Author E-mail: shannalynn9064@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon & Mutant Enemies. I have no claim and am just borrowing them to indulge in an "I wish" story.
Couple: W/A
Category: AU, Adventure, Romance
Spoilers: Set a few months after the end of S6 for Buffy and S3 for Angel. I'm taking liberties from there. Cordy and Angel are only friends.
Rating: R to be on the safe side
Distribution: NHA, willangel - any others, just ask please : )
Summary: Willow wakes up in LA with amnesia and bad dreams, but are they only nightmares or is something really after her? Can Angel find her and the truth before something happens to his favorite redhead?
Notes: OK, this is my first ever fic, so be kind, but I would love constructive criticism.
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~Part: 1~
She was in a dark, dank room with walls of gray stone. She could smell the dampness in the cool air. Looking around, she noted that she was bound to a large slab of stone in the middle of the room, her hands raised high above her head, wrists in shackles attached to the end of what she assumed to be an altar of some sort. Her feet bore the same type of chains, pulled taut at the bottom of the slab. Movement was virtually impossible.
Turning her head she realized at last that she wasn't alone. Forming a wide circle around her and the altar were a group of people. . .were they people?. . .in black hooded robes chanting a language she didn't recognize. Candles in sconces on the walls, the only source of light in the dark space, cast flickering shadows which only increased her apprehension.
"What's going on?" She asked softly, her voice sounding small and scared even to her own ears. "What are you doing? Where am I? Please!! Let me go!!"
By now her voice had raised to a plaintive wail, her fear flooding her senses as the chanting around her grew louder, the phrases flying faster from their hidden lips. It echoed off the damp stone walls, circling her, bouncing back to fill her ears until her own cries were drowned out by it.
A swirling darkness began to form above her, hovering, growing in size as the chanting continued. One of the robed figures drew closer to the head of the altar, raising its arms and head, it shouted louder than the others, seemingly in supplication of the mass forming above her. Its eyes glowed red she noticed just before the black mass began to lower, enclosing her helpless form. She struggled, pulling at her bonds, feeling the irons digging into her flesh, tearing it open as she screamed. Then she was engulfed in the darkness, feeling the sheer terror, her body weakening, she cried out. Her piercing scream only to be drowned out by the chanting, but she could hear the robed form next to her laughing as she felt herself slipping away.
She bolted upright, gasping for air, whimpering softly. The first thing she noticed was the walls of the room were white, not gray stone. She smelled no dampness, only antiseptic.
"I'm in a hospital," she realized.
Reaching up, she brushed her sweat dampened hair from her forehead and cheeks, holding the other hand to her still pounding heart. Waiting for her breathing and heart rate to return to a somewhat normal state, she then pushed the blankets aside and stood on shaking legs. Making her way to the bathroom, she turned on the light, stepped inside and looked into the mirror.
She saw a pale face, dark circles under the green eyes. She pushed the red shoulder length hair away from her damp cheeks again. Leaning closer to the glass she raised a hand to touch her reflection.
"Who are you?" she whispered softly to the image in the mirror.
~Part: 2~
Angel sat in the nursery, lightly fingering the covers in the crib. In his mind he heard himself cooing to Connor. Remembered walking around the room, holding the small bundle until he slept. A smile teased his lips as he pictured Gunn holding the baby for the first time, like he was a grenade or something, afraid to drop him, but also afraid to hold him close. Connor just kind of dangled in his grip, staring at the man until a whimper and the threat of tears had Gunn handing him over to Cordelia quickly.
The smile faded from his lips to be replaced with a frown and sad eyes. His son. A new memory replaced the old, Connor, no Steven, sealing him in what basically constituted his coffin. His son sending him into the ocean, leaving him to die at the bottom of the sea. Such hate in his eyes as he had watched the steel container bob briefly before sinking down into the dark waters.
A soft glowing light behind him alerted him to his visitor.
"Hello Delia," came his whispered greeting.
"Angel, you're brooding again." She chided him softly. Approaching the vampire, she placed a comforting hand on his arm. "Any word yet?"
Taking an unneeded breath, he sighed, "No. Nothing. I've gone through all of my contacts and nothing. Connor and Justine seem to have disappeared from the face of the planet. Well, at least from LA. They could be anywhere by now Delia. And my son thinks I killed Holtz. He wouldn't believe me. I'd still be at the bottom of the ocean if you hadn't found me. If I wasn't dead, I would be damn close."
Cordelia smiled at her friend. "I'm glad they let me come back to help you before my training was completed. You're lucky the PTB have a thing for you, ya big lug."
Angel's frown faded to a sad grin. "I think they probably got tired of hearing you gripe at them that they shouldn't let their Warrior hang out on the bottom of the Pacific if they wanted my cooperation in the future. Not good to tick off the Warrior that leads their fight. Isn't that what you told them?"
She laughed softly. "Yeah. Something like that. Angel, I know you want to find him. That you want to make him understand, but don't do this to yourself. He will be found when he wants to be found, and only then."
Angel gave her a sidelong look. "What do you know Cordy? Do you know where he is? Are you just not allowed to tell me?" Turning to face his friend he grasped her shoulders tightly and looked into her eyes, searching for answers.
Covering his hands with her own, she squeezed gently, removing them from her shoulders to hold them tightly. "Angel, if I had any idea where your highly confused son was, it would take more than orders from the suits upstairs to get me to keep it from you. You know that. All I'm saying is he's very intelligent. He was raised in a dimension where you fight when it's time, and you hide when it's smart. I think for him right now, hiding is smart."
"I know, but I just wish . . .I wish we could just sit down and talk the whole thing out. Get it all out in the open and settled."
"Angel, when it's time I'm sure he'll come back." Squeezing his hands again before releasing them, she took a step back. "I'm being called. I have to go, but promise me you'll stop brooding, OK? Fred and Gunn need you, and soon my training will be done so I can come back more often. When I get back I want to see a less broody vamp waiting for me, got it?"
He mustered a smile for his friend. "I'll work on it Delia, I promise."
"Good!" She flashed him a patented Queen C smile before starting to glow.
"Cordy," Angel questioned with a frown, "do they really wear suits up there?"
Her grin only widened before she was engulfed in a warm flash of light before disappearing back to the Higher Plane.
"That's going to take some getting used to," he grumbled while waiting for the spots in front of his eyes to disappear.
Taking one last look around the nursery, Angel walked to the door and pulled it shut behind him. "Fred!" he yelled down the steps.
"Yes, Angel?" Her reply floated up to him from the lobby.
"See if you can find some boxes. I need you to help me pack up the nursery. We'll send the clothes and furniture to that woman's shelter over on Sheridan Avenue. We'll work on it tomorrow."
Making his way down the wide staircase, he looked at his friends, giving them a reassuring smile. "Right now, why don't you fill me in on the cases we have pending?"
~Part: 3~
She sat in her bed, reading a magazine one of the nurses aides had brought her. Flipping through the pages, her eyes skimming for anything that might bring about a flash of recognition, she mumbled to herself, "Yeah, right. Like knowing 10 different ways to make your man moan is going to kickstart my memory." Sighing, she tossed the offending periodical away and ran a hand through her hair.
No idea what was wrong with her. No ID when found. That's what the doctors and the police had told her. She had been found unconscious on the sidewalk on Vine Street, but the doctors could find no reason for her to be in such a state. If it was a simple case of fainting, it could have been explained away by a sudden drop in blood sugar, or her being frightened by something. But that wouldn't have explained why she had remained in a coma-like state for four days.
The police informed her she had been found in what appeared to be a white nightgown with no shoes. She had no purse, no wallet, no ID on her when she was found. Of course that didn't mean it hadn't been stolen before the paramedics arrived. This was LA after all.
The doctors and nurses had been patient with the scared young woman. Not knowing who you are or where you're from must be unnerving. Her sweet, almost shy, disposition had endeared her to the staff. Thus the magazines. One of the staff had even brought her flowers, flowers that had belonged to a discharged patient, but it was the thought that counted. Gina, the nightshift nurse, had even snuck her in some homemade brownies when she thought she needed some cheering up.
So here she sat, seven days after waking from her coma-like state and they were discharging her. Dr. Antis had run every test he could think of to try to determine what had caused the young woman's condition, but had found nothing. The police had no leads on her identity. And she had nowhere to go.
Biting her lower lip, the redhead fought to keep the tears at bay. Where was she supposed to go? Detective Richards had left her with information on the programs available and the address of a woman's shelter.
At the knock on her door, she looked up, pushing down her fears to plaster on a smile for Gina. "You're here early today. It's not even noon yet."
Gina smiled back at the fragile looking girl. "Well, I heard rumors that they might be discharging you today. And I know you didn't come in with much, so I brought you a few things you might be able to wear." Walking further into the room she waved the plastic bag in her hands for her favorite patient to see.
"Oh, Gina, that's so sweet. You didn't have to do that though. You didn't go out and spend money on me did you, because then I think I'd be very angry with you. You've already done so much for me" the redhead scolded.
The nurse just smiled. "No, I didn't spend any money. These are some of my old clothes. They might be a little big on you, but I haven't been able to fit into them for ages. Too many brownies on the thighs for that now," she whispered with a conspiritoral wink at the young woman.
Tears filled the girls eyes. "Thank you Gina. So much. For just being so nice to me."
The motherly nurse sat on the edge of the bed facing the redhead. "Look Sweetie, I know you must be scared, and I can't even begin to imagine how nervous you are. I left my phone number in the bag for you. If you ever want to talk, just give me a call. I wish I could do more for you, but I barely make ends meet now, especially with my daughter just moving home with her baby."
The girl smiled up at the woman. "I know, and I couldn't possibly ask you to take in a total stranger anyway. But I do want to thank you for all you've done. It's made being here a little less hard, I think."
Gina squeezed the girl's hand reassuringly. "So what are you going to do now? Where are you going to go?"
"Well, Detective Richards gave me the name of a woman's shelter over on Sheridan Avenue. He called ahead and they're expecting me. He said he'd keep in contact, checking for missing persons reports and stuff like that. Dr. Antis was in earlier and told me they'd let me know when the paperwork was done, then I could sign out and leave."
"I know that woman's shelter. It's a good one. Run by a woman named Dana Engles. She has a lot of runaways and battered women she takes in. Very motherly."
"Like someone else I know?" The green eyes sparkled at the nurse with a bit of teasing.
"Oh, hush sweetie. You'll ruin my image around here. But if you want I can wait until they discharge you and drive you over. I don't go on duty until tonight, but I didn't want to miss you if they were going to send you home."
"Home," the girl murmered. "Do you think I'll ever figure out where that is Gina?"
The woman leaned forward and gave the redhead a comforting hug. "I'm sure you will honey. It will all come back to you eventually."
Remembering the horrible nightmares she'd been having every night since she woke up, the girl shuddered in her embrace. "Maybe it's just better off forgotten," she whispered.
~Part: 4~
Devon, England
Giles sat drinking his tea and reading the paper. He'd had quite the busy morning researching the lost tribe of Molanto and their ritualistic customs for the Council. "Bloody idiots. Who cares if the Molanto sacrificed a dozen rabbits to increase their fertility? Although Anya would probably say good for them. The rabbits deserved it."
Chuckling, he laid his paper down, a smile remaining on his face as he thought of his children in Sunnydale. . .and the one at the other end of town staying with Karine and the rest of her coven. He hoped Willow was doing well. After The Incident, as he began calling it, occurred Giles had brought Willow back to England with him. She was a broken young woman. The woman she loved murdered. The man who had shot Tara and Buffy dead at her own hands. . .well, dead at her own witchcraft anyway. And her friends bruised and battered by herself, not to mention the whole incinerating the earth issue.
Shaking his head, he hoped her time with the coven would help her to control her powers. He blamed himself partially. He had seen how her powers had increased over time. He knew she was more than a novice. There was no doubt, especially after the confrontations with Glory. He should have set her up with someone earlier to teach her how to harness her powers, to learn to use them wisely. Instead she had fallen into a trap many unsupervised witches find themselves in. Black arts, addicted, unable to stop themselves from casting.
Frowning, he thought back. He had been very busy with research for the Council for the last couple of weeks. Trying to count the days since he had last heard from Willow, he couldn't be sure, but it was definitely over a week since they had last spoken. Karine had told him they would be undergoing a cleansing of her powers, to rid her of any dark powers remaining, leaving her magic pure once again. Then from there exercises on restraint and harnessing her energies properly would be applied. It was an intense training regimen, but one Willow had willingly given herself over to in the hopes to keep her friends safe from herself.
Just as he was about to give her a call to see how she was doing, the phone rang as he held the cordless receiver in his hand, startling him.
"Hello?" He answered.
"Giles?"
"Buffy. Yes, how are you? Is there a problem? A new demon?"
"No, Giles. I was wondering. . .is Willow OK?"
Removing his glasses, he began wiping the lenses with his napkin. "Well, as you know she's in training with Karine and her coven here in Devon. She's staying with them, and actually I was just about to call her. I realized I hadn't spoken to her in over a week and. . ."
"A week!?! Giles, are you sure she's OK to be there, with all that magic? And I know she's trying to learn how to control herself, but. . .Giles I've been having these dreams about her." Her voice trailed off quietly.
Sitting straighter, he put his glasses back on. "What kind of dreams Buffy? Your normal dreams or your prophetic dreams?"
"I'm not sure. I see her in a dark room, almost like a dungeon or basement. She's scared and she's tied down. She's crying for help, but I can't get to her. Then there's this cloudy like thing, only it's black and swirly and it's kind of hovering over her. It's what she's scared of, and I can just feel the evil radiating off of it. Then she's wandering some dark alley, just wandering. And I get the feeling she's so lost." A break in her voice let Giles know just how much the dream had his Slayer worried. "Giles I can feel how scared and lost she is. It's like she doesn't even know which way to go. Where to go."
"Buffy, I'm sure she's fine. Karine is a very powerful witch herself and I know she is a very good mentor for Willow, but I will give her a call. Maybe ask her if she would like to get some dinner tonight. I'll check up on her and get back to you as soon as I know she's alright. I promise."
Hearing her sigh of relief on the other end, he had to smile. "Please, Giles. That would be great. I know I'm probably just being a worry wart, but. . .she's our Wills, ya know? And we miss her. And we just want her to be OK. We want her to come home in one piece and we'll work on the rest of it together when she gets here. Even Anya's asking about her."
"Right, well, how can she go wrong when she has a vengeance demon pulling for her? I'll call her now Buffy, and I'll call you back as soon as I get off the phone."
"Thanks Giles. I'll be waiting for your call. Bye."
"Yes, good-bye Buffy."
Hitting the button to disconnect his call, he waited a moment to hit it again before dialing Karine's number. He let the phone ring a good ten times before his forehead furrowed. He was quite certain that Karine had an answering machine. He had gotten it when he called her before. Maybe she was on an important call on another line. A thousand excuses flitted through his mind, but through it all a deep feeling of dread began to form in the pit of his stomach.
It was just a ten minute drive. And it was a lovely day. Grabbing his keys he headed out the door to visit Willow in person.
~Part: 5~
"Well, I think that's the last of it." Gunn looked around the now empty nursery. Boxes littered the hallway filled with Connor's toys and clothes. The furniture disassembled to make for easier moving. "Are you sure you're ready for this Angel, man?" He looked sideways at his boss who was holding a stuffed bear and smiling sadly.
"Yeah, it's time Gunn. He won't be needing any of this again, and something tells me the PTB don't intend for me to get another chance at fatherhood. . .at least not until I earn my mortality."
Fred walked over to Angel and laid a hand on his arm. "It was his favorite," she said softly as she regarded the bear with him. "Maybe one or two keepsakes won't hurt. One day he'll come back and the two of you will make up and he might want some reminders of his childhood, you know?"
"Ever the optimist, Fred." He chuckled. "Alright, I'll keep Mr. Bear. The rest goes, though. Come on Gunn. Let's load up the car."
Fred followed them down the steps with a light box of clothing. "I called ahead Angel and Dana Engels runs the shelter. She said they'd be waiting for you. Just knock on the front door when you get there. She was very excited about your donation. She sounded very nice too."
"Well, someone might as well get some use out of these things. They've served their purpose here." His voice trailed off, his eyes glazing over as memories assaulted him once again.
Fred and Gunn exchanged looks over the trunk of the car, hoping this would help Angel move on, that it would be a cleansing experience for the vampire. Cordelia was right. He had brooded enough. When Connor was ready, he would come back and face his father.
~Part: 6~
Giles drove through the old streets of Devon, then turned onto a more secluded tree lined dirt road. As he rounded a bend, an old three story home came into view. He pulled to the front door and got out of his car. He admired the house and its serene location. It was set very near a small patch of woods and the sounds of the forest surrounded him. He could hear the birds chirping. He smiled as he saw a fawn and it's mother drinking from a small stream that ran along the rear of the property.
He approached the front porch, walked calmly up the steps, the smile remained on his face as he thought of seeing Willow again. He hoped she was doing better. The last time he had seen her, when he dropped her off, she had been nervous, trembling and scared. Giles hoped she had found the peace here she so desperately needed.
He knocked on the front door and to his surprise it wasn't closed. The door swung open under the pressure of his pounding. A sudden sense of dread filled him, pushing the perfection of the day to the back of his mind. He crossed the threshold after a moment's hesitation.
"Karine? Willow? Hello? Is anyone home? I. . .It's Rupert. Rupert Giles here to see Willow. Hello?" He called out, but no one answered. The house was eerily quiet. The only sounds he could hear were the birds in the trees out back and the sound of the gurgling stream through the open windows. The white lace curtains blew in the gentle breeze as he made his way further into the house.
"Hello? Is anyone here?" When he stepped into the front parlor, he immediately knew something was wrong. There was an odor about the house. Something foul filled the air as he made his way deeper into the room. "Willow!?" His voice rose with a touch of panic in it.
His pace quickened as he began searching the house, noticing only then the overturned lamps and end tables. The phone was ripped out of the wall. There was a stain on the carpet in the dining room that looked suspiciously like blood. "WILLOW!" There was no doubt as to the panic in his tone now.
He flung open the doors of the gathering room, the room where the coven would meet to discuss matters and to cast spells. As soon as the door was open, he was gagged by the stench of death assaulting him. Giles pulled his handkerchief from his pocket to cover his mouth and nose as he hesitantly made his way through the doorway.
His eyes widened as he took in the scene before him. Dark pools of blood stained the hardwood floors and piled in the center of a large pentagram were the bodies of the witches in Karine's coven. All were mutilated, soaked in the blood of themselves and their sisters. Sightless eyes stared at him in horror. The panic of their last moments easily reflected on their now bloated and gray faces.
"Oh, dear Lord," he murmured. His stomach turned at the sight of the butchered mass in front of him. He could see the broken necks, the slashes in the bodies made by no human. These were claw marks. Something large had ripped these ladies to shreds.
Giles fought down his nausea as he approached the pile, searching it for a familiar head of red hair. "Please don't let her be here," he prayed silently. "Please, God, let her be safe and away from here." He circled the group, prodded gently, reverently lifted bodies to look underneath. And only when he was certain his young charge wasn't among the dead did he back away, feeling tears forming.
He backed out of the house, stumbled slightly as he turned and ran down the front steps. His feet left a trail of blood behind. Giles sat in his car for a moment, trying to make his hands stop shaking long enough to insert the key into his ignition. Once it started, he flew down the dirt driveway and back toward his home. He needed to call Buffy. His slayers dreams may have been prophetic after all.
"Where are you Willow? Please, God, let her be safe!"
~Part: 7~
She moved about in a fog, sort of drifting from room to room, smiling shyly at the other women present. They had all been kind to her. Dana, the woman who ran the shelter, had greeted her upon arrival and Gina had stayed with her about an hour or so to make sure she got settled in alright. The kind nurse had hugged her close as she prepared to leave and the girl felt her tears well up again. She clung desperately to Gina before forcing herself to let go.
"Remember, call if you need me sweetie. If you want to talk, or maybe we can go grab some ice cream one afternoon, huh? Take care of yourself Erin." She gave the redhead a motherly kiss on her cheek before waving her good-byes.
Dana had immediately designated her Erin upon her arrival. "We may not know your real name, but we can't go around calling you 'Hey you!' or sweetie and honey all the time, now can we? Hmmm, all that red hair and those pretty green eyes. How about Erin?"
Erin had smiled weakly at the kindly older woman. It didn't ring a bell in the least, so she figured she was right. It wasn't her real name, but then again, since no one knew what it was, they DID need to call her something, didn't they. "That would be fine. I. . It's a nice name."
Erin made her way to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water. She leaned back against the sink, lost in a twisted mass of swirling thoughts. Her mind going a hundred miles per hour. Who was she? Where did she come from? Did she have a family that was worried about her? Or friends? Was she from LA? Why was she in the middle of an LA street in her nightgown? What about these dreams she'd been having?
She shivered at the thought of the nightmares. Bits and pieces of the terror filled dreams flooded her thoughts. The altar, the black swirling cloud engulfing her. Then there were the other dreams. Long blond hair, blue-gray eyes and blood. The words, "Your shirt," echoing in her head as she watched blood spread on a blue t-shirt. Running through dark woods, no not running, stalking. Screams of terror, voices pleading for mercy, to make it stop. Pain. So much pain, like a billion shards of glass tearing at her soul, making her want to scream. A voice, pleading, emphatic as it told her over and over "I love you". Yellow crayons, blood covered bullets, wired rimmed glasses, a star drawn in a circle in the middle of a room. Blood, bodies, screams. . .
The glass shattered and water splashed her jeans as it fell to the floor from her shaking hand, startling her out of her waking nightmare.
"Damn," she mumbled, reaching for the paper towels. By the time she was done cleaning up her mess and she had deposited the last of the glass shards into the garbage her heart rate had slowed down to normal. She was just reaching for another glass when Torie, one of the young runaways, popped her head through the doorway.
"Someone's here to drop off a donation. There's a lot of boxes. Can you come help us unload them?"
"Sure. I'll be right there."
Torie was already out of the room before Erin closed the cabinet door. Pulling up Gina's too big jeans and straightening her t-shirt, she headed for the front entrance to help out.
~Part: 8~
The car loaded, Gunn and Angel drove to Sheridan Avenue, talking during the short drive.
"So, Delia came to see you today, huh?"
Angel looked askance at his friend. "Yeah. Told me I was brooding too much again."
The man laughed. "Girl's not even on the same plane as us and she can sense your brooding. Now that's talent. Either that or your broodiness is so powerful it tears through time and space," he teased.
"Ha. Ha. Very funny Gunn. See me laughing," Angel replied sarcastically and straight faced. "She said her training's almost done. She can come back more often once it's complete."
"Well that's good, man. I kinda miss having the prom queen around, and if you tell her I said that I'll deny it every came from this mouth."
The vampire chuckled at that as he pulled into a parking space in front of a brick building. A small sign hanging over the door proclaimed it to be "Sanctuary".
The men strode to the front door and knocked, only to have it answered by a young girl, maybe fifteen or sixteen. She had long dark brown hair and eyes to match. She looked the men up and down before yelling to someone deeper inside the building, "Dana, there are two yummy hunks out here. Can I let them in? And if I do, can I keep them?"
A woman in her fifties with graying blond hair, pulled back in a short ponytail emerged from another room. She bustled with energy as she took in the scene before her. "Mr. Gunn?" She asked, looking back and forth between the men.
Gunn stepped forward first to shake her hand, easily penetrating the barrier that Angel couldn't. "Ms. Engles, I'm Charles Gunn. This is my boss, Angel. He's the one making the donation that my girlfriend called about yesterday. We've got everything in the car," he pointed over his shoulder, indicating the convertible.
"Angel," she spoke reaching to shake his hand. "It's a pleasure and your generosity welcome. So many of the women here have little ones and no way of providing for them. Some just leave their homes in the middle of the night with nothing more than a few spare diapers and bottles. I truly appreciate any help we can get here. Please come in."
Angel entered the building, shaking the woman's hand and smiling gently at her. "Anything I can do to help. My son's. . .uh, outgrown all of it and I'd like to see it put to good use."
The dark haired teen was still eyeing the men up and down. She leaned closer and whispered in Dana's ear mischievously, "So, do I get to keep them Dana?"
The older woman teasingly spanked the young girl's bottom as she laughed. "Enough of that Torie. Go get some of the other girls to help with the unloading of the boxes. Now scoot!"
The teen threw both males in the room a little smirk and a wink before sashaying away into the building. Dana rolled her eyes. "Gentlemen, can I get you something to drink?"
"That won't be necessary Ms. Engles. And you don't have to have any of the ladies unload the car. We can do that for you," Angel replied.
"My girls share in everything around here. It helps to keep them close. Builds a support system. And a little work doesn't hurt."
"Well, at least let us get the heavy stuff for you, the furniture. I don't know if they'd be able to handle that," Gunn offered.
"That would be kind Mr. Gunn. Ah, here come some of the girls now. Ladies, we've got some donations that need to go up to the nursery. These gentlemen will be helping to unload."
A group of about ten women filtered out to the street, ranging in age from about fourteen to forty. Many of them too nervous to raise their eyes to look at the men handing them the boxes as they pulled them from the car.
Angel felt his undead heart clench for them. He had forgotten this was a woman's shelter. Many of these women had been battered and abused and had little or no trust for members of the opposite sex. Then there was Torie. As she approached him she had a bit of a leer on her face. Angle chuckled at the young girl. She was going to be a handful for Dana. That was for sure.
He bent to pick up another box from the floor of the backseat and when he turned around his mouth dropped open. Standing before him, arms out held for the waiting box, was a very familiar redhead.
"Willow?!"
~Part: 9~
The redhead stared blankly up at the handsome man. She noted his shocked expression, his jaw hanging open as he gaped at her. What had he just said? Willow? Something tickled the back of her mind.
The man dropped the box he had been holding and gripped her shoulders tightly as he ran his eyes up and down her body, looking for confirmation that this was his friend. Why was she looking at him like she didn't recognize him.
"Willow, what are you doing here?"
By now a crowd of the women had gathered, curious, and also slightly nervous for the small girl that looked so confused. The man was gripping her tightly, shooting questions at her left and right, not giving her time to answer.
"Dana?" Erin whimpered slightly, tried to back away from the intensity in the man's gaze, tried to pull her arms from his grasp.
The motherly woman hurried to the front of the group, taking in the scared look on the girl's face. Erin, honey, it's OK. Angel, please let her go. You're scaring the poor girl."
Gunn watched the scene unfold from his position by the trunk, the collapsible playpen in his arms forgotten. He stared at the girl in his boss' grip, recognizing her vaguely as the one who had brought the news of the slayer's death so many months ago. But now she looked like she didn't even know him. Maybe it wasn't that girl, Willow. They did say everyone in the world has a twin.
Angel relaxed his grip on his friend's arms, sensed her fear of him, her confusion. "Willow, what's wrong? Honey, why are you looking at me like that?" He deliberately made his voice soft and soothing.
Dana came up and put her arm around the trembling girl's shoulders. "Angel, do you know her? This is Erin. . .well, I named her Erin. She came to us this morning. She was found unconscious on the street and when she woke up in the hospital she had amnesia."
Angel listened to the woman's explanation, his eyes never leaving Willow's pale face. "Yes, I know her. Willow, I'm Angel. We're friends. I've known you for about six years now."
"Angel?" She rolled the name around on her tongue, her brow furrowed in concentration. Then she shook her head, tears coming to her eyes. "I'm sorry. I don't remember you. But you know me? My name is Willow?"
The vampire smiled gently at her. She seemed so lost. "Yes. You're Willow Rosenberg. You live in Sunnydale, California, which is a couple hours south of here."
Dana interrupted him. "Why don't the two of you come in and use my office for this little reunion? Ladies, please finish taking the donation to the nursery." She ushered the two of them into a small office and sat on her desk, holding the confused girl's hand.
"Now Angel, how do you know. . .uh, Willow?"
"I used to date her best friend. I lived in Sunnydale for several years before I moved to LA." He frowned. If Willow was missing why hadn't Buffy or Giles called him? He hadn't spoken with either of them since. . .well, since before Connor tossed him to the bottom of the ocean. "How long were you in the hospital Willow? What was wrong with you?"
He ran his eyes over her, looking for injuries.
"I, um, I was there for eleven days. The first four I was in a coma. The rest, they ran tests, trying to figure out what was wrong with me, but they couldn't find anything." Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper. The man was looking at her with such concern. Could it be true? Could he really know her?
'A coma? Hmm, might have been something caused by magics, not blunt force trauma,' he thought to himself.
"Angel, while you seem genuine enough, I have to tell you, I'm very protective of my girls. So before I just hand her over to you, I'm going to need some sort of proof that you actually know her," Dana firmly stated.
Angel reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. He pulled a folded picture from it and gently opened it, revealing a picture of Willow, in her graduation cap and gown surrounded by four others. There was a pretty blond with hazel eyes, her arm wrapped around the redhead's shoulders, their heads pressed together as they smiled brightly for the camera. A tall dark haired young man standing behind them, hands on their shoulders and a goofy grin on his face. A shorter boy with reddish blond hair with his arm wrapped around the redhead's waist, a small smirk of a grin graced his visage. Finally there was a tall dark haired beauty standing on the other side of the smaller boy, with a small smile on her face. All were in caps and gowns. All looked so happy. A few years younger than she was now, but so obviously the girl sitting in Dana Engles' office.
He turned the picture over, letting Dana read the words on the back. "Angel, I just wanted you to have something to remember your time in Sunnydale. This was taken BEFORE graduation. Note the school still standing in the background. We did it. We survived. I hope you find what you're looking for in LA. And just remember, if you ever need anything, don't be afraid to call. Your friend always, Willow Rosenberg."
The girl read the words, traced the looping script with her fingers. She had written this. She had given it to this man in front of her. Her friend. She looked up at him with tear filled eyes. "I'm Willow," she whispered, then flung herself into his arms crying.
~Part: 10~
Angel cradled the sobbing redhead on his lap, gently rubbing her back and mumbling nonsensical words of comfort. ‘What on earth happened to her?" He wondered. ‘Why wouldn’t Buffy or Giles call me if she was missing. Eleven days she’s been here and who knows how many days she was gone before that.’
Willow collected herself when she realized she was sitting on the handsome man’s lap drenching the front of his obviously expensive silk shirt with her tears. Suddenly feeling uncomfortable and slightly embarassed, she pulled away from his loose embrace, blushing and wiping her cheeks with the back of her hands.
"I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. . .it’s just I’m so glad that someone knows who I am. I’ve been so scared, not knowing who I am, I mean. And that’s so me in that picture and I wrote on the back of it and gave it to you, so you must be my friend, right? But I didn’t mean to, you know, blubber all over you and now. . .oh, your shirt, I’m so sorry. It’s all wet now and I didn’t mean to jump you. . .on your lap, I mean. I think I’m rambling, so I’ll just be quiet now. . ." She trailed off.
Angel smiled brightly at her. "Babbling."
Confused green eyes looked up at him. "Excuse me?"
"Babbling," Angel replied. "It’s the term we use for Willow-speak. When you get going there’s no stopping you," he chuckled.
Willow smiled shyly at him, nervously wringing her hands, but not making any move to pull completely from his arms anytime soon. Dana smiled at the young woman, delighted to see some color in her cheeks. She had been so pale and skittish since she arrived earlier in the day. Now there was a bloom on her cheeks, a blush even, and a small smile gracing her lips.
"I think the fates were watching out for you Erin, I mean Willow. They brought you to me so your friend could find you. I will need to call Detective Richards and let him know the situation. We should probably have you stay here tonight, at least until he can get all of the paperwork sorted out. Should only take a day or two at the most."
Angel frowned. He didn’t want to leave Willow here tonight. He wanted to take her back to the hotel with him. She would probably be safe at the shelter, but he would feel much better knowing she was under his protection, under his roof. He didn’t know what had caused her amnesia, but he didn’t want to take the chance that there was some supernatural force out there looking for the young witch.
"Ms. Engles, I appreciate your concern, but I would really feel better if Willow could come home with me. I’m not sure what happened, but I would like to make a few phone calls to Sunnydale and see what’s going on. Also, she’s been to my place before. Maybe something will jog her memory there." Angel didn’t mention she had only been to the Hyperion once, and at that time she had been grieving so deeply and trying to comfort him at the same time that she probably couldn’t even tell the woman if the floors were wood and marble or brick and vinyl. "I give you my word, I won’t let anything happen to her. I can promise you that."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his business card, handing it over to Dana. This is my business. It’s also my home. I will personally call Detective Richards myself tomorrow and give him all the details I know and everything I find out from our friends in Sunnydale."
The older woman took the card, rubbing her thumbs over it, almost as if she were trying to get a sense of the man’s sincerity and honesty. Apparently coming to a decision of her own, she turned to the girl still sitting on the man’s lap. "Willow, I’ll leave the decision up to you. If you feel comfortable enough to go with Angel, I won’t stand in your way."
The redhead chewed on her bottom lip, looking at the kind woman, then turned to study the handsome man’s face. Angel felt as if her eyes were boring into his soul. He could clearly see her wet spikey eyelashes, she was so close. If he had had a breath to hold, he would have, as he waited in anticipation for her answer. Would she trust him enough? Would she understand that he would never hurt her. Could she see that he considered her a friend and accept it without remembering their past? She watched his eyes closely and in them she only found compassion and caring and she somehow knew it was all for her and that he would keep her safe.
Turning back to the motherly woman, Willow smiled shyly. "If it’s ok with you Mrs. Engles, I think I’ll be fine with Angel. I don’t remember anything, but I can just feel I should trust him."
A smile of relief spread across the vampire’s face. "I promise you won’t regret your decision Willow. As soon as we get back to the Hyperion, I’m calling Giles and Buffy and finding out what the hell is going on in Sunnydale. I want to know why they didn’t let me know you were even missing."
Her decision made, she settled more comfortably onto his lap. "Who are Giles and Buffy? Are they my parents?"
The vampire chuckled at the image that statement provoked. "No, Buffy’s your best friend and Giles is sort of your mentor, almost like a father to you."
They all turned as they heard a knock on the doorframe.
"Angel," Gunn began, but stalled as he took in the little redhead on his boss’ lap. "Uh, the car’s unloaded. We’re good to go whenever you are."
Willow hopped up off the dark haired man’s lap. "Just let me grab a few things and I’ll be right back." She started out of the room, but then turned back and hugged the seated vampire. "Thank you," she whispered gratefully before practically skipping out of the office to grab her bag of meager belongings.
Gunn smiled and made room for the redhead to exit the room before turning
back to Angel. "So, I guess we’re having company?"
His boss nodded. "Sure are. Willow’s coming home with us."