Part 1
Willow paused at the door. Her feet seemed cemented
to the floor. She could see freedom just three feet
from her. A bead of sweat trickled between her
breasts as her heart raced violently in her chest.
She ran her hand through her ragged hair.
“Willow?”
Startled, she turned to the man beside her. She gave
Dr. Piel a nervous smile. “I’m afraid,” she
whispered.
“Afraid of what?” he asked.
Turning her green eyes back to the door to freedom,
she shrugged. “I’m not sure. Of being out there, I
guess.”
Piel placed a hand on her thin shoulder. “You’ve been
in a mental institution for two years, Willow. It’s
normal to be afraid of returning to the world outside
these walls,” he said with a reassuring squeeze.
“What if I fail?” she asked.
“Fail at what?” He knew exactly what she was asking,
but he wanted to make sure she understood her fears
and could cope with them.
“What if I fail at being sane?” A tear slipped from
her lower lashes and ran down her cheek.
“Well, that’s why we’re going to continue our sessions
while you’re on the outside. To ensure that you don’t
fail,” Piel said with a confident grin. This brave
red head had seen the demons of hell and beyond, yet
she was afraid to step out side the door.
Taking a deep breath to gather her courage, Willow
reached out a hand and set it on the handle. She
swallowed the fear back into her gut. Slowly, she
turned the cool metal handle and pushed. With two
steps she stood in the sun again. She blinked rapidly
as the bright light burned her eyes. She was free.
Although she didn’t expect a huge fanfare for this
momentous occasion or even a handful of confetti,
Willow thought it deserved some recognition.
“Congratulations,” Dr. Piel said proudly.
Willow smiled shakily at him. “Thank you.”
“You deserve it. You worked hard to get out of this
place.” He gestured towards the parking lot. “Come
on. Let’s get you home.” He carried her small
suitcase to a waiting car.
“Dr. Piel?” Willow asked as she followed him.
“Yes?” he replied as he placed her case into the
trunk.
“Do you drive all your patients home after they’ve
been released?” she asked. She pulled open the door
and stared at him over the roof of the blue Civic.
Piel smiled at her. “Usually my patients have family
members who don’t burst into flames in direct sunlight
to pick them up,” he chuckled.
“Ah.” Willow slid into the passenger seat and buckled
the seat belt.
*****
“Well, is it straight?” Cordelia asked from her perch
on the ladder.
Wesley tilted his head this way and that as he
examined the banner Cordy had stretched across the
wall. “Don’t you think this is a little....garish?”
he asked.
The tall brunette glared down at the ex-Watcher. “I
just asked if it was straight,” she said.
“Yes, it’s straight.”
Cordy taped the last corner in place and climbed down.
Standing back, she admired her handiwork. “Welcome
home, Willow,” she read. “Now what’s garish about
that? It’s a welcome home sign. I’m sure she’ll love
it.”
“She does,” a voice said from behind them.
Turning, Wesley and Cordelia found Willow standing
behind them. “Willow,” they greeted in unison. With
an excited squeal, Cordy gave her an exuberant hug.
“Willow! You look great!” she said. “Well, except
for the hair.” Wesley slipped out of the room while
the two women hugged.
Willow touched the ragged ends of her hair. “You know
what they say about doing your own hair,” she laughed.
Tears welled up in her eyes as she stared at the old
friend standing before her. “You look good,
Cordelia.”
“I do, don’t I?”
“You have no idea.” Willow looked around the hotel
lobby. “Wow. This place sure is something. I
though for sure Dr. Piel had the wrong place.”
Draping an arm around her shoulders, Cordy gave Willow
the five cent tour. “You should have seen it before
we cleaned it up. And I used to think the school
library was dusty. Boy was I wrong.”
“Willow.”
The red head turned to face a voice that had haunted
her dreams for months. “Angel.”
The dark vampire took a step closer to the frightened
girl. He stopped when she took a step back from him.
“Welcome home,” he said.
“Home? I used to think such a place didn’t exist,”
she whispered.
“You will always have a home here,” he said.
Her shaky smile widened as the blonde vampire stepped
into the room. “Spike,” she whispered.
Spike stepped forward and enveloped her in a bear hug.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” he whispered into her
hair.
“Me, too.” With a deep breath Willow inhaled his
scent as she did every time she saw him.
“Well, I must be on my way,” Dr. Piel said.
Willow hurried over to him only slightly panicked.
“You’re leaving?” she asked.
The doctor took her shaking hands in his own. “You
are going to be just fine, Willow. You are surrounded
by people who love and care for you. You also have
all my numbers if you really need me. Okay?”
“Okay. I’ll be fine,” she said more to herself than
her shrink. She watched him leave. Taking a deep
breath she turned to the others. “So. Um, which room
is mine?”
Angel recognized her nervousness. “You can have any
room you want,” he said. “Spike can give you a tour
while Cordy, Wes, and I finish some paperwork.”
“What paperwork?” Cordy asked as Angel grabbed her
elbow and escorted her behind the front desk.
Spike lead Willow to the elevator. “Are you okay?” he
asked.
The slight red head scratched at the back of her hand.
“I’m fine.”
He knew she wasn’t as fine as she wanted to believe.
When the doors opened he didn’t say a word as moved
down the corridor to a suite of rooms Angel had
prepared for her. “Angel and I fixed these rooms up
for you. If you don’t like them, you can pick
something else,” he said.
Willow stepped into the living room area. It was
brightly lit and well decorated. “Cordelia help with
the decorating?” she asked.
“Yeah. How did you know?” he asked.
“Well, there are colors and everything matches,” she
said with a grin. Quietly, she searched the other
rooms. They had given her a bedroom to the right and
a study off to the left. “This is really nice,”
Willow said. “So where’s your room?”
Spike paused for a moment. “It’s down the hall. Room
255.”
“Okay. Would it be alright if I take a nap? All this
excitement has made me tired.” She stared up into his
blue eyes.
He brushed his thumb across her cheek. “Of course,
pet. Feel free to poke around when you get up. We’ll
probably be downstairs,” he said. Spike dropped a
kiss on her forehead and closed the door behind him.
With a shutter, Willow released the breath she’d been
holding. She wiped her damp palms against her jeans.
Quickly, the red head picked up her suitcase and
entered her bedroom. She unzipped the case and pulled
out a cell phone. She dialed a number and waited for
the other end to pick up. “Yeah, it’s me. They
bought it. They think I’m her.”
Part 2
Willow tried to swallow passed the dust ball in her
throat. Her shoulders burned from the awkward
position in which they were bound behind her.
“Welcome back to the land of the living,” a cool voice
said from behind her.
She tried to turn her head, but she’d been in the same
position too long and her muscles refused to move.
Her eyes focused on the $500 pair of Italian leather
pumps in front of her. Her gaze slowly moved up over
the shapely legs and expensive business suit.
Finally, she reached the woman’s face. Her make-up was
flawless and every hair in place.
“My name is Lilah Morgan, Ms. Rosenberg. You are
currently a guest at Wolfram & Hart,” she said as she
leaned her hip against a side table. The gag
prevented Willow from speaking. “Oh, I’m terribly
sorry about that gag. Now if you promise not to
scream, I’ll remove it.”
Willow nodded her agreement. Once the cotton cloth
was removed from her jaws, the red head slowly worked
out the stiff joints. “Water,” she croaked.
“Please?”
Lilah smiled at the young woman. “Certainly.” She
poured the requested refreshment in a glass and held
it to Willow’s lips. Willow gulped the cool liquid
to refresh her parched throat. “Careful. We don’t
want you to choke,” Lilah reminded her.
She slowed down her gulps and finally drained the
glass. “My arms hurt,” she said quietly.
The brunette set the empty glass on the tray. “Now
you wouldn’t be tricking me into releasing you, would
you?” she teased with a smile.
Willow stared at her wearily. *Of course I want you to
release me. You twit,* Willow thought. “My arms hurt
and my hands have fallen asleep,” she said. “You can
tie my arms in front of my body, if you want.”
Lilah pulled a knife out of her desk drawer and a roll
of duct tape. Carefully, she cut through the tape
binding Willow’s wrists. The red head groaned in pain
as she slowly brought her arms forward. Lilah kept
her brown eyes focused on her movements.
She rubbed her aching wrists. “So what exactly do you
want me for?” she asked.
“You expect me to tell you our plan?” she asked.
“You’ve kidnapped me. I have no idea where I am and
frankly couldn’t find my way around the city with a
map,” Willow snapped.
“I told you. You are a guest of Wolfram & Hart.”
“A guest, huh? I’d hate to see how you treat your
enemies,” she muttered.
“That’s enough,” Lilah said as she pulled a strip of
tape from the roll. “Put out your hands.”
Reluctantly, Willow held out her hands and waited for
the woman to tie her up again. When the tape touched
her skin, she balled her hands into fists and thrust
them into Lilah’s stomach. Unprepared for the attack,
she fell backwards. She tried to catch herself, but
Willow kicked her legs out from underneath her. In a
flash, Willow jumped on top of the woman and began to
pound her fists into her face. Lilah may have had a
black belt in Tae Kwon Do, but Willow spent two years
in mental institution, fighting with crazy people.
The office door burst open and two strong hands
grabbed her flailing arms. Willow struggled against
their grip. Holland Manners, senior partner at
Wolfram & Hart, stepped into the room and closed the
door behind him. He glanced momentarily at the
unconscious form of Lilah Morgan on the floor. He
removed a suringe from his coat pocket. He nodded at
the two bulky security guards to hold her tight as he
grabbed her arm. “Now, Ms. Rosenberg, you could have
made this a whole lot easier on yourself,” he said as
he slid the needle into her vein.
Willow felt the prick of the needle and screamed for
all she was worth. In the sound proof office, the
guards let her scream all she wanted. Slowly, she
began to feel the effects of the sedative he’d
injected into her system start to take effect. “You
fucking bastard,” she slurred.
“Yes, I know,” Holland said as he watched her fall
into unconsciousness. He waived one of the guards to
take her out of the room. “Take her to the secure
room in the basement,” he ordered. He turned to the
remaining guard. “You’d better get Ms. Morgan to the
hospital. She was in a terrible car accident,” he
said before leaving the room.
****
Angel glanced up from his book. Spike paced in front
of his desk. “Spike, knock it off and tell me what’s
wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Spike said as he finally took a
seat across from Angel. “I don’t know. Something’s
just not right.”
“What do you mean?” Angel asked.
“With Willow. Something just seems off. I can’t
explain it,” Spike said.
“A lot has happened to her, Spike. You can’t expect
her to be the same perky Willow we used to know.”
The bleach blonde rolled his eyes. “You think I don’t
know that? I’ve visited her every week for the last
six months. I know that she’d changed, but it’s just
something odd. I really can’t say what it is.” With
a frustrated grunt, Spike propped his feet up on
Angel’s desk.
The dark vampire glared at the bulky boots, but let it
slide. “I’m sure it’s nothing, Spike. She’s probably
just nervous about being out in the real world finally
and giving off strange vibes.”
“You’re probably right.”
****
Lindsey quickly ducked behind a corner as Holland
escorted the security guard carrying the unconscious
red head out of Lilah’s office. His eyes widened when
he saw another guard carry a bloody Lilah in the other
direction, towards the hidden exits to the building.
*What the hell is going on?* he asked himself. Even
knowing he would be terminated, literally, the young
lawyer couldn’t resist following his boss discretely
to find out what the situation was.
Once they had reached the basement levels, he hugged
the wall as he watched Holland key in a passcode to a
secure room. Lindsey knew this room was reserved for
only the most dangerous or valuable possessions owned
by Wolfram and Hart. *What could be so dangerous
about a skinny little red head?* he wondered. *Or so
valuable?*
“I want a Progothian demon guarding the door,” Holland
told the guard as the door opened.
“Progothian demon detect vampires. Angel,” Lindsey
reasoned as he slipped back up to his office. He
would just have to wait and see what Holland had
planned for the ensouled vampire.
Part 3
“Willow?”
“Huh?” the red head asked, looking up.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m fine. Why do you ask?”
Dr. Peil glanced at her hands. “Because you keep
scratching your hand,” he said.
She glanced down at her absent-minded movements.
Deliberately, she moved her hands apart and rested
them on the armrest of her chair. “Sorry. I guess I
got a bug bite or something.”
Dr. Peil smiled at her gently. “Are you sure it’s not
just a nervous reaction?” he asked.
Willow’s green eyes darted around the room. “Nervous?
What do I have to be nervous about?”
“Willow, this is our first session since you returned
home,” he explained. As he spoke, the doctor made
some casual notes in his file. “It’s perfectly normal
to be nervous. Sometimes that manifests itself in
absent-minded...ticks...or habits. Perhaps you’d like
a cigarette.”
“I don’t smoke.”
He raised his eyes from his papers. “Really? When
did you quit?”
Willow returned her full attention to the man in front
of her. “Huh?”
“When did you quit smoking?” Dr. Peil asked again.
She paused for a split second. “Well...um...you
know...I’m _trying_ to...you know...quit. Maybe
that’s where the scratching came from. Nicotine
withdrawal,” she stuttered. “And I hear it’s bad for
you. Smoking that is.”
“So I’ve heard,” he chuckled. “Well, good for you.
Let me know if you need any help with that. After two
years of two packs a day, it can’t be easy.”
Willow picked invisible lint off her jeans. “I’m
doing okay. Just taking it one day at a time.”
“So how is everything going?” he asked.
“Fine. I mean, it has been an adjustment and
everything, but I think I’m doing okay.”
“Good. Have you contacted your parents, yet?”
“Not yet. I’m planing on it. I miss them. They’re
really busy with work and everything.”
“So I understand. I’m sure they love you very much,”
he said.
Willow’s hands returned to their mindless scratching.
“Of course, they do. They’re my parents. Why
wouldn’t they love me?” she asked.
“No reason. What about Angel?”
“What about him?”
“How are things going with him? The two of you
getting along?”
“Sure.”
Dr. Peil leaned forward a bit. “Well, I know you had
some concerns about how he would react to you.”
“Oh, that. Yeah, we seem to be okay. We don’t talk
much, but then Angel is the strong silent type,
right?” she laughed. The laugh seemed a little
forced.
“Willow. You do know that the same rules apply here
as they did in the hospital. You can tell me anything
and it goes no further,” he said.
She nodded her understanding as she continued to
scratch her hand. Becoming aware of her actions, she
shoved her hands under her legs.
Knowing he wasn’t going to get anything else on that
front, he moved on to his next topic. “What about
Spike? How is your relationship with him?”
“Okay.”
“I’m going to take a stab in the dark here and say you
are generally okay,” he said.
“Yeah.”
“Okay. We still have forty-five minutes left in the
session. What do you want to talk about?” Dr. Piel
asked.
“I don’t know,” she answered.
*This is going no where fast,* he thought as he
continued to watch her.
****
She floated in haze of half thoughts. When she tried
to grab onto a solid thought it slipped effortlessly
through her fingers. Here she had no physical form.
It was a strange sensation to have no form, to consist
only of though. *Is this death?* she wondered. If it
was, it sucked so far. No, she knew she had a body
and that she was alive. She struggled to find
consciousness. Then she felt it. Her heart. It
raced against the wall of her chest. A heaviness
slipped through her. She had form, but no control
over that form. Her limbs were weighted. She could
tell where her fingers ended yet could not make them
move. The rasping sound of her breath filled her
ears. Panic began to over take her. She couldn’t
open her eyes. Why couldn’t she open her eyes? The
drugs! She was going to die. She didn’t want to die.
Not without telling him one last time she loved him.
She could feel her lids open a fraction. Vision
seemed like a new concept to her brain. Images
blurred and made no sense. She had to tell him. A
form began to take shape before her eyes. Now if she
could only make her lips form the words. *Please let
the words form,* she begged silently.
“I love you,” she whispered.
Lindsey smiled at the half conscious woman. “Thank
you, but we haven’t been properly introduced yet.”
Her eyes tried to focus on the man above her.
“Who...who are you?”
“Lindsey McDonald,” he introduced himself.
“Where am I?” she asked groggily.
“A secure room at Wolfram and Hart.”
“Why?”
“That is what I’d like to know, Miss Rosenberg.”
Part 4
Spike knocked on the door.
"Come in."
He poked his head around the door. "Doc?" He spotted
Dr. Peil gathering his notes from his session with
Willow.
"Spike. Can I help you?" the doctor asked.
The blonde vampire stepped into the room. "Not sure,"
he said as he wandered around the room. Spike picked
up one of the knick knacks Cordelia had placed on the
shelf.
Dr. Peil returned to his seat and watched the vampire
carefully. Something was definitely bothering him.
"Is this about Willow?" he asked.
"No," Spike protested. "Well, maybe." In frustration
he slumped down in the recliner. "Do you ever get the
feeling that something is wrong, but everything looks
alright?" he asked.
"Are you referring to the fact that the red head that
left this room is not Willow Rosenberg?" Dr. Peil
asked.
Spike glanced up sharply. "What?"
"Isn't that what you were referring to?"
With interested, he sat up and leaned forward. "How
do you know that she isn't Willow?"
Peil smiled. "Considering the amount of time I spent
with Willow in the last six months and being a trained
observer of human behavior, I think I would recognize
an impostor. Yes, she looks like Willow. Talks like
Willow. And I imagine she even smells like Willow,"
he said.
"Kind of," Spike confirmed. "The base scent is the
same," he muttered.
"The question is who is that woman and why is she
here," Peil said.
"No," Spike interrupted. "The question is where is
the real Willow?"
****
"Are you feeling better?" Lindsay asked.
Willow leaned against the wall as she sipped the glass
of water. "I still feel weird," she sighed. The
sedative Holland had injected into her body was
finally starting to wear off.
"The drug should be wearing off soon," he said.
She raised her green eyes. "You wouldn't happen to
have a cigarette would you?"
Lindsay patted his pockets. "Sorry. I don't smoke,
but I'll see what I can do."
Willow pushed a stray hair out of her face. "Do they
know you're here?"
"Who?"
"That bastard and the bitch."
He chuckled. "The bitch is actually in the hospital.
Recovering from a horrendous car accident."
"Oh, that's too bad," the red head said sarcastically.
"Yeah. They had to come up with some reason she
looked like she had the crap beat out of her."
Her eyes brightened at the realization she was the
cause of Lilah's misfortune. "What about the
bastard?"
"How do you know I'm not working for them?" Lindsay
asked.
She had to pause at that. To be honest, she didn't
know for certain. "Are you?"
"No."
"Okay, then."
"That's it? You're just going to believe me?" he
asked.
"Well, it's not like it would make any difference if
you were lying to me," Willow answered. She waved her
hand listlessly at the small room. "Doesn't look like
I'm going anywhere, does it?" As her brain cleared,
she studied the room a little more carefully. "What
is this place? An oubliette?"
"A what?"
"An oubliette. A place for forgetting. In the middle
ages, maybe even more recently, people would place
their prisoners in a small room with no light and no
hope of escape. Eventually the captors would forget
about them and the prisoner's would go insane."
"I have a feeling no one is going to forget that
you're here."
"Yeah, me."
****
Spike paced the room. "When did they switch her?" he
asked.
Dr. Peil shuffled through his notes. "It had to be
the night before she was released. We had a session
around 7PM. I left the hospital around 8 and arrived
the next morning around 7AM. I didn't notice
anything strange at the time. What does Angel think?"
Peil asked.
"The ponce hasn't seen Willow in over four or five
years," Spike explained. "I doubt he'd notice any
difference."
Peil watched Spike run his fingers through his blonde
hair. He noticed in the six months since the vampire
and Willow had been reunited Spike's hair had grown.
It always amazed him that a vampire, who was
technically dead, could grow hair. The ends tended to
curl around the collar of his shirt. "But who would
do this and why?"
Spike glanced up. "I don't know, but until we do, I
am not letting that bitch out of my sight," he growled
as he pointed towards the door.
"Maybe we should try to act as normal as possible.
She has to be in contact with the people who have
Willow. If she thinks we know she isn't the real
Willow, what's to prevent them from harming her?" Peil
asked.
Spike growled. Two fucking years to find her. Six
months of being in her presence. Now she was missing
again. He was _not_ a happy vampire.
****
"You never answered my question," Willow reminded him.
"I'm sorry. What question was that?" Lindsay asked as
he sat on the floor beside her.
"Do they know you're here?"
"Ah. Yes. Holland asked me to keep an eye on you
until you woke up," he said.
"And after I woke up?"
He thought about it for a moment. "You know he
didn't say what he wanted me to do after that."
"Very un-lawyer-like of him."
Lindsay laughed. "Very."
"I don't suppose you could take me some place?" Willow
asked hopefully.
"I probably could," he said. Her eyes lit up. "But
the guards outside the door would probably stop me."
Willow took another drink of water. "It figures."
"What figures?"
"The day before I get out of a mental hospital I'm
kidnapped and locked up again," she said. She tried
to shake the remainder of the drugs out of her head.
It was then she noticed his hands. "What happened?"
she asked as she touched the prosthetic hand.
"Long story."
"Got a few of those myself."
Lindsey glanced at his watch. "I need to leave now.
Is your head clearing?"
"Yeah." She watched him stand and move to the door.
"Could you do me a favor?"
"What brand?" he asked.
"Oh, anything is fine. But that isn't it."
"What then?"
"Could you get a message to a friend?" she asked.
"If I can," he answered. There was just something
about her that made him want to help.