The Archangel's grasping hand found Aziraphale's arm and clung tight, but the angel still sank against the corner of the wall, jarring his back on the edge. Gabriel hissed, slid a bit, then seemed to settle. For a moment he just stayed propped where he was, halfway to the ground and leaning on the wall and his brother both.

He wasn't sure which way was up. And his face was red, he could feel it. The Archangel looked down, unnecessarily, to hide it as he tried to lever himself upright again, his back and foot throbbing.