“It’s me, damn it. Would you just pick up the phone? It’s daylight; I know you’re there.”
With a sigh of resignation, Angel left Willow alone in the room and went to talk to Cordelia.
“What do we know?”
The brunette sighed, and Angel could practically feel her frustration through the phone line.
“Nothing. Not a damn thing. I still can’t get in touch with anyone. I just called to see how she’s doing.”
“The same.”
“She won’t speak?”
“She won’t even look at me unless I try to touch her. And even then, she just looks through me. I don’t think she really sees me.”
“Look, why don’t I come by... I can stay with her. Maybe she’ll talk to me.”
“Has she talked to you yet?”
Cordelia sighed. “No, she hasn’t. But she doesn’t seem as afraid of me. Whatever happened to her... well, I’m not so sure that it was supernatural.” The girl paused, unsure of how to continue without freaking Angel out.
“What aren’t you saying, Cordelia?”
“She’s as scared of Doyle as she is of you. However, she’ll let me touch her. You two are male; I’m most definitely female. What do you think I’m saying?”
“Oh, God,” was all Angel could manage.
“How is she?”
Angel jumped slightly at Doyle’s question. He’d been so absorbed in his thoughts that he hadn’t even noticed the other man’s arrival. He sighed, then answered the half demon’s question.
“The same. Cordelia’s with her now.”
Doyle wearily rubbed a hand over his face. It hurt to see the girl like this, and he didn’t even know her. He couldn’t imagine how Angel and Cordelia must feel. “You haven’t reached anyone yet?”
The vampire shook his head.
“Not even her parents?”
Angel snorted. “Yeah, right. Her parents are probably off in Europe or something. They aren’t exactly attentive. What gets me is that no one else seems to be looking for her... not Buffy, Giles... no one.”
“Maybe that’s why we can’t get in touch with them. They’re looking for her.”
“It doesn’t explain why no one’s called me. I know I didn’t leave under the best of circumstances, but this is Willow. If they were looking for her, don’t you think they’d put aside differences long enough to find her? It’s not like they don’t know how to reach me. I gave Giles the number.”
“Maybe he lost it.”
Angel just glared at Doyle, then turned to the door as he heard Cordelia coming up the stairs.
“How is she?” Angel asked, a tension lending an edge to his voice.
“I got her to move off the couch, if that means anything.”
“Where is she now? Did she say anything?”
“A big no to the speaking. She’s asleep now. In your bed, actually, which means you’re Couch Man tonight.”
Angel nodded. Movement. Movement was good. The only time she’d left the couch in the past two days was to go to the bathroom, so going to his bed and sleeping was a good sign. Hell, he’d sleep outside if it meant Willow would show some improvement.
The screaming woke him up. At first he thought it was just an after effect of a dream; after regaining his soul, he’d had nightmares about his victims so often that sometimes it had been difficult to gage where a dream ended and reality began. The dreams had stopped when he’d gone to Sunnydale to start helping the Slayer, but Willow’s condition had caused them to resurface. After a moment, however, he realized it wasn’t a dream.
It was Willow.
Angel jumped off his couch and ran to his bedroom. The tiny redhead was tossing and turning in her sleep, and tears were rolling down her face as she cried out. Angel’s silent heart broke at the sight. With tears in his own eyes, the vampire reached out to wake the girl up. Willow lashed out when Angel touched her, but he managed to get a hold of her and shake her awake. The redhead’s eyes flew open, and, for the first time since he had found her, there was clarity in them. Instead of looking through him, she was looking at him, shock evident on her face. After staring at him for what had to be the longest moment of his unlife, the girl threw herself in his arms, sobbing uncontrollably.
He was holding her. After more than two days of her flinching away whenever he even attempted to touch her, she had sought out his embrace. Granted, she was hysterical, but she had still willingly allowed him to touch her. He pulled her closer, trying to comfort her, but not sure how to do it. She was so fragile; he had always thought of her that way. She was someone who needed to be protected. He cursed himself for not being there to protect her from whatever it was that had seemingly broken her. Carefully, without releasing her, Angel climbed into bed with Willow and lay back against the pillows. He cradled the girl in his arms and began rubbing his hand up and down her back in a soothing motion, hoping to calm her down. Her ragged sobs shook her shoulders, and Angel was worried that Willow would cry herself sick. Gradually, however, the redhead’s sobs died down until they were no more than whimpers, and, eventually, Angel felt her breathing even out into the slow, deep breathing of sleep. Angel released a sigh of relief and cuddled the tiny girl even closer, wondering just what was going to happen next.