There Will Come a Day: A Good Omens Fanfic

Many moons he fought

"I don't see how you can get seasick, my dear boy," Aziraphale said in exasperation, patting gently at Crowley's forehead with a damp towel as he sat on the edge of the bed. "You're a demon."

"Ever seen a snake on a ship?"

"I suppose not. But can't you just miracle the nausea away?"

"I don't feel well enough to do magic," Crowley said pathetically. He clung to Aziraphale's arm as the ship crested a wave and plummeted again. "The rising bits are almost the worst," he whined, "because they feel okay, and then I'm just waiting to drop again... Do you think you could heal me?"

"Have you gone quite mad? I have no idea what would happen if I blessed you. I might set you on fire, my dear."

"Promises, promises."

Aziraphale looked suspiciously at him, but Crowley was looking not so much innocent, as very, very ill, which he supposed was the same thing. His skin was even paler than usual, with a worrying grey tinge, and not all the wetness on his forehead was from the towel. Aziraphale was stricken by compunction. Maybe he was being too sharp. He used his free hand, the one on the arm Crowley wasn't clinging to like a miserable limpet, to gently stroke hair back from Crowley's forehead.

"That's more like proper sympathy. People do die of seasickness, you know." Crowley wrapped both arms around Aziraphale's and buried his face against his sleeve. "Would you miss me?"

"Don't be so melodramatic. You are not actually capable of becoming dehydrated, let alone discorporating from it. Do you want some brandy? I think that's a traditional remedy."

"Yes." Crowley brightened a little at the thought of alcohol, and released his death grip. Aziraphale poured him a double shot of what had been barley water until he poured it, and then some for himself for good measure. It had been a bit of a shock that the liner had been registered in the Unites States, and was therefore under Prohibition law. Aziraphale reassured himself that the healing properties of brandy outweighed a tiny sin like breaking the law.

"There you go, dear," he said with more tenderness than he meant to admit to, holding the aromatic liquid to Crowley's lips. He put his free arm around Crowley's shoulder, holding him into a sitting position, and allowing the demon to lean into the embrace."Try to hold it down, I rather like this berth, and I don't fancy telling Gabriel I needed to miracle away demonic vomit from my bed."

Crowley snickered, and gave Aziraphale such an unabashedly warm look that Aziraphale's suspicions transformed into certainty.

"Crowley. You are deliberately making yourself sick so I will fuss over you, aren't you?"

The side of Crowley's mouth slid up.

"My dear fellow! That is really not playing fair." Aziraphale removed the encircling arm.

"Neither is spending half your time in the ship's chapel dispensing godly advice, darling. You know I can't follow you in there without causing a scene." Crowley sat straight, his colour returning, and took the glass himself. His eyes sparkled over the rim. "This is quite literally heavenly stuff. Effected a miraculous cure."

"I am so glad," Aziraphale said coldly. "Now, I believe Miss Violet and Miss Magda reserved my company for a game of quoits on the upper deck. I'm late."

"Can I play?"

"No. You can stay here and reflect on the error of your ways."

"I'm a demon. My ways are supposed to be in error. How about you? You didn't even attempt to kiss me better, you ten minute egg. So much for angelic kindness."