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Let it never be said that anxiety is in one's nature from birth. It is planted, like a tree that grows from seed in your soul, and the more you try to ignore it, the taller it becomes.
Imagine a tree of 6000 years. That would be Aziraphale. Of course, trees don't live that long, so it's more like a small forest of its descendants, from tiny fear to overwhelming terror.
It all started in Eden, with two beings standing in the rain, one shielding the other with a wing above his head.
4004 BC
He looked scared and fragile for a demon, and the more Aziraphale looked at him the more he saw it. His clothes were dark and torn, his feet was scarred from when he fell from heaven. And about falling... It would have really only taken a single push right now.
The angel stopped himself from thinking about this further. After all, he would have never pushed him down, would he? Would he?
He pulled his thoughts together enough to speak up.
"I do believe we should go after them after it stops coming down." he said, trying to keep his mind occupied.
"Yeah. Probably" muttered the demon.
And then it was quiet, with the only sound being the raindrops hitting the walls of Eden, on which Aziraphale continued to drown out his thoughts.
2019 AD
Crowley had ash on him, from two things that happened that day, and walking next to him, his Angel could smell it. They made their way up the stairs, and opened the door to the minimalist flat.
Aziraphale was glad to have the sword taken away from him, since after Eden, he was shocked to discover that the urge to push never really went away from him, no matter how much he loved the demon.
"Or I'll never talk to you again"
He wanted to apologise for what went through his head before that moment, and for how for the first time in 6000 years, his hand twitched towards turning that thought into reality.
The image disturbed him, and he wanted to get rid if it, just like when he handed over the thermos with his hands shaking, and his mind screaming for him to open it and spill it all over...
He didn't realise that he closed his eyes until he heard the sound of Crowley snapping his fingers.
"I'm sorry Angel I've had a minor argument here with some friends."
He saw water evaporating from the tiles, and his thermos closing itself on the table.
"The bedroom would be this way." Crowley pointed towards a door, and lead the way.
Aziraphale tried not to look at the table.
The bedroom had two beds, which were always done, always with the finest fabrics the owner could find, or rather bring into existence.
"That's very sweet of you" the angel said "but I'm afraid I won't be sleeping."
"That's fine, I have a book on astronomy if you'd like to read."
"Thank you, I might take that offer. Good night."
Aziraphale closed the door and headed to the study. He let his mind wander for hours, occasionally checking the time, waiting for an angel or a demon to come for them.
At 4 am he heard a weak sob. He tensed up for a second, listening closely if there would be any more.
10 minutes passed until he heard a scream of agony from Crowley's bedroom. He jumped to his feet and ran to the room, kicking the door open, only to find his friend alone, sweaty, and tangled in his sheets. He clicked on the light to take a better look at him. The demon was fast asleep, his open, scared eyes moving quickly.
He's defenseless, said a dark thought in the back of the angel's mind.
He jumped a little, gasping for air as if he had been suffocating.
"Can you hear me? We're safe, we stopped it."
Crowley reached for the Angel's hand on his head, holding on to it as if his life depended on it.
"You were having a nightmare, everything is alright."
"So it's all tickety-boo?" The demon laughed a little trough his tears, and released the hand.
Aziraphale smiled.
"Would it be okay for me to stay with you for now?"
"Please do" He shifted a little to the side, then back, after realising what he'd done. "You can use the other bed if you'd like."
Crowley kicked down his blanket, and curled up. Aziraphale didn't see this, as he was busy not looking. He tugged gently at reality to turn the lights off.
"Hey Aziraphale. You awake?" Asked Crowley some time later.
"I am." Whispered said angel.
"Would you hurt me? If it comes down to that."
"I've never even thought about it." He lied.
Crowley turned his head to look at him.
"Oh, but you surely have!" he began "Eden? Mesopotamia?"
"I promise I haven't, and I'd never lay a finger on you." The second claim was true.
"I really don't deserve you." Laughed Crowley.
I love you, thought Aziraphale. He thought about lying down beside him, and drying his tears. He found it nice to think about something other than the likes of pushing him in Eden, and all those other times when he really didn't want to hurt him. It was nice.
So he let his hands twitch and turn that thought into reality.