It's fine because he is the one being crushed under the paw and gasping for breath and not Crowley. He's an angel. Angels heal better than demons anyway, though it's doing nothing for his beloved coat. He's unable to speak anyway as the pressure increases and tries to make flailing gestures to get Crowley to get out and get safe.

But then the sunglasses fall. He has the sinking feeling Crowley is going to do something stupid and, lo, he hates it when he's right. There's something interesting about the snake writhing over him but now is really not the blessed time and the strike is sudden and violent and does the job.

Though sends Crowley flying.

Aziraphale staggers to his feet, wheezing, and stumbles toward the bush as best he can, finally managing a somewhat decent jog.

"Come...huff on, my dear." He plucks the snake out of the bush, and then at the bone chilling howl that rattles through the air, wraps Crowley about his neck like a scarf and picks up his pace as best he could. It's not anything close to a fast clip considering he is-- not the trimmest around.

Fortunately he manages to find a hiding space between the chilly damp walls of two buildings and presses himself within it. It is so close that the walls touch either shoulder and crowd his wings against his back. But, uncomfortable or not, it is safe.

"Honestly. What a nightmare." Why they had been chosen for this he was sure he had no idea. "And you. I would appreciate if you showed a bit more sense." He strokes the top of the snake's head absently as he says it.

"Do you think I want to be stuck here all by myself?"