Chapter Text
In hell, Angel had been bothered by the total inability to keep track of the passage of time. Now that he’s back on earth, he finds himself missing it. The time that you woke up in hell was just the time when you woke up. There was nothing to be upset about other than the general misfortune of being awake.
On earth, he wakes up and the first thing he does is roll over to read the tiny clock sitting by the head of his futon. It takes a moment of squinting for his bleariness to clear away enough for him to read that it is 9:47. With that knowledge, he is not only upset that he is awake, but upset that he is awake before noon. With a noise of disgust, Angel rolls over, intent on changing that.
An unholy combination of crashing and screeching from outside the window tells him that it won’t be easy. Angel perseveres regardless, burying his face into the futon and pulling a pillow over his head. It does next to nothing to quell the racket. By the time five minutes have passed, he’s wide awake and it’s getting hard to breathe. With a reluctant groan, he flings the pillow off, rolls over, and stares blankly up at the ceiling.
After about a minute of this, during which he is assaulted by a particularly loud screech that could have only come from Power, he rolls his head to the side to look at the futon on the other side of the room. It is perfectly made and utterly untouched. Power had insisted on Aki sleeping in the same room as her, Denji, and Nayuta that night, which meant that there had been nothing to mess up the bed that he anal-retentively insists on making every morning.
It’s a good thing, probably. Aki sleeping with his idiot siblings means that his dog won’t try to follow him into the bedroom. The last thing that Angel needs is to accidentally siphon its lifespan because the dumb animal tried to snuggle up to him in its sleep.
That’s a problem that should be a lot more avoidable than it is. It’s ridiculous that they have five people, seven dogs, and a cat living in a two bedroom house, especially when one of them has abilities that make it safest for him to have his own bedroom.
Not that it matters right now. The chaos outside seems to be getting worse. He can hear Aki shouting. A few seconds later, one of the dogs starts barking, then another, then another. With a reluctant groan, Angel sits up and begins the arduous process of hauling himself out of bed.
As much as the early mornings suck, earth is still better than hell in most ways. He likes sleeping on his futon more than the bed that he had constructed out of trash, even if he doesn’t wake up with Aki next to him every morning anymore. Angel isn’t someone who gets bored often or easily, but it’s nice to have something to do other than rummage through shrapnel or wander aimlessly when the feeling creeps up on him and Aki isn’t available to talk to. He missed eating. In a weird way, he missed the sensation of getting hungry, the little reminder that you’re on earth and alive.
Hell did have one major benefit other than the absence of the AM hours, and that was that he didn’t have to watch his every move. He could handle making sure that he didn’t touch Aki easily enough. It’s more than a matter of habit; Angel is always aware of where Aki is, and positioning himself accordingly is second nature. But now he lives in a two-bedroom house with five people, seven dogs, and a cat, none of which he particularly wants to hurt. The experience is akin to walking on a tightrope in a way that Public Safety never was. There, everyone other than Aki had feared him, hated him, known to give him his space for the sake of their own health and well-being. But the people Aki’s dropped him with are morons. Reckless, annoying, kind-hearted morons. Angel’s going to siphon one of their lifespans on accident one day, and it will be their own fault, but he will still be left feeling guilty.
But today will not be that day. Angel could have guessed that everyone is outside, but it’s still a relief to walk out into a mostly-empty apartment. He passes one of the dogs on his way toward the doorway and pauses to wave sluggishly at the thing. This one is Tiramisu, he thinks. One of the calmer ones. He glances his way, aware, but not interested enough to approach. It’s the thing that makes him probably the most tolerable member of the canine horde that plagues the house. He’s relatable, and his disinterest makes it easier for Angel to combat the occasional urge to pet him - a feather-light touch that wouldn’t stand a chance of making contact with skin - and remind himself that he wouldn’t dare risk it.
Angel walks past the dog just like he does every day.
A haphazard pile of tennis shoes sits in the genkan in front of the back door, a testament to just how thoroughly Aki has lost control of the household today. One of those pairs of shoes is his. Angel considers them for no more than about five seconds before opting to slip on a pair of fuzzy slippers instead. He’s still in his pajamas, why would he bother making an effort with the rest of his outfit? It’s better to walk outside looking typically lazy than to go out looking weird.
Not that anyone would care. Angel’s learned very quickly that Aki is the only one in this house who actually gives a shit about appearances. However, Angel does care about functionality. He pauses to look himself over, searching for any gaps in his clothing where a paw might meet flesh if one of the dogs jumps on him. There’s nothing to be done about the space between his slippers and the edge of his pants, but after a moment of consideration, he tucks the hem of his shirt into his waistband. With that, he’s close enough to be ready to be willing to open the door.
Angel steps outside and is greeted by chaos.
The dogs are the first thing that catches his attention. Most of them are lazing about near the back of the yard, much like Angel wishes that he could be. It’s the four exceptions that are causing problems. Three of them yap at each other as they run around in crazed circles. The fourth, a vaguely familiar menace who Angel is pretty sure is named Custard, stands at the base of the porch, barking up at the roof for some godforsaken reason. Together, they create enough noise that Angel would be surprised if they didn’t get a complaint from a neighbor today.
None of them are loud enough to drown out the sounds of the Hayakawas arguing.
Angel doesn’t even try to piece together what they’re actually saying. He stares blankly at where they’re clustered together on the porch, occasionally gesturing up at the roof in between their apparent attempts to tear each other new assholes. None of them give any indication of having noticed Angel’s presence despite him standing only a few feet away. After a little while, he realizes that they aren’t going to unless he makes some sort of effort. That’s when he turns his attention to the one individual who’s already looking his way.
Aki is under the impression that Angel likes the Control Devil. He doesn’t. Liking her is impossible when he can’t look at her without feeling a shiver run up his spine or hearing an alluring voice in the back of his mind. He knows that it’s wrong of him, that a good person would have put such things behind them, knowing that Nayuta as she exists now cannot be blamed for Makima’s atrocities.
But Angel’s never claimed to be a good person. He’s just a person who happens to love Aki. That love is what pushes him to make the effort to tolerate the girl. He would be more than willing to be unfair to her if not for one glaring problem. The logic that would have justified his hatred of Nayuta is the same logic that would justify Aki’s hatred of himself. So when the child who was once the woman who destroyed his life locks eyes with him, Angel does the same thing that he does every day. He takes a deep breath, remembers Aki, and tries to be a better person than he is.
“What’s going on?” Angel asks, walking over to the Control Devil.
Nayuta does not make any move to get out of the oversized deck chair she’s sprawled out in. She does scoot over in an unspoken offer for Angel to sit down next to her. The gesture almost makes him hope that he’ll be able to like her for real one day. He turns her down with a small shake of his head.
“Nyako got on the roof,” Nayuta says, pointing back at the house.
“The cat?” Angel asks, craning his neck to look. It takes a moment, but he manages to spot a black and white fluff ball sprawled out near the edge of the roof.
“Yeah. They’re arguing about how to get her down.”
“Why would they need to argue about that?” Angel asks, turning back to the Control Devil.
She shrugs. “Because they’re stupid.”
Angel considers this logic for a moment, then accepts it with a shrug.
He turns around to watch the morons for another few seconds. Then he sighs, metaphorically rolls his sleeves up, and walks over to him. Aki notices him when he comes to stand by his side. Surprise flickers across his features. Before he can say anything, Denji yanks his attention back over to him by insisting, “I’m telling ya, if we just tape the ladder one of the chairs-”
“You are not doing that,” Aki snaps.
“It’s not gonna be able to reach otherwise!”
“That’s your own fault for buying a ladder that isn’t tall enough to reach the roof!”
“Who the hell buys ladders? I just found that thing on the curb.”
“Do you want me to fly up and get the cat for you?” Angel asks with a sigh. He wasn’t planning on flying today, but if it will stop this nonsense before it could get any more irritating, he supposes it might be worth the effort.
Aki’s eyes light up, scopes spinning excitedly for a second before zeroing in on him, and Angel thinks that it would definitely be worth it.
“Oh, shit, I keep forgetting that you have wings!” Denji crows. “That’d be-”
“Absolutely not!” Power shouts. The Blood Devil, who had previously been staring up at the roof with undisguised anxiety, turns around to point a condemning finger at Angel. “I won’t have him touching Nyako with his deathly hands.”
“The cat is covered in fur,” Angel points out. “I need to touch skin to drain lifespans. I can get it off the roof without hurting it.”
Power shakes her head. “No! That is a risk that I refuse to take.” She plants her hands on her hips and positions herself in front of Denji. “I tire of your arguing. We’re going to do this my way. Denji, get on Topknot’s back!”
Angel blinks. He shoots a bemused look at Aki, who is doing his best to glare at Power intimidatingly. It’s a pretty convincing act, but it’s still just an act. Angel can tell from the set of his mouth and the way he keeps glancing up at Nyako that he’s almost resigned himself to whatever’s about to happen. However, he still has enough spark left in him to bark, “No. Denji, you stay right where you are.”
Denji makes an unconvinced sound. “I dunno… I mean, you shot down all our other ideas, so this has gotta be our best one.”
Power makes a noise like she’s already won.
Aki shoots her a brief glare, his scopes narrowing into sharp pinpricks, before they widen again as he turns back to Denji. “It’s a stupid idea,” he insists.
“Yeah, but it’ll work,” Denji retorts. “‘Sides, it’s not like any of us can get hurt in any way that matters, so let’s just get it over with.”
Power pumps a fist in the air. “Exactly! Your cowardice is doing nothing more than delaying Nyako’s rescue!”
Aki looks at Angel like he expects to save him or something.
He should have thought about that before he let his gaggle of hooligans wake him up before noon.
Angel shrugs mercilessly.
Aki grimaces.
“The Angel agrees!” Power hollers. “Denji! Get on Aki’s shoulders before I smite you!”
Denji steps toward Aki, when takes a step back. Denji narrows his eyes with a frown. “You’d better not make me run you down,” he warns.
“I won’t,” Aki sighs. “Just…” He shoots one last disgruntled glance at Angel before walking over to stand beneath the roof’s overhang. “It’ll be easier if we’re closer to the roof.”
Denji nods. “Good thinking. Alright, stay still.”
Angel takes a few steps back and watches as Denji walks over to Aki. He looks him up and down for a few seconds before grabbing his shoulders and hauling himself onto his back. Aki curses as he attempts to stay upright. After a few seconds where it looks like he might fall over, he grabs Denji’s legs and gives him a boost up onto his shoulders.
“Watch your step,” Aki warms.
“Why?” Denji snickers. “Afraid I’ll step on your topknot?”
“I’ll fucking kill you if you get dirt in my hair.”
“You were sleeping on a piss mattress a few weeks ago, you’ve had way worse things than dirt in your hair.”
Denji slowly stands up on top of Aki’s shoulders. He wobbles precariously for a moment before Aki grabs his feet. Once he’s more or less stable, he leans forward to grab the edge of the roof. He barely manages to reach it.
“Alright, Powy, your turn,” Denji calls.
Angel frowns, wondering if this is going where he thinks it’s going and if it was really the best plan that the three of them could come up with.
Power leaps at Aki’s back, almost sending all three of them tumbling to the ground. Aki and Denji’s resulting shouts are met with a dismissive scoff. “‘Tis your fault for being so unstable!”
Angel shuffles over while Power crawls onto Denji’s shoulders. Aki is only holding onto one of Denji’s feet now, the other arm braced against the wall in an attempt to keep himself upright under the weight of two morons. The strain on his face is almost enough to make Angel laugh.
“You could have avoided this if you weren’t so freakishly tall,” he points out.
Aki shoots Angel an annoyed look. “I-”
Power jumps from Denji’s shoulder to the roof. Aki gasps and sways at the sudden weight off his back. Denji sits down on his shoulders with a yelp, grabbing a fistful of Aki’s topknot to steady himself.
“Watch it!” Aki snaps, glaring up at the delinquent.
“Don’t buck me off, then!”
“You said-”
“Yeah, but I don’t want a broken arm!”
“You deserve one at this rate.”
“Jackass.”
“Stand back up, she’ll be coming back up soon.”
Aki pulls back from the wall in order to grab Denji’s feet once again. The idiot stands up with a low grumble of complaint. As they reposition themselves, Aki finally turns his attention back to Angel.
“I’m not that tall,” he says. “You’re just abnormally short.”
Angel frowns thoughtfully. “Yeah… That sounds about right coming from someone tall enough to be used as a ladder.”
“I-”
“Our actual ladder’s only a few inches taller than him!” Denji shouts down.
Aki glares up at him. “You’re part of this too.”
“Yeah, but I’m not the base.”
“I will drop you.”
“Move and I slaughter you both!” Power shouts from where she’s standing at the edge of the roof, cat safe in her arms.
Angel steps back to watch from a safe distance as Power climbs back down the ladder of stupidity. She manages to get down to Aki’s shoulders before Nyako scrambles out of her arms. Angel winces in sympathy when the cat jumps down onto his arm, claws scrambling for purchase. Aki stiffens, but manages to stay still as she jumps onto the porch and darts off into the house. Power follows suit without so much as a word to either of her fellow morons.
“You alright?” Denji asks, peering down at Aki.
“Get off me,” Aki grumbles.
“Alright, alright, hold your horses.” Denji lets out an exaggerated groan as he climbs down from Aki. Angel is offered a toothy grin before he disappears inside the house.
That leaves Aki alone with the dogs, rubbing his arm and staring distantly up at the roof.
Well, alone with the dogs and Angel. Where Aki is concerned, Angel isn’t sure if being alone with him is any different from being alone completely by this point. He hopes that it is. He hopes that it’s better.
At the very least, he hopes that he isn’t making him any worse.
“Aki?” Angel calls, taking a step forward.
Aki lowers his arm to his side as he turns around to look at him.
“Are you okay?” Angel asks.
“Oh. Yeah.” Aki starts to hold his arm up, only to let it drop back to the side. “She got the arm I lost. It’s half metal anyway, so…”
Angel offers him a strained half-smile. “At least something good came out of it.”
“Yeah.”
“Have you eaten yet?” Aki abruptly asks after a few seconds of silence.
Angel wrinkles his nose. “Aki, I don’t even want to be awake right now. Why would I have eaten?”
Aki shakes his head. “Come on, I’ll make breakfast.” He heads inside without waiting for Angel to respond. It’s behavior that’s familiar enough and old enough to make something warm and bittersweet swell up in Angel’s face. If it had come earlier, sooner, he might have been able to call that feeling hope. As it is, there’s no escaping the weighty memory that stops it from reaching that point.
That bittersweet feeling is better than desolation though. Maybe it even will be hope someday.
Angel isn’t foolish enough to think that hope is enough to pull Aki out of the hole he’s dug for himself, but he does think that they could both use a little bit of it. In Aki’s case, he could use the hope that he’s still himself and that he has a future. In Angel’s, he wants to be able to feel hopeful because of Aki again, to see him coming back to himself and knows that he didn’t leave an essential piece of himself in the depths of hell or back on that beach.
The problem is that they’ll need something close to a miracle before they can hope for any of these things. And right now, there aren’t any miracles in sight.
Aki’s still himself, but that only means so much when he barely believes it. He has a future, but only until this lifetime comes to an end, after which point he’ll need to face the reality of all that he’s thrown away.
Angel still has Aki. He knows that his world is going to revolve around him until the day he dies. He also knows that he cannot afford to let his guard down and trust in him the way he used to as long as he is in the state he’s in.
Angel doesn’t know when any of that is going to change. He doesn’t know if it can change. Thus, he does not get to hope just yet.
What he does get is this. Aki walking into the kitchen, attempting to reclaim his position of authority, if only for a little while, and Angel trailing after him with a dramatic groan, allowing them to fall into these old patterns even though he already knows that nothing will ever be the same again. If things are to get better, they can’t be the same. But right now, it doesn’t hurt to pretend.
“Why don’t you let me go back to sleep?” Angel asks, slumping heavily against the wall. His wings get pinned uncomfortably in the process. With a frown, he leans forward, stretches them out, and leans back into a more comfortable position.
“I’m not keeping you awake,” Aki counters, pawing through the cupboards. He completely misses the pouty glower Angel sends his way. He can’t miss the racket that Denji, Power, Nayuta, and at least one of the dogs are making in the other room, but he looks like he’s doing a good job of tuning it out.
“I can’t sleep with all this noise,” Angel moans.
“You shouldn’t be sleeping until noon anyway.”
“Why not?”
Aki pauses. Angel’s heart falters at the sight. He finds himself wondering if he said something wrong. That’s another reason why it’s too soon to hope for anything significant. No matter how good of a job he does at acting like everything’s normal, there are still too many wrong things to say around Aki, and it’s all too easy to walk into one without realizing it.
Angel’s certain he said something wrong. Aki starts moving again as if he didn’t. “It’s not healthy for you,” he says.
“Is it less healthy than eating take-out or American breakfasts for every meal?”
Aki shoots Angel a chiding look. He isn’t quite able to hide the amusement lurking beneath it. “I told you that I’m teaching Denji to branch out. He’s already bought more cookbooks.”
Angel hums, unconvinced. “He’s just going to make you go back to cooking for him all the time.”
Something shifts in Aki’s expression. He looks away before Angel can tell if it’s good or bad. “No. He’s become too responsible for that.”
Aki finishes collecting his ingredients and starts pulling pans out. Angel doesn’t have a clue what he’s making from the stuff laid out on the counter. However, Aki looks like he knows what he’s doing.
Angel watches placidly until Aki turns around to say, “You should get dressed.”
“Why?” Angel asks. “It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”
“It’s good to establish healthy habits.”
Angel opens his mouth, but closes it before he can argue. If Aki wants to push him to establish healthy human-type habits even though he doesn’t have any need for them, that’s fine. He’ll go along with it as long as it means that Aki isn’t at risk of ending up like him anymore.
Angel reluctantly shuffles his way out of the kitchen. A glimpse out of the back door, still left wide open, reveals that most of the dogs are still outside. The two exceptions are wrestling with Nayuta and Power in the living room, which explains why Aki isn’t actively being hounded. Of course, Denji doesn’t look particularly invested in the television show he’s watching, so that’s probably going to change sometime soon.
Whatever. That’s the sort of stuff that it’s better that Angel stay away from, especially since Aki’s at least a little closer to acting like himself again. He leaves the others be and heads back into his room.
For a normal person, getting dressed would only take a couple of minutes, tops. Angel opts to flop onto his bed and stare blankly at the ceiling for a while first. He listens to the noise of the household, making vague guesses at what everyone’s doing, but not caring enough to head out and confirm. He doesn’t actually start putting his clothes on until he hears the creaking of chairs and barking of dogs that indicate that breakfast is probably done.
Denji is in the middle of herding the dogs outside when Angel enters the kitchen. He shouts something at him, but Angel can’t make a word out above all the barking. Denji is rewarded with a blank stare before Angel sits down at the kitchen table with a groan.
Aki frowns at him. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Angel says, and it’s as true as it’s ever been.
Breakfast passes more or less the way it always does. Denji, Power, and Nayuta engage in loud, shouting conversation. Aki tries to act like a mature adult who’s somehow above it all when he’s no better than them in reality. They’re happy, and Angel isn’t unhappy, but he can’t think of anything better to do with himself than fade into the background.
Not that there’s anything wrong with that. It’s still better than what his life was like back in Public Safety, so he’s perfectly content to stay like this.
He just doesn’t see much of a reason to linger. Aki doesn’t look like he’s anywhere close to a breakdown and he knows that he can trust Denji to fetch him if that suddenly changes. Once he’s finished with his meal, he excuses himself from the table, fetches a bottle of water, randomly grabs one of the books sitting at the foot of Aki’s futon, and heads up to the roof.
The rooftop is one of the only places where he can get some honest to god space in this household. He doesn’t even need to fly to get up there; there’s a trap door and retractable staircase leading up to it near the back of the hallway. As he climbs, he briefly wonders why the hell none of the Hayakawas thought to use it during their cat emergency, only to decide that it’s really none of his business either way.
It doesn’t take long for Angel to get comfortable on the roof. There are no piles of shrapnel to contend with and the clear blue sky overhead is worlds better than the cold concrete of the roof of his old cell in the devil housing unit. He sets his water bottle down, stretches his wings out until the tips of his feathers quiver, lays down on his back, and cracks his stolen book open.
Angel’s first reaction upon examining the contents of the book is dismay. It’s some rambling, long-winded story about a man named Ishmael joining a whaling ship. He’s seriously tempted to discard it for a moment, but the thought of having to get up to fetch a new book makes him give up on that idea. With a wordless grumble that does a close enough job of cursing Aki’s taste in literature, he sets to work reading the rambling nonsense.
The book gets better. He wouldn’t call it good by any means, but there’s something almost mesmerizing about the non-stop infodumping. Angel finds himself pulled in faster than he would have expected. Time passes this way, with him listening to birdsong and getting lost in Ishmael’s weirdly homoerotic adventures in whaling.
He’s pulled out of the stupor by the sound of the trap door opening. He turns his head to find Aki making his way up. Before he can smile, he hears the clicking of canine claws.
“Don’t let her up here,” Angel whines, tilting his head back as he peers at the absolute disaster of a man before him.
Aki just shoots him a faint smile as he climbs out onto the roof. A second later, Taiyaki pops her furry little head up. Angel jerks to his feet as the dog clambers up onto the roof.
“It’s fine,” Aki assures him. “She knows better than to touch you by now.”
Angel edges a few steps away. “Maybe the others know better than to touch me by now, but that dog wouldn’t obey a command if her life depended on it.” Frankly, he isn’t confident in the obedience of the other dogs either, but they’re certainly better than Taiyaki.
Aki has the gall to look mildly offended. “I’ve been training her.”
“That thing is untrainable.”
“We’re getting there.”
“Keep telling yourself that.”
Aki’s exasperated huff contains enough fondness to send a curl of warmth around the cold, dead thing that Angel calls a heart. “Would you prefer it if I didn’t even try? I could just leave Denji and Power to take care of her.”
Angel snorts. “Please. They’re never going to let you give that dog back.”
“Then you can tolerate her being here.”
“I don’t think you want to give the dog back.”
Aki pretends that he didn’t hear him.
Taiyaki may be a rambunctious brat of an animal, but even she can’t be full of piss and vinegar. She settles down next to the trap door, crossing one paw over the other and laying her head down on top of them. Angel eyes her for a moment before sitting back down a relatively safe distance away.
He left the book where he was sitting before. Aki bends down to pick it up, a thoughtful look on his face. At first, Angel wonders if he’s going to ask him about it. When that doesn’t happen, he takes a gamble and asks, “Relate to anything in that book?”
Aki’s lips twitch. It doesn’t look as happy as he wants it to be. “Maybe,” he says. He starts to walk closer to Angel, only for him to shoot Aki a warning look and a meaningful glance at the dog. With a sigh, he sits down a safe distance away.
The seconds tick by.
Angel waits for Aki to bring the book back up.
He doesn’t.
“This house is too small,” Angel murmurs for lack of anything else to say.
Aki makes a noise of agreement. “I’ll ask Kishibe if it would be safe for us to move.”
“You mean we’re going to stay in this tiny place if some old human tells us to?”
“That old human could send us both to hell in a minute.”
Angel isn’t so sure that’s true. Not for both of them, at least. However, he’s certain that it wouldn’t be a good idea to say as much. What he does say is, “Do you think he’ll say no?”
“No.” Aki pauses then, peering thoughtfully at Angel. “If we get somewhere with more room, will you start spending more time with everyone?”
Angel frowns. “If the house is less chaotic, will you start going out in public again?”
Aki looks away. “I don’t see what that has to do with this,” he mutters.
“I don’t see what me not spending quality time with your idiots has to do with us moving.”
“It would be good for you to socialize more.”
Angel’s feathers stand on end. He beats his wings once to temper down the anxious tension suddenly coursing through them. “It would be good for you to actually start being part of the world again.”
Aki still isn’t looking at him. Instead, his gaze wanders over to Taiyaki. He stares blankly at her for a few seconds before reaching out to rub her head. “That’s different,” he murmurs.
“I don’t think so,” Angel says. “You don’t get to tell me to step out of my comfort zone when you still aren’t trying to be a functional person.
“I don’t know what you mean. I am functional.”
Angel squints. “Are you?”
Aki stands up with a sigh. “Dinner should be done in about three hours. I’ll come get you if you aren’t down by then.”
“Fine,” Angel mutters.
Aki departs without another word. It could be misconstrued as a careless gesture if not for the reminder, and every other little gesture of affection that he makes every day.
Angel isn’t an idiot. He knows that Aki cares about him, even if he isn’t part of the little family he’s built in the way that Denji and Power are. If he’s feeling really risky, he might even let himself believe that Aki might love him back.
But that care wasn’t enough to stop him from self-destructing once again, and Angel’s love is not enough for him to truly finish the process of gluing himself back together. They’re stagnating and he doesn’t know if there’s a thing in the world that he can do to stop it.
At the very least, Angel can join Aki in going through the motions. Today, that means packing up his stuff and going back into the house before Aki has to climb back onto the roof to fetch him.
The house is in a state of semi-subdued chaos when Angel returns. Most of the dogs are curled up in a sleepy pile in the living room. Denji, Power, and Nayuta are engaged in an argument over what to watch, but they aren’t arguing at the top of their lungs, so it could be worse. Frankly, the fact that Angel acknowledges that it could be worse is an exhausting testament to how much his patience has improved since moving into this nest of morons.
A glance in the kitchen reveals that Aki hasn’t finished cooking yet. He looks up before he can leave, and Angel catches a hint of gratitude in his expression when he spots him. It’s met with a flat look that warns him not to expect this sort of proactive behavior on a regular basis.
Aki frowns.
Angel smiles faintly, then looks away before Aki has a chance to see that smile. A second later, he walks away outright, taking his place sitting on the arm of the couch as he waits to see who wins the battle for the remote control.
Maybe he gives Aki’s idiots too much shit. They’re pains, sure, but they’re generally pretty good about letting Angel blend into the furniture. They barely even glance his way between insulting each other’s tastes in entertainment. When Denji tries to drag him into the debate, he scowls when Angel asserts that he couldn’t care less, but he doesn’t push the subject any further.
They suck, but they could be worse. Besides, Aki needs them, which means that Angel needs them.
The announcement that dinner is done before the children have decided that they want to watch, which means that Aki is going to impose his dictatorship and either leave the television off or turn on something that none of them will like for the rest of the night. Angel will either go back to his room and keep reading or make a cursory attempt to focus on what he’s turned on, if there’s anything. He supposes that he could attempt to influence his decision, but that would mean actually figuring out what he likes, which would put him in the horrible position of having a stake in those petty arguments.
Whatever. They’re all problems to deal with later anyway.
Dinner is uneventful. Angel sits next to Nayuta, across from Aki, simply because it minimizes the likelihood of something getting thrown at him. He pays enough attention to the conversation to input a comment every now and then, but not enough to truly participate. By the time he finishes, he’s had enough socialization for the day, but the others are still going strong. He takes that as a sign that there won’t be any television tonight after all, excusing himself, and slinks back to his room.
Angel doesn’t care if Aki sleeps with him or the rest of the gremlins. Really, he doesn’t. There might be some prickly emotions when he goes several nights sleeping in the other room, but Angel isn’t blind to the situation. He needs Denji and Power in a way that’s different from… whatever it is he has with Angel. They remind him that he’s himself in a way that Angel can never manage. Therefore, if Angel really cares about Aki, he can’t let himself get caught up in stupid, petty, ridiculous, human feelings like jealousy because of something as stupid as sleeping arrangements.
So he doesn’t let himself linger on the warmth that lights up in his chest when Aki starts getting ready for bed. Lingering on it would mean acknowledging it, and if he’s going to act stupid, he can at least try to pretend that it isn’t happening. He doesn’t look at Aki as he changes his pajamas, doesn’t let himself smile as he gets settled into the futon across from him, doesn’t say a word until the other devil acknowledges him first.
Once he’s more or less settled down, Aki turns to Angel and asks, “Did you really finish Moby Dick in one day?” He gestures to the book held in Angel’s hands as he sits down on the edge of his futon.
Angel looks down. There are still a few pages left, but he isn’t going to go to bed before he goes to bed, so he supposes that it’s close enough. “I guess,” he says with a shrug.
Aki makes a surprised noise. “I didn’t know you were that much of a reader.”
“There wasn’t much else to do in the devil containment cells.”
Aki’s lips part slightly. The scopes in his eyes spin, zeroing in on Angel, before widening again as he abruptly looks away. “Did you like it?” he asks.
Angel knows that he’s not talking about Public Safety’s devil containment cells, although that’s almost definitely what he’s thinking about. He briefly considers calling him out on it, but only for a second. It could be said that he’s being merciful by letting it go, but that isn’t accurate in this circumstance. Dropping the subject is the only thing that he can do if he wants to avoid being cruel.
Aki’s having enough difficulty adjusting to his new nature as a devil. The last thing that Angel needs to do is grind it in by reminding him of all the basic rights he probably took for granted as a human.
“It’s alright,” Angel says instead. “The protagonist was kind of annoying, but Captain Ahab reminded me of someone.”
It takes a second for Aki to get it. When he does, his expression shifts into a scowl. “I shouldn’t have left that out where you could find it,” he grumbles.
“I should show it to Denji,” Angel says.
Aki pulls his legs onto the bed with a snort. He pulls the fluffy white comforter over himself before saying, “If Denji reads Moby Dick, he’ll get so obnoxious that I’ll have no choice but to kill him.”
“And die in the process?”
“Shut up.”
Aki lays down. Angel peers at him for a moment before saying, “I hope you know I’m not turning the light off until I’m done reading.”
“That’s inconsiderate,” Aki grumbles.
“And waiting for me to turn the light off is lazy.”
Aki groans.
Angel isn’t quick enough to stop a tiny laugh from sneaking past his lips.
Aki’s eyes flicker open again. The second he feels those blue scopes on him, Angel is looking off to the side, at the haphazard collection of multi-colored pillows that he’s gathered to line the back of his futon. “I won’t take long,” he promises.
“Alright,” Aki sighs. “Goodnight, Angel.”
“Goodnight, Ahab.”
Aki throws a pillow at him.
Angel tucks it back in at his side when he gets off to turn the lights off.
*
Angel wakes up with an ache in his stomach and a cramp in his right leg.
It’s some unholy hour of the morning. He doesn’t care enough to look at the time; the fact that it’s still dark outside and Aki is still asleep tells him all that he needs to know. Unfortunately, the seizing of his calf also tells him that he isn’t going to be getting back to sleep any time soon.
Angel sits up and starts rubbing his leg. This is followed by him staring up at the ceiling for a few minutes, cursing his general existence, before climbing out of bed to accept his disgusting fate.
Angel would have thought that one of the few benefits of waking up at a time like this is that he’d be alone. Instead, he walks into the hallway to find a dull light emanating from the kitchen. The sight gives him pause for a moment, but the thought of going back to bed on an empty stomach turns out to be even worse than having to interact with someone before the sun’s risen. With a heavy sigh, he resigns himself to letting whatever’s about to happen happen and walks into the kitchen.
He’s greeted by the sight of Denji sitting on the counter with one hand stuffed inside a cereal box. The kid freezes up for a moment before giving a tiny shrug, pulling his hand out of the box, and dropping a fistful of cereal in his mouth. “‘Sup?” he asks as he chews.
Angel wrinkles his nose and walks over to the fridge without responding.
“I can cook something if you’re hungry,” Denji says as he opens it.
That makes Angel pause for a completely different reason. He peers at Denji past the open fridge door, turning the thought over in his head for a moment, before ultimately dismissing it. “I don’t trust your cooking this early in the morning,” he says. “It feels wrong that you’re even awake right now.”
“Kinda does, doesn’t it? But I had to get up early while…” Denji’s lips press into a tight, thin mockery of a smile. He shoves another mouthful of cereal past his lips before continuing, his words barely audible past the wall of sugar-encrusted flakes. “I got in the habit, ‘n it’s not as easy to break as you’d think. ‘Sides…” he swallows heavily. “‘S good not to drop everything on Aki.”
Angel hums. A part of him wants to ask what Denji saw to make him realize that, beyond the obvious incident. A bigger part of him doesn’t want to have to hear about it right now. He lets that side win out as he turns around to peer inside the refrigerator. It’s kept well-stocked, but they ran out of leftovers the night before, and most of what fills it now is stuff that would take too much effort to be considered edible by human stands. Because he isn’t human, the pack of raw steaks sitting on the bottom shelf calls to him. He’s stopped from grabbing one by the fact that Denji is sitting right there. While he doubts that Chainsaw will care if he starts gnawing on a slab of raw meat, there’s always the chance that he’ll tell Aki about the incident, and he will definitely care.
There are leafy greens that wouldn’t require cooking, but those are hardly worth putting in his mouth even when they’re nice and seasoned.
There’s ice cream in the freezer, but he’s pretty sure that they’re starting to run low, and if he eats his fill now, he won’t be able to have any later.
Colorful containers of yogurt sit on the top shelf. They aren’t particularly enticing, but they’re better than vegetables or a lecture from Aki. With a sigh, Angel grabs a strawberry flavored one and closes the fridge.
“How’ve you been?” Denji asks.
Angel sits down at the table and shoots him a look that’s meant to remind him that they don’t have to be talking.
Denji doesn’t give any indication that he notices.
“Why are you asking?” Angel sighs. He turns his yogurt over in his hands and scratches at the foil top, but doesn’t move to open it.
He forgot to grab a spoon. Faced with the prospect of walking back across the kitchen, he suddenly isn’t sure that he’s that hungry after all.
“I dunno, man.” There’s the crunch of cereal. Angel turns the yogurt over again and wonders if it would be worth it to wake for Aki to wake up and cook. He briefly considers asking Denji to make something after all, but dismisses the idea when he continues, “We haven’t talked in a while.”
Angel looks up at Denji. He regrets it the instant that he sees the look on his face - not quite serious, but not too far from it either. Closer than he wants to deal with this early in the morning. Angel sets his yogurt down, crosses his arms over the table, and lays his head down on them.
“Angel?” Denji prods.
“Do we have anything to talk about?” Angel asks.
“…Guess not,” Denji says.
They both know that’s not true. The real problem is that neither of them wants to talk about the thing that binds them together, because for all that things have been getting better, talking about it would inevitably mean acknowledging the ways that they haven’t. That means that they’re better off pretending that they have nothing to talk about.
Denji goes back to crunching on his cereal. Angel’s back starts to hurt after a few minutes. He opens and folds his wings a few times in a fruitless attempt to chase the ache away. Reluctantly, he sits back up and goes back to playing with his yogurt cup.
The silence is broken by Denji abruptly saying, “You know, one good thing about Aki being a devil now? He can’t make any stupid contracts anymore.”
Angel freezes. He feels his blood run cold, feels the wave of despair rise up within him, and isn’t quick enough to keep it from bleeding out onto his expression. He tries looking down at the table in a desperate attempt at damage control, but he immediately knows that it’s too little, too late.
“Oh, fuck,” Denji breathes. “What did he do?”
Angel closes his eyes. His wings twitch uncomfortably. He clenches his hands into fists, tries to push his feelings down, and forces himself to think instead of feel.
Aki doesn’t want Denji or Power to know what he did, but Denji isn’t the same irresponsible kid who watched everyone die. Furthermore, Aki is a fool if he thinks that he can hide his damnation from everyone forever. Angel has kept his secret for weeks, waiting for him to come to that realization himself, but it’s becoming increasingly obvious that that isn’t going to happen. The selfish bastard is going to let his family think that they get to keep him forever, only to find out that he’s sold his soul once they lose him for good.
Aki won’t even do anything to try to fix the mess he’s made. Nothing he says has any real hope of getting through to him, for Angel’s love has never been enough to get him to clean up the mess inside his head.
But Angel will never be the person he loves most, or the sort of person who can make the impossible happen. And what Aki needs now is impossible.
Feet hit the linoleum in the same instant that Angel’s eyes snap open. Denji is hovering a few feet away from the table, looking closer to afraid than he has ever seen him.
“Aki made a deal with the Hell Devil to get us out of hell,” Angel blurts out. “It sent us back to earth for this lifetime, and in exchange, it gets to drag Aki back to hell for every life after this one.”
There are no words for the grief that crosses Denji’s face. His eyes glow with life and energy and drain out into something dead and hollow within the span of a second. His mouth opens and closes, trying to form words, but only shaping nonsensical syllables. This continues as he sits down across from Angel with a dull thud. A horrible choking noise starts up in the back of his throat.
Finally, something within him snaps, be it denial, confusion, or something beyond labels, and he cries, “But I thought devils couldn’t make contracts with other devils!?”
“I don’t think it was technically a contract,” Angel says. “The Hell Devil accepted the deal because Aki can’t take it in a fight and it knows it. It doesn’t need a contract to make him uphold his half of the bargain.”
There’s a flash of something across Denji’s expression. Footsteps come padding into the kitchen before Angel can try to decipher it.
“Why the hell are you being so loud this early in the morning?” a groggy Aki hisses from the doorway, rubbing the side of his head with his metal-flecked hand.
Angel and Denji stare at him.
Aki slowly lowers his hand to the side. He takes a step back. “…What?”