In reality, he’s made a mess of things, and it’s a mess he has to set right before he and Robbie can possibly have their impossible chance.

So, he puts one foot ahead of the other and doesn’t turn back. Not even when, moments after he reaches the road, he sees a dark car that can only be whatever Niall rented at the airport in Omaha, going far too fast for the conditions, which results in a wild fishtail as he brakes at the sight of Lance.

When the car is stopped, haphazard in the middle of the slick road, Niall throws open the door and steps out cautiously, but his face lights up at the sight of Lance. His square white teeth flash in the steel-grey frame of his always-impeccable beard, and the corners of his eyes crinkle into those deep crow’s feet that caused Lance, early in their acquaintance, to mistake Niall for a happy person.

“Thank God you called,” he says, stirring as though he means to walk toward Lance, but the foot he’s moved slips and he clings to the car door instead, and his smile quickly contorts into a frown. “Well, get in, won’t you? I’m parked in the middle of the road.” As always, his voice is so soft that it shouldn’t carry like it does, but his every quiet word rings in Lance’s ears as clear as a shout.

Lance has had a lot of practice behaving a certain way around Niall, and people like him. Right now, though, clothing himself in the disguise he’s worn so much during his years since leaving home, where he’s a sweet, docile young man grateful for the guidance of someone older and wiser, takes more focus than it used to. He still feels like he’s out of character as he offers a sheepish smile and steps toward the passenger door. Though it hasn’t been even a week since he donned this ruse daily without a thought or a care, now it feels like it’s woven from nettles, prickly and wrong.

“My poor angel,” Niall says, scanning him with a frown as he settles into the passenger seat of the sedan. “What on Earth are you wearing?”

Lance pushes back his hair—an old habit he can’t shake, even though it’s too short now to get in his face. “All of my clothes were in the car. They didn’t let me take anything out of it.” He tries to sound subdued and repentant. “R—my friend loaned me these.”

If Niall notices his slip, and how just the suggestion of speaking Robbie’s name in Niall’s presence makes Lance freeze, he doesn’t show it. He’s probably preoccupied with navigating the road, which he’s not doing with any skill, but he’s going slowly enough that if the worst happens and they careen into the trees, they’re at least unlikely to die. Lance hastily buckles his seatbelt, though, just in case.

“Well, we’ll have to take an inventory and make sure none of the local law enforcement had sticky fingers when they were handling our property.” He glances askance. “Is there anything you’d like to tell me, Angel?”