Starting at the sound of a voice behind him, Aziraphale turned to find - oh, what had his name been - the young man who'd helped them before. With a tired smile, he clambered to his feet and dusted off his pants.

"He's much better," he said. "Still in pain, I think, but he was able to get a start towards the City, so he's clearly doing better than I am." His smile slid towards the self-deprecating, though he wasn't aware enough to realize it.

"Thank you for the help before, by the way," he added. "I don't know that I ever caught your name, Mr. . . . ?"