(TW: Suicidal Ideation mentioned)
For the first time in a year the house felt alive. Their friends had demanded they all ring in the new year together, to celebrate and mourn, though that mostly remained unsaid.
Asher and Milo's Sweetheart had the volume high on their game at midnight to drown out the fireworks, but now it was almost one and everyone else had found somewhere to hunker down and sleep. Angel was sitting on the back porch, mug in hand for warmth, watching the stars and hearing the partying down the block.
They used to love a New Years' party. But it would never be the same after the Inversion and what they lost.
'Who' fits as well. David died doing what he did best - taking care of others. He took a hit so Asher would get out. Angel knew the guilt of that was in Asher and turned his stomach whenever it reared its head. They knew because tonight he barely ate a thing; only whatever his Babe could force onto his plate and though he enjoyed himself, his smile never reached its full glow.
But Angel? The last year had been hell. They couldn't even drink to try and forget even for a second. Whenever they had drunk, whether one drink or to blackout, they went back to square one of their grief. Screaming, crying, giving up all hope.
Even so they were considering adding some liquor to the tea in their hand. Maybe this time would be different. New Year, New Me, Same Crap?
They heard the door open behind them and held their tea out so Tank could take a sip if they wanted.
"I don't want your cold tea Angel," they huffed, settling next to their friend, stealing a little of the blanket on their lap.
They sat in silence for a little bit before Angel spoke.
"I didn't ask, what are your New Years Resolutions?"
"Uhh... Stop smoking I guess. What about you?"
Before they would have said something, even if it wasn't true.
I want to get stronger, I want to drink less, I want to try a new style. Now,
"I don't even know how to get through a week, let alone have a goal for a whole year."
Tank reached out, took their hand to warm it. "You can't stay like this forever. You have to do something Angel, we'll all help you."
They had wanted to have this conversation for so long. It had felt like their soul had been screaming for so long that they needed to move. They needed to be someone, not a memory.
"I stopped a year ago Tank and I don't know how to start again. This house is too big... too full for just me. But I can't sell it. I sleep in the guest bedroom because the master is ours but it's just me and this long after it feels silly. Like I should be able to take up a whole room with just me and not a dead mans clothes and cologne and memories."
The tears would definitely count as streaming down their face and while Tank had been smart enough to bring a box of tissues Angel didn't reach for them.
"And you wanna know something terrible? Some days I only make it through because I tell myself I can die tomorrow. Just get through today, tie up your loose ends and tomorrow you can die and it'll finally be over."
It's not that they actually wanted to die. It just seemed like the simplest option. Then they wouldn't have to clean him out of their closet. Then they wouldn't have to pretend to ignore the guilt emanating from Asher, because he still hadn't forgiven himself even though they told him there was nothing to forgive and meant it. Then they wouldn't have to plan the rest of their life around the hole he left in them.
Tank pulled their friend into a hug.
"I think you just need some space. To be somewhere other than Dahlia, even just for a little while."
Angel shook their head on reflex. They were too tired, they couldn't plan a whole trip. Where would they even go?
Tank pushed an envelope into their hand.
"Take this and try and enjoy it. You don't have to worry about booking anything. All you'll need to do is pack and hail a taxi at the airport."
Angel wiped their eyes before opening the package. Plane tickets, accommodation details and a brochure for Yellowstone Park.
Tank explained that Milo, Asher and all their mates had planned and paid for them to get a week somewhere different, for them to use or ignore if they really wanted. They had even spoken to Angel's work.
"And," Tank said after explaining, "If you still want to die you can just let one of the wolves there eat you."
Angel even managed a laugh in response. "Thank you Tank. Really. But, can I ask a favour?"
Angel considered the tickets in their hand again before asking, "Would you be here when I get back, so it's not empty?"
"Of course, Angel. And I'll have a terrible cup of tea waiting for you."
Angel went on that trip. And at least one every year after that.
Prague, Kyoto, Brisbane, Vienna, Edmonton, Versailles.
They collected photos, experiences and stories from locals. Once or twice they told people their name was Angel, just because. Just to see how it would feel to hear that name again.
They became a regular at pack meetings again, needing a place to exchange the latest souvenirs they purchased for everyone and of course show off their photos and great language skills.
True to their word, Tank met them at their house after every trip and they would exchange gossip and trinkets into the wee hours.
When Tank left though, and the quiet of an empty house settled on Angel they would approach the master bedroom. They still couldn't bring themselves to sleep their most days but they could be in the room without grief crushing them.
There was a collection on top of the dresser. Pictures of David and Angel (serious and silly), a bottle of his cologne, Angels' grandparents wedding rings and mementos of their travels. A little Koala and Tom Nook next to long dead flowers from Japan and Jeju island.
An altar to him, so there was some connection between before and now. At the front of all the bits and bobs, one trinket stood out from the rest. A solid metal keyring from that first trip to Yellowstone. A small titanium wolf, watching over them.
