Please talk to me about Crowley passing out/almost passing out but pretending he's fine
Crowley will pretend that heâs okay as he begins to feel lightheaded in the garden. Aziraphale will ask if he feels okay, noticing that he looks a bit pale. Crowley manages to brush it off pretty well until he grows dizzy and his knees crash into the ground.Â
Aziraphale is in front of him, brushing his hair out of his face and asking a dozen questions. Crowley canât answer any of them. He feels sick and shaky, and he only manages to whine.Â
He wakes up with his head in Aziraphaleâs lap, a soft hand to his forehead.Â
âYou fainted, my love. Just a moment ago.â
It takes a minute before he can speak again. âIâm fine, angel. Donât worry.â
âDonât say that youâre fine when I just watched you faint!â
Crowley is drenched in a cold sweat and canât muster up the energy to sit up yet. His body feels numb--like heâs unattached to it.Â
âNext time you feel poorly like this, you must tell me.â Itâs an order. Aziraphale is good at giving those. âIf I werenât here, you could have hit your head on one of these bricks. I could have found you bleeding out--and you would have deserved it, you selfish, vile, fiend.â
Aziraphale sighs. âPlease tell me next time youâre unwell? Youâve been so weak all winter. I donât want to lose you to a gardening tool through your head. Though your skull is so thick, I doubt itâd do much damage.â
He wipes at his eyes and blinks back tears. Crowley looks up at him and slowly sits up.Â
âI wonât do this again.â
âYou better not.â Aziraphale takes a deep breath. âWell, letâs get you inside.â
Aziraphale helps Crowley stand and lets him lean on him as they walk through their back door and into their living room.Â