Harried is a bit of an understatement; Crowley looks positively wrung out, and despite feeling the vibrations of Aziraphale approaching the door, he didn't calm down until he saw Aziraphale's face, squinting and puzzled, and oh no.

"They're messing with us, Aziraphale. Just like they did when we got here, cutting off our miracles and our - "

He stops, not even able to bring himself to say it. He'd had a complete fit about his clipped wings for a good three hours once he was tucked away in the privacy of his room.

"Anyway. You know how I can't really hear when I'm a snake? S'like that. You're losing something too, right?"