It was several days before Angel felt good enough about Oz’s condition to bring it up.
Oz hadn’t left the room. Hadn’t felt well enough to. He carried himself with care and stayed as silent as ever. Never once complained or asked for more from Angel. Angel watched him but kept quiet as well. When Oz seemed to decide that Angel wasn’t going to push the issue he relaxed slightly. Stopped acting like he was waiting for some bomb to drop whenever Angel was around.
Angel gave him another day to rest before doing just what Oz had so clearly been fearing. Had to do it before Oz got it in his head to go back out.
Angel came home in the morning as usual the next day and found Oz on the bed and reading one of the many books that Angel had kept around. He looked up when Angel walked in and offered a small smile of greeting. Went right back to the book.
Angel went through the usual routine of heating and drinking a bag of blood before moving over to the bed. Sat on his side of it and wondered at the best way to bring this conversation up. Anything he said would set Oz on the defensive. It would probably end in an argument but Angel couldn’t see how to avoid that. May as well get it over with though and he spoke almost hesitantly.
"You can’t go out and do this again." Not a demand, just something being put forth.
Oz didn’t say anything for a moment before marking his place in the book and setting it down. He gave Angel a look that said to drop it now.
Angel sighed, feeling almost frustrated. "Why are you even doing this?" Surely someone with Oz’s intelligence could get an actual job.
Oz shrugged. Looked away and picked up the book again. End of conversation. Not for Angel though. He grabbed hold of Oz’s wrist to stop him and got a pissed off looking raised eyebrow.
"If you need money that badly why don’t you just ask?"
"I don’t need the money."
"Then what?" He tried not to make his voice sound too sharp but it still came out with that frustrated ‘what the fuck is going on here’ tone.
Oz pulled his wrist out of Angel’s grip. "It doesn’t matter." He moved to get up and leave. Angel didn’t let him, got hold of his wrist again.
"Tell me, Oz."
Instead of answering Oz fell to absently fiddling with the charm necklace that was wrapped around one hand. It was a motion he did often. Angel remained silent to let him think, letting go of his wrist as it was obvious he no longer planned to bolt.
"I’m not doing this for money."
"Then what?"
Silence for several long moments. Oz seemed to contemplate whether it was worth it to tell Angel. Slumped shoulders and a sigh told Angel that Oz would talk.
Drugs. Oz did it all for drugs. Not your regular kind either. Black market magic cocktails. No outward side effects that would allow Angel – or anyone – to know that something was up. Meant to stop Oz from ever turning back into the wolf. He’d been terrified of it ever since he’d nearly killed Tara. Now he didn’t have to worry about it – at least not as much – but he paid the price.
Angel listened in silence. Had to curb the growing anger that someone would take advantage of Oz – of anyone – like that.
The man gave Oz a bit of money every time as well. Living expenses, he wanted to keep the boy around. And it was hard to get a job when each morning you came home barely able to walk.
It hadn’t struck Angel as odd that Oz had never come home every night smelling like different men. All he had smelt that mattered to him had been pain and exhaustion. Anything else was ignored.
So surely Angel could see why Oz had to keep doing this. It wasn’t so bad really. Especially now that Oz had a bed to come to. A place to stay, someone to talk with about inconsequential things. Someone to offer support.
Angel couldn’t see it though. There had to be better ways. But when Oz said he was going out again that night Angel didn’t contradict him. Nodded.
#
He looked everywhere. Spent every night not helping the helpless on the streets because he was too busy trying to help the helpless in his own home. Was determined to find a better way for Oz to control the wolf. Maybe get rid of it altogether.
Oz didn’t know. He wasn’t about to tell Oz just so that he could be told to stop. Because of course Oz could handle it. Which was why when he came home one morning and crawled into the bed beside Angel the sent of tears were in the air.
No words were spoken. Oz just laid on his side away from Angel and fought back tears that he couldn’t hide. Not from a vampire. Angel didn’t move though. This wasn’t a first either and Oz usually managed to drop off to sleep fairly quickly.
That didn’t seem to be the case this time though. A quickly cut off, muffled sob had Angel turning onto his side against his better judgments. He stared at Oz’s tense back for a moment before lifting a hand to rest lightly on a shoulder blade. Felt as Oz took a deep shuddering breath but otherwise didn’t move.
"Hey." Softly spoken because Angel truly had no idea what to say. Had no clue what the line was between them and sort of doubted that Oz knew either. There was no response for a moment and if Angel didn’t know better he’d have thought that Oz fell asleep with the amount of time it took.
Oz was still awake though and spoke in a voice quiet enough that it was barely there. "Sorry."
Hard for a vampire to miss the barely perceptible shift back against Angel's hand that told him how much Oz really craved the comfort. Even if Oz didn't realize - or want to admit - it himself. Angel slid his arm over and around Oz's chest. Didn't stop when Oz instantly tensed and pulled the boy back against him. It took a few moments but Oz relaxed back against him. Not completely, there was still some tension there, but it was a start.
It was still hours before Oz relaxed enough to sleep.
#
A new tradition easily started. Oz would come back in the morning, more often than not later than Angel. Strip down to boxers and crawl into the bed, relax against Angel until Angel automatically raised an arm. They'd sleep curled around each other for the rest of the day until Oz would get up to make something to eat from the now slightly better stalked kitchen. Heated a mug of blood for Angel as well.
Angel was definitely getting too attached. Oz hadn't even truly done anything to bring him out of the brooding depression he had fallen into with the death of the others. Yet Angel could feel himself… just starting to relax, starting to really care about things - Oz - again. And he didn't mind. Didn't want to chase Oz away so he could go back to his solitary darkness.
Hopefully Oz being there wouldn't matter anyway. Oz had nothing to do with Angel's fight. He was here for his own reasons. Oz wouldn't get in Wolfram and Harts way. At least that's what Angel told himself. Could even convince himself that it was true. That he wouldn't have to tell Oz it was time for him to leave. Not often, anyway.
It seemed far more prudent to convince Oz to stay actually. Oz still stashed whatever cash he could come by. Was still obviously planning to leave as soon as he had enough. Or started to fear that he had worn out his welcome. Angel couldn't let him leave. Not now. Angel doubted if he ever really could have despite everything.
Early morning, when Oz came home and curled up next to Angel, was proving to be the best time to bring anything up. Oz was tired - exhausted - and more willing to talk. As much as he was ever willing to talk. At least Angel knew he'd get a somewhat honest answer from a - if only slightly - less closed off Oz.
Arms wrapped around Oz and the heat from Oz's back pressed against him soaking in, Angel spoke quietly.
"You don't need to save money. You can stay here."
"Okay." And Oz shifted back against him. Angel tightened his arms.
The next time rent was due Oz paid.
#
Every night Oz still went out. Angel went as well, searching for a cure that didn't seem to exist beyond what Oz had already found. He went to see every mystic he knew, hunted down the one's he didn't. None knew what the magical cocktail Oz was taking could be. Had never heard of something like that being done.
But Angel was stubborn. Didn't know when to quit trying. Didn't care if the people he normally tried to protect every night were being virtually ignored. Oz mattered more than them and Angel couldn't remember when that had happened.
He tried old contacts of Wesley's that the man thought Angel hadn't known about. Only one could give him any type of a lead. It was only a name but it was at least a start, the most he had managed to get so far. Ciro. Supposedly he knew a way or if not, could at least find out.
If not then Angel would be forced to go to the back up plan and rip the throat out of the fucker that had been hurting Oz. The only reason he hadn't already done that was because he could imagine Oz's reaction at having the only sorta cure taken away. Angel didn't want Oz to be so pissed off that he'd leave.
Now he had the lead though, shaky as it was. It meant leaving town. Leaving Oz on his own. As much as Angel hated it he couldn't find another way. He wasn't about to leave without letting Oz know first though. Waited until he was actually ready to leave and Oz was eating a hastily thrown together breakfast/dinner.
He had a bag packed with what he'd need at his side when he stepped up to Oz at the small table which was little more than plywood set on crates. Low down enough that chairs were useless and Oz sat cross-legged on the floor. He had to look up when Angel stepped alongside him, eyebrow raising as he caught sight of the bag in hand.
"…Going somewhere?" Simple inquiry after the obvious but Angel thought - or maybe hoped - that he could hear disappointment in the tone.
"Yeah. There's something I need to take care of. Probably be a couple of weeks."
"Oh." Oz seemed at a loss for what to say. Looked down and this time Angel knew he saw disappointment on Oz's face.
"I'll see you went I get back though." Which was only another way of asking if Oz would still be here when he got back.
Oz looked back up. Smiled. "Yeah, of course."
It was all Angel needed. Oz wouldn't say he'd see him unless it was actually true. Which meant he wouldn't be planning to run while Angel was gone. He'd still be here when Angel got back and Angel felt a wash of relief at the thought. Said one more brief goodbye and turned to leave. He could feel Oz's eyes watching him walk out.
#
Oz wasn't there when he got back.
The trip hadn't taken him as long as he'd thought it would. Ten days. Surprisingly easy.
Ciro proved to be rather accommodating. Had threatened Angel with magic when Angel had threatened him. Then waited until Angel backed down and patiently listened while Angel told him what he was doing there, what he wanted. Why he wanted it. Because it was to help a friend, someone he cared about. Ciro seemed agreeable after that.
There was no cure. There never had been, there never would be. There were ways of calming the wolf, however. Uncommon and hard to come by but there were ways.
So Angel came back with one of those ways. A magical cocktail not unlike Oz was already taking every week. This one was to be taken on each day of the full moon. Angel trusted that it would work. In return Ciro could call on him if he ever needed a favor and Angel would come.
But none of it mattered because Angel came back and Oz wasn't there.
Hadn't been there for some time as his sent was beginning to fade. What meager possessions he had were still there though, leaving only one conclusion for Angel to draw on.
Angel was back out the door only a few short moments after he had stepped in. Had dropped his bag carelessly and left the door swinging open. He ran back out onto the streets and looked around wildly. He shook his head at himself. As if Oz was just going to suddenly pop up and say hi.
Taking a moment to gather himself briefly he took a deep breath. Couldn't catch even the faintest trace of Oz which was not unusual in a city where scents were washed away almost instantly. He stood for a moment uncertainly before turning and heading at a jog to the alley where he had found Oz the once.
There was a stronger sent of Oz here but it was still old by several days. Still enough for Angel to follow. The trail faded once he stepped out of the alley and into the busy streets. Concentrating though, Angel could pick up minute traces of it. Oz's blood, Oz's fear. Angel was becoming far too familiar with both.
Losing the trail several times but always - through grim determination - managing to pick it up again, Angel found himself in a fairly quiet almost family type neighborhood. The house that stood before him was nothing remarkable. It did pose a problem if Oz was inside though. Plus it would be light out in a few hours. He was running short on time.
Taking a chance that luck might be on his side just this once - though he doubted it - he took up hiding behind the hedges that lined either side of the driveway. Waited and procrastinated the sense that would be leaving until the sun was nearly out.
The door creaked open and someone stepped out onto the steps. Angel didn't hesitate before honed reflexes had him on the man in a flash, hand in a crushing grip around his throat. Only a brief pause to make sure that this was the man he had caught hurting Oz and Angel could feel the rage build. His hand flexed. The man didn't have any chance as his windpipe collapsed under the grip.
Another moment and Angel had free entrance to the house. A nice normal house. Nothing there to indicate what a sick fucker the owner had been. Nothing to indicate that there'd be a clearly injured - beaten - naked man sprawled out on the bed and waiting, half unconscious.
"…Oz."
No response. Oz just continued his blank staring up at the ceiling through half closed eyes. Seemed resigned to whatever was about to come.
Angel made his way to the side of the bed. Oz was a wreck. Cut and bruised. Looked as if a half-hearted attempt had been made at cleaning him up.
Swallowing, Angel made his way up to the side of the bed. Made sure that he was in Oz's line of sight and tried again. "Oz?"
Oz blinked. Seemed to focus and clear his gaze. "Angel? Hey. You're back early."
"…Yeah. Yeah, I am." Angel watched Oz with worry but Oz was too out of it to notice. He closed his eyes and seemed about to drift off. Angel let him. Watched a moment longer before leaving to hunt through the house for a med kit or some supplies to clean Oz up properly.
It was awhile before Angel managed to get Oz properly cleaned up and he sat back on the bed and waited. For Oz to wake. For dark to fall so they could get home.
#
Dark came before Oz woke.
Angel remained at his self-appointed vigil at the edge of the bed. Already Oz seemed to be looking better than when Angel had first stepped in. Mostly that was due to the simple fact that he had been properly cleaned and treated. Angel liked to imagine that maybe he looked a little less strained as well.
Oz tensed the moment he woke, a wave of fear/anger washing over him. Angel was there instantly, leaning over him slightly and trying to reassure. Oz's eyes blinked open and he stared at Angel in obvious confusion.
"Angel? What are you doing here?" He spoke slowly, like he had to concentrate in order to form the words.
"Saving you. Think you're okay to get out of here?"
Oz shook his head slightly, still seeming confused. He sat up with only a slight grimace of pain and the blankets that Angel had pulled up over him fell to pool at his waist. "No. I can't leave yet and you're not even supposed to be here." He was beginning to sound a little panicked, eyes darting quickly to the door. Afraid that someone would walk in.
"He's not coming back, Oz."
Oz turned his gaze back on Angel. Frowned. "What?" His eyes narrowed almost angrily. "How did you get in here?" Dangerously calm and Angel knew he had to back peddle quickly.
"Oz, it's not-"
"You killed him. He was my one chance at-"
"No, it-"
"Shut up. Get out." He'd closed his eyes and the voice that had been about to rise became quiet once more as Oz forcibly calmed.
"Just listen, Oz." Oz didn't say anything. Kept his eyes closed and held himself tense. "You don't need him. I found another way, that's what I left for. So I could come back with another way that wouldn't involve you selling yourself." Angel spoke firmly, hoping to drive the point home to Oz.
Oz just stared at him, slight furrow to his brow as if he couldn't quite comprehend what Angel was telling him. Angel let the silence continue, met Oz's gaze until Oz looked down and spoke softly. "It's really over? I didn't ask for help."
"It is and you didn't need to."
Oz nodded, looked down once again and Angel frowned at the almost shamed appearance it gave him. The boy took a deep breath and - someone what startled - Angel could recognize it as the start of a sob. Oz seemed to lean slightly towards Angel, silently asking without words. Angel didn't hesitate; slide further onto the bed and gathered Oz into his arms. The same instant Oz broke, sobbed hard against Angel who could only hold him tighter.
#
They finally made it home in early pre-dawn hours, Angel having to carry Oz most the way as he lacked the strength. By the time they had made it back Oz was nearly passed out, head rolling against Angel’s shoulder. He would be fine. Angel still worried.
Back at home, kicking the still open door wide. No one had been in, everything still in it’s place. Not so surprising as there was nothing of value here anyway.
Oz was placed carefully on the bed but instantly sat up, hands moving to the buttons on the shirt he wore. Angel had had to put Oz in what clothes could be found in the dresser as Oz’s own were beyond use. Angel didn’t comment, moved forward to help when Oz’s fingers kept fumbling. Oz was trembling, his eyes gleaming again with moisture.
Angel got all the buttons, moved his hand up to Oz’s shoulder and slid the shirt off. Watched as it pooled at Oz’s hips. Oz looked down as Angel’s hands moved to the fastenings of the too large slacks and Angel ignored the twitch as the zipper was lowered. He was about to raise his hands to the waistband to tug the offending slacks down but Oz’s hands suddenly around his wrists stopped him. He looked up. Waited.
"Please." Longing in the strained word. Angel could guess what he wanted. To forget, be cleansed. For Angel to do that.
Angel shook his head. Carefully pulled free of Oz’s weak grip and took his hands gently. Spoke gently as well. "No."
Oz’s gaze instantly dropped. Shame flushed over his features and there was the tang of blood as he bit the inside of his cheek. He clenched his eyes shut but it couldn’t stop the new flood of tears. Angel released Oz’s hands and pulled him down into a hug. Oz went willingly, practically falling off the bed so Angel could hold Oz properly from where he was kneeled on the floor.
Oz was breaking down now that he could, now that he didn’t have to stay strong for the next time. Because there wasn’t a next time. Never would be. It shouldn’t surprise Angel but it did. Stoic Oz, crying in his arms. Wrong. Nothing more Angel could do but hold Oz and offer what comfort he could.
When the tears finally began to taper once more and Angel could feel Oz beginning to drift off, Angel stood. Held Oz close in his arms and placed the boy back on the bed. Mostly asleep, Oz didn’t complain. He lifted his hips in compliance when Angel finished tugging the slacks off but otherwise didn’t move.
Not bothering with stripping himself, Angel just manhandled the boneless Oz around until he could pull the covers over them both. Gathered Oz back into his arms and waited until there was nothing but deep breathing filling the room.
#
Horrors were gone, vanished. Things were brighter, happier. No more huge shadow seemed to hang over them. Not Oz at any rate. Angel would always have his shadow in the form of Wolfram and Hart. But Oz… Oz seemed lifted, buoyant. Better.
The new drug worked. Three full moons Oz had used it now. Claimed it was the closest he had ever felt to being normal since he had been bitten. To not always worrying about the wolf inside. Now Angel could see the he was getting ready to leave. Ready to move on. Leave this horrible – traumatizing – chapter of his life behind. Leave Angel behind. And Angel couldn’t see any way to stop it.
Oz would leave.
It was what he wanted. What was best on all accounts. Because Wolfram and Hart would come. Angel couldn’t see Oz hurt more.
Oz got a crap job. Stashed the meager amount of money that it paid. Never outwardly told Angel that he would leave, it was simply understood. They both knew this.
It loomed over the horizon and Angel knew when it had unaccountably arrived. He spent the day holding Oz without ever wanting to let go. But evening had Angel going out on patrol as usual. Saying goodbye to Oz. Oz saying goodbye to him.
When he came back the apartment – his life – was empty again.
