Leaves a little Husker plushie in his room. Yes she fuckin' bribed one of the moth girls a shit ton of money to get it in there. There was a tag on the little Husk that read:
From Sir Pen & Vaggi. Miss you. Come home soon
As Angel stumbled through the door of his room with only one objective: collapse on the bed, not the floor. Make it to the bed. Don't hit the floor. Make it to the-
The spider's legs gave out, knees scuffing into the carpet while his upper hands sank into the bedsheets. Close enough. Three hands tugged at the mattress to try and hoist himself up on top of it, while a fourth clung onto a bottle of something he had found in Val's minibar that was currently sloshing out onto the floor. How he managed to make it onto the bed and still holding the bottle, he would never know. He certainly wouldn't remember.
After allowing a moment for the room to slow its spinning, Angel began to shimmy himself over to the pillows, fumbling around with the sheets to figure out how exactly he could get underneath them. He took one last glug from the almost empty bottle before letting it clatter to the floor, all four hands necessary to figure out how the fuck to go to bed. He'd feel better once he'd gotten some sleep.
While feeling around, Angel's hand came in contact with something plush and soft. Something he didn't recognise. Frowning, he lifted his head up to peer at what he was holding, double vision eventually merging into a singular image clear enough for him to see what it was.
A little cat plush, the spitting image of Husk.
Bewildered, Angel's hands ran over the soft fur of the plush, finding the tag attached and squinting to read it.
The crashing wave of loneliness that followed was almost unbearable. How the Hell had they even gotten this gift here for him? He squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself not to cry for the millionth fucking time since he had run back and relapsed, clutching the plush to his chest as tightly as he could. Right now, it was all he had.
He couldn't think about how much he missed his friends. He wouldn't allow himself to think about it. Instead, he held the Husk plush with a desperate, longing kind of affection and begged his drunken mind to fall asleep.