Crowley watches them eat, and takes a careful bite of his own sandwich. He wishes he felt as confident about it as they do. Aziraphale hasn't shown any sign of life---nothing since they picked him up from that feast. Just asleep. Completely comatose. Crowley let him to to the feast, telling him he was just being stupid, that it couldn't possibly be that bad. Hell, if they poisoned Aziraphale, he'd just come back to life, right?

Not this. No, like this, he's still here. Not even dead.

"How long do we wait? Before we take it up with our captors?" Ever single-minded, Crowley is. "Or start trying other things? I don't know----killing them, see if they wake up in the church?"