Chapter Text
Angel opened his eyes to see the brightest morning sun coming over the mountains. It was cold, but no longer snowing. A cigarette, freshly lit, was in his mouth. The wounds that had plagued him before were no longer.
The sunrise. He stood there for a second, taking it in, before he remembered. The party! He slammed the door open, then bent over, wincing in sudden pain.
"Hi! Hello! Are you alright? Do you need us to call an ambulance?" someone said, through a mouthful of fancy cheese.
"Oliver!" he cried out, his pain forgotten as he ran toward the detective by the snack table, enveloping him in a hug. "You're okay- you're alright- you're-"
"I'm so sorry- do I know you?"
"Right. That's right. I." Angel suddenly felt rather unwell, sick to his stomach and a strange feeling rippling across his skin. "Do you mind... coming outside with me?"
Beebo furrowed his brow. "Are you trying to assassinate me?"
"No!" He grabbed for Beebo's hand, barely hearing his confused protesting at being yanked away from the snack table. "Sorry- I-"
The nausea subsided a bit as they went back outside, Angel shutting the door gently this time.
"My wrist," Beebo complained, and Angel let go, the memory of Eugene Coli pulling him away flashing in his memory.
"Sorry."
"Do you need me for a case?" Beebo asked. "I'm afraid I'm off-duty right now, but if you like, I could give you a business card." He started rifling about in his pockets.
"No need, thank you. I know who you are." I just hope there's some way to make you know who I am! He rifled through his own pockets. Vivi's photobook was nowhere to be seen, but something else was-- a small photo he had thought died with Beebo in the attic. He didn't stop to question why or how it had come with him.
"Oh, have we met and I forgot? I'm so sorry, I'm usually-" Angel shoved the photo into his hands. Beebo stared at it silently for a moment, then wrapped his arms around his neck in a hug. "Angel! How did you do it? The clock was destroyed. The time loop should have broken-"
Angel frantically thought of something to say. He wasn't even entirely sure how he did it. "I-" He was interrupted with pins and needles running up his arms, his legs, his back. He squeezed his eyes shut. "They're crawling on me! Everywhere- they're crawling!"
"Hey! Sit down! Everything's going to be okay-" Beebo forced him to sit in the snow. The cold brought him back to reality somewhat, but his skin writhed like thrashing bugs, until-
"Party's over. Everyone out," Marigold said, slamming the door open. A dull pain echoed through his abdomen. "We need to call the police."
"Why?" Nina said, close on her heels. The kids trailed out shortly after, along with Vivi. The itching lessened as everyone filtered out, and Angel stood back up.
"What did you do?" Beebo asked, a growing look of dread in his eyes.
"He's dead?" Nina said. "But why? I need to see!"
"It's a crime scene. We need to let the professionals work."
"Angel. What did you do? The clock was destroyed- was it not the heart?" Angel couldn't stand the fear and dread in Oliver's eyes as the realization dawned on them both. This was supposed to fix that! He was supposed to be safe now!
"I became the house's new purpose," he said.
"Why?!"
"So you would live." Beebo wasn't looking him in the eyes, but in a different way than usual. This was intentional.
"I made my choice- you-"
"I made mine. I had to. I couldn't let you die. Not again. Not forever. If that means I've become part of the house? That's okay."
"But-"
"I couldn't, Oliver," he said, more firmly. "Not after all we've been through. It wasn't fair for me to make it out and you not to. It hurt too much." There was a pause. "You would have done the same thing."
"In a heartbeat." He stepped forward, grabbing Angel by the hand. "That doesn't mean I'm not upset with you, but- what's done is done. What do we do now?"
"I don't know. We're going to have to keep this house empty. There's no way I could handle have a museum's worth of people in it every day." He looked over to Marigold. "I'll give you your company back for this house."
"What?"
"Surely, it can't become a museum with a body inside it? Besides, this house is old. It's probably dangerous."
"Well, once the crime scene is cleared up... we could rebuild maybe."
He winced. "I'll give you my company as well."
"What?"
"This house should be preserved. And besides, you're better off as a businesswoman anyway."
"You'd give up both companies for this house?"
Angel smiled. "You could call me an eccentric."
"For both companies? Deal."
"Thank you. You could never know how much this means to me."
He turned back to Beebo with a smile. "Well? Now that I'm unemployed, what should we do now? Cross the Andes? Go on a grand adventure?"
"I think..." Oliver said wearily, "we should go home. Feed Mozilla Firefox. Take a nap. Have some snacks."
"Those sound good as well." The sun was rising over the mountains, and trucks were slowly making their way toward the house. There was paperwork yet to be done, but the timeloop was over.