"You should rest," Crowley says. "Angel, you were the one that----" Nearly died? Discorporated a Duke of Hell? "---was hurt."

With the angel's hands on both sides of his face, Crowley can't help but take in a breath, trying to get himself calmer. He wants to be angry, he wants to be stressed. He wants to yell at Heaven and Hell to bugger off and leave them alone like they were supposed to.

But right now? Right now he just wants to be alone with Aziraphale.