Title: Shadow of Dreams Part 2
Name: Anastasia
Email: Charlie1@acay.com.au
Rating: R
Classification: Willow/Angel
Disclaimer: I own none, Joss does. I just borrowed a facsimile of them to play with and for public humiliation!
Feedback: Would be appreciated.
Authors Notes: This is a story started months ago and thanks to two wonderful people, Robin and Darkgem, it has been worked on again. See what you get if you nag me?
***
Angel leant back in the chair, closing his eyes. The scene at the club replayed through his mind. Her words, her actions, her hair, everything. It left him feeling sick. To think that Willow could have changed so much in such a short period of time. Perhaps more so, to think that whatever was happening, she was totally alone. Angel knew what that was like; he had nearly a century of suffering, completely devoid of any support. He opened his eyes, no longer wanting to see the painfully vivid image of despair and his thoughts fell once more to the name of the Hotel. Picking up the phone he dialed information and then the number. An undeniably perk female voice answered, brightly announcing the name of both the hotel and herself.
"Hi, this is James Harlow from the Blaze Club." Angel said, pausing to consider how to get the information he needed. "We had one of your guests leave her wallet here, a red-headed girl..."
Before Angel could even think up a plausible excuse as to why he didn't know a name the receptionist willingly supplied all the information he needed.
"Oh, that would be Jenny in room 28. She's the only redhead here. So quiet though, I wouldn't have thought Blaze would be her type of thing. But you know what they say - it's always the quiet ones! I can put you through to her room if you like?"
"No. That's okay. I just need her details so we can send her wallet over in the morning...unless she is only staying there for the night?" Angel was suddenly relieved to find a receptionist in LA who didn't mind giving out information.
"Oh no, she'll be here. She's paid up until next Tuesday, so I can't imagine her going anywhere. And it's not like she'll need her wallet - she never goes out during the day, stays in her room. I guess she's a bit of a night creature." The receptionist laughed down the line.
"So it's Jenny room 28?" Angel checked the information.
"That's her!" the receptionist cheerily replied.
"Well, thank you for your help." Angel didn't even wait for a reply before he dropped the hand piece back down.
'Night creature', that comment hit a raw nerve. Angel knew that there was no possibility that she had been turned. He had clearly heard a heart beat, heard her breathing. Glancing at the clock, he reasoned the sun would be up soon and that no more could be done that night. He wrote a brief note to Doyle leaving explicit instructions to call every doctor in Sunnydale regarding Willow Rosenberg, but under no circumstances was he to involve Cordelia. As he read over the note he wondered if there could be a medical reason for Willows situation. At this point of time he was open to all possibilities.
Dropping the note off at Doyle's office, Angel made his way up to his apartment above the office. Flipping on the stereo for a distraction of his thoughts, Angel went through his routine of feeding and then showering before retiring for his rest. Rest seemed to be the last thing he could get. Angel spent the time tossing, trying to get comfortable. The small amount of time he spent sleeping he dreamt of Willow. Holding out her hands begging for him to help her, but she stayed elusively just out of his reach until she was consumed by a blackness, her scream waking him, letting him return to his tossing.
***
"Anything Doyle?" Angel looked at him, hoping there was something.
"Dr Jacobs, prescribed sleeping pills. Anxiety induced insomnia. That's it." Doyle handed Angel a facsimile of the information. Angel scanned it quickly, looking for anything that could have been missed. There was nothing.
"Damn it!" Angel swore softly in his frustration.
"So," Doyle sat down. "You going to tell me what's going on?"
"I can't tell you anything because I don't know anything." Angel passed a hand over his eyes, rubbing at his forehead. It was another hour before he could go out and look for her. Even if he found her, he didn't know exactly what he was going to do. He looked up to see Doyle staring intently at him. "Willow is a friend...she needs help."
"How do you know that?" Doyle asked calmly. Angel grimaced and told him briefly of the previous nights events.
"And if she doesn't want your help?" Doyle questioned. Angel stared at him; he had never even considered that to be a question. The look on Angels face was enough for Doyle to know to stay out of it. Getting out of the chair he made to leave. "Okay, I've got things to do."
"Thanks," Angel acknowledged as he reached the door. Another hour, it seemed a lifetime.
***
Angel had been standing outside the hotel for close to two hours. He had searched the clubs and cafes in the surrounding area without finding any sign of Willow. This was his last possibility; there was the chance she hadn't left her room yet. He turned to walk back up the street when he saw her walk through the doors of the hotel and out into the street. Relief washed over him. There was no question in his mind that this was Willow. He fell into step behind her, unsure of what to do now.
Angel watched her. She was wearing the same outfit as the previous night. It was almost painful to watch. Her hands and other exposed skin were as white as bleached bone. Her hair still hung in strands and she appeared to be totally oblivious to what was happening around her. She seemed so tiny, so fragile, and so very alone.
"Willow," Angel spoke softly, barely two steps behind her. At the sound of his voice she stopped, her head snapped up and he could see her shoulders tense. He stepped forward and called her name again. "Willow?"
Her breath was coming faster and she turned her head slightly. Angel was relieved, she recognized his voice. That was a start. She swung around to face him; her features set in a twisted grimace.
"Well, here you are. I was wondering where you got to." Willow's words shocked Angel. "You've been so quiet...I almost missed you. And you offer so much to miss, don't you?" a smile quivered on her lips. Angels brow furrowed, trying to take in what she was saying. "I mean where would I be without your loving support? Your encouraging words? Your razor sharp wit? Where would I be Angel? Are you here to tell me it's alright, to offer your comfort? To open your arms once you've made me face the reality of my life...only to laugh at me when I..."
She stopped her speech, looking at him with sheer hatred. It was the intensity of that hatred which alarmed Angel. Never had he seen so much anger and pain in those green eyes, confusion and anguish.
"Willow, I..." he didn't know what to say. He wasn't sure what she was saying.
"You can just go to Hell." spat Willow bringing her hand up and slapping Angel hard across the face. The crack of her hand on his flesh seem to reverberate around the alley. Willow stepped back, her eyes wide in panic. She stared at him for the briefest of moments and then looked down at her now flaming red hand.
"Willow," for the first time Angel reached out and lightly took her arm, trying to read her face through the mask of shock.
"Angel?" Willow kept staring at her hand, swaying on her feet slightly. It was almost like she had been the one to be slapped. She looked back up into Angels eyes. "No, no, no! You aren't real! You can't be!"
Before he could even answer she began to desperately fight against his hold on her arm, causing him to grip her other arm. A scream of pain left her lips as she lashed out at him, using her nails, feet and teeth. She was like a wild animal in a cage.
"Willow," Angel almost bellowed her name as he attempted to still her flaying body. She managed to free one of her arms and threw herself bodily at Angel knocking him slightly off balance. It was enough for Willow to break free and turn to run.
"Willow!" Angel launched himself and caught her wrist, spinning her back around.
"No, please no." she begged, her eyes full of unshed tears. She scrambled back from him as far as she could, twisting her wrist trying to gain her freedom. Angel stared at her, shock plainly visible on his face. He could feel the skin on her wrist start to tear under his grasp as she continued to struggle. Angels mind spun, if he let her go she would run, if he didn't let her go she was going to hurt herself.
"I'm so sorry Willow," he whispered to her as he bought his free hand up to her throat and squeezed.