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Summary
“I’m trying to protect you, amorcito,” Val says.
That can’t be right. Angel’s in this funny limbo space where nothing is tangible except his spindly fingers and the space between his eyes. Is he hallucinating? But no, that’s Val, ducking so low in his chair that he’s at Angel’s level on the floor, the opposite of looming. And he looks more expectant than angry. What’s he waiting on? What’s most likely? “Thank you Val.”
“Ask me how I’m protecting you.”
(Or, Angel is trying to cope in the aftermath of Vox’s reveal. Valentino also has some Vox-related issues he needs to work through. This mixes very well.)