Aziraphale stumbles towards the stairs, and has trouble getting up them, tripping and falling into Crowley at one of the points.

"So sorry," he says, trying to back away from him. "Crowley, I don't think this walk is working." He sounds a little defeated; he just needs a little time. Usually it's spent alone, reading, sequestered away from the rest of the world. But they've taken that away from him.

"Are we almost at the top?"