all that is sacred to me, that I will give everything to see that you and Aziraphale regain your powers. I will not rest again until you can finally live the life you long for."

Although she knew nothing would happen, Nathaniel had caught herself staring expectantly at Crowley.

Chuckling slightly as she amused herself, she shook her head and massaged her forehead with her free hand.

"As if you could hear me..." she whispered softly to herself, wincing as she felt Crowley's fingers slowly curl around her hand. When she looked up into his face, her eyes were still closed.

"I'll look after you - I promise!"