Willow slowly disentangled herself from the black sheets, wiping her eyes all the while. She stood up, holding onto the carved bedpost for support.
She didn't really know what she had expected. In her tendency to be optimistic, she had probably just hoped that Angel would be okay and everything would go back to normal. Still, even if he hadn't been as good as new, she hadn't expected this.
She hadn't expected amnesia. "Okay, Angel, I guess we should try and figure out exactly what you do remember. You remember the curse, so I'm going to assume you haven't lost the years up till then. According to you, what year is it?" Angel wished desperately she wouldn't look so sad. She was so beautiful, and his heart broke looking at her weeping loveliness. "1996. Last night, it was 1996, and I was in Manhattan." '1996,' Willow thought. 'That was when I first met Buffy- and Angel.' "Well, Angel, let me give you a quick recap of your life. I could start in 1996, but I think you don't quite believe me, so beginning at the beginning of what I know might convince you. You grew up in Galway, Ireland. One night, a blonde and oh-so-skanky vampire named Darla turned you into one. You become one of the cruelest and most vicious monsters to ever plague Europe. At one point you met an innocent young Catholic girl named Drusilla. You killed her family, drove her mad, and made her into a vampire. Eventually, William the Bloody, later known as Spike, joined your family. Later, you killed a gypsy girl, and were punished by having your soul restored to you." Angel interrupted her. "How do you know all this?"
"Angel, I still know you, whether or not you-" her voice caught in her throat, and she felt new tears in the corners of her eyes. "whether or not you remember me." She took a deep breath and continued on. "I don't really know much about your years with a soul. The only thing you ever told me is that you spent your time 'feeling guilty' and 'honing your brooding skills'. In 1996, you came to Sunnydale, California, which is where you presently reside. You made the acquaintance of Buffy-" "Buffy? You keep saying that name. Who is that?" He could see Willow's fingernails digging into the flesh of her palm, and knew that he had asked the wrong question.
"Buffy Anne Summers, the Vampire Slayer. You kept pulling this mystery guy act with her- coming out of nowhere, warning her about random dangers, disappearing. She stopped the Master from rising..." "The Master? She stopped the Master?"
"Oh yeah, I forgot- he knew Darla, so he must have known you. Yeah, she stopped him. Anyway, you and Buffy had a serious flirtation going on for some time. I remember how jealous you were when she went out with Owen...not the point. One night, The Three came after her, you helped fight them, and you two took refuge in her house. You slept on the floor next to her bed. The next evening, when she came back from school, the two of you kissed, but in the process, you put your vampire face on. That was pretty scary. Giles, her watcher, looked you up, and told us about your past tendencies towards terror and mayhem." Angel reflected on how odd it was, having his own life told to him. She could give him a glimpse, but it was the Cliffs Notes version. He just wanted the unabridged original full-length novel. "The next night, she came home and found you there. You were holding her mom, wearing your face, and her mother had been almost drained. Darla had done it, but Buffy threw you out. Anyway, Buffy went hunting for you at the Bronze, a club where we all hang out a lot. She couldn't kill you, and you told her the curse story. Darla showed, shot you, and was about to shoot Buffy when you dusted her." Angel started. "I killed Darla?" Willow looked at him. "Yes, Angel, you did. I was there. She accused you of loving a Slayer, and being consequently sick. She was right about the first part. You and Buffy agreed not to see each other anymore, although you still helped the rest of us sometimes, without letting Buffy know. At the time of our sophomore prom, there was a prophecy that the Master would kill Buffy. He did, but you and Xander, Xander being the other original member of our group of friends, saved her. She had drowned, but Xander resuscitated her. She dusted the Master, Hellmouth didn't open."
"So Buffy- she's a great Slayer." Willow nodded. "The greatest." "And I...love her." "Oh yeah. To continue, that summer, Buffy went to stay with her dad. When she came back she acted like a b-i-t-c-h, but it was just her having issues with the Master. The anointed one tried to bring the Master back, Buffy stopped it. You and Buffy pretty much mended your relationship after we stopped some guys trying to pull a Frankenstein and make themselves a girl. Ummmmm, Spike and Drusilla came to town-" "Spike and Dru came to California? Here?"
"Oh yeah. Spike had this whole kill the Slayer thing. Anyway, at some point, Buffy found out about your past with Drusilla. You told her the details. Spike tried to do this strength restoration ritual with you and Dru, but Buffy saved you before it killed you. You healed, and you and Buffy were totally and unashamedly in love for a really short time. You gave Buffy a claddagh ring for her seventeenth birthday." "I did?"
"Yes- but you two were only happy together for a few hours after that." "Why?"
"You both almost got killed by the Judge, but escaped. As far as I can tell, you went back to your place, and one thing led to another..." "You mean we..."
"Yup. So here's the thing about your curse that you should probably know. There's a clause- if ever your soul stops being a thing of torment to you, even for a moment, you lose it. Well, basically, after one such moment with Buffy, your soul was gone, and you were Angelus again. Buffy stopped the Judge, you were back with Spike and Dru. I don't really want to tell you about what those months were like. Basically, you were evil beyond all expectations, plus you had personal vendettas against all of us. You killed a lot of people we didn't know, but the worst was when you killed Ms. Calendar. She was a gypsy, but never told anyone, so we didn't even talk to her once you had changed. Giles was in love with her, and when you killed her, you left her body in his bed. A while later, you found Acathla, the demon. You decided to suck the world into hell. Meanwhile, Spike was so sick of you that he decided to help Buffy stop you. I found out that the reason you had killed Ms. Calendar was because she had recovered the original curse to restore your soul. I found the spell, and decided to try it. The first time, Xander got his hand broken, I was put in the hospital in a coma, and Giles was captured. While you tried to torture the secrets of Acathla out of him, I woke up and decided to try the spell again. You figured out your mistake, Buffy came to stop you, Spike fought on her side, you woke up Acathla, fought with Buffy, and I restored your soul just as Acathla began to do his thing. She had no choice but to kiss you goodbye and send you to hell." "She sent me to hell?"
"She had no choice. Nevertheless, it destroyed her. She ran away, but came back after about three months. A few weeks after school started, you came back from hell somehow. She kept it secret for awhile, and took care of you by herself. We found out eventually, had spats, recovered, and that brings us up to the present- which is 1999." "So I'm not only missing three years of my life, but they would appear to be some of the most interesting years anyone could ever lose." "No, Angel, you'll get your memory back, I'm sure of it. I mean, amnesia can't last forever. You just- you need to see familiar faces and things. I'm sure that when you see Buffy, it will all come back to you." "Maybe. When will I meet- well, see her?" Willow rubbed her temples. "I don't know. She was called out of town by the Watcher's Council." Angel figured that if he remembered anything, he would be able to talk to this young woman, but awkward silence was looming. "So, Willow, tell me about yourself. Are we friends?" Willow looked at him again. She tried to answer, but her face crumpled. Before he knew what he was doing, Angel had pulled her into his arms and found himself stroking her fiery hair.
"Willow, I'm sorry. I know that my questions upset you. Please don't cry- you're too beautiful to cry." For some reason, that seemed to make her cry harder.
"Oh, Willow, I'll try to remember, I will. Please, we'll make it work out. Come on, look at the bright side. You'll never have to worry about whether or not you've told me jokes already. Here, tell me a joke." 'What on earth am I talking about?' Angel thought to himself. 'Tell me a joke?' Still, he knew that his real goal was only to make her stop crying. Willow sniffed.
"Okay. Um...Ask me if I'm an orange."
"Are you an orange?"
"No." He looked at her in confusion for a moment, then sputtered out a laugh.
"What?" Willow could hardly keep a straight face if he was laughing, and a giggle escaped her now smiling mouth.
'Oh, heavens,' Angel thought. 'What a face.' A thought suddenly entered his mind, sobering his expression. "Willow, I didn't bite you, did I?"
"Goodness, no. Why would you even ask that?" "Well, today is the first day in a long time that I haven't woken up hungry..."
"Angel, your blood is in the kitchen. Do you want breakfast? Can you walk, or should I bring it?"
"I think I can make it." The two of them headed for the door, where Angel hesitated. He was in Willow's way, so she couldn't move till he did.
"Are you going to stand there all day?" Angel knew it would bother her to hear him ask, but he had no choice. "Right or left?"
Fortunately, Willow had an irrepressible ability to bounce back from a crisis. As she pushed him in the direction of the kitchen, she sighed. "What on earth am I going to tell Buffy?"
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