Even if Aziraphale was kind of a whirlwind of words and motion, Crowley could tell he was deeply distressed. And he could tell most of that distress was centered around him. And he just didn't know how he felt about that.

Still, he did reach an arm out of the blanket cocoon to grab a cup of tea, much to Antia's chagrin. Yes, good job. Don't consume anything for years and then immediately reach for tea. Probably better than the scotch, but still. Crowley would probably be feeling it later. Bodies weren't meant to starve and then suddenly feast. Not that she would feel it, but she would have to endure his complaining.

The question once Aziraphale finally settled down caught him a bit off guard. He considered it, sipping his tea. "I suppose. This is a lot to take in, you know."