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Raindrops landed on the fallen leaves with a crisp pattering sound, the winter-bare branches providing precious little cover. The first of the early spring daffodils had begun to peek though the leaf litter, and Aziraphale paused to appreciate them, nudging the bright yellow petals reverently with his nose and giving them a quick lick. Winter had its own beauty, but he'd dearly missed the spring.
He continued padding along the path when suddenly the tranquility of the wood was broken by a surprised yelp, followed by a crash and a string of muffled words that, although Aziraphale couldn't hear them, he knew were curses.
He sighed and changed his trajectory, willing his startled tail to unfloof as he trotted into the trees. What has he gotten himself into this time?
He was already preparing a scathing lecture as he rounded the trunk of a massive oak, but the words caught in his throat as he beheld the—still quietly cursing—redheaded tangle of limbs sprawled amidst its roots.
"Crowley!" he cried, and bounded forward, changing to his two-legged form as he skidded to a stop beside his friend.
Crowley broke off his swearing as Aziraphale joined him. He attempted to sit, but the moment he braced his arm, he cried out and slumped back to the damp ground.
"Oh, my dear," Aziraphale fussed. "What happened? Where are you injured?"
"Hi, 'ziraphale," Crowley mumbled, hiding his face in his uninjured arm, his ears flat to his head. "'m fine."
"You most certainly are not!" Aziraphale replied indignantly. He began gingerly prodding Crowley, noting where he winced, and asked again, "So, what happened?"
"HnnnnIfelloutofthetree."
"Come again?"
Crowley lowered his arm, but still didn't meet Aziraphale's eyes. "I fell out of the tree."
Aziraphale huffed. "Of course. Of course. It's not like you have the innate ability to land on your feet or anything. Why didn't you transform?"
"I…forgot? There was a nest I was trying to get to and I couldn't reach it so I went to two legs. And then I slipped in the wet, the branch I was standing on broke, and I just…fell. I tried to twist but I was in the wrong shape and before I could fix it—BAM. Ground."
"I see." Aziraphale pursed his lips, his disapproving expression at odds with his gentle hands as he continued inspecting Crowley for injury. "I'll admit, that is less foolish than I was anticipating."
Crowley snorted. "Thanks. Love the vote of confidence."
Aziraphale swatted him lightly. "Hush, you." His expression turned serious again. "Can you stand, my dear? You seem to have injured your shoulder and likely your hip, so move carefully."
Crowley snorted. "I could have told you that, if you'd left off fussing and just asked." He braced on a root and attempted to stand, but sunk down immediately with a hiss. "Nope."
Aziraphale grimaced in sympathy. "Well, there's nothing for it, then. Switch over to four legs and I'll carry you back to the village."
Crowley groaned. "Noooo, that's humiliating. I'm not a kitten anymore, to get carried around."
"Would you rather I leave you here to make your own way back, then?"—he would never, and they both knew it—"Or would you prefer I construct a litter and drag you back? I'm sure that would be much more dignified."
Crowley hissed softly, his ears flat and tail thumping in irritation. "You're a right bastard, you know that?"
"So you tell me," Aziraphale said.
"Fine. Fine. I'll let you carry me. Fuck."
"Not until you've healed, darling," Aziraphale replied, straight-faced.
Crowley's sputtering changed timbre as he popped into his four-legged shape; he shoved his nose under his foreleg to try to hide again. It did not provide much cover. "You can't just say things like that!"
Aziraphale hummed unapologetically. "Of course not, dear. Now, try not to move overmuch; I'm going to lift you."
He ever-so-carefully gathered Crowley into his arms, cradling his small body against his chest. "Alright, then," he said as Crowley relaxed into him. "Let's get you to the healer."
Crowley tipped his black-and-russet head back so he was looking up at Aziraphale, his whiskers catching on Aziraphale's own cream and white fur as they brushed against him. "Aziraphale?"
Aziraphale smiled down at him. "Yes?"
"…Can we, you know…revisit that, later?"
Aziraphale felt his face heating. "I…yes. If you wish."
A rumbling purr began in Crowley's chest, and Aziraphale quickly matched it as he began the long walk back to the village, his dearest friend in his arms.