Ah, well, you don't really...really forget, us demons. [ More wine, this line of thinking calls for. He drinks again, and looks bemusedly at Aziraphale as he starts poking along his arm and his side, apparently checking for any sign of injury. There are none, but he obligingly holds still for the angel anyway, and then when Aziraphale is done and looking relieved, he reaches for the wine bottle and pours his glass full again. ]

Mmm. See? I told you.

[ He studies Aziraphale when he tells him that everything will be all right. Will it? He'd like to believe so, but it's Aziraphale who has the faith, not him. ]

Come and sit with me, angel. Drink your wine. Tell me--tell me what you've been up to.