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“This is ssstupid,” the demon hissed, looking at the bath full of water with distaste.
“You claim the cold compresses do help. I say it wouldn’t be out of scope of a possibility for an ice cold bath to work for you as well, Crowley.”
Crowley grumbled. Yes, maybe. Probably. But he didn’t want to go in.
“Nah. I propose we scratch off that idea. It’s not that—”
“If you say ‘it’s not that bad’ one more time, I will push you there myself, Crowley. Sulking serpent or not.”
“You wouldn’t dare!”
“Wouldn’t I?” the angel asked with a hint of bastardness and Crowley knew that he would. He totally would drop him there, allured by the promise of helping him. And the worst thing was, he’d probably be right.
Crowley sighed in resignation. “Fffine. But for the record, I put on a big fight ‘bout this.”
“Of course you did,” Aziraphale said, and it suspiciously sounded patronising.
The demon decided to ignore him, getting rid of his clothes, sans the boxers because he didn’t need for his nethers to completely freeze off. The ethereal beings had different thermoregulation than humans, they could usually be at a perfect temperature if one was an angel, or like Crowley, suffer through his Curse as a Serpent of Eden, making him prone to cold temperatures like a reptile.
So this won’t really be a long soak, least he starts brumating. Although…
Didn’t brumation sound promising? A few months of a blissful nap from the excruciating pain?
He shook his head, as if getting rid of the idea. It was alluring, yes, but he wouldn’t do that to his Angel. He was already worried.
He got in.
And immediately regretted it.
The water was—obviously, ice cold and he almost bolted off the tub. But then, it started doing its thing and there was only a sharp feeling of coldness, all soothing his painful joints.
He sighed in what could pass as relief. He laid under the coldness, soaking in, sometimes responding to Aziraphale through chattering teeth.
Soon, it grew too much, and before he could go into a sudden slumber, Crowley was hauled off the bathtub by gentle hands. There was a quick miracle to dry him off and another one to put the demon into comfortable and soft clothes.
For some time it helped numb the pain and for that, Crowley was grateful. It won’t last long, but that didn’t matter—what did, was the current moment, and right now, it brought a reprieve from the horrors of his own body.
Sometimes that was the best it would get without turning to drastic measures which in Crowley's case meant turning into a snake.