Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The evening was well into the night when the doors of Angel Investigations offices swung open. Angel, Sienna, and Wesley entered, covered in a viscous liquid that left a slimy trail on the floor behind them. The acrid scent of battle and effort filled the air, but the three companions seemed more exasperated than exhausted.

— "Why is it always the three of us who have to deal with the disgusting stuff?" Sienna exclaimed, frustrated, pushing back a strand of hair stuck to her forehead.

Her fingers were immediately coated in the sticky substance, and she grimaced in disgust.

— "Let’s just say it comes with the job…" Angel replied, unfazed.

His clothes, soaked in the same liquid, clung uncomfortably to his skin. Wesley, just as sticky, took off his stained glasses and attempted to clean them with a cloth that wasn’t much cleaner.

— "No, she’s not wrong, Angel…" Wesley retorted. "Lindsey comes with us every other time, yet somehow, it never falls on him!"

Angel let out a small chuckle. Ever since he had relaunched Angel Investigations with Sienna and Wesley, they had dealt with their fair share of disgusting demons. But it was true that Lindsey had miraculously been spared by the worst splashes.

— "Maybe slimy demons are afraid of ex-evil lawyers…" the vampire quipped, a wry smirk on his lips.

Sienna rolled her eyes, peeling off her torn and stained coat.

— "Pff… You should ask him his secret…" she grumbled. "Well, I’m taking a shower first. I want to go and see how Gunn is doing with this offshore company case."

She walked off toward the small adjoining bathroom, trying not to leave too many slimy traces on the floor. Angel and Wesley remained alone in the hallway, still covered in goo but more relaxed.

— "Looks like they are getting along well…" the vampire remarked.

Wesley nodded, a subtle smile tugging at his lips.

— "Yes. Gunn really found his calling when he took over Wolfram & Hart. He’s become someone important, and it suits him. And Sienna certainly played no small part in that change."

— "And what about you and Illyria?" Angel asked, a little awkwardly.

Wesley hesitated, then shrugged slightly.

— "She comes and goes… But last week, she said ‘home’ when she referred to my apartment…"

— "Oh! Good news!" Angel exclaimed. "That’s good news, right?"

— "Yes, it is. But she took off again… She had finished exploring the West Coast and left... to the North Pole, I think…"

— "Seriously?" Angel replied, somewhat incredulous.

Wesley nodded with quiet resignation. By now, he had learned to deal with Illyria’s wanderlust.

— "Yep… It’s hard to talk about ‘plans’ with such a vagabond," he said with a slightly weary tone. "But speaking of plans, what about Lindsey? Did he accept Lorne’s offer?"

— "No, he turned it down," Angel replied. "And I think he was right… His place is on stage, not backstage. A producer’s job wasn’t for him."

— "Well, that’s true," Wesley agreed. "I went to his band’s concert last month, and it was a hit! And even though he wasn’t singing, just playing guitar, he looked radiant on stage."

A wistful smile softened Angel’s features.

— "Yeah, Lindsey’s doing well. Last week, he accompanied Nate in court. Even though he is still confined to administrative work… It felt good for him to be back in a courtroom, though. He was enthusiastic all evening."

— "Is he considering pleading in sign language?" Wesley asked curiously.

— "No, I don’t think so… It would require an interpreter at every hearing for those who don’t understand, and he finds that too restrictive. But he does want to start handling client meetings again, communicating in writing when necessary for the more complex aspects."

— "He’ll make it," Sienna suddenly declared, reappearing freshly showered. "I haven’t known him as long as you two, but if anyone can pull it off, it’s him!"

Angel let out a small laugh. That was true.

— "Alright, my turn to shower. Lindsey is probably cooking for tomorrow night’s party, and he’ll be grouchy if I’m too late!" His expression softened with unmistakable affection. "You should see him when he gets mad and tries to yell at me… in silence. He’s so cute, absolutely adorable…"

Sienna and Wesley burst out laughing.

— "Don’t ever tell him I said that…" Angel added as he headed toward the bathroom, under the amused looks of his two companions.

---

Angel parked the car directly in the garage. When they had chosen this house in a quiet neighborhood, that was one of the first things they had looked for: a garage directly connected to the house so Angel could get inside without fearing the sun. Lindsey, for his part, had insisted on having a small garden: he was fed up with city apartments. They had been lucky to find this house quickly. It was old but only needed minor renovations, mainly a fresh coat of paint. The only major project had been installing special windows, created by Wolfram & Hart, so that Angel wouldn’t end up turning to ash.

As he stepped into the kitchen, Angel was greeted by the sweet scent of chocolate floating in the air and the sound of country music playing on the radio. Even though he could no longer sing, music had never truly left Lindsey. The dim lighting of the room cast a glow over his silhouette as he leaned over the counter.

Smiling, Angel approached him softly, placed his hands on his hips, and pressed a kiss to the nape of his neck.

— "I've wanted you all day," he murmured in his ear.

A broad smile immediately stretched across Lindsey’s lips, and he turned to kiss Angel. Unable to resist, the vampire effortlessly lifted him and sat him on the counter.

— "You smell good," the vampire noted, burying his face in his neck and running his tongue over the tiny bite marks that never had time to fully heal.

Lifting his head, he locked eyes with Lindsey, his gaze heavy with desire. "It makes me want to take you right now, on the kitchen table."

Lindsey arched an eyebrow, his gaze darkening with a seductive glint. Biting his lower lip in a knowing way, he let his hand slide over Angel’s chest, tracing the curve of his muscles before moving down to his crotch. His fingers lingered on the fabric, pressing and stroking Angel’s cock through his pants, drawing a low growl from the vampire.

— "Looks like you’re in the mood for it…" Angel said in a husky voice, his hands caressing Lindsey’s thighs. "Or would you rather keep cooking…?"

Lindsey rolled his eyes and pushed Angel away with one hand before hopping off the counter. But the amusement in his gaze was obvious. He grabbed Angel’s shirt collar and pulled him in for a passionate kiss, backing him up until they reached the table at the center of the small kitchen. With a swift motion, Angel lifted Lindsey again and settled him on the table, pushing aside the scattered utensils that had been used to prepare the cake for Connor’s celebration. The bowl of melted chocolate was shoved to the side and Lindsey found himself lying back, his eyes shining with anticipation.

Eagerly, Angel leaned over him, unbuttoning his shirt to let his hands roam over the warm skin. Then, impatiently, he slid down Lindsey’s pants and bent down, taking his lover’s erection straight into his mouth.

Lindsey let out a soft sigh, which soon turned into breathy moans under Angel’s expert tongue. His back arched instinctively, offering more of his body, his hands gripping the edge of the table as if to ground himself.

After a few moments, the vampire lifted his head, and Lindsey took the opportunity to reach for a knife lying within reach. A provocative smile played on his lips as he handed it to Angel.

But the vampire hesitated. His gaze darkened, and he slowly shook his head.

— "I can't, sweetheart…" he murmured, his voice filled with softness and regret.

Lindsey frowned. His playful expression faded, replaced by a glimmer of bitterness, and he set the knife back on the table.

Seeing the disappointment in his lover’s eyes, Angel pulled him up to sit on the edge of the table and immediately held him close, cupping his face in his hands.

— "I'm sorry…" he said tenderly. "I… I just can’t… not with you being unable to say any safe word…"

Lindsey looked away briefly, frustration visible in his eyes. Angel, intent on wiping away any trace of sadness, continued with a gentle smile.

— "Maybe later," he uttered. "Give me some time… I know it's been over a year already, but… I’m still not comfortable with this kind of game. I couldn’t bear to hurt you… Not after everything you’ve been through."

A small, understanding smile appeared on Lindsey’s lips, and he nodded, accepting Angel’s words.

— "Will my bite be enough for now?" Angel added, determined to please his lover.

Lindsey nodded again, this time with a more marked smile. With a simple gesture, he drew a heart on Angel’s chest with his finger, his own way of saying "I love you" over the past year. Angel smiled back and pressed a kiss to his forehead before reaching behind Lindsey to grab the bowl.

— "I love you too," he whispered, then grinned. "Maybe I can still make this fun for you… Do we really need all this melted chocolate?"

Lindsey’s smile instantly turned mischievous. He unbuttoned Angel’s shirt in return, then dipped a finger into the bowl. With deliberate slowness, he traced a line down the vampire’s chest, the warmth of the chocolate contrasting with Angel’s cool skin. He lingered on his nipples, making the vampire groan. Then he leaned in, letting his tongue follow the sweet path, licking and sucking everywhere.

Angel let out a low growl when Lindsey pulled back. The chocolate traced dark streaks over his pale skin. He glanced down at the sweet mess Lindsey had left behind and flashed a grin.

— "Looks like you’re enjoying yourself…" he remarked, grabbing the back of Lindsey’s neck to pull him into a deep kiss.

Angel could barely taste the chocolate, but it didn’t matter. He relished far more in the warmth of Lindsey’s lips against his, the way his tongue sought his, his lover’s little gasps and his fingers drawing chocolate hearts on his chest.

With a smooth motion, he laid Lindsey back onto the table and lifted one of his legs. Grabbing the bowl in reach, he dipped two fingers into it, scooping up a generous amount of melted chocolate. His gaze locked onto Lindsey’s as he traced a slow line from the inside of his thigh to his straining erection.

Lindsey shivered, arching slightly under the touch. His lips parted in a silent sigh, his hand supporting his own leg to give Angel better access.

Without breaking eye contact, the vampire coated his fingers in another layer of chocolate. His hands glided between Lindsey’s thighs, and the man’s body tensed, welcoming, eager. Expertly, Angel prepared him, alternating between teasing strokes and deeper, firmer touches, until Lindsey fully surrendered beneath him, his head tilting back and his body arching against the table in a silent offering.

He was sublime like this — his body quivering under the onslaught of Angel’s fingers, his breath short and erratic, his lips parted in silent yet evocative pleasure. Angel devoured him with his eyes, fascinated by all those tiny reactions that had now replaced words and that he had learned to decode over the past year.

— "You’re beautiful…" Angel whispered, his gaze dark with desire, his own erection straining to the limit.

As soon as he felt Lindsey ready, he grabbed the bowl again and tilted it slightly, letting a thin stream of chocolate flow between his lover’s thighs, covering him in warmth and sweetness. A smile stretched across his lips as he saw Lindsey shiver under the new sensation.

Lindsey shot him a heated look before grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him in for a searing kiss. He wrapped his legs around Angel’s waist, drawing him closer in a silent plea.

Angel didn’t need to be asked twice, he was equally impatient. Pulling Lindsey to the edge of the table, he positioned himself and slowly pressed his cock into his lover’s warm entrance. The chocolate made the penetration smoother, and Angel was immediately overwhelmed by the heat surrounding him. He had barely begun to move when pleasure surged through him unexpectedly. After only a few thrusts, his body tensed in an uncontrollable spasm, and he spilled inside his lover.

Angel froze instantly, surprised by his own body’s precocious reaction, as Lindsey stared at him in disbelief, eyes wide.

— "Oh fuck… sorry, I… That’s the first time it has happened to me…" Angel apologized, utterly embarrassed.

Lindsey just stared at him in shock then, against all odds, he burst into a silent laughter.

— "Hey! Don’t laugh! I told you I’ve been wanting you all day…" Angel tried to defend himself.

But Lindsey had thrown his head back, struggling to stop laughing. With obvious malice, he patted Angel’s hip, then gave him a thumbs-up as if congratulating him before laughing even harder.

Completely mortified, Angel groaned and leaned down, capturing Lindsey’s lips in a kiss to silence his mocking.

When they finally pulled apart, Lindsey had regained some composure, but the amused glint in his eyes made it clear that he wouldn’t let Angel forget this embarrassing moment anytime soon.

The vampire shook his head, still ashamed.

— "Stop making fun of me and let me make it up to you," he declared, dipping a finger back into the chocolate bowl.

With a playful gesture, he smeared some on his lover’s nose, making him smile again. He attempted to pull back, but Lindsey tightened his legs around his waist, keeping him inside.

Giving Angel a provocative look, he stole the bowl and dipped a finger into it. Slowly, Lindsey brought it to his own lips, licking it off with deliberate sensuality.

Angel groaned, and Lindsey shuddered with pleasure feeling his lover’s cock swell inside him. Eyes closed, he savored the sensation for a moment, then reopened them to meet Angel’s gaze with silent intensity.

— "Keep going," Angel murmured, his hands gliding over Lindsey’s sides.

Encouraged, Lindsey repeated the gesture, playing with the chocolate, licking his fingers one by one. Then, under Angel’s intense gaze, he trailed his hand down his own chest, tracing sweet lines over his skin.

— "Caress yourself," Angel requested, his voice low and vibrating with want, his eyes never leaving his lover’s movements.

Obediently, Lindsey guided his fingers to his own erection. His movements were hesitant at first, but each stroke, each deliberate motion seemed to rekindle Angel’s desire, making him growl again. His cock was now fully hard inside Lindsey once more.

— "You’re incredible," Angel whispered before resuming a slow, hypnotic rhythm with his hips. "Keep touching yourself."

Lindsey blushed but obeyed. Hesitation gave way to boldness. Angel’s thrusts were slow and measured, accompanying his masturbation.

Gradually, their movements became more passionate, deeper. Leaning forward, Angel took one of Lindsey’s nipples between his lips, sucking gently, nibbling lightly. He knew it was one of his lover’s favorite spots, and Lindsey’s body arched in response as if seeking to get even closer.

Angel hesitated, his fangs grazing the skin. He had never used his bite in the sensitive spot before. Glancing to the side, his eyes landed on the knife still lying on the table and he reached for it.

Lindsey, eyes dark with anticipation, watched him intently, his breathing coming in short gasps.

Angel momentarily interrupted the movement of his hips. With extreme caution, he placed the tip of the knife against his lover’s nipple. Immediately, a shiver of pleasure ran through Lindsey as he felt the cold touch of the blade. His chest rose slightly in anticipation, his fingers clenching.

Angel applied just enough pressure to make a tiny cut that made Lindsey’s heart miss a beat. A fine bead of blood appeared, bright red against golden skin. Without wasting time, Angel leaned down, capturing the wounded nipple between his lips, sucking gently, tasting both blood and the lingering traces of chocolate.

Lindsey instantly tensed under the overwhelming sensation, his mouth parting in a silent cry. His hands gripped Angel’s hair, pressing him even tighter against his chest as his body arched into him.

Angel had resumed his back-and-forth movements and gradually increased his pace. The friction between them grew more intense, giving Lindsey wave after wave of pleasure, building with every thrust, every brush of Angel’s skin against his own. His fingers gripped the vampire’s back with desperate need, nails scraping over cool flesh. He lost himself in the feelings, and a powerful orgasm swept through him, leaving him breathless.

Angel followed him over the edge almost immediately, the sheer force of Lindsey’s release beneath him tipping the vampire into his own. A deep growl rumbled from his chest as he buried himself fully, surrendering to the pleasure as his second orgasm of the night crashed over him with unexpected intensity.

Placing a final kiss on Lindsey’s chest, Angel straightened up and gently withdrew. Climbing gingerly onto the table, he lay down against his lover, their legs tangled together.

Lindsey, now fully satisfied, ran a soft hand over Angel’s torso, drawing little hearts against his cool skin before gently applying his lips, licking and sucking away the traces of chocolate.

— "If you keep going like that, I’m going to have to fuck you on this table again…" Angel threatened, running his fingers tenderly through Lindsey’s shoulder-length hair.

Lindsey smirked and, with a teasing glance, reached for the bowl. Raising an eyebrow, he scooped up some chocolate and drew a question mark on Angel’s chest, followed by an arrow pointing down at his crotch, a quizzical and slightly mocking look on his face.

— "Yes, I’m still up for it!" Angel exclaimed, pretending to be offended by what Lindsey was implying.

They both burst into laughter, and Angel tightened his embrace, pressing a kiss to Lindsey’s forehead.

— "I think we’re going to need a shower and a serious cleanup," Angel murmured, eyeing the mess they had made in the small kitchen and the traces of chocolate still decorating their bodies.

Lindsey nodded, then straightened up to sit on the table. A mischievous glint in his eyes, he gestured toward the bathroom and then drew another arrow on Angel’s stomach.

— "You’re incorrigible…" the vampire retorted.

With supernatural speed, Angel stood up and grabbed Lindsey by the waist. In one swift motion, he tossed him over his shoulder like a sack, his arm firmly wrapped around his thighs to hold him in place.

Lindsey froze for a second, surprised as always by the vampire’s strength and speed. Then he started squirming in mock protest, wiggling more for show than for actual resistance. Unbothered, Angel simply gave him a playful smack on the ass.

— "Let’s see if this shower will actually be just a shower…" he teased before disappearing down the hallway toward the bathroom.

Chapter Text

Hello !

Just a quick note before you start:

Context should be enough, but since the characters communicate in different ways, and to make things easier to read, I’ve chosen to format them differently:

— "Spoken language"
"Signed language"
Written language

I hope this helps make the reading experience smoother!

I only have a basic knowledge of French sign language but none in American sign language, so I hope that everything is coherent. Please feel free to point out any mistakes in the comments.

The music echoed in Connor’s spacious apartment, where he had decided to celebrate his success. After a rough first year, complicated by the apocalypse they had eventually prevented, he was proud to have passed his second-year architecture exams along with his friends. And he hadn’t held back on celebrating the event. He laughed, a drink in hand, standing beside Holly, his girlfriend.

Angel watched him for a few moments, taking in the genuine brightness of his smile, enjoying seeing his son finally happy after everything he had been through. Laughter rang out, conversations overlapped, and the scent of a barbecue sizzling on the balcony mixed with the sweet aroma of cocktails.

Not feeling entirely at ease in the young crowd, Angel had let himself be drawn into a conversation with Connor’s adoptive parents, exchanging a few anecdotes while discreetly keeping an eye on Lindsey.

The latter remained on the sidelines, perched on the armrest of the couch, an untouched drink in hand. His gaze wandered absently across the room, never truly settling on anything. He wasn’t smiling. His expression was closed off, his shoulders slightly hunched.

Angel noticed immediately. He knew Lindsey too well not to see that he was somewhere else, locked behind that impenetrable mask he wore when something was eating away at him.

Taking advantage of a quiet moment, Angel made his way through the crowd and approached, resting a light hand on Lindsey’s shoulder, which made him flinch almost imperceptibly.

— "Everything okay?" Angel asked gently, knowing he might not get an immediate answer.

Lindsey gave a brief, fleeting smile—false, ephemeral—before simply nodding and looking away.

Angel hesitated. He didn’t want to push him, but he couldn’t hide his concern. Seeing that the vampire remained beside him, Lindsey sighed wearily. Setting his glass down on the coffee table to free his hands, he simply signed, "Tired. Too much work".

Angel didn’t believe that excuse for a second. He recognized the tension in Lindsey’s jaw, the shadow darkening his gaze. But he also knew that forcing him to share wouldn’t get him anywhere.

— "Okay. If you want to go home early, just come get me," he murmured.

Lindsey merely nodded, then pretended to focus on the conversation happening nearby. This time, Angel didn’t insist. With a slight squeeze on his shoulder, he gave him space, but not without one last worried glance.

He had barely stepped away when Connor approached and casually draped an arm over Lindsey’s shoulder.

— "You’ve got that thinking-too-much face…" he observed with a smirk.

Lindsey sighed and shrugged.

— "Come outside," Connor suggested, trying to distract him. "I need your opinion on my latest project, and if I tell Dad, he’s going to give me a whole speech about it."

Lindsey hesitated for a moment, then eventually got up and followed Connor toward the balcony, where several guests were already chatting.

Angel watched them go. Maybe Connor could cheer Lindsey up a little. They had always understood each other, even after their magical bond had been broken. Angel narrowed his eyes slightly, a little jealous of their relationship.

But whatever was troubling Lindsey, he would find out sooner or later.

---

But as the days passed, Lindsey’s mood didn’t improve. Quite the contrary, in fact.

He was irritable, on edge over the slightest thing. A file moved on his desk, a light left on, a misplaced object — every insignificant detail became an excuse for a silent but scathing outburst of annoyance. He slammed doors, shot dark looks, and when he signed to express his irritation, his gestures were sharp and tense.

At first, Angel tried to ignore these mood swings, giving him space, assuming it was just the aftermath of a bad day. But after several nights in such a heavy atmosphere, an oppressive anxiety settled over him. There was a more serious problem.

But when he tried to understand Lindsey and offer comfort, Lindsey refused to explain what was weighing on him. He was pushing him away, and Angel hated the distance creeping between them without even knowing why.

Gradually, the tension between them escalated and Angel finally snapped.

— "All right, Lindsey. You don’t want to explain? I’ll find someone who will."

He didn’t even wait to see his lover’s reaction before grabbing his jacket and storming out of the house. But as the door closed behind him, he heard something shatter against the wooden panel.

---

Lindsey’s law firm was certainly not as imposing as Wolfram & Hart, but it had now acquired a solid reputation. Angel hadn’t been there often. Nevertheless, the secretary at reception immediately recognized him.

— "Lindsey’s on leave today," she told him, surprised to see him.

— "I know. I’m not here to see him… Would Nate have a few minutes?" he asked.

— "Yes, I think so. He doesn’t have any more appointments until tomorrow," she replied, gesturing toward the door at the back.

When Angel stepped into Nate’s office, he found the man hunched over a file, looking both exhausted and concerned. When he lifted his head and saw Angel, he let out a heavy sigh.

— "Angel…" he greeted him. "I’m guessing this is about Lindsey."

Angel nodded, crossing his arms. He had expected Nate to figure out why he was there. Lindsey was probably just as unbearable at work as he was at home.

— "Sorry to bother you, but I don’t know what to do anymore… He has been on edge for days, and he refuses to explain what’s going on…" Angel said.

Nate ran a hand through his hair and sighed again before getting up to take a few steps. He looked so drained it was as if he had aged ten years since they had last seen each other.

— "I suspected as much," he replied hesitantly. "We’re going through … a rough time."

Angel waited, patient, sensing that Nate was searching for his words. When the lawyer finally spoke again, his voice was hoarse.

— "One of the criminals we got released a few months ago has… reoffended," he let out bitterly. "Lindsey was mainly in charge of the case, even though I was the one who pleaded in court."

A cold chill ran down Angel’s spine. He closed his eyes for a moment.

— "What happened?" he asked.

— "That bastard hijacked a school bus and drove it off a ravine…"

A glacial silence followed. Angel remained motionless, his features frozen, as Nate continued in a broken voice.

— "He died in the crash, but… There were about fifteen children on board… None of them survived."

Angel clenched his fists.

— "Fuck…"

Nate crossed his arms and nodded. Silence fell. Angel was trying to process what he had just learned, along with what it meant for Lindsey. Suddenly, Nate took a deep breath, as if trying to push away unwanted thoughts from his head.

— "These things happen sometimes…" he said in a voice that was meant to be calm. "I mean, that someone we defended reoffends. It happens. It’s the principle of being a defense attorney. But this… those kids… It’s just horrible… A brutal blow. If Lindsey and I hadn’t gotten that asshole released, those kids would still be alive. We’re responsible…We killed them…"

The bitterness in his voice was palpable. The vampire clenched his jaw. Of course Lindsey felt responsible. Guilty, even. And no doubt Angel’s own words had contributed to that. How many times had he disparaged his profession as a lawyer? How many times had he told him he should have chosen a different path? That these criminals deserved nothing but prison, or even worse? No wonder Lindsey hadn’t wanted to confide in him. Now, Angel regretted every single one of those remarks…

— "You’re not responsible," he finally replied, his voice hoarser than he would have liked.

Nate shrugged. Right now, no words could change his mind: they had chosen to defend a criminal, and those kids had paid the price. And he knew Lindsey felt exactly the same way.

---

Angel parked the car in the garage attached to the house and turned off the engine. He’d had the whole drive to think about what he was going to say, but nothing relevant had occurred to him. In the end, he got out of the car and headed straight to the living room.

As soon as he opened the door, his eyes fell on the shattered remains of a mug on the floor. The object Lindsey had thrown at the door earlier. He hadn’t even bothered to clean it up, being as meticulous as he usually was. That said a lot about his current state of mind.

With a tight throat, Angel stepped forward. He had hoped to find his lover a little calmer, but Lindsey’s eyes immediately flashed with anger the moment he saw him. A dark look, loaded with emotions too complex to be read in an instant. The tension in the room was almost suffocating.

— "Lindsey..." Angel began.

But he didn’t even have time to say anything else. Lindsey shot up from the couch.

"You went to see Nate," he signed abruptly.

It wasn’t a question. Angel simply nodded. Lindsey pressed his lips together and looked away for a second then glared at Angel again.

"You want to lecture me? Tell me I was a jerk for defending that bastard?" he added.

His gestures were sharp, and his eyes burned with anger.

Angel took less than a second to process Lindsey’s signs, which flew out at a speed that, just a few months ago, would have completely lost him. But he was understanding this language better and better, and he found himself feeling a surprising sense of pride at how fluently Lindsey used it, even in the heat of anger.

— "Is that what you think? That I’ll tell you you screwed up?" Angel finally replied, leaning against the table and crossing his arms.

Lindsey gave a bitter smirk and shrugged.

Angel didn’t continue right away. He knew that one poorly chosen word could inflame Lindsey’s anger even more, so he preferred to give him time to calm down. But his silence had the opposite effect.

"Say it, Angel!" Lindsey signed.

"Say it! Say it!"

His hands repeated the gesture violently, betraying a barely contained rage.

In a sudden movement, Lindsey grabbed the notebook he used to communicate in writing when needed and scrawled the same words in capital letters. SAY IT!!!

— "Lindsey, calm down. Listen to me..." Angel started.

— "Say it! Say it!" Lindsey silently screamed, throwing the notepad at Angel’s head in a burst of anger.

The vampire didn’t even try to dodge it. The notebook hit his cheek and then fell to the floor.

Angel clenched his jaw and opted for another tactic.

— "Will that make you feel better?" he asked.

Lindsey shrugged in a defiant gesture, his fists clenched.

— "Fine, I’ll say it if that’s what you want," Angel replied firmly. "I told you so. You shouldn’t have gotten that criminal released. It’s all your fault."

Tension followed, suffocating. Then Lindsey exploded. A silent scream escaped his lips as he grabbed the first object within reach and hurled it across the room. The glass shattered into a thousand pieces against the wall, splinters scattering across the floor. A second followed, then a third. Then suddenly, he turned away and planted his hands on the counter, his breath ragged with rage and despair, at his breaking point. He closed his eyes, trying to regain some composure, but his shoulders twitched under the strain.

Angel hesitated for only a fraction of a second before joining him. Without waiting for permission, he embraced him from behind, pulling him close. Lindsey stiffened in his arms but didn’t push him away.

— "You know I didn’t mean a word of what I just said, don’t you?" Angel murmured in his ear.

Lindsey didn’t react, but this time, his body seemed to relax slightly under Angel’s embrace.

— "Look at me, sweetheart."

With a soft but firm gesture, Angel turned him around so they were facing each other and placed his hand on Lindsey’s cheek, forcing him to look up. His gaze was clouded, haunted by a deep pain, a guilt that Angel knew all too well. The vampire spoke in a calm, reassuring voice.

— "Lindsey, my love, over these past two years, you’ve done an incredible job as a lawyer. And you know what? You even managed to make me respect a profession I used to despise. I’m sorry about all I said against your job. Trust me, you’ve helped a lot of people in the past few months."

"I freed a monster..." Lindsey signed, his movements still sharp with anger and despair.

— "Well yes, you did…" Angel admitted in a compassionate tone. "And knowing your clientele, he’s certainly not the only one, and he won’t be the last. But that was an act of good, of forgiveness. That’s what you fight for, right? Giving people second chances. Chances of redemption. Do you remember little Dylan? I attended his father’s trial. Did you see that kid’s smile when you managed to get his dad released? You truly gave that family a second chance."

Lindsey shook his head.

"And I destroyed fifteen others..."

His eyes were bright with unshed tears, and his hands trembled.

"I knew I was evil... I’m just evil, Angel..."

Angel felt his chest tighten and his hand pressed Lindsey's cheek more firmly.

— "No, no you’re not!" he exclaimed softly. "You’re a good man, my love. I’ve seen it. Everyone has seen it. You saved the world last year. And you’re still fighting beside us to protect people. I know guilt too well, and it warps everything, makes you believe things that aren’t true…"

Lindsey didn’t answer, merely shook his head.

Angel continued, trying to choose the right words even if he really wasn’t good at it.

— "Listen to me. You gave that man a chance. Sometimes, some of them deserve it. Others don’t. He didn’t deserve it. But you are not responsible for what he did with that second chance you gave him. Everyone makes their own choices. The blood is on his hands, not yours. And he won’t hurt anyone else anymore, he’s dead..."

"The children too..."

— "I know it’s devastating. The pain of those families is real, and it's okay to grieve for them. But unfortunately, we can’t change the past, sweetheart..." Angel murmured. "What we can do is make the future better. By making thoughtful choices. By continuing to help those we can. Heroes keep fighting. They always do."

"I’m not a hero… I’m nothing close to a hero…"

— "You’re strong. Strong enough to fight like one. And you’ve done good, Lindsey. More than you think. You are a good man, I assure you. There are children in Los Angeles who thank you every day for keeping their mother or father out of prison, people who are lucky to have had you as their lawyer. Don’t let one man take that away from you. Be proud of what you’ve accomplished."

Lindsey slowly nodded. He was still on the verge of tears. But he let Angel hug him and accepted his comfort for the first time since he had learned the news.

"I’m sorry," he signed, then raised his hand to Angel’s face, where a piece of glass had cut him.

— "Don’t worry. I’m tough. I can be your punching bag if you need one."

Chapter Text

The next morning, Angel woke up in a cold, empty bed. He got up and quickly left the bedroom, already guessing where he would find his partner.

As expected, Lindsey was downstairs, sitting in the living room, a half-empty cup of coffee resting on the table. He was staring at an invisible point in front of him, his features looking gaunt. He hadn’t bothered to get dressed beyond an old t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, a stark contrast to his usual habit of wearing a suit, perfectly put together.

Angel approached slowly and sat down beside him. He didn’t say anything at first. He knew Lindsey, knew that he couldn’t be rushed, that he needed time. Finally, he placed a hand on his thigh. A simple touch, a silent presence.

Lindsey reacted after a long moment. He blinked, as if coming back to reality, then turned his head toward Angel and signed:

"I’m tired."

A simple gesture, but heavy with meaning. Not just physically. Angel wrapped an arm around his shoulders, gently pulling him in before replying:

— "I know."

He wished he could tell him that he was there, that he could understand everything, but he also knew Lindsey wasn’t ready. He hadn’t really confided in him the day before. He had just let Angel comfort him without truly opening up. It was better than nothing, but not enough to ease what he was feeling.

Lindsey looked away and stared at his coffee cup, turning it between his fingers without bringing it to his lips. Angel guessed he wouldn’t be going to work today. That was for the best. It would give him time to rest. It was Friday, too, and Lindsey could use a long weekend.

— "Does Nate know you’re not coming in today?" Angel asked gently. "I can give him a call if you want."

Lindsey nodded but didn’t respond otherwise. Angel didn’t insist.

— "I’m staying with you," he added.

"No need, I’ll be fine," Lindsey replied with a few gestures.

— "No, I’m staying," Angel insisted. "Wesley will call me if there’s an emergency."

---

The weekend passed quietly. While Lindsey was no longer on edge, his mood remained somber. He had spent a few hours rehearsing with his band for their upcoming gig, letting himself drift away by the notes his fingers brought to life on his guitar. The music had given him a fleeting respite, but he still struggled to smile, and sometimes seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders without knowing what to do with it…

On Monday morning, dawn stretched slowly across the peaceful darkness of the bedroom. Silence reigned, broken only by the soft rustling of sheets as Lindsey turned onto his side. He had been awake for a while, staring at nothing, his mind trapped in a spiral of thoughts he couldn’t push away. Now that the storm of anger had calmed, all that remained was a heavy, insidious, persistent weight.

He wished he was the kind of person who could easily compartmentalize, who filed their mistakes away in locked drawers and never thought about them again. But he had never been like that. Even back when he worked for Wolfram & Hart, even when he pretended not to care about the consequences, some part of him took the toll of every choice, every decision, every compromise. It had just been easier to bury them beneath layers of ambition and misplaced pride.

Today, he no longer had those masks to protect himself. And right now, he saw that more as a curse than a blessing.

He felt movement behind him, and the mattress dipped slightly as Angel shifted. The vampire’s cold hand came to rest on his shoulder, slowly sliding down his arm. A simple touch. Angel didn’t ask unnecessary questions, he didn’t insist. He was just there.

— "I love you," he murmured into his ear.

Lindsey closed his eyes briefly, taking a deep breath before turning to face him. He met Angel’s gaze in the dim light.

"I love you too," he replied by making a heart with his hands. Then, he added, "I’m fine," even though he knew it wasn’t completely true.

Angel raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced.

— "You usually lie better than that, my sweet ex-evil lawyer," he murmured.

"I’m better," Lindsey corrected, more honestly.

— "Don’t brood too much, that’s my job," Angel joked gently, making his partner smile.

Lindsey didn’t want to get bogged down. He didn’t want to spend the day dwelling on things that couldn’t be changed. He knew himself well enough to know that if he let himself slide too far, he might make bad decisions. And that would be even worse.

After a brief hug, he got up and headed for the bathroom, preparing for his day at the office, his throat tight with a mix of doubt and longing for normalcy. Work was a constant, he needed it. But an insidious fear lingered. Because Angel was right: this wasn’t the first recidivist criminal he had defended, and it wouldn’t be the last.

Angel watched him. A part of him wanted to hold him back, to tell him he didn’t have to get up, that he didn’t have to go back to work right away, that he could take a few more days off. But he understood. He, too, lived with ghosts. He, too, knew that sometimes, the best you could do was keep moving forward.

When Angel entered the kitchen a few minutes later, Lindsey was already dressed in a suit, a cup of coffee in hand. He didn’t even look up when he sensed his presence. Angel observed his face, the dark circles under his eyes, the stiffness in his posture. He opened his mouth to say something, but Lindsey was faster.

"I’m going to the office," he signed.

Angel frowned.

— "Lindsey…"

But Lindsey gave him a pleading look. He didn’t want to have this conversation. He didn’t want Angel to tell him he wasn’t up to working. Maybe he wasn’t. But staying here, alone with his thoughts, would be far worse. He had been pacing all weekend; now, he needed action.

Angel shook his head and stepped closer.

— "I know. I know you need normalcy, to take your mind off things, too. But just promise me you’ll text me if you feel bad, okay?"

Lindsey nodded in agreement.

— "I’ll pick you up tonight," the vampire added in a tender voice, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

---

Angel arrived at the office just after sunset. Nate was standing at the secretary’s desk, engaged in conversation about the next day’s schedule. Jacket on, file in hand, he seemed to be on his way out.

When Angel entered, he looked up and walked toward him.

— "Lindsey is finishing up a file, but he should be ready in a few minutes. Want some coffee?" he offered.

Angel nodded, and Nate led him to the coffee machine a little further away.

— "That day off seems to have done Lindsey some good…" the lawyer began.

— "Yeah. He accepted a bit of comfort, but… guilt isn’t a wound that simply fades away… Anyway, I don’t think he’s wrong to get back to work right away: he needed to take his mind off things."

Nate nodded but remained silent.

— "What about you?" Angel asked after a slightly awkward pause.

The lawyer raised an eyebrow.

— "Me?"

— "You don’t look much better."

The lawyer let out a mirthless laugh.

— "Of course not. You think I’m sleeping any better than he is? I feel just as responsible, Angel. We are partners. It wasn’t just his case. It was mine too. I was the one who pleaded in court. That guy walked free because of both of us…"

Angel could see the fatigue in his eyes, the guilt that weighed as heavily on his shoulders as it did on Lindsey’s. But he didn’t try to contradict him. He knew that, in both their minds, guilt was inevitable. Still, he wanted at least Nate to understand that they hadn’t intended this tragedy.

— "You did your job, what you thought was right," he tried to reassure him. "Maybe it was a mistake… but you couldn’t have foreseen this. And you can’t let it consume you."

Nate gave a sad smile.

— "Easier said than done… Damn it, Angel. Fifteen kids…"

— "I know. And I understand. More than you can imagine, Nate. But dwelling on it won’t bring them back."

Nate just nodded, not particularly convinced. Checking his watch, he frowned and quickly took his leave, avoiding the conversation before it could get any darker.

Left alone in the lobby, Angel hesitated. His gaze instinctively drifted to Lindsey’s office door. He stared at it for a few minutes before stepping forward. Knocking lightly on the wood, he peeked inside.

Immediately, Lindsey looked up, a small smile lighting up his face when he saw Angel. He looked tired, but at the same time, a little better. His laptop was open in front of him, surrounded by several open folders and documents.

"I’m almost done," he signed.

— "Can I wait here, or would you prefer me to stay in the hall?" Angel asked.

With a simple gesture, Lindsey motioned for Angel to sit in the chair in front of his desk.

The vampire had rarely seen his partner at work. Occasionally, Lindsey had brought files home, but he usually just read through them or made notes. Here, he seemed fully immersed in writing something, typing on the keyboard with confidence and professionalism, his eyes following the text on the screen.

After a few minutes, Lindsey stopped and yawned.

— "Finished?" Angel asked.

Lindsey confirmed. He sent his document to print, then shut down his computer and stood up, gathering his things before following Angel into the hall.

Immediately, the vampire’s hand found his, and Lindsey smiled at the spontaneous gesture, which brought him more comfort than he would have expected.

The vampire returned his smile and, in one simple motion, pulled him close for a kiss, eliciting a chuckle from the receptionist.

Lindsey blushed at the public display of affection.

"Let’s go home," he signed simply.

---

The days passed, punctuated by a fragile routine. Lindsey seemed to have regained a semblance of stability, though at times, a veil clouded his eyes, as if a shadow refused to leave him. Like any healing process, there were ups and downs.

That evening, when Angel stepped through the apartment door, he immediately sensed that something had changed. Lindsey was sitting in the living room, his notebook resting on his lap. The vampire had learned sign language as he went along, so Lindsey rarely communicated with him through writing, except for matters of great importance, when he wanted to be perfectly understood. As soon as Angel entered, he lifted it to eye level, revealing a page with a message, written in large type:

We need to ‘talk’.

Angel raised an eyebrow, letting the door close behind him with a discreet click.

— "Sounds serious…" he remarked, sitting beside him on the couch.

Lindsey simply nodded and turned the page, revealing a carefully prepared new message.

What would you say if I told you I wanted to give up my job as a lawyer to pursue a full-time career as a guitarist?

Angel stared at the written words for a moment before looking up at Lindsey.

— "Well… You know I’ll support you. No matter what choice you make. So…" He paused, choosing his words carefully. "I’d say it’s a great idea, as long as you’re making the decision for the right reasons."

Lindsey rolled his eyes. He had gotten very good at that since he had lost his voice. Angel smiled and wrapped an arm around his shoulders to comfort him.

What if I became a civil attorney instead? Lindsey wrote, looking a little desperate.

— "You can. Of course you can," Angel agreed. "But is that really what you want? There’s nothing wrong with being a defense attorney. I know it took me a long time to understand that, but I’m sure of it now. And I regret everything I ever said about it."

— "I know you still feel responsible for what happened," the vampire continued softly. "But becoming a guitarist or a civil attorney isn’t going to make that guilt disappear."

Lindsey let out a heavy sigh, lowering his gaze to his notebook. Angel was right, of course. It seemed there was no real solution except to move forward. But before he could reply, Angel tapped the notebook lightly.

— "Since you wrote ‘We need to talk’… can I make a suggestion?" he asked with a hesitant smile.

Lindsey lifted a hand in a broad gesture, giving him the floor.

A brief silence settled between them as Angel gathered his thoughts. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, almost fragile.

— "Well… here’s the thing," Angel began, his eyes fixed on an invisible point ahead. "I’ve been thinking for a while… Since you lost your voice and we all nearly died because of the Devil. And… and I want more, Lindsey."

Frowning, Lindsey made a confused face, unsure of where Angel was going with this.

The vampire continued in a gentle voice:

— "I want to go to the beach with you."

An unexpected silence fell over the room. Lindsey blinked, caught off guard. He had expected anything… except that. His eyes searched Angel’s, trying to decipher the true meaning behind those words. But there was nothing but sincerity in the vampire's gaze.

— "I want to go to the beach and play volleyball. Enjoy a nice restaurant, steal food from your plate. Taste your cooking. Count my gray hairs with you." He paused, locking eyes with his partner. Now, there was no more hesitation in his voice. "I want to be human, Lindsey."

Lindsey stared at him intensely, taken aback. Angel had never talked about this before. Immediately, images formed in his mind: Angel in the sunlight in their small garden, or sitting on a terrace sharing ice cream together, Angel older too, with wrinkles around his eyes, and gray hair.

The vampire, a bit nervous as Lindsey remained lost in thought, resumed, his voice once again uncertain.

— "I… I know things are hard for you right now after what happened at work. Maybe you need some rest, or quiet… But… But maybe a change of scenery would do you good?" He hesitated for a brief moment, knowing what he was about to propose might change everything. "So, I was thinking… if you were willing to come with me on this quest to regain my humanity, maybe we could take a break from work and… go away for a while? Travel. See the world. Just you and me. What do you think?"

Lindsey, his notebook still in hand, remained motionless for a few seconds. Finally, he looked up at Angel, his eyes shining with restrained emotion. Without thinking, his hand lifted, a little hesitantly, before grazing Angel’s face. The cold skin beneath his palm sent a shiver through him. His fingers slowly caressed Angel’s cheek, as if making sure he was truly there, very real, and that his words weren’t just a fleeting illusion.

Angel didn’t move, his eyes locked onto Lindsey’s with silent intensity. That simple touch seemed to suspend time around them.

When Lindsey finally withdrew his hand, he nodded firmly, his gaze never leaving the vampire’s. A silent answer, but more eloquent than any words.

— "It will be difficult and dangerous…" Angel warned. "And inconvenient: we won’t be able to use the sewers for long distances, and we’ll have to travel far, meet dangerous people…"

"I don’t care," Lindsey signed firmly. "I’m coming."

A wide smile spread across Angel’s face. He watched Lindsey as he fully realized what was involved. He had no idea how long this quest would take. He didn’t even know if it had a real chance of succeeding.

Chapter Text

Angel had settled into his office, his gaze fixed on the computer screen without really seeing it. His mind was elsewhere, wandering between feverish anticipation and insidious doubts.

Announcing their departure to Wesley and Sienna had made the whole plan feel much more real than he’d expected. The words had echoed through the offices of Angel Investigations, gaining a weight he hadn’t anticipated. When Angel had explained his intentions, a heavy silence had followed. Sienna had crossed her arms over her chest, her expression flickering between surprise and concern.

— "Are you sure about this?" she had asked cautiously. "That’s a pretty big project…"

Angel had nodded, feeling the weight of his decision grow heavier under the young woman’s worried gaze.

Wesley, for his part, had simply nodded, adjusting his glasses, his expression hard to read.

— "It’s an important, profound quest," he had said. "I understand why you want to pursue it. But be careful, it’s going to be dangerous. We’re talking about exploring the origins of vampirism and dealing with forces that are connected to real evil. You’ll both have to be very cautious, but I hope you find what you’re looking for."

There had been a hint of reservation in his voice, but also a deep respect for Angel’s choice.

Sienna had sighed, then admitted with a smile:

— "We’re going to miss you. But if this is what you want… then I’m happy for you."

The support of his colleagues and friends had warmed something within Angel, even though their worries still echoed in his mind.

On his side, Lindsey had immediately approved the idea, without any hesitation. They’d had time to talk it over again several times since their initial conversation and were planning to leave fairly quickly, just enough time to get their current affairs in order and to plan the first stages of their journey. Lindsey actually seemed genuinely excited. He’d taken care of telling Connor, and although the latter had been surprised at first, he’d quickly shown his support.

So why did Angel still feel a knot of unease in his stomach?

It was in that ambivalent state of mind that he had plunged himself into research, collecting everything he could find about vampirism, recalling old contacts from his days as Angelus, people who might be able to help them, and drafting hypotheses about the places where they might find answers. All those preparations were making the plan feel even more real.

He had quickly ruled out some of the more obvious paths. The Mohra demons, whose blood had the power to heal most things, including vampirism, had now been eradicated, as far as he knew. As for the resurrection ritual used by Wolfram & Hart to bring back Darla, it was not only far too dangerous but it had also left her dying of syphilis, a cruel twist of fate Angel didn’t want to experience himself. He knew he would have to look elsewhere, follow fainter trails, older myths, whispers buried in forgotten corners of the world.

Angel found himself opening a world map on his screen. Europe, Asia, Africa… so many possibilities. He knew where to start—he already had a few leads—but the more he tried to rationalize an itinerary, the more obstacles popped into his mind.

Traveling far away. Finding places to stay in sometimes remote areas. Making sure they (and especially Lindsey) were safe in a world he had never explored as a human, but always as a hunter.

On top of that came deeper doubts, about the very purpose of this quest, even though it was something he had wanted for months. Questions kept piling up in his mind. If he became human again, would he still be able to protect the people he loved? Would he still be capable of being a ‘champion’? And above all… what if Lindsey wouldn’t love the man he would become?

He ran a hand over his face, trying to organize the chaos in his head. His gaze fell on a notebook lying on the edge of the desk. The night before, Lindsey had come with them to destroy a vampire nest they had been tracking for days, and he had obviously forgotten his notebook. Angel reached out and opened it almost mechanically. A few music chords scribbled down shared the page with snatches of conversation. He flipped through the pages, a slight smile on his lips as he rediscovered some exchanges they had shared. The first pages were quite full: back then, neither of them was fluent in sign language the way they were now. The more recent pages only held a few sentences, sometimes just single words, more complex vocabulary. Then, he came across the one that had changed everything:

We need to ‘talk’.

Angel froze, remembering that evening perfectly. He slowly turned the page, landing on the next one, the one where Lindsey had written:

What would you say if I told you I wanted to give up my job as a lawyer to pursue a full-time career as a guitarist?

The words echoed in him, bringing to the surface the decision they had made together that evening after Angel confessed his wish to become human again. He remembered Lindsey’s reaction: the surprise on his face, followed by a nod, firm, determined, eager even. And the relief he himself had felt at seeing the unwavering support his partner offered in this slightly insane project.

Angel closed the notebook slowly. This journey would be an ordeal for them, too. A plunge into the unknown. A way to see if their relationship was as strong as they believed.

---

— "So? Got your bags ready?" Connor asked Lindsey with a smile as he sipped his coffee.

The afternoon was winding down, and they were sitting on a terrace, enjoying the June sunshine that bathed the city in a golden light. The laughter and chatter of passersby created a soothing background noise, but in Lindsey’s mind, thoughts were swirling.

He shook his head in response to Connor. No, his bags weren’t ready. Departure was supposed to be in a few days, but he couldn’t bring himself to start packing. Partly because he didn’t really know what he should bring, but also because, as the days passed, some doubts had started to clutter his mind. While he was mostly happy to set aside his job as a lawyer for now, he couldn’t help but imagine Angel as a human, wondering how much it might change him. And apparently, that was something Connor was also concerned about…

— "Do you think it’s really possible?" he asked. "I mean, for my father to become human again?"

Lindsey shrugged, then lifted his hands to sign:

“I’ve seen enough in this world to believe anything’s possible…”

Connor narrowed his eyes, watching his gestures closely. He didn’t have the same fluency with sign language as Angel did, but he got the gist.

— "Yeah, true," he replied with a sigh, his gaze drifting to some far-off point beyond the busy street.

Silence fell again, letting Lindsey’s thoughts wander. The same images rose in his mind: Angel, sitting in the sunlight in their little garden, his features relaxed; Angel, sharing a real meal with him, savoring every bite, discovering flavors he’d never truly experienced as a vampire; Angel, making love to him, tenderly, without bite, without blood, as a human.

Lindsey straightened slightly, shaking his head to banish the thoughts. He wasn’t sure if those visions reassured him or frightened him even more.

— "Do you think this will change him?" Connor asked again, snapping Lindsey back to reality. "Honestly, can you really picture him as human? That means he could get colds, backaches, get his ass kicked by just about anyone… He’d be complaining all the time, it’d be unbearable!"

Lindsey couldn’t help but laugh, picturing Angel this time grumbling about seasonal flu or whining about lumbago.

— "And on the contrary… What if he becomes hyper-cheerful, can you imagine?" Connor added with mock horror as he imagined all these possible changes. "Honestly, I think that might be even worse…"

Lindsey smiled. Yes, Angel would change. There was no doubt about that. Maybe not in the ways Connor imagined, but he would change. Lindsey briefly wondered whether he should share his own fears with the younger man. What if, by becoming human, Angel left behind more than just his fangs, his strength, and his supernatural resilience?
What about their love?

---

Three suitcases were piled up in the entryway. What they had decided to bring. They didn’t know how long the journey would last, so they’d packed enough to get by, but without overloading themselves.

In the living room, Lindsey had been staring at his guitar for a good ten minutes. All day long, he had been hesitating. Several times, he’d set it down beside the suitcases, only to bring it back into the living room a little later. A worried expression on his face, he turned to Angel.

"Do you think I should bring it?" he asked with a hesitant gesture.

— "If you want. There’s still room in the trunk. But just remember this trip isn’t exactly going to be a walk in the park…"

Lindsey sighed. That was exactly what had been nagging at him ever since he’d started packing: bringing things he cared about, at the risk of losing or damaging them; or leaving them here, safe, but far from him. He looked at his guitar again. He knew he would need music. He couldn’t do without it. And the radio definitely wouldn’t be enough...

He sat down on the couch and lightly ran his fingers across the strings. The guitar was nearly fifteen years old. It had followed him everywhere, through the worst times and the best. It was his most precious possession. His heart tightened as he imagined it broken or lost somewhere on the road.

Without a word, Angel came to sit beside him. He gently rested his hand on his partner’s thigh, a simple but comforting gesture. He understood well the dilemma Lindsey was facing.

— "Do you want us to buy another one?" he offered.

Lindsey looked up at him, surprised by the suggestion.

— "That way, you will be able to play whenever you want, and you can leave this one here, safe," Angel clarified.

"Isn’t it a bit ridiculous to buy another one when I already have this one?" Lindsey signed.

Angel gave him a faint smile.

— "Lindsey, we can afford it. That's what savings are for: important things like your music…" he said gently.

A smile crossed Lindsey’s lips. He signed a simple "Thank you", then slid his fingers between Angel’s, gently squeezing his hand. The warmth of his fingers, the reassuring presence… it was enough to ease his doubts.

Picking his guitar back up, he began to play a ballad. Soft, melancholic notes rose in the living room. It was their last night before the departure. Everything was nearly ready. It would be a quiet evening. Beside him, Angel had taken out a sketchpad and a pencil. It was a hobby Lindsey had discovered when they had moved in together, and now many of Angel’s drawings decorated the walls of their home. With a light touch, the vampire traced the lines of their garden, illuminated by the outdoor lantern. Every line seemed to carry the same care that Lindsey poured into his chords. When they returned, maybe Angel would be able to walk through that garden in the daylight, by Lindsey’s side. At least, he hoped so.

---

Just before dawn, Angel loaded the three suitcases into his car. They still had some time as they planned to leave in the morning: the tinted windows would let them travel under the sunlight to their first stop: Monterey. After closing the trunk, Angel couldn’t resist stepping outside for a few minutes before joining Lindsey in the living room.

The preparations of the past few days hadn’t left him much time to think. And maybe that was for the best. Because now that the departure was truly imminent, doubts were creeping back in, nagging, familiar. Was he making the right choice? Would he still be able to protect the people he loved if he became human? Would Lindsey still love him?

Trying to gather his thoughts, Angel took a few steps down the street. Everything felt so calm at this hour. He looked up at the sky. Dawn was approaching; he needed to go back inside. He walked back toward the house in silence, savoring the peaceful moments. But as soon as he stepped in the garage, a shiver ran down his spine. There was someone here...

Immediately, he turned around, on high alert.

A man stood there, in the shadows of the garage, his face marked by the years but his eyes sharp and piercing.

— "Who are you? What are you doing in my house?" growled Angel, his voice threatening as he positioned himself between the intruder and the door leading into the house.

The man raised his hands in a gesture of peace. He looked worn, tired. Yet when he spoke, his voice was steady, and his words left Angel in shock.

— "I’ve come to stop you from making the biggest mistake of your life," he said calmly.

Angel looked at him in confusion, but the man continued.

— "You did it," he said. "You became human again. I’m you. From the future."

Silence fell, thick and heavy. Angel stared at him, disbelief written all over his face.

— "You’re me?" he repeated.

He looked at the man. Indeed, he could see a certain resemblance. Or at least, he thought so. But how could he be sure? After all, he couldn’t even see his own reflection in a mirror.

— "What do you mean, ‘the biggest mistake of my life’?" Angel asked, still ready to pounce at the slightest sign of hostility.

The man sighed, his face shadowed by an expression of deep regret.

— "I can show you, if you want," he simply replied, holding out what looked like a violet crystal ball.

Angel hesitated. Every instinct in him screamed to be cautious. But something in the man’s voice, in his eyes, unsettled him. He stepped forward slowly, with his hand outstretched, ready to retreat at the first suspicious movement. Carefully, he placed his hand on the small translucent sphere.

Immediately, images flooded his mind, vivid, as if he were living the events himself. He could hear, smell, feel. All overwhelming his senses.

A first shock froze him. A struggle was unfolding just feet away, violent, desperate. A figure was pinned against the brick wall, fingers clawing at the attacker's shoulders. It was dark in the alley, but there was no mistaking what was happening. The vampire held his prey tightly, feeding. Sated, he finally let the body crumple to the ground like discarded waste. Angel didn’t see the victim’s face, just long brown hair, and a bloodied jacket with a company logo, torn in places. The victim had fought back. In vain. It was then, as the vampire lifted his face to the night sky in sickening satisfaction, that the moonlight revealed his features.

The world seemed to tilt beneath Angel. No, he thought. Not Gunn.

Gunn's face was contorted with a smirk, fangs still dripping with blood and his eyes were gleaming with predatory satisfaction. He ran his tongue slowly across his bloodied lips, savoring the taste with an expression of pure ecstasy that was utterly foreign to the friend Angel had known.

But before Angel could even begin to process it, a sound made him turn his attention to the alley’s entrance.

Sienna. She was staring at the bloodless body at Gunn’s feet. Tears streamed down her face, carving trails through her cheeks. She wasn't moving—couldn't move—as if her body had shut down under the weight of what she was witnessing.

Even though it was just a vision and he knew she couldn’t hear him, Angel couldn’t help but shout at her.

— "Run! Run, Sienna! Move!"

But she remained paralyzed, watching as Gunn slowly turned toward her. A calculated stalk of a hunter approaching a prey who couldn’t defend herself. Angel felt his throat tighten as the helplessness invaded him.

Then, without warning, the scene faded, abruptly replaced by another…

Connor, standing on the porch of a small house. Rain poured down around him, soaking through his jacket, but he seemed not to notice or care. In front of him, Holly, his girlfriend for a few months. But there, she looked older. Angel guessed it was their house. He stepped forward, but he didn’t need to get too close to hear. Her face contorted with anger and disgust, Holly was screaming. Shouting, even.

— "You’re a monster! A fucking monster! You, your father, your whole family! Get out and never come back! Don’t ever try to see your daughter again! Go to hell, you fucking monster!"

The door slammed shut, leaving Connor standing outside. He didn't move, didn't flinch, just stood there as rain mixed with tears on his face, staring at the closed door as if hoping it might open again.

Again, the scene shifted, reforming into Wesley's apartment.

Angel almost didn't recognize it at first. Books that had once been meticulously organized now lay scattered across the floor next to dirty clothes. Empty bottles—whiskey, bourbon, vodka—covered nearly every surface, some knocked over, their remaining contents staining documents beneath them.

The former watcher looked just like his home: destroyed. His cheeks were sunken, his skin sallow and unhealthy. Dark circles hung beneath unfocused eyes that stared at nothing. His hand trembled violently as he lifted a glass to his lips, spilling half its contents down his unshaven chin. Beside his chair, alongside more empty bottles, lay several small plastic bags containing white powder, and a syringe balanced precariously on the arm of the chair.

For agonizing minutes, Angel remained frozen, unable to look away, trying to understand how things had ended up this way. What did I miss? he thought, fists clenched. The former watcher didn't move, except to occasionally take another trembling sip then reach for a syringe.

Angel squeezed his eyes shut, unable to bear watching Wesley inject himself.

Fear crept in. He didn’t want to see more. Because he already knew what was coming next. Scene after scene, the visions had followed. But none had shown Lindsey yet…

After what felt like an eternity, Angel finally forced himself to look again.

Lindsey was there, right in front of him.

Relief washed over him instantly: Lindsey was alive. Older, tired, but he had that familiar little smile that Angel knew so well, the one he used when pretending to be strong. For a moment, the vampire felt like he was waking from a bad dream.

Then Angel's gaze dropped lower and he saw the crutch and horror gripped him.

Where Lindsey's right leg should have been, there was nothing. Just a void. His trouser leg was pinned above the knee. He was struggling forward, his body tilted awkwardly to compensate for the missing limb, leaning on Connor for support.

The question hammered through Angel's mind.

Why Connor? Why not me? he thought. Why am I not in any of these scenes?

He barely had time to ask himself before the image changed again.

Lindsey was crying, alone on the sofa in their living room. Angel recognized the walls, the furniture - they were still home. Grabbing his crutch, Lindsey tried to get up, to reach something on the kitchen counter. But his body failed him and he stumbled, falling heavily to the floor. He lay there, curled up, clutching his amputated leg, tears running down his face.

Why is he alone?

The thought pounded in Angel’s head.

Why the hell am I not there to help him, to comfort him?

The scene shifted.

And Angel finally saw himself.

An older Angel, but not as old as the man now in the garage. This thirty-something Angel towered over Lindsey, who sat on a bed with a prosthetic leg lying discarded on the floor.

— "I gave up everything for you!" was that Angel screaming, his face distorted by anger. "EVERYTHING! My strength, my immortality, my purpose! And for what? A cripple who refuses to even try to wear his damn prosthesis???"

Lindsey's face crumpled, tears streaming down his cheeks as that Angel continued to berate him, each word more vicious than the last. There was no more love in those angry eyes.

Chapter Text

The vision vanished abruptly, leaving Angel in crushing silence. The darkness of the garage seemed to close in on him, heavy and oppressive. He remained frozen, unable to move. The sphere had slipped from his hands, rolling across the floor without him noticing.

All he could still see were Lindsey’s tears.

— "Our humanity had a price, Angel…" the old man murmured in a hoarse voice. "A priceless one… The safety and happiness of our loved ones… Lindsey’s happiness… As a human, you won’t be able to protect any of them."

Angel didn’t answer, still in shock. He no longer saw the garage, or the man in front of him. Only Lindsey, broken, maimed, crying.

The old man stepped closer, his hunched silhouette faintly outlined in the dimness.

— "If you care about them… about him…" he continued, his voice harder now, "then you know what you have to do. He’s better off without you. Let him live far from you. Because by staying by his side, you condemn him. You condemn them all. Leave."

Angel felt his throat tighten painfully. The thought of abandoning Lindsey tore at him, but the images kept flashing before his eyes, mercilessly. He lowered his head. He had no other choice. He couldn’t bear the idea that any of them might suffer because of him.

Without a word, he turned on his heels. His footsteps echoed on the concrete, heavy with the weight of his decision. He got into the car, his hands trembling as he slid the key into the ignition. The engine gave a low growl, breaking the silence of the night.

He had barely left the driveway when the music started playing automatically. A chill ran down Angel’s spine. It was the playlist Lindsey had prepared for their journey. That journey, which was both so promising and a little nerve-wracking, would never happen. Angel tightened his grip on the steering wheel, overwhelmed by the cruel irony of the situation.

The road stretched out before him, blurred, as he drove aimlessly, his thoughts drifting to the faces now haunting his mind. Sienna, frozen in a dark alley. Gunn, his face twisted by vampirism. Connor, standing alone in front of that house. Wesley, drowned in alcohol. And Lindsey… Lindsey in tears. And those words… those words that future Angel was screaming at him… They went round and round in his head…

Then suddenly, Lindsey’s voice echoed inside the car.

Angel slammed the brakes, his vampire reflexes keeping him from losing control of the vehicle. He remained frozen for a moment. Then he turned his head toward the stereo. The small USB drive plugged in looked ordinary, almost insignificant. And yet, Lindsey’s voice came from it. His voice. Deep, soft, tinged by that raw emotion Angel had loved.

"Well, I know they say all good things
Must come to some kind of ending
We were so damn good, I guess we never stood a chance
Go on and find what you've been missin'
And when that highway’s tired of listenin'
You'll see I'm not that easy to forget."

Since losing his voice, Lindsey had never listened to his old recordings again. Neither had Angel. So it was the first time in over a year that he heard his voice again. The shock was abysmal.

Why had Lindsey included this song in his playlist?

Angel didn’t have time to ask himself more questions, as the chorus of "Thinking of You" was already filling the car, enveloping Angel like a shroud.

"And when a new moon shines through your window
Or you hear a sad song on the radio
And you don't know why, but you just stop to cry
Or you're driving 'round on a sunny day
And out of nowhere comes the pouring rain
And a memory hits you right out of the blue
That's just me thinking of you."

Lindsey had written this song at the beginning of their relationship, when they had been forced to take a break to fix Angel’s soul. But now, the lyrics carried a whole different meaning. Angel felt his throat tighten again. The words struck him just as deeply as then. He lowered his head, his hands clenched on the wheel.

"I'm not gonna try to stop you
Doesn't mean that I don't want to
If I know you, you've already made up your mind
So go on and go if you're really leaving
Put a million miles between us
But you'll still feel me like I'm right there at your side."

His eyes blurred with tears, accompanied by a dull, crushing pain. He hit the steering wheel, once, then again, as if violence could chase away grief.

"And I'm thinkin' about the road you're on
I'm thinkin' about you coming home
I'm wondering if you got your radio on
And when you find your way to another town
And someone tries to lay you down
And a feelin' hits you right out of the blue
It's me thinking of you
It's just me… thinking of you."

Angel abruptly turned off the engine, and silence returned, heavy. His fingers remained frozen on the key, his gaze lost. The stillness in the car seemed to scream louder than the song itself, a deafening void in which Lindsey’s last lyric still echoed.

It’s just me thinking of you.

Angel closed his eyes. That silence reflected Lindsey’s absence.

And Angel knew he’d never be able to live with it.

He had made a promise. No more lies.

Running away wasn’t the solution. Not this time. Lindsey deserved the truth, no matter how brutal. He deserved to understand. He deserved more than emptiness and memories.

In a sudden movement, Angel restarted the engine. The car almost jumped, as if responding to his sudden resolve. The way back seemed to pass in half the time. He had only one goal in mind: to return home. To return to Lindsey.

Soon, the familiar silhouette of their house appeared. He parked in the garage, which was still open, and got out of the car without even closing the door, rushing toward the living room.

Lindsey was there. Standing. With two legs.

Angel froze on the doorway. He didn’t know where to begin. Words caught in his throat. Lindsey was waiting for him, looking both furious and worried.

"Where were you?" he signed quickly.

Angel licked his lips, his voice hoarse when it finally came out.

— "I… I almost left."

Lindsey blinked, incomprehension marking his face.

Angel closed the door behind him.

— "I almost left… without explaining." His voice trembled. "But I heard your song. And I couldn’t do that. I promised you…"

Lindsey frowned, his jaw contracting. His eyes, shining with emotion, were fixed on Angel with a painful intensity.

Angel took a step toward him.

— "I’ve been shown… things. Visions of the future. Where everything falls apart. Where…" He stopped for a moment, unable to continue. "Where you suffer because of me. Where I…"

His voice broke, and Lindsey approached, slowly. It was the first time he had seen such distress in his partner’s eyes. With a tender gesture, he pulled him in, and they sat down on the couch together.

"Explain," Lindsey signed simply, before wrapping a comforting arm around Angel’s shoulders.

The vampire struggled to begin, but eventually, he opened up. He revealed everything. About that Angel from the future, the horrifying visions. Gunn. Sienna and that unknown victim. Connor. And that granddaughter whose name he didn’t even know. Wesley. Each word seemed to weigh a ton, but he managed to say them. Yet when it came time to talk about the vision of Lindsey’s future, his voice broke again.

Silence fell, thick, almost suffocating. Angel stared at an invisible point in front of him, his jaw clenched, unable to put into words what was burning on his lips.

"Take your time," Lindsey advised, running a hand gently over his partner’s face.

Their eyes met. In Lindsey’s gaze, Angel saw only love and support, a stark contrast to the pain he had seen in the eyes of the Lindsey from the future. And that was too much for the vampire. His face fell apart, and the tears he had been holding back for too long finally began to flow.

Lindsey froze for a second, shocked to see Angel cry. It was the first time he had seen him like this. Broken, vulnerable, fragile.

Immediately, he took him in his arms, holding him as tightly as he could. His hands slid over his back and, almost unconsciously, he began tracing little hearts with the tips of his fingers. Unable to comfort the man he loved with words, this was all he could do. For the first time in a long while, the loss of his voice weighed cruelly on him. They stayed like that for a long moment, embraced, until Angel finally pulled away. The tears had dried up, and he had regained some composure. But when he resumed his story, his voice was still trembling. He recounted the last visions with difficulty.

When he had finished, silence returned, and Angel ran a hand over his face.

Lindsey took a few instants to process everything he had just heard, giving his partner a moment of calm to pull himself together as well.

A few minutes later, he tenderly took Angel’s face between his hands, forcing him to look at him.

"You’re an idiot," he then signed simply.

Angel chuckled at the unexpected comment, and Lindsey smiled in return. Now that the vampire seemed less distressed, Lindsey launched into explanations, one argument after another, like he would have done in a trial.

"First, we’re not even sure that man really was indeed yourself from the future, or that what he showed you is true. Second, I don’t believe in fate. It’s our choices that determine our future. So even if those visions are true, nothing you saw is inevitable." His gestures were firm but composed.

Angel blinked, wiping away the last traces of tears as he watched Lindsey sign. Then he shook his head.

— "I know all that, Lindsey, but… but you didn’t see those visions… They were… so real," he murmured.

"And you thought leaving would stop them from happening?" Lindsey asked.

— "Maybe… It seems being with me is dangerous for everyone…"

"Let’s be pragmatic for a minute," Lindsey signed again. His expression was poised, but gentle. "Sienna is a Slayer. Dealing with the supernatural is her mission. And if my memory and Wolfram & Hart’s files are right, she’s already lucky to have made it past twenty-five…"

Angel tried to protest, but Lindsey raised a hand to stop him.

"I didn’t say I wished her to die, calm down. Just let me finish," he insisted. "Wesley is a former watcher, and he was the one who chose to work with you at Angel Investigations. Danger is part of the job, he knew that. Connor and Holly… well, they are young and there’s nothing proving their potential breakup is your fault. And as for Gunn, taking over Wolfram & Hart wasn’t without risk either. And again, it was his choice. You can’t protect everyone every second. They make their own decisions. And you’re not responsible for that, Angel. That’s exactly what you’ve been telling me for the last month. About the criminal I freed who also made a choice."

Angel looked up, meeting Lindsey’s tender gaze.

"You’re an idiot," Lindsey signed again, the simplicity of the gesture contrasting with his previous detailed arguments.

Angel gave a sad smile.

— "Okay, everyone makes their own decisions," he repeated. "But what about you? What’s your solution for the visions that involve you?"

Lindsey shrugged, displaying a falsely detached air.

"Well, don’t yell at me. And be there to comfort me when or if I lose a leg," he replied simply.

Angel looked at him, absolutely unconvinced. He shook his head. Even if he was calmer now, he was still seriously considering leaving, letting Lindsey live a peaceful life, far from vampires and danger.

Seeing the doubt still lingering in Angel’s eyes, Lindsey signed, more sharply this time: "I lost a hand once, and I dealt with it! I don’t give a damn about that leg!"

— "I do care, Lindsey! I do!" Angel burst out. "You already lost your voice because you helped us stop the Devil. If… if you’d really left me when you found out the Senior Partners were involved, you’d still be able to sing! It’s… I refuse to let anything else happen to you because of me! I refuse to let you live a life of pain or strife!"

Lindsey remained shocked. He had never blamed Angel for the loss of his voice, not once.

"Those were my choices. My decisions. You had nothing to do with it!" he protested. "And I can live with one leg; I’ll manage," he assured, tears in his eyes as he saw that he couldn’t convince Angel.

The vampire shook his head and looked away.

Out of ideas, Lindsey reached for the small notebook on the living room table. This time, signs would not suffice. He took the time he needed to write his message. Then handed the notebook to Angel, trying at the same time to convey all his feelings for him through his gaze.

The vampire took the notebook with a hesitant hand. Lindsey had written nearly a full page.

You’re worth it.
Our love is worth losing a leg, Angel. I know what you’re going to say, but please keep reading. I love you. I love you more than anything, more than anyone. It’s cliché but it’s true. I love your brooding silences as much as your smiles. I love how you fight for what’s right, even when sometimes we disagree on what that is. I love everything about you. And you make me feel so good, so happy, and so, so, so loved. That’s priceless. That’s worth any sacrifice. One leg is nothing compared to the happiness I feel with you. And every moment with you is more valuable than all the songs I could ever have sung.

Angel interrupted his reading for a moment, overwhelmed. He looked up, meeting the eyes of the man he loved.

— "That’s a real declaration…" he murmured. "You’ve always been good with words."

He took Lindsey tenderly against him, burying his face in his neck, one hand gently caressing his long hair. After a moment, he pulled back. His face now looked resolute, as if he’d just made a decision. He resumed his reading.

There’ll be arguments, there’s no doubt about that. But it’s up to us to make reconciliations the most important moments. Our happiness is in our hands, Angel. So even if you tell me I’ll die in a few days or years, I don’t care. Because every second by your side matters. I know that for now I’m just one part of your immortal life, but to me, you are my entire life. I don’t care if it’s short or long. I’ll cherish every minute, every second, with my voice or not, with arguments or in peace, with two legs or just one.

That final paragraph left Angel stunned. His fingers tightened slightly on the notebook, his dark eyes locked on Lindsey’s handwriting. Then, suddenly, he leapt to his feet.

Lindsey, surprised, looked at him in confusion and caught him just as he was about to leave the room. Angel turned, and with immense tenderness, took Lindsey’s face in his hands, his thumbs softly brushing his cheeks. Locking eyes with him, he murmured in a husky voice:

— "I’ll be right back. I promise."

He kissed him with almost desperate urgency. A brief kiss, but charged with raw intensity. Then he turned and left without another word, leaving Lindsey frozen, suspended in uncertainty.

---

Angel’s car engine purred as he pulled into the underground parking lot of the mall. He turned off the ignition and stepped out, his footsteps echoing on the concrete.

He saw him immediately. His hypothetical future self. The man seemed to be waiting for him, his tired eyes scanning Angel with a mix of warning and regret.

— "You think your love will be enough?" the man called out. "That’s not love. It’s poison. It’ll destroy him. If you really love him, leave. Go far away. And never come back."

Angel stopped a few steps away, fixing him with the same dark, unwavering stare he usually reserved for his enemies.

— "You think you know me. Maybe you are me, maybe you’re not. But either way, you’re wrong. Love is about deciding together. And that’s what Lindsey and I just did. We decide to keep going."

Without another word, Angel turned on his heel, ignoring the old man’s silhouette behind him, and vanished into the mall’s artificial light.

---

The day was now well underway when Angel’s car engine growled again in the driveway. Lindsey, who had once more been pacing in the living room, froze. His heart sped up, torn between relief and anger. As soon as he heard the door slam shut, he jumped to his feet and rushed to meet Angel.

His hands moved quickly, signing with obvious tension:

"Where were you? I thought you had really left this time, that you’d abandoned me… that…"

Angel caught his hands mid-motion, his face marked by guilt.

— "I’m sorry, Lindsey. Truly. I’m sorry."

He leaned in and kissed him. Lindsey let out a sigh, his shoulders dropping slightly as he accepted his apology.

"Where were you?" he asked again.

— "Come with me," Angel replied simply, without answering the question.

He took Lindsey’s hand and led him toward the living room, his fingers firmly wrapped reassuringly around his. He stopped in the middle of the room, searching for the right words.

— "I know this might not be the best moment… not the most romantic either…" he began.
He paused, pulling a small box out of his pocket.

Lindsey blinked, his expression shifting from confusion to realization as Angel knelt down.

— "I’m not as good with words as you, my love," Angel started, "so let me borrow some of yours. Every moment by your side is priceless. And I want to treasure every minute, every second. You’re not just a part of my immortal life, Lindsey. In fact, I fully intend to become human so I can grow old with you. But even if that never happens, you are my whole life. Whether immortal or human." He opened the box, revealing a sleek, elegant ring. "Will you marry me?"

Lindsey stood frozen, his heart pounding wildly. His eyes shifted from the ring to Angel in disbelief. He swallowed hard, his composure slipping. Emotion gripped him by the throat, squeezing his chest with an intensity he’d never thought possible. His eyes filled with tears, a mix of love, surprise, and raw happiness. He didn’t know how to react. His heart was beating too fast, and he blinked to chase the tears away, his pride mingling with the flood of emotion he was feeling.

A faint smile broke across his face, and he nodded slightly, as if he still couldn’t quite believe what was happening. Then, without waiting, he raised his hand and signed a clear, precise "Yes," nodding at the same time to leave no doubt about his answer.

Angel had barely stood when Lindsey grabbed his face between his hands, kissing him with fierce intensity. A kiss full of relief, love, and a hint of urgency, as if he needed to claim the moment before it slipped away.

When their lips finally parted, Angel gently took Lindsey’s hand and slid the ring onto his finger. Lindsey looked down at the ring for a moment, a smile forming on his lips, before looking back up at Angel.

Without a gesture, he articulated distinctly, his lips forming silent words: "I love you."

— "I love you too," Angel whispered, pulling the man who was now his fiancé close for another kiss.

Chapter Text

The sun was slowly setting, tinting the sky with an orange glow and casting golden reflections on the living room walls. Angel and Lindsey stood side by side, slightly apart. The atmosphere was peculiar, a light tension hanging in the air, betraying the importance of what they were about to announce. Wesley, Connor, Sienna, Gunn, and Lorne took their seats, exchanging curious glances.

Gunn, perched on the armrest of the couch, was the first to break the silence, his voice laced with concern:

— "Weren’t you supposed to leave yesterday? Did something serious happen?"

— "No, no. Well, yes, something serious, kind of, but everything’s fine…" Angel began, a bit hesitant, searching for his words. Then he stopped, exchanged a look with Lindsey, and simply said: "We changed our minds."

Angel’s firmer tone caught everyone’s attention. Wesley frowned slightly, attentive.

— "Changed your minds about what exactly?" he asked. "You don’t want to become human anymore?"

— "Yes, yes, I do," Angel replied immediately. "But we’ve decided to… postpone the trip because…"

Before he could finish, Lindsey took a step forward. His eyes gleamed with an intensity that was hard to hide: a mix of impatience and pride. Without a word, he raised his hand and simply showed the ring on his finger.

A silence, incredulous at first, fell over the room, then Sienna let out an enthusiastic exclamation:

— "Wow, seriously?! You guys are getting married?!"

Angel nodded, a sincere smile spreading across his face as he slipped an arm around Lindsey’s waist, who was beaming.

A ‘domestic partnership’, Lindsey clarified by writing in his notebook for the whole group.

Congratulations burst forth from all directions, along with shoulder pats and brief but warm hugs. Connor walked over to Lindsey, a mocking smile tugging at his lips.

— "I always said you’d end up being my stepdad, Lindsey… Looks like I was right."

Lindsey raised an eyebrow, looking offended. But with a smile, he gave him a strong middle finger, triggering a round of laughter, before pulling him into a cheerful hug.

As the excitement slowly settled and Angel popped open the champagne, Wesley cleared his throat, adopting a more serious tone.

— "And technically… how’s this ‘domestic partnership’ going to work? I mean, you’re both men, and Angel’s a vampire. Is that even legally possible?" he asked, turning to Lindsey, who was best suited to answer as a lawyer.

But Angel didn’t give his fiancé time to write and shrugged, clearly unconcerned about formalities.

— "It doesn’t matter! It’s not about the paperwork. We haven’t talked about all the details yet, but it’ll probably just be something symbolic. Even if it’s ‘not real,’ it’s not what’s important. I don’t even have an official identity anyway…"

A sharp sound cut through the room. Lindsey had tapped the table lightly to regain everyone’s attention, his furrowed brows betraying some frustration. He quickly wrote in large letters in his notebook and held it up:

1. Paperwork matters. I want something official. Before the law.
2. Yes, you do have a legal identity.

A silence followed. Angel squinted, a confused expression crossing his face.

— "No, I don’t, Lin…" he said softly. "I understand that you want something official, a bond ‘before the law,’ but… same-sex marriage is illegal in most states, and besides, it’s impossible without an identity."

Lindsey shook his head and wrote again.

You know I’m the one who handled the paperwork when we bought the house, right?

He waited for Angel to nod before continuing.

I’m an evil lawyer… So yes, you do have an identity now. Since we started living together, I arranged it.

Angel stared at the notebook for a moment, blinking as if he hadn’t read correctly. He slowly turned his head toward Lindsey’s face, disbelief written across his features.

— "You created a fake identity for me…" he murmured in a low voice.

Unsure if this was a question or an accusation, Lindsey simply nodded. Then, leaving his notebook on the table, he stepped closer to Angel, his hand brushing his arm in a discreet gesture.

"Are you mad?" he signed, as if to keep the conversation private.

— "No, but… You could have told me," Angel reproached gently.

"Sorry, I thought you knew. A fake ID was the only way the house could legally belong to both of us… I’m sorry if that’s not what you wanted…"

— "No, it’s fine, Lin. Don’t worry," the vampire reassured him immediately with a smile. "I’m just surprised, not angry."

Angel let out an amused chuckle.

— "You’re right, I should’ve known that’s exactly what an evil lawyer would do. You’re incorrigible," he added before kissing him.

Lorne, who had been sipping his champagne with feigned indifference, suddenly raised his glass, a twinkle in his eye.

— "Alright, my little sugarplums, let’s talk serious stuff now: music, atmosphere, theme! Shall we re-enact Corpse Bride? Or shall we go wild with a vampire chic and zombie glamour theme?" he asked.

— "What?" Angel exclaimed, while Lindsey and the others burst out laughing imagining the scene. "Are you out of your mind?"

Regaining his seriousness, Lindsey retrieved his notebook and approached Lorne with a knowing look, followed by Connor. Angel shook his head as he watched the three of them settle together on the couch. He could only imagine what they were about to come up with...

---

Silence settled over the living room after the guests had left. Angel and Lindsey had collapsed side by side on the sofa, finally enjoying a moment of calm after the excitement of the evening.

Angel stretched slightly before turning his head toward his fiancé, a smirk playing across his face.

— "You’ve been chatting a lot with Lorne and Connor tonight. I hope the three of you didn’t plan the whole wedding while my back was turned…"

Lindsey let out a silent chuckle. He raised his hand and spread two fingers with a mischievous smile: "Just a little." Then, seeing Angel’s mock-suspicious look, he quickly added, "I promise, I won’t do anything without your permission."

Angel shook his head, smiling, amused.

— "I’m really not mad, you know… about the identity thing."

"Are you sure?" Lindsey insisted.

— "Definitely," Angel confirmed, slipping his arm around Lindsey’s shoulders. "Just don’t take too many risks doing that kind of illegal stuff… You’re supposed to be a respectable, upstanding lawyer now… And by the way, what exactly did you write? Did you make up a last name for me?"

"Not really. Just ‘Liam Angel,’" Lindsey explained. "Would you have preferred something else?"

— "No…" the vampire replied. "And anyway, in a few weeks, you’ll arrange for it to be Liam McDonald, I hope…"

Lindsey stared at him for a good ten seconds before reacting.

"You want to take my name?" he asked, incredulous.

— "Well, yeah. Don’t you want that?" Angel replied. "I don’t know how a ‘domestic partnership’ works. I guess it’s… unusual… maybe even illegal, but… you can ‘cheat’ again, right? Without putting your credibility or reputation as a lawyer at risk?"

"Yeah, I can… and I will," Lindsey signed, moved, before leaning against Angel’s shoulder, his head naturally settling into the curve of his neck.

— "Thank you. I’ll be proud to bear your name," Angel murmured, the words making Lindsey’s throat tighten with emotion.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, simply enjoying each other’s presence, until Angel broke the silence again, curiosity in his voice:

— "How do you picture it? Our wedding. Or ‘domestic partnership’ if you prefer the official term."

Lindsey shrugged slightly. He had never really considered getting married, but suddenly he had plenty of ideas. Nothing very specific, though. He turned his head toward Angel, his questioning gaze throwing the question back.

Angel let out a small laugh.

— "Me? Hmm… Traditional. Simple. With the people who matter to us. Nothing extravagant. Just… real."

Lindsey nodded in agreement. A flashy ceremony didn’t appeal to him either. What Angel had just described resonated perfectly with him.

After a brief silence, Angel slipped in a more hesitant tone:

— "You could invite your family, if you want. It’d be an opportunity to…"

Lindsey tensed slightly, glancing up at his fiancé before shaking his head vigorously, without the slightest hesitation.

— "You’re sure?" Angel asked gently. "A wedding’s a happy event. I’m sure they’d be glad for you… It could be a chance to reconnect…"

Lindsey pursed his lips slightly and shook his head again.

"I don’t want to," he signed. "You’re my family. You, Connor. And… a cat."

Angel raised an eyebrow, surprised by that last part.

— "A cat?" he repeated, forgetting the main topic of the conversation. "Where did that come from? You’ve never mentioned wanting a cat…"

Lindsey shrugged.

"There were lots of them where I grew up. Stray cats. We didn’t have money to feed them or take care of them, but… sometimes they’d let us pet them."

He smiled at this childhood memory while Angel watched him, trying to imagine what his fiancé had looked like as a kid.

"When we get back home and you’re human again, I’d like a cat. If that’s okay with you," Lindsey signed.

A tender smile spread across the vampire’s lips. He’d never had a pet himself (wrong time period), but why not? As long as they didn’t tell Spike…

— "Okay. Go for a cat, then," he replied softly, pressing a light kiss to Lindsey’s hair.

Silence settled again, then Angel added in a low voice:

— "Cats have a reputation for being temperamental… That actually suits you pretty well."

Lindsey glanced up at him, feigning outrage, before giving him a playful elbow, an amused grin on his lips.

Angel laughed softly, tightening his embrace. They stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, imagining a simple future filled with small, unexpected joys.

---

About two weeks later, the living room was bathed in soft lighting, the golden-orange hues of twilight filtering through the curtains. On the coffee table, a carefully drawn seating chart was spread out among scribbled notes and brochures of vintage car rentals that Angel had browsed with barely contained excitement. Lindsey, sitting cross-legged on the couch, was plucking the strings of his new guitar with focused attention, while Angel watched in silence, his chin resting on one hand.

Preparations were moving fast. Too fast maybe. The wedding was in just three weeks. Lorne and Lindsey had fine-tuned the playlist with near-obsessive precision, balancing songs chosen for personal meaning with others selected for the mood. Angel had let them handle it, knowing they were in their element, and had focused on other things, like choosing the car he insisted on renting for the occasion.

His gaze drifted to the seating chart. Not many names were written on it. Just their close circle: Connor, Gunn, Sienna, Wesley, Illyria (if she made it back in time from her mysterious expedition to the North Pole) and a few of Lindsey’s friends, like Nate and members of his band. A short, intimate list. Yet, there were still blank spots, chairs with no assigned guests.

Angel straightened slightly, his eyes still on the paper.

— "Are you sure there’s no one else you want to invite? There’s room," he asked in a soft voice.

Lindsey looked up, his expression betraying a hint of tension. His fingers stopped strumming for a brief moment, and he shook his head, brief and categorical.

Angel didn’t insist. The last time they’d talked about his family, Lindsey had — deliberately? — diverted the conversation by talking about getting a cat. It had been easier that way.

But Angel knew the bite of regret. He knew what it was like not to be able to go back. He hadn’t had a second chance with his own family. Just blood and fading memories.

He wondered if Lindsey was truly sparing himself the pain… or just burying it beneath years of silence, at the risk of regrets piling up over the years.

---

The next morning, Angel got up before dawn. He watched Lindsey sleep for a moment, then gently brushed his fingers along his cheek before leaving the house, setting down a small note to say he was going to work.

He had an idea in mind. If there was even the smallest chance he could offer Lindsey something that he himself had never had… then he had to try. Even though his fiancé would probably resent him for acting against his wishes.

---

Angel’s office was plunged in semi-darkness, the cold light from the computer screen casting shadows across his tense features. He stared at the empty page in front of him, his fingers motionless on the keyboard. He had never been particularly good at tasks like this. Where to begin? There was no demon to interrogate, no supernatural lead to follow. Just a blurry past and fragments of stories Lindsey had let slip over the years; and a last name far too common to be of much help…

After several unsuccessful searches, Angel pushed his chair back in frustration. He wasn’t a real detective, and he knew it. He was good at tracking down demons, not memories buried in bureaucratic archives. He reached for his phone. If anyone could help him dig into the shadows of the past, it was Wesley, Gunn… and Nate. The latter might be the key. He’d known Lindsey since college days, a time when Lindsey might have been more willing to talk about his family.

Wesley picked up almost immediately.

— "Angel? It’s rare to hear from you at this hour. Our usual working schedule tends to be… later."

— "I know, but I need a favor."

Angel’s tone was direct, but there was a trace of hesitation in his voice.

— "Is it about the wedding?"

— "Not exactly."

He explained the situation quickly, without too many details, but enough for Wesley to understand. There was a silence on the other end, then the former watcher resumed:

— "You want to find Lindsey’s family without him knowing?"

— "Yeah... I know it sounds intrusive… but I just want to see if there’s a chance to fix something before it’s too late."

Wesley didn’t ask further questions.

— "Okay. I’ll be there in an hour, just need to get ready."

Angel hung up and dialed Gunn. Now head of Wolfram & Hart, he had unlimited access to databases even the police couldn’t consult without a warrant. Not to mention the firm had certainly investigated Lindsey back when he worked there. When Gunn heard the request, he gave a low whistle.

— "You want to dig into your future husband’s past? That’s romance, Angel-style."

— "It’s important."

— "I know. I’ll see what I can find and get back to you."

Then there was Nate. That call was trickier. Angel had only had brief interactions with him and hadn’t spoken to him since the case of that recidivist criminal.

— "Angel? Did something happen to Lindsey?" the lawyer asked immediately.

— "No, no, everything’s fine. We’re just in the middle of wedding prep and… I’ve got a few questions…"

Angel explained briefly. Nate stayed silent for a moment before answering:

— "Lindsey didn’t talk much about his family… but I remember he mentioned an older brother. Eliot, I think. He said he ‘went down a bad road’ and that it made things complicated back home. That’s all I remember, sorry."

Eliot. Not much, but it was a start.

The following days were filled with intense research. Wesley and Sienna combed through newspaper articles and digital archives, but without much success. It was Gunn who finally found the first lead, through fragments of court records that confirmed that an Eliot McDonald had indeed served time in Texas for involuntary manslaughter, which matched what Lindsey had once told Angel.

— "No recent official record," Gunn said as he handed Angel a simple sheet with the few results they’d gathered. "But I found an address in Oklahoma."

The vampire stood up immediately.

— "I’m going."

Wesley frowned.

— "You sure you want to do this alone?"

— "Yes." His voice was firm. "Lindsey can’t know yet. I want to test the waters first."

— "You can take the Wolfram & Hart jet if you want," Gunn offered.

Angel nodded in thanks, folded the paper carefully, and left the office without another word.

---

Back home, Angel found Lindsey cooking. His eyes lit up when the vampire stepped through the door.

— "I have to go away for a bit…" Angel announced after kissing him, his voice controlled despite the tension in his stomach.

Lindsey raised an eyebrow, surprised and a little curious.

"Now?" he signed.

— "Yeah, I know, it wasn’t planned, sorry… But it shouldn’t take long. Just a day, I think."

Lindsey nodded and simply signed: “Okay. Be safe. And text me.”

Angel approved, pulling him into a hug then resting his forehead against Lindsey’s.

— "I promise," he said, letting his hands slide down to Lindsey’s hips with appreciation.

These past few weeks had been tough on Lindsey, and he’d gained some weight. A body that changes with life’s ups and downs… Envious, Angel smiled inwardly but said nothing. He knew Lindsey would absolutely not agree with him, and would likely spend a whole week at the gym if Angel made any comment, even a positive one, about his weight.

— "You’re beautiful," Angel murmured instead. "I love you."

He kissed him again, then pulled away to pack a small overnight bag.

Chapter Text

The address hadn’t led to anything concrete. But Angel hadn’t given up. As soon as the sun had set, he’d questioned the neighbors, trying to find out if Eliot had really lived there and whether he might have moved recently. After chasing leads that dried up in run-down neighborhoods, Angel finally found him.

Eliot McDonald wasn’t hard to recognize. He looked a bit like Lindsey, though older, naturally. Slightly taller too, and definitely more imposing. He gave off a kind of raw toughness, whereas Lindsey had the polished, professional look of someone who worked in an office rather than in the field. But they had the same piercing blue eyes and the same mid-length brown hair.

Angel hesitated for a moment. He couldn’t just show up and blurt out, "Hi! I’m your brother’s fiancé!" So, he watched him for a moment. The man seemed to be on his way home from work. He was wearing a security company uniform, which did nothing to hide his build. His walk was confident: the stride of a man always ready for anything.

Angel followed from a distance, thinking about how to start the conversation. But as he turned the corner Eliot had just taken a few moments earlier, the vampire suddenly found himself slammed violently against a wall, a solid forearm pressed to his throat. The speed of the attack surprised him, as did the strength of his opponent, who was shorter than him and human. Eliot’s tense muscles betrayed years of intense training, or maybe years of surviving in hostile environments.

— "Who the hell are you? And what do you want?" he growled aggressively, his icy blue eyes gleaming under the neon lights of the alley.

Angel slowly raised his hands in a gesture of peace, his voice calm despite the pressure.

— "Relax. My name is Angel. I’m a friend of Lindsey’s."

The name had the intended effect. Eliot froze, his expression darkening, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. He didn’t reply immediately, his eyes scanning Angel with chilling intensity. As his brow furrowed, the vampire noticed a fine, almost invisible scar, just above his left eye, a relic from an old fight no doubt.

— "It’s been a long time since I’ve heard that name," Eliot finally said, stepping back.

Angel straightened up and nodded slowly.

— "Can we talk?" he asked, gesturing toward a local bar just up the street.

Eliot agreed with a slight nod, but the look on his face was laced with thinly veiled suspicion, his body still on alert.

The bar was modest, dimly lit, with a lingering smell of tobacco, beer, and old leather. Most of the patrons were regulars, who looked up at them with mild surprise before returning to their conversations. A few gave Eliot nods. He was clearly known here, and likely respected. Angel scanned the room and quickly spotted an empty table set slightly apart. They sat down and each ordered a beer.

A heavy silence settled between them. His gaze wary, Eliot gauged Angel, trying to figure out who he was and why he was here.

— "Is he okay?" he finally asked, his voice a little rough.

— "Yes. Lindsey’s fine. I mean…" began Angel before pausing, searching for the right words to explain to Eliot that his brother had lost his voice but was indeed fine. "He went through some rough stuff… an accident. He lost his voice."

Eliot froze, surprised, his fingers tightening around his bottle. His face hardened, and he shook his head.

— "Fuck…" he muttered.

Angel continued gently:

— "But he’s getting through it. He’s strong."

Eliot nodded. He knew that. With a childhood like theirs, they’d all become strong.

Silence settled anew and dragged on. Eliot finally asked, abruptly:

— "Who are you? And why are you here?"

Angel hesitated again. He wasn’t sure of the best way to approach it, but he sensed Eliot wouldn’t tolerate unnecessary detours.

— "Lindsey and I… we’re getting married."

Eliot nearly choked on his beer.

— "What?!" he exclaimed, wiping his face with a swipe of his sleeve.

— "He doesn’t know I’m here," Angel continued. "I came because… because he doesn’t want to invite anyone and… I just wanted to understand. To see if… something could still be fixed. I don’t want him to have any regrets."

Eliot stared at him, his jaw muscles clenching again. After a moment, he let out a sigh and reached for his bottle for one last sip.

— "Damn it…" he muttered. "I haven’t heard a thing about him in over ten years, I didn’t know if he was alive, what he was doing or anything… and now I find out he’s engaged… to a man…" Eliot shook his head in disbelief before going on. "What the hell am I supposed to do with that information? I didn’t even know he was gay… Damn it, I didn’t even know he was alive!" he snapped, his voice rising a notch, drawing a few curious glances from nearby tables.

He ran a hand over his face, his fingers trembling slightly before pushing them through his hair. Then, in a sudden motion, he pushed back his chair with a loud scrape on the worn floor and stood up.

— "I need some air."

Frowning, Angel watched him stride out of the bar. He hesitated a moment, then rose and followed him.

Outside, Eliot was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and jaw clenched. He was staring at the dark street ahead, but Angel could tell he saw nothing but fragments of broken memories swirling in his mind.

Angel remained at a distance, giving Eliot time to process what he’d just learned.

— "I’m not here to convince you of anything," the vampire finally said. "I just wanted… to see if there was anything left to save."

The words faded into the cold air. Eliot didn’t respond right away. He stayed still for a moment, then let out another sigh.

— "I don’t know what you want me to do, man." He turned his head toward Angel, and this time, the anger and surprise had given way to bitterness. "I can’t just… show up in his life after all this time and pretend nothing ever happened."

Angel nodded slowly. He understood. But he wasn’t ready to give up either.

— "Then… write to him."

Eliot raised an eyebrow.

— "What?"

— "A letter. A message. Anything," Angel suggested, watching him intently.

— "You think some damn letter is gonna fix anything?"

— "Maybe not. But I’m getting to know Lindsey. He’s a thoughtful man, a man who knows how to forgive and make new beginnings, even if sometimes he needs a little push. Maybe a letter won’t be enough, but at least it’s… something. A first step."

Eliot clenched his jaw, his face marked by a mix of apprehension and defeatism. Under the harsh glow of the streetlamp, however, he looked like the kind of man most people would rather avoid at night.

— "It’s too late."

Angel slowly shook his head.

— "No, it isn’t. As long as he’s alive, as long as you are too, it’s never too late."

Another silence settled between them, heavier this time. Eliot uncrossed his arms, hesitating.

— "He doesn’t know you came to see me, does he?" he asked.

— "No, he doesn’t," Angel confirmed.

Eliot let out a humorless laugh.

— "Great. So I’m supposed to write to a brother who erased me from his life without explanation, not even knowing if he’d want to read a single word from me?"

— "That’s your choice," Angel replied. "But if you don’t do anything, then for sure nothing will change. He won’t make the first step."

Eliot looked away, his jaw tightening again. He remained silent for a long moment, then finally nodded.

— "What do you want me to tell him?"

— "That’s up to you… Just be honest," Angel advised simply.

Eliot gave a bitter smile.

— "Honesty… not exactly a family specialty."

Angel smirked slightly.

— "Yeah, I kinda got that impression, actually…"

Eliot let out a small laugh, and a strange, companionable silence settled briefly. Then he sighed, resigned.

— "I’m going to write to him," he said at last, his voice low but determined.

He stood still for a second, his gaze plunged into Angel’s, as if seeking to draw from it some of the certainty he didn’t possess. Then he looked away and, without another word, returned to the bar.

Angel remained outside, leaning against the cold wall, alone in the night air, as the soft light filtered through the window. There was nothing more for him to say. Now it was up to Eliot to take the next step.

---

Sitting at a table on a terrace overlooking the ocean, Connor and Lindsey were enjoying the relative calm of the late afternoon beach. Since Angel was away on a business trip, they had decided to spend some time together. Connor, however, seemed far less relaxed than Lindsey, and even a little irritated.

— "I know they’re close… but… I’m his son!" Connor burst out in frustration, stirring his coffee with unnecessary force. "And we’re actually getting along pretty well these days, right?"

Lindsey frowned, but didn’t get the chance to reply before Connor continued.

— "I mean, Wesley’s nice but… he looks like a puritanical archivist! He’s not suited to be his best man at all!" he exclaimed, then repeated, "Fuck, I’m his son! It’s not every day my dad gets married!"

Annoyed, Lindsey rolled his eyes and sighed. He looked around and grabbed the first thing he could reach—a large sugar cube—and tossed it straight at Connor.

— "Ow! Hey!" Connor protested, rubbing the spot on his forehead.

Lindsey arched a brow, waiting.

— "Sorry… go on," Connor muttered, begrudgingly.

Lindsey motioned to make sure Connor was actually paying attention this time.

"Well, you shouldn’t be so mad at your father. He has a really good reason for choosing Wesley…"

— "I don’t care about his reasons!" Connor immediately snapped.

Lindsey narrowed his eyes in warning and grabbed another sugar cube.

— "… Sorry, go ahead. I’m paying attention," Connor grumbled, sitting up straighter.

Lindsey studied him for a moment, thinking carefully about the best way to explain. He signed slowly, as if weighing each gesture.

"I know why he didn’t choose you, Connor. It’s because… this way, I can do it..." he finally signed.

Connor blinked, clearly taken aback. He took a few seconds to process, not entirely sure he had understood Lindsey’s signs.

Lindsey gave him a faint smile before clarifying. Pointing at himself, then at Connor, he signed carefully:

"Will you be my best man, Connor?"

Connor stared at him. His mouth opened slightly, then closed again as he blinked quickly, as if to make sure he'd understood correctly.

— "You… you want me as your best man?"

Lindsey nodded firmly, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

For a second, Connor said nothing. Then his face broke into a huge grin. "Fuck… Well… Yeah! I mean, yes, of course!"

Lindsey’s smile grew wider.

"Thank you…" he signed. "It means a lot."

— "Well… You asking means a lot to me… Thank you, Lindsey," Connor replied.

He leaned forward, eyes suddenly bright with excitement. "Wait… Does that mean I get to plan the bachelor party??? You want male or female strippers ???"

Lindsey groaned inwardly. Maybe he should’ve just let Connor keep sulking.

— "Or both. Yeah, you’re more likely to like both. Both is better…" concluded the young man as Lindsey ran a hand over his face with a mixture of exasperation and amusement.

---

Angel closed the door behind him, letting the silence of the apartment envelope him. The soft candlelight cast warm reflections on the walls, creating an intimate, almost surreal atmosphere. He slipped off his jacket absent-mindedly, drawn to the sight before him.

The center of the room had been cleared, and Lindsey was sitting on the carpet, surrounded by cushions. His jeans were unbuttoned, revealing the curves of his hips and the waistband of his underwear. His shirt was half-open, and his tie hung loosely around his neck. In that outfit, he radiated a kind of calculated nonchalance that immediately raised Angel’s interest – among other things.

"You’re finally home," Lindsey signed, his fingers shaping the words with a slowness that felt almost deliberate.

Angel smiled, feeling a familiar warmth spread through his chest.

— "I see you’ve found… an interesting way to pass the time."

Lindsey raised a teasing eyebrow, letting his gaze linger on Angel with intensity. His smile was anything but innocent and he showed the vampire two piles of cards before him.

"I’ve prepared a game. Simple rules: truth… or temptation."

Angel arched an eyebrow, amused. Lindsey never stopped surprising him.

— "A game, huh?" he murmured as he sat down facing him on the rug.

With anticipation shining in his eyes, he picked the first card, choosing from the Temptation pile.

Temptation : Kiss the part of your partner’s body you most want right now.

Angel smiled, a predatory glint in his gaze. He was going to love this game. He took his time, as if hesitating, letting his eyes travel slowly over Lindsey’s body, drinking in every detail… The way his chest rose and fell with each breath, how the candlelight played across his exposed torso, the subtle tension in his muscles as he waited for the vampire’s touch.

— "So many possibilities…" Angel murmured.

Then he leaned in, letting his fingers glide along Lindsey’s bare hip before lowering his head to press his lips to his lower belly, just at the edge of his boxer. He left a cool kiss on the warm skin. The contrast between them—death and life, cold and heat—never failed to stir something primal in Angel. He parted his lips slightly to let his tongue slide over the skin, savoring the shiver that ran through Lindsey beneath him and his quickening heartbeat.

Without giving his fiancé a chance to react, Angel straightened up and captured his lips with restrained intensity, his hands sliding along his neck and into his hair. He tugged just hard enough to establish control but gentle enough to convey his care, the balance they'd perfected over time.

When Lindsey was breathless, Angel pulled back with a smug little smile, pleased at the heat spreading across his fiancé’s cheeks.

— "Your turn," he said, nodding toward the two card piles.

Lindsey pretended to hesitate just long enough to catch his breath, but Angel could see the excitement in his eyes. Finally, he picked a Temptation card as well.

Temptation : Remove an item of clothing… or let your partner do it for you.

Lindsey paused, weighing his options. Their eyes met in silent communication, both grinning, and he slowly let his shirt fall to the floor himself, keeping the tie on but revealing his tanned chest. Lifting his hand, he dragged his fingers gently down his torso, grazing the bare skin with exaggerated slowness under Angel’s eager gaze.

The vampire tilted his head, admiring how his fiancé was offering himself. Then Angel picked another card.

Temptation : Give a striptease.

— "Seriously?" Angel said, uncovering the card with an uncomfortable little laugh.

He twirled it between his fingers before lifting his gaze to his fiancé, half-amused, half-uncertain. The vampire had never been the type one to put on a show, but after more than a year with Lindsey, they’d already tried many things. And right now, the idea of undressing under such an insistent and playful gaze sent a strange thrill through him, somewhere between embarrassment and excitement.

Under Lindsey’s eager eyes, he stood up.

— "Okay, don’t laugh!" he warned, still uncertain.

He locked eyes with his fiancé, then, with a hesitant gesture, began unbuttoning his shirt slowly, deliberately, his fingers brushing his skin as he went.

But Lindsey stopped him with a hand.

"Wait!" he signed, reaching for the coffee table. He grabbed a small remote control and, with a single press, sensual music filled the room.

Angel rolled his eyes.

— "That makes it even worse, Lin!" he protested.

Lindsey burst into silent laugh but didn’t falter, gesturing for him to keep going by tapping the card with a finger. There was a gentle challenge in his eyes.

The vampire raised an eyebrow, a crooked smile touching his lips, then he took the bait and picked up where he’d left off.

Lindsey’s gaze followed his every move with an intensity that raised the temperature in the room by several degrees. With each button unfastened, Angel felt the balance of power shift between them—his physical strength meaningless against the way Lindsey could unravel him with just a look.

"Keep going," Lindsey signed with a smirk, settling back more comfortably on the rug against the couch as Angel let the fabric slide over his shoulders.

The vampire arched a playful eyebrow and bit his lip. Then he grabbed his belt, tugged on it with a snap, and slid it out of the way with a smooth flick of his wrist. He lingered a moment before moving to his jeans. He played the game to the hilt, unbuttoning them at a maddeningly slow pace, keeping his eyes locked on Lindsey’s.

He lowered his jeans just enough to reveal the line of his waist, then let the garment fall completely, leaving him in tight black boxers, his erection clearly outlined beneath the fabric.

Lindsey straightened up, biting his lip, enjoying the show without trying to hide his appreciation. His expression was a mixture of desire and something deeper—admiration, love, pride at being the only one who got to see Angel this way. With a flick of his hand, he motioned for Angel to turn around.

Angel rolled his eyes, but obeyed.

"Nice view," Lindsey signed, tilting his head slightly as Angel turned back to face him.

Angel then slipped his thumbs under the waistband of his boxers. He slowly tugged downward, revealing first the curve of his hips, then the hint of his erection.

Lindsey unconsciously held his breath, his eyes riveted on the skin being revealed inch by inch. The vampire could hear his heartbeat racing, smell the arousal building in him.

When the last piece of clothing hit the floor, Angel straightened to his full height, entirely naked and almost impassive under his fiancé’s heated gaze. He made no attempt to cover anything, content to cross his arms over his chest, staring at his lover with a falsely detached air.

— "Satisfied?" he asked with a grin that didn’t mask the hint of vulnerability he felt as he was the only one naked in the room.

Lindsey let his eyes drift down his body before answering with a smirk. Playing the game to the end, Angel sat back down slowly in front of him, cross-legged, thighs wide enough to offer his fiancé a perfect view.

— "Your turn to pick a card," he said.

Lindsey reached for the "Truth" pile.

"For a change, and to let you recover from your emotions," he signed, teasing.

Truth: What’s your favorite part of your partner’s body?

Lindsey tilted his head and pondered for a moment, scanning Angel from head to toe. The vampire, now completely naked and still a little embarrassed from his earlier show, blushed. Slowly, Lindsey moved closer and placed his palm on his fiancé’s chest, right over the heart. He straightened up and he raised his hands to sign, but before he could form a single gesture, Angel gently caught his wrists and pulled him in to kiss his neck, just on that vein which pulsed, answering the question that wasn’t directed at him.

Lindsey’s eyes were still half-closed when Angel pulled back, leaving a faint wet trail on his skin. The familiar scent of the vampire enveloped him.

— "I love it when you play with me," Angel murmured in his ear, his voice low and slightly hoarse.

Slowly, the vampire released Lindsey’s wrists and ran his fingertips along his jawline, studying his expression with a mix of tenderness and desire. Then, without another word, he reached for the card piles again.

He hesitated. Knowing Lindsey, there were surely more traps in the "Temptations" deck… but certainly also in the "Truths" as well. Anyway, Angel had no choice. He was naked, and his erection and his whole body were guiding him toward the "Temptations" pile.

Temptation: Masturbate in front of your partner.

— "Fuck, Lindsey!" Angel exclaimed, flipping the card over.

As his only answer, Lindsey just shrugged, as if to say he wasn’t responsible for Angel’s choices.

— "Why is it always me who picks these?" Angel grumbled. "I’m sure you’re cheating. You know the order of the cards."

Lindsey put on a mock-offended face. He’d always been lucky with games. And maybe he wasn’t quite as innocent as he was trying to appear.

"Me? Cheating? It was you who chose ‘Temptations’…" he signed, his expression the picture of false innocence.

Angel shook his head, clearly not fooled, but the temperature had risen a few degrees. Lindsey was staring at him, cross-legged, still wearing his jeans and tie. This staging, and the simple sight of his fiancé like this, eager and in control, made Angel’s erection swell even more with need.

He spread his knees slightly, exposing more of his body to Lindsey. His stomach tightened with anticipation, and he let his hand slide slowly down his belly to his hard cock. The touch was light, almost teasing—a game as much for himself as for the man watching him. With a deliberate slowness, he wrapped his fingers around his length and started moving, slowly. Each stroke was like a gift, offered to Lindsey alone. To his fiancé.

Lindsey stayed still, but his eyes burned with desire. Angel could feel the weight of his gaze on him, and just that made him moan softly. His wrist sped up, muscles tensing with pleasure. Lindsey bit his lower lip, his chest rising faster with growing arousal. He let his palm slide down his own torso, until it reached the edge of his jeans. Then, without undoing them further, he slipped his hand inside his boxer, his fingers instantly finding what they were looking for.

Angel groaned at the sight of the movement beneath the fabric. The idea of Lindsey touching himself, still encased in his jeans, made him shiver. His erection twitched in his hand, and he gripped tighter, unable to tear his eyes away from the vision offered by his fiancé.

Lindsey had tilted his head back, eyelids half-lowered, pressing his fingers more firmly against himself, the friction of the denim adding a delicious pressure. His expression of abandon made Angel's chest tighten with emotion as much as desire.

The air in the living room was now thick with heat and tension, each of Lindsey’s silent sighs blending into Angel’s huskier growls, their bodies responding to each other even if neither of them was touching the other.

Then Lindsey stopped. Angel opened his mouth to protest, but his fiancé was already reaching for a new card, a mysterious smile playing on his lips. This time, he picked from the ‘Temptations’ pile.

Temptation: Go get something fun in the kitchen.

Lindsey smiled. He’d prepared everything for this card. With a fluid movement, he stood up and headed to the kitchen, while Angel watched him with growing curiosity, wondering what he’d come up with this time.

A few moments later, Lindsey returned. With a sexy grin, he handed Angel two large containers of pig’s blood, making the vampire’s eyes widen. Then he turned around and grabbed a big plastic tarp from behind the couch. He unfolded it and laid it out on the carpet. Finally, he lay down on it, hands behind his head, a tempting glint in his eyes.

A shiver ran down Angel’s spine. Lindsey clearly hadn’t forgotten what he had once confessed about his fantasies, even though it had been over a year ago.

— "Lindsey, are you sure?" the vampire asked as he stepped closer, hesitant.

Lindsey answered with a simple nod and a smile. The trust was there, absolute and unyielding.

— "And the safe word?" Angel worried. "You can’t say anything if you’re uncomfortable…"

Lindsey straightened up on the tarp.

"I’ll kick your ass!" he replied with a defiant look, slamming his right fist into his left palm.

Angel let out a soft laugh but nodded. He had no doubt about his lover’s ability to knock him out if needed. Besides, Lindsey wouldn’t be tied up this time and there wouldn’t be any knife involved, so everything should be alright.

So Angel sat down next to him and picked up one of the containers, giving it a gentle shake before opening it. His eyes glinted with hunger and desire as he watched his fiancé lying there, waiting.

Slowly, he tilted the bottle and let some of the dark liquid pour over Lindsey’s neck and chest. The sight was intoxicating and unsettling. A small red river traced paths down his skin, slipping between his pecs, down his abdomen, to his jeans.

Lindsey’s heart quickened at the sight of blood on his body, but he didn’t look away. There was a flicker of nervousness in his eyes and his chest rose heavily. The sensation was utterly foreign. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to remain still as contradictory emotions warred within him: faint disgust mingling with fascination, vulnerability with trust. Angel felt his unease immediately and paused, waiting for Lindsey to process the sensation, to decide if he wanted to continue.

After a brief moment, Lindsey nodded, firmly, showing his confidence.

Angel stifled a growl and reached out to spread the liquid with a possessive touch, trailing his fingers along every drop sliding over his fiancé.

— "I know it’s certainly strange for you… but you’re so beautiful like this…" the vampire whispered.

He circled one nipple and pinched it lightly, making Lindsey shudder with pleasure. That spot had always been his weakness and Angel used the knowledge deliberately. He bent down to slowly lick a trail of blood and Lindsey tilted his head back. His back arched, and one hand, as if on instinct, grabbed the vampire’s hair, tightening slightly with each flick of his tongue on his chest.

— "You’re… incredible," Angel murmured as he straightened, his voice thick with excitement. "I love you so much."

Unable to answer with words, Lindsey smiled. He dipped his fingers into a small puddle of blood that had formed on the tarp and traced a heart on Angel’s chest. That gesture and his eyes said more than any speech could.

With a smooth motion, Angel guided him into a kneeling position, his butt resting on his heels. Lindsey relented, curious to see what his fiancé had in mind. The vampire moved behind him and placed his hands on his shoulders. His fingers gently massaged the skin, toying with the tie, and instinctively, Angel pressed a kiss to the back of Lindsey’s neck, who let out a contented sigh as the vampire drew closer, his chest brushing his back.

Unable to hold back, Angel began grinding slowly but intensely against Lindsey’s ass while kissing his neck, making him feel his hard erection pressing into the small of his back. The scent of blood seemed to heighten everything for Angel. It was intoxicating.

Pulling away, he picked up the second container and, after checking Lindsey’s heartbeat to make sure he was at ease, poured half of it over his shoulders, watching the blood flow down his back, over his hips, then disappear beneath the waistband of his jeans. Lindsey shivered as the blood slipped between his ass cheeks. The liquid trickling down suddenly sent jumbled signals through his nerves, making him acutely aware of every inch it touched. His pulse hammered in his ears, and he found himself focusing on Angel's presence behind him, like a steady anchor.

— "You okay?" the vampire gently asked, leaning toward him, immediately attentive to his reaction.

Lindsey nodded, though his eyes were closed, a slight tension in his shoulders betraying his effort to process the situation.

— "If you’re uncomfortable, we stop right now," Angel murmured.

But Lindsey shook his head and raised a thumb. It was all right.

Angel smiled and his lips returned to his fiancé’s skin in a series of possessive kisses. His hands slid down along his body, spreading the blood, then lingered on his jeans. Instinctively, Lindsey lifted his hips, allowing Angel to slide his hands over his ass. Slowly, the vampire pulled the garment down, savoring the impatience in Lindsey’s trembling.

But halfway through, he paused—and burst out laughing. On Lindsey’s boxers, big letters spelled out "Bite me" on the back.

— "Is that an invitation, or do I have to wait for a special card for that?" the vampire grinned, eyes fixed on the writing across Lindsey’s ass.

Lindsey opened his eyes for a moment and blinked at him, challenging.

Angel didn’t hesitate. Instantly, he pushed Lindsey gently so he was on all fours, hands resting on the blood-stained tarp. Slowly, he removed the remaining clothes entirely, exposing his ass and taut erection.

— "Finally naked…" the vampire murmured with appreciation, his voice deeper now.

He brushed his fingertips over the skin, then bent down to press a kiss to the curve of one cheek. In a flash, his features shifted, his desire turning into raw hunger. Carefully, he sank his fangs into the flesh and sucked a first mouthful of blood. Beneath him, Lindsey opened his mouth in a silent cry, feeling his limbs tremble under the sensation. Unconsciously, he arched slightly, pressing his ass against Angel’s mouth. But the bite didn’t last. Even though the taste of his fiancé’s blood could’ve easily made him lose control, the vampire wanted to enjoy something else.

He sat up and slid his fingers between Lindsey’s legs, caressing the inside of his trembling thighs. He poured the rest of the blood on it, smearing it over the skin as it ran down in thin streams. Again, Lindsey’s heartbeat quickened. Behind his closed eyelids, the mental image of his body painted red sparked a shiver running through his body.

Angel froze, his dark eyes studying his fiancé’s face. He could easily perceive his lover’s arousal, but this time, a note of fear was mixed in. His fingers moved gently across the flushed skin, trying to soothe the silent hesitation.

— "Lin, sweetheart, are you still okay?" he whispered softly. "Don’t forget to kick my ass if I go too far…"

Lindsey kept his eyes shut but gave a faint smile. He wanted this, wanted to share this part of Angel's nature, even if it slightly frightened him. But with one hand, he reached for something: a small piece of paper, folded in four, hidden under the pile of cards. His had slightly unsteady, he handed it to Angel.

There’s lube in the coffee table drawer. Please don’t use the pig’s blood to prep me.

— "Promise," the vampire murmured as he read his fiancé’s note, then pressed a reassuring kiss to his cheek. "Stay on all fours. Keep your eyes closed if you feel like it. I love you."

Pushing the remaining cards aside with one hand, Angel grabbed the lube, glad to see that Lindsey had considered his boundaries when preparing this. He poured a generous amount onto his fingers before gently slipping them inside Lindsey.

He quickly found his weak spot and didn’t let up. Lindsey gasped deliciously under his caresses, unable to restrain himself, the slight fear giving way to pleasure.

Finally, the vampire leaned back slightly and, without taking his eyes off his flushed fiancé, slid inside him in one smooth, slow motion.

Lindsey arched his back at the intrusion, his fingers tightening on the tarp. Angel leaned over him, pressing kisses to his blood-smeared back as he began a measured rhythm, his hips undulating against his lover’s. Lindsey’s eyes were still closed, but now, Angel felt no trace of fear, only pure bliss. Thankfully, because the vampire was in no state to stop anything now.

Pleasure rose in a perfect crescendo, and Angel picked up the pace, his hand gliding along Lindsey’s body, pushing him further into abandonment. The ecstasy intensified with each deeper thrust and Lindsey’s arms trembled beneath him, his whole body tense, right on the edge. When Angel’s hand found his cock and began stroking it, he let himself fall forward, forehead pressed to the cold tarp. And moments later, any coherent thought vanished as his orgasm overtook him.

Angel followed almost immediately, pleasure exploding in waves more intense than ever. Instinctively, his canines found their way to the back of Lindsey’s neck and the vampire sank his fangs into it. Their world melted into red and fever until only their embrace remained.

They stayed like that for a moment, their bodies still streaked with red. The blood had begun to dry in places, creating a strange tightness across Lindsey’s skin, while other spots remained slick and wet. Then Angel withdrew gently, pressing a final kiss to Lindsey’s neck to seal the small wound before rolling to the side, holding him close, safe.

— "I think I really like this game," the vampire declared, his voice soft with post-orgasmic contentment and deeper emotion. "Are you okay?"

Lindsey turned to him and nodded with a smile, finally reopening his eyes. As he became aware of the mess around them, his heart skipped a beat. Instantly, Angel tightened his grip on him, one hand resting on his hair as he tilted his head against his chest, preventing him from seeing all the blood around them and on their skin.

— "Shh… It’s okay, it’s not yours." Angel murmured before apologizing. "I’m sorry… I got a little carried away. Don’t look."

Lindsey nodded against his chest. After a few minutes, during which the vampire kept running his hand along his back and hair, he leaned back slightly and opened his eyes again. This time, he was prepared and he gave a faint smile.

"There’s a lot of blood…" Lindsey admitted, signing with a hand that was still a little shaky, glancing at the empty containers as if he hadn’t realized there had been so much in them. "But I liked it anyway. We can do it again whenever you want. Preferably blindfolded."

Then he pointed at the cards scattered a little further away. There are still plenty more… he seemed to want to say.

Angel let out a soft laugh and kissed Lindsey’s forehead. He could still sense the faint tension in his body. So, rather than respond with a tease, he gently tightened his embrace and whispered against his temple:

— "It was perfect. I loved it, thank you… But next time, we’ll make sure you’re completely comfortable, from start to finish. I love you."

Lindsey took a deep breath, anchoring those words within himself. He didn’t doubt Angel. Not for a single second.

He smiled and reached for another card.

Chapter Text

The morning light filtered softly through the curtains, bathing the bedroom in a subdued golden glow. Angel slowly opened his eyes, savoring the moment of peace. Thanks to the special Wolfram & Hart windows they had installed, he didn’t have to flee the daylight. He could enjoy it, safely.

Lindsey was in his arms, his body relaxed, his breathing steady. Angel gazed at him, a smile brushing his lips. He never got tired of seeing him like this: lost in sleep, in peace and safe by his side. A perfect morning.

Now half-awake, Lindsey turned his head slightly. His blue eyes lingered on the ring and his finger grazed the metal with the tip of his index, almost absent-mindedly.

Angel felt a strange warmth spread in his chest. A warmth that had nothing to do with the sun, and everything to do with the man in his arms.

— "Do you like it?" Angel asked, gently breaking the silence.

Lindsey looked up, a flicker of surprise in his eyes, before nodding vigorously. In a spontaneous gesture, he pushed himself up slightly and pressed his lips to Angel’s. The kiss was soft, full of tenderness and a silent promise.

— "I can’t believe the wedding is in two weeks…" Angel murmured when they pulled apart, his fingers lazily tracing circles on Lindsey’s back.

"Me neither," Lindsey signed. "We just finished the playlist with Lorne while you were away on that business trip. How did it go, by the way? You haven’t told me…"

Angel tensed slightly. The perfect moment had just taken a more delicate turn.

He didn’t answer right away, unsure how to approach the subject.

— "It wasn’t exactly a business trip, actually…" he finally admitted, his voice betraying a hint of hesitation.

Lindsey arched an eyebrow, then sat up, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

"Did you cheat on me with your secretary?" he signed, a crooked smile on his lips.

Angel blinked, then exclaimed, almost outraged:

— "What?! No!"

The mere idea revolted him. He shook his head quickly.

— "And Sienna is kind of my secretary. She’s with Gunn… No, I didn’t cheat on you. Of course not!"

Lindsey looked at him, his gaze more scrutinizing now. This was just a joke… and Angel’s reaction seemed clearly disproportionate. Lindsey narrowed his eyes and gave him a questioning look.

"Where were you?" he asked, now genuinely concerned.

Angel clenched his jaw.

— "Lindsey…"

"Where?" Lindsey repeated, this time signing with more insistence.

— "Oklahoma," Angel finally blurted out.

Lindsey raised an eyebrow.

"Oklahoma? There are better places to invite your mistress…"

— "Lindsey!"

"What have you been doing in Oklahoma?"

Angel hesitated a moment longer before his eyes fell on the ring on Lindsey’s finger. He gestured to it.

— "Promise me you won’t take it off."

Lindsey’s eyes widened in shock.

"What? What have you done, Angel? Why do you think I’m going to take my ring off? How bad is it?"

— "It’s not bad! But… you’re going to be mad," the vampire replied.

Lindsey crossed his arms for a moment and stared at him. Then he firmly signed:

"I’m already mad since this conversation took this turn. Talk! What’s in Oklahoma?"

His gestures had become much faster, clearly showing his growing frustration.

Angel ran a hand over his face, then lowered his eyes before saying, in a more measured voice:

— "Eliot. Eliot lives in Oklahoma."

The silence that followed was heavier than anything else.

Then, Lindsey exploded. He leapt from the bed, a silent scream on his lips. Raging, he knocked over everything on the nightstand in the process, as if to compensate for the fact that he couldn’t shout, he needed to throw things, to make noise, in order to vent the fury he couldn’t voice. He stormed out of the bedroom, anger etched across his features.

Angel followed him immediately, catching up with him in the living room. He wanted to explain, but Lindsey silenced him with a single gesture and stormed out into the garden, straight into the sunlight.

Angel closed his eyes for a moment. When he reopened them, his gaze landed on the empty space between the couch and the coffee table. He had cleaned up all the blood and mess from the day before while Lindsey was sleeping, but hadn’t yet rearranged the furniture. Their passionate, playful lovemaking from the previous night suddenly felt so far away.

Angel knew Lindsey needed calm and space. He was starting to understand him. His tantrums were violent but never lasted long. Lindsey just needed time to think for a while.

But time passed, and he didn’t come back. Angel began to worry. He didn’t want to disturb him, but in the end, he couldn’t stand it any longer. He opened the back door and stepped onto the threshold, where the sun couldn’t reach him.

Lindsey was in the middle of the garden, simply sitting cross-legged on a lounge chair. He had his back turned. The sun was strong. There was no way to get to him.

Suddenly, a glint caught Angel’s eye. There, barely two steps away from him, on the garden wall. Lindsey had taken off his ring.

Something broke inside Angel. He had gone too far. He had thought he was doing the right thing, but he had crossed a line. Immediately, Angel went back inside. In a hurry, he grabbed a pen and a sheet of paper. He had to explain, to ask for forgiveness.

The words flowed. Words of apology, words of love, words of pleading. Another chance.

In the garden, Lindsey was lost in thought. He had instinctively taken off his ring, as if in reaction to Angel’s request not to. But the anger had subsided, as it always did. Now, he just felt lost. A fiancé who lied to him. A brother he hadn’t seen in over ten years and who might be waiting for him now. Everything was getting mixed up. He no longer knew where he stood, no longer knew what he wanted.

Minutes passed, and he couldn’t bring himself to go back inside.

His train of thought was interrupted by a movement, and a paper airplane landed a few inches from him. Lindsey didn’t turn around. But he could feel Angel’s presence a few meters behind him, standing on the threshold, in the shade.

He gazed at the paper airplane for a moment, as if reluctant to touch it. Then, finally, he reached out and picked it up. He ran a finger over the folds before slowly unfolding it, unable to keep from smiling. Angel’s words seemed rushed, as if he had tried to say everything in just a few lines.

I’m sorry. I thought I was doing the right thing, and I screwed up. I just wanted for you to have the chance to enjoy your family, the chance I never got. I didn’t mean to hurt you. And yet I did. So much that you took off your ring… I’d do anything to see it back on your finger, sweetheart. I don’t want to lose you, Lindsey. I love you.

Lindsey closed his eyes, his hand tightening around the paper. His first instinct would have been to turn and sign a reply, but he needed to be sure Angel would understand. With no ambiguity, with no risk of misunderstanding.

He stood up abruptly and headed for the house.

Angel, still standing in the doorway, tensed slightly as he saw him approach. He didn’t say anything, just looked at him, waiting for a sign, a reaction. Lindsey didn’t slow down, simply walking past him with determination. But without anger.

Angel watched him go, then quickly glanced toward the garden wall. The ring was still there, glinting in the sunlight. He didn’t think twice, and just rushed to grab it, reaching out fast enough to avoid burning. The ring nestled in his palm, warm to the touch, and he tightened his hand around it as he stepped back inside.

Lindsey was already sitting at the living room table, grabbing a notebook and pen. He didn’t look up at Angel, but his posture was calmer, more composed. Angel stopped a few steps away, silent, patient. He didn’t want to rush him.

Slowly, Lindsey let the pen flow across the page, his handwriting firm and precise, reflecting the determination behind each letter. He wanted every word to matter.

When he was done, he set the pen down and took a deep breath before handing the notebook to Angel. The vampire lowered his eyes to the carefully written message:

I know I often make bad decisions. Very often, in fact. But you said I was being good these last two years, right? So I need you to trust me. I don’t want someone making decisions for me, without telling me. I don’t want someone who stops me from making my own choices. I need my husband to be a partner, someone who listens to me, who guides me if needed, but who respects my decisions. Can you be that man?

Angel slowly raised his head and met Lindsey’s gaze. Emotion tightened his throat.

— "Yes," he answered without hesitation. "Yes, I can and I want to be that man."

His voice was low, filled with unflinching sincerity, and Lindsey sighed, nodding in a gesture of forgiveness. Angel set the notebook down on the table and spontaneously dropped to one knee.

Lindsey flinched slightly at the movement and stared at him.

Without a word, Angel opened his palm and held out the ring in front of him in a silent request.

A shiver ran through Lindsey as he raised his hand. Slowly, he formed a single word in sign language.

"Yes."

It would always be "yes." Despite the struggles, the arguments, and the hypothetical amputations.

A smile spread across Angel’s lips as he slid the ring back onto his finger. Lindsey let him guide the gesture, his other hand coming to rest on the vampire’s cheek, and then he pulled him into a kiss that sealed their reconciliation.

— "Are you still mad?" Angel asked softly as they pulled apart.

Lindsey pretended to think, then parted his fingers slightly. "A little bit."

— "Well… I don’t know if this is the right time but…" Angel began before interrupting himself and walking over to his coat.

Without a word, he handed him Eliot’s letter.

Lindsey looked at him uncomprehendingly, then opened the letter.

Hey, baby brother…

Surprised, he looked up at Angel, eyes full of questions.

— "I don’t know what’s in it," Angel replied. "You don’t have to read it if you don’t want to. And if you do, you don’t have to respond either. You’re the master of your own decisions."

Lindsey stared at the letter without truly seeing it for a few seconds. Then he sat down on the couch.

— "I’ll make you some breakfast." Angel gently said. "Take your time. I’ll be right here if you need me."

Lindsey took at least ten full minutes before unfolding the letter again. His eyes misted over at the first words: "Hey, baby brother…" He stared at them for several seconds, then finally continued.

Hey, baby brother,

It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other that I don’t know how to start… I can’t imagine what you look like, how you react, how your life’s going… Pretty well I guess, since I heard you’re getting married apparently. Another shock. I never would’ve imagined you’d be the type to settle down. But again, I don’t know you anymore. You were in your twenties the last time we saw each other…
Well, your future husband seems nice. He’s young, but he looks serious. He clearly cares about you. That’s what any big brother hopes for each of his little siblings, I guess. So, congratulations. I wish you all the happiness in this marriage.

Eliot

P.S.: I’ll be in L.A. next week for work. I know there’s a lot left unresolved between you and me. A lot of things left unsaid. Before Angel showed up, I never thought I’d hear your name again. Even with Lisa, we avoid talking about you. So I never imagined seeing you again, let alone considering reconciling with you. Your future husband knows how to be persuasive. If that’s what you want too, Angel has my number. You can contact me.

Lindsey reread the letter a second time. It felt like the words were dancing before his eyes. His fingers clenched around the sheet, as a strange warmth rose in his throat.

He never would have believed Eliot would write. Not after all this time. There was distance, an obvious reserve, but no hostility. Just… a man who didn’t know how to talk to him anymore.

Lindsey leaned back against the couch, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. He felt drained, even though he’d only just woken up, caught between relief he didn’t want to admit to himself and an old pain he’d rather not have awakened. He wished it had been simpler. That this letter would’ve made him angry, that he could crumple it up and throw it away without regret. But it wasn’t that easy.

He placed the letter next to him and rubbed his temples. His heart was beating faster than he would have liked.

Angel returned with a tray, which he set down on the coffee table, then sat beside Lindsey. His eyes lingered on the letter, then moved to his fiancé.

— "Do you want to share about it?"

"He says he’ll be in L.A. next week," Lindsey signed simply.

— "Are you going to see him?" Angel asked gently.

Lindsey didn’t answer right away. His gaze had drifted into the distance. He shrugged. He wasn’t ready to answer yet. He just didn’t know.

Angel wrapped an arm around his shoulders, drawing him tenderly against his side.

— "You’ve got time to decide," he murmured, pressing a kiss to Lindsey’s temple. "And I can go with you if you want. Or not. Whatever feels right to you."

Lindsey nodded.

"He thinks you’re younger than me," he signed with a faint smile, changing the subject.

Angel smiled back.

— "Let’s avoid telling him I’m over 250 years old, don’t you think?"

"That, and also that you’re a vampire, that we tried to kill each other, that you bite me pretty regularly… Oh god, we’re going to have to be careful with everything!" Lindsey added with exaggerated gestures, imagining what he’d do if Eliot found out about all this.

— "You used the future, didn’t you?" Angel asked, mimicking Lindsey’s motion. "Does that mean you’re going to see him?"

Lindsey hesitated. The gesture had come to him on its own.

"Maybe, yeah," he finally signed.

Chapter Text

Lindsey had arrived early. He couldn’t have said exactly why. Maybe because he wasn’t sure he would be able to walk in if he saw Eliot already sitting inside. Maybe because he needed those few extra minutes to quiet that damn knot in his stomach.

He sat at a table near the window, where he could see Eliot coming. It had been so long. He wondered if he would even recognize him. Angel had said they looked quite alike.

Absentmindedly, he started fiddling with the paper napkin in front of him. He didn’t order right away. He didn’t even know if he’d be able to swallow anything.

Eliot arrived right on time. Not a minute late.

Lindsey recognized him instantly. Angel had been right.

He was slightly taller, broader in the shoulders. In ten years, he seemed to have gained in muscle what Lindsey had gained in legal expertise. He entered without hesitation, his steel-blue gaze sweeping across the room with natural confidence before locking onto him. For a moment, Lindsey felt like he had been thrown back years, to the days when Eliot was the one leading the way, the one he followed and tried to impress.

Lindsey stood up when he reached his table. They looked at each other, without saying anything. Two brothers who didn’t know how to act around each other.

— "Hi, Lindsey," Eliot eventually said, his tone softer than his appearance suggested.

Lindsey froze. It was strange to hear his name spoken by that voice he hadn’t heard in so many years. He simply waved his hand in response, then gestured to the chair across from him. Eliot nodded and sat down, a bit stiffly. He knew Lindsey had lost his voice, but it was as if he hadn’t fully realized what that implied until he saw him again.

An uncomfortable silence settled between them as they watched each other. Eliot wore his security uniform – in his letter, he had told Lindsey that he was there for work after all. The fabric strained slightly against his chest and suddenly, Lindsey felt much smaller than he really was.

— "Do you want something to drink?" Eliot finally asked, grabbing the menu with a slightly brusque gesture.

Lindsey shook his head, then pointed toward Eliot with his chin to return the question.

— "A coffee."

A waiter came, took the order and brought it over right away, then they were alone again. The silence was heavy. Eliot drummed his fingers lightly on the table, a clear sign of his unease.

— "You…" He paused, searching for words, then continued more hesitantly. "How are you doing? You can hear me, right?"

Lindsey nodded. Then he smiled and gave a thumbs-up. Yes, he was doing fine.

Eliot took a sip of coffee. He set the cup down, rubbed his hands together, then blurted out, almost involuntarily:

— "It’s weird seeing you like this."

He instantly regretted his words. Lindsey caught the twitch in his jaw, like he wanted to swallow back what he’d just said. Eliot had always been the type to say what he thought without thinking… which got him into a lot of trouble...

Lindsey took out the notebook he used to communicate with people who didn’t understand sign language.

Mute? he wrote.

Eliot nodded.

— "Yeah… You couldn’t keep your mouth shut when you were a kid, remember?"

Again, Eliot seemed to regret his words right away, as if afraid he’d stirred up some painful memories.

But Lindsey smiled.

It’s true, I remember, he wrote.

— "How did it happen?" then Eliot dared to ask, his features softening with concern.

Lindsey paused for a moment, his fingers hovering over the page. How could he explain that he had lost his voice due to a magical incantation meant to stop the Devil from unleashing hell on Earth…

He ended up writing:

It’s complicated.

Eliot just nodded, respecting what he took as a sign of modesty. His eyes, however, narrowed slightly. The same look he'd had younger when he knew his little brother was holding something back.

Another long silence followed.

— "I have another complicated question, Linds," Eliot challenged, breaking the quiet. His voice hardened, and he unconsciously flexed his fingers, as if preparing for a fight. "Why did you cut ties with us? What happened? I know you were close to Mom, but dammit, Lisa was counting on you. Sam too, even if he’d never admit it. You didn’t even come to the funeral, Linds!"

Lindsey took the hit. He had expected this question, of course. But not so soon. And not so… harsh. He leaned over his notebook but didn’t write anything down. The words wouldn’t come. Not because of his mutism this time.

I couldn’t do it, he finally wrote. It was easier to leave everything behind.

Eliot clenched his jaw and his gaze darkened as his voice became heavier.

— "Couldn’t do what? Easier for who? Because it sure as hell wasn’t easy for us."

Lindsey felt his stomach tighten. He looked down at his notebook, unable to hold his brother’s gaze under the weight of his own bad choices. The memories came crashing back. His mother’s face. Holland’s, too. "You should take a vacation, Lindsey…" His throat tightened, and his trembling hand dropped the pen.

Eliot sighed and ran a hand over his face. He hadn’t meant to come on so strongly, but he couldn’t just ignore everything either. Ten years of silence, and now they were here, sizing each other up like strangers. With a visible effort, he relaxed his shoulders, trying not to let the resentment get the best of him.

— "Sorry. I didn’t mean to… be aggressive," he apologized.

Lindsey looked up and shook his head. It wasn’t Eliot’s fault. It was his. For a few moments, they watched each other. Eliot’s eyes were piercing, as if trying to dig into Lindsey’s. But the lawyer had regained some composure, a quiet resolve that showed he was no longer the kid brother who followed.

— "I just want to understand, Linds," continued Eliot, his voice more composed, though still dark with unsaid feelings. "Why did you leave like that? Was it because I wasn’t there? Because I screwed up and ended up in jail?"

Lindsey opened his mouth in an absurd reflex. He swallowed and reached for his pen.

No. It had nothing to do with that! he wrote hastily.

Eliot frowned.

— "Then explain it to me."

Lindsey remained motionless. His hand clenched the pen so tightly his knuckles turned white. He wanted to tell him the truth. That it was his fault their mother had died. That Wolfram & Hart had killed her to punish him, to keep him under their thumb. But he just couldn’t. He spun the pen between his fingers, unable to write.

Eliot watched him struggle against himself. There was an unexpected patience in how he waited and let his little brother take his time.

— "You think I’m going to judge you?" he finally asked as Lindsey wasn’t responding.

Lindsey gave a bitter smile.

You should. You have every right to be angry.

Eliot huffed, a mirthless smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

— "Honestly, baby brother, you have no idea the kind of crap I’ve done." He shook his head. "You’re not the only one carrying the weight of the past. And if you think I’m going to walk away just because you’ve got ghosts up your ass, then you really don’t know me anymore."

Lindsey felt a lump rise in his throat. His own ghosts had caught up with him not so long ago: the guilt he’d managed to bury by leaving Wolfram & Hart had come back full force when he learned the criminal he’d helped free had done the unthinkable. He looked down and let his pen trace a shaky line of words.

These last two months have been rough. Complicated. I’m a bit lost right now, Eliot.

A silence fell over the table. Eliot watched his brother for a long moment, then slowly nodded and sighed. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, and finally said, more gently:

— "I guess we don’t have to fix everything today…"

Lindsey looked up and Eliot gave a small smile, momentarily erasing the hard edges life had carved into him and bringing them back to when they were both innocent. Poor, quite unhappy, but innocent.

— "But now that I’ve found you, you’d better not disappear again. Got it?"

Lindsey stared at him for a moment, rediscovering the protective glance that had followed him through all his childhood. He slowly nodded.

It was a start.

---

Lindsey parked his truck in front of the house and turned off the engine. Beside him, Eliot look outside with an appreciative little whistle before glancing over at him.

— "Nice place. Yours?" he asked, his usual gruff tone softened by genuine admiration.

Lindsey grabbed his notebook and quickly wrote: Ours. Mine and Angel’s.

Eliot raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips.

— "Not bad. Big step up from the trailer... Should’ve been a lawyer myself."

Lindsey shot him a mock-exasperated look before getting out of the truck. Eliot followed, casting one last glance at the house before stepping inside.

In the living room, Angel was sitting in an armchair, a book open on his lap. Hearing the door, he raised his head, and a smile immediately appeared on his face when he saw that Eliot was accompanying Lindsey. He set the book down on the coffee table and stood to greet him.

— "Eliot, good to see you again."

Eliot nodded with a small smile.

— "Angel."

Without hesitation, the vampire offered him a firm handshake, which Eliot returned with equal strength. Then Angel leaned over to kiss Lindsey on the temple.

"I told Eliot he could stay the night," Lindsey immediately signed. "I hope that’s okay with you."

— "Of course, we’ve got the space!" Angel replied right away. "And it would’ve been silly to pay for a hotel, right?" he added, turning to Eliot.

— "Uh, yeah," Eliot murmured, a little uncertain since he had only caught half the conversation. His eyes darted between them, trying to follow their semi-silent exchange.

"I’ll get everything ready and come back with something to drink," Lindsey signed before leaving the room.

Eliot watched him walk away, still not quite sure what had been said, then turned to Angel.

— "So, you know sign language..." he remarked.

— "Oh, sorry!" Angel said, realizing Eliot probably hadn’t understood what Lindsey had explained. "Lindsey just told me you’re staying the night, and he went to check the guest room. Sorry, sign language has become a habit, it was unconscious. But I’ll play interpreter tonight, makes things easier."

— "Thanks," Eliot replied simply.

An odd silence settled. Eliot looked around the room for a moment.

— "It’s a beautiful house..." he said, trying a neutral topic.

— "Thanks," Angel replied. "There are still a few rooms we want to renovate, but we feel good here."

Lindsey came back at that moment, carrying a tray of snacks and drinks. They sat down, and Angel raised his glass for a toast:

— "To reunions?" he suggested.

"And to family," Lindsey added.

Angel quickly echoed it aloud for Eliot, and they all drank.

— "So, how exactly did you two meet?" Eliot asked, leaning forward slightly, his forearms resting on his thighs.

Lindsey and Angel exchanged a glance.

— "At work..." Angel eventually answered.

— "Work, huh?" Eliot turned to Angel, his head tilting as he gauged him. "Sorry, but you don’t really look like a lawyer..."

Angel chuckled.

— "Let’s just say we were in the same field, but not on the same side. I caught the criminals, Lindsey tried to get them free."

Eliot genuinely burst out laughing.

— "Seriously? A cop with a lawyer?"

— "Officially, a detective," Angel clarified. "But my agency handles... different things, actually."

Eliot nodded, visibly interested.

— "You’re quite young to already run your own agency..." he remarked. "What are you, 25?"

Angel smiled, uneasy. Eliot definitely asked all the tricky questions.

— "Twenty-six."

Eliot nodded with a smirk.

— "Oh yeah, so almost ten years apart… You sure this isn’t just some kind of rebellion phase, Linds?" he mocked, with the kind of teasing tone that only an older brother can have.

Lindsey immediately wrote in his notebook: Go to hell!

Eliot chuckled.

— "That’s reassuring. At least you haven’t changed. Still got that bite, even in writing." He gave Angel a friendly pat on the shoulder. "Not sure you made the right choice, man... This guy’s a real pain in the ass."

Angel couldn’t help but smile.

— "Trust me, I know. I’ve always said he’s exasperating!" he replied, as his fiancé gave him a mock-offended look.

Lindsey rolled his eyes. But even though they were teasing him, a faint smile played on his lips as he watched Angel and Eliot joking around like they’d known each other for years.

That was when the front door opened.

— "Hey, Dad. Hey Lindsey."

Connor’s voice echoed from the hallway like a bomb going off. Eliot froze, his glass suspended in the air. Angel almost choked on his drink. Lindsey, for his part, slowly lifted his gaze toward Connor, who had just walked in casually.

Eliot turned his head toward him, his eyebrows shooting up.

— "...Excuse me? ‘Hey, Dad’?"

Connor stopped short, looking between Angel, Lindsey, and Eliot with a slight frown. He didn’t seem to understand what was causing the sudden tension.

— "Oh, uh... Evening. I’m Connor," he announced, introducing himself with an awkward smile.

Eliot stared at Connor’s outstretched hand but didn’t take it. He slowly set his glass down on the table, then turned toward Angel. His expression had shifted from relaxed to interrogative in an instant.

— "Mind explaining how you have an adult son when you just told me you’re twenty-six?"

Angel opened his mouth, then closed it, and threw a desperate look at Lindsey, who gave him a completely unhelpful smile in return. They should have prepared an explanation… Too late.

— "Ah. Uh." Angel was scrambling for a plausible answer. "It’s... complicated."

Eliot raised an eyebrow, making his scar stand out more clearly.

— "Complicated how? You had a kid at five?"

Angel hesitated, running a hand over his face. Fuck, they really should’ve thought about this before... His mind was spinning as he tried to come up with a story that would hold up. Beside him, Lindsey seemed to be struggling just as much.

— "Let’s just say... it’s a long story," Angel finally said.

Eliot crossed his arms, his biceps flexing beneath his shirt sleeve, and he leaned back in his seat with the patience of someone who'd spent hours on stakeouts.

— "I’ve got all night. I’m sleeping here, remember?"

Lindsey put his glass down and signed, knowing Eliot wouldn’t understand: "Tell him it’s an adoption. It’s the easiest."

Angel looked up at Eliot.

— "It’s an adoption," he declared, trying to sound convincing, or so he hoped.

Eliot stared at him for a moment, not fooled.

— "Do you think I’m stupid? You took forever to answer and watched Lindsey sign first. It’s not credible at all."

His voice was level but firm, the tone of a man accustomed to cutting through bullshit. Angel pressed his lips together, then clarified:

— "Connor isn’t officially my son, but let’s just say I took care of him during a certain time in his life. It wasn’t easy, because of… the age difference and some other things… but... we’re family. The three of us."

He had managed to come up with something plausible and, what’s more, without lying (more or less). Beside him, Lindsey looked at him, both impressed by the answer and touched to be included in Angel’s family.

Eliot, still skeptical, was about to retort, but he stopped himself when he saw the way Lindsey was smiling at Angel. His piercing eyes softened. Maybe it was a lie… But after all, maybe he didn’t need to know the whole truth.

He turned back to Connor and finally shook his hand, his grip firm but not challenging.

— "Nice to meet you, Connor. I’m Eliot, Lindsey’s brother."

— "Oh, nice to meet you! So considering that Lindsey is about to become my stepdad in, what, a week, does that make you my uncle?"

Startled, Eliot let out a strangled cough, as Lindsey burst into silent laughter. He wasn’t sure whether to berate Connor for the ‘stepdad’ comment again or tease Eliot for his reaction. Amusement won out, and Connor joined him, sitting beside him on the couch.

— "Damn it… You guys have a complicated family," Eliot said, recovering. "If you’ve got any other secret kids who might show up, say it now, please. Just so I have time to prepare for being an uncle."

Lindsey smiled but shook his head, reassuring his brother.

Chapter Text

It was almost dark when the luxury car that Angel had rented for the occasion pulled up in front of the administrative building where they were to sign their domestic partnership.

He turned off the engine, but neither of them moved right away. Through the window, Angel stared at the entrance for a moment, his fingers tightening slightly on the wheel. He could feel Lindsey just as still beside him. They were both suddenly a little nervous. It was becoming real.

"There’s still time for you to run away…" Lindsey signed with a smile that was meant to look casual. "In a few minutes, you’ll officially be stuck with me."

— "That’s what I want," Angel answered tenderly.

Without looking away from his lover, he reached out and intertwined their fingers, exerting light but firm pressure. Lindsey inhaled slightly, and a sincere smile relaxed his features.

"You do realize we were trying to kill each other a few years ago?" he signed a moment later with strange nostalgia.

— "I remember…" Angel replied. "Maybe sometimes I still want to…" he teased.

Lindsey put on an offended face and Angel chuckled. They really had come a long way.

They got out of the car and paused a moment before entering, taking the time to look at one another. Lindsey had tied his hair back into a small ponytail and was wearing a dark blue suit that brought out the sparkle of his eyes. The fabric hugged his figure with impeccable precision, giving him a natural confidence that tonight seemed to waver slightly under emotion. At his side, Angel was dressed in black, as always, but with a natural elegance. In both their eyes, feelings swirled: admiration, impatience, happiness. And pure love.

"This is all feeling a bit gay..." Lindsey remarked.

— "What?" Angel exclaimed. "Lin, I know we both dated women before, but right now... we are gay."

"I know... I just didn’t think I’d be this gay..." replied Lindsey, exaggerating the gesture.

Angel shook his head, incredulous.

— "This is just nonsense because you’re nervous. Come on, let’s go before you change your mind."

With that, he grabbed Lindsey’s hand and pulled him toward the building, leaving him no chance to sign back a response.

Inside, Connor was waiting for them, and beside him, stood Wesley, looking solemn.

— "Ready to officially become my stepdad?" Connor couldn’t help but ask, teasing.

Lindsey rolled his eyes at the running gag but smiled. Yes, he was ready.

Next to him, Wesley gave him a strange look.

— "I hope you did things right. Because if the administration finds the slightest anomaly…" he murmured, nodding toward the waiting official.

Lindsey rolled his eyes again before placing a hand on Wesley’s shoulder and confirming with a gesture that everything was perfectly in order. In fact, he had personally asked an official he knew well to be there.

Angel raised an eyebrow, and Wesley sighed, the habit of this nonsense written all over his face.

— "I don’t even want to know what you had to fiddle with…"

Connor chuckled, clearly recognizing Lindsey.

The lawyer had always been meticulous when it came to making sure things went the way he wanted, and his union with Angel was no exception. He had taken care of every legal detail in advance, using his connections to avoid the usual complications.

The domestic partnership was ready, pre-approved by a discreet official who had agreed to come in the evening hours specifically for the occasion, thanks to a well-placed contact. As for Angel’s name change, Lindsey had anticipated the procedure, obtaining prior approval from a judge with whom he had long-standing ties. Everything was in order, and the vampire could sign both documents at the same time.

Angel wasn’t surprised. He knew Lindsey had fought hard to ensure that this night was not just symbolic, but a real, legal recognition of their commitment. The paperwork didn’t matter to the vampire. Still, he couldn’t help but be moved as he leaned in. He cast an emotional glance at Lindsey before writing his name on the line.

Liam McDonald.

It was the first time he had written it officially. There was no hesitation in his hand. He had never been attached to a name; he’d had several throughout his life. But this one, he was choosing it for the man standing beside him. Liam McDonald. His original first name, linked to Lindsey’s surname.

He looked up at Lindsey, trying to read his expression, but all he saw was genuine love and a hint of pride in his eyes.

He handed the form and the pen to Lindsey, who in turn signed the domestic partnership with a firm hand.

As official witnesses, Wesley and Connor took the documents and scanned them before giving them to the official in charge.

— "Everything’s in order. These documents will be registered as of tomorrow," the man confirmed.

— "Congratulations! You are now officially bound by the legal ties of domestic partnership," Wesley declared with a smile.

— "Congratulations!" Connor echoed, this time without sarcasm.

Lindsey didn’t wait a second longer. He turned to Angel and, in one fluid motion, drew the vampire toward him, sliding a hand to the back of his neck. His gaze gleamed with raw emotion he made no attempt to hide. Without further restraint, he pressed his lips against Angel’s.

The kiss started slow, almost delicate, but within seconds it deepened, fueled by the overwhelming feelings flowing between them. Lindsey pressed himself harder against the vampire, feeling Angel’s grip tighten around his waist. It was a kiss laden with a silent promise, a declaration that needed no words.

The world around them vanished. There were no more officials, no more paperwork, no more bureaucracy. Just the two of them, and the certainty washing over Angel with undeniable force: he had made the right choice. In that moment, there was only Lindsey’s warmth against him, the softness of his lips, and the truth that he had never belonged to anyone as much as he did at this very moment.

Wesley’s discreet throat-clearing finally brought them back to reality.

— "I think you’re expected outside," the former watcher remarked.

Lindsey didn’t pull away immediately, prolonging the contact a few seconds longer. He let his lips graze Angel’s one last time, in a kiss barely brushed but filled with tenderness. His gaze lingered on the vampire’s face, studying every detail with unsettling intensity, as if trying to imprint the moment in his memory. Then, with his fingertips, he traced a heart on the chest of the man who was now officially his partner for life.

Angel caught his hand and squeezed lightly, his eyes locked with Lindsey’s.

— "I love you too, my heart," he whispered softly.

Following Wesley and Connor, Angel and Lindsey stepped outside the administrative building hand in hand. They had barely set foot outside when cheers erupted, echoing in the crisp night air.

Sienna, beaming, clapped loudly and called out joyfully,

— "Congratulations!"

Next to her, Gunn, less demonstrative, just smiled. Illyria, who had agreed to mingle with the mortals for the occasion, simply nodded in acknowledgment.

Lindsey let his gaze sweep over the small gathering. With pleasure, he noticed Eliot and smiled at him. The man stood slightly apart, arms crossed over his chest. His expression wasn’t particularly hostile, but something in his eyes betrayed a certain perplexity. He was staring at Lorne, as if struggling to decide whether he was facing a hallucination or an elaborate joke.

Lindsey pursed his lips and exchanged a glance with Angel. Avoiding awkward questions was going to be a challenge throughout the evening. A quick look at Nate and his band members confirmed they were just as confused, their eyes shifting between their guitarist and the green demon standing a few feet away in a sparkling suit.

Lorne, for his part, didn’t miss a beat and approached Eliot with a wide smile.

— "What? I’ve got something between my horns?" he exclaimed, slinging a green arm around his shoulders.

Eliot froze, startled by the sudden closeness of this... creature he still couldn’t define. He disengaged himself, trying to stay polite, and turned to Lindsey.

— "Damn it, I fucking hope you’ve got booze, because I’m really not drunk enough for this..."

Lorne gave him a pat on the shoulder.

— "Oh, don’t worry, peanut, you’ll get there!"

A general laugh went up, relaxing the atmosphere even more, and Eliot joined his brother, putting as much distance as possible between himself and the demon without seeming rude.

— "He is green, man…" he muttered to Lindsey, who only gave an innocent smile, clearly glad to be mute this time so he didn’t have to give an explanation.

— "He’s an artist…" Angel answered awkwardly, as if working in the show business excused being green.

Eliot shook his head, again not fooled. But again, he let go.

— "Lisa sends her apologies for not being able to come," he said to Lindsey, changing the subject. "It was too last-minute to cancel her plans. And Sam… Well, you know Sam. It’s going to be a little harder with him…"

Lindsey nodded. He was fine with his little sister – well, ten years earlier he was – but he’d always had a complicated relationship with his other brother. But with all the people here today, this was better than perfect.

After the usual congratulations, hugs, and a few jokes, Angel placed a hand on Lindsey’s back and gently steered him toward the car.

— "We’d better get going before someone decides to throw rice or confetti at us."

Lindsey gave a small smile and followed him.

They climbed into the luxurious car waiting for them, ready to head to the venue they had rented for the occasion, as their guests applauded.

Illyria, now standing beside Wesley, observed the scene with a scrutinizing gaze.

— "Is this union as valuable as a mating ritual from my reign? Is it honorable enough?" she asked, shaking her blue hair under Eliot’s once again baffled look.

Wesley cleared his throat slightly, readjusting his glasses.

— "Yes, yes, it’s honorable. Well... I guess that’s one way to look at it…" he replied, briefly thinking of all Lindsey’s shenanigans.

— "Damn it, I’m really going to need a beer…" Eliot muttered. "Or maybe two. Or three. A whole case would be fine after all…"

---

The meal was in full swing in a simple yet tastefully decorated room. Lorne and Lindsey had put together a playlist that provided a relaxed atmosphere, with more danceable tracks planned for later in the evening.

As plates were gradually emptied, the guests enjoyed the evening in their own way. Conversations grew livelier as the tables were cleared, and soon, everyone found their place in the cozy room. Angel found himself near the bar with Eliot, two taciturn men in a corner.

Holding a glass of blood (officially wine), the vampire observed his husband enjoying the night, dancing with Connor and Lorne. Lindsey had a radiant smile on his face, and Angel couldn’t take his eyes off him. He looked stunning like that – completely free, lost in the music, fulfilled. Inwardly, Angel once again thanked Willow: this was perfect happiness.

Lindsey, Connor, and Lorne were soon joined on the dance floor by Nate and Lindsey’s friends, who had already sampled most of the cocktails and clearly intended to keep the energy up. The evening was taking a more festive turn.

Still seated at the table with Wesley, Illyria seemed to be wondering whether mingling with the dancers was worthy of her rank. A little farther away, Sienna was deep in conversation with Gunn, a bright smile on her face, and Angel found himself wondering if they might be celebrating a second wedding within the year.

Suddenly, Angel felt a hand grab his. Lindsey. And just like that, the music stopped, plunging the room into attentive silence.

— "Lin, my love... I…" Angel began softly, feeling every eye turning toward them. "I told you I’d rather skip this part…"

But Lindsey quickly signed, his gaze almost supplying the words:

"I would have loved to sing at our wedding… I’ve lost my voice, but I still have two legs for now. So dance with me, please."

Angel rolled his eyes, but a smile hovered on his lips.

— "You know I can’t say no to that argument, right?"

Lindsey gave a triumphant smile. Angel glanced around: Lorne had already raised his glass with a wink, Connor was watching them with an amused look, and even Eliot seemed curious to see how this would go.

So Angel gave in. Taking Lindsey’s hand, he let himself be led to the center of the dance floor.

The lights softened slightly as the first notes of a familiar melody played from the speakers.

Angel blinked. He turned his head toward Lorne, who gave him another grin and raised his glass again.

— "Sorry, Angelcakes. He insisted on finding out."

Angel turned his attention back to Lindsey, whose eyes sparkled.

— "You picked this, Lin?"

"Of course. It’s your favorite song, isn’t it?"

— "At least I dodged a country dance…" Angel whispered.

Lindsey replied with a mischievous little smile that said a lot about what might be on the agenda for the evening.

Angel shook his head with a soft laugh. Then he smiled back and kissed him. Lindsey pressed close, placing a hand on his neck, and Angel instinctively wrapped an arm around his waist. They began to dance, the chords of “Mandy” echoing through the small room.

Unaccustomed to this kind of public display, the vampire was slightly tense. But soon, Lindsey’s touch, the warmth of his body against his own, and the happy, tender look in his eyes dissolved all hesitation. Angel slid a hand to the small of his back, closing the distance between them, and adjusted his steps, finding a smooth, almost intimate rhythm. Their movements synced naturally, and instinctively, Angel’s fingers found Lindsey’s nape. Gently, he undid the hair tie holding his small ponytail. The brown strands fell across his shoulders, and Angel’s fingers immediately tangled in them, savoring the sensation.

In response, he felt Lindsey’s fingers tenderly stroke his back, a subtle gesture, yet enough to convey all his feelings.

"I never realized how happy you made me, oh Mandy…"

Lindsey tightened his embrace a little more, savoring the moment. Around them, the world had faded away. No more curious glances, no more amused smiles. Just the two of them, swaying to the song, drifting with the lyrics.

"Well you kissed me and stopped me from shaking and I need you today, oh Mandy."

— "And I need you today, oh Lindsey," Angel whispered.

Chapter Text

Angel parked the car right in front of the small house they had rented for their honeymoon in Carmel-by-the-Sea. The engine went silent, giving way to the sound of the waves breaking against the rocks of the little cove nearby. The night was peaceful, and the place was secluded and tranquil, the perfect setting for two people who wanted to enjoy some privacy before heading off to less hospitable destinations.

Lindsey opened the car door and, walking past Angel who was unloading their suitcases, crossed the small living room and stepped onto the terrace facing the ocean. He smiled. He couldn’t remember ever being this happy. In peace, he took a deep breath of the sea air. He loved that scent of salt, the light breeze brushing against his skin. He was almost surprised by the stillness of the place, so far from the chaos of Los Angeles, from the worries of work and daily life. Here, there was only the sea and the sand. And Angel. His husband. A new word, a word he had signed for the first time only a few hours earlier, with a joy he hadn’t been able to hide.

Behind him, the vampire quickly set down the suitcases and silently approached, wrapping his arms around Lindsey’s waist and kissing him on the neck. They stayed like that for a while, listening to the waves and savoring the softness of late summer. The moon reflected on the sea, and Lindsey suddenly had the urge to dip his feet in the water. He felt free, young, happy. Grabbing Angel’s hand, he kicked off his shoes and went down to the beach. The water was cold at this hour, just like his husband’s hand.

— "Are you happy?" the vampire asked suddenly.

"More than I ever could have imagined," Lindsey signed.

Angel squinted; it was difficult to decipher Lindsey’s gestures in the dark despite the moonlight, but he caught the heart of it and his smile was enough. In any case, this was no time for big talk. With a swift move, Angel wrapped his arms around Lindsey’s waist and lifted him off the ground. Lindsey let out a silent laugh, almost expecting to be tossed into the water, but the vampire simply laid him down on the sand. Tenderly, he ran his fingers through Lindsey’s hair, now spread out on the sand. A glint of desire shone in his eyes.

— "If you’re done admiring the view, maybe we could start enjoying this honeymoon properly, don’t you think?" the vampire suggested teasingly.

His smile was gentle and, in response, Lindsey simply pulled him down and kissed him. First tenderly, then with growing intensity. Their kiss deepened, their tongues seeking and caressing each other as they both gave in to the moment.

Lindsey’s fingers tugged at Angel’s jacket, sliding it down his shoulders until it fell into the sand. In mere moments, their clothes piled up around them, forgotten. Lindsey shivered when Angel began tracing a path of kisses along his collarbone, the coolness of his lips contrasting with the warmth rising in his own body. He let out a trembling breath, his own hands roaming over his lover’s body. A body he knew by heart but could never get tired of exploring.

Angel’s lips traveled lower and lower, until he reached Lindsey’s groin, savoring every reaction he provoked. The vampire took his time, teasing, tasting, adoring, while Lindsey let himself go under his attentions, head tilted back, lips parted, his breath escaping in ragged gasps.

When he felt Angel’s cool tongue penetrate him, Lindsey couldn’t help but open his mouth in a silent cry of pleasure. The sensation was delicious. Intense. Irresistible. His fingers dug into the sand as he nearly lost control.

Then a finger replaced Angel’s tongue at Lindsey’s entrance, sliding carefully inside him. The vampire was attentive, patient, making sure each sensation was a delight.

Pausing briefly, he slipped his jacket under Lindsey’s hips, trying to avoid the slightest grain of sand disturbing their pleasure. The thoughtfulness made Lindsey smile, even though he was already too far in ecstasy to worry about sand.

Then their bodies joined with the ease of long familiarity. But tonight, everything seemed to have a different flavor — like a promise, like a vow. Angel moved slowly, deeply, setting a rhythm that was almost hypnotic, and Lindsey welcomed him with total abandon. He clung to him, his nails leaving small marks on his lover’s pale skin as the wave of pleasure grew inside him, unstoppable and inevitable.

The pleasure swept over them, slow and deep, each movement infused with a tenderness that was almost overwhelming. When they reached the peak, it was in perfect sync, an echo of the bond that had formed between them long before this night.

Angel remained snuggled up to him for a long moment afterward, letting his fingers lazily brush over Lindsey’s still quivering skin, enjoying the peace.

In the darkness, only the sound of the waves reminded them that a world existed beyond.

After a few minutes of savoring the moment, Lindsey stood up under Angel’s surprised gaze, and headed for the pile of clothes a little further away. Finding his jeans, he rummaged through the pockets and pulled out a small note which he handed to Angel, who had joined him.

The vampire arched an eyebrow, intrigued.

— "What’s this?" he asked in an amused tone.

Lindsey simply gestured for him to read it.

Angel unfolded the paper and read the words under the moonlight:

There’s no exchange of rings in a domestic partnership. But I’d like you to accept this. It’s a token of my love and trust in you, and a symbol of our future together.

When Angel looked up, Lindsey was holding a small box in his hand. With a slightly nervous gesture, he opened it. Inside lay a simple but elegant ring, crafted from dark silver.

— "I know we’re already ‘married,’ but… shouldn’t you get down on one knee for this?" the vampire teased with a playful smile.

Lindsey rolled his eyes but smiled and knelt in front of him. He took Angel’s outstretched hand and gently slid the ring onto his finger. Angel couldn’t help but notice how perfectly it matched the engagement ring he himself had given Lindsey, which the latter still wore proudly.

As soon as Lindsey stood up, Angel drew him closer, brushing his lips against his in a kiss full of tenderness.

— "Thank you," he whispered against his mouth.

Angel gazed at the ring for a moment, turning it slightly between his fingers as if to imprint every detail in his memory.

— "I love you," he murmured, kissing him again, slow and sweet.

They stayed there, entwined, two naked men standing before the waves, the world fading away around them.

— "Want to go in the water?" Angel whispered after a few minutes.

Lindsey nodded, a smile tugging at his lips. It wouldn’t be long before the sun came up. Until then, he intended to enjoy his husband in every way possible.

---

The interior of the small house reflected them perfectly: simple, warm, and intimate. Large bay windows opened directly onto the ocean, offering a spectacular view — although, the heavy curtains had currently been drawn to prevent Angel from ending up in ashes.

They were sitting in the living room. After a few days of relaxation – among other activities –, Angel was now explaining to Lindsey what he had planned for the evening: Carmel-by-the-Sea hadn’t been chosen by accident. The town was well known among those who thrived after dark. On the coffee table, several newspaper clippings and a brochure advertising a supernatural tour of Monterey, the neighboring town, were spread out. Angel pointed to one in particular: the Mission San Carlos Borromeo, which, according to legend, was haunted by a ghost.

"Let me guess, it’s not a ghost?" Lindsey signed.

— "It’s a vampire. Old. Strange. A sort of hermit. He rarely feeds on human blood, except for those who venture too close. He apparently prefers demon blood. His way of life is… unusual, even by vampire standards."

"If he’s living in an old Christian mission, it’s definitely unusual…"

— "Some say he was a missionary before he was turned into a vampire, but there’s not much information about the massacre that happened here in the 1780s. Others think he was the one who committed the massacre himself…"

Angel paused for a moment, and they both looked at the illustration that accompanied the brochure's description: an asymmetrical bell tower, elegant arches, a lush garden. The basilica had been partly renovated fairly recently and there was even a small museum now. Yet supernatural manifestations were still frequently reported. Which likely meant the odd vampire was still there.

— "I think he might know certain things…" Angel continued. "Not necessarily about a cure or a way to make me human again, but… well. I don’t know… He has the reputation of… being a sort of wise old fool… He's actually quite respected…"

Lindsey nodded slowly. It wasn’t their strongest lead, but it had the merit of being easily reachable.

— "It was the closest option to Los Angeles," Angel added, confirming his thought. "So we might as well start there."

A small smirk tugged at Lindsey’s lips as he stretched slightly.

"A haunted mission, a Christian vampire… Not exactly a typical honeymoon!" he signed.

Angel smiled and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

— "You didn’t really expect an ordinary vacation, did you?" he teased playfully.

Lindsey rolled his eyes, but his smile widened. No, this trip was anything but ordinary. It was a quest they had decided to embark on more than two months ago, and now, it was finally beginning. Lindsey gently pressed his lips to Angel’s forehead. He was ready to dive headfirst into the unknown — they were together.

---

The sun had just disappeared below the horizon, giving way to darkness. From the passenger seat, Lindsey watched the last golden reflections of twilight drown in the ocean, while Angel drove the car along the road leading to the Mission San Carlos Borromeo.

The building soon appeared before them. Its bell tower stood out sharply silhouetted against the night sky, and the stone façade, worn by history, seemed almost to vibrate under the soft glow of the exterior lanterns. The elegant arches and carved wooden gate gave the place a solemn, mysterious aura.

Still inside the car, Angel handed Lindsey a small backpack.

— "Here."

Lindsey raised an eyebrow as he discovered its contents: flashbang grenades and several flares.

— "If we get separated, I want you to be able to warn me if there’s a problem."

Lindsey rolled one of the flares between his fingers before dropping it back into the bag.

"I’m mute but not defenseless, you know," he signed with a smirk, before slipping his hand into his pocket and pulling out his knife.

Angel nodded, satisfied. He trusted Lindsey and knew he was a good fighter, but he refused to take unnecessary risks.

— "Let’s go then."

They got out of the car. The gate opened without resistance and, as soon as they stepped into the courtyard, an almost sacred silence fell over them.

The inner garden, well-maintained, contrasted with the eerie aura of the place. Stone paths wound between blooming bushes and a central fountain, its water glistening under the pale starlight. Yet despite this peaceful appearance, a heavy tension seemed to hang in the air, as if the very walls were holding their breath.

Angel went first, guided by instinct, and Lindsey followed carefully. The main entrance of the basilica creaked softly as it opened, revealing a nave lined with ancient wooden pews. Above them, massive vaults formed an intricate pattern of shadows, and the stone statues of saints seemed to watch them with a mute, accusing gaze.

Angel paused for a moment to study the altar before turning left.

— "This way."

They crossed a narrow corridor, their cautious footsteps echoing on the stone floor. A reinforced wooden door blocked access to the staircase leading to the crypt. Angel placed his hand on the handle and easily forced it open.

A cold draft escaped from the opening, carrying the acrid scent of damp stone and incense.

Lindsey exchanged a glance with Angel before drawing his knife. With a flick of the wrist, the blade expanded to sword size.

Angel gave him a nod to check he was ready, then started down the stairs, noticing the torches, which, they both knew, shouldn’t have been lit.

The steps, carved directly into the rough stone, spiraled downward irregularly. The space was confined, forcing Angel and Lindsey to move one behind the other. The air grew heavier as they descended, thick with humidity and the smell of earth.

Angel led the way, his senses alert. They weren’t alone, he could feel it. And only Lindsey’s heart was beating: their host had to be a vampire. The one they were looking for, Angel hoped. A few paces behind, Lindsey advanced cautiously, sword ready to strike at the slightest threat. The torchlight cast shifting shadows across the stone walls.

They reached a vaulted chamber supported by thick stone pillars. On the walls, near to other torches, crosses of all sizes hung, a reminder that they were in a Christian mission — or that their host had peculiar tastes in decoration. Either way, the place was clearly dangerous for a vampire, and Lindsey moved protectively closer to Angel, who was inspecting the alcoves that held old tombs. The names and dates engraved on the marble slabs were barely readable after so many years. At the center, the tomb of Father Serra, the mission’s founder, was empty. Some legends claimed he was the ghost haunting the place. Others said he was its victim.

Angel stopped in the middle of the room. Turning slowly, he scanned every corner. It seemed empty at first glance, but in a recess, slightly hidden behind a column, stones seemed to have been carefully arranged in a circle. A ritual, both men thought immediately.

To their right, a small hidden door. With a nod, they moved toward it, passing other vaults that seemed to have been forced open.

"Be careful," Angel signaled, using sign language to prevent being spotted, before turning back to the door.

He reached out for the handle, eyes fixed on the worm-eaten wood, ready. But he didn’t even have time to touch it.

A metallic clatter rang out behind him, and when he turned, he saw that Lindsey had dropped his sword and was immobilized by a vampire who pinned his arms behind his back with an iron grip. The creature’s other hand was wrapped around Lindsey’s throat, bony fingers digging into the flesh. Despite his frail appearance, the vampire seemed to have uncommon strength, and Lindsey couldn’t make the slightest move.

He struggled, trying to break free, but couldn’t even loosen the hold. A flash of rage and helplessness crossed his eyes before giving up, his muscles locked under the force restraining him. He looked up at Angel, his features tense, and mouthed silently: Sorry.

— "Mmmh… Thanks for the snack, Angelus…" the vampire murmured enviously, his fangs already on Lindsey’s neck.

Chapter Text

— "Mmmh… Thanks for the snack, Angelus…" the vampire murmured enviously, his fangs already on Lindsey’s neck.

His voice was hoarse but imbued with detached amusement.

Angel felt his throat tighten and took a measured step forward.

— "He’s not a snack. Let him go," he said sharply.

The vampire burst into a cavernous laugh, a sinister echo that faded into the darkness of the crypt.

— "Are you sure?" he went on. "He smells so good… And his throat is so appealing… It resonates… The blood resonates…"

— "I’m sure. And if you don't want Angelus to kick your ass, I’d really advise you to let him go…" Angel threatened in an icy voice, stepping forward again.

The vampire hesitated, but the mention of Angelus’ name seemed to make him reconsider. Suddenly, he released Lindsey and turned away from them, staring at a carving in the stone wall nearby, his interest already elsewhere.

"Thanks," Lindsey signed as he rejoined Angel, one hand on his bruised throat.

— "You okay?" Angel immediately asked.

Lindsey confirmed with a nod and picked up his sword.

A little farther away, the vampire still seemed absorbed in his contemplation.

— "Everything always comes back to me anyway…" he murmured, swaying his head slowly.

Angel frowned.

— "How do you know me? This is the first time we’ve met."

— "Really? I'm not so sure… Everything mixes underground. Everything dies, then is reborn. Past, present, future. Past, present, future… Past, present, future…" the vampire continued his tirade, running his fingers along the stone walls, a strange smile on his lips.

— "It smokes…" he said with adoration, brushing his hand over a cross.

Angel shot Lindsey a glance. Neither of them knew what to make of this.

— "How do you know me?" Angel repeated louder, trying to pull their host out of this sort of trance.

The vampire turned and stared at them, and the atmosphere seemed to grow heavier. Lindsey felt another unpleasant chill run down his spine as the man approached.

Up close, his waxy complexion seemed almost translucent. His eyes, sunken deep into their sockets, gleamed with a disturbing intensity. He had dropped his fangs and regained his human face. Suddenly, he leaned in toward Lindsey. Too close. Way too close.

Lindsey instinctively tried to back away, but his back hit the rough stone wall, cutting off any escape. His hand tightened around the hilt of his sword as the vampire tilted his head slightly, his eyes lingering hungrily on his exposed throat.

— "Let’s start with dinner!" the vampire suddenly exclaimed cheerfully.

The shift from heavy tension to sudden joy was so brutal Lindsey froze for a split second. Angel, however, reacted immediately, instincts overriding strategy.

— "Nobody’s going to eat anyone!" he snapped, grabbing Lindsey’s arm and pulling him aside.

The vampire swiveled his head toward Angel and, without a word, went and sat down on one of the stones arranged in a circle.

Angel and Lindsey looked at each other indecisively for a moment, then moved forward cautiously.

Hidden behind the column was a sort of demonic larder. Both men winced as they looked at the shelves. Next to half-filled containers of blood and other viscous substances, were various body parts from all kinds of creatures… but none were human. Oddly enough, there was chocolate too.

— "I was told you were coming, so I’ve filled the pantry especially for you!" the vampire exclaimed cheerfully, springing to his feet. "Dig in! Dig in!" he continued, jumping up and down on the spot.

Angel and Lindsey exchanged another glance and eventually approached the shelf reluctantly.

Disgusted by the tattered body parts, Lindsey gagged but reached out with a shaky hand, inwardly thanking every god he knew for the chocolate bar. Brushing off the dust, he noticed that the date had expired at least five years ago. And seeing Angel’s face as he sniffed a jar, the blood probably dated from the same era.

— "I have no idea what animal or creature this even came from…" Angel whispered to Lindsey with a disgusted expression.

"Don’t drink that!" Lindsey signed back immediately.

— "Believe me, I didn’t intend to…" Angel assured, setting the jar back down.

— "It's very kind of you to prepare all this for us…" he added aloud, forcing a polite smile. "Tell me, who exactly told you we would come?"

— "God, obviously!" the vampire declared. "Or Angelus… I’m not sure anymore… But it’s all the same, isn’t it?"

— "Uh… yeah, of course…" Angel replied, beginning to seriously doubt whether they had made the right choice coming here: this vampire might be more insane than wise.

He motioned for Lindsey to follow him toward the stone circle, sitting as far as possible from the pantry and their strange host.

— "Since you were told we were coming, can you help us?"

— "You should have come sooner! Everything would have been so much easier then…" the vampire lamented, swaying his head. "They’re all dead now!" he suddenly cried out in despair.

Angel frowned.

— "Who’s dead? The demons?" he asked, pointing to the well-stocked pantry.

— "I wasn’t going to eat them alive…" their host replied with a shocked expression.

— "No, of course not…" Angel quickly said. "Can you help me?" he repeated, trying to steer the conversation back on track. "I want to become human again."

— "Any quest is useless without a song," the vampire declared confidently, shifting from one emotion to the next with startling aplomb.

Lindsey raised his eyebrows.

"He wants you to sing? Does he have a power like Lorne’s?" he signed to Angel. "Or is he talking about an incantation?"

Angel shrugged. He had no idea.

"Please, no more singing spells. Ever… I’m so done with that…" Lindsey added with a dramatic look, making his husband smile.

— "What exactly am I supposed to sing?" Angel inquired, turning back toward their host, hoping that the accuracy of his singing wouldn’t be taken into account.

The mad vampire stared at him as if not understanding the question, tilting his head from right to left.

— "I could sing… Barry Manilow? Or a country song?" Angel offered, knowing that besides Lindsey’s songs and a few old tunes, he barely knew any lyrics at all.

— "Barry Manilow??? Country???" the vampire yelped in horror, leaping to his feet. "No, no, no, that’s not right! That was before! Now... no, after…"

He backed away and began pacing frantically, mumbling incomprehensible words while shaking his head.

— "Uh… Sorry, but… What?" Angel tried again.

The vampire abruptly spun back toward him.

— "Rock! The rock is everything! I'm not crazy! It’s important. Essential. It’s the breath of the song. You won’t get anywhere without it. Because without it, all is silence. All is dead. Breathless. You should know that!"

Angel exchanged a baffled look with Lindsey, who seemed just as confused.

— "He… wants me to sing… a rock song?" asked Angel, puzzled and a bit worried about having to sing.

Lindsey shrugged. He knew a lot of rock songs but being mute, he couldn’t help his husband in any singing.

Angel turned toward their host, ready to ridicule himself but the man wasn’t attentive. He was spinning, or dancing. Alone, between the columns. Angel opened his mouth but hesitated.

Before he could make up his mind, the mad vampire stopped his strange dance and almost shouted at him.

— "It’s not the time! No! It’s not the time!"

Angel frowned then forced a smile.

— "Okay… Sure… You’re absolutely right…" he pretended, feeling done with all of this. "Well, thank you… We’ll come back later then… with a rock song…"

With a nod, he indicated to Lindsey that they should leave, and they quickly got to their feet.

— "The chocolate! Don’t forget the chocolate!" the vampire suddenly exclaimed, as if emerging from a trance.

He grabbed the bar Lindsey had left on a stone and stuffed it into his hand with a dazzling smile.

— "Chocolate is good, but blood is better, isn’t it?" he said to him cheerfully. "It flows down the throat, warm and thick… Mmmh… So good… Reviving... And healthy too…" He took on a dreamy look. "I’d love to taste blue one someday… It must be delicious… even better than red."

Lindsey tensed instinctively but thanked him with a nod, then quickly followed Angel toward the exit.

They hurried back across the crypt. Neither of them had any desire to prolong this strange — and not very fruitful — encounter.

As soon as they stepped outside into the fresh air, Lindsey took a deep breath, as if trying to purge the oppressive underground atmosphere.

— "Let’s not stick around," Angel said, steering him toward the car.

Once inside, Lindsey let out a sigh. He wasn’t unhappy to be out of that crypt.

"Do you think we did the right thing, just leaving like that? Maybe we should have… you know… killed him? Isn’t that what Angel Investigations usually does? He’s dangerous…" Lindsey signed hesitantly.

— "Judging by this ‘pantry’, he doesn’t seem to prey on humans," Angel replied thoughtfully. "Besides, I don’t understand why but he’s pretty respected in the underworld. If we kill him, we'd probably face retaliation… and I’d rather avoid that."

Lindsey nodded, then cast an incredulous look at his husband.

"That was definitely one of the strangest encounters of my life… And believe me, I’ve had my share of strange ones…" he signed.

Angel nodded in agreement, replaying the mad vampire’s words in his head.

— "Do you think… he actually said something true?"

In response, Lindsey simply opened the glove compartment of the car and pulled out a CD.

"It’s rock music, if you want to go back down there and offer it as a gift or sing him a little tune," he signed with a teasing smile.

— "Yeah, no thanks…" Angel grumbled. "I guess it would’ve been too easy if becoming human were that simple anyway…"

Lindsey nodded.

"It was just our first try. There’s no point in getting discouraged yet. Let’s go back to the house and plan the next step," he signed reassuringly.

"I’ve got chocolate, if you need comfort…" he added, waving the bar still in his hand.

— "I think I’ll pass…" Angel replied.

Lindsey smiled, tucked the chocolate back into the glove box, then pressed a kiss to Angel’s cheek, which Angel returned with a smile.

Lindsey was right. It was only the beginning of their journey.

Angel turned the key, and the engine roared to life.

"At worst, I’ll just take you to a rock concert," Lindsey signed as he popped the CD into the player.

---

The sea breeze blew gently, occasionally lifting a few grains of sand that brushed against Lindsey’s skin. Sitting cross-legged against a palm tree, he strummed his guitar strings with a light, almost instinctive touch. His gaze was lost on the horizon, where the ocean merged with the sky, bathed in gold and orange by the setting sun. His lips moved, following lyrics only he could hear. His voice no longer carried, but in his mind, it still existed. Eyes half-closed, his body vibrated to the rhythm of the music.

A little further away, sheltered by the terrace's shade, Angel watched him in silence. His sketchbook rested on his knees, and his pencil slid across the paper with methodical precision, capturing every detail: the curve of Lindsey’s shoulders, the light in his hair, his fingers caressing the guitar strings, the way his swim shorts pulled up over his hips. He had already sketched several portraits of him, but this one held particular significance. It was their last day here.

When the sun finally dipped below the horizon, dyeing the sky in a gradient of purple and midnight blue, Angel closed his sketchbook and stood up. He walked towards Lindsey, then dropped down beside him without a word, not wanting to disturb him. Lindsey smiled at him but continued playing and Angel listened in silence for a few moments. Slowly, the vampire recognized the chords of Drift Away and he began to sing along.

— "Give me the beat, boys, and free my soul, I wanna get lost in your rock’n’roll and drift away…"

His voice was far from right but he didn’t care. Lindsey looked up at him in surprise, and raised an eyebrow mockingly. Angel shrugged.

— "What? We could form a duo!"

Lindsey laughed silently, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes, and he replayed the chorus to make him continue. Angel complied, absolutely butchering the notes with feigned confidence, until Lindsey shook his head, shoulders trembling with amusement, and placed a hand on his arm to stop him.

Angel shot him a false offended look.

— "You’re stopping me? Really? I was so into it," he protested.

Lindsey set his guitar carefully into its case and, still smirking, offered a theatrical clap. Angel rolled his eyes and then handed him his sketchbook.

The teasing in Lindsey’s smile faded as he took the drawing with a curious look. His eyes swept over the precise strokes, taking in the portrait of himself, sitting here, lost in his music. With a flicker of emotion shining in his gaze, he looked back up at Angel, who watched him silently, captivated by his reactions. Lindsey smelled of sunscreen.

— "I want you," the vampire murmured.

Something feral flashed in Lindsey's eyes. He glanced around – the private beach stretched empty in both directions, the ocean their only witness. A thrill sparked between them. Lindsey smiled mischievously. He carefully stowed the sketchbook into the guitar case. Then, the next moment, Angel found himself lying flat on his back, a warm, familiar weight straddling him. Lindsey had moved with a confidence that left no room for doubt.

The weight and heat of him against Angel’s crotch were immediate and electric, and a smile stretched across the vampire’s lips.

— "I guess you’re taking the lead, then?"

Lindsey's answer was a cocky grin. He leaned down, his breath hot against Angel's cooled skin, and hovered just above Angel's lips, refusing to close the distance. Angel tried to lift his head for a kiss, but Lindsey pulled back, teasing, until Angel growled in frustration. Only then did Lindsey claim his mouth with hunger. Angel’s hand naturally found the back of his head, and he let his fingers play with the shoulder-length hair that fell around his face. The kiss was long and deep, as if neither of them wanted it to ever end.

Eager, Angel's hands moved to grip Lindsey's ass, pulling him tighter against his growing erection, the friction making both men shudder even through their shorts. Lindsey allowed it for a moment, grinding down deliberately, before catching Angel's wrists and pinning them firmly into the sand above his head.

The vampire could have easily broken Lindsey's hold, but the confident dominance from his husband sent a surge of heat straight to his groin. Angel relaxed his arms in surrender, his lips curving into a smile that was half challenge, half anticipation.

With one hand, Lindsey reached toward his guitar case lying in the sand. He rummaged briefly and pulled out a worn guitar string, thin, but strong. His grin widened when he turned his attention back to Angel, who raised an amused eyebrow.

— "You’re full of surprises tonight…" Angel murmured with an amused look as his lover twisted the string between his fingers.

Lindsey didn’t answer. Crossing Angel’s wrists together, he wrapped the string around them, then looped it behind the palm tree and secured it with a tight knot. The vampire tested the bonds with a gentle tug. Firm enough to hold him if he played along, but they both knew he could break free with minimal effort. That wasn't the point. The real restraint was in his willing surrender to Lindsey's lead – and that was far more powerful than any physical bonds could ever be.

Angel was smiling. A crooked smile that instantly made Lindsey want to kiss him. So he did. Tenderly at first, then with growing passion. Their tongues found each other and intertwined, and Lindsey lost himself in the sensations, becoming almost unaware where they were if the sound of the waves hadn’t reminded him.

Breathless, Lindsey finally broke the kiss with a playful nip on his lower lip, then straightened up. The moonlight silvered his skin, highlighting the muscles of his chest. He let his hand wander lightly around his lover’s torso, a grin on his lips, fully aware of his power as he was poised over Angel. Without missing a beat, he leaned in, his tongue flicking over cool skin, creating an electrifying contrast. He let the tension mount, the desire stretch until it became almost unbearable. As he caught a nipple between his teeth, Angel pulled involuntarily against his bonds, the guitar string digging slightly into his wrists.

Lindsey glanced up at the movement, a wicked gleam in his eyes. He continued his exploration, deliberately slowing when he reached sensitive areas, drawing out Angel's pleasure until it bordered on sweet torture. With a deft motion, he slid both their swim shorts off and, naked at last, he wedged himself against Angel, skin against skin, his erection brushing Angel’s. Without breaking eye contact, Lindsey began a slow, deliberate grind against him. Every movement, every undulation, fanned the desire between them even more. He wanted Angel to feel it, to crave him beyond reason.

Then, without stopping the slow motions of his hips, Lindsey reached again into the guitar case. Angel raised an eyebrow, curious, but before he could form any questions, Lindsey pulled out a small plastic bottle.

— "Seriously?" Angel asked, amused.

Lindsey shrugged, as if to say Bah what?

He coated his fingers with the makeshift lube, taking his time, clearly savoring Angel’s growing impatience. Angel wasn’t sure what it was — probably some kind of wood polish or oil — but he didn’t care. The faint woody scent added to the salt of the ocean, and the scent of sunscreen emanating from Lindsey’s tanned skin. A combination that could have made anyone lose their soul.

Lindsey pressed a slick finger against Angel’s entrance, steadying him with a hand on his hip. Slowly, he began exploring. Soon, a second finger joined, and Lindsey continued his caresses with obvious pleasure, delighting in every reaction he pulled from Angel.

The vampire let out a hoarse moan as he felt Lindsey’s fingers insinuate deeper inside him. The sensation – being stretched, filled under the gaze of his lover – everything, that was overwhelming in the best possible way. Lindsey knew him, knew his body, and every motion of his fingers brushed against that spot that made Angel see stars.

— "Lin..." Angel gasped, tugging at his bonds again. Not to escape, but because the pleasure was becoming too intense to remain still. "Please."

Lindsey withdrew his fingers slowly, deliberately, watching Angel's face as he did. He dipped his hand back into the bottle, drawing a little heart on Angel’s chest, making him chuckle hoarsely. Then, he coated his own sex with oil, stroking himself with deliberate, cocksure grace under Angel’s hungry gaze.

— "You’re so beautiful, my love," the vampire whispered. "So damn beautiful."

A faint flush spread across Lindsey’s cheeks and he bit his lip, admiring in turn his husband stretched out beneath him — vulnerable, hard, waiting. Overcome with impatience, he repositioned himself, guiding himself slowly into Angel, savoring every second as he entered him, inch by inch.

Angel tipped his head back, his bound wrists tugging lightly on the string as he welcomed Lindsey into him, his body opening up under the familiar, exquisite pressure.

— "Yes, Lindsey, yes…" he murmured, tightening his legs around Lindsey’s hips.

Lindsey paused for a moment, giving them both a minute to savor the feeling, the connection. Then, his fingers gliding across Angel’s chest, he began slow, measured thrusts, playing with the exquisite torture he was inflicting.

— "Faster," Angel pleaded, need filling his voice.

Lindsey complied, but on his own terms: gradually increasing the pace, establishing a rhythm that built pleasure in steady waves. And just when Angel thought he might shatter from the building pressure, Lindsey slowed down, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He wanted to drive his lover wild, to rip uncontrolled cries of pleasure from him.

Angel growled in frustration and Lindsey’s grin widened when he saw the vampire pulling against his bonds. But still holding back.

He let his fingers wander over Angel’s sides, clearly savoring his power to drive his lover to the edge of control. He wanted to prolong this moment, to stretch it to the inevitable explosion.

— "Lin…" the vampire groaned, a rough plea that sent shivers down Lindsey’s spine.

Lindsey's expression softened slightly, but the teasing gleam remained in his eyes. He let his hand drift lower, trailing over Angel's chest, circling a nipple before finally – finally – wrapping around Angel's neglected erection.

The vampire let out a moan, relieved, but Lindsey’s touch was light, too light. His fingers were barely stroking him. Desperate, Angel thrust his hips, seeking more friction, but Lindsey denied him, holding back with a teasing smirk.

"Tell me what you want," Lindsey signed slowly, deliberately releasing Angel to make the signs, emphasizing each movement with theatrical precision.

Angel groaned again, his pupils blown wide with lust. It was usually him who teased Lindsey like that.

— "I want you to make me come," Angel murmured, locking eyes with him.

"How? Be precise. What do you want?" Lindsey insisted, again slowing down his hips.

— "Everything. I want everything," the vampire managed in a faint voice. "I want your cock pulsing deep inside me, and your fingers everywhere. And I want you to kiss me."

Lindsey's expression shifted at the words which seemed to escape Angel’s throat despite himself. Momentarily, dominance gave way to tenderness before the heat returned to his eyes and he kissed him eagerly, then resumed his movements, this time with no teasing restraint. His hips snapped against Angel’s ass, harder, faster. And almost immediately, his fingers closed around the vampire’s erection, this time stroking him with the same cadence as his loins.

The dual stimulation was overwhelming for Angel. He was screaming now. Real, raw cries of pleasure, uncontrolled. The sound made Lindsey blush. Fuck, that’s hot… good thing the beach is private, he thought as he lost himself in the sensations too, moaning silently in response to his lover’s sounds.

— "Lindsey!" Angel gasped, a warning and a prayer.

Lindsey's response was to thrust deeper, harder, his hand tightening and quickening on Angel's length. One final, perfect thrust, and they rocked together. Angel’s back arched off the sand as ecstasy crashed through him in waves, his release spilling over Lindsey's still-moving hand. A hoarse cry tore from his throat, a sound of pure abandon that echoed briefly across the deserted beach and made Lindsey shudder and empty himself deep inside his lover.

For a moment, the world stood still. Just them, their trembling bodies still joined under the starry sky.

Slowly coming down from his orgasm, Lindsey let his fingers absentmindedly brush Angel’s hip lightly, savoring the coolness of the vampire’s skin. He stayed like that, inside him, just feeling the connection.

"You’re gorgeous," he signed, in admiration.

Angel smiled. And with a simple, sharp movement, he snapped the old guitar string, regaining the use of his hands which found their ways to Lindsey’s ass, as if unwilling to let him go just yet. A shiver ran through Lindsey and he leaned in to kiss him deeply.

After what seemed an eternity, Lindsey straightened up, breathless, and finally withdrew. Smiling, he lay on the sand and immediately pulled Angel into his arms. The vampire let himself be gathered close, burying his face in the crook of Lindsey’s neck, this place that felt like home.

Silence settled gently, broken only by Lindsey’s still ragged breathing and the soft murmur of the waves accompanying their embrace.

In that perfect quietude, Lindsey brought his lips close to Angel’s ear and blew softly. No sound, just a breath. But Angel understood instantly. A happy smile stretched across his lips as he trailed a hand down Lindsey’s back in response.

— "I love you too," he murmured, sealing this perfect moment beneath the stars.

Chapter Text

The sky was still dark when Angel slipped out of bed, leaving Lindsey to enjoy the last few minutes of sleep before their departure. Silently, he set about getting the car ready, carrying their things to the vehicle parked in front of the house. The waves were the only sound breaking the stillness, accompanying his methodical movements as he checked that they hadn’t forgotten anything.

When he came back inside, Lindsey was up, buttoning his shirt. Angel stopped in his tracks when he saw his husband’s choice of clothing: leather boots, jeans and a light shirt under a casual jacket. A hat sat on the table beside him.

Angel crossed his arms, eyeing him from head to toe with a faint smile.

— "You do know we’re not going to Texas, right?"

Lindsey shrugged with a relaxed air and a crooked smile, as if to say: you don’t need to be in Texas to dress like that. He’d been wearing beach shorts all week and certainly wasn’t ready to put on anything close to a suit right now. After all, they were officially on a world tour for their honeymoon and therefore, in relaxation mode!

Angel shook his head, amused, then added:

— "And you do know I’m not dancing with you either, right? I mean, I did line dance to Cotton Eye Joe at our wedding, and it felt like it lasted for hours. That was already way more than I ever imagined myself doing..."

Lindsey replied with a mischievous grin and, without warning, broke into a few country dance steps, pivoting on his heel and tapping the floor precisely with the tips of his boots, one hand on his belt, the other raised in the air like he was throwing a lasso.

Angel rolled his eyes, but a smile tugged at his lips despite himself. Lindsey was cute.

— "You’re incorrigible," the vampire said, pulling him into a hug. "And adorable. But it’s not gonna work twice."

"I’ve got the whole trip to get you to crack for another dance…" Lindsey replied with a playful look and kissed him.

Angel smiled against his lips. He knew he’d crack. But he wasn’t about to give him that satisfaction just yet.

— "Ready?" he asked instead.

Lindsey nodded. He’d been ready for weeks.

— "Then let’s go, cowboy," Angel declared, placing the hat on his husband’s head.

Lindsey smiled, and Angel couldn’t help but pull him close again to kiss his neck.

— "You look hot," he murmured against his ear. "And you should wear those jeans more often. I love you."

Lindsey blushed and returned his ‘I love you’ with a tender caress.

Then Angel gave everything one last check while Lindsey settled into the passenger seat. A few moments later, the car’s engine purred softly to life. And just before the sun broke over the horizon, they hit the road, leaving behind the temporary shelter of that beach and heading deeper into the unknown. Heading East.

---

The miles stretched out before them like an endless road, a long ribbon of asphalt winding straight into the East. There was something exhilarating about the drive—the idea of travel, of change, of the unknown that lay ahead.

Angel, at the wheel, was driving fast. Since they’d left Carmel-by-the-Sea, they’d been eating up the miles. Lindsey, on the passenger side, had put his boots up on the dashboard, his hat falling slightly over his eyes, and was scribbling a few notes in his notebook. Maybe lyrics for a new song for Ali, the band’s new singer. From time to time, he glanced up at the road, idly checking the signs. In the background, a country-rock playlist played, the one he’d prepared weeks ago.

At midday, Angel parked the car at a gas station. The special-tinted windows offered full protection from daylight, keeping the interior as safe as nighttime for the vampire, but he obviously couldn’t leave the vehicle. So it was Lindsey who stepped out and fueled up, taking the opportunity to stretch his legs. It was hot outside, the air thick with the smell of gasoline and burning asphalt. He walked into the small convenience store in search of a quick bite and came back with a bag: coffee, a sandwich, a few snacks. No blood for Angel, they’d have to wait until they reached a town to find a butcher shop. It wasn’t a real issue, but it did underline a reality they couldn’t ignore: traveling with a vampire came with some very specific constraints, even with a special car.

After eating, Lindsey took the wheel this time, and Angel shifted to the passenger seat. The day dragged on. Lindsey drove more calmly, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the armrest, occasionally casting glances at Angel beside him. The vampire leaned against the door, sunglasses on, as if on a casual holiday.

A few hours later, they stopped in a small town, and Lindsey used the break to find a butcher shop and stretch his stiff muscles once more. Then they switched places again.

As the sun began to decline, Lindsey straightened in the passenger seat. His shoulders were tight with fatigue and his eyes tired. He ran a hand over his neck to try to ease the tension and gestured toward a sign along the road.

— "Want to stop at that motel for the night?" Angel asked.

Lindsey nodded in agreement. He needed a little rest; he wasn’t a vampire, after all. Even if it was only for a few hours, his body was craving a real bed.

A few minutes later, they pulled up in front of a small, anonymous motel on the side of the road. A flickering neon sign, an empty front desk. Angel took care of getting the key while Lindsey unloaded what they needed for the night.

When they finally entered the room, Lindsey dropped the bag by the door and flopped onto the bed with a sigh.

— "Tired?" Angel asked.

"It’s official, I hate long road trips..." Lindsey signed.

Angel smiled and slid in beside him, spooning him and pressing a kiss to his neck.

— "I’ll be the one to start driving tomorrow."

Lindsey simply nodded and closed his eyes. Angel let his hand glide over his back, feeling the tension beneath his fingers.

— "Maybe I can help with that... " he offered.

Lindsey cracked an eye open and gave a grateful smile before pulling his shirt over his head and rolling onto his stomach, exposing his bare back.

Angel smiled and straightened up, resting his hands on the warm, familiar skin. His thumbs began to work slowly up along Lindsey’s spine, pressing on every knot of tension. He could feel Lindsey sigh under his touch, his muscles gradually relaxing.

— "You really needed this," Angel murmured, continuing the motion, alternating between firm pressure and lighter caresses.

Lindsey melted into the mattress, his breathing slowing and deepening. After a while, he turned his head slightly, exposing the nape of his neck. A clear invitation.

Angel paused, eyes fixed on the offered skin. He felt his own body react to the idea of the taste of Lindsey’s blood, to the pleasure it provoked in him every time. But instead of his fangs, he pressed his lips to the soft skin, making Lindsey shiver.

— "Not tonight," he whispered.

Lindsey frowned slightly.

— "Because you’re already tired," Angel answered the silent question. "And we’re on the road. I’d rather not weaken you, especially when we don’t know what we’ll run into once we get to the cemetery. The pig’s blood from earlier did the trick just fine."

Lindsey lowered his head, thoughtful, but didn’t protest. He knew Angel was right, even if part of him had wanted to feel his husband against him this way.

Angel resumed the massage, returning to the tight muscles of Lindsey’s shoulders.

— "Sleep, my love," he murmured softly. "We’ve still got a long way ahead of us tomorrow."

Lindsey answered with a quiet sigh, but his body relaxed to Angel’s touch, and a few minutes later, his breathing evened out in the silence of the motel.

Angel pulled a light blanket over him, then lay down at his side, slipping an arm around his waist, savoring the warmth of his skin.

They were still far from their destination. But for now, they both needed rest.

---

A few hours later, Lindsey and Angel left the motel. It was early, very early. But leaving before dawn was easier for Angel and helped them stay on schedule.

As promised, Angel took the wheel right away, allowing Lindsey to sleep a little longer in the car. It had been a short night.

The hours dragged on, endless, marked only by the music and the monotonous stretch of the landscape. Angel drove in silence, hands steady on the wheel. Beside him, Lindsey was lost in thought. Not by choice, but because in this setup, there was no way for him to make himself understood. Angel could hardly turn his head to see him sign without risking an accident, let alone read what he might have written in his notebook. Even when they switched and Lindsey was driving, the situation wasn’t much better. He could still hear Angel talking to him and answer with a glance or a nod, but it wasn’t enough.

The first day of the trip had felt like a lull, each of them just enjoying the scenery, their own thoughts, their own distractions. But now, the lack of communication was starting to weigh on them. It was frustrating.

The only real distraction was the music. Lindsey’s playlist had been running for a while, but he’d chosen enough tracks to keep it from getting repetitive. It was almost noon when the first notes of a familiar song played. A guitar. A voice.

Lindsey’s voice.

Instinctively, a slow smile spread across Angel’s lips, and his hands tightened slightly on the wheel. He recognized that song. More importantly, he recognized that timbre, a bit raspy, vibrant with emotion. It was strange to hear Lindsey singing now that he no longer could.

In the passenger seat, Lindsey had lifted his head, his throat a little tight. He hadn’t included many of his own songs in the playlist, but it had been like this every time one came on since the start of their trip. A mixture of pain, nostalgia, and warmth. He stared at the small USB drive for a moment, then turned toward the window.

Angel glanced at him. Lindsey kept his gaze fixed on the horizon, but Angel wasn’t fooled by the calm expression. He could see his eyes a little brighter than usual, the way his fingers idly brushed his notebook on his lap, as if hesitating to write down lyrics he’d never be able to sing again.

Angel said nothing, just reached out and rested his hand gently on Lindsey’s thigh, giving it a tender squeeze. Lindsey looked at him, his eyes shining, and let his fingers close around his husband’s. A few moments later, Angel pulled the car over to the side of the road. Just a quick stop, just long enough to kiss Lindsey, to reassure him. To allow him to exchange a few words in sign language.

— "Are you okay, sweetheart?" Angel asked, resting his hand softly against Lindsey’s cheek.

Lindsey nodded.

"I’m just feeling … nostalgic…" he signed.

— "We can put on some other songs. Or just switch to the radio if you prefer," Angel offered gently.

But Lindsey shook his head. He liked his songs. And that wasn’t really his biggest problem right now.

"It’s hard," he signed. "Not being able to sign in the car. It’s… long. It reminds me of the beginning, when we were still learning sign language and couldn’t really communicate. It’s… frustrating."

— "I know… We’re almost there, my love," Angel murmured. "And all you need to do is make a simple gesture if you want us to stop. Even if it’s just to chat for a few minutes."

Lindsey nodded, a small smile on his face. Despite his heart squeezing from time to time, he’d learned to stay positive. Life was hard sometimes, but he regretted nothing. He made a heart with his fingers, and Angel kissed him again. It was a soft but deep kiss, the kind of kiss you never want to end.

When they hit the road again a few minutes later, Lindsey seemed more serene. Angel’s hand had returned to his thigh, and they drove on.

---

Hours later, they finally passed the sign: Stull – 5 miles.

Angel slowed slightly. The air felt heavier, thicker. Maybe it was fatigue, or just the impression of approaching a place about which too many legends spoke.

Beside him, Lindsey had straightened up, observing the surroundings. There was nothing remarkable at first glance. Only a handful of buildings remained: a gas station, a few scattered houses, a church, a fire station. If there were any residents, they remained hidden, as if night itself kept them indoors.

They stopped in front of a small motel on the road to the next town. The afternoon was almost over. By the time Lindsey had booked a room and brought in their bags, the sun would be low enough for Angel to safely leave the car.

They had arrived.

Chapter Text

The next evening, Angel parked the car by the side of the road, a few meters from the rusted gates that encircled Stull cemetery. Lost between a few wind-twisted trees, it had drawn the curious for decades. The Devil himself was said to appear there twice a year: on Halloween and during the spring equinox. Some even whispered that the old church hid a staircase descending straight to Hell… It was that last part that particularly interested Angel and Lindsey.

Indeed, their research on vampirism had led them to examine the process of siring more closely. While the practical side was well known, the psychological aspect remained a mystery.

In any case, most of the information they had gathered pointed to one common claim: when a human bitten by a vampire and fed with vampire blood dies, he descends to Hell because of the vampire blood in his body. What happens there, no one truly knows. Vampires usually don’t remember anything when they wake up a few hours later. But it seemed confirmed that the transformation happened in the afterlife, more specifically in Hell. So, if that gate under the church truly existed, that’s where answers might be found and, with luck, a way to reverse the process.

From the car, Angel and Lindsey could make out the leaning tombstones, weathered by time, and farther off, the ruins of the old church. Perhaps the stories had exaggerated the reality, but one look at the surroundings was enough to understand that Stull exuded a very particular atmosphere.

Despite the official ban on entering at night, the site remained a hotspot for thrill-seekers. A few teenagers loitered nearby, half-laughing to mask their unease, while a couple took photos behind the twisted bars. Angel and Lindsey waited in the car, reviewing what they knew: the staircase was supposedly beneath the church, but it would probably be hidden (rumors mentioned a portal that opens with blood); it led to Hell, which was surely crawling with unsavory creatures; and according to legend, it would take two weeks to climb the stairs on the way back…

When the couple had finished taking pictures and the teens had turned the corner, Angel and Lindsey stepped out of the car, surveying the surroundings cautiously.

— "Let’s go to Hell," said the vampire with a grin, checking that Lindsey had his pocketknife and the backpack with flashbangs, flares, and food in case the legend about how long the return would take was true.

The cemetery was closed off by a high, worn gate, secured with a padlocked chain that officially prevented it from being opened. Unofficially, all they had to do was climb over.

Without any visible effort, Angel leapt and landed on the other side. Lindsey, meanwhile, eyed the 8-foot barrier with a skeptical pout before grabbing the bars and starting to climb. The moon provided just enough light to do it safely. The metal was cold under his fingers, and despite his determination, he already knew he wouldn't make it look as effortless as his husband.

— "Need a hand?" Angel chuckled, a hint of amusement in his voice, as Lindsey had reached the top but was eyeing the drop down dubiously.

Lindsey rolled his eyes but made no formal protest. With a slightly hesitant move, he let himself fall, and Angel caught him with ease. Lindsey found himself back on the ground in a second. They were now inside.

Behind them, the gate seemed to cut them off from the outside world. The wind blew softly through the trees, as if carrying whispers of forgotten stories. In front of them, Stull Cemetery stretched out, silent under the moonlight.

Angel and Lindsey moved carefully between the uneven graves, some half-buried in the ground, others broken and abandoned. The air felt heavier here, charged with an invisible weight. Their footsteps made almost no sound on the carpet of dead leaves. A few meters ahead, the ruined church stood silhouetted in black shadows against the night sky.

Lindsey shot a skeptical glance at the remains of the structure, then turned his head toward Angel.

"Why is it always underground?" he signed, a hint of exasperation in his expression.

Angel gave a small laugh, remembering their last escapade.

— "As long as I don’t have to sing or dance, it’s all right…" he replied with a smile, trying to lighten the mood in the heavy atmosphere.

In front of them, the shattered entrance of the church loomed, dark and menacing. They stepped inside. The interior was just a mass of shadows and ruins. The scent of damp stone and old ash wafted through the air, mingled with something only Angel could smell. Blood.

The floor creaked under their feet as they moved past broken pews and fallen pillars, their shadows stretching in long, flickering shapes. At the far end of the ruined nave, a passage led to the lower level.

Angel entered first, his eyes alert to every detail. Lindsey followed close behind, his knife in hand.

The steps spiraled downward, sinking into darkness. They reached a little chamber, similar to the crypt under the San Carlos Borromeo mission. But way smaller and with no mad vampire this time. They were alone.

Angel lit a torch on the wall and they began inspecting the area. And suddenly, they saw it. A wall stood before them, marked with a wide arcade carved into the stone. A dark red color permeated the stone, forming irregular streaks, as if the wall had slowly absorbed fluids over the years. Angel squinted.

— "It’s blood…" he murmured.

Even without a vampire’s sense of smell, Lindsey had guessed as much. He remembered what the legend said: blood to open the door. And others before them had obviously tried.

Without hesitation, he drew his knife, slashed his palm, and pressed the wound against the stone.

Angel reacted instantly.

— "What the hell are you doing?!" he exclaimed, grabbing Lindsey’s wrist and pulling him away from the bloodied wall.

Lindsey raised an eyebrow and gestured toward the arcade.

We have to try to open it, don’t we? his look seemed to say.

— "If it were that easy, anyone would’ve found the entrance by now…"

And indeed, nothing happened. Lindsey took a step back, watching his blood soaking pointlessly into the stone. They both stood pensive for a few minutes. Then, Lindsey slowly held out his knife to his husband.

Angel frowned.

— "You think it needs vampire blood?"

Lindsey shrugged.

"Why not? According to our information, it’s because of the vampire blood in their bodies that bitten humans end up in Hell, right?"

Angel couldn’t deny the logic. And it couldn’t hurt to try. He took the knife and quickly sliced his palm. Blood beaded, and he mimicked Lindsey’s earlier gesture, pressing his hand on the stone.

The effect was immediate.

The contours of the arch lit up with an unearthly glow, revealing runes etched into the stone. They pulsed for a second, then the entire wall seemed to melt away before their eyes.

All that remained was the archway, and now visible beyond it, a staircase plunging into impenetrable darkness. It seemed endless.

Angel and Lindsey exchanged a look, then stared at the gaping opening. The air drifting up was colder, denser. Lindsey shivered and pulled his jacket tighter around his neck.

Then, taking back his knife from Angel’s hand, he took a step through the arch and moved toward the stairs.

— "Wait!" Angel stopped him, grabbing his wrist again.

Lindsey turned toward him, puzzled.

— "We don’t know what’s down there… I… it could be dangerous…" Angel hesitated.

Lindsey sighed and returned the knife to his belt, preparing to sign a long response.

"We’ve already talked about this, haven’t we? We’re in this quest together. Despite the danger and the risks. I don’t stay back," he signed, determined.

Angel looked at him. In his eyes, there was still some worry, but also pride. He nodded, and without another word, took Lindsey’s hand and, stepping ahead, led him toward the stairwell.

The steps were worn, uneven beneath their feet. The farther they descended, the more oppressive the air became. Only the sound of their footsteps echoed in the stairwell carved directly out of the rough stone. Lindsey had stopped counting the steps a long time ago.

Two weeks, he thought, remembering the legend.

Finally, the air shifted. So did the scenery.

They had both been in hellish dimensions before, but those were all so different that they had no real idea of what to expect... A place filled with demons who would threaten or enslave them? A picturesque suburb in a parallel world like Wolfram & Hart’s version of Hell?

In the end, reality was much more down-to-earth. The world they stepped into was barren, desolate, and stony. Without really knowing why, they both sensed they were in the right place: the afterlife, Hell. Now that they had it in front of them, it was as if they had always pictured it this way.

They advanced slowly, beginning to explore the strange landscape. They found themselves in a sort of tunnel network. The weight of the stone surrounding them was palpable. Some tunnels were narrow, but most were wide, even opening into rooms carved out of the rock, with just a few scrawny trees and twisted branches. Strangely, it wasn’t completely dark. Dim, yes. But not pitch black. They could even do without the torch.

At first, they saw no one. Heard no one. Then, as they rounded a bend in the road, they spotted silhouettes. People. Dead. Corpses.

Some sat still, others wandered aimlessly. These ‘inhabitants’ of Hell watched them pass by. Well, they mostly watched Lindsey. Angel felt his muscles tense as a protective instinct enveloped him. But the dead didn’t seem hostile. They looked surprised, curious, probably because they weren’t used to seeing someone alive in this place… Some even appeared a little afraid.

Angel tried several times to talk to them, asking questions: did they have any information about vampirism? About the process of siring and how to reverse it? About how to become human again?

But none of them answered. With each new attempt, the dead withdrew further. Some almost ran away.

Angel and Lindsey continued on their way. Eventually, they emerged into a room so vast it could have housed an entire stadium. The dead were more numerous here. Hundreds, maybe... They wandered, going about their business.

But as soon as Lindsey entered the room, all eyes turned to him again. Conversations died down and silence fell. Then a murmur spread.

— "He’s alive…"

— "Yes, I can hear his breathing!"

— "He’s going to attract them…"

Angel, on the lookout, exchanged a glance with Lindsey, who instinctively tightened his grip on his knife. Attract who? Or what?

Once again, Angel tried an approach. But in vain. As soon as he took a step forward, the dead backed away.

Suddenly, he felt a hand close around his arm. Lindsey.

— "You okay?" Angel asked immediately.

Lindsey nodded. With a gesture, he pointed toward the center of the room. The vampire followed his gaze.

Over there, a little farther away, an upright stone stood. No one approached it, as if even the dead dared not venture too close.

In unison, Angel and Lindsey moved toward it. Once again, the dead moved out of their way. Yet, their murmurs grew louder. Angel could feel their gazes weighing on them, between fascination and fear.

At last, they reached the stele. Strange symbols were engraved on it in a circular pattern, like an ancient script.

"Can you read it?" Lindsey asked.

Angel shook his head.

— "You can’t either, I guess?"

"Sorry, I missed the last seminar Wolfram & Hart offered about ancient demonic languages…" Lindsey quipped.

Angel smiled as a brief image flashed through his mind. Lindsey, a young evil lawyer, surrounded by Lilah and his colleagues, attending some bizarre seminar in a Wolfram & Hart conference room…

He shook his head and brought himself back to the present.

— "You’ve got your notebook?" he asked.

Lindsey had already thought of the same thing and was rummaging through his bag. He pulled out his small notebook, and a few minutes later, he was finishing copying the symbols.

"Now what?" he signed. "What do we do?"

— "Maybe we could try going a bit further, don’t you think? I mean, we’ve only been here for about ten minutes… And we didn’t come all this way down those stairs just for that…"

Lindsey nodded and put the notebook back in his bag.

Around them, the murmurs had grown louder. Lindsey and Angel were about to head toward the opposite end of the room when suddenly, one of the dead approached them. His step was hesitant, but he seemed to want to talk to them. After exchanging a glance with Lindsey, Angel stepped forward.

Up close, he saw the dead figure was a woman. But he didn’t even have time to ask a question about vampirism before she pointed at Lindsey.

— "The living have no place here!" she exclaimed. "Go away, go away!"

Immediately, the dead around them followed her.

— "Go away, go away!"

They were shouting now, raising skeletal fists, repeating the demand for the intruder to leave.
Then suddenly, they all fell silent. And as one, they turned to face the walls of the room.

— "They’re coming…"

— "They are here…"

— "It’s him they want…"

Angel moved closer to Lindsey.

— "Go away," the dead woman repeated. "They’re coming."

— "Who’s coming?" Angel asked.

— "The Morspiris."

Silence fell abruptly. Around them, the dead seemed frozen, as if petrified. Angel and Lindsey exchanged a perplexed look. Neither of them had ever heard of these Morspiris.

But suddenly, a crack echoed, sharp and sinister, and strangely loud enough to drown out the last murmurs of the dead. From the rock itself, creatures detached themselves. Humanoid in shape, but emaciated. Their gray, parchment-like skin was stretched over gnarled bones. They had no eyes. Just gaping holes.

— "I’m guessing those are the Morspiris," Angel remarked, taking a step back. "We need to get back up. They want you. You can’t stay here!"

Lindsey nodded. This was no time to play the hero. Already, one of the creatures was approaching them. It moved oddly, its limbs bending at strange angles with every step. It was slow, but it went straight to the point. Straight to Lindsey.

Instinctively, Angel and Lindsey backed away. Surprisingly, the dead did the same. Some even slipped away into nearby tunnels.

— "What are they afraid of? They’re dead…" said Angel, puzzled.

The creatures didn’t look invincible either, frail and gaunt as they were. Lindsey frowned. If even the dead were afraid of these Morspiris, it was best to avoid them... Suddenly, Angel snapped his fingers, catching Lindsey’s attention.

"They don’t have eyes," he pointed out, using sign language. "So they have to locate us by sound. If we stay quiet, we should be able to avoid them. But pull out your sword anyway, just in case."

Lindsey nodded, and with a gesture, his knife transformed into a sharp sword. He threw Angel a small smile, as if to say Don’t worry, I can defend myself.

— "Your sword won’t help you, living."

Angel and Lindsey spun around. It was an old man who had spoken this time. His body looked barely held together by filthy rags, and his face… Half of it was missing. The skin stopped abruptly, and maggots crawled through his long white hair. With a slow gesture, he raised a hand and hooked a blackened nail under a wobbly tooth, popping it out. It fell to the ground with a dry clack.

Lindsey retched.

God, I just want to go back to that beautiful beach… he thought, disgusted.

— "What do you mean ‘the sword won’t help’? How do we get rid of them?" Angel asked, his gaze shifting between the sinister figure and the advancing Morspiris.

The old man shrugged with a muffled laugh, a sound halfway between a dying man’s rattle and a mocking croak.

— "You don’t get rid of them," he whispered. "They are innumerable and invincible. Guardians created to prevent anyone from disturbing the afterlife. They’ll chase him for as long as he breathes. That’s how they spot their prey…"

His smile widened, revealing an irregular row of yellowed teeth.

— "And when they catch him… they’ll steal his breath. That’s what they’re called. Breath Thieves…"

A shiver ran down Lindsey’s spine. He looked at Angel. One of the Morspiris was nearly upon them. It was becoming urgent to get out of here, or they’d soon be surrounded.

— "This way!" Angel pointed to a tunnel not far from them.

It wasn’t the one they’d taken to arrive, but that didn’t matter. The only goal now was to put as much distance as possible between them and those invincible creatures. They started running. But they’d barely covered a few yards when all the Morspiris turned, chasing them. Or rather, chasing Lindsey.

The idea hit Angel suddenly.

He stopped and turned to Lindsey.

— "How long can you hold your breath?" he asked.

Lindsey hesitated. He had no idea. A minute, maybe two. He held up one finger.

— "Okay. That’s enough to get past them, I think. Hold your breath, and we run."

Lindsey nodded. He put away his apparently useless sword and focused. He took a deep breath and then, with a hand, blocked his mouth and nose.

They resumed running. It was working! The Morspiris seemed confused. They had stopped, and hesitated, as if suddenly blind. They groped their way forward, disoriented.

With a leap, Angel and Lindsey reached the nearest tunnel. Now it was a race against time to escape. But most paths were completely obstructed. Unable to detect the intruder, the Morspiris seemed to have decided to block the exits, forcing them to take circuitous routes.

Barely thirty seconds after they had left the great hall, Angel sensed Lindsey starting to struggle. Holding his breath while running was something else entirely… He wouldn’t last much longer. Seeing he was on the verge of breaking while they were still a long way from the stairs, Angel made a split-second decision. Grabbing his husband’s hand, he jostled one of the Morspiris blocking a tunnel, and pulled Lindsey after him. Caught off guard and unable to hold his breath any longer, Lindsey dropped his hand and instinctively inhaled deeply.

Immediately, a shudder ran through the air, as if the cavern itself had awakened. All the Morspiris froze. Then, all at once, they turned their heads toward Lindsey, synchronized. And charged.

— "Shit!" Angel cursed, grabbing Lindsey’s arm and pulling him into a frantic sprint.

Lindsey was holding his breath again. But he knew he wouldn’t last any longer than the previous time, and that wouldn’t be enough.

After Lindsey had been spotted a second time, a desperate idea occurred to Angel. He stopped Lindsey, who was still trying to hold his breath as best he could, and guided him into a secluded corner of a tunnel.

— "Do you trust me?" he asked.

Lindsey nodded. Yes, without hesitation.

— "Would you put your life in my hands?"

Lindsey nodded again. Without hesitation.

— "Then take a deep breath…"

Understanding what Angel had in mind, Lindsey closed his eyes. Then he let his hand drop, and took a deep breath. The next instant, he felt Angel’s cold hand covering his nose and mouth, cutting off his air.

Chapter Text

As soon as Angel blocked Lindsey’s breathing, the Morspiris, who had detected him again the moment he had breathed, slowed down, losing his trail. This time, Lindsey and Angel moved more cautiously. Running wasn’t the best solution when you had to hold your breath. The objective was clear: to reach the staircase, weaving between the demons.

After a minute of walking toward the exit, Lindsey’s hand came to rest on Angel’s. He was struggling. But Angel didn’t let go. There were too many demons around them, it would have been suicide.

— "Hang on, we’re close. Trust me," the vampire whispered.

Lindsey closed his eyes. He continued, letting himself be led. His life was literally in Angel’s hand.

But the seconds dragged on. Lindsey had tears in his eyes now, his throat was burning. His hand tightened around Angel’s, and he stopped.

— "We have to keep going, sweetheart, we can’t stop now..." Angel whispered as he searched for the shortest path to avoid the demons. "Don’t worry, it’s going to be fine. I’ve got you."

No, it wasn’t going to be fine. Lindsey shook his head. His hands gripped Angel’s and tugged, trying to break free. He thrashed in a purely human reflex, panic rising. Tears now streamed down his cheeks, and his throat felt like fire. Angel frowned but didn’t loosen his grip, determined.

— "Don’t panic, Lin, don’t panic... Don’t forget I can hear your heart. I won’t let you die," the vampire tried to reassure him as he continued moving forward.

By now, Angel was practically dragging Lindsey, who was struggling harder despite the soothing words, his instincts screaming at him to fight for his own survival. But the vampire’s grip was unyielding, immovable. It was useless. Bit by bit, Lindsey’s strength gave out. His vision blurred, dark spots danced before his eyes. Moments later, he let his hand fall limply; he no longer had the strength to resist. His head was spinning and he could no longer concentrate, his thoughts growing muddled. He was suffocating.

Sensing Lindsey on the brink of losing consciousness, Angel lifted him as best he could, still keeping his hand over his mouth and nose.

There, he recognized a rock: the one they’d seen just after descending the stairs! Hiding behind the stone, Angel propped Lindsey up while scanning their surroundings to check the distance between them and the Morspiris.

— "They’re far. You take one deep breath and then we run for the stairs," Angel murmured.

He removed his hand, and Lindsey immediately inhaled, more out of instinct than in response to Angel’s words. With a single gesture, the demons all turned their heads, spotting him instantly. Chaos ensued. In unison, they rushed forward, charging toward the rock. Faster this time.

Angel didn’t give Lindsey time for a second breath, though he clearly needed one. He slammed his hand back over Lindsey’s mouth and nose and dragged him into the stairwell, taking the steps four at a time. At the first landing, he glanced back. The Morspiris seemed to stay below. But he knew that if they heard Lindsey breathe again, they would come running. They had to keep going.

— "Hold on, my love. We’re almost there," Angel tried to reassure Lindsey.

Legend said it took weeks to climb back up the stairs. Weeks. Lindsey couldn’t hold on, not even with intermittent breaths. Angel began to pray to every god he knew that it was just an old tale.

---

Angel was taking the stairs four at a time, Lindsey clutched tightly against him. He held him as firmly as he could, his hand still pressed over his nose and mouth. Every muscle in his body was taut, focused solely on one objective: getting out of this hell.

His vampire hearing allowed him to sense Lindsey’s heart beating faintly in his chest. Too faintly. Angel knew enough about human physiology to understand he had only a few moments before Lindsey slipped into unconsciousness.

He hesitated for a fraction of a second. He had hoped to wait for one more landing, but he couldn’t take the risk. He moved his hand away.

Lindsey inhaled violently, a jerky hiccup tearing his burning throat. Air rushed into his lungs like searing fire, painful and vital at the same time.

Below them, hurried footsteps echoed in the stairwell.

Angel cursed and clamped his hand back over Lindsey’s face. He tightened his grip around his waist and resumed his desperate climb. His feet struck the steps mechanically, driven by adrenaline. The staircase was never-ending. Several times, Angel had to pause to allow Lindsey to breathe and to check his condition.

Lindsey was trembling slightly against him, but he no longer resisted. His body, exhausted, wavered between semi-lucidity and unconsciousness. Angel didn’t know how long he could hold out like this. Behind them, the Morspiris seemed to be gaining ground.

A landing in sight. The last one. Finally.

Angel reached the top of the stairs and burst onto the uppermost landing. Lindsey was nearly limp in his arms, his cheeks bathed with silent tears.

The portal. Closed.

Angel clenched his jaw and, without wasting a second, pressed his wound against the cold stone, hoping his blood would work that way too. His stomach twisted with anxiety at the thought of failure, a cold tension spreading through his veins. Then, he felt it: the faintest vibration of unlocking magic.

As soon as the opening was wide enough, he slipped through it, holding Lindsey even tighter. Behind them, a crash rang out as the Morspiris slammed into an invisible barrier, unable to cross the threshold. Angel didn’t even look back. They had made it: the Morspiris apparently couldn’t enter the world of the living.

Immediately, Angel let go of Lindsey, who instantly gulped in air like a drowning man reaching the surface. Instinctively, his hand flew to his aching throat, struggling to regain a normal breathing rhythm, an uncontrollable cough mixing with a feeling of nausea and silent sobs.

— "Breathe… Breathe slowly… It’s over… I’m here. You’re safe now…" murmured Angel, trying to reassure him.

But Lindsey still seemed to be in a panic, struggling to catch his breath. Tears continued to run down his cheeks.

Without wasting time, Angel scooped him up again and hurried out of the crypt, carrying him into the open air. He gently laid him on the dewy grass and knelt beside him. In a sharp movement, he leaned over and opened Lindsey’s shirt, nearly tearing it to expose his neck and chest.

— "Shh… It’s going to be okay… Easy, breathe easy," Angel whispered, his hand instinctively finding Lindsey’s damp cheek.

Lindsey swallowed hard, trying to obey despite the lingering panic. His fingers unconsciously clung to Angel’s clothes, as if searching for an anchor.

— "I’m here, sweetheart. I’ve got you," Angel continued, pulling him into a gentle embrace, one hand running through his hair. "Look at me, Lindsey. Just look at me."

Lindsey slowly raised his eyes to him, his gaze unfocused and still disoriented from the oxygen deprivation. Angel held his attention, his hand resting flat on his chest to follow the rhythm of his heart.

Little by little, Lindsey’s breathing steadied, and his body stopped shaking.

— "Are you okay?" Angel asked.

Lindsey gave a faint nod, slowly regaining control of his body and emotions.

Relieved, Angel closed his eyes for a moment. Then he rested his forehead against Lindsey’s and pressed a kiss to his sweaty skin.

— "Thank God…" he murmured, to Lindsey as much as to himself. "You’re alive..."

He felt Lindsey snuggle against him, his breathing still a bit ragged. Angel gave him a moment to regain some composure, then, seeing that his husband had more or less pulled himself together, he lifted him up, one arm under his legs and the other under his back. They couldn't linger: even though they had been down there less than an hour, dawn was strangely in sight, as if time had passed differently.

Angel crossed the cemetery without stopping and reached the gate. He didn’t bother stepping over it. With a single kick, he shattered it into pieces.

Once at the car, he carefully settled Lindsey into the passenger seat. Reaching into the door compartment, he grabbed a bottle of water and handed it to him.

— "Slowly…" he warned.

Lindsey grasped the bottle with a trembling hand and tried to swallow a first sip. But he immediately spat it out, spilling half the bottle in the car. His hand instinctively went to his burning throat.

— "I said slowly…" Angel repeated, this time taking the bottle himself and bringing it to Lindsey’s lips.

After several attempts, Lindsey finally managed to swallow a bit of water. He eventually nodded at Angel in a reassuring gesture. ‘I’m okay’, he seemed to say.

— "I’m taking you to the hospital," Angel declared in a deadpan tone.

Lindsey tried to protest with a faint shake of his head, but Angel didn’t give him a choice.

— "You went too long without breathing, sweetheart… You need a check-up," Angel insisted, placing a hand on Lindsey’s heart as if to underline its fragility.

Lindsey hesitated a moment longer, then gave in and let himself fall against the cold leather of the seat.

Angel shut the door, slid behind the wheel, and drove off immediately.

---

The awakening was slow, foggy. A dull ache pulsed in Lindsey’s skull. He opened his eyes with difficulty, greeted by a too-bright light that drew a muffled groan from him. The air was dry, permeated with that aseptic hospital smell.

He blinked several times, trying to gather his thoughts. Every swallow sent a wave of pain through his irritated throat. On top of that came a wave of nausea that twisted his stomach. He inhaled cautiously, placing a hand on his belly in hopes of easing the discomfort. The sun was bright. Apparently, he’d slept for a long time, yet he still felt exhausted.

As soon as he gathered his senses, he immediately noticed an important detail: Angel wasn’t there. Of course. The vampire couldn’t enter. Damn hospital room with no curtains.

With a still clumsy gesture, Lindsey reached toward the nightstand where his phone lay. The screen lit up at first touch, showing several notifications, but he ignored them. His fingers quickly slid across the keyboard to send a message to Angel.

I’m awake. Are you okay?

Angel’s reply came almost instantly.

I’m fine. What about you?

I’m okay. Sorry I didn’t make things easy by struggling… I panicked… Lindsey apologized.

That doesn’t matter. You’re alive. I love you.

Lindsey smiled. Simple words, ones he heard regularly now, but they still made his heart beat a little faster.

Love you too ♥ You come see me tonight?

As soon as the sun sets. I’m in the hallway ^^

Lindsey straightened slightly against the pillows, surprised. His gaze instinctively turned to the door to the hallway. He smiled and tried to get up. But as soon as his foot touched the ground, the world spun dangerously around him. A violent dizziness forced him to sit back, gripping the bedsheet with a trembling hand. He lay back down and grabbed his phone again.

I’ll join you. In 5 minutes. When my head stops spinning like that.

---

In the end, it was Angel who joined him, as promised, as soon as the darkness allowed him to stay in the room. Lindsey had never joined him in the hallway. He had fallen back asleep.

Angel approached silently and sat at the edge of the bed. Lindsey’s features seemed more peaceful now that the pain had subsided a little. With infinite gentleness, Angel ran a hand through his hair, then caressed his cheek with his fingertips, savoring the reassuring warmth beneath his palm. Seeing him asleep like this was a cruel contrast to the panic and pain from earlier. He knew his lover was out of danger, but he couldn’t stop replaying those moments when he’d felt him weakening beneath his fingers.

Then, slowly, Lindsey stirred. His brow furrowed before his eyelids fluttered open. He surfaced slowly, his expression briefly showing confusion before his gaze landed on Angel. Relief instantly flickered in his blue eyes, and a happy smile spread across his lips.

Angel, still sitting at the edge of the bed, smiled back.

— "Hey. How are you feeling?"

He withdrew his hand from his cheek, just enough to give Lindsey the space he might need, but he didn’t move away. Lindsey winced in response. His throat was still sore, but it wasn’t unbearable. For once, he was almost relieved not to be able to speak.

Angel nodded at his husband’s grimace, eyes dark with worry, but Lindsey quickly reassured him.

"Better," he simply signed.

A faint smile curved Angel’s lips.

— "I guess this is one of those rare times you’re glad to be mute, huh?" he teased gently.

Lindsey raised a hand to retort with an indignant look, but Angel caught it before he could sign anything, drawing it gently against his lips to place a kiss on it.

Lindsey immediately smiled and pulled his hand back.

"At least you won’t hear me complain like this…" he signed, exaggerating the gestures.

Angel let out a soft laugh.

— "You’re right. It’s almost relaxing," he replied wryly.

Lindsey gave him another mock-indignant look before shaking his head. More serious, he placed a hand on his own chest, then on Angel’s, then he made another sign, simple but meaningful. "Thank you."

Angel’s teasing smile faded instantly, his expression turning grave. He wanted to apologize. For everything. For what he’d put him through, for not finding another solution to get him out of this Hell. For endangering him on a quest that was his.

But he knew Lindsey wouldn’t want his apologies. He had been clear from the start: he wouldn’t stand aside, this journey would be made together, despite the risks. Angel smiled, proud of his husband’s courage and the trust he consistently placed in him. He slid his hand over Lindsey’s and squeezed it gently.

— "Always," he whispered, half to himself.

Lindsey could guess what was going through his mind. He knew that way Angel had of carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, as if the entire universe depended on his guilt.

"It’s over now. I’m okay. I’m alive. And so are you. Well, as alive as a vampire can be," he signed with a smile. "That’s what matters."

Angel clenched his jaw.

Lindsey gave him a lopsided smile. He didn’t have the strength to argue tonight. So he traced a simple heart on Angel’s chest, letting his fingers linger on the fabric of his shirt longer than necessary.

Angel looked at him for a moment, and a faint smile eventually softened his serious features.

— "You’re infernal when you do that."

Lindsey frowned, confused.

"Do what?"

— "Be right," Angel murmured. "And make my dead heart beat even without saying a word."

Chapter Text

The little motel was as seedy as it was forgotten, lost somewhere between a deserted gas station and a road too straight to seem natural. But it had offered enough shelter for a few days of mandatory rest. Lindsey hadn’t seen the point — he felt fine, he could walk, he could drive, and he wasn’t the type to take it easy. A sore throat wasn’t going to keep him in bed. Angel, however, had left him no choice.

Lindsey had complied with the break with grudging acceptance, but he hadn’t balked at the tenderness that came with it. Angel never left his side, always finding some excuse to touch him in the tiny room, to brush his skin, to hold him tight at night. The bed wasn’t very big, but it was enough, and neither of them was going to complain about this closeness.

Between those moments, they had remained focused on their goal. Angel had sent a copy of the symbols Lindsey had transcribed from the stele to Wesley, asking him to research their meaning. The reply was taking its time, but that wasn’t surprising. These kinds of riddles rarely had easy solutions.

That morning, Lindsey, already wide awake, rolled over and straddled Angel. He smiled, all innocence, as his hands slowly skimmed over the vampire’s bare chest.

"Still convinced I need more rest?" he signed before leaning down to brush his lips along Angel’s jaw.

Angel let out a low growl, but it wasn’t a protest. His hands immediately found Lindsey’s hips, holding them in a possessive grip.

— "Hmm… Maybe you should try to convince me..."

Lindsey laughed silently, mischief sparking in his eyes. He shifted slightly, pressing more firmly against Angel, and grinned as he felt the vampire’s obvious reaction beneath him.

"I feel like I don’t even need to argue."

Angel smiled, his fingers trailing across Lindsey’s skin with calculated slowness. Then, in the blink of an eye, he flipped their positions, pinning him against the mattress with a predatory grin.

— "No. But I’ll let you plead your case anyway, Counselor McDonald..."

Lindsey didn’t answer. He spread his legs in invitation, a cheeky smile tugging at his lips. His hands tangled in Angel’s dark hair as he pulled him into an eager kiss, letting out a muffled sigh when the vampire’s palms ran down his stomach, then slipped under his pajamas to find his taut erection, quickly freeing it.

Angel didn’t rush. He savored, tracing a line of kisses down Lindsey’s neck, taking care not to hurt him in that still-sensitive spot. He preferred to move lower, and lightly nibbled the skin just above his heart, teasing his nipples.

At the same time, he tenderly inserted a finger inside his lover. Lindsey arched his back beneath him, gripping the sheets. He loved this. The waiting, this slow build, this moment when Angel took all his time, forcing him to feel every shiver, every wave of heat rising inside. He closed his eyes, just enjoying what those lips and hands made him feel.

But he wasn’t the kind to just lie back too long without taking part. After all, he had a cause to plead: that he was ready to continue their journey. His hand slid between them to touch the vampire where he knew it would have the most effect.

When Lindsey tightened his fingers around his erection, Angel grunted against his chest. Unable to help himself, he bit down. Harder this time, but just enough to draw blood.

Lindsey shuddered beneath the bite, a rush of heat coursing through him as Angel gently sucked the drop of blood from his nipple. His muscles tensed, and he welcomed the pleasure mixed with the slight pain with an excitement that significantly increased his heart rate.

Angel smiled against his skin. He loved how Lindsey responded under him, caught between anticipation and impatience. He savored each reaction as much as the blood itself. He sucked harder.

To Angel’s delight, Lindsey’s back arched at the sensation. With pleasure, the vampire slid in a second finger inside him, stretching him with that fierce patience that drove Lindsey crazy. It wasn’t enough. He wanted more. He wanted to feel Angel inside him, the weight of his body, the restrained power the vampire never fully unleashed. Lindsey let his nails scrape down Angel’s back, urging him to shift up a gear, and with a trembling hand, he gripped Angel's hips to bring them even closer together.

But Angel abruptly withdrew his fingers, making Lindsey grunt in frustration. A smirk curved the vampire’s lips as he nibbled Lindsey’s earlobe.

— "Impatient?" he whispered, his voice rough and full of promise.

Lindsey, eyes shining with desire, shot him a defiant look. Angel adored seeing him like this: offered, but still ready to fight back with just a glance. Slowly, he spread Lindsey’s legs a little wider, his erection rubbing against his entrance, without giving in to the urge to take him. He paused to admire him: his chest rising with excitement, his breath shallow, his cheeks flushed with anticipation.

But Lindsey had reached his limit. With a swift movement, he wrapped his legs around Angel’s hips, forcing him to end the teasing. The vampire let out a low chuckle, clearly enjoying his lover’s fervor, and he leaned in, capturing his mouth in a demanding kiss. And finally, he pushed in.

Lindsey threw his head back, a silent gasp on his parted lips. The sensation was always intense — that intrusion stretching him just enough to steal a shiver, the feeling of being entirely full, claimed, finally complete. Angel didn’t move right away, just reveling in the warmth enveloping him.

Then, slowly, he sank just a bit deeper into him with a tenderness that bordered on torturous, forcing Lindsey to feel every inch of him.

But Lindsey’s patience had run out.

With a sudden movement, he grabbed Angel’s shoulders and twisted to the side, using his weight and the element of surprise to reverse their positions. Before Angel could react, he found himself on his back with Lindsey straddling him, a triumphant grin on his face.

The vampire raised an eyebrow, amused and aroused by the initiative.

— "Someone’s in a hurry, it seems…" he murmured, his hands settling on Lindsey’s hips, as if hesitating between letting him have his way or regaining the ascendancy immediately.

But Lindsey didn't give him time to do anything. Without hesitation, he lowered, impaling himself deeper in a smooth, delicious motion, savoring the exquisite burn as he opened fully to him.

A deep growl escaped Angel, betraying his pleasure as much as his surprise.

Without pause, Lindsey began to move, setting his own pace. He undulated with fierce precision, dictating the cadence, his hands resting on Angel’s chest to lean on and amplify his every move. Shivers visibly rippled through his body, and he let himself linger in the sensation, half-lidded eyes, lips parted, completely lost in his own pleasure.

Angel watched, mesmerized.

— "Mmh… Such a nice view, Counselor McDonald…" he murmured, appreciative. "Are you trying to bribe the jury?"

Lindsey like this was an intoxicating sight: his hard cock pulsing against his belly with each thrust, the expression of pure abandon on his face... His chest rose with each breath, his thighs trembling slightly, but his gaze remained intense, full of defiance. He was proving he was in top form, and he did so with burning fervor.

The lawyer was accelerating now, arching slightly to increase the friction, instinctively chasing the perfect angle that would explode his pleasure. Angel groaned. He wanted to watch him go all the way, to lose himself, to take everything. But he couldn’t stay passive either anymore. His hands moved to Lindsey's thighs, gripping them firmly before taking over, lifting him slightly to better drive the movements, imposing a deeper, more powerful rhythm. Lindsey closed his eyes, letting his husband take control as he was already on the edge of ecstasy.

Then, in one fluid motion, Angel used his vampire strength to flip them again.

Their bodies now collided in perfect synchrony, each thrust bringing them closer to the abyss of pleasure. Angel angled his hips just right, aiming for that precise spot inside his lover, and kept striking it again and again, relentlessly. Panting, Lindsey tensed around him, his nails digging into Angel’s skin.

— "Fuck, yeah, Lindsey…" Angel whispered, mesmerized by the sight of his lover unraveling.

The vampire grunted, overwhelmed by the heat clenching around him. He wanted to make it last, but Lindsey’s expression — those glazed eyes, that raw desire, the way his mouth opened without sound — was driving him insane.

He was close and Angel could feel it. He wrapped a hand around his cock, stroking him with practiced firmness, synchronizing his movements to the rhythm.

Lindsey tensed almost immediately, a voiceless cry escaping from his throat as he came, waves of pleasure crashing over him uncontrollably.

No matter how many times he saw it, the sight of his lover like this pushed Angel over the edge. With one final thrust, he lost his own control, releasing inside Lindsey with a deep growl, and he sank his fangs into Lindsey’s shoulder in a final surge of ecstasy.

The bite made Lindsey jolt, a mix of pain and pleasure exploding inside him, sending another shockwave straight to his cock. His fingers naturally found Angel’s hair and gripped tightly, his head falling back as a silent cry left his lips.

It took them both a while to come down from their orgasm. They stayed that way for a moment, their bodies still connected. Finally, Angel gently pulled out and watched his husband. Lindsey’s chest was slick with sweat and cum. His eyelids were closed and he looked blissed out and completely sated. A smile tugged at Angel’s lips. His husband really was gorgeous.

Lindsey cracked one eye open and offered a satisfied, slightly lazy grin.

"I think I’ve proved my point," he signed.

Angel chuckled softly, then leaned in for a kiss.

— "I think so… Strong closing argument, Counselor McDonald. You look like you’re in perfect health…" he murmured, amused but exhausted. "Me, on the other hand…"

Lindsey let out a soundless laugh and shrugged mockingly.

"Well, you are nearly 300 years old…"

— "Hey! 253!" Angel corrected with a vexed look before smiling.

The rest of the world could wait a little longer.

---

Lindsey was finishing packing his things. His bag was ready. So was Angel’s. The vampire was waiting for him by the door, car keys spinning between his fingers. He was still a little worried about Lindsey’s health. Sure, he looked fine, but they now had about a 16-hour drive before reaching their destination, and that was no small feat.

— "Got everything?" he asked calmly.

Lindsey nodded. Unlike Angel, he wasn’t worried. Although he would never admit it, those few days of rest at the motel had done him good, and now he felt perfectly fine to face crazy vampires or breath-thieving demons, whatever.

"What are we waiting for?" he signed with determination as he stepped out the door.

Angel smiled and followed him outside. The cool evening air was refreshing.

— "Let’s see what Virginia has in store for us," he said.

And they left the motel, back on the road.

---

Richmond, Virginia. Finally.

The car slowed as it entered the city, gliding through alleys lit by lampposts and neon signs. At this late hour, the streets still vibrated with activity, among the last hurried passersby and the distant rumble of traffic on the highway.

Lindsey stretched his shoulders with a slight grimace, glad they had almost arrived. After hours on the road, his muscles were stiff and sore, but nothing unmanageable. Nothing that another massage from Angel couldn’t fix, anyway. The thought brought a faint smile to his lips. He was feeling good despite a lingering pain in his throat. He let his gaze wander across the city while Angel looked for a place to park, taking in the sights. The red-brick buildings typical of the historic district stood alongside modern skyscrapers, while the James River wound its way between cobblestone streets lined with restaurants and vintage stores. A new stop, a new setting. Despite the danger, he was genuinely enjoying this journey. It was so different from their daily life in Los Angeles.

A few moments later, Angel parked. No more dingy motels in the middle of nowhere! This time, they had chosen a four-star hotel. With a real bed and a restaurant. Lindsey was getting tired of gas station sandwiches. The city would also make it easier to find a butcher shop, and therefore fresh blood for Angel.

The vampire cast a brief glance at his husband, who was still scanning the surroundings with undisguised curiosity.

— "You like it?" he asked.

Lindsey nodded, stretching his legs with relief. Yes, the city was beautiful, a blend of tradition and modernity. And the hotel in front of them was impressive too. But for now, Lindsey had only one question in mind: before or after they settled in, would he get a massage?

---

The next evening, after dinner at the hotel restaurant, Angel and Lindsey left the lively streets behind and headed toward Hollywood Cemetery. Their goal: to investigate William Wortham Pool, better known as the "Richmond Vampire."

It was this legend that had brought them to the city: a European vampire who had supposedly managed to become human again before dying, leaving behind a skeleton instead of the usual ashes.

"You do realize we spend most of our time in ugly cemeteries or crypts these days..." Lindsey remarked as they climbed the small hill.

— "You’re exaggerating," Angel replied with a half-smile. "And this one’s actually quite nice! We could’ve brought stuff for a picnic."

Lindsey raised an amused eyebrow.

"A candlelit dinner among the graves, how romantic," he signed with mock seriousness. "What’s on the menu? Blood and sandwiches? Or are you just planning to watch me eat? Or eat me?"

Angel shook his head with a laugh, then stole a kiss on Lindsey’s cheek, his fingers trailing gently down to the small of his back.

— "Details," he said, amused. "And I love watching you eat... or eating you," he added, kissing Lindsey just beside his ear.

Lindsey blushed and shivered. Angel chuckled softly but didn’t move away, savoring this closeness despite the environment clearly not conducive to displays of affection. But the place was welcoming. Holly-lined alleys snaked between elegant monuments, lit here and there by scattered lampposts. It was nothing like the oppressive atmosphere of Stull Cemetery and its crumbling tombs. Here, important figures were buried, including presidents, and the cemetery felt both peaceful and majestic.

Yet, Angel moved carefully, eyes scanning every nook and cranny: even if the place seemed safe, caution never hurt. Together, they made their way toward the mausoleum of William Wortham Pool.

The exterior appeared innocuous at first glance, except for the supposedly Egyptian symbols mingling with timeworn esoteric motifs, all strangely evocative of a mysterious language. The mausoleum was built into the side of a hill, and only a gate protected the entrance.

Angel glanced around. Nothing suspicious. In fact, they were completely alone.

— "Not a sound," Angel urged.

Lindsey rolled his eyes. As if he were going to start talking all of a sudden...

Once Angel had forced the lock, he slowly pushed the gate open, and they entered quietly. A damp stone scent enveloped them immediately. The space wasn’t very large but fairly well lit thanks to the opening that let in moonlight and the nearby streetlamps: they hardly even needed the flashlight Angel was carrying.

Before them, two stone coffins lay side by side in the dim light. Lindsey stepped toward the first: 1913, Alice. The rest was too faded to read. They barely glance at it, turning instead to the second one: William Wortham Pool’s. Besides the name, strange symbols were carved into the stone. The same ones as outside.

Lindsey crouched in front of the inscription, tracing the stone with his fingertips. Angel leaned over him, bringing his face close.

— "Any idea what it means?" he asked, brow furrowed.

Lindsey shook his head. Straightening up, he signed casually:

"Just that you’re way too sexy when you get that focused look on your face."

Angel stifled a laugh and suddenly grabbed Lindsey by the collar of his jacket to draw him close. Lindsey let himself be pulled in without the slightest resistance, a cheeky grin on his lips.

— "Maybe I should focus on something else?" Angel murmured, just inches from Lindsey’s face.

Lindsey smiled and this time he was the one who stole a quick kiss from the vampire.

"Come on, work now!" he signed, gesturing toward the sarcophagus.

Angel rolled his eyes but obeyed, placing his hands on the coffin lid.

— "Let’s see what this ‘vampire’ has to show us..." he said, using his supernatural strength to push the heavy stone lid aside.

Chapter Text

The stone fell heavily to the ground, raising a cloud of dust that forced them to step back. Lindsey coughed, his hand covering his mouth to protect his still fragile throat. When the air cleared, they leaned in to observe the contents of the coffin.

There, amid torn remains of fabric and leather, a skeleton lay under the moonlight, perfectly intact.

Angel squinted.

— "A human," he announced plainly. "Well, what’s left of one."

Lindsey raised an eyebrow. That proved nothing: it was entirely possible this wasn’t even William Wortham Pool’s skeleton, but just some random guy.

Angel nodded, understanding Lindsey’s look without him needing to sign anything. He immediately bent down and began searching through the personal effects buried with the deceased: an old wallet whose leather was falling apart, some faded photographs, a medallion corroded by moisture... Nothing extraordinary. No notes, no magical artifacts, nothing that could give them a clue as to the exact identity of the deceased. Angel still picked up the medallion and the photos: despite their poor condition, maybe Sienna could make something out of them...

— "This doesn’t really get us much further..." Angel grumbled.

Lindsey cast one last glance at the skeleton before turning to his husband.

"Were you hoping for a dried-up vampire with a ‘How to Become Human for Dummies’ manual?" he signed with a teasing smile.

Angel chuckled. Lindsey was definitely on form today.

— "Don’t mock me, that would’ve made things so much easier!" he retorted, putting the lid back on.

He was about to close the coffin when a detail caught his attention: just behind it, a crack stretched across the mausoleum wall.

— "Shine the flashlight here instead of making jokes..." Angel said, handing it to him.

He knelt down and ran his hand along the stone. A faint draft escaped from the relief carving. The vampire began to feel along the wall. Suddenly, his hand found a notch. Using his vampire strength, Angel pushed and the stone slid, revealing a passage. It was narrow and low-ceilinged. They would have to crawl through it on all fours.

Lindsey let out a sigh as the way opened, immediately attracting Angel’s attention who turned around. Lindsey stood there, with the small flashlight wedged between his teeth.

"Tell me this isn’t a crypt full of breath-stealing demons…" he signed, almost letting it fall.

Angel burst into laughter.

With an angry gesture, Lindsey set the flashlight down on the corner of the coffin.

"Don’t laugh! I can’t sign and hold this damn thing at the same time!"

— "I get that, sweetheart…" Angel smiled as he stood. "But it’s still funny…"

He gently took his hand and pulled him close as Lindsey gave him an exaggerated dramatic look.

— "I don’t think it’s full of demons…" he added, pointing toward the passage. "Shall we see?"

Lindsey nodded, and Angel slipped into the narrow tunnel first, crouching down before crawling into the darkness. Lindsey picked up the flashlight and followed. The stone was cold beneath him, and the tight space forced him to progress slowly behind Angel.

They advanced, the silence broken only by the rustle of their clothes against the stone and the faint echo of their movements. It was dark now and, lacking a vampire’s night vision, Lindsey was glad to have the flashlight to avoid placing his hands on any sharp rocks. They continued like this for a moment, focused. Then, Lindsey instinctively looked up. Bad idea.

A sly grin spread across his face as his eyes landed on the view ahead. Focused on crawling forward on all fours, Angel was completely unaware of the temptation he was presenting. Unable to resist, Lindsey raised an eyebrow, then lifted a hand… and gave the vampire’s ass a deliberate, suggestive squeeze.

Angel froze immediately and turned his head, giving his husband a weary look barely perceptible in the tunnel’s shadows.

— "Lindsey…" he simply warned.

Lindsey just looked at him.

— "I’m trying to concentrate, this could be dangerous," Angel scolded, not fooled by the innocent air on his husband’s face.

Lindsey nodded seriously, and they resumed crawling. Of course, just a few meters further in, his fingers found Angel’s ass again, this time even more insistently.

— "Stop playing, Lin," Angel growled, turning back toward him. "Keep your hand to yourself or I’ll cut it off."

Lindsey put on a shocked face as he took in the threat. For an instant, he looked at his right hand, as if hesitating whether it was worth it or not. Then he obediently placed them back on the cold stone with a smile, trying to look as innocent as possible.

Angel shook his head and they continued to crawl like this for a few more minutes until the tunnel finally widened. Angel straightened up, relieved to stand again. He held out a hand to Lindsey who leaned on him to get up.

— "You okay?" Angel asked, watching him brush the dust off his jeans.

Lindsey nodded and shone the flashlight ahead. Now far from the mausoleum lit by the streetlights and moonlight, it was their only light source. The passage seemed to extend for several more meters, and the walls, though still made of stone, looked more recent, as if they had been reinforced in more modern times.

They walked on for a while, cautiously. Then suddenly, the stone walls gave way to something else: a door. Clearly of human origin, with no hint of the supernatural. The metal was eaten away by rust. Angel and Lindsey looked at each other, a little skeptically, before pushing it open.

On the other side of the door, the flashlight revealed a vast opening several meters wide, lined with railroad tracks. A little further, twisted metal structures, fallen beams, and rails disappeared beneath earth and rubble.

Angel stopped, scanning the area.

— "A disused railroad tunnel…" he murmured. "And partly collapsed."

Lindsey and Angel carefully stepped along the tracks, sweeping the area with the flashlight. They quickly checked the side of the rockfall and then headed in the opposite direction. The place was silent, disturbed only by the crunch of gravel beneath their steps.

Just a few meters ahead, Angel stopped and pointed to an old service door set into the tunnel wall. Its metal was corroded, covered in rust and old scratches. Lindsey reached out and pushed the handle, but the door didn’t budge right away. He pressed harder, and it finally opened with a mournful creak, revealing a narrow passage to the outside.

— "A potential exit," Angel murmured.

Lindsey nodded and aimed the flashlight further. Its beam revealed a rusted ventilation grate through which moonlight filtered faintly. High up, but wide enough for a man to crawl through.

Angel gave a silent nod, taking note of the exit without needing any signs from Lindsey. They continued, following the tracks. The tunnel's atmosphere was heavy, the air thick with damp and dust.

Suddenly, Lindsey’s foot caught on something. He stumbled and his hand dropped the flashlight, which hit the ground and went out instantly.

— "Lindsey? You okay?" Angel asked.

Of course, Lindsey could only swear silently. He dropped to his knees on the tracks and started feeling around for the flashlight.

Angel crossed his arms and waited, stifling a laugh but refraining from any remarks about his husband's all-too-human clumsiness.

After a few seconds of searching, Lindsey’s fingers finally found the flashlight again and he switched it back on.

Angel immediately leaned over to his partner still on all fours on the floor and snatched it from him with a smirk.

— "I think it would be wiser if I were the one to handle this incredibly difficult task of managing the flashlight…" he teased.

Lindsey looked offended but didn’t have time to sign a comeback.

At that exact moment, a bell rang somewhere faintly. Midnight.

A dull roar suddenly echoed through the tunnel, making the tracks vibrate. Angel and Lindsey instantly looked up, just in time to be blinded by a harsh light.

Headlights.

A dark shape was hurtling toward them at full speed.

Time seemed to freeze.

Angel’s body reacted before his brain knew what was happening. He grabbed Lindsey with one hand, yanked him up abruptly, and slammed him against the tunnel wall. Just in time.

The train passed with a deafening crash, only inches from them, sending a freezing gust of wind across their skin. A locomotive, pulling a single car. Moving at full speed, the train didn’t slow when it reached the rockslide. It simply continued on… through the stone as if it didn’t exist. As quickly as it appeared, it vanished, swallowed by the darkness.

Silence fell, oppressive, brutal.

Lindsey’s heart was pounding. Angel remained frozen for a second, then instinctively pointed the flashlight at Lindsey’s legs, which had still been on the tracks just a few seconds earlier.

Unharmed.

A wave of relief washed over him. Still in shock, he looked away, unable to ignore the violent memory of the vision he had a few months ago. His throat tightened, imagining what might have happened if he hadn’t managed to pull Lindsey away in time.

Next to him, Lindsey seemed to be having the same thought. He instinctively moved his legs, as if to make sure they were still there, then let out a relieved sigh. He would, however, have one hell of a bruise on his back tomorrow, given how roughly Angel had slammed him against the wall.

Turning to Angel, who hadn’t said a word yet, he caught his gaze.

"I’m fine," he signed reassuringly. "Both legs still attached."

Angel gave a nod but remained silent, shaken. He was still fighting the tension in his body.

Lindsey watched him for a moment, then signed with a grin: "Still got both hands, too."

Before Angel could react, Lindsey gave his ass a quick swat, a teasing smile on his lips. The vampire let out a soft laugh, his shoulders finally relaxing. With a tender gesture, he pulled Lindsey into a hug.

— "Sorry… I was scared," he admitted, resting his head in the crook of Lindsey’s neck. "You’re all right?"

Lindsey nodded and wrapped his arms around Angel, trying to reassure his husband with little caresses on his back.

When they pulled apart, Lindsey’s expression was more serious.

"What was that? A ghost train?" he signed.

Angel looked around the tunnel, still a bit troubled.

— "Seems like it…" He paused before adding, "But whether it’s connected to our ‘human vampire’... no idea."

They exchanged a perplexed look, then turned toward the collapse further down.

— "I don’t know about you, but I think it’s worth digging on that side," Angel said.

Lindsey felt the same way and they agreed to come back the next night, better equipped. They would need shovels to try to clear the passage and see what was beyond the rubble. Hopefully without causing another collapse…

On the way back, Lindsey also insisted on one essential point.

"I’m going to buy headlamps. Never again with this damn flashlight."

Angel raised an amused eyebrow that momentarily masked his frown.

— "You didn’t have to drop it…"

But he didn’t protest. He agreed wholeheartedly.

Chapter Text

After sleeping through most of the morning — a much-needed luxury after the previous day's adventures — Lindsey had slipped out in the early afternoon to buy the necessary equipment for their nighttime expedition. Meanwhile, Angel had stayed out of the sun in their hotel room. He took the opportunity to make a few phone calls.

— "Angel Investigations, we help you, hello!" came Sienna's familiar voice on the other end of the line.

— "Hey, Sienna!" he replied, a slight smile in his voice upon hearing her greeting.

— "Angel! Oh, it’s so good to hear from you!" she exclaimed. "How’s the honeymoon? Hopefully better than things around here..."

Angel frowned.

— "What’s going on? Is everyone okay?" he asked, immediately recalling the vision where Sienna was being chased by a vampire-turned Gunn.

— "Oh yes, everyone’s fine. Just the usual, you know: fire, screams and monsters around every corner. A vampire invasion too… And Illyria took off again… I think she wants to visit all the states in the US, if I understood correctly."

Angel chuckled. He trusted his team, but still didn’t like knowing they were in danger. However, they seemed to be handling it.

Reassured, Angel gave her a quick summary of recent events: a crazy vampire fan of rock and chocolate, a descent into Hell that had nearly cost Lindsey his life, and their latest lead - this ‘human vampire’.

— "A medallion, huh?" Sienna said when he got to what they’d found in the coffin.

— "It looks a bit like Spike’s," Angel explained, turning the piece of jewelry in his hands. "A stone set in fine golden wire. Except this one isn’t a crystal. It’s blue."

— "Mmh… I wasn’t part of the team back then. You mean the medallion that nearly killed Spike and then turned him into a ghost?"

— "Yeah. And coincidence or not, we almost got run over by a ghost train."

— "A ghost train?" Sienna exclaimed. "Okay… that, we haven’t encountered yet in Los Angeles… But if it were a ghost, it couldn’t really run you over, right?"

— "Trust me, it felt very real at the time. It was only afterward that we realized it was going right through the rockfall a little farther on…"

— "Okay… weird… You didn’t try wearing the medallion, did you?"

— "No, and I’d rather not," Angel replied. "But it looks like it can open. If you could dig up any info, just so I don’t trigger an apocalypse by looking inside..."

— "Yeah, I’ll look into it, but be careful..." she said, taking note of the medallion’s description.

— "Promise. We also found some photos. Do you think you could see what you can find out from them?" Angel then asked.

— "Of course! I can try dating them and running facial recognition. And maybe some more magical stuff too."

— "Great, thanks! Lindsey will send you an email later today with the pictures and some photos of the medallion."

— "Perfect!"

— "Thanks, Sienna. What would we do without you..."

The young woman burst out laughing on the other end.

— "One last thing, Sienna: has Wesley found anything about the symbols we sent him? The ones we copied from the stele in Hell."

— "He’s struggling," Sienna admitted. "And he hasn’t had much time with this vampire invasion… But I’ll ask him to call you as soon as he finds anything!"

They exchanged a few more words before hanging up.

Angel glanced toward the window. The sun was still shining behind the curtains: there were several hours before he could go outside. He followed up with a call to Connor.

— "Dad?"

Angel felt something warm settle in his chest at that single word. His relationship with his son had greatly improved since the time the latter had tried to kill him.

— "Hey, Connor," he replied.

His son gave him a quick recap of the past few days, mixing anecdotes from his new classes with more general updates. Angel listened attentively as the door opened. Lindsey entered, setting the keys down on the table before meeting his husband’s gaze.

Angel covered the phone for a moment.

— "Well?"

"It’s all in the car," Lindsey signed.

Angel nodded and turned back to his call.

— "Sorry for the interruption, Connor: it’s Lindsey," he said, then paused, watching Lindsey’s gesture. "He says hi."

Lindsey immediately signed a much longer sentence. Angel stared at him blankly, blinked, then turned his attention back to the phone.

— "And… he’ll send you a message. Because apparently, he’s got too much to tell you for me to play messenger."

Connor burst out laughing on the other end, while Lindsey shot Angel an outraged look as the vampire ended the call and hung up.

"You could have said more than that!" Lindsey signed, hands emphasizing his exasperation.

Angel shrugged, mock-innocent.

— "That was the essential part, sweetheart. You’ve got the whole afternoon to text him…"

Lindsey rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress a faint smirk.

— "Ready for tonight?" the vampire asked instead, trying to change the subject to avoid a teasing remark from his husband.

Lindsey nodded.

"Ready."

In just a few hours, they would finally see what lay beyond those collapsed stones.

---

As evening fell, Angel and Lindsey got ready to set off on another expedition. Sienna had just called them back: she’d already examined the photos they had emailed and confirmed the identity of the deceased: it was indeed William Wortham Pool, their ‘human vampire’. No information on the medallion yet...

Hoping to find more clues, the two men headed straight for the tunnel, this time fully equipped: headlamps, shovel and pickaxe, and a rope just in case. The area was deserted when they arrived. Which was fortunate, since their gear made them far from discreet. They quickly located the rusted service door they had spotted from inside the tunnel the day before, and Angel took only a fraction of a second to break it open. No need to crawl through the underground passage this time.

Inside the tunnel, the headlamps provided better lighting than the flashlight, allowing them to inspect the area more easily. Lindsey stopped at the tracks and gave them a light kick, as if to make sure they were real. He still couldn’t believe what they had seen the night before. A train passing straight through a rockfall as if it wasn’t even there. A hallucination? Unlikely. Or maybe they were losing their minds... With everything they had been through, it wasn’t impossible.

"Shall we dig?" he signed, his gaze shifting to the pile of rubble.

Angel nodded.

— "Yes, but in just one spot. And we’re careful about cave-ins."

He put his words into action and planted his pickaxe into the earth mixed with debris.

They worked in silence for several minutes. Angel dug while Lindsey cleared away the rubble behind him. Even though the blows of the pickaxe echoed through the tunnel, they both tried to be as quiet as possible.

After a while, Angel stopped. With a gesture, he motioned for Lindsey to step back and used his vampiric strength to dislodge a larger rock. The small boulder fell to the ground with a loud thud. Lindsey didn’t bother trying to move it. He stepped forward and pointed at something.

Through the stones and rubble they had dislodged, an opening was beginning to take shape about a meter off the ground. Just wide enough for a small child to squeeze through. Not for two men of their stature. But the gap let something in: light.

Angel exchanged a look with Lindsey and they reached forward and pushed aside a few more stones. Once the breach was wide enough, they stepped closer, and Angel nimbly slipped through. On the other side, he scanned the area, trying to determine if it was safe before signaling Lindsey to follow.

"No one," the vampire signed, using sign language just in case an enemy was nearby.

Lindsey nodded and stepped up onto the fallen rock to reach the gap.

"Careful," Angel signed again, worried that a wrong move might bring the whole thing crashing down.

He held out his hand to help Lindsey climb through the opening. Once on the other side, Lindsey looked around as well. In front of them, the tracks continued through the long tunnel. A dim, flickering glow seemed to be coming from a bend a little further ahead.

They advanced slowly, wary, trying to make as little noise as possible. A scent of metal and dust hung in the air. Lindsey had to resist the urge to cough with every step.

When they reached the turn, they both froze.

There, standing still on the rusted tracks, was the train. The same one as the night before: a locomotive blackened by time, and a single passenger car. The interior was lit, as if ready for boarding. But that wasn’t exactly the source of the glow they had seen. The entire train emitted a strange, shimmering radiance, that seemed to come from everywhere at once.

Lindsey and Angel looked at each other, hesitant. Then, the vampire reached out and brushed the cold metal. He half expected his hand to pass through it like a mirage, but the moment his fingers made contact, the truth was clear.

— "I can touch it…" he murmured. "It’s real. This isn’t a ghost train…"

Lindsey swallowed, thinking about what that meant. They really had narrowly escaped death the night before. That train was perfectly capable of crushing them.

"Do we get on?" he signed.

Angel was about to reply when a flicker of movement caught his eye.

Someone—or something—was approaching.

A figure emerged from the locomotive, translucent but substantial than a typical ghost. He radiated the same eerie light as the train. As it drew closer, Angel and Lindsey recognized him immediately. The stern face was the same as in the photos recovered from the coffin. William Wortham Pool. Their ‘human vampire’. Or perhaps ‘human vampire and ghost’…

He stopped in front of them, head slightly tilted, as if assessing their presence. He seemed slightly surprised. Then, with an automatic gesture, he extended his hand, palm open.

— "Your tickets, please" he requested.

His voice echoed strangely, as if it came from several places at once.

Angel and Lindsey exchanged a glance.

— "We don’t have any," Angel answered cautiously.

— "In that case, it’ll be two dollars each for a one-way trip, four dollars each for a round trip."

Once again, Angel and Lindsey looked at each other, unsure. Then Lindsey reached into his wallet and pulled out a ten-dollar bill. He handed it to Pool, who took it. Like the train, he was tangible despite the ghostly glow surrounding him.

— "The train departs at 11 PM and returns at midnight," he added, handing back the change to Lindsey.

Angel checked his watch: 10:45 PM. They might as well explore the train in the meantime. He and Lindsey followed their strange controller into the car.

— "Stay alert," Angel murmured. "We don’t know if this spirit is friendly or not…"

Lindsey nodded, his hand resting on the knife at his belt.

The inside of the train was battered but traditional: rows of seats lined up along the windows, most of them heavily worn.

They had barely stepped in when Pool abruptly stopped. A heavy silence fell. Then, suddenly, his features twisted and he turned to glare at Angel with pure hatred, his eyes blazing with wild rage.

— "THIEF!" he screamed. "THIEF!"

Then he lunged at him with brutal force.

Angel had just enough time to raise his arm to block the blow, but the impact sent him crashing into a seat with a heavy thud. Lindsey reacted instantly. His knife gleamed under the light for a second before shifting into a longsword. He rushed forward, ready to fight, immediately placing himself between Angel and the specter, sword raised. Lindsey knew his husband was strong, very strong. So for him to be thrown like that in a single blow? Pool was more dangerous than he looked.

He tried a first strike, but the ghost was fast and dodged. The confined space of the train car didn’t help Lindsey. Each swing risked catching on the seats. Pool, on the other hand, had no trouble moving, with strange fluidity. With a leap, he attacked, and Lindsey barely blocked his punch. But the sword didn’t even scratch the specter’s skin. Instead, the shock from the impact resonated through Lindsey’s arm and shoulder. Damn. He didn’t stand a chance as a human...

Behind him, Angel got back to his feet, seemingly recovered from the hit.

— "Stay back, Lin!" he shouted, jumping back into the fight.

Lindsey obeyed but, frustrated at not being able to make a difference, took the opportunity to look for a better angle to attack. He gripped his sword tighter, ready to strike at the first opening... but a sound behind him made him stiffen.

He turned quickly. Two more translucent figures were approaching from the far end of the car. One, more massive, wore a tattered firefighter’s uniform, his face scarred by burns. The other wore laborer’s clothes. Both had their eyes fixed on Angel.

Lindsey didn’t wait for them to strike first. He advanced down the aisle and slashed through the air, forcing one of the specters to step back. He knew he was no match for them if they were as strong as Pool, but maybe he could keep them at bay...

— "Give it back! Give it back!" they shouted in unison, their voices echoing through the car.

Lindsey understood immediately. The medallion.

He tried to get Angel’s attention, but the vampire was quite busy with Pool, and it was impossible for Lindsey to sign while fighting. In any case, he didn’t have the luxury of being distracted. Even though he wasn’t their main target, his opponents seemed determined to get past him, despite his sword blows.

A loud thud rang out suddenly, and Lindsey turned.

Angel had just been thrown out of the train and Pool was bent over him.

— "Shit!" the vampire cursed, realizing the fight was getting out of hand.

The firefighter followed at once, striking Lindsey aside with a violent blow before leaping off the train. Lindsey tried to do the same, but the third specter blocked his path, preventing him from reaching his husband.

Frustrated, Lindsey swung his sword hard. But again, his adversary seemed to absorb the impact. He was getting nowhere. He really wasn’t. He felt useless, something rare when it came to his swordsmanship.

Outside, Angel was struggling against his two opponents. Through the window, Lindsey saw him on the ground again.

Then Pool pounced on him, tearing the vampire’s coat open in a single, violent motion. His hand rummaged right to an inner pocket, like he already knew where to look… and he pulled out the medallion. His eyes lit up with a greedy gleam, as if he had just recovered the most precious thing in the world.

Pool stood up, clutching the medallion in his palm like it was worth more than his own existence. The other specters immediately stopped fighting. The firefighter and the workman joined Pool and all three stared at the object. A long silence followed. Inside the car, Lindsey watched the scene, holding his breath.

Then, with a simple nod, Pool pivoted... and calmly climbed back into the train, walking past Lindsey as if nothing had happened.

Lindsey stood frozen. Just like that?

A shrill whistle pierced the silence. 11 PM.

With a simple clack, the train doors closed.

Lindsey jumped and rushed forward, but it was too late. The train trembled slightly, then began to move.

Outside, Angel, still sitting in the dust, looked up. It had all happened too fast. Helpless, he watched in horror as the train pulled away… with Lindsey inside.

Chapter Text

Lindsey stayed frozen for a moment, his muscles tense, his sword still gripped tightly in his hand. The train was picking up speed now.

Okay… We got separated, he thought. Fine. No big deal. It’s a round trip. I stay on the train and everything will be fine.

But he didn’t feel reassured. Sure, he was used to dangerous situations. He’d been through plenty. Back when he worked at Wolfram & Hart, or more recently, since Angel had revived Angel Investigations. He’d faced demons, vampires, and all kinds of monsters. But it had been a long time since he’d experienced such things alone. And never alone and mute.

He glanced at Pool, who was heading calmly toward the locomotive as if nothing had happened.

He doesn’t look aggressive anymore. Good, Lindsey tried to reassure himself.

He knew he was no match for the specter. After a few seconds, he decided there was no immediate danger. With a flick of his wrist, his sword returned to the size of a pocketknife, and he tucked it into his belt, still within reach anyway. The train was now at full speed. He sat down in a seat near a window and close to the door. Just in case… Outside, it was dark. Completely black. No way to tell where they were going. His fingers tightened on the armrest.

---

Helpless, Angel had watched the train leave, taking his husband to an unknown destination. His instincts had screamed at him to chase after it, even to cling to the back of the car. But he had no time to react. Nor to mope afterwards.

The two specters who hadn’t boarded the train seemed determined to make him pay for stealing the medallion. The fight, which had been momentarily interrupted, resumed with violence. Angel took the first blow without flinching, retaliating with brutal force. But like before, his opponents were fast and powerful. And there were two of them. They struck in near-perfect coordination, constantly flanking him, forcing him to defend rather than attack.

Once again, Angel was quickly overwhelmed by their strength. One particularly hard hit sent him staggering. He tried to stand up, to strike back, but before he could do anything, another blow landed at the back of his skull. He hadn’t lasted more than five minutes…

---

When he woke up a few minutes later, Angel immediately recognized where he was. It was the same spot where Lindsey had dropped the flashlight the night before, near the rockfall. Where they had almost been crushed by the train…

Angel attempted to get up, only to realize instantly that he couldn’t move an inch.

— "Fuck!" he swore.

His arms were pinned to his sides, bound tightly by a metal cable that kept him firmly attached to the rails. Same with his legs. His adversaries hadn’t held back when tying him up. And strangely, they had left him alone, without any surveillance. Angel tried to wriggle free as best he could, but the cable was solid. Too solid. Even for his vampire strength.

Nevertheless, Angel managed to twist his wrist enough so that he could glance at his watch: 11:20 PM. So it had been 20 minutes since Lindsey had left with the train. And he was supposed to return at midnight. Angel did the quick math: he had 40 minutes.

40 minutes until the train came back, following the exact same path as the night before.

40 minutes to free himself, or he’d be crushed.

A vampire could survive a lot of things. Being crushed under several tons of metal at full speed wasn’t one of them.

Gritting his teeth, Angel resumed his efforts. His fingers brushed against a sharp pebble between the rails. He tensed his muscles, grabbed it as best he could and, contorting his wrist, began scraping it against the cable, hoping to wear it down. Too solid. It wasn’t working.

Suddenly, a ringtone startled him and he nearly dropped the stone. His phone. It was vibrating in his trouser pocket. But tied up as he was, there was no way he could pick it up. He tried to shift his leg, hoping the phone would slide out of his pocket. Nothing. After a few rings, the voicemail answered, followed by a beep.

— "Hey Angel," said Wesley’s voice. "Good news! We may have a lead on your medallion and the symbols. Call me back when you get a chance! Take care, both of you!"

Wesley hung up right after leaving his brief message, and silence returned. Angel rolled his eyes and swore again. A lead that would be useless if he died here in 40 minutes. Well… closer to 35 now…

Focusing again, he glanced at his pocket.

Okay… If the phone wouldn’t fall out, he’d have to help it a little.

Gripping the sharp stone more tightly, he began cutting into the fabric of his pocket. If it worked, the phone would slide out…

---

11:25 PM

Lindsey was almost at his destination, but it was still pitch black outside. Only the soft rumble of the train and the screeching of metal against rails broke the silence.

Abruptly, a sound shattered the monotony of the journey and Lindsey jumped. He hadn’t heard his phone ring in a long time. Who could be calling him? Most people knew he couldn’t talk anymore and had to text.

He grabbed his phone and looked at the screen. Angel. He answered at once, and Angel’s voice echoed in the wagon.

— "Lindsey, sweetheart, are you okay?" the vampire asked immediately, then added, "One knock for yes, two for no."

Lindsey sighed, relieved to hear his husband’s voice, and knocked once on the seat in front of him.

— "Thank God!" Angel replied, clearly relieved too. Then, with an unusual hesitation, he continued. "Listen, I’m… uh… in a delicate situation…"

Lindsey frowned. Angel wasn’t the type to downplay problems.

In a few words, the vampire explained that he was tied to the tracks and that the cable was too solid for him to break free. He’d barely managed to grab his phone and dial the number correctly…

As the explanation went on, Lindsey’s eyes widened, his fingers tightening around his phone. ‘A delicate situation’ was an understatement. He opened his mouth out of habit, then closed it, frustrated by his handicap. He could only answer Angel with knocks for yes or no, and that was maddening.

— "Do you think you can stop the train?" Angel finally asked.

Taken aback by the request, Lindsey hesitated. Stop a train? He had no idea… How many knocks for ‘maybe’?

— "You’d have to stop it say around 11:50 or 11:55… That way, you’d be on your way back and close to here… Do you think it’s possible?"

Lindsey stared at the seat in front of him, his mind racing. How the hell was he supposed to stop a train? But he didn’t have time to overthink it: the train was slowing down. They were arriving. Resolute, he knocked once: yes.

He had no choice anyway.

The train came to a halt with a metallic screech. 11:28 PM, right on time. A whistle blew. Through the window, Lindsey could now see ghostly lights. Specters. Dozens of them. Hundreds, perhaps. All surrounded by the same glowing aura as Pool. Speaking of which, Pool reappeared in the carriage.

— "We’ve arrived," he said simply, pointing to the door.

Lindsey shook his head. No way he was stepping off into a place full of ghosts when he’d just nearly gotten wrecked by one.

Pool frowned at Lindsey’s refusal. He stared at him for a full minute. Facing him, Lindsey did his best not to move, feeling like he was playing one of those games where blinking meant losing.

Finally, Pool shrugged and turned away. With mechanical precision, he stepped off the train.

A chill ran down Lindsey’s spine. What if Pool was going to get reinforcements? What if some specters were about to board the train?

Lindsey pressed his face to the window to see what was going on outside.

Eventually, another whistle blew and the doors slammed shut. Relieved, Lindsey let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. No ghosts had boarded the train. Well, except for Pool of course, who had resumed his role as controller and was heading for the locomotive again.

Now, it was time to think of a plan to stop this train. Grabbing his phone, Lindsey was suddenly glad he’d recently bought a model that could connect to the internet via Wi-Fi. All he had to do was pray that the Internet could tell him how to stop a 1920s train…

But his hope was short-lived: he couldn’t connect. Of course. Not much Wi-Fi in ghostland.
Lindsey tried something else. If Angel had managed to call him, the phone signal must still be working. He immediately sent a message, brief but clear:

Connor, I need you to tell me how to stop a train from the 1920s. You’ve got 15 minutes!

He prayed it would be seen quickly and began thinking of a plan. Even if Connor told him how to activate the brakes, he still had to access the driver’s seat. And Pool would certainly not agree to just let him waltz in.

His thoughts were interrupted by a beep. Connor’s reply. Also brief:

A lever with an air pressure gauge. Are you okay, Lindsey???

Being too stressed, Lindsey didn’t take the time to respond. He forced himself to calm down, taking deep breaths. He needed to be fast. He reviewed the plan in his head, trying to visualize:

1. Get past Pool.
2. Spot the lever as fast as possible and pull it.
3. Hold on until the train slows then jump off.
4. Run along the tracks to find Angel, hoping he won’t be dozens of miles away.
5. Find a way to untie Angel.

This plan had a thousand ways to fail… most of them involving Pool killing him at any step.

But Lindsey had no better idea anyway. He checked his watch. 11:45 PM. If he remembered correctly, a full-speed train needed 1 to 2 minutes to come to a stop, right?

Damn, he should’ve become an engineer, not a lawyer… Still, better to give it more time than too little.

At 11:48 PM, Lindsey got up. As quietly as possible, he crossed the carriage and headed for the driver’s cab. Through the small window, he saw Pool staring out at the passing landscape. Lindsey tried to locate the brake lever. There! A long metal handle with a gauge next to it, just as Connor had described. It had to be it.

Lindsey focused and took out his pocketknife. Then he opened the door and lunged for the lever. Speed was his only advantage: if he couldn’t take Pool by surprise, he wouldn’t stand a chance of pulling the brakes.

But luck definitely wasn’t on Lindsey’s side this night. The moment he opened the door, Pool turned around, and immediately blocked access to the controls.

Lindsey cursed silently and, with a flick of his wrist, extended his knife into a sword. His element of surprise lost, he was going to have to fight. Or at least distract Pool long enough to reach for the lever.

The fight broke out. But Lindsey quickly grew disheartened. Once again, none of his strikes landed effectively. Even when they hit, it was like trying to break down a steel door with a stick… He was never going to make it to the lever in time…

Panic began to rise in his chest. If he had counted correctly, there were barely ten minutes left before the train would reach Angel. Or eight… he wasn’t sure now…

Suddenly, a glimmer caught Lindsey’s eye: the medallion! Pool was wearing it around his neck. Instantly, a new plan formed in Lindsey’s mind.

With a powerful wide swing, he smashed the outside window, sending shards flying everywhere. Wind immediately rushed into the cab. Taking advantage of Pool’s surprise, Lindsey leaned in, snatched the medallion, and threw it through the opening.

Time seemed to freeze for a moment. Then Pool let out a roar of rage and lunged for the brake lever himself.

Proud that his improvised plan had worked, Lindsey took a defensive stance. Now he just had to hold out until the train stopped.

He expected a tough fight, but none came. The specter stood completely frozen, staring at the spot where the medallion had disappeared. And as soon as the train had slowed enough, he jumped through the shattered window and ran back along the tracks in search of it.

Lindsey let out a sigh of relief. Which lasted exactly one second before he looked at his watch. 11:57 PM.

And the train still hadn’t stopped.

Relief gave way to a wave of panic. Now alone in the driver’s cab, Lindsey yanked on the brake lever again, as if that could slow the train further. A gesture as desperate as it was useless. Outside, the tunnel landscape was still passing by far too quickly. Angel was somewhere out there on those tracks... In the space of a few seconds, a dozen scenarios flashed through Lindsey’s mind.

A few moments later, the train came to a halt, and midnight struck. Lindsey’s heart skipped a beat. He took a deep breath. If Angel didn’t survive, he would find a way to bring him back. After all, Wolfram & Hart had managed to resurrect Darla, hadn’t they? There had to be a way...

Trembling, he stepped off the train, hardly daring to look.

— "Lindsey!" called a relieved voice.

A deep sigh escaped Lindsey’s lips. Angel was alive (so to speak, of course).

The train’s headlights were still on, and Lindsey, dazzled, took a few instants to reach his husband.

"You’re alive!" he signed before leaning down to kiss him.

— "Yeah… but still stuck…" murmured Angel once Lindsey finally let him go. "You okay?"

To Angel’s relief, Lindsey nodded and began pulling at his restraints.

— "Wait," the vampire interrupted. "Grab the pickaxe we left near the collapse and destroy the train’s control panel. I’d rather not risk one of our spectral friends getting the idea to restart it…"

No sooner said than done. A few minutes later, Lindsey returned to Angel’s side. But a sound behind him made him turn around.

Pool.

He had obviously recovered the medallion and now seemed determined to make the culprit pay. Lindsey paled. He knew he was outmatched.

Nevertheless, he raised his sword. He wouldn’t die without a fight.

Behind him, Angel pulled at his restraints, frustrated to see his husband forced to fight while he remained helpless… He endeavored to stay silent, to avoid distracting Lindsey.

The fight was short. Lindsey had been right. He was no match. After managing to block a few blows, Pool tore a metal bar from the wreckage. Now armed, his strikes felt ten times heavier. Or at least, that’s how they felt to Lindsey. He blocked the first, then the second. Dodged the third. Not the fourth. The blow hit him right in the temple. Hard. Lindsey collapsed.

— "Lindsey!!!" Angel screamed.

The vampire pulled again at his bonds, in vain. Helpless, he could only watch as Pool approached and lifted Lindsey.

— "Get away from him!" the vampire yelled. "Get away from him!"

With a vengeful grin, Pool dropped Lindsey carelessly onto the tracks beside Angel, then began searching for something to tie him down.

— "Lindsey! Lindsey!" Angel called out immediately, trying to wake him.

But it was no use. A trickle of blood ran down Lindsey’s temple, a testament to the violence of the blow. It would take time for him to come to… if he came to… Angel closed his eyes in despair. Lindsey’s heart was beating, he was sure of it.

Moments later, Pool returned. He had found the rope Lindsey himself had brought and started tying him to the tracks, tightening the knots with supernatural strength.

— "You’re going to pay…" the specter muttered, stroking the medallion with near-feverish obsession. "I almost lost it, I almost lost it because of you!"

His tone cracked on the last words, laced with seething fury. His lips curled into a vicious sneer as he clutched the medallion tighter, his knuckles turning white from the pressure.

— "But you got it back!" Angel tried, his tone pleading. "Come on, untie us!"

Pool gave the vampire a murderous glare, his eyes darkening. His expression froze into a cold mask, a shadow crossing his face.

— "You also damaged my train. That’s unforgivable…" he growled in a low voice.

His gaze shifted to the destruction inflicted on the machine, his jaw clenched with restrained rage.

— "I’ll fix it. And it will avenge me," he concluded, a satisfied smile slowly spreading across his face.

Angel cursed. Reasoning with him was clearly hopeless. Once again, he pulled at his restraints. Still in vain.

---

Still lying on the tracks, Angel had long since stopped fighting his bonds. However, he never took his eyes off Lindsey, listening to the sound of his heartbeat. He followed the slow rise and fall of his chest, searching for any sign that he was okay, that he was about to wake up.

After an eternity, Lindsey moved slightly. A moment later, he opened his eyes with difficulty… then shut them again immediately. Everything was spinning. His head throbbed violently, a dull pain radiating from his temple.

He heard a distant murmur beside him.

Someone was calling him. A low, worried voice.

— "Lindsey… Hey, Lin, honey, look at me."

Lindsey tried to concentrate. He fluttered his eyelids, attempting to clear the fog from his eyes, but everything was blurry. Slowly, he turned his head. Diffuse lights shimmered in his vision. Eventually, a shape emerged from the haze.

Angel.

Despite the tension still lingering in his eyes, the vampire’s relief was palpable when he finally met Lindsey’s gaze.

— "Damn, you scared me," he murmured. "You’ve been unconscious for hours…"

— "Are you okay?" he added gently, in a soothing voice.

Lindsey attempted to gather his thoughts, but everything was too slow, too confused. A dull buzzing filled his skull, making it hard to focus. He tried to move his hands to answer… Impossible. He realized he was tied to the tracks.

Angel gave him a soft look.

— "Easy, take your time. You took a violent blow."

Lindsey gave a vague nod. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. The pain was slowly bringing him back to reality. Then the last events came back. The train, the fight with the specter, the blow to the head.

A few instants later, he nodded more firmly in Angel’s direction. The situation seemed a little clearer now. Certainly not good, but at least he knew where he was.

Angel smiled at seeing his husband regaining focus. He gave him a few more minutes before filling him in.

— "Well, the good news is neither of us got run over by a train." He paused before adding with a crooked smile, "But next time, try to stop it a few meters earlier if you don’t mind, okay?"

A small smile flickered on Lindsey’s lips, quickly turning into a groan. His head was killing him. He closed his eyes once more, and took another deep breath.

Angel watched his expression, gauging his condition before continuing. It was only when Lindsey reopened his eyes and nodded again that he went on.

— "I tried to call Wesley, but our ghostly friend smashed my phone. Yours too… But he’s been like this for over an hour," he explained, pointing with his chin.

Lindsey followed his gaze.

Next to the train, Pool was curled up on himself, clutching the medallion in his hands, his chest heaving with jerky motions. He was muttering indistinct words, rocking back and forth.  A little farther away, the two other specters from earlier were in the same state.

— "They can’t fix the train. You did a hell of a lot of damage," Angel said proudly.

Lindsey smiled. So did Angel. He was relieved: his husband seemed to be doing better.

The vampire shifted slightly, then, with a flick of his wrist, tossed something toward Lindsey.

The little stone.

— "Try to cut the rope," the vampire whispered.

Lindsey caught the stone with his fingertips. Trying to concentrate, he began to rub it against the rope. But his hand was still trembling. He clenched his jaw. The minutes dragged on.

Lindsey winced as he felt the stone slip off the rope for the umpteenth time, scraping his skin. His wrist was slick with blood now. But he had no choice. Gritting his teeth, he kept going, ignoring the pain. The rope was fraying little by little, fibers giving way under the repeated friction.

Then finally, a tiny snap, barely audible.

The last fibers had snapped. His wrist dropped, freed. With a trembling sigh, Lindsey let the pebble fall. His arm was stiff, and he slowly flexed and unflexed his fingers, waking up his unresponsive muscles.

He used his freed hand to work on the other restraints. His movements were clumsy, his coordination hampered by pain and numbness, but eventually he managed to get rid of the last bindings. Taking a deep breath, he attempted to straighten up. But the moment he lifted his head, a brutal dizziness hit him.

He lay back down immediately, pressing one hand over his forehead, trying to make the sensation pass.

Angel had followed his every move, his gaze fixed on him.

— "Take your time," he said softly. "The train’s not going anywhere and the specters don’t seem to want to move."

Lindsey nodded, squeezing his eyes shut to stop the world from spinning and inhaling slowly. He brought a hesitant hand to his temple. Under his fingers, he felt blood, half-dried and sticky against his skin.

After a few instants, Lindsey finally turned toward Angel, got on all fours, and crawled over to him. Straightening up completely wasn’t an option, not yet. Crouching beside his husband, he reached out to untie him.

But it wasn’t rope this time. It was a metal cable, solid and knotted with a strength that even a vampire couldn’t break.

Lindsey spent several minutes trying to undo it, pulling with all the strength he could muster. But the bindings were too tight, impossible to loosen. After several failed attempts, he let his hands fall, desperate and powerless. He was getting nowhere.

Angel looked at him with a hint of concern.

— "I think you’re gonna need a pair of wire cutters."

Lindsey nodded and looked around. There was nothing but rubble… His eyes landed on the service door they had used to enter the tunnel.

He quickly checked if the specters were still lamenting over the train, then planted his fist on the ground and used it as leverage to get to his feet. Bad idea. After a few steps, another wave of dizziness struck. He staggered, barely regaining his balance by leaning against the tunnel wall.

"I’ll check outside, be right back," he signed once he had steadied himself, his gestures still a bit shaky.

Angel clenched his jaw, eyes locked on him in the glow of the locomotive’s headlights.

— "Okay, just… be careful…"

His tone was calm, but the tension in it was obvious. Lindsey clearly had a concussion. Angel watched him as he stumbled toward the door.

— "Uh… Lindsey…" he called out hesitantly as he was nearly at the door.

Lindsey turned to him, questioning.

— "I know you’re doing what you can, but…" Angel went on. "If my watch is right, the sun’s gonna rise in about half an hour, and…"

He paused and his eyes drifted up the tunnel.

Lindsey followed his gaze.

Above them, the ventilation shaft was letting in the early morning sounds of a city slowly waking.

What had seemed like a potential exit the night before had just turned into a threat.

Chapter Text

Lindsey was running—or at least trying to. His heart was pounding wildly, and it felt like his head might explode any second. As he reached an alley, he staggered again, a wave of dizziness making him stumble. Not now. He didn’t have time for this.

Gritting his teeth, he leaned against a wall for a moment to regain some semblance of balance. But every second counted. He forced his body to move forward, counting on adrenaline to keep him going.

Above him, the sky was already growing lighter. And he knew Angel was still down there, helpless, vulnerable. For once, his husband was the one who needed help, not the other way around.

Damn it, Lindsey swore inwardly.

He quickly scanned the street. No one would open their door at such an early hour. But when they’d arrived, they had passed a small shop a bit further down the road, if he remembered right. It was his only chance. He reached a crossroads and hesitated. Right? Left? His memories were playing tricks on him. Frustrated, he cursed his head, which wouldn’t stop spinning and prevented him from focusing.

Left, he decided.

He glanced at his watch: 6:30. His stomach tightened.

His muscles protested as he tried to pick up the pace. He ran at an angle, his shaky balance distorting his trajectory. With each step, his temples pounded painfully, but he pushed on. Angel was counting on him. Giving up was unthinkable.

There! The shop sign! Just a few more meters… A bloody marathon in his condition. Inwardly, Lindsey prayed that the shop was already open.

---

Still lying on the tracks, Angel waited anxiously, eyes fixed on the service door, praying to see Lindsey return at any moment. There was nothing he could do but wait. Pulling at his bindings was pointless—he’d tried all night. Frustration was at its peak. He wasn’t used to feeling this vulnerable, or to having to rely on someone else…

The sun had risen by now. Angel could see the light filtering through the ventilation grate. Luckily, it hadn’t reached him yet… But it would be, any minute.

Finally, a noise interrupted his contemplation of the golden square that was inexorably advancing toward him.

The door burst open. Lindsey was back.

— "Lin! Are you okay?" Angel asked immediately.

Lindsey nodded, breathless. He looked exhausted but didn’t waste a second. He dropped to his knees beside Angel, a small, slightly rusted wire cutter in hand. It was all the shop owner could find for him in a hurry.

With a trembling hand, Lindsey tried to cut the wire, but the pliers slipped on the metal without even leaving a mark. He gritted his teeth and made another attempt, tensing his muscles. In vain. His run had left him drained and he felt like he had absolutely no strength left.

He glanced at the grate. The sunlight was creeping closer. Too fast. Now, Angel had to tilt his head to avoid being hit by the rays. In a protective gesture, Lindsey shifted his body to block the light, shielding Angel as he tried again. And failed once more. He swore inwardly, panic starting to rise. But now was not the time to lose control.

Even without turning his head, Angel had sensed Lindsey’s tension.

— "Stay calm," he murmured, praying his words wouldn’t have the opposite effect. "Just focus. You’ve got this."

Lindsey nodded. He took several deep breaths and concentrated. Changing the angle slightly, he wedged the wire deep between the cutter’s jaws and squeezed, using everything he had.

A soft click sounded, and finally the wire gave way.

Lindsey let out a sigh of relief.

Angel didn’t waste a second. He freed his wrist, snatched the pliers, and immediately started working on the rest, taking advantage of the fact that Lindsey was still shielding him from the sunlight.

A second later, completely free, Angel was at last able to retreat into the shadows, away from the square of light.

Exhausted, Lindsey stumbled the few steps toward him and dropped to the ground with a deep sigh.

— "You were perfect, my love…" Angel murmured, wrapping him gently in his arms.

But Lindsey didn’t hear him. Angel smiled and placed a kiss on his hair, tightening his protective embrace. He wouldn’t wake him. In any case, they were going to have to stay there all day, until nightfall…

---

When he finally woke much later, Lindsey immediately recognized the artificial light and sterile smell of a hospital.

Again, he cursed inwardly, blinking away the grogginess of waking.

At his side, Angel seemed to know exactly what was going through his husband’s mind.

— "Don’t worry," he said with a smile, relieved to see Lindsey well enough to grumble. "The test results are good. Just a minor concussion, you’ll be out tonight."

Lindsey smiled at the sight of him. Thanks for the curtains this time. The room was a significant improvement over the last one too, with a small en-suite bathroom.

He sat up against the pillows as Angel joined him at the edge of the bed. He must have slept a lot, or been on a ton of meds, because he actually felt… pretty okay. Able to think clearly, at least. Just some aches and bruises. And a little headache that should go away with the acetaminophen he spotted on the bedside table.

Angel had followed his gaze and immediately handed him a tablet along with a large glass of water.

— "The doctor said you need to drink a lot," he added.

Lindsey nodded and swallowed the pill.

"The specters?" he inquired with a gesture once he had finished the glass.

— "They disappeared as soon as the sun came up…" Angel explained. "The train too…"

Lindsey frowned. Come to think of it, he didn’t remember seeing them when he had returned with the pliers.

"Weird…" he signed, thoughtful. "Maybe they only appear at night…"

— "Yeah, probably…" Angel agreed.

Lindsey thought for a moment, then signed: "Shall we go back there?"

Angel hesitated, a flicker of caution in his eyes.

— " I don’t know what you think, but Pool didn’t exactly look like he wants to share any key to becoming human again… if he even has one… So it might not be worth risking our lives going back there…" he said.

Lindsey nodded in agreement but frowned a little as he caught a note of disappointment in Angel’s voice.

— "I also spoke with an old man in the hallway while you were getting a scan," the vampire went on. "He told me about the tunnel collapse. From what I gathered, four people died, and two of the bodies were never found: a worker and a firefighter."

Lindsey’s eyes widened, immediately remembering the specters they’d faced.

"So… Casual victims? No ‘human vampire’ or anything?" he asked with a soft look.

Angel shook his head.

— "Don’t think so…" he replied with a shrug, trying to stay positive. "The good news is, Wesley found something. I was just waiting for a decent hour to call him."

He gestured to Lindsey’s laptop, which he’d brought from their hotel room. Until they could get new phones, it was their only way to stay in touch with the team…

Moments later, Sienna and Wesley’s faces appeared on the screen, worried to see their friends in a hospital room.

— "Everything’s fine," Angel reassured them right away. "Just a minor concussion and a few bruises. No one got run over by a train!"

Lindsey gave a thumbs-up to confirm and the vampire briefly recounted their adventure in the tunnel.

— "You said you had info on the medallion, Wes?" he then asked, getting straight to the point.

— "Yes, you were right to notice the resemblance to Spike’s medallion. And what happened to you pretty much validates it," Wesley explained. "According to our research, it allows those who wear it to become a kind of specters after death, leaving their bodies intact, which explains the skeleton you found in the mausoleum. After that, they usually consider the medallion to be very precious…"

"We saw that…" Lindsey signed.

— "However, there’s an important difference from Spike’s medallion," Sienna went on. "Here, we’re dealing with specters, which means they can interact with the physical world, our world, unlike ghosts, which are purely immaterial. In any case, I don’t think it could make you human, Angel… I’m sorry… At best, it would turn you into a specter…"

Angel frowned in disappointment. Once again, their lead had turned out to be a dead end…

Seeing his husband’s expression, Lindsey rested a reassuring hand on his arm.

— "You also said you found something about the symbols we saw on the stele, Wesley?" Angel asked, squeezing Lindsey’s hand, comforted by his presence.

— "Yes, Sienna and I think it’s a very ancient language. We only found derivatives in Wolfram & Hart’s translation books. Probably because they were more focused on communicating with clients, so dead languages, even demonic ones, didn’t interest them much… Anyway, after cross-referencing everything, we believe these symbols are close to the origin of demonic language itself."

— "The origin of demonic language?" Angel repeated.

— "Yes, and that is really an incredible discovery!" Wesley exclaimed, practically bouncing as if he had spotted a new planet.

— "Anyway, I contacted Giles…" he continued, his voice a little high-pitched with excitement, "…and it turns out that over the past two years, he’s built an enormous library of rare books from the Council and…"

— "And he’ll be able to translate the symbols better than we can," Sienna cut in, seeing Wesley was launching into one of his unhelpful explanations. "We already sent him a copy, but we think it’ll be easier if you go there in person."

Angel nodded. He had already planned to go to Europe anyway. Beside him, Lindsey’s eyes widened. He had never had the chance to leave the continent. Curiosity took over.

"When do we leave?" he signed, eyes bright with anticipation.

Angel looked at him, knowing his husband would take it very hard if he forced him to rest again.

— "When you’ve swapped those pretty floral pajamas for something more practical, sweetheart," he teased gently.

Lindsey looked down and blushed. With a quick motion, he grabbed the bag at the edge of the bed, pulled out some normal clothes, and hobbled off to the small adjoining bathroom.

Angel watched him go and smiled. Lindsey seemed able to stand without too much trouble, despite some stiffness in his muscles.

Left alone with Sienna and Wesley, Angel suddenly felt a lassitude come over him, and the conversation took a more personal turn.

— "Why is it always him who ends up hurt, and not me?" the vampire murmured.

— "Well… you’re a vampire, he’s human… I guess he’s just more fragile than you…" Sienna answered softly, stating the obvious.

As only answer, Angel simply shook his head, looking slightly exasperated. He remembered the desperate look on Lindsey’s face when he’d woken up. The vampire, too, was tired of seeing him in a hospital room.

On the screen, Wesley gave a small smile.

— "Just think… You were nearly run over by a ghost train and burned alive, if I understood correctly. Compared to a concussion and a few bruises… I think you won this time…" he teased gently, trying to lighten the mood. "Besides, in a few months, you might be human and stuck in bed with the flu…"

Angel smiled faintly. After thanking his friends, he ended the video call and went to check if Lindsey needed any help.

---

In the small bathroom, Lindsey had decided a hot bath would do him good. Half-submerged in the water, he smiled as Angel entered. Raising a tempting eyebrow, he pulled one leg out of the tub and gave a provocative little wiggle of his foot that left no doubt about what he had in mind.

Angel chuckled, amused. And mostly relieved to see that his husband seemed okay despite the bruises covering his body.

Lindsey ran a wet hand over his own chest. "You’re just going to stand there and watch?" he seemed to ask with a glance.

Angel bit the inside of his cheek, weighing his options… But Lindsey was so tempting like that, half submerged, surrounded by the scent of soap. The vampire shook his head, theatrically exaggerating his resignation.

— "I guess someone has to make sure you don’t slip and drown," he said, unbuttoning his shirt with a feigned indifference.

Lindsey’s gaze followed every movement, growing brighter as Angel stripped off his clothes. Finally, the vampire stepped into the tub, settling in behind Lindsey, who immediately leaned back against Angel’s chest.

The bathtub was large. Large enough for nurses to wash patients comfortably. Large enough for two grown men…

For a long moment, they simply lay like that, enjoying the feel of their skin against each other in the hot water, relaxing their muscles.

But the tranquility didn’t last.

In the most discreet motion possible, Lindsey slid his hands under the water where Angel couldn’t see them. He quickly found the vampire’s legs and traced his way slowly up to his thighs.

Angel smiled and let his head fall back against the edge of the tub. He already knew how this was going to end. After a few moments enjoying Lindsey’s caresses on his legs, Angel straightened up and let his own hands drift over his husband’s body, gently. Bruises marked his skin, a testament to the violence of his fight with the specters.

Lindsey smiled in turn. He closed his eyes and sighed, enjoying Angel’s hands too, as they slid softly over his stomach. Then lower, just enough to provoke a reaction without actually touching him yet. Lindsey arched his hips slightly in response, instinctively seeking more contact.

Angel smirked, amused by the silent impatience. He leaned in, lips brushing the hollow of Lindsey’s shoulder. He placed a gentle kiss then slowly trailed up his neck and gave a playful nibble. Under the water, his hand slid along Lindsey’s inner thigh, inching higher, savoring every shiver.

Lindsey barely opened his eyes and grabbed one of Angel’s wrists, guiding him silently toward where he wanted him.

But Angel, teasing, decided he had other plans. Using his vampiric abilities, he quickly shifted their positions, placing them face to face. Lindsey froze for a second, startled by the sudden movement, then instinctively reached for Angel’s cock, now directly in front of him.

— "Stay still for a minute!" the vampire immediately exclaimed, catching his hand before it could find its goal. "And let me take care of you…"

And with a smooth motion, he dipped his head under the water.

One second later, Lindsey felt Angel’s mouth close around his cock, and his hands instinctively gripped the edge of the tub. A shiver ran down his spine and he spread his legs underwater.

Freed from any human need to breathe, the vampire lingered as long as he liked, switching between deep suction and playful strokes of his tongue. Lindsey tilted his head back, his breathing quickening.

Underwater, Angel intensified his movements and Lindsey felt the pressure building inside him, every nerve alight under his husband’s skilled attention.

One hand released the edge of the tub to slide into Angel’s dark hair, gripping the wet strands with silent urgency.

When the vampire tightened his mouth with a stronger suction, it was the drop too much. Lindsey tensed, nearly slipping beneath the surface as his orgasm tore through him.

Angel lingered underwater the whole time, savoring Lindsey’s taste on his tongue and his every spasm before surfacing. His dark eyes met Lindsey’s, whose cheeks were flushed with heat and arousal. Angel just smiled, water streaming down his face.

— "Mmmh… We should take baths more often instead of showers," he murmured, his voice hoarse and satisfied.

Still trembling, Lindsey could only nod before pulling Angel in for a long kiss. When they broke apart, he wore a mischievous smile and his hand almost immediately found its way to Angel’s crotch.

The vampire let out a low growl. He hadn’t planned on any return favors this time, especially since Lindsey was injured. He had just wanted to give. But his husband’s loving blue eyes made him completely melt, and pleasure grew as Lindsey stroked him under the water.

Lindsey’s fingers were sliding over him, slow and exploring, tracing invisible patterns along his cold skin warmed by the bath. There was no rush, only a tenderness that contrasted with the intensity in his gaze. Then he leaned up slightly to kiss Angel. It was a delicate kiss, a mirrored caress of his hand underwater.

— "You’re amazing…" Angel whispered against his lips, savoring the sweetness of the moment.

Lindsey smiled and his mouth brushed along his husband’s throat, slowly moving down to his chest, placing soft kisses on his damp skin.

The vampire let his head fall back, relishing every caress. It was a sensual dance, a moment of pure connection between them.

When Angel’s pleasure reached its peak, it was almost in silence, his body tensing slightly as release took hold of him, triggered by this simple combination of tender gestures and intense glances.

Satisfied, Lindsey smiled, feeling every quiver, every pulse beneath his palm. He didn’t let go until the very end, finally resting his forehead against Angel’s.

One more endless kiss later, the vampire reversed their positions again, taking back his place behind Lindsey, who leaned peacefully against his chest.

Angel gently stroked his shoulders, tracing invisible patterns on his wet skin.

— "You okay?" he asked softly against his hair.

Lindsey raised his head slightly, eyes still sparkling from the tender moment they had just shared. He gave a small nod before grabbing his husband’s wrist and bringing his hand to his lips, pressing a silent kiss there.

Angel smiled, tightening his arm around him just a little more.

— "I love you too," he murmured tenderly before kissing Lindsey on the temple, avoiding the injured side where a small bump had formed.

Lindsey answered with a knowing look before snuggling closer against him, just enjoying the contact between their skin. The bath water was now lukewarm but that didn’t matter. Nothing did, except this moment, suspended between passion and gentleness.

They remained like that a little while longer, savoring the quietude of their timeless bubble, until Angel straightened slightly.

— "Come on, we should get out and clean up before someone comes in to see why you’ve been in this bathroom for so long without a nurse…" he murmured, amused.

Chapter Text

The next day, back in their hotel room, Angel and Lindsey were going over the technical details of their trip. Even though the decision to leave for Europe had been made fairly quickly, Angel had still taken the time to call Giles to organize things. And in doing so, he had found out that Buffy and the gang were currently busy… with a rather serious issue involving toe-eating demons. When Angel had told Lindsey, the man had given him a look of utter disbelief before silently cracking up, clutching his stomach and nearly falling off the bed.

"Toe-eating demons?? Toe-eating demons??" he had signed a couple of times, unable to regain his seriousness.

Trying to stay focused on their actual goal, Angel had quickly adjusted the plan. He didn’t want to interfere with the Slayer’s mission, and a slight detour seemed wiser, at least until those toe-loving demons had been dealt with. So instead of going straight to Italy, where Buffy and her friends had set up their HQ, they would first make a short stop in Romania.

And ever since that decision, Lindsey had been wildly excited. Back when he worked at Wolfram & Hart, Dracula’s name had of course come up more than once: sometimes just as jokes between colleagues, but also in more serious contexts. That vampire was still shrouded in mystery, and Lindsey fully intended to unravel it.

Angel, for his part, was more reserved. He knew Dracula by reputation. The legend that surrounded him too, of course. And even if movies and pop culture had alternately painted a flattering or demonic picture of the Count, Angel was convinced there was a grain of truth behind it all. In any case, this vampire was known and, more importantly, he had connections. That was what Angel was counting on. If anyone could offer him a lead he hadn’t thought of, it was Dracula.

Although the decision to go to Romania was made, logistics were more problematic. Wolfram & Hart’s jet wasn’t available at the moment, and traveling ‘normally’ seemed out of the question: given the distance between the U.S. and Europe, all flights included daytime segments, which could be fatal for a vampire.

— "Maybe I could travel in the cargo hold?" Angel proposed, lying on the bed with his arms folded behind his head.

Lindsey, typing on his laptop, pouted… The cargo hold sounded like a risky plan.

"What if an employee finds you? Or if the baggage is loaded or unloaded during the day? I’ll only have ashes to bring back home…" he signed skeptically.

— "We could do something more traditional: a coffin," the vampire then suggested with a playful look. "They won’t open it. And even if they do, I don’t breathe: they’ll think I’m really a dead body. And it sets the perfect atmosphere before going to meet Dracula."

Lindsey couldn’t help but smile.

"If someone opens the coffin or lets in even a little bit of light, same thing: I’ll be bringing home a nice urn to decorate the living room…" he replied, angling the laptop toward Angel.

Displayed on the screen was a selection of funeral urns.

"Just in case… Which one do you prefer?" Lindsey teased.

Angel let out a soft chuckle and pointed to the second one.

— "The black one. Always the black one," he joked. "It brings out my complexion…"

"What complexion? You’ll be ashes!" Lindsey signed with a smirk.

Angel rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Let’s find a plan that doesn’t turn you into a barbecue, okay?" added Lindsey. "I prefer you in three dimensions rather than as powder."

Angel nodded, regaining his seriousness. The logistics were going to be more complicated than expected…

They remained silent for a while, each pondering the best solution. It was Angel who finally spoke again. His mind had wandered a bit, and his voice turned curious.

— "Hey… speaking of travel… that train… where did it take you?" he asked, as if the thought had just occurred to him.

Lindsey looked up from his laptop, surprised by the unexpected question.

"Some kind of specters convention…" he gestured. "Dozens, maybe hundreds of them…"

— "Hundreds?" Angel repeated, surprised.

Lindsey confirmed with a nod.

"Needless to say, I stayed safely inside the train... I could barely handle one of them…"

Angel nodded slowly, thoughtful. The train was well and truly out of service now – Lindsey had made sure of that with the pickaxe. So they probably would never get an answer to that question…

---

A few days later, at Washington Airport, Lindsey clutched the handles of two heavy suitcases he was dragging behind him. His guitar was slung over his shoulder, and an overloaded backpack made him feel like he was carrying a hundred kilos.

With effort, he finally reached the check-in counter and dropped everything heavily on the floor, allowing himself a brief moment of respite before handing over his passport. The employee stared at him, momentarily perplexed by the amount of luggage for a single passenger, but she settled for a polite smile. And despite the difficulty of communicating without being able to speak, Lindsey completed the check-in process without issue, and the luggage was registered.

Relieved, he was left with only his backpack and his guitar. Next step: security screening. He glanced up at the massive flight board above his head. 2:30 PM. Their flight was scheduled for 4:00 PM.

Walking with a lighter step now that he was less burdened, Lindsey headed toward the boarding gate. He preferred to be close to the plane as early as possible. Once he passed the necessary checks, he went to sit near the large glass windows overlooking the runways.

Outside, several planes were waiting on the tarmac. But not theirs. It was probably still in the hangar, for refueling or some other check.

Eventually, a plane rolled forward and came to a stop right in front of the boarding gate. Lindsey stared at it for several minutes, praying Angel had managed to sneak aboard as planned while it was in the hangar.

3:30 PM.

Following the line of passengers, Lindsey stepped through the gate and handed his boarding pass to the flight attendant, who directed him to his seat with a simple gesture. He sat down, on the aisle side. Gradually, the plane filled up. The sound of baggage compartments rattling, the voices of passengers looking for their seats—it all formed a cacophony that only heightened Lindsey’s anxiety. Finally, once everyone was seated, the plane moved slowly down the runway, preparing for takeoff. Lindsey clutched his fists. It wasn’t the fear of flying that knotted his stomach… it was not knowing for sure if Angel was aboard and intact.

Finally, his new phone beeped.

Well infiltrated! No sun here. You can come get me as soon as it’s dark.

Lindsey let out a long sigh of relief. He quickly replied to Angel, then finally relaxed in his seat.

Up front, a flight attendant began to explain the safety instructions, her gestures accompanied by a pre-recorded video.

— "Delta Airlines wishes you a pleasant journey," concluded the metallic voice.

Moments later, the plane took off.

Shortly after, the flight attendant spoke again, her tone calm:

— "On behalf of the crew, welcome aboard," she announced. "Throughout the flight, we’ll be here to assist you with anything you need. A meal will be served in about an hour. Unfortunately, due to a last-minute technical issue beyond our control, the rear lavatory will be inaccessible during this flight. We kindly ask that you use the front ones, and we apologize for the inconvenience."

Lindsey couldn’t help but smile. In a few hours, the rear lavatory door would certainly miraculously unlock.

---

In the confined space, Angel waited, trying not to make too much noise whenever he shifted awkwardly on the toilet lid. If anyone besides Lindsey found out he had traveled hidden in an airplane restroom… his dignity would take a serious hit.

Time passed with infernal slowness. Angel had stopped checking his watch after two hours, and boredom had set in. His only distraction was the noises he could hear from his hiding spot: the passengers’ conversations, the flight attendants going back and forth with their meal carts.

How much longer until sunset? Angel checked his watch despite his resolve not to: another full hour. Another hour in this flying sardine can. An hour during which he let his mind wander. First to their destination: Transylvania and Dracula. Angel hoped to find new leads there, but he didn’t have a precise plan beyond knocking on the Count’s door. Still, he knew one thing: he intended to go alone. He just didn’t know how to tell Lindsey… or how the latter would react. Angel shook his head, not sure he liked the scenarios playing out in his mind.

His thoughts naturally drifted to Lindsey. What was he doing right now? Something quiet, probably, since Angel could hear his heartbeat, steady. The vampire smiled, pleased to realize he could recognize him among all the passengers on the plane. Maybe Lindsey was composing? Or just watching the landscape go by…

Angel just wanted to go join him…

---

When the last ray of sunlight disappeared beyond the horizon, Lindsey stood up as naturally as possible. Trying not to draw attention, he made his way toward the back of the aircraft with measured steps. Reaching the bathroom door, he knocked twice, then once, then twice again: the signal he had agreed on with Angel.

Immediately, the vampire unlocked the door and squeezed out of the narrow compartment, rolling his shoulders to relax his stiff muscles after being cramped in such a small space for so long.

"Everything okay? Enjoying your trip?" Lindsey teased with a smirk.

Angel let out a soft laugh.

— "Perfectly," he replied, following Lindsey down the aisle. "That bathroom was luxurious! I especially loved the shoebox space. Five stars, I’d highly recommend it."

"Well, get ready, because my seatmate is incredibly annoying…" Lindsey signed with a nod toward their seats.

— "Really?" said Angel, arching an eyebrow. "Worse than spending hours with nothing but a toilet bowl for company?"

Lindsey nodded vigorously.

"Yes!" he signed exaggeratedly. "He’s already tried to kill me several times and even chopped off my hand!"

Angel stared at him for a moment, frozen in the middle of the aisle, trying to keep a straight face.

— "If you keep this nonsense, I’m going to toss you out of the plane!" he threatened with an amused smile. "Without a parachute. And I won’t even bother picking you up from the ground."

Lindsey laughed silently, and they both sat down, Angel receiving a puzzled look from the woman next to him, who seemed to wonder where this new seatmate had come from after being absent the entire first part of the flight. Playing the normality card, the vampire settled in as if he’d been there the whole time, casually observing the passengers around them.

Lindsey rested his head on his shoulder, and Angel, placing a hand on his husband’s thigh, was finally able to relax.

---

It was past 5 AM when the plane landed on the tarmac at Paris airport. The journey had gone smoothly, and the timing was perfect: the sun hadn’t yet risen.

As soon as the plane came to a halt, Angel and Lindsey followed the flow of passengers through the terminal. Once they had retrieved their luggage, they headed straight to the underground parking. They didn’t linger: they still had a good twenty hours’ drive before arriving in Transylvania.

At Gunn’s request, the French branch of Wolfram & Hart had provided them with a car that was waiting for them in the garage. Lindsey opened the passenger door and quickly checked the interior. Simple, functional, with windows specially treated to block out sunlight. He gave Angel a thumbs-up: everything was in order.

Without wasting time, they loaded their things. Lindsey settled behind the wheel, glanced at Angel, and started the engine.

---

The village where Angel and Lindsey stopped looked straight out of a postcard. Tourism had flourished around the famous Bran Castle, and signs advertised tours ‘in Dracula’s footsteps,’ while shops sold ‘vampiric souvenirs’ or local specialties like langos—garlic fritters supposed to repel vampires—which Lindsey already wanted to try. Just to test if they were really effective.

Their hotel, however, could not have been more normal. Only a sign at the end of the parking lot revealed where they were. It promised a most mysterious escapade: Official Tour in Count Dracula’s Footsteps! Visit his lair and survive the night!

Lindsey glanced at Angel, who was unloading what they needed before dawn.

"And to think their idol is actually real…" he signed before grabbing his guitar and a bag.

Angel chuckled.

— "If they knew, half of them would run away, and the other half would try to get bitten," the vampire remarked as he made his way to the hotel entrance.

The room was simple but spacious.

Angel dropped his bag on the bed and hesitated.

— "We need to talk," he announced.

Lindsey, who had just finished closing the curtains and was taking off his jacket, stopped short. He turned to Angel, eyebrows furrowed.

— "About the plan!" Angel clarified quickly.

Lindsey let out a small, relieved sigh. Angel had been quiet during most of the drive, and Lindsey hadn’t been able to stop himself from imagining things about the upcoming reunion with Buffy and her team.

Setting his jacket on the back of a chair, he joined Angel on the bed, where the vampire had unfolded a map.

— "The castle is here," Angel pointed out. "But Dracula doesn’t live there anymore: it’s gotten too touristy."

Lindsey nodded. The vibe in the village had been hard to miss: a mix of cultivated mystery and kitsch.

— "According to my information, though, he has several other properties in the area," the vampire continued, pointing them out one by one.

"Which one do we start with?" Lindsey asked.

Angel pointed to a few spots on the map, a little isolated but not too far from their hotel.

— "I think these are our best leads." He paused, hesitating. "But I’m going alone …"

Lindsey crossed his arms and stared at him with a mixture of disbelief and defiance. His look spoke for him. No way. Out of the question.

— "It’s not negotiable," Angel added firmly.

"Not negotiable? Since when am I supposed to shut up and follow your orders? You really think I’ll just stay here while you go meet the most famous vampire of all time?" Lindsey signed.

— "Lindsey, please… He’s dangerous and…" Angel began.

But Lindsey abruptly stood up and cut him off with a sharp gesture.

"No!" he signed, clearly upset. "I’m not staying behind! I’m not weak!"

— "I never said that, sweetheart," Angel protested gently, rising to his feet as well. He was doing his best to keep his voice calm, not wanting to escalate things. "But Dracula… He has certain abilities…"

Lindsey shook his head and clenched his jaw, feeling anger and frustration rising. It was at times like this that he most hated having lost his voice. He wanted to yell at Angel, to shout at him, but could only express his fury with sharp, jerky gestures.

"You promised we’d do this trip together! No way am I hiding in this hotel room like a coward!"

— "You’d be safe here! Whether you like it or not, you’re human! You’re more fragile than I am…" Angel began to snap.

"If you think humans are that fragile, maybe you should rethink whether you actually want to become one!" Lindsey shot back, eyes blazing.

Angel froze, a bit shocked. He sat back down on the edge of the bed he’d left when the discussion had escalated. He ran a hand over his face and took a few moments.

— "Listen, you’re the most precious thing in the world to me…" he murmured, raising his eyes to Lindsey, who stood fuming a few feet away. " With Giles, we’ve got a lead that might actually be serious, and I don’t want to lose you now… not just for some famous vampire who isn’t even that impressive! This has nothing to do with… with your abilities… I’d just rather know you’re safe here. I love you, Lindsey."

Lindsey sighed, feeling his anger ebbing away. Angel was breaking through to him with his loving words. A little calmer, he came to sit beside the vampire. Minutes passed.

"This is our first fight since we got married…" Lindsey finally pointed out.

— "Yeah…" Angel confirmed. "It had to happen sometime… Especially since we’ve been together 24 hours a day since the wedding. Back in L.A., we had work, Connor dropping by… It’s different here…"

They both fell silent, lost in thought for a moment.

Then Lindsey shook his head.

"I still don’t agree with staying behind…" he signed.

He was calm, but serious and determined. He glanced toward the window. Despite the curtains, he could see the sunlight shining outside now. Angel wouldn’t be able to go out until nightfall, which meant Lindsey had the whole day to change his mind. Or come up with a plan of his own, if need be…

Chapter Text

Angel was pacing in the hotel room, torn between anger and worry. It had been more than an hour since Lindsey had gone out to buy a sandwich and some blood from the butcher’s shop down the road. It was far too long for such a simple errand. Worst-case scenarios were running through Angel’s mind on repeat. But he knew where he was. Of course, Lindsey hadn’t been able to resist his curiosity...

The vampire glanced once more toward the window. The day was fading. In just a few minutes, he’d finally be able to go fetch his husband and drag him back to the hotel by his ass. And give him a piece of his mind about trust and lying in a relationship.

As soon as night fell, Angel stepped outside. The car was still parked in the lot. Lindsey had gone on foot. Angel quickly slid inside. Dracula’s hypothetical properties weren’t far, but he preferred to have a vehicle close by in case they needed to leave in a hurry. But as his hands landed on the steering wheel, he froze. A small paper bag with a butcher shop logo printed on the front sat on the passenger seat. Angel reached over and opened it. Blood. And a note.

The manor seems like the best lead. Meet you there.
Sorry and I love you ♥

Angel stared at the message for a brief moment, shaking his head, half exasperated, half amused. Lindsey drove him crazy.

---

A good ten minutes later, Angel parked the car in front of a massive estate. Though well-maintained, the place held an air of mystery, probably due to the ivy covering most of the façade.

The vampire took a moment to look around, trying to spot Lindsey. He wouldn’t actually go in without waiting for me… would he? he thought.

But Lindsey was nowhere to be seen. Not knowing what else to do, Angel knocked at the door. A young human woman, barely dressed, opened it. Without a word, she stepped aside to let him in.

— "I’m looking for my husband, Lindsey McDonald," Angel asked her without coming in. "Is he here?"

But all he got in return was a polite smile.

— "He has mid-length brown hair, blue eyes, and he’s about this tall…" he added, holding his hand at Lindsey’s approximate height.

Again, the young woman simply smiled. Then, with a gesture, she pointed toward a large door on the right which, judging by its craftsmanship, likely led to one of the estate’s most important rooms. Angel hesitated, but he didn’t really have a choice. He stepped into the mansion and pushed the indicated door open with his palm, ready to fight if needed.

The room looked like a ballroom from another era. On one side, a space had been cleared for dancers to try a waltz or a tango, perhaps. Three more young women were there, all dressed in equally provocative outfits. Two of them were dancing to the sound of slow, sensual music. The third, accompanied by a young man also lightly dressed, stood on the other side of the room, by a table filled with all kinds of victuals, wine carafes, and, of course, blood. They seemed to be in charge of service.

And at that table, a smiling Lindsey looked utterly captivated by Dracula, who was clearly in the middle of recounting his latest mysterious adventure. Between them, Lindsey’s little notebook, which they surely used to communicate.

Immediately, Angel approached, avoiding the dancers who were drifting a little too close for his liking.

— "What the hell are you doing?" he asked Lindsey, without even glancing at Dracula.

— "Good evening to you too, dear Angel," the Count chimed in. "Or should I say... Angelus?"

Angel ignored the interruption, his eyes locked on his husband.

"Relax, I’m fine," Lindsey signed with a beaming smile. "We were just talking about you."

Angel shook his head. He wanted some information but not with Lindsey here. It was too dangerous.

— "We’re leaving. Now," he said firmly.

But Lindsey didn’t seem to agree. His plate and his glass of wine were still full, and the conversation far too interesting.

— "Just a little longer. Drac’ is actually really cool…" he signed.

— "Am I dreaming or did you just fingerspell ‘Drac’?" Angel exclaimed, eyes wide in disbelief.

Lindsey shrugged, as if to say Bah what?, then took another sip of wine.

Angel shook his head again and moved closer to him. With a decisive gesture, he grabbed Lindsey’s arm and hauled him to his feet.

— "You’ve had enough to drink. We’re going."

Still seated, Count Dracula watched the scene with an amused curiosity. But while Angel and Lindsey walked past him, he stood up and intercepted them.

— "It’s truly a shame to leave so soon… You’ll miss the waltz," he said with a mysterious tone.

At those words, Lindsey’s eyes lit up and he pulled his arm free.

"Oh, I love dancing! Waltz with me, Angel!" he signed.

— "Lindsey… Do you really think this is the time?"

Angel’s tone had hardened, and Lindsey frowned. Offended, he turned away in a sulky gesture, presenting his back to his husband and crossing his arms over his chest.

Angel ran a hand over his face. He had rarely seen Lindsey drunk. Very rarely, in fact; his husband usually drank responsibly. At least since they’d been together. He hesitated, unsure how to react. But before he could make a move, Dracula had stepped forward and extended a hand toward Lindsey, implicitly inviting him to dance.

Lindsey gave a bright smile and reached for the Count’s hand without a second’s hesitation, leaving Angel stunned.

— "Are you serious right now?!" Angel exclaimed, stepping between them before they could take a single step. "How many glasses of wine have you drunk?"

Lindsey raised one finger, a confident look on his face.

— "One glass," Angel repeated, clearly unconvinced. "Sure. One glass and you’re in this state…"

He grabbed Lindsey’s arm again, this time holding hard enough to stop any further attempts to escape. Without another glance at Dracula, he dragged his husband toward the exit, not without difficulty, considering how unwilling Lindsey was to leave.

— "God, I hope it’s just the alcohol…" Angel muttered as they reached the car, thinking of all the rumors he'd heard about Dracula’s powers.

---

Angel parked the car in front of the hotel in heavy silence.

Lindsey, arms crossed and eyes stubbornly turned toward the window, hadn’t made a gesture since Angel had dragged him out of Dracula’s manor. He was sulking. And not just a little.

— "You done with your whimsy, or do I have to drag you up to the room?" Angel said as the car came to a stop.

In response, Lindsey shot him a dark glare.

Angel shook his head – he had done this so many times this evening – and got out of the vehicle. Without any further reaction, Lindsey stepped out as well and headed straight for the hotel entrance, his quick, clipped steps testifying to his mood.

In the room, he barely took a few steps before collapsing across the bed.

Angel raised an eyebrow.

— "Oh, so this is your revenge… hogging the whole bed… Very mature, sweetheart! Want me to sleep on the floor too?"

He stopped as he approached.

Lindsey was already asleep, still fully dressed. His face, despite the anger from just a few minutes earlier, now looked relaxed, peaceful.

Angel stood next to the bed for a moment, arms crossed, watching him, unsure what to think. After a few minutes, he sat down on the mattress and ran his finger tenderly over his husband’s cheek with a faint, melancholic smile.

— "Lindsey McDonald… What am I going to do with you?" he muttered softly.

Maybe Lindsey had just drunk a little too much, or maybe he’d been carried away by the decadent atmosphere of the mansion. That’s what Angel hoped. But another thought had been looping through his mind ever since he’d entered that damned ballroom. The rumors, that supernatural charisma, the hypnotic aura… Yet he’d never had any concrete proof that Count Dracula truly possessed an irresistible power of seduction.

But there were those humans. Four women, one man. Maybe more. What were they doing there? Were they there of their own free will? Or unconsciously seduced and reduced to mere playthings for the Count?

Angel clenched his jaw. Whatever the case, one thing was certain.

Tomorrow, when he returned to see Dracula, Lindsey would stay here.

Better still: he’d lock him in the room. And tie him up, too. Because he knew his husband by heart, and his tempers could be violent. If Lindsey really wanted out, he wouldn’t hesitate to break a window, a door, or even all the furniture.

With that decision made, Angel finally pushed Lindsey aside and slipped in bed beside him.
Tomorrow, he’d deal with Dracula.

---

The next day, Lindsey woke up late, almost noon. His head was heavy and throbbing. He groaned as he turned over in the bed. Eventually, he sat up with difficulty, massaging his temple with his fingertips, before letting his eyes sweep around the room, as if only now remembering where he was.

— "Sleep well, my love?" Angel asked with a slightly mocking smile at the sight of his husband’s face.

Lindsey slowly turned his head toward him. Sitting on a chair facing the bed, Angel had his sketchbook open on his lap, the pencil hovering between his fingers.

Lindsey just stared at him blankly without answering. His expression was obvious enough. With a deep sigh, he let himself fall back onto the mattress, wishing for only one thing: that this damned hangover would disappear.

Angel smiled. His anger had faded during the night, and Lindsey looked like he was paying the price of his behavior… He set down his sketchbook and got up. A few moments later, he returned from the bathroom with a pill and a glass of water, which he handed to Lindsey.

— "Take this. But don’t expect your hangover to vanish just like that, I’m not a witch…" he said with a grin, joining him on the bed.

Lindsey straightened up against the pillows and swallowed the pill.

— "Are you up for a conversation?" Angel asked, watching him closely.

Lindsey nodded. Not that he was in any shape to do much more. Certainly not to eat...

— "What happened yesterday?" Angel asked, getting straight to the point.

He had spent the whole morning wondering how best to approach the topic and had finally decided to just dive in.

On the bed, Lindsey frowned, trying to recall the events of the previous night.

"I drank… I think," he signed eventually.

Angel narrowed his eyes.

— "Is that all?" he asked, still worried.

Lindsey nodded, but his gaze was uncertain.

— "So, he didn’t try to… seduce you?" Angel pressed, not really convinced by Lindsey’s slightly hesitant expression. "Or… kiss you, for example?"

Lindsey’s eyes widened and he quickly shook his head.

"Of course not!"

— "You were about to dance with him, though…"

Lindsey opened his mouth in protest, then closed it.

"I was drunk. And I like dancing. That’s all," he signed with a look that was meant to be reassuring.

Angel thought for a moment, still somewhat skeptical. Then he decided to believe his husband and nodded. In a smooth motion, he stood to retrieve his sketchbook and handed it to Lindsey.

— "These are sketches of the five humans who were with Dracula," he explained. "I think it would be a good idea to find out who they are and whether they’re there of their own free will."

Lindsey studied the drawings for a minute, then glanced at his watch. Given the time, he was the only one who could go out.

"I’ll go ask a few questions at the reception desk and around town," he offered.

Angel hesitated. After what had happened the night before, he was determined not to let Lindsey out of his sight – or tying him up. But the afternoon had only just begun, and Dracula was probably still asleep… Angel finally nodded.

— "Okay, but you come straight back, alright?"

Lindsey smiled, amused by the hint of jealousy in his husband’s voice.

"Promise. Sorry about last night," he signed softly.

Angel watched him for a moment before murmuring:

— "You really wanted to meet him, huh?"

"Well, he’s a celebrity…" Lindsey signed with a slight shrug and a teasing glint in his eye.

— "I’m a celebrity too…" Angel muttered, feigning a sulky tone. "Most creatures of the night know Angelus."

Lindsey let out a silent laugh.

"Of course, my angel: you’re my celebrity,” he signed before kissing him on the cheek and heading to the bathroom.

---

Lindsey had come back as promised, but the information he’d gathered was far from reassuring.

Relatives of the humans in question had noticed disturbing changes in them: unexplained absences lasting several days, returns marked by extreme fatigue, and above all, a reluctance to discuss what they’d done during these periods… except for a strange sense of well-being.

Angel didn’t like it. Dracula was toying with those humans like puppets, and the worst part was that those poor people didn’t even seem to want to get away from him. They were completely in his thrall.

Lindsey, however, had kept his promise by coming back on time, and to reassure his husband, had even agreed to stay at the hotel this time.

So it was alone that Angel arrived at Dracula’s door.

As the day before, a lightly dressed human woman opened the door with a smile and invited him in, leading him once again to the grand ballroom. Count Dracula was comfortably seated in an armchair, with a human on either side perched on the armrests: a woman and a man, both dressed in gauzy clothing that left little to the imagination. A red trail ran down the man’s neck.

Angel froze.

Dracula followed his gaze and smiled in amusement. He brushed his fingers across the young woman’s throat and looked at Angel meaningfully.

— "An aperitif?"

Angel declined it with a gesture, clenching his jaw.

Dracula seemed neither offended nor surprised.

— "What did you do to Lindsey?" Angel demanded bluntly.

— "Me? Nothing. Yet. We just got to know each other," Dracula replied.

— "Oh, you just got to know each other…" Angel repeated, his gaze darkening.

— "Yes… You’d be surprised, my dear Angel, at how many humans come to see me. Just like that. To chat. Some stay. Some don’t."

Angel shook his head.

— "Let me make this clear: Lindsey will never set foot in here again," he said firmly.

Dracula raised an amused eyebrow.

— "Really?"

— "Yes. He won’t fall for your little game."

The Count gave a small smile.

— "We’ll see…" he replied. "I must confess, the idea of stealing his little toy from the great Angelus is really tempting…"

— "Lindsey is not a toy. And believe me, if you try to come after him, you will meet worse than Angelus…"

As his only response, Dracula rose and strolled casually toward a large table set this time in the center of the room, gesturing for Angel to follow. Once he was seated, he poured himself a small glass of wine but said nothing.

Angel hesitated a moment, then joined him and sat down opposite him.

— "I came for information," he said without preamble, determined to leave this place the moment he got what he wanted, preferably with the humans in tow.

— "Patience, my dear friend," Dracula replied smoothly, raising a hand. "Our guest of honor hasn’t arrived yet…"

Angel narrowed his eyes, puzzled.

— "Our guest of honor?"

— "He shouldn’t be long now…"

As if to confirm his words, a knock echoed from the front door, and the young woman got up to answer it.

Immediately, Angel felt a chill run down his spine. He closed his eyes for a second. He didn’t need to wait for her to return with this ‘guest of honor’. Angel would recognize that heartbeat anywhere.

Lindsey.

He really should have tied him up like he had threatened to…

Chapter Text

Lindsey crossed the threshold with a confident step, his eyes gleaming with an unsettling light. Instantly, Dracula rose gracefully in one smooth motion, his smile widening.

— "Ah, my dear Lindsey!" he exclaimed in a charming tone. "We were just waiting for you!"

Angel tensed immediately, but before he could utter a word, the Count had already joined Lindsey and slipped an arm around his waist, pulling him close with a possessiveness that made Angel nauseous. As if he belonged to him. Lindsey didn’t protest. Worse, he smiled back at him, a flicker of delight in his gaze.

At the table, Angel sat frozen. Every fiber of his being screamed for him to leap up and drag his husband away from this place. But if he moved, it would take only one gesture from the Count to snap Lindsey’s neck. He had to wait for the right moment. Angel clenched his jaw.

— "You forgot this last night," Dracula added, handing Lindsey a small object with an elegant gesture, offering it with amused gallantry.

Lindsey looked down and recognized his little notebook. He retrieved it slowly, deliberately brushing the Count’s hand, then lifted his head to thank him with a smile. Dracula took the opportunity to slide his hand once again slowly up his back, pausing briefly before reaching his neck and brushing through his hair.

— "I hope you didn’t have trouble finding your way back," he murmured in his ear, his fingers grazing his neck.

At the touch, a shiver ran through Lindsey, almost imperceptible… Not to Angel. Once again, he had to fight against every instinct screaming at him to intervene. A cold rage coursed through him. Dracula knew exactly what he was doing. A mere caress, but a clear warning, a silent, perverse threat.

The Count lowered his hand again to the small of Lindsey’s back and gently pushed him forward. Lindsey smiled once more and docilely allowed himself to be guided to the table.

Frozen in his seat, Angel didn’t take his eyes off them. His fists clenched around the armrests as he watched them entwined like that. His gaze darkened, full of barely restrained fury. That was his husband, his partner, his Lindsey.

— "Weren’t you supposed to stay at the hotel?" he remarked in a voice meant to be controlled, but whose tension was palpable.

But Lindsey didn’t even give him a glance. He had eyes only for Dracula.

A low growl rumbled in Angel’s chest. This was worse than he had feared. Dracula wasn’t just manipulating Lindsey. He had clearly bewitched him. Angel cursed silently. He had to find a way to break that fucking spell before things got worse.

Dracula gestured for Lindsey to sit beside him, his smile widening slightly when he saw the man comply with unmistakable pleasure. Slowly, he poured wine into a glass and handed it to Lindsey, who accepted without hesitation. Delicately, he then cut a slice of chocolate cake and offered it in the same manner.

Finally, he turned his attention to Angel.

— "You seem tense, my dear."

Angel stared into his eyes without replying. He knew this game. He hated it.

— "Of course… I understand…" Dracula continued. "You’ve been through so many ordeals together… But you must know that such ordeals are hard, exhausting even… If you had protected the one you love better, perhaps he wouldn’t feel the need to look elsewhere for what you fail to give him…"

Dracula brushed the back of Lindsey’s hand with his fingertips.

Angel clenched his fists under the table.

— "Lindsey isn’t looking for anything elsewhere."

— "Oh, but is that really for you to judge?" Dracula tilted his head slightly. "Perhaps my friend Lindsey has simply had enough. He told me everything about your journey last night. Always on the road. Or in graveyards. Ending up in a hospital. Is that really the life you plan to offer him?"

Angel held the Count’s gaze, trying to hide the unease rising within him at those words, which weren’t entirely untrue.

— "Lindsey is a free man. He chose to come on this journey with me. No matter the danger, we’re in this together," he said firmly.

Dracula gave a small smile.

— "And yet he also chose freely to come here tonight…" he said, feigning innocence. "Isn’t that right, my dear?"

Lindsey smiled and nodded gently. Freely, a joke… Angel thought, feeling as if he were invisible. Lindsey responded only to the Count.

— "And since you’re here… freely…" Dracula continued, "You might as well enjoy yourself, right?"

He leaned toward Lindsey, brushing his chin with his fingertips, an unreadable glint in his eyes. And under Angel’s horrified gaze, Lindsey tilted his head towards Dracula. The kiss they shared was both languid and inescapable.

Ice shot down Angel’s spine.

Instinct took over and he jumped to his feet. Without thinking, he lunged. He would rip Lindsey from the Count’s arms and turn that damned vampire to ashes. But before he could take more than a step, human servants emerged from the corners of the room as one, blocking his way.

— "Far be it from me to interrupt this charming spectacle," Dracula said as he finally broke the kiss, a satisfied smile on his lips. "But it seems your ardor is unsettling my companions, my dear."

Angel didn’t respond, assessing the situation. He could easily take care of the four humans. But as he prepared to strike, a side door opened and three vampires silently entered the room.

— "Take care of our guest," the Count ordered smoothly.

And before Angel could move, Dracula laid a possessive hand on Lindsey’s back and led him into an adjoining room. Lindsey didn’t resist. He even smiled. Without a single glance for Angel, he followed the Count with the same unbearable docility.

— "Lindsey!" Angel shouted.

But his cry died against the human wall barring his way.

The humans were the first to strike. They weren’t a real threat, but Angel couldn’t afford to seriously hurt them. He blocked a clumsy punch, sent a man tumbling with a broad sweep of his arm, and dodged another attack.

The vampires, however, aimed to kill.

One lunged at him and Angel pivoted just in time, driving an elbow into his face. Another grabbed his arm, trying to pin him down. Angel twisted with the momentum, reversed the grip, and slammed the attacker into a table, which shattered under the impact.

Moving quickly, he grabbed a broken piece of wood and, without hesitation, drove it into the first vampire’s chest. Ashes. He turned to the second, quicker, who tried to dodge. But Angel was faster, stronger, and above all, more experienced. A kick to the gut, another to knock him down, and a second later, the makeshift stake pierced his heart.

The last one followed, without a chance.

Angel scanned the room. The humans were his last obstacle. Some were unconscious, others dazed. But they were already getting back up, ready to stop him from reaching Lindsey and the Count. Using his vampiric strength to immobilize them without causing serious harm, Angel tied them up as best he could with tablecloths, belts, anything he could get his hands on. He didn’t know what to do with them. Even if he forced them out, they’d likely return to Dracula by morning. Maybe they couldn’t be saved…

But Lindsey…

A wave of raw fury surged through Angel.

If Dracula had harmed him in any way, he would kill him.

Turning to one of the young women who looked completely lost, he murmured:

— "I’ll come back, I promise. I’m going to get the man I love, and then I’ll find a way to help you."

Without wasting another second, he rushed into the room Lindsey and Dracula had disappeared into, ready for battle.

It was a private salon, richly decorated, with dark drapes and velvet armchairs that seemed to absorb the light. But Angel didn’t focus on the luxurious furniture or the heavy curtains. A much more familiar scent struck him instantly.

Blood.

Lindsey’s blood.

He was there, slumped on a couch, his shirt collar open. Dracula was bent over him, his fangs deeply buried in the flesh of his neck. Lindsey wasn’t moving. He offered no resistance, as if sunk into some supernatural torpor.

— "No!" Angel shouted, inhuman rage tearing through his voice.

The cry escaped his lips just as his body lunged forward, stake in hand. He was going to kill that bastard. But as the tip of the stake plunged into his back, the Count evaporated into a cloud of shadows and smoke.

Angel froze. He glanced at Lindsey—he was breathing. Angel spun, searching the room, his fingers tightening around the stake. He knew Dracula had more tricks up his sleeve, and he wasn’t going to let this go. A moment later, the Count reappeared further away, his mocking smile intact.

— "Well, you have good taste, my dear. He’s delicious…" the Count murmured, running his tongue over his lips to lick up the last drops of blood still glistening there.

With a roar of rage, Angel lunged, trying to take advantage of his speed.

Again, Dracula dissipated before the blow could land.

— "Come fight me, you bastard!" Angel growled.

But the game continued. Every time he attacked, Dracula vanished, reappearing elsewhere, forcing Angel to move farther away. Without realizing it, he ended up on the other side of the room.

Then suddenly, Dracula disappeared again… only to reappear right next to Lindsey.

Angel froze. He had made a mistake. He should have stayed close to Lindsey or dragged him out immediately. Now he was too far to intervene…

The Count took advantage of the moment and leaned in, brushing Lindsey’s pale cheek with a falsely tender gesture.

— "I believe it’s time. The game of hide and seek is over now. It’s time I reclaimed my toy."

His eyes sparkled with cruel delight. Effortlessly, he pulled Lindsey—half-unconscious—to his feet and pinned him against his chest, holding him in a possessive embrace.

Then, Dracula raised his own wrist to his mouth and bit down. Blood welled instantly. Without hesitation, he brought his wrist to Lindsey’s lips.

Angel felt a jolt of visceral terror shoot through him.

— "No… no, no, no!" he whispered, before screaming: "Lindsey!!!"

The blood flowed into Lindsey’s throat, and he swallowed reflexively. Just one gulp. But Angel’s entire world imploded.

Then something shifted. As Dracula's blood hit Lindsey's system, the glassy compliance in his eyes flickered. With a sudden jolt of willpower, his eyes cleared in horror as he realized what was happening and he tried to turn his head away. Angel saw it—his husband’s silent struggle, truly aware for the first time since entering the manor. But the Count’s grip was iron and Lindsey's body had no strength left. Dracula tightened his embrace. Holding his wrist against his mouth, he forced him to drink.

Angel’s cry of rage and despair echoed through the room.

His whole being was screaming. His mind raced, imagining every possible outcome, powerless…

If he tried to intervene, Dracula would need only one second to snap Lindsey’s neck. And with the blood he had just consumed, it would transform him into a vampire… Soulless… He would no longer be his Lindsey, only a shadow of the man he loved…

If he stayed put, all he could do was watch the worst helplessly or beg… Pointlessly, he knew. Dracula was not known for mercy.

Finally withdrawing his wrist from Lindsey’s mouth, the Count savored his victory, a triumphant smile on his lips. His hand slid down to Lindsey’s throat, and he squeezed. Lindsey gave a faint gasp, and his hand instinctively reached up to claw at the Count’s arm, trying to break free.

— "No…" Angel murmured in a horrified voice as he saw pain in his husband’s eyes. "Not that, I beg you…"

Dracula’s grin widened, but he loosened his grip. Only to prolong the pleasure.

— "Why not? I’m sure he’d look quite adorable with dainty little fangs and porcelain skin…"

Angel shook his head, desperate. If he had to fall to his knees and beg Dracula for Lindsey’s life, he would. Even if he knew it would be in vain.

Slowly, he raised his arms in a gesture of surrender, letting the stake fall, ready to offer his life if that was what it took.

At this, the Count’s eyes lit up with excitement as he savored his victory once again. His triumphant smile twisted into something more perverse and he tightened his grip around Lindsey’s throat, who could only widen his eyes. He had lost too much blood. He no longer had the strength to resist.

His eyes searched for Angel’s. For the first time since Lindsey had entered the manor, their gazes met.

In the space of a second, Angel saw a glimmer pass through his husband’s eyes—a flash of raw fear, mixed with a regret so profound it seemed to eclipse everything else.

Lindsey’s pale, bloodied lips moved, silently forming a single word.

Sorry.

The word hit Angel like a physical blow, like a cut right through his chest. Lindsey’s expression was like a silent farewell.

Chapter Text

The world no longer existed around Angel. All he could see now was Lindsey. His body slumped in Dracula’s arms, the Count’s fingers tight around his throat. His face so pale. His gaze. Desperate.

Instinct took over and Angel charged forward. He was ready to do whatever it took. Luck was on his side—at that same instant, the door burst open and one of the humans Angel had previously subdued stormed into the room.

Dracula turned his head toward the intruder, distracted for just a fraction of a second. It was more than Angel had dared hope for. He rushed, stake in hand. But once again, the Count vanished in a cloud of dark mist, evading the attack. Except Angel didn’t care anymore: killing Dracula was no longer his priority. Lindsey was.

He caught him before he collapsed and wrapped his arms around him. Freed from the Count’s stranglehold, Lindsey instinctively gasped for air.

— "I’m here… I’m here…" Angel murmured in a hoarse voice, holding him close. "I’ve got you, you’re safe now."

Lindsey was conscious but barely. Unable to support his own weight, his body sagged against Angel’s chest. Yet when their eyes met, there was an intensity beyond measure in his gaze. Despite the fear, it was love that shone there. As if he was trying to pour all his feelings into Angel. As if he knew he was about to die.

A silent farewell.

— "No…" Angel murmured, his throat tight. "I refuse to lose you. You’re gonna be fine, you’ll see. I’m taking you to the hospital right now. You’re gonna be fine."

A movement in his peripheral vision made him look up, and his eyes widened. Dracula had materialized beside the woman who had caused the distraction. Barely glancing at her, he grazed her chin with his fingertips, and in one fluid motion, snapped her neck, twisting her head a full 180 degrees. A sinister crack filled the room as her body collapsed to the floor, her head hanging at a grotesque angle.

— "He’s lost too much blood… He won’t make it that far. It’s no use," Dracula said calmly, as if he hadn’t just committed murder. "You’d better find him a good meal instead. I believe there are still three left in the ballroom."

Angel didn’t reply. This was no longer about fighting. Rage had given way to brutal anguish. And determination. Lindsey needed care. A transfusion. Now.

Without a word, Angel shifted his grip, sliding one arm under Lindsey’s knees to lift him. Stake still in hand, he backed toward the door, ready to react if Dracula made a move. But the Count didn’t. He simply watched them leave, an unreadable smile on his lips.

In the ballroom, Angel was relieved to see that the woman who had distracted Dracula had freed her companions and that they had fled. Maybe they’d come back the next day… maybe not. Angel didn’t have time to think about it. He didn’t know how to break Dracula’s spell on them anyway.

All that mattered was the life slowly slipping away in his arms.

He reached the car at a sprint, wrenched the door open, and settled Lindsey inside as carefully as possible. Angel brushed his cheek and Lindsey’s eyelids fluttered slightly, as if he were fighting off sleep.

— "Hold on…" Angel urged him. "You’re safe. I’m here…" he repeated.

He quickly ran around the car and jumped into the driver’s seat, slamming his foot on the accelerator.

The nearest hospital was in Brasov, about thirty kilometers away. About a thirty-minute drive. Probably less at the speed Angel was planning to go.

— "Stay with me, sweetheart," he went on, one hand on the wheel, the other clasped around Lindsey’s. "Keep your eyes open. Don’t fall asleep. You’re gonna be fine."

Lindsey let out a faint groan, trying to focus despite the blood loss. He attempted to raise his hands to sign something but gave up immediately. He didn’t have the strength. His limbs didn’t respond. Instead, he simply squeezed Angel’s hand, just a little tighter.

Sensing all the weight Lindsey put into that weak grip, Angel felt something crack inside his chest.

— "I’m here, Lin. I’m just right here. Don’t worry. Everything’s fine," he tried again to reassure him, praying that Lindsey didn’t catch his own anguish through his voice which was starting to shake.

The drive went on, and Angel never stopped talking, encouraging him. Words of love, of comfort. He kept his hands in his own, squeezing at times, his thumb stroking gently, reassuringly.

But after fifteen minutes, Lindsey’s grip began to loosen, his fingers slowly slipping from Angel’s. His hand was slick with sweat. And cold. Too cold.

Panic surged through Angel and he yanked the car to the side of the road. With a firm but gentle motion, he turned Lindsey’s face toward him. His gaze was hazy.

— "Hey, come on… Look at me. I know it’s hard and I know you feel cold, and tired, but you can’t fall asleep, my love…"  he said softly. "We’re almost there. I promise."

Lindsey nodded faintly, but Angel could tell his willpower wouldn’t be enough. His lips were taking on a blue tinge and his breathing had become weak.

Angel closed his eyes for a second. It was as if he could feel it – Lindsey’s life ebbing away with each weakening heartbeat. He had no choice.

Shifting into his vampire form, Angel bit his own wrist and held it out to his husband.

— "Drink, sweetheart. Just a little."

Lindsey opened his eyes wide and he shook his head weakly. He didn’t need to sign anything, his frightened expression said it all: Not that. I don’t want to become a vampire.

— "Lindsey, Lin, baby, focus, listen to me. You have to drink. My blood will only turn you if you die. And you’re not going to die, okay? It’ll just help you hang on until we reach the hospital. I promise you."

Lindsey's gaze flickered between Angel's face and his bleeding wrist. Fear mingled with exhaustion. But he was in no state to argue. He closed his eyes and surrendered to Angel, placing his life (and soul) entirely in his husband’s hands.

The vampire brought his wrist to Lindsey’s mouth and gently pressed it against his lips. The first taste came hesitantly, then with more confidence as some kind of instinct took over.

— "Yes, that’s it, that’s good, my love,” Angel murmured, his free hand stroking Lindsey’s hair. "Just a little more."

After a few sips, he pulled his wrist away. Lindsey seemed a little less pale. At least, that was the impression Angel had under the car’s artificial light.

— "Better?" Angel asked softly.

But for all answer, Lindsey let his head rest against the seat. His breathing was more steady, but he was still struggling to keep his eyes open and stay conscious.

— "Don’t worry. You’re gonna be fine," Angel murmured again, aware he was repeating himself. "I won’t let you die."

He shrugged out of his coat to wrap around Lindsey before pressing his lips to his temple, then took the wheel again.

Now, he had to drive. Fast. Speed limits be damned. Angel raced through the night. His hand had found Lindsey’s once more, and he remained alert for the slightest change in his breathing or heartbeat.

He would hold on. He had to.

The hospital was in sight now.

---

— "I don’t know... It feels like it’s been hours since they took him in, but no one’s telling me anything…"

Angel’s voice was hoarse, tired. His phone was pressed against his ear, but Wesley's words seemed to come from very far away. The vampire’s gaze remained fixed on the double swinging doors at the end of the room, the ones Lindsey had disappeared through when they arrived. Somewhere behind them, doctors were working on him. But it had been so long…

Angel closed his eyes for a second, fighting the wave of anxiety that threatened to consume him. His leg bounced nervously, his fingers gripping the phone so tight his knuckles had gone white.

Around him, the hospital buzzed with its usual chaos. He was in the emergency area. Nurses were passing by, pushing metal gurneys that clattered through the halls. A tired-looking doctor was speaking in a flat tone to a sobbing family. A patient in a wheelchair was dozing in a corner, his arm in a cast resting in his lap. Low murmurs blended with the staff directives. The world kept turning, indifferent.

With every new noise, with every person coming out of that hallway he couldn’t tear his eyes from, Angel straightened, hoping to spot a doctor or nurse who might bring news. But nothing. Just the same endless cycle, the unbearable wait.

— "He was dying, Wes. In the car… he was… In my arms... And… I… I watched him slipping away… Fuck, Dracula took so much of his blood… So much…" he continued in a broken voice, leaning back against the hard waiting room chair.

He could still smell it. The blood. And his wrist seemed to tingle where Lindsey had drunk from him. He’d done the right thing, hadn’t he? That blood had kept him alive. And he was. Right?

Angel ran a hand over his face, trying to regain some composure but it was useless.

— "I just want to be with him, Wes… Even if it’s only to hold his hand. I… I don’t want him to die alone…" he murmured, his voice breaking on the last word.

His grip on the phone tightened, but Wesley’s reassurances couldn’t make his fears disappear. He finally ended the call, promising to keep in touch as soon as he had news, and leaned his head back against the wall, briefly closing his eyes.

The wait went on anew.

He should’ve heard something by now. A transfusion didn’t take this long. Why wasn’t anyone coming?

— "This isn’t normal…" he murmured to himself.

At the admission desk, a young woman in a blue scrub top tapped away at her keyboard, indifferent to his presence. He’d already asked. Three times. The answer had always been the same: "We’ll let you know as soon as we can."

The minutes dragged on, feeling like hours.

Since hanging up, Angel had been alone with his thoughts. Alone with that anguish tightening his throat, squeezing his heart as if it were still beating.

He closed his eyes again, trying to clear his mind. But behind his eyelids, ghostly images formed. Lindsey half-conscious in the car. His face so pale, so cold. His lips barely parted over Angel’s bloody wrist as he drank, eyes closed. Had he forced him? Angel had had the impression Lindsey had agreed, convinced. But he’d been so weak at that moment. Had Angel crossed a line he shouldn’t have?

They never should’ve come to Romania… Everything had gone wrong from the moment they arrived. The argument to start with. Then Dracula… Angel clenched his fists. This was his fault. They should’ve gone straight to see Giles in Rome, without detours. He hadn’t even gathered any useful information… All this was useless!

Angel tightened his jaw. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. He’d promised Lindsey he’d be there for him, that he’d protect him. And now he was just sitting here, helpless.

He ran a hand over his face, trying to push the thoughts away. But more images took shape in his mind.

Lindsey. As a vampire. Cold skin. The love he’d tried to convey through his eyes earlier replaced by pure cruelty and hunger. A pile of bodies at his feet. A thin trickle of blood running down his chin as he licked his lips with satisfaction, two small fangs peeking out from his smiling, predatory mouth.

Angel shook his head. No. Even if Lindsey died and become a vampire, he’d ask Willow to restore his soul before he could do the irreparable. She could certainly do it. She’d already done it, after all. She’d be able to manage. Even without the curse as a basis.

Guilt tangled with fear now, and Angel was starting to feel sick – even if that wasn’t possible for a vampire. He got up and began pacing, hoping to clear his head.

Whatever happened next, he’d done everything he could, he tried to convince himself.

Whether Lindsey survived as a human or came back as a vampire, he would be there for him. Even if he had to become Angelus again and live in blood and violence. He would be there. He would destroy the world at his side if Lindsey felt like it. For better or for worse. Right now, it was the only thing he was sure of. The only thing he could hold on to.

A creaking sound made Angel freeze on the spot.

The door had opened, and a man in a white coat stepped out.

Angel recognized him instantly: he’d been there when they arrived, he was the one who had asked for Lindsey’s blood type.

The doctor scanned the waiting room and, spotting Angel, gave him a small wave.

Angel felt his throat tighten. He put away his phone, still clenched in his hand even though the call had ended several minutes (or hours) ago. His whole body was suddenly tense, his mind teetering between hope and raw fear.

He crossed the waiting room in long strides, his eyes locked on the doctor.

Chapter Text

Lindsey was struggling to emerge. Everything was blurry. His eyelids were heavy, his thoughts muddled. He closed his eyes again and tried to piece his memories back together. Dracula. His bite, burning. The tepid blood in his throat. Angel’s cold hand gripping his own, gentle, yet firm. Then lights, too bright. Sounds, too loud. Distant voices. Angel yelling, "It’s A+, I’m sure of it, 100% sure of it!" It took Lindsey a while to acknowledge what he was talking about. Then the flood of memories faded, and Angel’s voice brought him back to reality.

Lindsey stirred and pushed himself up halfway against the pillow, still groggy. As he blinked the last remnants of sleep from his eyes, he finally became aware of his surroundings. And there he was, sitting right beside him on the bed. Angel’s gaze was soft, incredibly soft. Full of love. As if he were looking at the most precious thing in the world.

Lindsey felt his throat knot and his eyes filled with tears.

— "Hey... I’m here..." Angel murmured, drawing him tenderly into his arms, careful not to tug at the IV line. "I’m here... It’s okay. You’re alive. Really alive. It’s okay."

Lindsey barely nodded, trying to hold back overwhelming emotions.

— "What’s wrong, Lin? Are you in pain?" Angel asked softly.

Slowly, Lindsey shook his head. No, he wasn’t in pain. But it was hard. Too hard. Too much turmoil was colliding inside him when he had only just woken up: the dread of becoming a vampire, which hadn’t completely faded, despite feeling his heart beating in his chest, the memory of Dracula’s thrall and that sensation of not being in control of his own body... and the fear... the fear of having disappointed Angel by letting himself be bewitched.

And he was back in the hospital. Again. He couldn’t take it anymore. Mentally, he was at his breaking point, on the verge of cracking.

— "It’s over, sweetheart, it’s over. You’re safe, now. I love you," Angel tried to reassure him.

At those words, tears overflowed and streamed silently down Lindsey’s cheeks. He shook his head, unable to express what he was feeling. Angel froze for an instant, shocked to see his husband cry — he who was usually so strong, reacting with anger and violence rather than showing that kind of vulnerability. The moment of surprise over, Angel hugged him a little tighter.

— "Shh… It’s okay, my love. Everything’s alright. The doctors even said that you’re almost perfectly fine: they couldn’t believe how fast you were recovering. You’ll go out soon, I promise. You’re alright. We’re alright. The two of us," he murmured.

Again, Lindsey shook his head. He raised his hands briefly to sign something but lowered them almost immediately, powerless to explain. He didn’t have the words, not even with his fingers.

But Angel didn’t need signs. Lindsey’s eyes said enough.

— "I’m not angry. Just relieved," he said in a soft voice, then repeated once more, "It’s okay."

This time, Lindsey nodded a bit more firmly, his cheeks still damp. Then he formed a small heart with his fingers.

— "I love you too," Angel replied, kissing his forehead tenderly.

Lindsey gave a faint smile through the remaining tears. He sniffled as discreetly as possible, wiped his face with his hand, slowly regaining control of his emotions. Finally, he nodded. He had calmed down a little.

Angel gave him several minutes, which Lindsey greatly appreciated. A bit more composed after organizing his thoughts, he looked around. A traditional hospital room. An IV in his arm, electrodes on his chest, and a finger clip he already wanted to rip off. And monitors that wouldn’t stop beeping. He felt fine, though. Well, physically at least. Mentally, he still felt... shaken, jumbled. His throat tight.

— "Do you want to go home?" Angel finally asked gently.

Lindsey lifted his head, surprised, and stared at him wide-eyed.

— "If it’s too much, we can go back to L.A.," Angel added. "I’d rather stay a vampire a hundred times over than lose you or see you unhappy. Do you want to go home?"

Lindsey shook his head faintly.

— "No..."

He froze. Angel too.

— "Lindsey…" the vampire whispered. "Am I imagining hearing things?"

Lindsey hesitated. He pressed his lips together and swallowed, then went for it, only half believing.

— "An…gel," he said hesitantly.

A flash of disbelief crossed the vampire’s face, quickly replaced by raw emotion.

— "Oh my god, Lin… you're talking…" Angel murmured, his voice trembling.

It was his turn to have tears in his eyes. Beside him, unable to hold back the overflow of emotion any longer, Lindsey burst into sobs. Immediately, Angel took him in his arms again, holding him tightly, one hand buried in his hair, the other pressed against his back. They stayed like that for a few minutes. Then, unable to resist, Angel pulled away slightly, his eyes shining feverishly.

— "Say something! Anything…" he demanded, his tone full of a mixture of hope and urgency.

Lindsey didn’t hesitate for a second.

— "I… I love you, Angel," He paused to clear his throat. "I love you… So much…"

His voice was a little hoarse. A bit broken.

— "Oh I love you too, Lindsey…" Angel whispered.

His hands framed Lindsey’s face, his thumb gently stroking his damp cheek, and he kissed him. A tender, deep, long kiss.

— "Say it again," he asked when they pulled apart.

— "I love you. I love you," Lindsey repeated, through tears of joy this time.

Angel shivered hearing it again.

— "Oh God, I didn’t realize I missed your accent so much…"

Lindsey let out a small laugh.

Resonant.

Which triggered another wave of happiness in Angel.

— "And your laugh…" he murmured, stunned by this miracle. "It’s the most beautiful sound in the world."

Lindsey laughed again at the cheesy comment, and Angel pulled him close. And Lindsey let himself go, laughing and crying at the same time against his husband’s shoulder.

Then he shook his head slightly.

— "How?" he asked, incredulous.

— "I don’t know… Dracula’s blood?" Angel guessed before exclaiming, "Who cares, you can talk!"

Lindsey nodded with a dazzling smile. Taking a deep breath, he ran his palms over his face, wiping away the last of his tears. He let out a faint embarrassed chuckle before finally regaining his composure.

— "I’m sorry…" he said more seriously, turning slightly to face Angel on the bed.

The vampire shook his head.

— "You don’t have anything to be sorry for."

But Lindsey looked him in the eye.

— "Yes, there is. I... I didn’t… listen to you... I…" Lindsey trailed off. It was strange. Now that he could talk, the words eluded him, as if his brain had forgotten how to pronounce them.

Focusing, he tried a longer sentence.

— "I had been careless, I should’ve stayed behind," he said, detaching the words a bit oddly. "Like you said. Twice."

Angel smiled blissfully. He would never get tired of that sound.

— "It’s not your fault... Not entirely at least... But I’m not mad," he said warmly, then added with a more humorous tone, "Well, after your first escapade, I admit I really, really wanted to tie you up... but I guess it wouldn’t have helped. You were already under his thrall, you’d have found a way to get to him anyway, right?"

— "Yeah, I think so…" Lindsey admitted, regretful.

— "But you don’t want to anymore, do you?" Angel asked with a hint of urgency in his tone, as if he needed reassurance fast.

— "No, of course not!" Lindsey exclaimed. "The spell broke when he made me drink his blood."

His voice was growing a bit more confident though he still spaced his words slightly apart.

— "Great," Angel declared, relieved, wrapping an arm around Lindsey’s shoulders. "I love you."

— "I love you too," Lindsey smiled. "That’s why I’m so ashamed. I’m sorry, I regret it…" he insisted.

— "You shouldn’t… Don’t you think maybe, in the end, everything worked out for the best?"

Lindsey said nothing, reflecting on Angel’s words. Maybe he was right. If he had stayed put in the hotel room, Dracula would never have made him drink his blood. And he probably would never have gotten his voice back.

They remained like that for a while, absorbing what had just happened, in a silence punctuated only by the endless beep of the monitors, until Lindsey broke the quiet. Wanting to test his voice, he began repeating random words several times - objects in the room, the names of his friends and colleagues. When the sounds and syllables seemed to come out a little more fluidly, he tried longer sentences and recited a few articles of law, reacquainting himself with the weight and rhythm of speech. Angel watched him, amused and deeply moved at the same time. It was as if he was reclaiming this sound he hadn't heard for so long. Finally, Lindsey seemed satisfied and smiled.

He felt truly well now. No real pain, barely any fatigue. Nothing. Just well. Yet he shook his head, still incredulous. This miracle seemed too perfect to be true.

— "But I drank your blood after I lost my voice, and it didn’t work…" he pointed out. "How is this possible?"

Angel shrugged.

— "I don’t know, Lin… It’s Dracula. He does weird stuff. Maybe his blood is different too..."

Lindsey nodded. They would certainly have to investigate this further to get more precise answers.

— "Before you woke up, I told Wesley everything I could gather—like the evaporation, the forced seduction," Angel added. "He already knew some of it, but it helped him separate fact from fiction. I asked him to investigate if there’s a way to ‘solidify’ Dracula, to stop him from vanishing every time we try to stake him. I’d like to free the humans he keeps under his control as a food supply. And stop him for good."

— "Okay, great!" Lindsey announced enthusiastically. "I feel like that blood not only healed my throat but also gave me a huge energy boost! I’m not even tired: I’m ready whenever you are!"

But Angel stared at him, wide-eyed.

— "Okay, first of all, even if that blood you drank seems to have worked miracles judging by your motivation, the doctor still wants to keep you under observation for at least a day. And second, neither of us is going back there. I’ll see with our team—and maybe Buffy and hers."

Lindsey opened his mouth to protest, but closed it almost immediately, choosing to nod. Maybe he had ignored Angel’s advice enough for a little while.

— "Alright, we’ll let them handle it. But don’t worry, I don’t think Dracula could control me again now that the spell is broken."

— "Probably not, but I’d rather take no chances. Wesley and Sienna will work with Buffy’s team and do just fine."

Lindsey nodded again with a smile and nestled against Angel. Being pampered wasn’t so bad after all. The vampire tightened his arm around his shoulders and kissed his hair, clearly thinking the same thing.

Minutes dragged on again, only broken by the usual noises of the daily routine at the hospital. They both lay there, in silence, just enjoying each other’s presence.

— "Oh, by the way…" Angel suddenly said. "Wesley told me you should call Connor back. Apparently, he’s mad at you."

— "Mad at me? What did I do?" Lindsey asked, surprised.

— "No idea… Are you feeling well enough? Should I call him now?" asked the vampire, still a bit worried about his husband’s health.

Even if Lindsey already seemed eager to jump back into action, it had to be said that he had just narrowly escaped death…

Well, that’s Lindsey, thought Angel.

After all, he was used to recovering from extreme situations, even a severed hand, assassination attempts and a fight with specters, among other things…

And sure enough, Lindsey nodded without hesitation.

— "Of course, I’m fine! I don’t even need all this junk, I’m sure of it!" he exclaimed, gesturing to the devices around him.

Ever since realizing he had his voice back, he’d felt a bit euphoric: happiness mingled with excitement and an overwhelming desire to be positive.

— "You leave that ‘junk’ alone, just in case!" Angel insisted nonetheless firmly.

Then, he picked up his phone and dialed Connor’s number.

It barely rang before the young man’s voice came through, tense with worry.

— "Dad! Is Lindsey okay??" he asked urgently.

Since his father had called him from the ER last night, his anxiety had skyrocketed.

— "Yes, he’s fine. Better than fine, actually," Angel reassured him.

A sigh of relief echoed from the phone.

— "Okay, put me on speaker so he can hear me."

— "Done."

— "Lindsey, do you realize how worried I was?" Connor went on, his voice rising in pitch. "You didn’t text me back!" he snapped. "I was scared to death…"

Lindsey blinked, taken aback by the sudden outburst of reproach.

— "Hey, easy, Connor, calm down," Angel protested. "Lindsey just woke up about thirty minutes ago: he wouldn’t have been able to contact you earlier…"

— "I’m not talking about now, I mean over a week ago!" Connor retorted, frustrated.

Imitating Lindsey exaggeratedly, he said with mock irritation:

— "You know how to stop a train, Connor? You have 15 minutes…"

Then he returned to his normal tone, clearly angry:

— "And after that? Nothing!" he exclaimed. "Not a message, not a sign of life! Thank god Wesley told me you were still alive!"

Lindsey paled. Oops… In the urgency and chaos of events, he had completely forgotten to contact Connor again. He exchanged an awkward look with Angel.

— "I’m sorry, Connor…" he said sincerely. "A lot happened and… I forgot to text you… I’m sorry."

— "Well, you should be, Lindsey! Because… wait… what?"

A stunned silence followed.

— "I’m sorry, Connor," Lindsey repeated, an amused smile playing on his lips despite himself. "I should have messaged you."

— "Lindsey… You’re talking…?!"

Connor’s voice had shifted from anger to pure astonishment.

— "Yes."

— "But… since when? How is that possible?"

— "Since… about thirty minutes, I think," Lindsey answered, glancing at Angel who gave a small nod. "And we don’t really know… We met Dracula. He did weird stuff. Like in the movies… It got a bit out of hand and well… he forced me to drink his blood. We guess that’s it…"

Angel chuckled; Lindsey had downplayed the situation quite a little. But they will have time to discuss the technical aspects of that supernatural healing after.

— "I feel amazing, though," Lindsey added cheerfully.

A stunned silence followed, then Connor let out a disbelieving laugh.

— "Wow! That’s… incredible! I mean… I’m still mad at you! But wow… You’re talking!"

The excitement in his voice was clear and, despite what he had just said, had instantly wiped away his earlier anger.

On the other end of the line, Lindsey smiled. For the first time in a long time, he felt whole.

— "This is the last time," he declared.

Angel gave him a puzzled look, frowning.

— “This is the last time I end up in the hospital."

---

When Lindsey hung up a while later, he let out a deep sigh. It had been such a long time since he’d talked that much. He leaned back against the pillows, letting his thoughts wander. Finding his voice back felt like rediscovering a part of himself he had left behind in a corner. And being able to share that powerful emotion with Connor had reminded him of the magical bond that had brought them so close.

He smiled softly at Angel, grateful to be able to enjoy this moment with him too. For a few minutes, they just stayed like that. It was strange. Lindsey had just gotten his voice back, but suddenly he found himself at a loss for words. Yet he had so much to say, so many things to share, explanations he had tried to express in sign language and now couldn't wait to articulate in real words.

They talked a little. About recent events and a bit about those to come. Angel brought up his lingering guilt about forcing Lindsey to drink his blood in the car, the weight of that decision still heavy on his conscience. But Lindsey quickly silenced his concern and reassured him. It had been the right decision and the blood had certainly saved his life.

The afternoon passed quickly, between calm and euphoria. The light was already beginning to fade through the curtains, casting the room in warm, amber tones. The evening atmosphere felt peaceful, almost suspended in time.

Lindsey yawned, sinking a little deeper into the pillows.

— "You should get some sleep..." Angel advised softly.

Out of reflex, Lindsey shook his head. Before remembering that he could speak.

— "No, I still have so many things I want to tell you..." he protested. "And I want to sing too!"

Angel smiled.

— "You have all the time in the world. All your life, even," the vampire said. "You should rest your voice, or your throat will be sore tomorrow."

Lindsey frowned slightly, a small knot forming in his throat. Tomorrow scared him. What if his voice disappeared again? After all, Dracula’s blood might only have a temporary effect, they didn’t know for sure... He sighed, then shook his head. Worrying wouldn’t help anyway.

Next to him, Angel seemed to understand what was going through his mind.

— "There’s no reason to worry. You’re healed. Completely healed," he tried to reassure him. "You know what? You’re going to rest for a few hours. And in the meantime, I’ll use the darkness to go pick up your guitar and our things at Bran. How’s that sound?"

Lindsey smiled and nodded.

— "Yeah, that sounds great," he agreed. "Can you bring me my laptop too? I want to have a video call with Connor."

— "Sure! I’ll leave you my phone until I grab yours from the hotel. If you need anything, just text," Angel concluded. "And now, sleep!"

After a final kiss, he stood up and grabbed his coat. He was about to head for the door when Lindsey caught his arm.

— "Hey!" he called, his eyes shining.

Angel turned back.

— "What is it, sweetheart?" he asked.

Lindsey had a strange twinkle in his gaze. He smiled, then blurted out.

— "I love you, Liam," he declared, his voice a bit shaky. "I love you, my husband."

At those words, Angel’s eyes widened, as if struggling to process what he’d just heard. A wave of emotion crashed over him with such intensity he thought his dead heart might actually burst.

— "Jesus, Lindsey!" he exclaimed, tears welling up. "I… God… Are you trying to kill me?"

His voice was hoarse. Without even noticing, he dropped his coat, then climbed back onto the bed. Attempting to mask how overwhelmed he was, he buried his face in Lindsey’s neck, catching him off guard with the intensity of his reaction. A tender smile appeared on Lindsey’s lips.

— "Sorry," he whispered softly, gently stroking Angel’s hair. "I just wanted to make sure I said it at least once. You know… in case tomorrow..."

Still teary-eyed, Angel pulled back and he brushed his thumb against Lindsey’s throat with infinite gentleness.

— "There’s no reason your voice will be gone tomorrow," he repeated tenderly, like a promise. "None. And if you can’t talk tomorrow – which won’t happen – I will personally go back to Dracula’s place, drain him of all his blood and make you drink every last drop."

Lindsey chuckled then nodded, a bit reassured. Angel smiled.

— "Say it again," he asked, taking Lindsey’s fingers and intertwining them with his own.

Lindsey grinned. His eyes lingered on Angel’s face, as if he were trying to memorize every detail of this moment before speaking again.

— "I love you, Liam. And I’m so proud to have you as my husband. And so happy. This is truly perfect happiness."

Lindsey’s eyes were sparkling.

— "Perfect happiness," Angel echoed, placing a kiss on his lips.

Suddenly, tomorrow seemed a lot less scary for Lindsey.

Chapter Text

Lindsey dropped Angel’s phone onto the bed. That was the third time he’d picked it up.
The third time he’d put it back down. Without even managing to dial the number.

He sighed and let himself fall back against the pillow. It was quiet; the sun hadn’t risen yet.
He’d only slept a few hours, at most. But he felt well. Maybe it was Dracula’s blood…

The first thing he’d done upon waking was, of course, test his voice. It still felt weird. As if it didn’t really belong to him anymore. Yesterday, the whole afternoon had been spent in a kind of euphoria, a strange atmosphere where he’d let himself be carried along without really processing what was happening.

Now, alone in his hospital bed, he was slowly starting to grasp what this healing meant. He’d be able to go back to work fully: plead in court, handle meetings without having to ask Nate or their secretary to interpret. He’d be able to sing again, maybe perform duets with Ali at their concerts… And just talk. With his colleagues, his friends. The cashier at the little market down the street, the pizza delivery guy, the neighbors,…  All those people with whom he interacted regularly but who had never heard his voice, and to whom he usually just gave a nod… With Connor.

With Eliot.

Lindsey looked back down at Angel’s phone on the mattress. Taking a deep breath, he retrieved it and this time dialed the number.

After two rings, Eliot picked up, sounding astonished.

— "Angel?" he asked, clearly surprised.

Lindsey opened his mouth to answer, but no sound came out. The words were stuck. This was stupid, he knew he could speak; he’d had proof just a few minutes earlier.

— "Angel?" Eliot repeated, more worried than surprised now. "Did something happen?"

Unsure what to do, Lindsey hung up abruptly and threw the phone to the other side of the bed.

— "Fuck!" he shouted out loud, frustrated. "I can talk, I know I can! So why can’t I say anything?!"

His voice echoed through the room, a tangible proof that he was completely healed. This was ridiculous. All of this was just a mental block. Because he hadn’t truly talked to his brother with real words in over ten years. While he'd managed without him for over ten years, since their reunion, Lindsey couldn't help but send him regular messages, sometimes just to make sure he was still alive and well. But that was just texts, prepared and short. Not a real conversation, with spoken words…

Lindsey ran a trembling hand over his face, trying to focus.

About twenty seconds later, the phone rang, making him jump.

Eliot.

Probably calling back to check if everything was okay.

One ring. Two. Three.

On the fourth, Lindsey finally picked up.

Taking another deep breath, he said:

— "Hi, Eliot."

His voice came out a hesitant whisper. But the words had emerged.

Still, no one answered.

The silence on the other end of the line was so complete that Lindsey wondered for a moment if he had really managed to speak or if he had just imagined it.

He licked his lips, focused, and repeated loudly:

— "Hi, Eliot."

— "Linds?" Eliot answered in a breath, incredulous. "Is that you?"

Lindsey nodded before remembering he had to speak.

— "Yeah, it’s me."

— "You’re talking…"

It wasn’t a question. Just a statement, almost a whisper of amazement.

— "Yeah… Since yesterday," Lindsey confessed. "But I… I didn’t know… I couldn’t…"

His brain was playing tricks on him again, as if it had forgotten the entire vocabulary of the English language.

— "Dammit, Linds! You’re really talking!!!" Eliot burst out on the other end, clearly oblivious to Lindsey’s struggle to find words.

A laugh escaped him. A little gruff, but sincere, full of raw relief.

— "Fuck, how long has it been since I heard your voice…" he stated, almost to himself.

Without waiting for an answer, he asked:

— "Where are you?"

Lindsey blinked, caught off guard.

— "What? Uh… Transylvania, Romania. I’m not exactly sure where, to be honest. A lot of… stuff happened and… I’m in the hospital."

— "You’re in the hospital??? And in Romania? But you okay??? And where the fuck is Romania anyway?"

Lindsey let out a genuine laugh.

— "Eastern Europe. And yeah, I’m fine. More than fine, actually."

His voice sounded steadier now that the conversation was flowing.

Eliot let out a relieved breath.

— "Okay… Well, I was thinking of coming over to celebrate, but… well… I’ll wait for you to get back in the USA from your honeymoon…" He paused. "How long did you two plan this world tour for?"

— "We didn’t really have a timeline… So I’m not sure when we’ll be back in L.A., to be honest…"

A silence followed, heavy with restrained emotion. If he could’ve, Lindsey would’ve rushed to his brother’s place right then and there. Just to see him in person. To have a coffee. To talk.

— "Well, I’m just so happy for you, Linds," Eliot finally said.

Lindsey’s throat tightened a little. He bit his lip, savoring those few words that, for the first time in years, sounded like a real bond between them.

They could fix things. Now, Lindsey was sure of it.

---

Lindsey’s guitar slung over his shoulder and a bag in hand, Angel stepped into the hospital room as soon as visiting hours began. Despite the morning hour, the room was cloaked in darkness: Lindsey had made sure the curtains didn’t let any light in.

Sitting cross-legged on the bed, he looked up as his husband entered. Instinctively, he raised his hand in greeting before remembering that he could speak now.

— "Hi!" he exclaimed cheerfully.

Angel didn’t even have time to answer before Lindsey continued with disarming spontaneity:

— "I love you, Angel!"

His expression was radiant, and his eyes held no trace of the doubt that had inhabited him the day before. Angel smiled as he approached the bed, placing the bag he had brought on the mattress.

— "I can see your voice is working just fine. You seem full of energy this morning! I love you too, sweetheart," he replied, leaning in to kiss him.

Lindsey laughed softly against his lips.

— "Sorry, now that I can speak, I just want to say it all the time. I love you!"

Angel chuckled.

— "No problem. That’s something I love to hear…" he said, amused, as he sat at the edge of the mattress.

He would never get tired of hearing it.

Then, he frowned. Scribbled sheets of paper were scattered across the bed, some filled with crossed-out text, others with notes and music staves.

— "Weren’t you supposed to sleep?" he asked, half-amused, half-reproachful.

— "I was impatient," Lindsey admitted with a slight, apologetic smile.

— "I can see that…" Angel said, shaking his head. "Did you sleep at all, though? How are you feeling?"

— "A little. And I’m fine. In fact, the nurse said I could be discharged this afternoon! I’m ready to go… fight some specters or I can really sing a rock song to a crazy vampire now!"

— "Easy, sweetheart! First thing we’re going to do is go pick up our stuff at the hotel next to the hospital where I left it last night and… maybe have a nice big cuddle?" Angel suggested, trying to sound seductive.

— "Oooh… Do you have something in mind, my dear husband?” Lindsey asked, clearly delighted to emphasize the word husband.

Angel smiled and leaned in toward him.

— "More than just one thing…" he said in an intense tone. "And they’re all going to make you scream with pleasure… I want to hear you moan. And scream my name. I want to hear your voice… for hours…"

Surprised, Lindsey blushed. Since when did Angel say things like that in a public place? But the vampire didn’t stop there. With a knowing look, he slid his hand under the blanket, along Lindsey’s thigh, slowly moving upward in a bold gesture.

— "Ooh… sounds great…" Lindsey agreed, gladly playing along. "After all, I’ve been a really bad man… I lied to you. And I didn’t listen to you… Maybe… you should punish me… tie me up and…"

Angel let out a low approving sound and pressed his palm against Lindsey’s crotch, making him gasp.

— "Mmm… Well, it’s true… I did say something about tying you up… That’s an idea… among others," the vampire approved, leaning in to brush Lindsey’s neck. "But let me just remind you that you're not supposed to enjoy a real punishment…"

— "Oh no, of course not!" Lindsey protested innocently, raising his arms in submission despite the hungry look in his eyes. "It’ll hurt… and I’ll scream… I’ll scream ‘Angel, stop! Please, stop, I beg you!’ and after that, I’ll…"

The door flew open and a smiling nurse entered, interrupting the two men who abruptly moved apart. Blushing, they exchanged a glance. What exactly had she heard?

— "Here are your latest results and the discharge papers, Mr. McDonald. You’ll be able to leave at 2 PM, after the doctor’s check-up," she said, placing an envelope on the bedside table. "You seem to be in good shape, anyway."

— "Uh… yes, everything’s fine," Lindsey confirmed with a nod.

— "Perfect," the nurse replied, her smile widening. "I’d ask you, however, to tone down your… ardor… Hospital rooms aren’t soundproof."

— "Oh, of course… Yes, we promise," Lindsey assured her, his face beet red.

— "Good! I’d hate to have to punish you when you’ve only got a few hours left to wait…" she added with a teasing glint before leaving.

As soon as the door closed, Angel and Lindsey exchanged a look then burst out laughing.

— "Well, I guess we’ll have to behave a little longer…" Lindsey sighed.

Angel nodded, both amused and still a little embarrassed.

— "Since we’ve got a few hours before you’re discharged, will you play for me? " he asked, nodding at the crumpled sheets of paper around them.

— "Sure!" Lindsey replied, his tone taking on a more serious note. "But it’s not finished, and I haven’t tested the music yet…"

Angel shrugged.

— "Doesn’t matter, I want to hear it!"

With a bright expression, Lindsey took his guitar out of its case and quickly tested a few chords. He felt a bit anxious at the idea of singing for the first time in so long. Then he launched into it.

The song was cheerful and the melody catchy. And even though his voice was still a little rough, there was a smile in it when he started to sing:

“Throw me under the train,
Tie me down to the track,
Let them big ole’ wheels roll right over my back,
I’ll have a smile on my face
All the way to the Promise Land.

Well toss me out of the plane,
Watch me fall to the ground,
No, I don't care
If my body ever gets found,
The way you’re lovin’ me baby,
I can die a happy man.

Now that I’ve tasted all your squeezin’ and a touchin’
Baby there ain’t nothin’ I’d miss.
There ain’t no fire like the life I’m livin’
Only heaven could be better than this…”

Lindsey stopped, his fingers gliding over the strings in a final shimmer of suspended notes. He looked down at the page, moved. And slightly uncertain.

— "That’s all I’ve got for now. And it’s just a draft…"

— "I already like it," Angel commented, clearly touched as well.

It wasn’t a sad song, far from it. But it had been so long since he’d heard his husband sing… It felt so good.

— "You planning on using our next adventures as inspiration for the rest?" he asked.

— "Yeah, maybe…" Lindsey replied, still mulling it over. "I also need to change a few chords… And I don’t quite like the chorus…"

Angel took on a thoughtful air, then said, as if stating something completely ordinary:

— "Once, Connor locked me in a kind of coffin and dumped me in the ocean off the coast of Los Angeles. You could use that for inspiration too."

Lindsey blinked.

— "...What? You never told me that!"

Chapter Text

The elevator opened onto a quiet hallway. Reaching the room he’d booked the night before, Angel slid the key card into the lock and pushed the door open, letting his husband step inside first so he could close the curtains.

As he moved back from the window, Lindsey stretched, raising his arms above his head with a knowing smile, clearly aware that Angel’s eyes had drifted towards the strip of skin just revealed above the waistband of his jeans.

Without a word, he lowered his arms and walked slowly toward the bed, clearly intending to pick up where the nurse had interrupted them back at the hospital. But suddenly, he froze, his frown locked on the bed.

Angel stepped into the room and raised an eyebrow.

— "What?"

Lindsey blinked, as if something didn’t make sense. Then he turned to Angel and said, with disarming seriousness:

— "There are no bed rails..."

Angel burst into laughter. Typical Lindsey – never missing a chance to make a comment.

— "Well then, looks like we’ll have to improvise," the vampire replied with a grin, stepping closer.

He placed his hands on Lindsey’s hips, who smiled.

— "Mmmh... Show me. What do you have in mind?" he asked hungrily.

With a provocative look he so rarely showed, Angel plunged his hand into his coat pocket and pulled out a pair of handcuffs with a long chain, letting them dangle from one finger.

Lindsey’s eyes sparkled with a mix of desire and amusement as he pictured the serious vampire lost in the aisles of a sex shop.

— "Oh... You came prepared," he noted, staring at the cuffs. "What else did you buy?"

Angel frowned, a bit embarrassed.

— "Well... I wasn’t really sure what to get…" he confessed. "But I got this from your stuff back at the hotel in Bran."

He held up his small pocketknife to Lindsey, who looked at it with gleaming eyes full of anticipation.

— "What are we waiting for?" he asked, pulling the vampire toward the bed.

He pushed Angel down roughly onto the mattress, capturing his lips in a kiss that was both tender and passionate, and soon, their clothes ended up in a pile on the floor.

A few minutes later, Angel broke the kisses, his gaze burning. He remembered perfectly the last time he had tied Lindsey up. The neckties knotted tightly around his wrists, the knife dancing across his skin, drawing red trails of blood... The way Lindsey had surrendered beneath him, trembling with a mix of apprehension and excitement.

They hadn’t done anything like that in nearly two years. Not since Lindsey had lost his voice.

Angel straightened up slightly, his hands roaming slowly over Lindsey’s body, savoring the warmth of his skin beneath his fingers.

— "Ready?" he whispered, his voice rougher than usual.

Lindsey responded with a simple grin and a provocative look.

— "Cat got your tongue, love?" Angel asked in a playful tone. "Speak."

— "Yes, I’m ready," Lindsey replied. "I want you. I crave you."

A low groan rumbled from Angel’s chest – not just from the words, but from the simple miracle of hearing them. He snapped the cuffs closed with a metallic click, locking Lindsey’s wrists in the cold metal. Then he stepped back and stood up. The long chain of the cuffs had just sparked an idea in his mind.

Lindsey raised an eyebrow, puzzled by the sudden distance.

— "Angel...?"

The vampire didn’t reply but looked up, and Lindsey followed his gaze around the room. A picture frame on the wall, a ceiling hook where a lamp had obviously once hung, a thin pipe running across near the window... Lindsey’s gaze lit up with excitement.

Having found what he was looking for, Angel reached out, grabbing the chain of the cuffs, and tugged on it.

— "Come here."

Lindsey followed without resistance, leaving the bed for the spot where Angel was leading him. Briefly climbing onto a chair, Angel tested the strength of the ceiling hook — solid — then guided Lindsey’s arms above his head and secured the handcuffs’ chain to it. Lindsey was now standing with his wrists restrained above his head, entirely naked.

And that’s when he noticed it.

Just there, on the wall — a mirror. Close. And wide enough to reflect him entirely.

Lindsey blushed and looked away, suddenly a little embarrassed. That was a new game he’d never tried.

After ensuring the attachment would hold even if Lindsey pulled on it, Angel pushed the chair aside, then stepped closer, moving in behind him. Ready to begin, he slid his hands along Lindsey’s sides, his lips grazing his neck.

— "Look at yourself," he said against his skin, his tone commanding.

Lindsey raised his eyes, locking onto his reflection. His chest rose slightly with anticipation, and he could see the tension in his lifted arms and cuffed wrists. He couldn’t see Angel. He knew he was behind him, though: he could feel his hands on his waist, his lips in the hollow of his shoulder. But in the mirror, there was only him, alone, exposed. Already hard, of course.

Brushing a strand of hair aside, Angel traced his fingertips along Lindsey’s nape, stroking the delicate skin.

— "You’re gorgeous... Tell me how it makes you feel, seeing yourself like this," he requested, his voice deep and smooth against Lindsey’s ear.

Lindsey shivered and swallowed hard. The words hovered at the edge of his lips. But with his voice back, he felt free. Liberated.

— "Vulnerable," he confessed. "Fragile. At your mercy. I love it."

— "I love it too…" murmured Angel, placing a soft kiss just below his ear.

Slowly, he moved his hands up Lindsey’s arms, following the lines of muscle to his cuffed wrists, before drifting back down to his hips.

Then, a metallic click sounded, and Lindsey glanced down to see his pocketknife between Angel’s fingers. It wasn’t visible in the mirror.

— "How does that work?" Lindsey asked suddenly, puzzled. "Why can’t I see the knife in the mirror?"

— "Because I’m holding it. Same rule as with clothes," Angel explained.

— "You’re holding me too, and I can see myself..." Lindsey pointed out.

— "You’re a living being, not an inanimate object," Angel replied quickly. "Did you plan to keep asking me technical questions, or should we get started?"

— "Hmm… No… No, I’m good. I think I’m good," Lindsey stated, pretending to think.

— "Well, I have a technical question for you, though," Angel added. "Still ‘red’?"

— "Yes," Lindsey answered simply.

— "Perfect. Now keep your eyes on the mirror. And feel."

Lindsey smiled and raised his head, his gaze fixed once more on his reflection, eager.

Angel didn’t wait any longer. Tightening his grip on the knife handle, he let the blade brush against Lindsey’s skin, just at the nape of his neck, making him flinch. Deliberately, he moved downward, tracing an imaginary line along his spine. Lindsey clenched his fists in the handcuffs, his breathing already growing deeper. He could see his own body reacting in the mirror as anticipation made every sensation sharper.

Behind him, Angel shifted slightly to be able to reach Lindsey’s chest. With a precise gesture, he slid the knife along, stopping just above his heart, which was now beating noticeably faster. Angel pressed the flat of the blade gently against his skin, playing with the tension, then dragged the tip in a tiny motion, just enough to draw a thin bead of blood.

Lindsey felt a shiver run down his spine. In the mirror, his eyes locked onto that first drop of blood, vividly red against his skin. He watched it slowly trickle down, tracing a sinuous path toward his ribs.

— "Do you like seeing yourself like this?" Angel asked, his voice deep beside his ear.

Lindsey’s lips parted, eyes still riveted to his reflection. He felt exposed, caught between uncertainty and raw arousal.

— "Yes... No... I don’t know... but..." He licked his lips before adding, lower, "It turns me on."

Angel let out a faint chuckle.

— "I can see that," he replied, glancing at Lindsey’s erection. "It turns me on too," he admitted.

— "It’s..." Lindsey began, but his voice caught in his throat as Angel suddenly moved before him and lowered his head, licking the blood straight from his skin.

A moan escaped him. Even with Angel now in front of him, bent over his chest, the vampire still wasn’t visible in the mirror. It was disturbing.

Angel’s tongue followed the crimson trail along his torso, savoring every inch. When he reached his nipple, Lindsey tilted his head back, his body arching under the touch.

— "Angel, please..." he urged.

— "Yes, what?" the vampire asked, lifting his head just slightly.

— "Bite me. Right there," Lindsey pleaded.

Angel smiled against his chest before gently wrapping his lips around the taut nipple. He alternated between light sucks and tender licks, relishing every response he drew from Lindsey.

— "Later," he finally decided, stepping to the side.

Lindsey swore.

— "Hey, don’t be mad and let me enjoy this," Angel grinned. "This foreplay is far too interesting..."

Holding Lindsey steady with one hand, he let the knife slide across his skin again, alternating between delicate touches and small cuts. Each one made Lindsey’s heart skip a beat. Angel kept going, tracing new crimson paths along his body. Gradually, he moved lower, grazing his lower abdomen.

Finally, the blade reached its goal. With a light gesture, Angel rotated his wrist and followed the curve of Lindsey’s thigh, moving slowly until he brushed his cock, toying with the sensitivity.

— "Don’t move," Angel warned.

Lindsey just nodded slightly, trying to stay still despite the tremors running through his muscles.

— "And it’s been way too long since you said anything," Angel pointed out. "Talk to me. I want to hear your voice. Tell me what you’re feeling."

Lindsey bit his lip.

— "I’m hot," he said, his voice hoarse. "And... I’m trembling... with impatience."

The blade ran along his cock, from base to tip, without pressure, barely grazing the sensitive skin.

— "It’s frustrating," he admitted in a breath.

Angel grinned.

— "That’s the point..." he stated, making Lindsey smile in return.

— "I know..." he whispered. "And I like it."

Suddenly, the knife pulled away, replaced by the vampire’s cool fingers, which wrapped around his cock. Lindsey gasped, feeling the stark contrast between the light touch of the blade and the steady rhythm of Angel’s caresses.

— "You know what I want?" the vampire murmured at his ear, his hand never ceasing its movement.

Lindsey shivered again, then shook his head slightly.

— "No. Tell me."

Angel tightened his grip slightly around Lindsey’s cock, making him moan.

— "I want you to come while seeing only yourself," Angel uttered softly, his voice dark with desire.

Lindsey felt his breath catch in his throat.

— "Just you, in the mirror," Angel detailed, maintaining his unwavering rhythm. "Not me. Not my hands. Just your reflection. The sight of your own body and how I’m making it feel."

Lindsey swallowed, caught between the unease and raw excitement those words triggered in him.

— "Look at yourself," Angel instructed, stroking him with maddening slowness now. "And talk."

Lindsey’s body responded before his voice. His hips jerked involuntarily, seeking more. A hoarse sigh escaped his throat as he met his own gaze in the mirror.

— "Feels good… More…" he managed, his voice barely above a whisper.

With a smile, Angel complied, slightly accelerating his caresses, watching every reaction with delight. His other hand found Lindsey’s entrance and slowly, he slipped a finger inside. Lindsey let out a long moan. A sound different from the silent sighs and frustrated breaths that had haunted him for nearly two years. A sound that made Angel’s desire surge.

— "Keep going. Tell me what you want," the vampire prompted, quickly inserting a second finger.

Lindsey gritted his teeth, unable to stifle a louder sound as Angel's fingers stretched him.

— "Just... Fuck... your fingers..."

— "Yes…? What do you want me to do with them?"

— "You know..." Lindsey gasped, his voice breaking. "Curl them."

Angel smiled and obeyed, easily finding Lindsey’s prostate.

This time, a small cry escaped his throat, and Angel felt his own cock throb at the sound.

He did it again. And again. Relentlessly stroking that spot inside that sent Lindsey trembling and panting, his body writhing against the restraints as pleasure built steadily within him.

— "Hey, open your eyes," Angel ordered when he saw Lindsey had closed his eyelids. "Look at yourself."

Lindsey obeyed, discovering his flushed, panting face in the mirror.

— "See that?" Angel whispered. "Your body moving on its own to meet my fingers? Your cock standing hard against your belly?"

Lindsey nodded, blushing even more as he watched his own desperate movements, alone in the mirror. Yes, he could see it. He could see everything.

— "Angel... Stop, I... I can’t hold it..." he breathed, at his breaking point.

Angel smiled, enjoying the need creeping into Lindsey's tone.

— "Shall we move on to the real thing, then?"

Lindsey shivered, his throat tight.

— "Yes, please," he murmured, unable to say more.

— "Meaning? What do you want, Lin? Say it. Precisely."

Lindsey let out a frustrated breath, straining against the handcuffs. He closed his eyes again, just for a second.

— "Your cock. I want your cock inside me."

Satisfied, Angel smiled and gently withdrew his fingers. Without a word, he positioned himself behind him and pushed in. Lindsey moaned, feeling his body slowly open around the intrusion. His muscles twitched, adjusting to the larger presence, to the familiar burn of being filled. But Angel stopped partway, his fingers gripping Lindsey’s hips.

— "Talk," he asked again. "I want to hear your voice while I penetrate you deep inside. Describe everything you feel..."

Lindsey swallowed, trying to clear his thoughts despite the overwhelming sensation.

— "I... It’s... You’re hard and cold but I’m so warm and..."

He closed his eyes briefly, then reopened them on his reflection in the mirror. His face was flushed, mouth ajar, and his body seemed to vibrate with tension. A soft whimper escaped him again when Angel pulled back an inch before pushing further, then all the way in.

— "What now?" Angel inquired, moving slightly, just enough to remind him how far he was inside him.

— "Fuck..." Lindsey gasped. "I... I can feel you so deep. All the way up to..." he began, forgetting he couldn’t point at anything with his cuffed hands.

Angel placed his hand on his lower abdomen, just above his cock.

— "Up to there?"

Lindsey nodded, a shiver running down his spine as he felt Angel’s firm hand pressing on his stomach.

— "Yes... Like you’re filling all the space inside me."

A low growl rumbled from Angel’s chest. He pulled out again, this time almost completely, then slammed back in, deeper, more possessive.

Lindsey let out a hoarse cry, his head falling back. Angel’s hand on his belly seemed to amplify everything.

— "Fuck!"

Angel tightened his grip, his arousal spiking from Lindsey’s raw, unfiltered reactions. He picked up the pace slightly, aiming for the perfect angle.

— "And now? Describe it all to me. Need to know what's happening inside you."

Lindsey jerked, a broken moan escaping his throat as Angel’s cock hit that exact spot inside him, sending a blinding heat through his core.

— "Oh fuck!"

That was all he managed to say, caught in searing pleasure that intensified with each movement. Angel increased the weight of his hand on Lindsey’s belly, making him feel like he was pressed from everywhere, trapped. Then he repeated his thrust, slower this time, savoring the shiver that ran through his lover.

— "Words, Lin, words... Excite me with your voice."

Lindsey was shaking from head to toe, unable to resist the sensations crashing over him. He shut his eyes briefly, trying to find words.

— "You’re driving me crazy..." His voice was faint, cracking. "Your hand… Feel crushed… And inside… Right there... yes..."

Angel picked up the rhythm again and braced his palm harder on his abdomen, accentuating the pressure even more.

— "Like that?"

— "Yes… It’s... fuck... like a shockwave... It pulses... Every time… I..." Lindsey's words dissolved into incoherent sounds as Angel's movements grew more and more intense.

Angel groaned. He wanted to hear it all. Every nuance of pleasure, every tremor in his shaky voice as he let go.

— "Keep talking, baby. Every detail."

Lindsey trembled under him, his breath ragged.

— "Angel... I... I can’t... Angel..." he let out, eyes fluttering shut under the sensations.

Angel growled and grabbed him firmly by the hair, forcing him to lift his head to meet his reflection in the mirror.

— "Hey, look at yourself, Lindsey. Look at what you become when I fuck you, sweetheart."

Lindsey gasped, mesmerized by the sight. His own body, still alone, exposed, surrendered to Angel’s profound movements. Flushed cheeks, parted lips, glistening cock, and that flicker of desperation mixed with ecstasy in his eyes.

— "Talk, Lindsey. Talk. Let me hear you." Angel coaxed again.

With his free hand, he wrapped his fingers around Lindsey’s cock, gently squeezing it.

Lindsey felt heat rising again as he already struggled to keep control. Angel’s deep thrusts and firm grip around his cock were pushing him so fast toward the edge.

— "I... I don’t know... It’s... it’s so fucking good I could die, Angel..."

Angel smiled, continuing to hit just the right spot with devastating precision.

— "You’re gonna come, aren’t you?"

Lindsey nodded, unable to respond otherwise.

— "Then come for me, my Lindsey," Angel whispered in his ear. "Loud. I want to hear you break…"

And all he had to do was add one last precise push for Lindsey to finally give in with a cry that echoed through the room. He came hard, each spasm heightened by the slow, deliberate strokes Angel kept giving him, drawing out his orgasm until he collapsed, supported only by the cuffs and Angel’s hand on his belly.

Defeated, Lindsey lifted his eyes to his reflection in the mirror. His mouth was half-open, expression wrecked by intense pleasure.

— "You’re beautiful, my love," Angel murmured.

And without waiting for him to fully recover, he resumed thrusting, this time harder, barely giving him a moment to catch his breath. Lindsey gasped at the roughness, his back arching. It was brutal now. Primal.

— "Tell me..." Angel’s voice was raw, broken by pleasure. "Tell me what you feel when I take you like this..."

Lindsey opened his mouth, but no sound came. He was still reeling from his orgasm, his body straining under the intensity of the rhythm Angel was now inflicting on him. He bit his lip. He could barely think, but he obeyed, his voice still hoarse from the ecstasy he’d just felt.

— "It’s... violent. And hard. Burning. It hurts."

Angel frowned, concern flickering across his features.

— "Too much?"

Lindsey shook his head, his voice breaking on a deep moan.

— "No..." He closed his eyes, surrendering to the wave of sensation crushing him. "It’s perfect. I like it."

— "Great. Don’t forget the safe word," Angel reminded him, his fingers digging into his flesh as he sped up again, using almost all his vampire strength for once.

His cock was driving in and out with ragged urgency, his hand pressing down on Lindsey’s lower belly to maintain the pressure. To make him feel.

Lindsey screamed.

And Angel knew he wouldn’t last much longer. Lindsey’s tight heat around him, that burning warmth swallowing him with every motion. And his voice - God, his voice, finally freed after so long.

— "More..." he urged.

He wanted to hear more of Lindsey, again and again.

Lindsey shivered, a sheen of sweat covering his skin. He too knew Angel was close, he could sense it in the way his body tensed, in the desperate rhythm of his thrusts. He moaned. His own cock was already hard and aching again, even though he’d just come moments before.

— "God, you’re so violent... " he gasped. "So deep... And your cock is huge... Fuck, I can feel it swelling inside me... Feels like you’re gonna split me open. I can’t even think anymore..."

— "Fuck, Lin… That’s good…" Angel growled, his voice low and shaking. "So fucking good… Fuck…"

Then Angel groaned his name, his control shattering as he pushed deep one last time, drowning inside him. His entire body tensed as he came, and Lindsey felt it. He felt every spasm, every pulse. And that achingly intimate sensation of being filled. Completely.

Unable to resist, Angel greedily sank his fangs into the curve of Lindsey’s shoulder, losing himself in the taste of his lover’s blood as he rode the waves of his orgasm. Finally, he slumped slightly over Lindsey’s back, pressing a tender kiss to the nape of his neck.

Then, slowly, he lifted his head. His gaze landed on Lindsey’s reflection in the mirror. His lover’s mouth was parted, his eyes half-closed. His cock was hard, straining against his stomach, still covered with the cum from his first climax. Angel smiled.

— "Open your eyes," he ordered in a soft voice. "Look at yourself."

Lindsey obeyed and a rush of heat spread through him.

His raised arms were marked by strain, every muscle trembling from the rough treatment Angel had just inflicted on him. A thin stream of blood ran from his shoulder — the reminder of his lover’s bite. And lower, his cock stood flushed and throbbing with unfulfilled desire.

— "Well?" Angel grinned as Lindsey blushed at his own sight. "You haven’t told me… What was it like, feeling me come inside you?"

Lindsey swallowed, shivering at the feeling of Angel’s cock still buried deep within him.

— "It was… intense, like always," he murmured.

— "Details, love. Details."

Lindsey breathed.

— "Well… Your cock is cold but… now it’s lukewarm. Almost hot. I feel it… inside me," he said, his voice low and slightly choppy. "Your cum and your cock. Both. It feels like it’s too much for my body. Like it’s going to explode from the inside. I’m filled. Completely filled… by you."

At those words, Angel felt his own cock throb again inside Lindsey, who moaned at the sensation.

— "But you haven’t come," Angel noted.

— "I’m about to. I can feel you swelling again. I can’t hold it, it’s… it’s too much. Too big. Too full…"

Angel smiled. And withdrew.

— "Fuck, Angel!" Lindsey protested, his wrists tugging instinctively against the cuffs as a wave of emptiness hit him.

He squirmed, trying to push back against Angel, his body desperately searching to regain that connection, but the vampire held him in place.

— "Shhh… Let me," Angel told him.

And with a gentle gesture, he spread Lindsey’s legs wider, then his ass cheeks, making the emptiness even more palpable. Almost unbearable.

— "Look."

Lindsey looked up again, refocusing on the mirror. And his breath caught.

A thin trickle of cum was sliding from between his cheeks, drawing a wet line along his inner thigh. His legs were still trembling, open, offered. And his chest, dotted with faint red marks, rose and fell in shuddering breaths, each dragging him a little closer to the point of no return.

— "Take your time. Admire how beautiful you are."

Lindsey panted. His cock, already so hard, seemed to throb even more. His hands gripped the chain of the cuffs again as his body moved instinctively. But every motion seemed to add another dimension to the erotic vision before him. A drop of precum beaded at the tip of his cock in spite of himself. What had Angel said again? To come while seeing only yourself? Lindsey wasn’t far off. It was out of the question. He concentrated, straining to pull himself together.

— "Angel… Fuck… Do something!"

— “You know, since you’re the one tied up, you’re meant to be the submissive one this time…" Angel pointed out. "You’re not supposed to give orders. And I’m almost sure you said you would even beg…"

— "Really? Don’t remember that…"

Angel chuckled at the cockiness.

— "You’re sure? Want me to make you remember?" he asked. "Because I have all the time in the world. I think I can keep watching you wait like this for hours… Just with a stroke now and then, to keep the heat rising…"

— "No, no! I remember, I remember!" Lindsey quickly replied, his voice cracking with desperation. "And… And I beg you! Please… Do something now, please… Don’t leave me like this…"

Angel grinned, satisfied, and instantly moved in front of him. Without warning, he captured Lindsey's lips in a kiss that was anything but gentle. His hand slid into his hair, fisting it without care, while the other clamped around his waist, fingers digging in like he owned him. He pressed in close, their chests and hips sliding together in a brutal, deliberate friction. Lindsey’s heart tightened under such possessiveness from Angel. The kiss wasn’t soft. It was hard, hungry, passionate. It was like a punishment and a reward at the same time. It was a kiss that left him panting and craving for more.

Breaking the embrace with a bite on Lindsey’s lower lip, Angel retrieved the pocketknife from where he had left it. He didn’t waste time and knelt, immediately sliding it straight down Lindsey’s inner thigh, who sighed.

Almost instantly, the blade bit into his flesh and a thin line of blood bloomed slowly on the skin, then followed the same path Angel’s cum had taken down his spread thighs.

 — "Ha…" Lindsey let out in a trembling whisper.

— "Does it hurt?" Angel asked.

— "Yeah… but it’s good," Lindsey answered, his gaze fixed on the sight of the blood mixing with the traces of their earlier passion.

Angel followed the slow trail of red with his eyes, then leaned in and captured it with his tongue.

— "More?" he murmured, voice rough.

— "Yes. Please."

Lindsey held his breath as a new cut, deeper than the last, opened under the vampire’s precise touch. Blood ran down. More than before. And Angel immediately swallowed it. Only to do it again on the other thigh, even more severe, making Lindsey let out a small cry. It was overwhelming. Pain kept him from coming while pleasure was inexorably rising up.

Gradually, the blade inched closer to its true target. Shivering, Lindsey forced himself to look up, focusing on the mirror where the knife didn’t reflect.

For several minutes, Angel maintained the tension, circling around Lindsey’s cock and balls. Then finally, he pressed the blade lightly. Just enough for Lindsey to feel the sharp edge graze his skin. Not enough to cut, but enough to send an icy jolt through his entire body.

— "Tell me how it feels," Angel pressed again.

Lindsey opened his mouth, struggling to find words through the haze of sensation. His breath shook, a mix of desire and sheer anticipation.

— "It’s… intense. Feels like every nerve is lit up."

Slowly, Angel dragged the blade up along Lindsey’s cock, grazing the skin with precise control. Lindsey shuddered, his fingers tightening around the cuffs.

— "Don’t move," Angel reminded him, shifting the blade away just slightly.

Lindsey nodded, trying to control his body that no longer seemed to obey him.

— "Are you okay?" Angel inquired. "You’re shaking…"

— "I’m… scared. But I want it. I want it so bad."

Angel smiled, and the knife returned, simply following the curve of Lindsey’s cock.

Then, he rotated his wrist delicately, and this time the blade nicked the skin. Just a scratch, a firmer caress. Lindsey moaned violently, his body arching under the sensation. Blood welled up instantly, tracing a scarlet line down his taut skin.

— "Angel!"

— “I’m here,” the vampire replied immediately in a reassuring voice.

He observed the small wound. It was nothing more than a gash. Then, without waiting, he lowered his head and gently ran his tongue over it.

Lindsey almost lost himself.

— "Oh fuck…" he breathed.

He closed his eyes, overwhelmed by the contrast between the sharp metal and the moist softness of Angel's tongue.

— "Tell me what you feel," the vampire urged again, his voice low and velvet-smooth.

Lindsey struggled to answer, his chest heaving with intensity.

— "It… it stings, it burns… but it’s… fuck, it’s good."

— "How far do you want to go?"

Lindsey opened his eyes, meeting his own reflection. He saw himself, on the edge of ecstasy.

— "As far as you," he whispered, his gaze locking with Angel’s for a moment before turning back to the mirror.

The vampire didn’t hesitate. The blade returned to Lindsey’s cock. Subtle. Delicate. Light. For several minutes, Angel went just up and down, and around, teasing, playing with the sensitivity.  Then, with a precise movement, he pressed the tip of the blade, making a tiny incision on the head of Lindsey’s cock — a barely there cut.

Lindsey jolted again in a mixture of pain and pleasure, his head tilting back with a deep moan. Fuck, that felt good.

The next instant, Angel let the knife fall and closed his mouth around Lindsey’s cock. His cool tongue slid over the small wound and he sucked.

Lindsey exploded.

His climax hit him hard, brutal, devastating. It obliterated all coherent thought and his body contracted violently, pain and pleasure merging in a shockwave that made him tremble from head to toe. A raw cry escaped him, tearing at his throat as he succumbed to the most intense orgasm of his life. His back arched, his wrists pulling against the cuffs in an uncontrollable spasm, his thighs clenching under the sensation that surged through him.

Angel held him firmly, one hand gripping his hip, and he sucked again. Lindsey screamed. Tears were streaming down his cheeks, uncontrollable as the sensation was too intense, too absolute. A sob slipped out. And Angel was still sucking and swallowing — a mixture of blood and cum — prolonging his ecstasy until Lindsey collapsed minutes later, drained, trembling, overwhelmed by an orgasm that had swept him beyond himself.

Breathless, Lindsey opened his eyes. His reflection showed a man defeated, exhausted, conquered.

— "Red," he murmured in a hoarse, barely audible voice.

Chapter Text

— "Red?" Angel repeated, freezing.

Still on his knees in front of Lindsey, he felt the excitement instantly vanish, swept away by a surge of fear. It was the first time Lindsey had ever used the safe word...

Immediately, Angel looked up. Lindsey was slowly regaining his breath, his face damp with tears, cheeks flushed from the intensity of what he had just experienced. He looked completely spent.

— "Lindsey? Lin, sweetheart, are you okay?" Angel asked, his voice gentle but urgent. "I'm sorry... Was it too much? Are you hurt?"

— "No, I..." Lindsey took a deep breath, then murmured in a hoarse voice, "My shoulders... You have to untie me. Now."

Angel reacted instantly. He leapt to his feet, grabbed the chain and quickly unlocked the cuffs around Lindsey’s wrists, supporting his arms to prevent any injury. Slowly, Lindsey let them drop with a groan, his legs a bit trembling.

— "Easy, easy..." Angel whispered soothingly as he slipped a hand behind his back to steady him.

As soon as he was free, Lindsey immediately brought his hands to his aching shoulders, trying to ease the pain.

— "You okay?" Angel asked again, watching every flicker of discomfort in his lover’s face.

Lindsey gave a small nod, but his eyes were closed and his breathing still ragged.

— "Yeah, I’m okay," he confirmed a few moments later as he opened them.

There was no panic, no fear in his gaze, just deep exhaustion. His face lit up with a smile that mixed satisfaction and fatigue, and he looked directly into Angel’s eyes.

— "I think I’ve earned a massage, haven’t I?"

Angel smiled too, relieved.

— "A massage or anything you want," he promised, brushing his fingers along Lindsey’s jawline. "But first, how about a shower? Some hot water will do you good."

— "Yeah…" agreed Lindsey before frowning. "Fuck, I think you’re going to have to carry me…"

Angel chuckled.

— "Not a problem! I can do that every day!"

---

The scent of soap and lavender still lingered in the air, and the mattress dipped under their weight. The hot water had worked its magic, and Angel’s expert massage had soothed the ache in Lindsey’s muscles.

Now, they lay together in bed, entwined, still slightly damp from the shower.

Comfortably propped against the pillows, Angel was tenderly trailing his fingers down Lindsey’s back, lightly grazing the still-warm skin with his nails.

— "You were incredible, you know..." he murmured, his voice tinged with admiration and an underlying desire he didn’t bother to hide. "You were talking... so much... It was incredible. You never talked that much... before..."

Lindsey let out a small laugh, his own fingers drawing idle circles on Angel’s stomach.

— "Guess I made up for all that silence," he said simply. "For all those times I just wanted to say ‘more’ or ‘harder’… and couldn’t."

A smile crossed Angel’s face, but it quickly faded as he grew serious again. He looked down at Lindsey, a worried crease on his brow.

— "Are you in a lot of pain?" he asked, concern written across his face.

Lindsey hesitated, then met his gaze.

— "Well, yeah," he admitted sincerely.

— "I..." Angel began, ready to apologize or grab something to help.

— "But not more than I wanted," Lindsey cut in firmly. "I regret nothing. That was the best orgasm of my life. And your massage was amazing too."

Angel blinked, then smiled, a little relieved.

— "So you’re really okay?" he asked anyway.

— "Yes, don’t worry," Lindsey assured him, then added with a mischievous grin, "Though… the problem will be tomorrow. I’m warning you now: I’m going to be so fucking annoying and complain all day."

Angel chuckled.

— "I don’t care. I haven’t heard you complain out loud in almost two years…"

Lindsey smiled too, then pushed himself up slightly to kiss Angel’s cheek. He closed his eyes briefly, enjoying the cool feel of his skin.

— "I love you," he murmured, content.

— "I love you too," Angel replied. "You’re perfect."

— ""And tomorrow, I’ll be... perfectly exasperating," Lindsey predicted with a teasing smile.

They fell silent for a while, both lost in thought as they kept softly touching each other. Lindsey let his gaze drift to the mirror, a strange warmth spreading through him at the memory of what he had seen. He never would have guessed just seeing his own reflection could be such a turn-on.

— "Do you think Sienna could make a mirror that would reflect you?" he asked suddenly. "I mean… maybe it already exists. Wolfram & Hart’s lab has invented so many things..."

Angel raised an eyebrow, amused.

— "Did that little session give you some ideas, sweetheart?" he teased.

Lindsey blushed slightly, a bit embarrassed by how transparent he was.

— "Absolutely not!" he protested falsely offended. "I was thinking about… your hair! A mirror would help you with your hair!"

— "Sure, you were thinking about my hair…" repeated Angel with a knowing smile. "And nothing… naughty… crossed your mind?"

— "Of course not! I’m always… well-behaved… and innocent, and..."

— "Innocent? You???" Angel burst out laughing.

Lindsey followed him, then raised his hands in surrender.

— "Okay, okay, I admit it…" he declared, then grinned playfully. "I want one for Christmas."

— "I thought you wanted a new sword."

— "Well, now I want a mirror instead. A big one. We’ll hang it right in front of our bed," Lindsey pictured it with a broad gesture.

He was already imagining all they could do… Nothing innocent, of course! A mirror that reflected Angel too and not only him… The simple thought made him blush.

Angel let out another amused laugh, clearly aware of what was in Lindsey’s mind.

— "You do know Christmas is more than two months away, almost three?"

— "All the more reason to plan ahead if Sienna has to invent it," Lindsey said with a shrug, a smirk playing on his lips. Then, after a moment’s reflection, his expression softened. "Though maybe by then you’ll be human. And a regular mirror will be enough for revenge."

Angel didn’t reply right away, and silence fell. He turned his gaze away, frowning slightly.

— "Angel?" Lindsey murmured after a few minutes. "Are you okay?"

— "Yeah, yeah..." the vampire replied.

But his eyes looked far away, and his voice rang false. Lindsey sensed it immediately and straightened slightly, placing a hand on his lover’s chest.

— "Hey. Talk to me. What’s wrong?"

Angel bit his lip, hesitating.

— "It’s just... becoming human... Do you still think it’s a good idea?"

Lindsey blinked, incredulous.

— "What?"

— "Well... Now that you’ve got your voice back, doesn’t it change everything?" Angel asked gently. "Don’t you want to... go home?"

— "Go home? Now?" Lindsey replied, surprised.

— "I mean... you’ll be able to fully go back to your work. Sing. And..." Angel trailed off, shaking his head. "I could keep going alone... and..."

Lindsey cut him off immediately.

— "We decided to do this together, Angel. That was the deal. I’m not going back alone. Either I stay, or we go home together. But that…" He paused, studying the vampire’s face. "That will only happen if you give me a very good reason why you don’t want to become human anymore."

Angel opened his mouth, hesitated, then closed it again.

— "I... I don’t know, Lindsey…" he finally answered.

— "You don’t know? Wait… you’re seriously hesitating?" Lindsey whispered, stunned. "Why? What has changed?"

Angel remained silent for a moment, searching for the right words, unsure if he should share his doubts.

— "I... I’m afraid I won’t be enough anymore..." he eventually admitted. "That I won’t be able to offer you… what you deserve… What you desire..."

Lindsey frowned, thinking. It took him a moment before he replied.

— "Are you talking about sex?" he finally asked, a little puzzled.

Angel gave a small, sheepish smile.

— "Well, not entirely, but... partly. I know you like... slight extreme play... and when I bite you and..." He paused, gathering his thoughts. "There are a lot of things I probably won’t be able to do anymore, as a human..."

Lindsey’s gaze softened, and he gently cupped Angel’s cheek.

— "Angel. Liam. We’re married. I love you for more than sex..."

— "I know, but... it’s still important, in a relationship…"

— "You’re worrying for nothing!" Lindsey cut him off. "You’ve always been perfect. Whether in pain or tenderness. And there are so many things you do to me that drive me crazy and for which you don’t need to be a vampire at all."

Angel gave a faint smile, but his gaze was still worried.

— "It’s not just that, Lin. I’ll be… weaker, less powerful... I won’t be able to protect you..."

Lindsey frowned again.

— "I don’t need to be protected!" he protested.

— "You almost died not even two days ago!"

Lindsey opened his mouth to protest but closed it almost immediately. Angel wasn’t wrong.

— "Well… maybe…" he admitted. "But that’s one of the risks we agreed to take! And when you become human, those risks will disappear!"

But Angel shook his head, still not convinced.

— "We’ll both be mortal. So no, they won’t ‘disappear’… on the contrary, in fact…"

Lindsey sighed.

— "Yes, they will," he assured in a serious tone. "You’ll see, we will become two retired husbands, just doing their jobs during the week and boring stuff on the weekend in their garden… complaining about the weather or politics…"

This time, Angel chuckled.

— "Yeah, sure… We’ll sure have time between you defending criminals and me running a detective agency that stand against demons… That’s the safest retirement plan!"

— "Hey, nothing is perfect!"

Lindsey looked at him intently for a few moments.

— "I want to hear your heartbeat," he added with a soft smile. "Make you taste my cooking—even if it’s not great. I want to eat ice cream by the ocean in the middle of the afternoon. And watch you get a sunburn while I stand by your side, stunned by your beauty under the sunlight."

Angel stared at him, a bit fascinated. Lindsey’s smile was part sincere, part mocking.

— "I’m the insecure one…" Lindsey went on. "The one who thinks he doesn’t deserve to be loved by you. You’re the one who reassures me. And you’ll be enough. More than enough."

A real smile spread across Angel’s face.

— "Even when you tease me, you’re perfect," he whispered, his doubts slowly fading with Lindsey’s soft voice.

— "Well… You’ll tell me that again tomorrow..." Lindsey replied with a smirk.

---

Lindsey hadn’t lied.

They had left Brasov only three hours ago, and it was already the fourth break he’d called for. To stretch his legs, get a drink, or take a painkiller. Feeling responsible even though he knew his lover had no regrets, Angel hadn’t objected once, but he was starting to wonder if they’d ever actually make it to Rome…

Shielded from the sun inside the vehicle, the vampire watched Lindsey take a few steps on the grass. He was walking slowly, one hand resting on his hip. His shoulders were still a bit sore, but he’d admitted it was mainly his thighs that were causing him pain, despite the bandages Angel had carefully applied before they left the hotel. And even in the loosest pair of jeans he owned, he hadn’t been able to avoid the fabric rubbing against the cuts on his skin.

Lindsey sighed, then headed back toward the car. They had to keep going.

— "Sorry I took so long, we can go," he said as he sat back in the passenger seat, legs spread in an attempt to ease the ache.

Angel looked him over.

— "No problem. You okay?" he asked, for what had to be the tenth time that day.

Lindsey nodded.

— "I’ll survive, don’t panic," he replied with a mocking smile. It was the same answer he’d been giving him since they left. It had almost become a running joke…

Nevertheless, as the miles went by, Lindsey’s patience thinned, and his discomfort turned into bad temper. He kept sighing, shifting positions every two minutes, cursing his jeans, the car, the bumpy road, and the fact that he couldn’t even properly complain because Angel kept looking at him with infuriating indulgence. Before apologizing for being so irritable…

— "We’re stopping," Angel suddenly declared.

— "What?" Lindsey turned toward him, surprised.

— "We’re going to find a hotel for the night. Then, we’ll continue tomorrow."

— "But it’s not late, we can still go on!" Lindsey protested.

But Angel shook his head.

— "I’m not driving another mile with you in this state."

Lindsey opened his mouth to argue, but no valid argument came to mind. He grumbled something unintelligible before sinking back into his seat with his arms crossed, sulking. After a few minutes in silence, his own voice made him raise his head, filling the car from the small USB drive hooked to the stereo.

"Livin’ with me, it ain’t easy,
But I do it every day
And sometimes, even now,
I wanna run away.
But there you are
You’re trying to please me,
And you stand your ground.
That’s more than I deserve…

I’ve taken more than I’ve been givin’.

And I’ve taken for granted this life I’m livin’.

And I don’t know why heaven above

Blessed me with your sweet love.

I know I never tell you what you’re worth

That’s 'cause it’s more than I deserve."

Lindsey sighed as he heard his own words.

— "Sorry. I’m being unbearable..."

— "Yeah, I can confirm that," Angel replied.

But he grinned and simply took Lindsey’s hand in his, squeezing it gently. Slightly surprised, Lindsey looked down at their intertwined fingers for a moment, then gave a small, quiet smile.

It felt so damn good to be loved. Despite his flaws, temper, grumbling. Ever since he’d gotten his voice back, that feeling had returned tenfold.

They found a small hotel halfway down the road, where Angel was finally able to help Lindsey take off his jeans and check his bandages. Lindsey didn’t protest, dropping onto the bed with a relieved sigh, clearly grateful to no longer have to endure the rubbing of clothes against his wounded skin.

---

The next day, the rest of the drive went much more smoothly. Lindsey was feeling a lot better, and couldn’t stop himself from singing along every time one of his songs played in the car. When they finally reached Rome in the early evening, he was walking almost normally, only slightly hindered by the deeper cuts, and displaying that annoying energy that meant he was ready to enjoy the night.

The place where they were supposed to meet looked a lot like the Bronze, that club where Angel had often ended up with Buffy and her friends, years ago. The lighting was dim, the music loud but not deafening, and the crowd scattered between the bar, the dance floor, and the elevated tables.

— "And now, we wait for Giles and Buffy," Angel declared, settling at the bar before ordering drinks.

Lindsey stretched and gave a sly smile, swirling the ice in his glass as he shot Angel a sidelong glance.

— "So… What do you think her reaction will be to our reunion?"

— "You mean about you, right? Depends. Are you planning on being insufferable with her?"

Lindsey laughed and raised his hands in innocence.

— "Me? Never. I’m an angel, always kind, and sweet," he assured before taking a sip of his cocktail, unfazed.

Angel couldn’t help smiling but rolled his eyes.

Despite himself, he felt a hint of anxiety about this reunion. When he’d said goodbye to Buffy, he hadn’t expected to ever see her again. That chapter was closed. But now, with their meeting drawing near, he felt a twinge of nervousness rising, unsure of how to act.
He was going to see Giles again too. Although things had ended amicably between them last time, Angel knew the shadow of Angelus still lingered over.

— "Wanna dance?" Lindsey asked suddenly, seeing his husband lost into dark thoughts.

Angel hesitated, but Lindsey’s gentle yet mischievous smile made him give in.

— "Okay... but just for a bit…" he complied.

He wasn’t one for public displays on a dance floor—especially in a crowded nightclub. But he let himself be pulled in, swaying to the rhythm of the music, enjoying the familiar feel of Lindsey’s body close to his own. The atmosphere was relaxed, and Lindsey was clearly soaking it in, knowing full well how rare it was for Angel to agree to dance at all.

They had been dancing together for a few minutes when Angel caught movement near the entrance. A group had just come in, and among them...

— "Buffy’s here," he announced.

Lindsey raised a brow.

— "Wait… did you smell her?" he asked, half-incredulous, half-curious.

Angel rolled his eyes.

— "No, I saw her, dumbass. She’s right there."

Lindsey didn’t bother turning around. Instead, he stepped even closer, pressing his body against Angel’s in a slow, sensual motion. Without the slightest hesitation, his hands slid down to his lover’s hips… and then lower.

— "Hey! What the hell are you doing?!" Angel exclaimed as he felt Lindsey grab his ass without any shame.

— "Marking my property," Lindsey retorted with a provocative smile, before running his tongue up Angel’s neck from base to jaw in a long, deliberate lick.

— "Lindsey!" Angel protested, trying to push him back slightly to make him stop his bullshit.

But Buffy had already spotted them and was walking over, flanked by Giles and Spike. When she reached them, she crossed her arms.

— "Hi, Angel," she greeted.

Angel opened his mouth, but Lindsey was faster. He turned around immediately, a wide grin on his face.

— "Buffy. Good to see you again…"

Buffy narrowed her eyes, clearly unsure how to respond.

— "Yeah… let’s put it this way," she replied slowly, looking him over. "I see you can talk."

Lindsey smirked.

— "Yes. I talk, I sing, I suck..."

— "Lindsey!" Angel reacted, elbowing him in the ribs a little harder than he meant to.

— "Ow!" Lindsey yelped, rubbing his side with a pout.

Angel shot him a warning look.

— "Seriously? Where is the ‘kind and sweet angel’?"

Behind Buffy, Spike was doing his best not to burst out laughing, while Giles looked puzzled, brows furrowed. He was the only one in this group who hadn’t met Lindsey yet.

Buffy sighed and gestured toward a quieter corner.

— "Come on, let’s talk."

— "Good to see you again, cowboy!" Spike exclaimed with a grin, giving Lindsey a friendly slap on the shoulder. "Glad you still know how to make an entrance. This is gonna be bloody entertaining."

Chapter Text

Following Buffy, the small group left the dance floor and settled at a table slightly apart, where the music was a little quieter. Angel, his brow furrowed, wasn’t taking his eyes off his husband. Lindsey, obviously pleased with his little number, was wearing a satisfied expression.

— "I’m Lindsey McDonald," he announced, extending his hand towards Giles.

The Watcher gave a brief handshake, eyeing him cautiously over the rim of his glasses.

— "Angel’s annoying boyfriend…" Buffy muttered under her breath.

Lindsey grinned brightly.

— "Oh, more than that now!" he said proudly, raising his hand right in front of his face, flashing the ring on his finger with a triumphant smirk.

As Buffy took a step back, narrowing her eyes, Angel ran a hand over his face. If he could’ve sighed, he would have. Damn, these next few days were going to be rough…

— "Seriously?!" Spike exclaimed, his gaze fixed on Lindsey’s ring.

— "For better or worse…" Lindsey confirmed with a dazzling smile.

He interlaced his fingers with Angel’s, ostentatiously placing their joined hands on the table.

— "Well… congrats, I guess," Spike said. "Never thought you’d stop brooding long enough to get hitched, Angel…"

— "I’m irresistible, that’s why," Lindsey declared with aplomb. "And I’m a much better ride, too," he added, staring provocatively at Buffy.

She tilted her head, crossing her arms.

— "Guess Angel’s standards have changed since the brooding days," she noted with an unimpressed expression.

Lindsey’s grin widened.

— "Changed? You mean improved. He traded guilt for orgasms. You’re welcome."

With his free hand, Angel pinched the bridge of his nose, reaching the end of his patience. Gently, he squeezed Lindsey’s hand to let him know it was time to calm things down.

— "We’re not here to talk about our wedding," he said firmly, speaking for the first time since they’d sat down.

Lindsey opened his mouth, ready with a comeback, but thought better of it. With a gentle smile, he simply squeezed Angel’s hand back, respecting the boundary. For now.

Adjusting his glasses, Giles seized the relative silence to steer the conversation back on track.

— "Alright… Let’s get to why you’re here. According to Wesley, you need to translate a text formed with symbols in a circular pattern, right?"

Angel nodded.

— "We’re looking for a way to reverse vampirism, to make me human again. Wesley had started deciphering the symbols but hit a wall. He thought you might be better equipped to continue."

— "Well, we have indeed amassed a rather impressive library since the Council… exploded. But I haven’t had as much time as I would’ve liked to dive into it. Rome has been… somewhat overwhelmed by a string of supernatural incidents."

— "Toe-eating demons," Spike clarified with a grin. "They love nightclubs. Lots of feet, tired people, perfect atmosphere for hunting."

Lindsey raised an eyebrow, clearly amused.

— "So that was true? Podophagous demons… How classy… To think that in Los Angeles, we stick to the Devil and dragons."

— "Sorry if our monsters aren’t glamorous enough for you," Buffy retorted, crossing her arms again. "But if you’re up for volunteering as bait, feel free to keep dancing. This club is one of their favorite hunting grounds."

— "Sorry, having my toes devoured isn’t on today’s agenda… But if I do spot one of those demons, I’ll gladly point them toward a tastier target, and you seem like the obvious choice…" Lindsey said, eyeing the high heels Buffy was wearing.

— "Maybe you should avoid pissing off the Slayer… I’m every demon’s nightmare and I won’t hesitate…"

— "Ooh, scary…" Lindsey cut in. "‘Every demon’s worst nightmare…’ Is that your tagline? Like a battle cry? Do you shout it every time you meet a demon while brandishing your weapon?"

— "God, doesn’t he ever shut the fuck up?" Buffy asked Angel, who shook his head.

— "Well, not in the last two days…" the vampire replied. "Giles, please…"

Unbothered, Giles cleared his throat and resumed:

— "Regarding the text, what I’ve confirmed so far aligns with Wesley’s initial analysis. It’s an extremely ancient language, older than anything previously known. But that also means many languages derive from it, so translation is possible. From what I’ve managed to decipher, some symbols references concepts like life, death, and… blood. Potentially connected to vampiric transformation. But the translation is still too fragmentary to be sure. Let alone determine whether reversal is actually an option."

Angel straightened slightly in his chair, while Lindsey squeezed his hand a little tighter.

— "But… there’s a chance?" he asked, eyes locked on Giles.

— "I don’t know…" the Watcher replied carefully. "But it’s worth looking into. We’ve set up our base in a villa nearby. The accounts frozen after the Council’s collapse have been released, allowing us to reorganize. There are plenty of rooms. You can stay there during your time here."

Spike gave a sardonic smile.

— "The more the merrier…"

Buffy wrinkled her nose, clearly less than thrilled at the idea of putting up with Lindsey. For an instant, she considered suggesting they get a hotel, but one look from Giles shut that idea down. Great… no choice but to act like an adult apparently…

— "If I hear you snoring, you’ll end up with a stake through the heart. Even if you’re not a vampire," she threatened all the same.

— "Oh, snoring won’t be what you’ll hear, blondie," Lindsey replied with a wink, triggering another burst of laughter from Spike and a long-suffering look from Angel.

Giles rolled his eyes.

— "Well… That’s my cue. I’m far too old for this nonsense, and I’m not playing chaperone to anyone," he said, standing up. "We’ll talk tomorrow."

He waved to the small group and headed for the exit, leaving the two couples in a slightly awkward double-date atmosphere.

— "Wanna dance?" Lindsey asked Angel after a few minutes of silence.

Angel raised an eyebrow, his gaze drifting toward the dance floor where the memory of his husband’s very suggestive performance still lingered.

— "We already danced," he replied with a frown. "And I think the whole club remembers it."

— "You sure?" Lindsey replied innocently. "Because I don’t remember…"

Nearby, Spike was having similar issues.

— "Someone’s gotta stay alert in case a toe-eating demon goes berserk," Buffy insisted, scanning the crowd for any suspicious behavior.

— "Fine," Spike huffed, sounding a little put out.

He turned to Lindsey with a wry smile on his lips.

— "Looks like it’s just the two of us… Shall we, cowboy?"

Lindsey hesitated and glanced at Angel. The vampire frowned, then shrugged.

— "With pleasure," Lindsey finally replied to Spike.

They stood up in sync and headed for the dance floor together. Angel watched them go, his jaw slightly clenched.

A few moments later, Spike and Lindsey were moving to the rhythm of the music. Close. Their bodies were brushing, touching, seeking each other out in a disturbingly ambiguous choreography. Spike had taken the lead, guiding Lindsey with a hand on his hip, their movements synchronized, their gestures suggestive. Lindsey followed, playful, his smile gleaming under the dim lights.

Buffy leaned back in her chair, staring at the scene.

— "Are they trying to make us jealous?" she asked.

— "Looks like it…" Angel muttered, not taking his eyes off the duo.

— "Well… it’s not working," Buffy asserted.

— "Of course not," Angel lied.

He clenched his fingers on the edge of the table. On the dance floor, Lindsey was laughing, head tilted back, hips rolling in time with Spike’s. His hand lingered on Spike’s shoulder, occasionally drifting to his neck, their bodies brushing against each other with disturbing complicity.

Spike, who hadn’t missed a single word of Buffy and Angel’s exchange thanks to his vampiric hearing, smirked. He leaned in toward Lindsey, bringing their faces closer.

— "You should hear what they’re saying," he quipped. "It’s priceless."

— "Really?" Lindsey smiled.

— "Oh yeah," Spike grinned, all mischief. "Wait, let me…"

He leaned even closer to Lindsey, and slid his hand slowly over his hip, until he grabbed his ass boldly. Then he pulled closer with a jerk, until their pelvises met.

Lindsey let out a small laugh, a little surprised, a little embarrassed. But before he could react, Spike was leaning in to kiss him. Their lips brushed.

And in a flash, Angel was there.

He grabbed Lindsey by the arm and yanked him back, separating them abruptly. Buffy appeared behind him, frowning.

— "Seriously?!" she said to Spike, who raised his hands in innocence.

Angel, meanwhile, had turned to Lindsey.

— "What the hell are you doing?" he asked, his voice low and sharp, his gaze locked on his husband’s.

Lindsey raised his eyebrows, feigning innocence as well.

— "Well, we were dancing."

— "Oh yeah?" Angel replied coldly. "You kiss a lot of men when you dance?"

Lindsey blinked, caught off guard. Angel wasn’t yelling, but something in his voice - hurt, disappointment - brought Lindsey crashing back down to earth.

— "Listen…" the vampire continued. "I know a lot has happened lately but… Do you realize that since we got married barely a month ago, you’ve kissed two other men?"

Lindsey froze, then took a step back, in shock.

— "What? No… Well, I mean, yes, but… That’s not…"

His voice cracked.

— "It was just a joke, I just wanted… to get you on the dance floor, make you react. I didn’t think… I…"

— "I know," Angel murmured before shaking his head. "You were under his thrall with Dracula and it was absolutely not your fault but… I had to witness it. And now with Spike… I know you didn’t mean it as… as cheating, but… Please, just think about how I feel when you do things like that… even if it’s just a joke for you."

Lindsey’s eyes opened wide. The word cheating echoed in his head, louder than the music, louder than anything.

— "I… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean to… Please forgive me," he whispered.

— "I’m not mad," Angel said softly, looking into his husband’s bright eyes. He knew Lindsey was sincere and meant no harm. "Just understand you don’t have to make me jealous… I’m already yours."

— "I… it won’t happen again. Ever again. I promise."

— "Thank you, my love."

Angel slid his hand down Lindsey’s cheek, stroking it gently with his thumb. Then he moved slowly closer, their foreheads touching for a heartbeat before their lips met. At first, the kiss was tender, restorative, like a quiet promise. Then Lindsey clung to him, heart pounding, and their mouths joined more intensely, with the fever of regret and the desperate urgency of finding each other again. Their lips parted slowly, but neither moved away, as if caught in the gravity of each other.

— "Would you… would you dance with me?" Lindsey finally asked in a small voice, wrapping his arms around his neck.

Angel let out a soft laugh and pulled back a little.

— "You always get what you want, don’t you?" he said, holding out his hand.

They walked away to the center of the floor, leaving Spike to shrug and Buffy to sigh loudly.

— "If I see a demon trying to eat one of their toes tonight, I’ll let him."

Spike burst into laughter just as the first notes of the next song began to play though the room.

Time seemed to slow down around Angel and Lindsey, the world fading away until it was just the two of them on the dance floor. Angel slid one arm around Lindsey’s waist and gently pulled him closer. The music was slow, soft, and their bodies swayed gently in time with the song.

Lindsey, his eyes locked on Angel’s, let his fingers run to the nape of his neck. He was no longer trying to provoke. Just to give. To show. Angel smiled and drew him in a little tighter, as if he still might escape.

Lindsey tilted his head, his lips brushing against Angel’s ear.

— "The world was on fire… and no one could save me but you…" he sang in a breath, his soft voice layering gently over Chris Isaak’s.

Angel shivered. No teasing this time. No tension either. Just the low thrum of the music, their closeness, and Lindsey’s voice.

— "It’s strange what desire will make foolish people do…"

Lindsey pulled back just enough to meet his gaze. He brushed Angel’s cheek with a finger and continued, his voice tender:

— "I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you…"

He had a small, fragile smile on his lips. A smile of apology. Angel returned it and let his fingers thread through his hair. Lindsey’s smile widened, sensing in that simple touch all the raw, profound love that bound them together.

— "No, I don’t wanna fall in love… No, I don’t wanna fall in love… with you…"

— "Liar," Angel murmured with a grin.

Lindsey let out a soft laugh.

— "I think you had me at first sight, you know…" he added, his confession sounding both like an admission and a promise. "And after that, I did everything I could to get your attention."

— "Well, not sure trying to kill me was the right approach, but you certainly got my attention," Angel replied, teasing.

Lindsey chuckled, amused, then resumed singing softly, just for them. Angel closed his eyes, letting the sound of his husband’s voice carry him. Lindsey seemed to know every lyric by heart.

— "What a wicked game to play, to make me feel this way…"

Their movements remained slow, wrapped in the dim glow of the spotlights, their bodies attuned to one another.

— "What a wicked thing to do… to make me dream of you…"

Around, the crowd was dancing, laughing and drinking. But between the two of them, there was only this melody and their gentle swaying.

— "And I wanna fall in love… No, I wanna fall in love… with you…"

Without a word, Angel leaned in. He didn’t want to interrupt Lindsey’s singing, so he simply pressed a light kiss to his neck, meaning everything he couldn’t. It was soft, almost chaste. Then he let his emotions take over and delicately sank his fangs into his skin. He felt Lindsey flinch against him at the raw tenderness, and he tightened his grip around his body, as if he could merge into him.

“The world was on fire and no one could save me but you…”

Chapter Text

Dressed only in pajama bottoms, Angel had settled on the bed, his back resting against the pillows. On his lap, Lindsey’s laptop was open on the document Wesley had sent a few days earlier. The room Buffy and Spike had offered them was simple but cozy, with a small adjoining bathroom, and the dim light from the bedside lamp cast a warm glow throughout the space.

Angel was frowning, trying to focus on the translation Wesley had begun. But despite himself, his attention kept drifting toward the bathroom next door, where the sound of water and Lindsey’s humming made him want to join his husband in the shower, even though it was clearly too small for two grown men.

A few moments later, Lindsey stopped singing, and the water shut off. The soft creak of a door opening echoed barely a minute later, accompanied by a thin cloud of steam and the scent of shampoo wafting into the room. Angel looked up and froze.

Lindsey was standing in the doorway, his skin still damp and clad only in a short white towel tied low around his hips; a towel clearly chosen for its ability to conceal almost nothing. His wet hair framing his face, he was striking a pose, a wooden stake held high with dramatic flair, his brows furrowed and his gaze dark (or at least trying to be).

— "I’m the Slayer, every demon’s nightmare… and I won’t hesitate…" he declaimed in a deep voice, quoting Buffy’s words while waving the stake in a threatening gesture worthy of a B-movie actor.

Angel blinked, trying to keep a straight face. He pursed his lips, his mind struggling to process the sight of his husband — an earnest lawyer and a formidable fighter — now playing the Slayer with an enthusiasm irresistibly cute and absurd at the same time.

— "Lin, sweetheart… you forgot the blonde wig," he remarked in a false tone of reproach that poorly masked his smirk.

Lindsey rolled his eyes theatrically but said nothing, slowly moving toward Angel, stake still raised.

— "And the skirt…" the vampire added with amusement. "Though I guess that towel qualifies… But you’re also missing the heels… and… a hint of credibility."

Lindsey lowered the stake slightly, pouting at Angel’s remarks, who couldn’t hold it in any longer and burst into laughter at the sight of his discomfited expression.

— "Hey! You’re not supposed to laugh!” Lindsey exclaimed, feigning offense. "You’re supposed to be aroused..."

— "Aroused? Oh Lindsey, I’m always aroused when you come out of the shower half-naked…” Angel replied, his gaze trailing down over his husband’s chest where fine droplets of water still clung.

And despite the absurdity of the staging, the vampire felt a familiar warmth spread through his lower abdomen.

— "Really? Perfect. Because tonight, I want to make you scream. Loud…” Lindsey said, his voice losing humor to drop to a low, sensual tone that sent a shiver down the vampire’s spine.

— "Make me scream?" Angel repeated, setting the laptop on the nightstand.

It was obvious that he wasn’t going to be able to do anything productive tonight… After all, you had to know what your priorities were. And just then, his main one was now striding toward him, biting his lip in full provocation.

— "Yeah… I’m gonna make you feel so good you won’t be able to hold anything back…" Lindsey whispered.

Angel chuckled and shook his head.

— "Lindsey McDonald…" he said softly. "I know exactly what you’re trying to do, and it’s not going to work."

At least, that’s what he was trying to persuade himself… But Lindsey was coming closer, the towel threatening to slip with every step, and Angel felt all his blood rushing south. Of course it wasn’t going to work…

— "But… you said I aroused you. Don’t you love me anymore?" Lindsey quipped, sitting on the edge of the bed with a dramatic look and a hand over his heart as if deeply wounded.

Angel rolled his eyes.

— "Don’t be stupid, Lindsey. You just want me to scream so Buffy can hear."

— "Well… maybe," Lindsey admitted shamelessly, not even trying to deny it. He flashed him a sexy grin. "But it’ll still feel good…"

Angel gave him a look and shook his head again.

— "Not gonna happen."

— "Okay…" Lindsey sighed with an air of resignation. "Well… Fuck me then, and I’ll be the one screaming."

— "I’m not sure that’s a good idea either…" Angel objected.

— "What? Are we on a sex strike now? Seriously?” Lindsey asked, eyes widening in horror.

— "No but… promise me you won’t do anything… loud. Behave for once."

Lindsey immediately looked offended.

— "But I always behave well," he said, raising his hands in a gesture of innocence he’d been abusing a little lately.

Unable to restrain himself in front of so much bad faith, Angel burst out laughing.

— "Sure… You know this innocent face will never work, right? As a lawyer, you really should level up the way you lie in these situations. And for a ‘sweet and kind angel’, you’ve been a real evil…” he murmured in a voice whose tenderness contrasted with the words.

— "Well, I just wanted to… you know…"

— "What I know is you’re a pain in the ass. You’re lucky I love you."

Lindsey chuckled. Without asking for permission, he straddled Angel and leaned in to nibble his ear. The vampire let out a small cry of surprise, his hands instinctively resting on his lover’s hips. Lindsey smelled of sweet soap and his skin was still warm from the shower. And from this position, Angel could feel his erection under the towel. Almost in spite of himself, his hands slipped beneath the fabric, wandering over Lindsey’s ass.

But Lindsey pushed him back with a playful smile. He shifted back a little, a mischievous glint in his gaze. With deliberate precision, he ran the tip of the stake along Angel’s chest, tracing between his pecs, carefully avoiding his heart, but pressing a little harder over his lower abdomen, just for the pleasure of seeing Angel tense up slightly.

— "What are you doing?” Angel asked, his voice tinged with amusement and a desire he no longer bothered to hide.

— "What? I’m just playing with my stake…" Lindsey replied, again with an innocent smile that fooled no one. "I think she called it Mr. Pointy on the way here."

He paused, adopting a menacing look, his blue eyes staring straight into Angel’s.

— "Careful, vampire…" he murmured. "I’m gonna slay you…"

The gleam in his gaze seemed to shine even more.

— "With my stake…" he added as he descended a little further, the point of the stake brushing the light fabric of Angel’s pajama bottoms.

— "With your stake?" Angel repeated, his eyes eager. "I can’t wait…"

Lindsey bit his lower lip, his pupils blown wide. He couldn’t wait either. He set the stake beside them on the bed, then slipped his fingers beneath the waistband of Angel’s pajamas.

— "Then let me take care of you… Behave. Be a good vampire."

Angel didn’t reply, but lifted his hips just enough to let Lindsey pull the pants off. The garment slid down, revealing his strained erection.

— "Well… Looks like you were right. I do arouse you…" Lindsey observed, satisfied, his gaze sweeping over his husband’s body.

— "Always," Angel replied. "Are you planning on making me wait long?"

Lindsey tilted his head, pretending to think while eyeing him, naked beneath him, legs slightly spread.

— "Hm… not sure… You think that little shop on the corner sells blonde wigs?"

Angel laughed, and Lindsey’s smirk widened. Unable to resist the call of those lips, he leaned down to kiss him. It quickly turned hungry, Lindsey slipping his tongue in, demanding, urging Angel for a response. Without breaking contact, he let the towel fall and began grinding down against Angel’s body, seeking as much friction as possible.

Angel was the one who broke the kiss.

— "They might not sell wigs, but I’m sure they have lube if we run out…" he said with a knowing look.

Lindsey smiled back (as if they’d ever run out of lube…) and reached for the suitcase at the foot of the bed, barely unpacked since they’d arrived late. A moment later, his fingers were sliding between Angel’s cheeks, accustomed, precise. The vampire spread his legs a little wider, groaning softly under the attention. Lindsey knew his body better than anyone. Where to press, when to slow down, how to make him shudder. And he was always so tender, so attentive. It made the moment feel deeply intimate. Angel closed his eyes, his head back, simply savoring Lindsey’s touch. Little by little, he let go, unable to hold back the moans that soon filled the room.

Lindsey too was savoring it—every muscle under his fingers, every reaction from his husband. When Angel started moving more eagerly against his hand, Lindsey didn’t hesitate. He coated his cock with lube, then raised Angel’s leg, lined himself up, and pushed in slowly, enjoying the rough moan Angel let out and that powerful sensation of being gradually engulfed within a body that wasn’t his own, as if they were melting into one new being.

— "Fuck… Liam… You feel so good…" Lindsey groaned once he was fully inside.

If it had still beaten, Angel’s heart would’ve skipped a beat.

— "Damn, Lin… Don’t say my name like that, I’m still not used to it!" he protested weakly.

Lindsey grinned and began moving in a slow rhythm, each thrust deep and deliberate, alternating between gentleness and power. Angel responded to each movement with a moan, quickly losing control.

— "Yes, Angel… Keep going… Moan for me…" Lindsey asked, a little louder than intended.

— "Shh…" Angel whispered, though he was having a hard time holding back himself. "You promised to be quiet…"

— "I never promised anything at all," Lindsey retorted.

And without giving him time to answer, he picked up the pace, drawing another grunt from Angel, who started to regret his decision. If Spike heard anything (and he definitely would), he'd never live it down for decades.

Relentless, Lindsey reached down and wrapped his hand around Angel’s taut cock, stroking him in perfect sync with his thrusts. Aware of the intensity of the moment, he made the pleasure last, periodically slowing down when he felt the climax approaching, keeping them both on the edge, without ever letting them tip over.

— "Lindsey… please…" Angel finally murmured in a pleading tone, clearly at his wits’ end after yet another orgasm denied by too slow a pace.

— "You wanna come, baby?" Lindsey asked tenderly, his pace still teasingly slow.

Unable to formulate a coherent sentence, Angel nodded.

— "Then scream my name," Lindsey ordered, his blue eyes filled with lust and challenge.

— "Lindsey…" Angel rasped in a hoarse voice.

— "Louder. Scream." Lindsey demanded, tightening his grip around Angel’s cock but not quickening his pace.

— "Lindsey! Fuck, Lindsey, harder!" Angel finally cried out, his last barriers of modesty shattering.

Lindsey smiled—and obeyed. His movements turned rougher, deeper, eliciting moans from both of them. The climax was close, they could both feel it. Lindsey grinned, bracing himself for his final attack.

— "Now, come with me, Liam," he whispered, thrusting deep inside him.

As soon as the word left his lips, Angel tensed violently, a cry of pleasure escaping his throat as he came hard, body taut, thighs trembling. His back arched and he gripped the sheets, his muscles tightened. Lindsey’s eyes widened. The sight, coupled with the way Angel clenched around him, pushed him over the edge too, sending him spiraling with a final thrust.

— "Yes, Angel!" he cried in turn in a breathless moan.

A moment later, he collapsed onto him, forehead resting on his shoulder.

— "Slayed," he murmured in the vampire’s ear, exhausted.

— "Definitely,” Angel confirmed in a whisper, a smile tugging at his lips as he slowly returned to himself.

— "My stake is lethal, baby," Lindsey added in a final quip.

Angel let out a hearty laugh.

— "Damn, you really did make me scream…" he said, shaking his head, already wondering what kind of teasing they’d face from their hosts tomorrow. "But God, how I love you…"

— "I love you too," Lindsey replied softly before kissing him and curling up beside him.

---

Angel was staring at the ceiling, lost in thought. The comfortable silence between them wasn’t awkward in the slightest; they were tired but content.

Lindsey’s fingers were lazily tracing little hearts on Angel’s chest, like a memory of a time not so long ago when it had been his only way to express his feelings.

— "What are you thinking about?" he asked, his voice softened by fatigue.

Angel turned his head toward him and took a moment to look at him.

— "That I’m really lucky that the curse had been removed," he answered with a faint smile. "You make me so damn happy, you know that?"

Lindsey smiled, but raised an eyebrow.

— "Even when I’m… unbearable?"

— "Oh, you get used to it," Angel replied with a mock-resigned pout.

— "Sorry… but I’m pretty sure there’s a universal rule that allows me to be cheeky with your ex-girlfriend…"

Angel shook his head.

— "Honestly, I’m just glad you didn’t add ‘bitch’ when you told her ‘more than that’ and showed her the ring almost right in her face…"

Lindsey’s eyes widened.

— "Crap, I knew I’d forgotten something!" he quipped with a smile before shrugging. "Well… I guess I’ll get another chance tomorrow…"

— "Lindsey!" Angel groaned, half-serious.

— "Sorry, you’re right. Tomorrow, I’ll be too busy singing about our exploits from tonight…"

Angel rolled his eyes and tilted his head back, a jaded expression on his face.

— "Damn, I had forgotten how annoying you are when you talk…"

At once, Lindsey froze. His smile vanished and his face paled. Swallowing, he straightened up in bed and looked away, clearly shaken by Angel’s words. Quiet fell in the room, like an echo of the long silence he’d only recently come out of.

Immediately Angel realized what he’d just said.

— "No, no, that’s not what I meant!" he blurted out, seeing his husband’s avoiding gaze. "I… it was… a joke, a stupid one… I… Oh, Lindsey, I love hearing you talk, even when you’re talking crap… Especially when you’re…"

He took him in his arms, gently pulling him closer. Lindsey didn’t resist. He nodded faintly but didn’t respond, as if still processing. His face remained marked by surprise and shock.

— "Lindsey, please… I’m sorry. Please, talk to me. I love you…"

Lindsey finally met his gaze, and a small, slightly forced smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He nodded again.

— "I love you too," he murmured at last, his voice still a little veiled.

Angel closed his eyes in relief and kissed his forehead, lingering there, holding him tighter.

— "I love you. I love you so much…" he whispered.

---

The next morning, the villa was bathed in golden light, carefully filtered by the thick curtains of the workroom. No direct openings to the outside: the place had been specifically arranged so vampires—mainly Spike—could move around freely. The tall bookshelves overflowing with tomes and grimoires gave the living room the air of a scholar’s sanctuary, reminiscent of the Sunnydale high school library. Buffy, Spike, and Giles were already there.

Angel entered first, closely followed by Lindsey. Who had been reserved throughout breakfast.

Spike, slouched in a wobbly chair, looked up with a smirk.

— "Well, look who finally decided to show up. The couple of the century. You’re late, lovebirds. Is it because of all those vocal exercises last night?"

Lindsey opened his mouth to answer then refrained, settling for a faint smile instead.

Spike raised an eyebrow, surprised.

— "What, no snappy comeback? Did he wear you down that bad, McDonald?"

— "I’m behaving today," Lindsey simply said as he walked over to the table where Giles was laying out his notes.

Angel frowned slightly, not used to such restraint from his husband. In a smooth motion, he placed a hand on the small of Lindsey’s back and accompanied him.

Giles looked up from his papers, his glasses perched on the tip of his nose.

— "Perfect, then," he began. Only to pause as Willow entered, followed by Kennedy and two younger Potentials.

The witch was smiling as always, a stark contrast to her girlfriend’s demeanor. Kennedy scanned the room quickly, then narrowed her eyes at the sight of Angel and Lindsey.

She crossed her arms, brows furrowed, and turned to Willow.

— "Remind me why we’re supposed to help them?" she asked skeptically. "A vampire who once slaughtered hundreds—maybe thousands— of people, and a lawyer who works for a demonic law firm…"

— “Worked. Past tense. Lindsey’s a regular lawyer now," Angel immediately corrected coldly, sensing his husband stiffen beside him. "Who are you?"

— "Kennedy. Slayer," she replied. "You’d better watch that my stake doesn’t slip too close to your chest… I’ve never understood how Buffy could trust a murderous vampire."

Willow shot her a disapproving look, clearly uncomfortable.

— "Kennedy, stop it."

But the Potential Slayer wasn’t done.

— "Seriously, I don’t get it. Everyone freaks out when Faith loses it, but this guy," she gestured at Angel, "wiped out half of Europe. And this one," she motioned to Lindsey, "collaborated with Hell, and apparently he’s still a lawyer, so he probably frees murderers, assassins or other criminals. He is sabotaging our work."

Spike opened his mouth to intervene, but Angel beat him to it. Beside him, Lindsey had turned livid.

— "If you keep this up, it won’t matter if you’re a Slayer or not… You’ll find out that even if Angelus is gone, I can be just as terrifying…" Angel warned as he stepped forward, glaring down at her.

A heavy silence filled the room. Spike crossed his arms, clearly pleased. Even before finding himself a ghost in L.A., he’d never liked Kennedy and the way she ordered everyone around.

Kennedy seemed to hesitate for a moment, then recovered herself and turned directly to Lindsey.

— "Need your boyfriend to defend you? Back to your silent trauma?" she asked, purposefully accentuating the innuendo.

Lindsey slowly lifted his icy blue eyes to hers. He had managed to remain calm despite the deliberately hurtful jabs. His face was impassive, but his eyes burned with a new intensity.

— "No," he replied. "I just choose not to use it to bite like a misbehaving brat. I don’t know you. And clearly, you don’t know me either. So if you’re looking for an easy target to shine in front of the others… you picked the wrong man."

Kennedy squinted, but Lindsey didn’t give her time to respond.

— "You want a confession?" he went on. "Or an apology, maybe? Want me to sit down and tell you how many shitty decisions I’ve made, how many victims my actions have caused, how much I regret?" He shrugged slightly. "Too late. I’ve already had this conversation with the only person that matters."

He glanced and smiled at Angel, who, unable to help himself even though he knew full well that Lindsey was quite capable of defending himself, slipped an arm around his waist in a protective gesture.

Kennedy opened her mouth again, but Willow’s gaze stopped her in her tracks.

Buffy stood up and nodded toward the Potentials.

— "You two, go train in the courtyard."

The girls obeyed without question.

— "And you should go help them, Kennedy," Buffy added in a tone that brooked no argument.

Kennedy froze for a second, then reluctantly followed, casting one last scornful glance at Angel and Lindsey.

As soon as she was out the door, Lindsey turned to Giles, acting as if nothing had happened.

— "What were you saying, Mr. Giles?" he asked, sitting down at the table.

Without a word, Angel joined him and placed a discreet hand on his thigh under the table. Lindsey gave him a quick look, then silently interlaced their fingers.

— "Uh… Yes, right," said Giles, regaining focus. "I’ll show you what I had time to do…"

He adjusted his glasses and searched through his papers. He pulled out a sheet of notes that Angel recognized immediately: the ones Wesley had sent him.

— "I’ve gone back to Wesley’s partial translation, and using the various multilingual resources we have, I first managed to convert the symbols into a readable alphabet, giving us actual sentences to work with," he explained, laying the page on the table. "Of course, that doesn’t mean I know what it says; they’re not in English yet … So now, the real translation challenge begins."

Chapter Text

The large table was covered with papers, open grimoires, and notes scribbled in the margins of various sheets. A faint scent of English tea lingered in the air. They had been poring over the ancient text for more than two hours, and despite their determination, progress remained slow.

Giles, focused, was tracing a line with his finger, his glasses slightly askew.

— "Nekharith-dalem… Solan draz’akir," he read aloud in a low voice.

Willow, leaning over a second copy, frowned.

— "Draz’akir could mean ‘eternal death’… or ‘sealed life’. The structure’s too ambiguous."

— "Maybe draz’akir isn’t a compound word," Lindsey suggested, highlighting the line in his copy. "It could be some sort of circumlocution referring to a vampire, maybe?"

Willow nodded as she flipped through an old lexicon.

— "Yeah, that’s not a bad idea. Anyone got something for the beginning? Nekharith-dalem?"

No one answered.

Giles sighed and removed his glasses. He rubbed his eyes before placing them back on his nose.

— "Remind me… where exactly did you find this text? It might help us contextualize its meaning," he asked, looking alternately at Angel and Lindsey.

— "In the afterlife," Angel replied, exchanging a look with his husband. "Well… somewhere where the dead move and the living aren’t tolerated, so we figured that qualified as the afterlife."

— "The symbols were carved in a circular pattern, onto a large standing stone, like a kind of stele," added Lindsey. "The dead wouldn’t go near it. Out of fear or respect… we’re not sure."

Willow frowned, thoughtful.

— "The circular pattern is not unusual in many ancient languages. The best-known is Cretan, I think," she said. "And the standing stele… Could be a prayer for the dead… or maybe a funeral poem. What do you think, Giles?"

— "Yes, it surely could be that. We should try focusing on terms within those semantic fields…" the Watcher approved with a nod.

Next to Lindsey—who seemed entirely in his element when it came to research—Angel was staring at the text without really seeing it. He’d never been the studious type. It had always been Wesley handling this sort of thing at Angel Investigations. Or Fred… He missed her terribly right now. Pushing the wave of nostalgia aside, Angel shook his head, trying to focus on what Giles was saying about a term that apparently came up several times.

— "What about here, Mr. Giles?" Lindsey asked, pointing to a specific line. "Khaled mori-tahn veshu-lak?"

— "Khaled could be an ancient form of the word blood," Giles replied. "But the rest… mori-tahn veshu-lak… no idea…"

The room fell silent again for a few minutes as everyone searched for the missing meanings through the grimoires and dictionaries scattered across the table.

After a moment, Buffy sighed. Like Angel, she had never been particularly patient with this kind of research either.

— "Break?" Spike suggested, sitting up straighter.

About ten minutes earlier, he’d figured out the meaning of an important term and, since then, he had pretty much stopped looking, as if figuring he’d done his part.

Lindsey nodded and stood to stretch his legs. Spike took the opportunity to head off to fetch a fresh pot of coffee and some blood for Angel and himself, while Willow went to join Kennedy outside for a few minutes.

Lindsey grabbed a random sandwich from the coffee table and started pacing the room. Irresistibly, his gaze was drawn to the turntable on a shelf. Curious, he approached and examined the vinyl resting there. A melancholy smile curved his lips when he recognized Behind Blue Eyes. It was a song that resonated deeply with him.

— "You like The Who?" Giles called over, noticing his reaction.

— "Of course. I’ve sung this one dozens of times. In bars, on stage… just for myself too… when no one could hear me…" he admitted in a strange confession.

— "Me too. Mostly in my youth," Giles confessed in turn, instinctively rubbing his arm where the Eyghon tattoo lay hidden.

He trailed off, his gaze drifting as they both recalled the lyrics.

— "It’s the kind of song that makes you feel stripped bare," he added, his face betraying a deeper understanding that went far beyond the words of a song.

Lindsey looked up, surprised by the buried burden he perceived behind the Watcher’s words.

— "The best songs do that," he murmured. "They transcend even the soul."

— "Exactly," Giles agreed.

A silence settled between them, as if both were realizing the strange connection that had just formed between them.

— "No one knows what it’s like… to be the bad man…" Lindsey began softly, his eyes fixed on the record.

— "To be the sad man…" Giles continued.

— "Behind blue eyes," they finished together in a breath, their gazes meeting in a sort of quiet melancholy.

— "I should’ve brought my guitar…" Giles said with a hint of regret.

— "Mine’s just upstairs. We could take a real break and play for a bit," Lindsey offered, surprising even himself with the sudden urge to extend this unanticipated moment of confessions.

Giles smiled.

— "Gladly. It’s not often I get to talk about music with someone around here."

They exchanged a knowing glance, unexpected but sincere, then headed off together toward the bedroom where Lindsey had left his guitar.

---

An hour had passed since they’d returned from their musical break. Around the table, the mood was relaxed, but the work had resumed with the same level of rigor. Giles was still buried in his pages, while Willow had swapped the grimoires for her keyboard and was now trying to coax some results out of a homemade translation program.

Angel had picked up the books Buffy and Spike had abandoned when they’d gone to check if the girls needed help with their training. This time, he was studying the strange words scattered across the sheets with more focus.

Beside him, Lindsey was scribbling some of them onto a sheet, linking them together with arrows. He was frowning. For several minutes now, something had been bothering him, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

— "Rupert, could you read the full text again, please?" he asked out of the blue, his pencil hovering over the paper.

Giles looked up, slightly surprised, but nodded. He adjusted his glasses and read slowly, enunciating each word in that strange-sounding language.

Lindsey closed his eyes, listening intently. His fingers began tapping an unconscious rhythm on his thigh. Suddenly, his face lit up with understanding.

— "Angel…" he murmured, turning toward his husband, his eyes shining with new excitement. "There are rhymes like in a song."

Angel raised an eyebrow, looking puzzled.

— "Well… yeah. I don’t think it’s unusual in a prayer for the dead," he replied with a shrug.

— "No, it’s like a song," Lindsey insisted, leaning in as if to physically transmit his intuition. "And we found it on a rock stele."

His blue eyes searched Angel’s, waiting for the connection to click.

— "Well, yeah… a song or a poem," Angel answered with another shrug, still not grasping Lindsey’s point.

— "No, you don’t understand," Lindsey said, growing impatient. "This is a song. On a rock. A song. On a rock," he repeated, emphasizing each key word.

Silence fell over the table as Angel remained frozen. Willow’s fingers hovered above her keyboard, and Giles removed his glasses, watching the exchange with curiosity.

Then Angel suddenly opened his eyes wide, finally realizing.

— "Are you kidding me?" he murmured, locking eyes with Lindsey, the revelation lighting up his features.

— "That would be too much of a coincidence… wouldn’t it?" Lindsey said, unable to hide the excitement trembling in his voice.

— "Well… yeah, I guess…" Angel agreed, still stunned by the answer that had just hit him.

— "So? What did that crazy vampire say again? Besides the ‘rock song’?" Lindsey exclaimed, his eyes fixed on his husband, ready to seize on the slightest confirmation.

Angel frowned, trying to remember.

— "He… he was half nuts, Lin. He talked about a… a quest… blood… chocolate…"

— "I’m sure he said more. We’ll have to remember every single world of that conversation. Exactly. Aren’t you supposed to have perfect memory as a vampire?" Lindsey teased.

— "Hey!" Angel protested with an offended look. "I do remember some things! He said the rock was important… and he totally freaked when I mentioned singing… Barry Manilow… or country music…"

Around the table, Giles and Willow were still looking at them in total confusion.

— "Barry Manilow? A vampire? What exactly are you talking about?" the Watcher finally asked.

— "We met a crazy vampire at the beginning of our journey… well, maybe not so crazy after all…" Lindsey explained. "He talked about a song and rock. At the time, his speech made us think of music rather than… well, actual stone."

He exchanged a look with Angel, a mix of astonishment and excitement at the simplicity of this realization.

— "To think we’ve had a lead this whole time!" Angel exclaimed, running a hand through his hair in disbelief.

— "That’s… interesting," Giles commented before asking, "Should we continue the translation? Or are you just going to… sing, Angel?"

Angel gave him a skeptical look. After Giles and Lindsey’s impromptu performance earlier, he clearly would have preferred to avoid any musical show in public, aware of his own limitations in this area. But his husband didn’t seem to share that concern, a mischievous spark dancing in his eyes.

— "It’s a song. That’s what he said. So you have to sing it," Lindsey insisted with a teasing grin. "Come on, get up! Sing!"

Shooting him a dark look, Angel snatched the sheet from the table with a sharp gesture and focused. Everyone seemed to hold their breath, and Lindsey looked visibly delighted at the prospect of the little show. With another glare at his husband, Angel began.

— "Nekharith-dalem… Solan draz’akir…" he sang in an improvised tune, his voice awkwardly resonating over the strange syllables, while Lindsey struggled not to laugh a few steps away.

— "You feel anything?" he asked as soon as Angel finished and managed to compose himself again.

He was scanning the vampire’s face for the slightest sign of change or mystical revelation.

But Angel shook his head, a flicker of disappointment crossing his features. If the song on the rock was essential, apparently just singing it wasn’t enough.

Lindsey sighed.

— "Maybe it’s your musical skills… Guess I’m gonna have to teach you how to sing…" he said with deliberately dramatic flair, trying to ease his husband’s frustration with humor.

— "Hey!" Angel protested again, looking falsely offended. "I suggest we get back to the translation instead…"

He sat back down and grabbed one of Giles’s grimoires, clearly preferring to face dead languages rather than any more commentary on his vocal talents.

---

Several hours later, silence reigned in the now almost empty villa. The laughter and voices had dissipated with Giles and Willow’s departure, and Kennedy and the Potentials had gone out on patrol with Buffy and Spike. The atmosphere was calmer now, almost peaceful.

Angel pushed open their bedroom door with a careful gesture, balancing in his arms a tray that held a cup of blood and a meal for Lindsey.

He stopped in the doorway with a faint smile.

Lindsey was sitting on the edge of the bed, his guitar resting on his thigh. After a few chords, his voice rose softly in the dim light, with that familiar ease that almost made you forget the nearly two years of silence.

"No one knows what it's like
To be the bad man
To be the sad man
Behind blue eyes"

Angel set the tray down quietly on the dresser, his gaze fixed on Lindsey. Without a word, he simply sat beside him on the bed, watching his fingers glide gently over the strings.

"No one knows what it's like
To be hated
To be fated
To telling only lies…"

— "You’re not, you know?" he interrupted softly in spite of himself. "A ‘bad man’. You’re not. Don’t believe what Kennedy said this morning."

Lindsey lifted his head slightly, his fingers falling still on the strings.

— "I was."

— "But you’re not anymore," Angel insisted tenderly.

A smile escaped Lindsey’s lips. Faint, almost resigned.

— "No… not anymore…" he said.

He frowned, then added:

— "But… it still hurts, sometimes. My soul hurts."

Angel wrapped a reassuring arm around his shoulders.

— "I know. Feels the same, sometimes." He paused, his eyes locked on Lindsey’s. "You can tell me anything, you know that, right?"

Lindsey smiled a bit wider.

— "I love you," he murmured, a spark lighting up his eyes.

Angel smiled back, his gaze softening even more.

— "Oh… that… you can even tell me every day."

Lindsey chuckled, then slowly resumed the melody, his fingers finding their place on the strings again and his voice filling the room once more.

"But my dreams, they aren't as empty
As my conscience seems to be…"

Chapter Text

Silence was reigning in the living room of the villa. The day had started just like the one before: tea, coffee, and blood to go with the research. Giles was hunched over his notebook, glasses sliding down his nose, while Willow, sitting cross-legged on the carpet, nodded slowly as he murmured.

— "I think we’ve got it," Giles finally said, looking up. "Listen, everyone…"

He straightened up and read aloud, his voice resonating through the room.

"O spirits lost, in shadows beyond,
In twilight's embrace, we bid farewell.
Mighty blood, our sacred thread,
Guides us through night, where the living tread.
In circle of life, and death's soft song,
Offer us the blood of eternity, let the shadows fly.
O Death, hear our plea,
In your dark embrace, set our souls free."

A silence followed the final words.

— "Well… sounds like something, at least,” Lindsey said, pleased that they’d finally managed to get a more or less understandable text after all these hours of translation.

— "It’s clearly some sort of prayer. If it’s meant to be sung, it’s actually a canticle," Giles commented. "It incorporates elements found in several rites linked to the passing of souls, but with a focus on blood as a sacred bond."

For a moment, everyone stared at the words spread across the page. Angel glanced at Lindsey, then at Giles.

— "What now?" he asked. "Singing it doesn’t work… so, how do we use this canticle to make me human again?"

Giles shrugged, looking perplexed.

— "I’m not the one to ask, that’s beyond my translation expertise, I’m afraid."

— "Then we need to ask someone who’ll know," Lindsey decided.

Angel turned toward his husband. That same spark he’d seen in his blue eyes the day before was back.

— "It’s time to head back to California," Lindsey declared. "We’ve got a crazy vampire waiting for us there."

---

That evening, Angel and Lindsey packed their bags. They had contacted Gunn, who had been able to send Wolfram & Hart’s private jet this time, which would definitely be easier than taking a commercial flight. Outside on the villa’s porch, it was time for goodbyes.

— "It was a pleasure to meet you, Rupert," Lindsey said sincerely, reaching out to shake the Watcher’s hand.

— "The pleasure was mutual," Giles replied, shaking it. "You’ve surprised me. In a good way, I mean."

Lindsey raised an eyebrow, a slight grin on his lips.

— "Pretty sure that’s the first time anyone’s said that to me," he admitted, touched.

Giles smiled.

— "Our past isn’t the only thing that defines us, Lindsey. Take care of yourself. And of your husband, too," he added, glancing over at Angel, who was nearby, saying goodbye to Willow, Buffy, and Spike.

— "I will," Lindsey replied with a smile. "Thank you. For your work, your patience. For listening. For everything."

A moment later, he felt Angel’s hand settle on his back.

— "Ready?" the vampire asked.

— "Ready!" Lindsey confirmed.

Angel was about to head to the car when Giles stopped him with a gesture, extending his hand. Surprised, the vampire froze.

— "I hope you find what you’re looking for. You deserve it," Giles said, his tone both solemn and friendly.

Angel felt a lump rise in his throat and took the Watcher’s outstretched hand.

— "Thank you," he murmured in a low voice. "And… sorry."

Giles nodded.

— "Go on now," he said with a gleam in his eyes. "You’re going to miss your flight."

Lindsey smiled and slipped his hand into Angel’s, leading him toward the car to go to the airport, while the others called out their goodbyes.

— "See you soon, cowboy!" Spike yelled. "And try not to lose your man down the toilet this time!"

Lindsey burst out laughing as Angel shook his head in despair at having his dignity trampled on like this. Damn it… Why on earth had his husband told Spike that story? Didn’t he know when to shut up?

The car door closed on Spike and Lindsey’s laughter, and Angel drove off.

---

The journey passed without incident, quiet and uneventful. No hiding in the plane’s bathrooms, no lying to flight attendants, no neighbors startled by passengers suddenly appearing mid-flight. A luxury Angel was savoring fully, sitting in a leather seat with a glass of liquor in hand.

Beside him, Lindsey had opened his laptop and was staring at the text on the screen. The artificial light highlighted the features of his face, tensed with concentration, his blue eyes repeatedly scanning the same enigmatic lines.

— "‘O spirits lost, in shadows beyond,’" he read slowly. "You think that means the afterlife? Where we found the stele?"

— "Maybe…" Angel replied, leaning in toward the screen. "But it’s too dangerous to go back there without more information…"

Lindsey nodded and ran a hand over his throat. He remembered well enough the sensation of being asphyxiated and wasn’t eager to experience it again.

Beside him, Angel was still thinking.

— "Blood is mentioned twice and we had needed blood to open the portal…" he added.

— "Well, there’s often blood in rituals involving vampires," Lindsey pointed out.

— "That’s right, I’d forgotten you’re an expert in vampire rituals, evil lawyer…" Angel teased gently.

Lindsey chuckled and shook his head, returning to the text.

For the rest of the flight, they tried to decode the canticle—without much success, honestly. They were reduced to making guesses. And hoping that the crazy vampire in Carmel-by-the-Sea might be able to enlighten them… assuming they could even make sense of his ramblings.

— "Do you think we should bring him some chocolate?" Lindsey suddenly asked, just to lighten the serious mood.

Angel chuckled.

— "If it keeps him from seeing you as a snack, we should bring him a whole box," the vampire joked, remembering with a hint of worry how the vampire had grabbed Lindsey during their first encounter.

Lindsey was about to reply when his expression suddenly shifted. He froze, his eyes widening slightly as if struck by a revelation.

— "Wait…" he murmured. "I just remembered something…"

Angel frowned, attentive. They’d already tried to reconstruct their conversation with the mad vampire more than once, but with little success. Only random, fragmented, and mostly incomprehensible snippets had come back to their memories.

— "He said…" Lindsey continued, concentrating as he tried to recall the exact phrase. "He told me blood was better than chocolate. And that it was… healing? Soothing? No, that’s not the right word… But…"

Angel tilted his head, his gaze turning distant as he too replayed the scene in his mind.

— "Wait…" he murmured in turn. "You think he… you think he was talking about Dracula’s blood? The blood that healed your vocal cords???"

For a second, the question hung heavy in the air between them, full of implication.

— "I don’t know…" Lindsey finally said. "Maybe? What do you think?"

Angel frowned and sank back into his seat, a little wearily.

— "I think that if all his words are that cryptic… we’ll never understand a damn thing until we experience it in real time…"

Lindsey watched him for a moment, hearing the frustration and resignation in his voice. Then, as if piecing together a complicated puzzle, he went back to digging into his memory.

— "He also seemed to know you… well, to know Angelus to be precise…" he added, thinking aloud and jotting down a few notes on his laptop.

— "Yeah, that part we recalled pretty quickly, but it doesn’t help much since I can’t remember him…" Angel muttered, staring out the window. "In fact, I’m pretty sure he’s lying and that we never met before..."

Lindsey smiled and nudged him gently, breaking his contemplation of the sky.

— "Stop brooding, big guy. We’re looking for solutions here. They’re not going to fall from the clouds even if you stare at them like that… That’d be too easy," he teased.

Angel just groaned in reply. He felt like he was going round in circles, trapped in a maze of meaningless words. Analyzing this song and that crazy vampire’s riddles was leading them nowhere.

Lindsey placed a hand on his arm, breaking through the fog of his thoughts again.

— "Hey," he murmured softly, waiting for Angel to meet his eyes. "We’ve been through worse, haven’t we? And we’re almost there. In a few days, we’ll have real answers."

Angel held his gaze for a moment, then smiled despite himself. Somehow, Lindsey always knew exactly what to say.

---

The plane landed in Oklahoma City a few hours before noon. It had been Lindsey’s request: a small detour to see Eliot. Just for a meal. A little chat.

Eliot’s apartment was quite a distance from the airport, but the cab driver seemed to know every shortcut like the back of his hand. Barely an hour later, he was standing at the front door, his hand raised, a little hesitant. This would be the first time he’d seen Eliot in his home. And the first time in over a decade that he’d literally be able to speak to him face-to-face.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked three short raps.

— "Come in!" Eliot’s deep voice called from inside.

Lindsey opened the door, then stepped inside. The apartment was simple. A bit messy, too. There wasn’t much decoration on the walls, just one or two photos of Eliot in the uniform of the security company he worked for, standing next to his colleagues whose builds were just as impressive as his.

In one corner, a well-abused punching bag hung from the ceiling, surrounded by dumbbells that would have made any member of Lindsey’s upscale L.A. gym go pale. If he’d been the one decorating, Lindsey would have probably chosen a big bookshelf for law books and vinyl records instead. He smiled, discovering their differences reflected in this furniture for the first time.

— "I made some chili," Eliot said, coming out of the kitchen with a dish in his hands.

He was wearing a pink apron that stood out against his black T-shirt revealing muscular forearms.

— "Angel told me you like it," Eliot added as he set the dish down on the table.

Lindsey smiled and noticed a thin red scratch on his brother’s hand—probably from a recent fight gone wrong, or a professional intervention that had gone too far.

He nodded without speaking. He wasn’t entirely sure why, but he didn’t want his first spoken word to Eliot after all this time to just be a simple ‘yes’ about a plate of chili. He pursed his lips. He wasn’t sure what to say.

— "How are you?" Eliot asked softly after taking off the apron and draping it over the back of a chair.

— "Good," Lindsey answered automatically, unsettled by the softness in his brother’s voice that contrasted with his still intense stare.

He bit his lip. ‘Good’ wasn’t really much better than ‘yes’…

Eliot smiled.

— "Have you lost your ability to form long sentences?" he teased lightly.

— "What? No, of course not!" Lindsey exclaimed. "I… I’m happy to see you," he finally managed to say.

— "I’m happy to hear you."

That word seemed to break Lindsey’s hesitation, and he joined Eliot in a few steps, meeting his gaze with a faint smile. The two brothers looked at each other for a moment then pulled into a rough embrace, as if that could somehow erase the years of silence between them.

— "Come on, sit down and try my chili," Eliot urged when they pulled apart, giving Lindsey’s shoulder a brotherly pat. "I’m pretty sure it’s better than any you’ve ever had!"

— "Oh, Angel’s chili is really good, you know…" Lindsey objected playfully, regaining his repartee.

Eliot smiled but frowned, suddenly noticing the absence of his brother-in-law.

— "Speaking of your husband… Where is he? Was he afraid of me?" he asked.

— "He stopped in Washington, where we’d left the car on the way over," Lindsey explained. "I took a flight to Oklahoma alone, and he’ll meet me here tomorrow."

Eliot crossed his arms over his chest and put on a falsely angry expression.

— "Guess that means you’re stealing my couch, little bro?" he said, raising an eyebrow in a mocking way that suddenly made him look very much like Lindsey.

— "Well… I can find a hotel if you had… more enticing plans. Maybe with the lady who owns that magnificent pink apron…" Lindsey teased gently.

Eliot scowled, mock-offended.

— "For your information, that apron is mine and mine alone," he shot back, pointing a finger at Lindsey. "And as for the color, you can ask my coworkers who gave it to me why."

— "I said absolutely nothing about the color except that it was magnificent…" Lindsey defended himself, as he dug into his plate of chili.

He stopped after the first bite.

— "Mmmh… Okay, I might need to revise my judgment," he admitted. "This is seriously delicious."

Eliot smiled with pride. Cooking was one of his passions, and sharing this meal with his newly recovered brother meant more to him than his gruff nature would ever let him admit.

Lindsey smiled back. This moment was worth a thousand text messages. Maybe it was time to stop running from what he still had: a family. Even if it was a bit damaged.

— "What about Sam and Lisa?" he asked without thinking. "Are they around?"

For the first time, he was considering real reunions with them.

Chapter Text

Angel and Lindsey had stopped in the garden surrounding the Mission San Carlos Borromeo, silently contemplating the building. Moonlight stretched the shadows along the stone walls, giving the place a more sinister appearance than probably intended.

— "Do you really think we’re going to find answers here?" Angel asked, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the entrance.

— "I hope so…" Lindsey replied. "I could also be completely wrong… Maybe he never meant ‘the song on the rock’…"

They stood there for a moment, listening to the cool breeze rustling through the trees, trying to imagine what awaited them inside.

— "Do you know the text by heart?" Angel finally said.

Lindsey nodded, determined.

— "In English and in the old language."

Angel smiled, a flicker of pride softening the worried lines on his forehead.

— "So, we’re ready?"

— "Ready!" Lindsey confirmed. "Let’s go grill our crazy snitch!"

Side by side, they entered the building and headed straight for the crypt, taking the same path they had followed about a month ago. Surprisingly, the torches that had lit the staircase last time were out tonight. They could only hope the vampire was still there…

— "Once we get downstairs, stay back a little, please," Angel requested, concerned. "I don’t want him mistaking you for a snack again…"

Lindsey let out a small laugh but nodded. After Dracula, he’d had his fill of vampire bites, and his neck was now Angel’s exclusive territory.

They reached the bottom. The crypt hadn’t changed. The vaults, the columns, the circle of stones—everything looked exactly as it had on their first visit. Even the smell was the same: a metallic, earthy blend that made Lindsey wrinkle his nose.

He was there. Crouched near the pantry that still held its assortment of unappetizing items, the mad vampire seemed utterly fascinated by the floor, as if reading a message only he could see hidden in the crevices, his fingers tracing invisible patterns on the ground.

Angel stepped toward him slowly, cautiously. When their host made no move whatsoever, he cleared his throat to announce their presence. Lindsey, as promised, had stayed a few steps back, his pocketknife in hand. He frowned when he noticed the vampire didn’t react. Getting information out of him was going to be even more difficult…

— "Hello!" Angel called out loudly, trying to get his attention.

This time, the mad vampire lifted his eyes and stared at his visitors as if only now realizing they were there.

— "You’re beautiful…" he said with an admiring smile, like he had never contemplated anything so captivating.

Angel exchanged a glance with Lindsey. This wasn’t exactly what he’d expected. Well… truthfully, he hadn’t expected anything...

— "Uh… Thanks," Angel replied, before trying to get to the heart of the matter. "We came to ask you for more information about…"

But he stopped mid-sentence. His interlocutor wasn’t listening. The vampire had stood up and taken a few steps toward Lindsey. His eyes were locked on his throat, shining with a strange light. Instinctively, Lindsey took a step back and tightened his grip on his knife.

The insane vampire advanced, slightly bent. He didn’t seem to see Angel, as though hypnotized by Lindsey.

— "You have such a lovely voice," he said, tilting his head.

Lindsey frowned, confused. He hadn’t said a single word yet… He was about to reply when suddenly the vampire straightened to his full height, looming and menacing.

— "Makes me want to tear your throat open…" he declared in a threatening voice. "Sink my fangs into it… and lacerate it!"

At these words, Angel immediately stepped in front of his husband, protective.

— "You’d better back off," he growled, his tone low and dangerous. "Or Angelus will gladly sink his own fangs into your throat… right before driving a stake through your heart."

He shifted to his vampiric features, making the threat more tangible. He hadn’t chosen that wording by accident. Last time, the mad vampire had seemed to show some respect for Angelus. At least, the name had stopped him back then. But sadly, that strategy didn’t seem to work this time…

— "Angelus?” the crazy vampire repeated, curious now. "Is that him?"

His face had taken on a surprised expression, and he pointed a finger at Lindsey.

— "Uh… no. It’s me," Angel answered, thrown off. "Well… sort of…"

The mad vampire stared at him uncomprehendingly for nearly a full minute, as if trying to solve an especially difficult riddle. Then suddenly, his brows furrowed and he exclaimed:

— "I hope you brought me a hummingbird! Or a leg! I’d like a leg for dinner, I haven’t got one yet…"

His voice brimmed with hope as he gestured toward the pantry, where limbs of all demonic species lay scattered among jars of various colors. Indeed, there didn’t seem to be any legs… or birds.

— "Uh… I’ve got chocolate…" Lindsey offered, with a tentative tone, handing him the same bar he’d picked up from this very place a few weeks earlier.

The crazy vampire seemed to analyze the gift, tilting his head from side to side, dubious.

— "I would’ve preferred a leg…" he murmured sadly, casting a covetous look at Lindsey’s right leg, sending a shiver up his spine.

But he took the chocolate anyway, his long pale fingers playing with the wrapper. He turned it over and over with a melancholy air.

— "The right leg is always the tastiest, you know? With a green olive sauce," he added with confidence, as if sharing a cooking recipe with friends.

Angel exchanged another glance with Lindsey, who nodded and stepped back slightly, staying alert, his hand tight around his knife.

— "We’d like some information… about the song," Angel resumed calmly. "You remember? You mentioned a song… and rock… The song on the rock? Remember?"

The mad vampire stared at him, perplexed. He didn’t seem to understand what Angel was talking about.

— "Are you angels? God’s messengers? Or sorcerers?" he suddenly asked in a curious tone.

— "What? No, I…" Angel started before dismissing the digression with a shake of his head. "We came a few weeks ago. You told us the rock was important, and the song too. We’ve found it now: the song on the rock, right?"

With a gesture, he motioned his husband to recite the prayer. Lindsey obeyed immediately. First in English, then in the ancient language. His voice echoed through the crypt, giving the text a touch of mysticism.

— "You have a wonderful voice," the mad vampire repeated, admiring. "They will be pleased."

— "Who’s going to be pleased? Who are we supposed to recite this song to?" Angel urged, exasperation beginning to creep in.

But again, the vampire just looked at him, puzzled, as if the question made no sense at all in this context.

Angel ran a hand over his face. Conversing with someone like this gave him a headache. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying not to give in to irritation. He was about to ask his question again when suddenly, the insane vampire became agitated.

— "You talk too much!" he exclaimed violently, his arms rising frantically. "Too much, too much, TOO MUCH. The words fall to the ground and splatter in the circle of blood. Poof! Crushed."

— "Like the children!" he added, snapping his head sharply toward Lindsey, whose heart missed a beat.

He felt himself turn pale, but immediately, Angel was at his side, supportive and protective.

— "Back off. Now," Angel said, staring at their host with a low, threatening voice. "No one’s going to crush anyone."

But the vampire had already calmed. He was looking at Angel with interest now.

— "Wanna know a secret?" he asked, his tone childish.

Angel frowned, suspicious, but nodded.

— "The other side is waiting for you…" the vampire whispered in an almost inaudible murmur, forcing Angel and Lindsey to lean in closer to hear him. "You should run… run straight. Otherwise…"

He trailed off and glanced around, as if watching for something.

— "They’re going to catch you!" he finished, yelling, panic flaring in his voice as it echoed off the stone walls.

Lindsey jumped and instinctively backed away, his heart pounding.

— "Fuck!" he gasped, hand on his chest. "You can’t just scream like that!"

Out of breath, he leaned against the wall, trying to compose himself after the mini heart attack. Damn, this vampire went from whisper to scream in a split second, as if multiple personalities were fighting inside his tortured mind.

Beside him, Angel was at his breaking point. His patience having reached its limit, he grabbed Lindsey’s hand.

— "Come on, we’re not getting anything out of this. Let’s get the hell out," he decided, resigned.

But the mad vampire held Angel by the arm, his fingers digging into the flesh with force.

— "So, you don’t want it?" he asked, sounding innocently surprised, pointing toward the pantry where the chocolate still sat among the jars and scattered limbs of various creatures.

— "No, we don’t want anything. Let me go."

With a sharp tug, Angel freed himself and pulled Lindsey toward the exit.

They stormed out of the crypt at a fast pace, leaving behind the mad cackling echoing against the stone. Angel strode ahead, jaw clenched. Lindsey followed without a word, occasionally casting a sideways glance at his husband.

They crossed the building and reached the garden in silence. Angel stopped beside the car, his fists clenched and his gaze lost in the void.

Standing next to him, Lindsey felt a pang in his chest when he saw his husband’s gaze. It was disappointment. Raw. Total.

— "Are you okay?" he asked softly, even if he already knew the answer.

Angel didn’t respond right away. Then he shook his head, his eyes dark with frustration and a barely contained distress.

— "We have nothing, Lindsey! Absolutely nothing!" he burst out suddenly. "Just an incomprehensible song we don’t even know what to do with! I turned down Shanshu and… and now… now…"

Lindsey approached closer slowly and gently placed a hand on his husband’s arm.

— "Hey…" he murmured tenderly. "We can still explore other leads, my love. Don’t lose hope. We knew it wouldn’t be easy from the start…"

But Angel wasn’t calming down.

— "No! The truth is, there’s nothing! No ritual, no cure, nothing!" he shouted, pushing Lindsey away with a sharp, brutal gesture.

Having not expected it, Lindsey slammed against the car, thrown off by Angel’s vampire strength. Short of breath from the shock, both physical and emotional, he stared at his husband, stunned. He wasn’t used to seeing Angel like this—so lost in doubt and discouragement.

— "Angel…" he murmured, his voice a little shaky, leaning back against the car door.

Angel turned away, ashamed. His eyes closed for a moment as he tried to collect himself.

— "I’m sorry," he said at last, lower. "I didn’t mean to shout. Or push you…"

— "It’s okay…" Lindsey reassured him.

He lowered his gaze, feeling helpless. He stayed silent—a rare thing since he’d regained his voice. But right now, he had no idea what to say.

After several awkward minutes, Angel finally whispered, almost inaudible.

— "Can we just go, Lin?"

Lindsey’s head shot up, eyes widening.

— "I wanna go home," Angel repeated in a weary, almost pleading tone.

Without a word, Lindsey nodded. He took Angel’s hand, squeezed it tight, and pulled him into his arms for a moment before gently leading him to the car. They weren’t that far from Los Angeles after all. They could just as well head back home and figure things out there.

Chapter Text

The car sped along the deserted road, eating up the miles in silence. Lost in thought, Angel hadn’t said a word in nearly two hours. Beside him, Lindsey was driving, focused, occasionally sneaking discreet glances at his husband. His hands rested on the steering wheel, his expression composed.

But he couldn’t stop his mind from spinning. About the mad vampire. About his mood swings and his nonsensical sentences. Or at least, seemingly nonsensical. Lindsey remained convinced that there was a sliver of truth buried in the madness. Just as he was convinced that the vampire had predicted the healing of his voice the last time. And if he was right... it meant that this not-so-crazy vampire clearly had some power of prescience.

But for now, Lindsey couldn’t share these thoughts. Angel clearly had no desire to dissect the eccentricities they’d heard. So all he could do was turn them over in his mind, trying to catch the faintest hint of meaning. The vampire had talked about... a hummingbird... God’s messengers... about words falling to the ground (the canticle, maybe?)... about someone needing to run to avoid being caught. About his leg.

Lindsey felt a tension rise in his throat. Without realizing it, his hand left the wheel and settled on his thigh. He squeezed it, as if to check that everything was fine. That nothing was wrong. That it was still there. This was the second time someone had brought up his leg. First a supposed future version of Angel, and now a vampire who might be a seer… It was starting to be a lot, wasn’t it?

His fingers tightened a bit more on his thigh, unsure whether he should try to forget those gloomy predictions or prepare to mourn his leg. Finally, he shook his head and forced himself to loosen his grip and put his hand back on the wheel. He focused on the road ahead, the headlights carving a tunnel of light before them. He said nothing. He didn’t want to worry Angel, not when his husband was already so preoccupied.

---

A few days had passed. They’d returned home but hadn’t told anyone.

Angel remained distant, as if absent. And despite his best efforts, Lindsey was struggling to break through the shell his husband stubbornly kept closed. It had been a long time since he’d seen him brooding like this.

Growing increasingly worried, Lindsey finally decided to take action. He had never been the passive type: it was time to look for solutions. And anyway, they couldn’t stay stuck in this stalemate indefinitely...

So, after yet another session at the gym that was supposed to help clear his mind, Lindsey sent a message to Connor, letting him know they were back and offering to meet after his classes.

---

The campus was quiet in the late afternoon. Shadows stretched across the neatly trimmed lawns, and the laughter of students echoed nearby. Lindsey had just parked his truck when a familiar voice called out to him.

— "Lindsey, over here!" Connor shouted, waving enthusiastically.

Clearly, giving up on college was no longer in question: Connor looked completely in his element now. He wore a wide smile and was holding hands with a young woman with coiled hair.

— "You remember Holly?" Connor said right away.

— "Of course!" Lindsey replied, reaching out to shake her hand.

Even though he’d only met her a couple of times, Connor had spoken about her so much Lindsey couldn’t possibly forget. He frowned slightly, however. Holly didn’t know anything about vampires or demons, which meant they wouldn’t be able to discuss sensitive topics... not directly, anyway.

— "How are you doing?" Connor asked as they sat down on a nearby bench. "Getting used to talking again?"

— "Oh yes! It’s such a relief," Lindsey exclaimed with a sincere smile. "It still feels a bit strange, though… I sometimes start raising my hands to sign… before realizing I can just speak now…"

— "Connor took me to one of your concerts a long time ago, back when we weren’t dating yet," Holly said. "I really enjoyed it. Are you planning to write new songs?"

— "I’ve started one... but it’s not finished," Lindsey replied, before confessing a little hesitantly. "We’ve had... a lot on our minds lately."

— "Dad?" Connor guessed, his tone more serious.

Lindsey nodded, his expression darkening.

— "He’s not really doing well right now…"

— "He’s always been the brooding type, you know…" Connor murmured gently, trying to reassure him.

— "I know," Lindsey replied. “But this... this is more than brooding. He seems really depressed. He just drifts from room to room, doing nothing. And when I try to talk to him, he says he’s fine, that he just needs time to recover before going back to work. But it’s been days… and I…" Lindsey interrupted his long tirade and took a deep breath before continuing. "His problem isn’t going to… go away on its own. But he refuses to seek solutions. It’s like he has... given up. And I don’t know what to do anymore."

Connor frowned. Maybe it was because he hadn’t heard Lindsey’s voice face to face in a long time, but he didn’t remember him being the type to open up or talk so much about such personal matters. He definitely did seem worried.

— "He’s my pillar, Connor…" Lindsey went on, his voice slightly uncertain as he spoke so openly in front of Holly. "He’s the one who reassures me, who catches me when I fall. Not the other way around. I suck at helping people… I…"

— "That’s not true, Lindsey," Connor interrupted him in a firm voice. "You’ve helped me and supported me more times than I can count. And I’m sure Dad feels the same way, even if he doesn’t say it…"

Lindsey nodded faintly, and a silence settled over them. Holly glanced at Connor, then took a deep breath.

— "I don’t know what your family’s going through... and I don’t want to intrude," she said softly. "But if you ever need someone to help distract him or get him out of the house, I’m pretty good at making myself useful."

— "Hey, if things get really that bad, I’ll come kick his ass myself. You’ll see!” Connor added mockingly.

This time, Lindsey let out a small laugh.

— "What does Wesley say?" Connor asked then.

Lindsey hesitated for a moment before replying.

— "He doesn’t know we’re back, actually... No one does," he admitted. "Angel wants to take time. In fact, he doesn’t know I’m here either…"

Connor frowned, troubled.

— "Wesley could probably help though…" he muttered.

But Lindsey shook his head.

— "Angel doesn’t want to talk about it…"

— "Well, then make him change his mind!" Connor declared simply.

— "If it were that easy, I would have done it already…" Lindsey retorted.

— "Oh, come on, Lindsey… you managed to make him fall in love with you after trying to kill him what? Three times? Four?" Connor teased with a smirk.

— "I didn’t keep count…" Lindsey shot back as Holly’s eyes widened in shock.

— "Unsuccessfully, of course!" Connor added quickly to her, trying to backtrack.

— "Unsuccessfully…" Holly repeated, still stunned as she crossed her arms.

— "I mean… It was just a figure of speech! A metaphor! He didn’t actually try to kill him…" Connor lied.

— "Thank you," Lindsey suddenly murmured with a smile. "To both of you."

The two young people turned toward him. Lindsey looked a little more serene.

— "I’ll keep going," he declared. "I’ll keep being there for him. Make him smile—that, I’m pretty good at—and I won’t give up. I’m going to change his mind. Thank you."

Connor smiled back.

— "Well, you’re welcome, stepdad. Tell him I’ll come by soon. And that he needs to stop being such a douche!"

---

The days passed again in Los Angeles.

The kitchen was bathed in soft light. Dinner was almost over. Lindsey had cooked some roast chicken, which he was still nibbling at leisurely, while Angel, seated beside him, sipped from a glass of now lukewarm blood. The vampire had barely said a word since the start of the meal, his gaze lost somewhere in the depths of his drink.

Then suddenly, without warning, he reached out and stole a bite from Lindsey’s plate.

Lindsey’s eyes widened in surprise. Angel had never done that before.

The vampire brought the morsel to his mouth, chewed slowly… then lowered his eyes.

— "It has… no taste…" he murmured, deeply disappointed.

— "Maybe it’s just my cooking…" Lindsey offered, trying to make him smile.

But Angel only shook his head. Feeling his pain, Lindsey set down his fork, pushed his plate aside, and stood up without a word. He walked around the table and approached Angel, wrapping his arms around him in silent support.

— "Sit on my lap," the vampire asked simply, drawing him closer.

Lindsey settled down, and Angel welcomed him into his arms. His smile was gentle, but tinged with a nagging melancholy. Lindsey softly caressed his face, then, with a tender smile, tilted his head to the side, offering his neck.

Angel hesitated. His gaze slid over the flesh, over that fine vein, pulsing just beneath the surface. Over the tiny scars that marked the skin. He didn’t need to feed; his glass was still half full of pig’s blood.

But slowly, he leaned in and sank his fangs into the offered throat. Lindsey closed his eyes. A soft sigh escaped his lips. A moan followed. It was always a special moment. A strange, unique sensation. Especially when Angel bit him without sex inviting itself between them. An intimacy. Deep. Pure. In those moments, Lindsey felt he truly belonged to Angel. Body and soul.

Just a few moments later, Angel gently withdrew his fangs. As always, he had taken only a tiny amount. Just enough to feel Lindsey’s warmth flowing through him, to feel their connection, without ever risking weakening him.

Lindsey smiled behind his closed eyelids. He didn’t even feel dizzy. Only enveloped in a soft, soothing languor. He opened his eyes. Angel’s face seemed a little less somber now. Or maybe it was just the small smile on his lips. A slightly resigned smile. And melancholic. But still, less dark.

Lindsey drew a slow breath. He’d been laying the groundwork with little hints all week, and he sensed it was now or never. So he began.

— "Tomorrow, we’ll bring the canticle to Wesley," he said in a calm voice. "He’s used to this kind of stuff… I’m sure he’ll have some ideas."

He felt Angel shift slightly, saw his gaze still a little hesitant. But he went on, his fingers gently combing through Angel’s dark hair.

— "I transcribed everything I could remember from our two encounters with our crazy vampire friend. That might lead us somewhere, too."

Angel finally gave a slow nod. Hope hadn’t returned to his eyes yet, but they weren’t as lost as before. He tightened his arms around Lindsey and buried his face against his chest, as if to hide from the world for a while.

Lindsey closed his eyes in turn. He thought about tomorrow, about the text, the clues. About Angel’s reactions. Or rather, about his restrained reactions…

He hadn’t mentioned the leg. Not once in his transcription. As if he’d forgotten. He just hoped Angel wouldn’t notice.

---

The sun was slowly setting on the horizon when Lindsey and Angel pushed open the door of the Angel Investigations office. A faint scent of old paper lingered in the room, as if Wesley had been in the middle of researching ancient grimoires.

Lindsey had traded his leisure clothes for a slightly more formal look and was wearing a pale blue shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbows. Without a tie or a jacket, it still gave off a relaxed vibe, but the rigid file he was holding under his arm unintentionally brought back his lawyerly air. Angel glanced at him sideways, a faint smile brushing his lips. Even after all this time, he admired that presence Lindsey had when he was focused. That shirt really suited him.

Inside, Wesley was indeed working, leaning over his desk covered in open books. As soon as he saw the two men enter, he looked up and greeted them warmly, happy to see them again. Not far from him, Sienna was sorting papers in a binder. She, too, smiled brightly and immediately walked over.

— "Ah, here come our globe-trotters!" she exclaimed, beaming as she gave both Angel and Lindsey a brief hug. "You doing okay? All in one piece?"

— "All in one piece," Lindsey confirmed with a smile. "Even if it hasn’t been all smooth sailing..." he admitted though.

Sienna’s smile widened at the sound of Lindsey’s voice.

— "Oh dear... it’s so weird to hear you again!" she enthused.

Lindsey chuckled.

— "Yeah, I think it was weird for everyone..." he replied, remembering the varied reactions he’d gotten when he’d contacted his loved ones after getting back his voice.

— "We’ll have to talk about that actually, if you don’t mind," Wesley chimed in with interest. "If it really was Dracula’s blood that healed your vocal cords, I’d like to study the phenomenon in depth. It could be useful."

Lindsey tilted his head, a little hesitant.

— "Well, I don’t mind playing guinea pig, but we didn’t bring Dracula with us in our luggage so... If you want to analyze his blood, you’ll have to go to Transylvania yourself, I think..." he said, before adding with a mock-offended look, "And I’m forbidden to set foot there again."

Next to him, Angel gave a vigorous nod. No way they were going back there after what Lindsey had survived.

— "Well, well," a voice suddenly said.

As if fallen from another plane of existence, Illyria appeared from the back room.

— "You’ve returned," she added, stating the obvious.

— "Yeah, we’re back," Lindsey confirmed. "So are you. Did your trip go well?"

But Illyria didn’t bother answering and turned directly to Angel.

— "You don’t seem to have found what you were looking for though."

Angel opened his mouth, but no sound came out. No, he hadn’t found what he was looking for. And he didn’t need anyone to twist the knife.

— "We haven’t found it yet," Lindsey clarified, displaying unshakable optimism to counter the discouragement he could see in Angel’s eyes. "And actually, we could use advice from all of you."

He pulled the folder out from under his arm and placed it on the central table. Everyone gathered around as Lindsey began his explanation, summarizing everything so they’d all be on the same page.

— "Here’s what we have. Do you remember the symbols we asked you to translate, Wesley? That’s our main lead. We found them in Stull, that place said to connect our world to the afterlife through some kind of portal. We don’t know if it was really it, but that place sure felt like it. It was... strange. There were dead people, and monsters hunting the living who dared to venture in. Anyway, the symbols were carved into a sort of stone stele, and once translated, it looks like a prayer in the form of a chant—with rhymes. The exact term is ‘canticle’."

With a gesture, he lined up the strange symbols he’d copied from the stele alongside their translation so everyone could read.

— "It’s pretty vague..." Wesley noted as he studied the text. "You could possibly interpret it as a metaphor for the transformation from vampire to human, but also the reverse. Or it could just be a general prayer about the passage from life to death..."

— "Yeah... I know... but we have something else," Lindsey continued. "At the very beginning of our trip, we met a vampire. A bit... crazy. He predicted things that actually happened. Or at least, I’m convinced of it."

— "A prophetic vampire?" Sienna asked, sounding a little skeptical.

— "I think he is indeed. Even if he speaks in riddles. I can’t remember his exact words anymore, but he said that blood was better than chocolate, that it flowed down the throat and healed pain."

Wesley frowned.

— "You think he was referring to Dracula’s blood healing your throat?" he asked.

Lindsey nodded.

— "And Dracula made me eat chocolate cake right before that," he added. "Seems like a bit much to be a coincidence, doesn’t it?"

— "It does..." Sienna agreed. "But what does that have to do with the prayer?"

— "That vampire also said something like, ‘no quest is worth anything without a song’. And that ‘the rock is essential,’" Lindsey explained. "That could be related to the canticle we found on the rock, couldn’t it?"

His tone had grown a bit uncertain. He knew that his theory was a little far-fetched and based mostly on the ramblings of a mad vampire… But it was the only lead they had, and he’d decided to pursue it to the end.

— "He may be crazy, but he knows things," he insisted. "He was waiting for us the first time. Not the second."

He pulled out two more sheets from his folder: the transcriptions of their conversations with the vampire, and the flyer promoting the tourist guide that introduced the Christian mission and its supernatural manifestations.

— "I tried to remember everything," he explained. "He talked about blood, about sorcerers, about recited words... also a hummingbird, and a lot of other odd things. We need to analyze every word he said."

Wesley and Sienna nodded slowly and leaned over the documents. They could sense that Lindsey was doing everything he could to keep hope alive where Angel seemed resigned. He hadn’t uttered a single word since they’d arrived, apart from a brief hello.

At the other end of the table, Illyria raised an eyebrow. She was staring at the picture on the flyer.

— "I have met this being before," she blurted out suddenly as the others were focused on the transcripts.

A shocked silence settled over the room as everyone looked up at her.

— "He didn’t seem deranged to me," she stated matter-of-factly. "On the contrary, he immediately recognized my sovereignty and prostrated himself at my feet to glorify me. So he was rather pleasant."

— "He glorified you?" Angel repeated, taking real part in the conversation for the first time. "You mean he recognized you as a... god? Well, goddess?"

Lindsey quickly grabbed the transcripts and checked. Yes, the vampire had indeed mentioned a god. Twice.

Illyria nodded in response to Angel’s question.

— "Yes," she confirmed. "We discussed various things, ancient events and future perspectives. He was coherent."

Angel and Lindsey exchanged a perplexed look.

— "Did he… did he happen to say anything about a ritual to become human, by any chance?" Lindsey asked.

— "No. But you should go ask him. He’s a good source of advice," she suggested.

— "We came back from there, Illyria!" Angel exclaimed. "He only spoke in riddles, and we couldn’t make sense of any of it! That’s why we are here, to decipher his nonsense…"

— "Or maybe he perceives things differently," Wesley suggested thoughtfully, eyes on Lindsey’s transcriptions. "And time too. You said he knew you the first time but not the second, right? Maybe his mind is just… structured differently..."

Lindsey looked up from the document he’d just reread and stared at Illyria.

— "Would you be willing to come with us to meet him again?" he asked her, hoping she might be able to get more out of him than incomprehensible fragments.

Illyria tilted her head, thinking.

— "What’s in it for me?"

Chapter Text

A puzzled silence followed Illyria’s question, and the atmosphere in the room seemed to freeze all at once.

Wesley blinked, as if wondering whether he’d heard correctly. Angel, arms crossed, stared at Illyria with a frown, clearly not inclined to enter into any kind of bargaining.

Lindsey was the first to break the silence.

— "You mean... concretely?"

Illyria inclined her head slightly, like a magnanimous queen graciously agreeing to clarify her terms.

— "I offer you my presence, my intelligence, my ability to comprehend what you cannot hear. That is no small thing. It deserves compensation."

— "I thought you were one of us..." Angel objected, his voice slightly aggressive as it echoed in the room. "And now you want a medal just for helping us?"

— "A medal..." Illyria repeated thoughtfully.

Her gaze drifted for a moment into the void, as if weighing whether that would be a fitting tribute to her status. Then, a flicker of interest passed briefly through her eyes.

Angel exchanged a glance with Lindsey, then with Wesley, and his shoulders relaxed imperceptibly. Okay, maybe this would be easier than expected after all. If a medal was all it took, he could live with that.

— "Not necessarily a medal..." Illyria finally replied. "But the idea of a glory ceremony is not displeasing."

— "Oh, but we’ll even write you a speech!" Lindsey said, overacting a little. "And I could make custom T-shirts too, if you want."

Illyria seemed to consider it for a moment, then gave a slow nod.

— "I also want an offering," she added.

Sienna, who had remained mostly silent until then, gave her an innocent smile.

— "Our eternal gratitude isn’t enough?" she offered with hope.

Illyria raised an eyebrow.

— "Useless. You can’t eat it. Nor collect it."

— "Well… What exactly do you want?" Wesley replied, his calm tone reflecting his long experience dealing with Illyria.

— "A cactus," Illyria declared firmly, as though announcing a universal truth.

— "... A cactus?" Sienna repeated, while everyone exchanged incredulous looks.

— "Yes," Illyria confirmed, standing perfectly upright. "A resilient being. Armed with thorns. Able to survive in a hostile environment. I like the way it exists. I saw several during my travels. They come in various forms and shapes so I could start a collection. Give me one. Now."

Lindsey opened his mouth, then closed it again. Leaning toward the others, Sienna whispered:

— "Does anyone own a cactus?"

But everyone shook their heads.

Illyria frowned, her shoulders slumping just a millimeter, but enough for Wesley to catch her disappointment.

— "Are you willing to wait while we go out and buy one?" he asked gently. His eyes sought hers, trying to read the mystery behind them. "Or is there something else you’d like?"

She turned her head slightly toward him. In her gaze, there was a glint she showed only to him.

— "I want you to initiate me into the mating rituals of your species."

Silence fell in the room. Angel froze, mouth open, while Lindsey coughed violently to cover his laugh, and Sienna turned bright red.

— "I’m sorry, what?" Wesley asked, his face turning crimson in the space of a second.

He pushed his glasses up with a nervous gesture, clearly at a loss about how to process this request, as if his analytical mind momentarily short-circuited as he imagined what it implied.

— "I want you to initiate me into your mating rituals," Illyria repeated with the same neutral tone, as if she were simply asking for the time.

An eloquent exchange of glances passed between Angel, Lindsey, and Sienna. After suppressing what looked suspiciously like a smile, Angel discreetly gestured toward the door of his own office. By mutual agreement, they slipped away on tiptoe, Lindsey barely managing to contain the laughter threatening to burst out, and Sienna giving him a subtle but firm nudge to the ribs.

So they left Wesley and Illyria to debate the mystery of life one-on-one, the door closing softly behind them on an utterly perplexed Wesley.

Illyria smiled. Barely. But enough.

---

In the passenger seat of the car, Lindsey was reviewing his notes once more, this time with Wesley and Illyria’s remarks in mind. They had left a few hours after their strange negotiation with her. She had finally agreed to accompany them to visit the mad vampire again (well, who was perfectly sane according to her).

Wesley had insisted on joining them as well, so this time, the four of them found themselves in front of the San Carlos Borromeo mission. The edifice loomed ahead, imposing and silent, its ancient stones bathed in the pale glow of the moon that had just appeared.

The former goddess stood still, focused, her bluish hair standing out against the growing gloom. After a simple glance, the four of them headed toward the building, then down to the crypt, following the path Angel and Lindsey were beginning to know by heart. Immediately, the two men noticed the torches were lit this time. Was the vampire expecting them, or was it just a coincidence?

In any case, he was still there. Standing at the center of the crypt, he appeared to be contemplating the ceiling in rapture. His face was lit up by an ecstatic smile.

— "Mars is bright tonight..." he declared delightedly, his voice echoing off the stone walls.

Wesley pulled out a notebook, ready to transcribe the entire scene.

— "Indeed," Illyria confirmed, as if it were perfectly normal to see a planet by looking up at the ceiling. "The night promises to be red."

A few steps behind them, Angel and Lindsey exchanged a skeptical glance. Okay, those two obviously seemed to get along. Lindsey shrugged with an expression that clearly said ‘might as well see what she can learn from him’.

As soon as the vampire heard Illyria, he turned toward her, a radiant smile spreading across his face, his eyes wide with wonder.

— "You’ve come back!" he exclaimed, falling to his knees in reverence.

Illyria gave a nod in agreement, an imperceptible smile playing across her bluish lips. Everyone could tell she took great pleasure in being treated that way. Without relinquishing her regal air, she declared:

— "My companions here need information about the ritual that allows a vampire to become human again."

The vampire slowly rose to his feet. His eyes, still fixed on Illyria, shone with a strange adoration. Then, this time ignoring Lindsey, who had captivated him last time, he looked at Angel.

— "He’s stupid," the vampire remarked. "He understands nothing... remembers nothing. Not the man, not the circle... "

His features suddenly softened, his gaze drifting off, a melancholy smile on his lips.

— "The circle is red as blood and white as snow. It’s beautiful, snow... and cold... like death... But it’s not the season…" he ended in a sad murmur.

Angel frowned and, in spite of himself, tried to recall a man in the snow, surrounded by a circle of blood, something he might have forgotten. Of course, nothing came. It was probably another cryptic metaphor... or pure nonsense.

— "Indeed," Illyria approved again. "Can you elaborate on the ritual?"

The vampire turned back to her.

— "Of course, my goddess," he said with absolute deference.

He gestured broadly around him, his arms tracing a slow, ceremonial circle in the air.

— "Now and after, always circles. Everywhere. And in limbo too, engraved patterns..." he began in an amazed voice before taking a serious tone. "They drink blood."

Lindsey swallowed. Things seemed to connect in his mind. The limbo surely meant the afterlife, and the engraved patterns the symbols on the stele. And of course, blood. He knew it: there was always blood.

— "And salt, too!" the vampire added happily. "Blood’s better with salt!"

Illyria nodded, as if she understood his twisted logic.

— "Any kind?" she asked.

— "Oh no!" the vampire replied immediately. "No, of course not... The blood of the living. The echo of breath."

Angel frowned, a shadow of concern passing over his face.

— "You mean... human blood? Like a sacrifice?" he asked apprehensively.

If it involved sacrificing a human, his quest would end there. That was a line he wouldn’t cross.

The mad vampire turned to Angel. Then, baring his fangs, he stared at Lindsey, a toothy grin stretching his lips.

— "Not a sacrifice, an offering before the altar."

He moved closer to Lindsey, circling him like a predator. A few steps away, Angel tensed, ready to intervene if needed. But Illyria’s presence seemed to have a calming effect—the vampire hadn’t made a single hostile move toward anyone this time. Well, yet.

— "To offer… means to give up..." the vampire continued. "Not everything, but a part…"

He kept circling Lindsey, who stood motionless, his fingers clenched around his pocketknife. Unconsciously, his heartbeat quickened—a detail the mad vampire didn’t fail to notice. He licked his lips with undisguised relish but still made no aggressive move.

Again, Illyria nodded slowly.

— "And then?" she asked, bringing attention back to her.

— "Then..." the vampire whispered. "Then... Words. They fall. One after another. Loud. In order. Sacred. Whole."

His tone had turned solemn, as if what he was saying carried great importance. Angel and Lindsey had clearly noticed that Illyria’s presence seemed to at least keep their host focused on the matter at hand.

Having delivered his answer, the vampire began spinning in place like a top, arms spread wide, head thrown back. Wesley frowned as he continued transcribing the vampire’s words, wondering if they’d actually be able to extract a ritual from these scattered elements.

— "Are you talking about the canticle?" he cut in, pencil raised.

The vampire stopped spinning, so abruptly that the room seemed to sway. His face twisted and he looked purely offended.

— "Shhh! Not you!" he exclaimed dryly in a rapid voice. "You’re not worthy. You scratch paper, not stone."

Wesley, clearly vexed, opened his mouth to retort, but Lindsey stepped forward first, taking his chance.

— "We found the song," he declared calmly. "The song on the rock. That’s what you’re talking about, right? The sacred words, it’s the canticle?"

The vampire merely glanced around, vaguely interested. Then suddenly, he turned his head toward Angel, eyes wide with terror.

— "Silence!" he cried. "They will hear you!"

— "I didn’t say anything..." Angel protested.

But the mad vampire wasn’t done.

— "I saw them… They’re going to get you," he murmured in a suddenly fragile tone, before screaming again, looking terrified: "They take your eyes, your breath, your memories… Everything! You must run!"

Protective, Angel moved closer to the others, scanning the room. Everything looked calm. Pencil in hand, Wesley seemed to be wondering whether danger was imminent or if the vampire was talking about the ritual.

Beside him, Lindsey was frowning. The vampire hadn’t answered his question about the canticle, but if memory served, this was the second time he’d mentioned running. And if the ritual was to be practiced in the afterlife, he knew from whom.

— "But is it enough?" Illyria asked, unperturbed. "It seems a little... weak for such a magic."

At her words, the vampire straightened as if jolted with energy.

— "Of course, it’s not finished, it’s not finished!" he exclaimed, delighted to share his knowledge with his goddess. He took on a secretive air, as if to prolong suspense. "Then... you ingest..."

He licked his lips with glee, miming the act of drinking with exaggerated pleasure.

— "Drink what?" Angel asked, slightly suspicious.

The vampire froze, then, with theatrical gestures, headed toward the back of the crypt, toward the demonic pantry. It was almost empty now, but several containers of different colors remained, along with a furry ear (no doubt from a demon), and of course, the chocolate Lindsey had returned last time. The vampire reached out and grabbed the jar next to the chocolate bar. The liquid inside was thick, khaki-green, and almost glowing.

— "The Blood of Eternity," he declared, his gaze locked on the vessel.

Behind him, Wesley’s eyes widened as he understood what it was. He lifted his pen and opened his mouth to explain but the vampire suddenly sprang toward Angel.

— "You’ll take it this time?" he barked aggressively.

Angel instinctively took a step back, startled by the sudden attitude.

— "Uh... yes, yes, I’ll take it," he replied, as Wesley nodded frantically, eyes gleaming with excitement at the sight of the jar.

The mad vampire gave a satisfied look and shoved it into Angel’s hands.

— "Perfect. Bon voyage then!" he said, offering a handshake.

— "Uh... thanks..." Angel mumbled, puzzled by the mood swing. "I’m going on a trip? To… the afterlife… right?"

The vampire looked at him like he’d asked the stupidest question in the universe.

— "Yes, he’s a bit slow... I know, it’s quite distressing," Illyria agreed, shaking her head.

— "Hey!" Angel protested, offended.

But he didn’t get a chance to defend himself. The mad vampire had grabbed his arm again, pulling to get his attention. He spoke softly, as if explaining for a child.

— "Where the dead still speak. Where you’ll see light without sun."

— "The afterlife?" Lindsey insisted, hoping for a clear response.

But for all answer, the vampire smiled with all his teeth, a smile so wide it seemed almost inhuman and sent a chill down Lindsey’s spine.

— "Very well then," Illyria concluded spontaneously. "Thank you, we have what we need."

— "You’re leaving then?" the mad vampire murmured, all his frenzy evaporating as a sad expression appeared on his face. He lowered his eyes, like a child left behind.

Illyria tilted her head, observing him for a moment.

— "Perhaps we will meet again," she finally declared. "It’s always pleasant to talk to someone who truly understands you."

At these words, the vampire looked up suddenly, a dazzling smile lighting his face. He bowed deeply before Illyria, then began to dance around them, leading the way to the exit in a strange, sinuous procession, his movements both fluid and erratic.

When they reached the stairs leading to the surface, he stopped dead, staring at Lindsey with renewed intensity, just as he had the last time when he’d been so captivated by him.

Then, without warning, he came very close, his face just inches from Lindsey’s. But he wasn’t aggressive; on the contrary, he looked very happy. And, as if revealing the secret of the universe, he declared:

— "The cat is the king of the frogs! But that, everyone always forgets it..."

And with those words, he turned on his heel and wandered back to the depths of the crypt.

Lindsey watched him go, stunned, then turned to Angel with a smile.

— "I think I’m starting to like him..."

Chapter Text

The night was thick and heavy. They had left the crypt a few minutes earlier, but none of the four had spoken yet. Their footsteps crunched softly on the gravel paths as they made their way toward the car parked a little farther away.

Once they were close to the vehicle, Illyria suddenly stopped and turned to face them. Without waiting for a single question, she launched into her explanation.

— "If you were paying attention, you’ve certainly understood the main stages of the ritual..." she began, staring at Angel, Lindsey, then Wesley in turn.

They exchanged uncertain glances. The mad vampire had been less cryptic, and yes, they had picked up a few elements. But calling them stages of a ritual was a stretch...

Illyria rolled her eyes, visibly exasperated at having to explain things in terms mortals could understand.

— "Very well. Here are the foundations of the ritual, in a simplified version for you. It must be performed in front of the stele, in three phases. First, you must draw a containment circle, made of salt and human blood, freely given, around yourself and the engraved stele. Then, you must recite the canticle, clearly, in its entirety, without omission or error. And finally, you must ingest the Blood of Eternity," she finished, gesturing toward the jar Angel was holding.

The three men looked at each other. Explained in human terms rather than in cryptic language, it actually sounded… simple.

Wesley nodded. He might not have spotted the ritual's steps in the mad vampire’s nonsense, but he had understood something else.

— "The Blood of Eternity, as our disturbed friend called it, is another name for Mohra demon blood," he explained. "I should have made the connection sooner; it’s also mentioned in the canticle..."

At those words, Angel looked up, the pieces coming together in his mind.

— "I know that," he said in a low voice. "I had it in my veins once. Just... for one day."

A silence followed, heavy with memories none of the others knew. Lindsey watched the vampire out of the corner of his eye, intrigued. But this wasn’t the time.

— "But I thought all the Mohras had been wiped out, so I’d ruled out that possibility…" Angel continued in a firmer tone. "But I know how it works. Mixed with my own, that blood would be enough. No need to go down to the afterlife, no need to try this ritual… It’s actually easy!"

But Wesley stopped him with a gesture, cutting off the hope in Angel’s voice. With one hand, he took the jar, opened it, and held it under the vampire’s nose. Angel immediately recoiled, repulsed by the smell.

— "Except this..." Wesley said, "…this isn’t fresh blood. Is it?"

Angel froze, doubt creeping onto his face.

— "Well, that’s true..." he confirmed with a frown. "You mean it’s no longer usable?"

— "Less powerful, certainly," Wesley clarified. "Hence the need to perform the ritual. If you had decided to become human earlier, before the Mohras were wiped out, you could have found fresh blood and it would’ve been easier indeed..."

Lindsey frowned in turn.

— "It’s too late. They’re all dead…" he murmured, almost to himself, his gaze distant.

Wesley turned to him, puzzled.

— "Oh, sorry!" Lindsey exclaimed, snapping out of his reverie as he noticed everyone staring at him. "It’s just that…" He turned to Angel with a knowing look. "That’s what he said, right? The first time. I just remembered. That crazy vampire said they were all dead, didn’t he? He must’ve meant the Mohras..."

Angel nodded slowly, thoughtful.

— "Yeah, I think that’s what he said…" he confirmed. "I guess he’s not really insane then, just… misunderstood."

— "He also spoke of danger…" Wesley pointed out, glancing down at his notes in the moonlight.

Angel and Lindsey exchanged another look. They already knew. They had made the connection as soon as they’d understood the ritual had to be performed in the afterlife. The Morspiris.

— "They attack the living. To 'steal their breath,'" Angel explained briefly to Wesley, who had only heard a vague summary of their recent adventures.

— "They will detect you as soon as you become human, as soon as you start breathing… You won’t have much time…" murmured Lindsey, his eyes still reflecting discomfort from their previous encounter with the creatures. The memory of that breathless chase was still vivid in his mind.

Angel clenched his fists. He remembered it too. He focused, digging deeper into his recollections.

— "If I recall correctly, we stayed down there a good ten minutes before they attacked us, right? You had time to copy the pattern from the stele..."

Lindsey nodded, unconsciously running a hand over his throat.

— "So, even if they detect me the moment I breathe, I should have enough time to get back up before they wake up. Or at least get a head start…" said Angel, his voice regaining its usual confidence.

Lindsey frowned, still worried.

— "Not if you forget you need to run…" he objected seriously.

Angel looked at him, head slightly tilted, puzzled. Maybe he would be confused once human again, but he was sure he’d still have some survival instinct. At the very least, enough to know that if he were attacked, he had to run.

— "The man who forgets. The man in a red and white circle. That’s you, isn’t it? In a circle of blood and salt," Lindsey explained.

Angel frowned. Yes, maybe Lindsey was right. After all, every word could be a clue.

— "Then I’ll take your notebook and write ‘run’ in big letters so I don’t forget," he said simply.

— "I’ll highlight it. In red. With arrows everywhere," Lindsey added.

Angel chuckled, but stopped almost immediately, his expression suddenly darkening.

— "What if I don’t remember anything? What if I can’t read anymore? What if I don’t even remember you?" he murmured, worried.

Lindsey gave him a soft, mischievous smile.

— "Then I’ll draw you a pretty picture so you won’t need to be able to read to understand you have to run. And if you forget me… well… I guess I’ll just have to try to seduce you as if it were the first time we met..."

---

The air was still cool, carrying that peculiar scent you only get at that time of day, just before dawn. Angel cut the engine in solemn silence. The small motel looked even more deserted than during their last visit: they were the only guests.

The decision had to be made quickly. They had to act while the Mohra blood still had some effect left. So Angel had said his vampire goodbyes to everyone. To his son. His friends. He’d left with the strange impression that seeing them again would feel… different. And it was with Lindsey alone that he’d decided to return to Stull.

Everything was almost ready: he would be able to perform the ritual that same night.

But for now, something else entirely was on the agenda.

Lindsey said nothing as they stepped into the small room. He dropped his bag next to the bed and simply went to close the curtains. Then, he took off his coat and shirt and let himself fall onto the mattress, as if it were the most natural place for him in the world. Angel locked the door and came to sit beside him.

Then Lindsey pulled his small pocketknife from his jeans and handed it to Angel, who took it without hesitation.

— "I tie you up?" the vampire asked softly, his voice low and tender.

— "Yes," Lindsey murmured, raising his arms above his head.

Angel bent down and retrieved a pair of handcuffs from the bag. He closed them around his husband’s wrists, securing him to the bedframe. His gesture was precise. Natural. As if he knew it by heart.

— "Want me to steal a mirror from somewhere?" he added with a smirk.

Lindsey answered with a grin.

— "No… Except if it’s one where I can see you too."

Angel gave a slightly contrite look.

— "We should’ve asked Sienna…"

He let his fingers slide down Lindsey’s arms, slowly, lingering on his biceps, more defined than before. Since they had returned to L.A., Lindsey had been doing one session after another at the gym—you never know when there might be other freakishly strong specters to fight. It had accentuated his muscles and Angel took his time running his hands over them.

— "Trying to compete with your brother?" the vampire teased.

— "I’d need at least ten years for that…" Lindsey replied with a smile that Angel returned.

Little by little, his hands moved down, touching, caressing. Lindsey’s skin was warm. Angel’s palms were cold. Without realizing it, Lindsey closed his eyes, letting go, simply enjoying the tenderness of the moment.

— "Can you blindfold me too?" he asked after a few minutes. "Just at the beginning. For the surprise. After that, I wanna see you."

— "Anything you want," Angel murmured.

Lindsey smiled and opened his eyes to meet his husband’s gaze.

— "I love you."

Angel answered with a kiss, then bent down again to grab a scarf from the bag. Suddenly, Lindsey wondered if Angel would still be like this in bed, once he became human.

— "What about you? Is there something you want?" Lindsey asked in return.

Angel thought for a moment, playing with the scarf, his eyes tracing the muscles beneath him as if he wanted to etch them into his memory forever.

— "Let me bite you," he finally said.

Lindsey nodded with a smile. He was counting on that himself.

Angel gently tied the scarf around Lindsey’s eyes, and the world went dark.

— "Still ‘red’?" the vampire asked, wanting to confirm the safe word.

— "Always," Lindsey replied.

— "You don’t hesitate if it’s too much," Angel murmured. "Even if it’s… I mean, don’t hesitate."

He hadn’t dared to say ‘the last time’. But the words were there, hanging in the air between them.

— "Promise," Lindsey replied, knowing he wouldn’t need to.

Angel nodded even though Lindsey couldn’t see it. He took the knife in his hand and let it glide slowly across his husband’s bare chest—not cutting, just a brush of cold metal against warm skin.

Lindsey shivered. He loved that feeling, between anticipation and trust.

— "More…" he demanded in a whisper.

Angel did it again, pressing slightly harder this time, the blade tracing a sinuous line like an inspired painter. Lindsey didn’t move, but his breathing changed, becoming shorter, choppier. His heartbeat picked up. Gradually, scratches began to pattern his chest with red. Some light, others deeper, making him gasp or jolt with a mix of pain and pleasure.

— "You’re beautiful…" Angel murmured, collecting a drop of blood from his chest and bringing it to his lips. Even in such a small amount, it was intoxicating. "Pretty as a picture…"

Lindsey smiled, recognizing the lyric of his old song.

— "And this time, I can feel everything…" he replied, flipping the line around.

In response, Angel tightened his grip on the knife, and the blade bit deep, eliciting a groan from Lindsey.

— "God, you’re gonna burn me all…" he murmured, feeling the pleasure build.

Angel smiled and let his hands travel down Lindsey’s thighs, up to his crotch. Despite the jeans, he could feel Lindsey’s erection through the fabric.

— "Lift your hips," he asked simply.

Lindsey obeyed, and moments later he was naked, legs spread. Angel had thus expanded his playground, this time running the blade along the inside of his thighs, where the skin was hypersensitive. The sensation was even more intense, and Lindsey couldn’t stop the moans escaping his lips.

— "Harder, Angel…" he urged. "Make it hurt."

The vampire hesitated. That wasn’t really the goal… At least, not like that. But he understood. He wanted all, too.

He set the knife on the nightstand, earning a protesting sound from Lindsey, and quickly removed his own clothes. He was hard too, his cock rigid just from the sight of his husband, bound, blindfolded, naked and aroused. And from the intoxicating scent of his blood... He stayed like that a moment, just enjoying the view. He wanted to remember that image. The sound of his breathing. He let his hand glide over Lindsey’s reddened chest. He wanted to remember the warmth of that body against his cool palm. Instinctively, his fingers pinched a nipple and Lindsey moaned again.

— "Harder, Angel! Hurt me!" Lindsey repeated in a hoarse voice, squirming. "Bite me!"

— "Soon, baby. Soon. Let me enjoy this first…" Angel murmured. "Open your mouth."

Lindsey obeyed, and immediately felt two fingers caress his tongue.

— "You’re gonna need to open wider…" Angel said after a brief moment.

Lindsey smiled, anticipating what was coming, and opened up.

Seconds later, Angel was positioning himself above his face, slipping his cock between his lips. Lindsey welcomed him with a sigh. Angel spread his knees a bit wider, one hand on the wall to steady himself, the other tangled in Lindsey’s hair.

— "Relax… just let me," he murmured, pushing deeper.

Lindsey stifled a moan. He loved this. The suffocating sensation and this position where Angel had total control. Restrained, blindfolded, he had no choice but to surrender. Only his tongue was free. And he made good use of it. He felt Angel tense slightly above him, his thighs tightening around his face.

— "Fuck, that’s good…" the vampire muttered, eyes closed.

He started a slow but deep back-and-forth motion, until he felt Lindsey’s throat contract. With every movement, Angel felt him open a little more, gradually taking him all the way down his throat without rejection. Pleasure was building. Fast. Lindsey’s tongue was so hot against his cock. If it kept up, he wouldn’t last long. Beneath him, Lindsey pulled on the restraints, moaning again, and it took all of Angel’s focus not to come too quickly. Without really knowing how, he held back and withdrew, shifting away slightly on the bed.

With a smile, Angel softly traced Lindsey’s wet, red lips with his thumb, then leaned in to kiss him tenderly.

— "I could die like this…" he whispered against his mouth.

Then, without warning, Angel positioned himself between Lindsey’s thighs, lifted his leg and thrust into him in one hard stroke.

— "Aaah!"

Lindsey’s cry caught in his throat, still raw from the blowjob he’d just given. His head fell back, and he tugged hard at the handcuffs. It wasn’t the first time Angel had taken him without prep. But with the blindfold on, he hadn’t expected it now…

Impatient, the vampire didn’t wait for Lindsey to adjust either. After all, he’d asked harder, to get hurt even. So Angel started straight away with a fast, brutal rhythm. He needed it. Desperately. Needed to feel his warmth. To leave his mark, inside him. He wanted to possess him, to claim him completely. Lindsey was moaning without restraint now. His body tensed, and Angel felt his muscles contract around him.

They didn’t hold back—neither of them. Not this time. The bed creaked under their movements. Angel looked down and saw Lindsey come without even being touched. His stomach tightened, then stained with white as his mouth opened in a hoarse cry. Angel followed only moments later, his own climax crashing over him in an overwhelming wave.

He collapsed onto Lindsey’s come-slick chest and, unable to resist, took one nipple between his fangs and bit. He didn’t drink much, just a few sips, to accompany his orgasm, and for the sheer pleasure of hearing Lindsey moan his name and feeling him arch beneath him, lifting his body to maximize the sensation.

— "Yes…" Lindsey managed to say in a whisper. "That’s good, fuck that’s so good…"

Angel moved to the other nipple, gentler now. Just a kiss. Then a faint bite. Light this time. Lindsey murmured between gasps. Curses. Incoherent fragments. His name. Liam! Angel felt himself harden again while still inside him.

Finally, the vampire pulled back and slowly withdrew. Angel’s gaze immediately went to where his come was beginning to leak from Lindsey's entrance. He frowned. There was blood mixed in. Instantly, concern flickered across his features, fearing he’d been too rough. Gently, he leaned in and removed the blindfold. Lindsey’s face was flushed and he had tears at the corners of his eyes. But his expression and his grin were those of a fulfilled man.

— "I’m fine.." Lindsey said softly, reading the question in Angel’s eyes as he was trying to catch his breath. "All green."

Reassured, Angel smiled and let his gaze roam over the erotic sight before him, a renewed hunger building within again. Slowly, he slid his fingers inside Lindsey, as if to push his come back into him.

Lindsey moaned. He hadn’t fully recovered from his orgasm and already Angel’s fingers were caressing his prostate again. Slowly. Intensely.

— "Fuck, you’re really gonna kill me…" Lindsey whispered, lost in sensation.

Angel smiled and decided to take it further. Without stopping his fingers, he reached for the knife. A new scratch, light, left another red line across Lindsey’s belly, and he moaned. The blindfold was gone now, but he had closed his eyes, as if to prolong the phase of anticipation. He could feel Angel’s presence, his cool fingers deep inside, making him melt, and the biting caress of the blade, cool too on his burning skin.

When Lindsey was hard again, Angel pulled out and paused to admire him. Lindsey opened his eyes, their gazes locked. Then he nodded briefly.

Angel tightened his grip on the knife. And Lindsey closed his eyes again, surrendering fully, as Angel slowly slid the blade lower, until it reached the tense shaft of his lover.

Lindsey’s heart skipped a beat. He remembered the last time. The sharpness of the blade. The pain. The incredible pleasure that had followed when Angel had sucked him.

Aware of the emotions rushing through his husband, the vampire took his time, dragging the blade delicately up and down, barely grazing.

— "Angel…" Lindsey murmured.

His voice was pleading.

Angel smiled and pressed just enough to draw a drop of blood.

— "Ah!" Lindsey gasped.

It was more surprise than pain: the blade had barely nicked the skin. But he pulled at the cuffs.

— "Angel, I… I want…"

— "Yes?" the vampire asked. "Talk to me, my love…"

Lindsey hesitated.

— "I… I need you to… Bite me," he finally blurted in a low voice.

— "Then open your eyes and look at me," Angel told him.

Lindsey obeyed, and under his gaze, Angel shifted. Lindsey’s heart skipped a beat. Not from fear, but from anticipation. He knew this would be so different from the knife, knew it would push him beyond anything they'd explored before. More painful. More intense too.

— "Ready?" the vampire asked, voice thick with desire.

Lindsey nodded, suddenly speechless. His heart hammered against his ribs. But he didn’t look away when Angel took his cock in hand, even as his body trembled with a hint of genuine fear. Sensing his lover’s internal battle, the vampire gently stroked the sensitive skin at the top.

— "Don’t move…" he warned, as Lindsey spread his thighs a little wider.

Then Angel leaned down and bit.

A cry tore from Lindsey’s lips as the fangs sank in, delicately but deeper than the blade ever had. This time, it was pure pain, searing, burning. He felt like he was on fire from the inside out. His back arched in an uncontrollable spasm, but Angel held him firmly in place, Lindsey’s scream echoing in his ears. It lasted only a moment, and the vampire withdrew his fangs. Then, instantly regaining his human face, he took him into his mouth and sucked.

Again, Lindsey cried out. The pain ripped through his nerves, but the pleasure quickly took over. God, that felt so good. Keeping one hand on Lindsey’s hip to hold him still, Angel slid the other between his ass cheeks, his fingers finding again that sensitive spot deep inside him, eliciting more cries from Lindsey.

His screams weren’t stopping, and Angel thought they were lucky to be alone in this motel. With every suck, every caress of his fingers, he felt Lindsey losing himself a little more. He was crying now. Angel could hear him sobbing. Of pleasure, of pain, of too much at once. Again, Lindsey came. Harder. Longer.

Come mixed with blood on Angel’s tongue, and he sucked again as Lindsey’s cock pulsed in his mouth. It was good. So good he couldn’t stop. Not now. Angel felt his own shaft twitch and he reached down. He needed release now. And he came. Almost immediately. Simply overwhelmed by Lindsey’s voice and the taste of his lover in his mouth.

He stayed there a moment, his forehead resting on Lindsey’s lower belly. He wanted to remember it all. The savor of his blood, his come, his human warmth. He etched every sensation into memory. This was the last time he would drink from him like this. The last time he would feed on him.

When he finally looked up, his lips were smeared with blood and a fine thread of come trickled down his chin. Immediately, he turned his gaze to Lindsey, worried by his silence.

His lover’s eyes were closed and tears streaked his cheeks.

— "Lin?" he murmured, quickly sitting up, a shiver of panic running through him.

Lindsey didn’t answer. But his face was calm, his breathing steady, his heartbeat almost regular. Angel let out a soft smile.

— "You never do anything halfway, huh?" he whispered, relieved to see Lindsey had simply passed out.

Gently, he stroked his still-damp cheek. Then he carefully unlocked the handcuffs.

Tenderly, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. Then another, to his temple.

— "I love you."

Chapter Text

— "Are you okay?" Angel asked, gently passing a damp towel over his husband’s face.

— "Yeah…" Lindsey murmured, gradually regaining his senses.

He slightly shifted in the bed, a bit tired and sore. But the presence of Angel, holding him tight in his arms, seemed to erase the pain.

— "I… I had a bit of a panic," Angel admitted. "I mean… You… you were crying and… You’ve never cried so hard you fainted before… You didn’t forget the safe word, right? Was it… too much?"

— "Huh… I… Yeah, maybe it was a little too much…" Lindsey confessed. "But… but it was perfect. For today, it was perfect. I don’t regret anything. I didn’t pass out from the pain. I mean, I don’t think so…"

Angel didn’t answer. Yes, it had been perfect. He understood. Not knowing what tomorrow might bring, he too had craved everything.

— "Was I out long?" Lindsey asked.

— "No, I just had time to pull myself together, clean up a little, and just enjoy feeling you against me for a moment."

As he said this, he moved back slightly, then got up.

Lindsey frowned. He too would’ve liked to enjoy that moment. Just a minute or two. Or an hour or two. Or maybe a year or two.

Angel returned with a small square box and sat next to him on the bed. With a surprisingly shy smile, he handed the gift to his husband.

Curious, Lindsey carefully sat up, a faint groan escaping him as he moved. He glanced down at his crotch to check the two little marks of fangs. Angel had been really delicate: they were barely visible. But it felt like the sensation lingered even now. A strange mix of pain and comfort. Lindsey blushed before refocusing on the present.

— "It’s not Christmas yet…" he noted, taking the case.

— "And it’s too small to be a sword or mirror…" Angel replied.

Lindsey chuckled. Right, that’s what he had asked for Christmas… With a simple gesture, he opened the box. Inside, resting on a small cushion, was a plain gold ring.

— "An earring?" Lindsey asked, surprised.

Angel tilted his head slightly, hesitating.

— "Well… It’s true you were wearing earrings when you came back to Los Angeles years ago. And that it looked good on you. With your sexy tattoos, it gave you a real ‘bad boy’ vibe… But no, that’s not an earring," the vampire clarified.

Now it was Lindsey’s turn to tilt his head, puzzled.

— "You don’t have to accept it if you don’t want to…" Angel murmured. He tenderly brushed a fingertip over Lindsey’s nipple. "If everything goes right, in a few hours, I won’t be able to bite you anymore… And I know that’s one of your favorite spots, so…"

Lindsey’s eyes widened. He’d never considered a piercing. He looked again at the little golden ring nestled in the box.

Handing it to Angel, he lay back down.

— "Will you put it in?"

Angel smiled and bent down to grab a small kit from the bag beside the bed. He pulled out alcohol, a sterile needle, and gauze pads.

— "Are you sure?" he asked.

— "Certain," Lindsey confirmed with a confident smile, folding his arms under his head.

Angel nodded and lowered his gaze. Lindsey’s chest was covered with small red marks. It rose and fell gently. Angel couldn’t help placing his hand on it. He could hear his heart beating softly, steadily. Unconsciously, his throat tightened at the thought of losing that distinctive sound.

He shook his head. He didn’t want to think about what he was going to lose. He had far more to gain by becoming human—starting with a heart that beat too.

— "Right or left?" he said as he soaked a gauze pad with alcohol.

— "Left, of course," Lindsey answered without hesitation. "Heart side."

Angel nodded, appreciating the symbol. He carefully disinfected the area, making Lindsey shiver from the coolness of the alcohol. Methodically, he concentrated and gently pinched the nipple between his fingers, checking the angle. Then, in one precise motion, he pierced. Lindsey gritted his teeth but didn’t flinch. The pain was there, but definitely not the same as a bite.

— "You okay?" Angel asked immediately, removing the needle and slipping the ring into place.

— "Sure. I think we’ve already established I’m not opposed to a little pain, haven’t we?"

Angel smiled. Yeah, that was true. He grabbed a clean gauze pad and finished by carefully disinfecting again.

Lindsey glanced down to see the result. The golden ring contrasted with his still-reddened skin. It looked a little strange. He suddenly wondered if it would show through a shirt.

— "Do you like it?" Angel murmured when he saw Lindsey lost in thought.

— "Yeah. I think so. I’ll need a bit of time to get used to it."

He lifted his hand to touch the piercing with his fingertips and couldn’t help imagining Angel delicately tugging on it or teasing it with his tongue during one of their future encounters. The thought made him blush and he quickly dropped his hand, as if burned.

Angel smiled and, as if echoing his husband’s fantasy, leaned in and placed a light kiss on the freshly pierced nipple, as if to ease the pain or to officially seal the gift.

---

Everything was ready. Or almost.

Silent and focused, the vampire set to work. Methodically, he lined up the necessary items on the nightstand: sterile needle, blood bags, alcohol, bandages,…

Lying on the bed, Lindsey watched him confidently. Clearly, this wasn’t the most dangerous part of the ritual.

Angel checked the needle one last time, then sat on the edge of the bed. His eyes landed on the tourniquet tightened around Lindsey’s bare arm and the blue vein standing out against his tanned skin.

— "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked in a low voice.

— "Of course. You’re not going down there with anyone’s blood but mine," Lindsey assented with a calm smile.

Angel nodded but didn’t move. His gaze remained fixed on Lindsey’s arm, as if hypnotized.

— "Angel?" Lindsey murmured after nearly a minute, placing a hand on his thigh. "Are you okay?"

The vampire looked up, brought back to reality by Lindsey’s touch.

— "Yeah, it’s just…"

He trailed off, his brow furrowed and his hand suspended in midair, the needle halfway to its goal.

Lindsey looked at him, one eyebrow raised in a slightly mocking expression.

— "Angel, honey, you’re a vampire, you bit me a few hours ago in far more sensitive places, you just pierced me… and now you’re freaking out about putting a little needle in my arm?"

His voice held an amused tenderness and Angel couldn’t help but smile sheepishly.

— "It’s not the same…" he muttered.

But he shook his head, refocused, and inserted the needle with care. Blood began to flow immediately into the transparent tube, filling the bag. Angel watched it for a few seconds, an unreadable expression on his face as he stared at the red stream. Then he got up and deliberately went to sit on the other side of the bed.

Silence settled in. Not oppressive. But it gave way to thoughts.

— "Lindsey…" Angel suddenly began, "when I’m human again, I… I might need some time to…"

— "To love me?"

Though asked calmly, Lindsey’s question carried a vulnerability that made Angel lift his head.

— "No, that… that’ll be a given," he answered, with all the assurance he could muster despite his own doubts.

— "To… adjust?" Lindsey offered.

— "Yeah… to… to get back on my feet. To resume a ‘normal’ life…" Angel explained, casting a glance out the window as if already picturing himself in the sunlight.

— "I know. I’m not stupid…" Lindsey murmured softly, following his gaze.

— "No, you’re not. But I don’t want you to think that… that I don’t want you anymore. I mean… Just… don’t be too impatient, okay?"

There was a note of pleading in his voice, revealing the doubts that had haunted him since he’d made his decision months ago.

Lindsey straightened a little, wedging the pillow behind his back.

— "I know. We’ll take our time. Your pace," he said in a reassuring tone. He understood Angel’s concerns. He had the same.

He shifted on the bed, allowing Angel to lie down closer to him, their proximity creating a small intimate bubble. Tenderly, he placed his free hand on the vampire’s thigh.

— "Do you want to take your ring off?" he asked softly.

Angel looked at him, surprised.

— "What?"

— "To make it easier. While you get used to… the human emotions and sensations you’ll be dealing with."

Lindsey was speaking with quiet understanding, well aware this wouldn’t be an easy time for his husband. He wanted to make sure Angel knew he’d have all the support he needed, even if it meant going through an adaptation period where he’d have to set his feelings aside.

— "I don’t need to take off my ring for that,” Angel declared, shaking his head, firm.

— "Okay. Just know that if you do, I won’t be mad. We’ll go at your pace. Even if that means living separate lives for a while. I love you."

Those last words were spoken with disarming simplicity and warmth, and Angel felt his throat tighten. He covered Lindsey’s hand with his own, letting their rings overlap.

— "That’s not going to happen. We’re not separating," he assured, staring at Lindsey like he wanted to etch him into memory. "Vampire or human, I’m yours forever. Yes, I’ll be different. But I believe in us. And I want to believe you’ll love the man I’m going to become. A different Liam."

Lindsey’s eyes shone with a strange gleam at the name. Angel rarely used it himself.

— "I hope that Liam will love the Lindsey I am," he murmured, his voice hesitant, as if afraid to show his own doubts while Angel tried to overcome his.

— "I’m sure of it."

Angel’s conviction filled the room, and Lindsey smiled. They had no choice anyway but to believe in their feelings. Their grip tightened slightly, as if to confirm silently that decision.

After a few minutes of silence, during which they simply enjoyed their entwined hands, Angel spoke again:

— "Lindsey?"

— "Yeah?"

— "That goes for you too," the vampire declared.

— "What?" Lindsey asked, momentarily confused.

— "Well, I won’t be the same… So if you want to take your ring off, I won’t be mad either…"

Lindsey shook his head, confident.

— "No, that won’t happen either."

His voice carried a quiet certainty that lightened a little the weight that had formed in Angel’s throat, and he nodded, relieved.

Silence settled again in the small room, more serene this time. The afternoon wore on, and Angel soon replaced the full blood bag with a fresh one. A single bag should be enough, but they’d decided to be cautious—it was a key part of the ritual.

Angel let his thoughts wander as he watched the second one slowly fill, while Lindsey felt a light drowsiness come over him.

A few minutes later, Angel stood and gently removed the needle from Lindsey’s arm. A small bead of blood trickled out. For a moment, he stared at the tiny wound, then, unable to resist, he leaned in and ran his tongue over it, a shiver racing down his spine as he tasted Lindsey’s blood one last time.

— "You taste good. So good."

Lindsey replied with a simple but understanding smile, and the vampire applied a small bandage over the wound, sealing that chapter of his story once and for all. It would surely be one of the things they would both miss. That connection had been a powerful part of their relationship.

Slowly, Lindsey closed his eyes, feeling sleep pulling at him. The sun wasn’t down yet; he still had a few hours to rest before accompanying Angel to the cemetery for the ritual.

---

Angel was busy in the small room, silent, checking the contents of the bag for the umpteenth time: the carefully packed salt, Lindsey’s notebook, the freshly drawn blood bags. Everything was ready.

On the bed, Lindsey had woken up and was calmly watching his partner. Fatigue still lingered in his features, but there was a spark of determination in his eyes.

— "Are we ready?" he asked, slowly sitting up.

Angel closed the bag, nodded, and simply replied:

— "Yeah, we’re ready."

They had already told each other everything. The rest… needed no words. There was a quiet gravity in the air, a silent understanding that neither of them wanted to break with unnecessary talk.

They left the room without a sound and got into the car, heading toward the cemetery.

Outside, night had fallen.

Angel parked in the same place as last time and they stepped out. The gate had been repaired since their last visit. Angel looked at it for a moment, then broke it open with a precise kick: he would be human upon his return, and maybe not in any condition to climb anything. Better to be prepared.

They walked into the cemetery in silence. Under the pale glow of the moon, they could make out the leaning headstones, the ruined church silhouetted in the shadows. As they approached, its massive, broken shape seemed to lean toward them, menacing. Angel slowed down. Just before the crumbling porch, he turned to Lindsey. This was where their paths would part.

Lindsey swallowed hard. A fear, brutal, icy, coiled in his stomach. He was simply terrified. He tried to find something to say — one last joke, a promise, a word of encouragement — but his throat was so tight he couldn’t even make a single sound.

Sensing Lindsey’s fear despite all his efforts to hide it, Angel reached out and pulled him close. Their bodies pressed against each other in a strong, desperate embrace. Angel buried his face in Lindsey’s neck, committing his scent and warmth to memory. Then he found his lips. Their kiss was anything but reasonable: it was hungry, trembling, endless. Like a first kiss. Like a last.

When they finally pulled apart, Lindsey’s eyes were shining with tears and his throat was still knotted with an emotion too strong to be spoken. Without a word, he raised his hands and formed a heart with his fingers, as if he were suddenly mute again.

Across from him, Angel smiled softly and mirrored the gesture, silent too.

Then he turned and walked into the ruins of the church. He moved forward without looking back, afraid his courage might fail him.

Lindsey remained outside, frozen, heart pounding far too fast.

Now began the waiting. The ritual was simple and quick, but time was measured differently in the afterlife. He would have to be patient. But waiting in the car wasn’t an option. He would stay right there. All night long. All his life long, if he had to.

Unable to stay standing, he sat on the edge of a forgotten grave, letting his emotions show freely on his face now. They had talked about their doubts and concerns regarding what Angel might be as human, but not about what would happen if the ritual failed, or if the Morspiris were faster than expected. They hadn’t dared to face the question.

Now, Lindsey wasn’t afraid of Angel coming back changed. He was afraid he wouldn’t come back at all.

Chapter Text

Angel stepped into the dilapidated nave. Nothing had changed over the past few weeks, and he knew exactly where to go. But this time, he was alone.

When he reached the basement, he paused, staring at the carved arcade as if to gather his resolve. Then he bit his own wrist and pressed it against the stone. Just like last time, the runes lit up instantly, and in a flash, the passage opened, revealing the staircase leading to the afterlife.

As soon as Angel crossed it, the portal closed behind him with a whisper. The vampire wasted no time and pulled a small empty vial from his bag. He let some of his blood drip into it, then placed it on the ground in plain sight before the reddened stone. It was his only ticket back. If the ritual worked and he truly returned human, this vial of vampire blood would be the only way to reopen the portal.

Then he turned toward the worn staircase.

The descent felt steeper than he remembered. Faster too. Maybe because he was mentally focused on the ritual, rehearsing each step in his mind. The salt. The offered blood. The Mohra blood. He recited the canticle once more, making sure he’d forgotten no lines and was pronouncing everything correctly. He had written it down on paper, but he had still memorized it, just in case…

Once downstairs, his introspection gave way to wariness. He remembered the place, and especially what ‘lived’ there. The dead seemed harmless, but the Morspiris were not far away. Even if he had nothing to fear from them while he was still a vampire, Angel quickened his pace.

He passed the rock where he had hidden with Lindsey last time and headed for the room with the stele, trying to ignore the dead who had noticed him. Yet he could feel their eyes on him. They were staring at the bag.

Lindsey’s blood. Human blood.

Angel clenched his jaw, suddenly wondering if the mere presence of this blood might alert the Morspiris. After all, he knew almost nothing about those creatures.

— "No. It’s the breath of the living that attracts them, not the blood…" he muttered to himself, seeking some reassurance.

He accelerated again.

Finally, the tunnel widened to reveal the great hall. The standing stone awaited him at the center. He reached it at a run and immediately began unpacking the contents of his bag with methodical care, laying out each item needed for the ritual. At last, he opened Lindsey’s notebook and placed it in plain view. A reminder that the Morspiris would come. A reminder to run, even if he forgot why he was there.

The message made him smile in spite of the stressful situation.

A giant RUN! circled in red and decorated with absurd arrows covered almost the entire page. And just below it, a little drawing of himself running. Clearly inferior in quality to his own artistic skills, but so typically Lindsey.

Refocusing, Angel knelt, took the bag of salt, and picked up a pinch between his fingers. Slowly, he began to draw a circle around the stele and himself, forming a white barrier. A few steps away, the dead were watching him intently, surely wondering what he was doing.

Once the circle was complete, Angel repeated the process, this time with Lindsey’s blood. The red liquid mixed with the whitish salt, and the dead stirred a little more but didn’t come any closer. Inside the circle, Angel didn’t give them a glance. He was focused. It was time.

Closing his eyes, he placed one hand on the stone, as if to support himself. That part wasn’t in the ritual, but surely it couldn’t hurt, right?

Out loud, he recited each verse slowly, doing his best to match the rhythm and strange accents of this ancient language. When the final word left his lips, it seemed to him that the stele tingled beneath his fingers. But maybe that was just his imagination.

One step remained. Angel reached for the jar on the ground and opened it.

The scent of the Mohra blood hit him immediately, acrid, almost fetid, like something metallic and rotten all at once. Nothing like the sweet scent of Lindsey’s blood emanating from the circle. Angel grimaced but brought the jar to his lips. The texture was even worse than the smell. The liquid was thick and viscous and slid heavily over his tongue before crawling down his throat. He swallowed it all.

Just a few seconds after setting the now-empty jar down, Angel felt an intense heat rise through his body, like a burn. His vision blurred, and he staggered, clinging to the stele to keep from falling over completely. Maybe drinking tainted Mohra blood hadn’t been such a great idea, he thought before everything went dark.

---

When he opened his eyes again, Angel realized he was still standing. Instinctively, he drew in a deep breath, like a drowning man breaking the surface. Air entered his lungs with an abruptness that made him wobble, and immediately, memories flooded.

Fragmented images from a distant past. Memories of before, from his human life. And from his vampire life too. Darkness, screams, blood. It was hard. Violent. The memories burned. His throat was burning too. God, it had been so long since he’d breathed. Now it was as if his body were screaming, as if reclaiming everything it had been deprived of.

Angel shut his eyes tightly. Too much in his mind. He staggered. Everything swayed as he tried to regain his bearings.

Eventually, after he couldn’t have said how long, his head stopped spinning, and he opened his eyes again.

As if by instinct, his gaze fell on the notebook lying on the ground. What was that again? It was important, wasn’t it? He squinted, but the word, big as it was, was blurred, and the sketch beneath it seemed to swirl without making sense. Again, he closed his eyes, trying to focus. This was important. He knew it was. He didn’t know why, but it was.

He forced himself to look at the letters that seemed to dance before his eyes.

RUN!

The word exploded in his mind like an alarm. A flash of clarity struck him. He was alive. Human. And he had nothing to do here.

As if to confirm his sudden realization, the dead began to part and whisper around him. And further away, a cracking sound echoed.

Angel turned. The walls were groaning, splitting open. God, how long had it been since the ritual had ended? Ten minutes already? No, it couldn’t be… Yet the Morspiris seemed to be awakening, drawn to his living breath.

His chest rose and fell rapidly now, and for the first time, Angel became aware that his heart was beating. And that it was beating fast. Without really knowing why, he bent down, grabbed the notebook, and shoved it into his pocket. Then he took a deep breath that burned his throat, not used to it, and held it by covering his mouth and nose with his hand.

Crossing the circle of blood and salt without another glance, he began to run. The dead groaned behind him, but the Morspiris had stopped advancing as soon as he held his breath.

He ran. Without looking back. He quickly left the great hall, only forced to breathe twice. Each time, the Morspiris stirred—patient, drifting—but Angel had the advantage. He knew the way out, and his brain had finally decided to cooperate, reminding him how these creatures worked. He deliberately chose where to breathe: far from them, before running in the opposite direction, toward the tunnels.

Eventually, the staircase appeared before him. It looked endless. The climb was agony. His newly human legs burned, and he had to stop at every landing to breathe, each time drawing the Morspiris closer.

Finally, he reached the top, his heart on the verge of exploding, the creatures right behind him. On the ground, right where he’d left it, the little vial of vampire blood still waited.

With a desperate gesture, Angel grabbed it and smashed it against the stone. The arcade lit up instantly, and Angel stepped through as soon as he could, breathing deeply.

He was alive.

He had made it.

His legs were shaking, he was out of breath, but he had made it. Internally, he promised himself that he’d never make fun of Lindsey for being out of shape again when it came to running.

Lindsey.

The name struck him out of nowhere.

Angel looked down at his left hand. The ring was still there. It shone softly despite the darkness of the basement. His thumb brushed it automatically. It felt strange. Almost too much. As if it belonged to someone else. He hadn’t had time yet to process anything. All he’d done was run. Survive.

But now, in this basement between worlds, he could finally stop. Sort things out.

He closed his eyes and tried to focus. On what he was feeling. On what he was supposed to feel. On who he simply was.

But nothing was clear.

Everything was too new. Too strange. His own body felt both familiar and foreign, like a too-tight garment worn again after centuries. He felt empty and full at the same time. He didn’t even know where to start.

He couldn’t say how long he stayed there like that, trying to put his emotions, feelings, and sensations into words. With no real success. Finally, he shook his head, as if deciding it didn’t matter. He left the underground crypt and climbed the stairs. Someone was waiting for him up there.

The church was still silent. Still in ruins. Daylight filtered through the broken stained glass: the sun had risen. Instinctively, he stepped closer to get a better look at the brightness.

Out there. Just there. Lindsey.

As if captivated, Angel watched him for a moment. Lindsey was pacing nervously, head bowed. In full sunlight.

A place Angel could go now too. Once more, he tried to put his mind in order. He knew Lindsey was important. He knew he loved him. He knew it. He was sure of it.

Then Lindsey looked up.

Their eyes met through the stained glass. Lindsey widened his eyes and let out a sigh of relief as soon as he saw him, followed by a radiant smile. Then he hesitated, doubt resurfacing suddenly. Slowly, he made his way toward the ruined entrance of the church. So did Angel. Each advanced on their own side of the world, both hesitant and eager.

Angel stopped just on the threshold, where the shadow ended. Lindsey stood a few meters away, facing him, bathed in light. Stiff, frozen in tense expectation, eyes shining. His mouth was slightly open, as if he didn’t dare believe. He wasn’t moving. He was waiting for Angel to take the first step.

Their eyes met again, and even at this distance, it became obvious to Angel. Not a memory, a certainty.

He took a brisk step, crossing the threshold without hesitation.

But he came to a sudden halt, blinded. The daylight hit his face like a blow. It was brutal. Disorienting. Dazzling. Lindsey was dazzling too, like an anchor in this bright chaos.

Without another second of doubt, Angel stepped forward to join him.

Lindsey smiled softly. Angel’s ring was gleaming in the sunlight. He hadn’t taken it off. Relief instantly relaxed his features. He wanted to say something, but didn’t get the chance.

Angel placed his lips on his. A little roughly, a little clumsily.

But instantly, Angel stopped.

He stayed there, frozen, his lips against his husband’s, as if he were simply discovering the contact.

Lindsey felt all his muscles tense from the change. He tried to stay still, to give him time.

Angel’s lips were barely moving on his. But they were warm. Well, lukewarm. But it was such a change from his vampire’s coldness. It was new. Intense.

Lindsey closed his eyes. He wanted to taste his tongue, but didn’t want to rush anything. So he just stood there, patient, exchanging faint kisses. Almost chaste. Then, he simply placed one hand on Angel’s hip and the other on his cheek, encouraging without pushing. Guiding without imposing.

Finally, Angel parted his lips. Just a little. Their breaths mingled, then their tongues found each other. It was just as soft. Warm. Moist. Lindsey felt himself melt. That warmth… It was as if he’d forgotten what it was like to kiss a human.

Neither of them could have said how long the kiss lasted. But when they pulled apart, their breathing was shallow, and their cheeks flushed.

— "I love you," Lindsey whispered tenderly, his eyes shimmering with emotion.

Angel opened his mouth. He stood there, suspended. Then closed it again. He didn’t answer.

Too soon. Okay, no problem, Lindsey thought.

— "Shall we go back to the motel?" he asked gently.

Angel nodded. Still without a word. Suddenly, he seemed fragile.

Lindsey couldn’t help taking his hand to guide him.

They reached the car in silence, and a moment later, the engine hummed softly in the morning stillness. Lindsey was driving, eyes on the road, though he glanced occasionally at the passenger seat.

Beside him, Angel remained silent. He seemed elsewhere. Lost between an inner world and the landscape slipping past the window. He was taking stock. Of what had changed. What was new.

He lowered the glass, letting the sunlight touch his skin without any protective barrier. A cool breeze rushed into the car. It smelled like … the countryside. And a hint of gasoline—something he remembered noticing on the way there. But it was fainter, almost imperceptible now that he was human.

He felt a chill run down his back and realized he was cold.

Next to him, Lindsey shivered too, and Angel closed the window back up calmly, without a word.

They continued their way, in silence. Lindsey was dying to speak. To ask questions. So many questions. About what Angel was feeling. About what he’d experienced down there, in the afterlife. But he said nothing, letting Angel have the time he needed. He didn’t even ask the most important one.

Do you still love me?

If he went by the kiss in the cemetery, the answer was yes. But he still would have liked to hear it. Just to reassure himself.

---

The motel finally came into view and Lindsey turned off the engine. Angel didn’t move right away. But when Lindsey got out of the car, he followed, and they climbed the stairs to their room in a slightly awkward silence.

Lindsey glanced over at him, unsure how to behave. Should he act normally? Should he give him space?

— "Do you want to… take a shower?" he asked eventually in a soft voice.

Angel frowned slightly and looked down at his wrinkled shirt, at his arms covered in dust. He nodded slowly.

With care, Lindsey led him inside the small room, opened the bathroom door, pulled out a clean towel, and laid out a pair of pajamas.

Then he hesitated. He hoped Angel still remembered how to use a shower, because he didn’t want to impose himself.

— "Just… take all the time you need," he murmured as he stepped back.

He left the bathroom and pulled the door shut without fully closing it, then sat down on the bed, losing himself in his thoughts.

A few moments passed. Then a short, muffled cry rang out.

— "Angel?!" Lindsey immediately exclaimed, jumping up.

He threw the door open without waiting for permission. Angel was standing against the shower wall, the water streaming just a few inches from him.

— "Too hot," he said simply, his voice hoarse.

These were the first words he’d spoken. Lindsey relaxed, relieved to finally hear his voice, and that it was nothing serious.

— "Do you need help?" he asked softly.

Angel hesitated. His gaze drifted across the wet tiles, the stream of water, himself.

— "No."

— "Okay. Take your time," Lindsey repeated, his hand on the doorknob before pausing.

— "Did you get burned?" he added. "I’ve got some ointment."

— "I’m fine."

— "All right. If you need anything, just call me."

Angel simply nodded, and Lindsey closed the door, once again leaving a small gap, just in case.

---

Angel emerged from the bathroom roughly ten minutes later, wearing the pajamas Lindsey had laid out. Without a word, he sat on the bed next to him.

— "I’m tired," he said simply.

— "Of course. That’s normal," Lindsey murmured softly.

He stood and closed the curtains, plunging the room into semi-darkness. When he turned back, he saw that Angel had already laid down. He hesitated. He was tired too: he’d spent the whole night waiting in the cemetery.

Maybe they should have gotten two separate rooms. Or at least one with two beds. They hadn’t thought of that. Finally, he got changed, then lay down, careful to leave enough space for his husband, who had already closed his eyes.

It only took a few minutes for Angel to fall asleep.

Lindsey watched him for a moment.

Angel was close. Almost against him. They had kissed. And he hadn’t taken off his ring.

Lindsey closed his eyes too, a faint smile on his lips.

It was more than he’d dared hope for.