They had never wanted him dead. Even at the end of it all they hadn’t wanted him dead. Had left him standing – though barely – and his teammates, his friends lying scattered around him. Illyria had been first, attacked with a force that showed their utter disdain for the God queen. Then Gunn, who had been lost from the start. Angel and Spike then, fighting back to back. They had hardly touched Angel even as his sword had run them through. Had pressed Spike instead until he could no longer hold them back. And that was it. They’d vanished – hordes of demons – as easily as they had appeared. Left Angel baffled and lost in an empty alley.
Three years after the disaster and Angel still felt lost. He’d hunted down Lorne and been told in no uncertain terms to fuck off. Lorne wanted nothing more to do with him. Angel couldn’t find it in him to blame the demon. He had turned and left without ever getting to say a word.
Back to LA. Not to Wolfram and Hart, not to the hotel Hyperion. Found himself a small apartment instead. There was no need for an office because he had no intentions of starting the agency back up. Though he had every intention of continuing to fight against the evil of this world. From the shadows and on his own. Because clearly this was something that he was meant to undertake alone. It only took everyone he had cared about dieing to clue him into this fact.
So when a contrite looking Oz showed up on his doorstep with nothing more than an almost not there smile, Angel’s first reaction was to shut the door. Which worked for maybe two seconds before the light tapping of Oz’s knocking sounded again.
He opened the door again, making sure he looked threatening, ready to tell Oz to get lost. Never crossed his mind that maybe Oz could be there for a reason. A somebody needs help reason. Or an I need help reason. Angel just wanted this little reminder of the past to go away so he could go back to his dark apartment in peace. Relative peace anyway.
Oz just looked at him. Didn’t look intimidated, didn’t really look anything. Just waited. The angry words died in Angel’s throat as he looked at the boy. A moment later and the angry look was lost as well. Angel didn’t say a word, just stepped back to let Oz entire if that was what he wanted.
He watched nearly warily as Oz stepped by, noticing the bag that was thrown over the boy’s shoulder. Hoped Oz wouldn’t want a place to stay. There was room but Angel simply didn’t want the company, wouldn’t know how to cope with it now.
A slight lift of one eyebrow from Oz as he let his gaze skim quickly over the apartment. At the… nothing that was in it. Angel didn’t see the point in keeping mundane possessions. He was only here to sleep really. The apartment was only one room, a bed in one corner, tiny kitchen in another, small cubby for the bathroom. The rent was cheap. No one bothered him.
It was only a second before Oz settled his gaze on Angel. Gave that almost non-existent smile. "Nice digs."
Angel only nodded in reply. Waited for Oz to get to the point of why he was standing in the middle of Angel’s apartment.
Oz looked as unflappable as ever, even under the vampire’s less than thrilled attention. Oz must have finally clued in though because he got to the point.
"There are two Fyarl demons-"
Angel was already grabbing a sword that leant against the wall and heading for the door before Oz could finish speaking. He only just caught the words as Oz told him where they were. The door clicked shut after him and when he finally returned Oz appeared to be long gone.
As was the small stash of cash he kept in one of the kitchen cupboards for rent.
#
Angel didn’t see Oz again for over two weeks. Didn’t even really think about the encounter at all, just forgot it. That had been nothing more than a disturbance in his life that hadn’t last more than ten minutes. He didn’t expect and didn’t want another one.
When he spotted Oz walking casually down the street, staring at the ground and hands shoved into baggy jeans pockets, his first inclination was to turn and walk the other way. Avoid a confrontation. A small part of him maybe wanted that confrontation though. Just a small brush with humanity. He hesitated a moment before briskly stepping into an alley and letting himself slip easily into the shadows.
Then swore inwardly as Oz reached the alley and turned down it uncannily. Froze in the hopes that Oz hadn’t seen him. Had some other reason for coming down here.
Which is what seemed to be the case as Oz passed by him without so much as pausing. Angel frowned as he actually took a moment to look at the boy. Not really a boy now… What was he? Twenty-five?
Oz needed a shower. A change of clothes, as the ones he wore were dirty and tattered. Not anything like what Angel would have remembered Oz wearing. Dollar a piece thrift store clothes was what these amounted to. Hard times. Skinnier than he used to be as well and Oz had never exactly been a big guy. Really couldn’t afford to lose what weight he had.
Angel watched, eyebrows raised, as Oz set the bag he carried over his shoulder down onto the pavement. He took out a threadbare blanket from the bag and laid it down over the ground. Didn’t bother to turn his head as he spoke lowly a second later.
"You don’t have to hide, Angel." A tinge of amusement colored his voice. It seemed forced almost.
Angel frowned and stepped out of the shadows since he had obviously been caught. "Oh. How-"
"Werewolf." Still spoken in the quietly amused voice and Oz looked over at Angel with a small half smile. He didn’t seem in the least perturbed that Angel was there and watching him bed down in an alley.
Angel gave a nod. Residual aspects. Just watched as Oz sat cross-legged on the blanket and watched Angel right back.
"You stole my money." Stupid but Angel didn’t know what to make of the situation.
Oz shrugged. "Yeah." Not a trace of apology in his voice. At least he hadn’t tried to deny it. Although clearly he just didn’t care.
They didn’t say more. Considered each other a moment before Oz seemed to dismiss Angel and turned back to his bag. Angel took the opportunity to slip silently away. Didn’t want to know why Oz was on the streets. Angel didn’t take in strays anymore.
#
Only now Angel couldn’t stop thinking about Oz. Brushed it off as pity for the boy who was obviously living on the streets. Oz seemed to be doing okay though even if he was a little on the skinny side. At least that’s what Angel firmly told himself.
Angel did not take in strays anymore. He killed the demons and whatever happened to the people afterwards… Well that was their problem. Because he had a job to do and couldn’t have anyone getting in his way. He couldn’t deal with it if another person he knew – cared about on any level – died. It would be better for Oz if he stayed where he was. Not like Oz wasn’t capable of taking care of any vampires or whatever that might go after him.
It didn’t occur to Angel that Oz was also capable of helping the others that were on the street with him. Which was why, when Angel heard screams not far off from where he was patrolling two nights later, he’s shocked to see the problem already being taken care of by an irate Oz.
He stopped at the scene for a moment to watch Oz fending off the four fledgling vampires. Whoever they had been attacking was already gone, Angel could hear the fast receding noise of clicking heels.
They may have been just fledglings but it was still four against one and Oz was rabidly being overpowered. He threw a look in Angel’s direction that fairly begged assistance. That pushed Angel into action and together it didn’t take them long to deal with the vampires. They were smart but nothing against a Master vampire and a werewolf.
Oz was panting by the end. Angel could smell the blood that soaked through the boy’s shirt. He masked the sudden spike of concern as he turned to head back to his apartment.
"Come on." Telling Oz to follow and Angel didn’t get any complaint. He could hear the shuffle of Oz’s feet as he was trailed.
Back at the apartment Angel motioned Oz to go sit on the bed, pretty much the only piece of furniture in the room. Oz complied, perching himself on the edge, holding himself carefully against the pain. There was silence while Angel found what he could to fix up Oz’s wound a bit. Oz still hadn’t moved when Angel came back and sat next to him.
"Your shirt."
There was hesitation from Oz at this as he moved his hands uncertainly to pull it off. Oz had never struck Angel as the self-conscious type but he certainly seemed to be now. Angel waited and was rewarded a moment later by Oz’s sigh as the boy continued the motions of pulling the shirt off. He hissed as it pulled away from drying blood over the wound.
Older wounds were prevalent across the boys back and sides. He didn’t – wouldn’t – look at Angel. Seemed to be waiting for Angel to say something as he stared fixedly at a spot on the wall across from them. About the injuries, about the fact that his ribs seemed to jut out slightly, about the fact that he was sleeping in alleys.
Angel didn’t. It wasn’t his concern. He didn’t want to get involved. He was already more involved than he ever cared to be by inviting Oz into his home. Twice now. He wondered if he had doomed Oz already just by this simple act.
Angel finished bandaging the wound quickly and Oz pulled his shirt back on, looking grateful if still unsure. He stood to walk out of the apartment. Angel didn’t stop him.
#
No sign of Oz for over a month this time. A few days was all it took for Angel to get over the guilt of just letting him go. Occasionally Angel wondered if Oz was doing okay, maybe go look for him just to be sure. He held the urge back for a good month before he had to know. Just find Oz, see he’s okay and leave. No reason for Oz to even know that Angel had been there. Even if Oz sensed him there would be no need for words.
Oz wasn’t okay when Angel finally found him. He could hear the sounds first. Smell hit next and Angel knew it was Oz. Smelt his anger, fear… blood. Arousal but that wasn’t Oz’s.
Angel broke into a run and skidded to a halt when he rounded the corner, ending up in an alley. Stared in horror at the scene he’d known he was going to see. A pained moan from Oz who didn’t seem to notice him and Angel snapped out of it. Snarled and lunged forward, slipping into game face and tearing the fucker that was ramming into Oz off. Threw the man into a wall with the satisfying crunch of ribs breaking. Angel stalked up to the man who now cowered before him. Wanted to kill. Sent of blood and fear and anger in the air. The man smirked at him and he hesitated.
"…Angel." Painfully spoken and quiet. Loud enough for Angel and he turned, ignored the man who took the moment to escape.
Oz was on the ground, having slid down the wall. The game face was shaken off as Angel stepped quickly forward, crouching down next to Oz to help.
Oz who pushed Angel roughly away and stumbled to his feet on his own. The anger soared. Anger now directed at Angel. Oz jerked his jeans up roughly as Angel watched in bafflement. Clearly he had no clue what was going on here. He had just saved Oz, hadn’t he? Angel got to his feet as well but stepped back at the anger that Oz turned on him. Calm, unflappable Oz.
"Stay out of my way, Angel." And stay out of his life. Angel got the unspoken words. Didn’t understand them at all.
"What? I-"
Oz snarled. Literally and Angel took a mental step back. "I didn’t need your help."
Angel’s turn to get angry now and he raised a hand to gesture in the direction that the man had gotten away. "He was raping you!"
A raised eyebrow was Oz’s only response.
"You’re…"
Oz sighed as shocked realization lit on Angel’s face. Shook his head sadly and turned to walk away. There was a tang of salt in the air. Angel watched him in dismay. Oz whoring himself out. Oz reaching a breaking point.
"Wait." Angel reached a hand out to Oz’s arm to stop him. Oz stopped. Didn’t turn. Didn’t speak. "If you need a place to stay…" The offer was left open.
A moment of tense silence from Oz. "No." Then he pulled away from Angel and walked on. Angel let him. Felt guiltily relieved.
#
Early morning five days later and knocking on Angel’s door had him waking five minutes after he had managed to fall asleep. He ignored it. Tried to get back to what he had been doing. The knocking only stopped after a good few minutes and Angel smiled. Let himself drift off back to sleep without a second thought for it.
He didn’t wake until it started to get dark. It was natural now. Tradition these days. He wandered to the fridge to grab a bag of blood but the unmistakable sent of Oz made him stop. Frowning, he set the blood on the counter and went to the door.
Oz was sitting leant up against the wall and looking mostly asleep. He jerked awake when Angel stepped out of the apartment though and blinked up at him. Didn’t bother to stand and Angel just looked down at him and waited.
"Offer still good?"
Angel paused. Nodded.
"Just for a day. Or two," Oz was quick to reassure him.
Angel reached out a hand for Oz to get to his feet. It was taken and they stood silently for a moment before Angel spoke. "Are you hungry?"
Oz smiled. Nodded. "Yeah." He sounded pleased and they both walked back in.
#
They didn’t talk. Not really. Maybe there were conversations but they didn’t talk. Didn’t ask questions. Not Oz about what had happened to Angel’s team. Not Angel about why Oz was on the streets. Never brought up the whoring. Oz didn’t leave after two days. Angel didn’t comment.
They settled into a rhythm around each other. Both went out at night, both slept during the day. The bed was more than big enough for them and since neither moved in their sleep it wasn’t a big deal.
Oz came back most nights smelling of sex and passed out as soon as his head hit the pillow. He wouldn’t let Angel buy him food again because he could fend for himself just fine. Had his pride. Angel didn’t press. He’d tried that once and Oz had just clamed up on him.
Angel was afraid that Oz might leave if he pushed to hard. Selfishly didn’t want to lose the human contact – such as it was – that he had become so accustomed to in his years with the AI gang and was now being accustomed to again with Oz. He missed them. Oz was the best he had now. All he had now.
He had to get rid of Oz before it was too late. Too late and Wolfram and Hart figured out Oz was there. Figured they may as well take care of Oz like they had the others. He couldn’t just tell Oz to leave though. Not now. Maybe if it had been someone Angel hadn’t known from before.
It was the first morning Oz was late. Maybe he wouldn’t come back this time. Angel knew he was stashing money. Preparing for the time when he did leave. He’d left his bag though so he’d have to come back for it. Could be he was simply out eating. Or bleeding out in some alley from a trick that got too rough.
The knob on the door turned – Angel rarely bothered to lock it – and Angel schooled himself not to appear too relieved. Or worried. That didn’t last long though. The door opened and the strong sent of blood wafted into the room. Angel leapt to his feet, vampire reflexes catching Oz before he could fall through the doorway. Oz wasn’t so proud that he refused Angel’s support over to the bed. Never would have made it otherwise.
Angel carefully set him down on the edge of the bed, Oz hissing slightly at the increase in pain.
"Sorry." Quietly spoken and Angel meant so much more than just this. No answer from Oz who was hanging his head heavily, breathing deep. Angel watched for a moment before kneeling, reaching under the bed for the med kit he now kept. It wasn’t the first time Oz had come home in less than good condition. Never like this though.
Sitting back up on the bed next to Oz, Angel began rooting though the med kit for what he would need. "Strip." Curt demand that he knew Oz would follow. Except Oz couldn’t. Tried to get the shirt off but only hissed again in pain and shook his head.
"Can’t." Easy to hear the pain through gritted teeth. Angel moved to help but didn’t want to jostle Oz by trying to pull the shirt off over his head so carefully ripped it away instead. Luckily Oz had a few extra sets of clothes in his duffle. The jeans were a little easier to get off. Didn’t have to rip them, just carefully slide them off. Angel wasn’t surprised to see that blood soaked through the seat.
"Come on, you need a shower." Bath would have been better – easier – but the tiny apartment didn’t have one. Oz didn’t say anything which was fine as Angel hadn’t expected it anyway. He wrapped an arm around the boys shoulders to help him up and over to the shower. Much as Oz tried to walk on his own he never would have made it even the short distance without Angel. Angel could feel Oz’s legs ready to give way under him. Contemplated just carrying Oz but knew it would be going too far.
They made it to the shower anyway where Oz pulled away to step into the stall on his own. He had to brace himself against the tiles while Angel stepped forward to turn the taps and adjust the water to hopefully comfortable levels. No need to tell Oz to brace himself against the sting of water on wounds. Oz flinched but relaxed marginally once the pain subsided.
Angel stood back just outside the shower as water poured over Oz. Washed the blood away to reveal the scrapes and bruises, old and recent. "Gonna be okay here on your own?"
Oz merely glanced at him and gave a miniscule nod. Hesitating only a moment, Angel turned and walked out, leaving the door open so he’d be able to hear easily if anything happened. Oz hardly needed to slip on top of everything else. Angel went and sat on the bed to wait for Oz to be finished so he could bandage the wounds. Do whatever he could to make Oz better.
No way was Oz going out to do this again.
