He couldn't help but smile a little at that. "Yes," he said, "it would. Convenient, too." He didn't see it as likely that the more fuss they made, the less they'd be affected by the punishment for it - that seemed overly sloppy for what they'd seen of the authority figures in this place so far - but it was a nice thought. He would hang on to nice thoughts, improbable though they might be.

Was it significant that he couldn't remember much? A girl and a young man, a decent amount of shouting - he'd been sad for her, which in retrospect was ridiculous, but felt perfectly natural. They can't have made him feel it; everything else had worn off.

Breathing in the stagnant air, Aziraphale felt face-deep in an oven. He'd wished for the sky a while ago, but he'd wished for it with rain, or stars, not this horrible oppressive heat. With a sigh, he pulled the compass out of his pocket and fiddled with it, watching the needle spin as he turned it. "Sorry," he added. "For even bringing it up." His lips twisted. "And for not fighting."