Crowley sighs and relaxes a little more as Aziraphale gently caresses his back, the movements slow and soothing, a balm on a wound. The release of tension again is such a relief that combined with Aziraphale's warmth and the sense of being protected, being cared for, it lulls him back to sleep before long.
When he wakes again, hours later, there's daylight shining through the small windows, and Aziraphale is gone. Crowley lays there in silence for a while, listening to the noises of Seville outside, the chatter of the barber and his customers downstairs. His head is still aching and his body is still sore and tired, he feels parched and stretched too thin. But his heart is a bit lighter than it was.
He drinks as much water as he can stand and falls asleep again to wait for his demon's return, curled up under blankets that still smell like Aziraphale, and dreams of grass-covered hills and a ivy growing up the wall of a villa.
Torquemada dies 1498 though. Let's aim earlier, C can stay in Italy a few years after C leaves.
When he wakes again, hours later, there's daylight shining through the small windows, and Aziraphale is gone. Crowley lays there in silence for a while, listening to the noises of Seville outside, the chatter of the barber and his customers downstairs. His head is still aching and his body is still sore and tired, he feels parched and stretched too thin. But his heart is a bit lighter than it was.
He drinks as much water as he can stand and falls asleep again to wait for his demon's return, curled up under blankets that still smell like Aziraphale, and dreams of grass-covered hills and a ivy growing up the wall of a villa.