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[ <small>Rhys has been gone too long.

It isn't <i>that</i> unusual for him to go missing for a few days -- they're supposed to be trying to be less codependent and he is, after all, a giant slutbag -- but not like this. They'd all picked up some (hideously primitive) cellphones after poofling to this world through the portal, so even while apart they've been able to stay in touch. But now it's been a month (<i>thirty-three days plus a few hours, actually,</i>) without any word. At all. Despite increasingly-desperate messages being sent to him at ever-shortening intervals by each member of the fam.

A <i>month.</i> They're all pretty sure he's dead, even if none of them dares to say it out loud.

They're all following their own leads - Enoch is scouring everything within a five mile radius of their place, Beckett has gone underground mumbling something about <i>Nosferatu,</i> and Angel is doing what she does best and following the tech trail. She tracks Rhys' phone signal to its last known location and starts asking around - she's done this before now, obviously, but this time she heads further out and her efforts are rewarded with a possible sighting.

Well. She's 99% sure it's a sighting, anyway. The barman mentioned a guy made of toothpicks wearing stripey pants and elf booties, and there can't possibly be <i>two</i> of them. He <i>also</i> mentioned the men he was drinking with, even managing to give up a name for one of them: Lawrence Oleander. Distinctive enough for him to remember after just a glance at his ID, and also distinctive enough for Angel to google and get his address. No phaseshifting bullshit necessary. <i>Sweet.</i>

Naturally, it's dark by the time she reaches the apartment. After making sure no one is around to see, she flies up to the window and oh-so-casually lets herself in. And by lets herself in I mean she kicks a hole in the glass like a fucking BAMF so she can stick her hand through it and open the window from the inside. NAILED IT.

The room is empty, unless you count the plants. Angel is careful not to knock any of them over as she climbs inside (it's not <i>their</i> fault that this guy might have mugged and/or murdered Rhys), and she immediately starts snoofling around for clues. Nothing under the bed. Nothing incriminating in any drawers or cupboards. There are a lot of jars of things that might be tea <i>but also might be poison,</i> but that seems like a silly thought even as she thinks it. There certainly isn't anything she'd been scared of finding, like, Iunno - a single bloodstained elf booty or something.

Goddammit, she's broken into an innocent dude's apartment, hasn't she. She's going to have to leave him a few bucks for the window.

One more thing before she goes and tries to track down the other guy that was spotted with Rhys instead: the bathroom. She opens the door with absolutely zero expectation of finding anything, of course, because who the fuck kidnaps a dude and keeps him in the <i>bathroom?</i>

Lawrence, apparently.</small> ]

Rhys?

[ <small>Her voice is a lot smaller and more frightened than it's ever been before, but that doesn't matter all that much because Rhys is <i>dead.</i> He's dead, right? He has to be dead, because <i>his freaking limbs have been cut off,</i> and you don't just survive that even if you're sort of beefed up with semi-vampire superpowers. Do you? Is that a thing? She really doesn't know if that's a thing. All she knows is that there is approximately half a Rhys in the tub and someone is screaming and it might be her and she's trying to pick him up and maybe he's not dead because he's too warm to be dead? But look at him. <i>Look at him.</i></small> ]

Please don't be - Rhys? <i>Rhys!!</i>