Chapter Text
There was something in his house.
Angel sat, curled up under a table in the kitchen, clutching a knife and holding Mozilla. He didn't know what it was or how it'd gotten here- only that as he went to head to the kitchen, he'd seen some large creature in their bedroom with long claws and reflective, hollow eyes crouched low to the floor and bolted.
Beebo wasn't supposed to be home yet, so as soon as he heard the door open he'd start screaming. That should give the both of them enough time to prepare to maybe somehow do something about whatever that thing was.
After what seemed like hours of straining his ear for the softest noise and squinting from the dark kitchen into the shadow-blanketed hallway, Mozilla started to wiggle around, then squirm, then finally sunk his claws into Angel's arm, forcing him to drop the orange bundle of fur to avoid crying out. Little bastard.
His heart dropped as he saw the cat slink towards the kitchen doorway, low to the ground.
Angel scrambled after, aiming to gently snatch her by the back legs and drag her back to the table, but seeming to sense this, she picked up her pace right as he reached and slipped through his fingers, creeping into the hallway.
Damnit.
He peered around the corner and watched as he inched towards the bedroom, ears pricked and whiskers twitching. His head bobbed up and down as he sniffed the air. Surely he'd smell an intruder and come running back! Surely he wouldn't have to confront that thing to save Beebo's darling, infinitely stupid cat!
But as if to spite his wishes, Mozilla poked his head around the corner to the bedroom. Angel scrambled to his feet and dashed down the hall, half expecting long claws to snatch the cat into the inky depths of the bedroom and to hear a loud crunch, but as he skidded to a stop to see Mozilla halfway across the bedroom already, nothing like that happened.
Instead, Mozilla rubbed up against the faint shape of the thing he could see, pressing her big dumb forehead against it.
No, this is exactly what he didn't want to happen-
He smacked the light and pointed his knife at it, only to see-
Familiar scruffy brown hair. Its (?) pupils immediately narrowed to slits and it flinched away from the bright overhead lights.
It- no, no, he- had a clawed hand firmly planted in Mozilla's butt fur and was seemingly giving her scratches before the lights had been turned on. He was sitting against their bed with his knees to his chest.
"Oliver?" Angel softly whispered, not quite sure if what he was seeing was real.
He slowly opened his eyes, nodding slightly in response.
"Wh- why didn't you say anything?" He nearly dropped the knife and ran over, but hesitated. Oliver would probably be startled by that.
Mozilla, meanwhile, had crawled into Beebo's lap and was giving Angel a stink eye, seemingly infuriated at how he'd kept him away from his owner-slash-butler-slash-designated butt scratcher.
"Dunno. I didn't want you scared, an-and I don't know what's going on-" Oliver's voice was scratchy and raw like he'd been sick and he sounded near tears.
Angel set the knife down gently on the dresser and walked over. He plopped down next to Beebo and held out a hand.
"Hey, just tell me what's been going on."
There was a long moment of silence before he slowly, hesitantly, reached up a clawed hand and gently held Angel's.
"Uhm- since the house I've been more sick and tired and hungry," Beebo started, slowly.
"Right, we thought you got sick." Angel nodded.
"And as I was coming home today, I just felt all of that really badly, and my whole body hurt. I tried to hurry home but everything hurt so bad and I was so hungry that I couldn't remember where the key was, so I uh... went through the window."
Angel was going to say something incredulous about how Beebo's first thought was to go through the window, but as Oliver spoke, Angel noticed something- his teeth seemed sharper.
"Hold on, open your mouth really quick."
Beebo obliged, visibly confused, and Angel gently grabbed his chin and gently tilted Oliver's head towards him.
Surely enough, his front canines were longer, sharper, and a lot flatter- like small spades.
Curiously, Angel gently pressed his thumb against the point of the lower canine, but Beebo jumped and tried to jerk his head away, making Angel's finger slip and scrape against the sharp edge, drawing blood.
Beebo immediately recoiled, covering his nose.
"Go- I can't- move-" Beebo mumbled, attempting to push Angel away with his free hand.
He had this sudden sinking feeling in his stomach.
Angel, despite the fact that all he wanted to do was cling to Beebo and comfort him, obliged, scooting several feet away and squeezing his thumb to try and stop the bleeding quickly.
Beebo kept his hand over his nose and mouth, visibly grimacing.
"Sorry, I just smelled and tasted it and thought- I didn't know if..." Oliver trailed off, a guilty expression washing over his face. It hurt to see.
In Angel's mind, the pieces were coming together, and he felt crushed. Back at the house, they'd found out that Eugene Coli was a vampire. Beebo had been killed once by... well. By having the artery in his neck punctured.
They'd both, presumably, quietly assumed that since Oliver had been reset, that it wouldn't linger. That all of that would have just been some.. terrible, scary coincidence, and that they wouldn't have to deal with anything other than the lasting trauma.
"Do you think," he started quietly, "the whole.. vampire-thing was still a problem for you and would have been reset by the house if you became one, but since you left..." and then trailed off, knowing Oliver would fill in the blanks by himself.
Beebo's eyes went wide and nearly immediately filled up with tears. But no matter how badly Angel wanted to lunge in and wrap him in a hug, Oliver had told him to stay a few feet away.
And no matter how much not being able to be comforted would hurt Beebo, snapping and ending up with his significant other bleeding out on the floor would hurt Beebo more.
"I'll be back. We'll figure this out together then, okay?" Angel said softly, picking himself up off the floor.
He lingered in the doorway, staring into Oliver's wide, tear-filled, silent eyes.
Angel walked to go bandage the cut on his thumb, heart breaking a little at having to turn away.
Why couldn't the house have taken a little less?