A/N: Welp, here you go. It's annoyingly short and all that, but oh well. AND in case you wanted to know, I just downloaded the episode of Law and Order: SVU that Wilson's in off iTunes, and it is AMAZING. He's adorable in it (the hair's a little weird, but it IS Wilson) and he does a magnificent acting job. I just kept wanting to hug him because he looked so damn sad...and yet so damn adorable at the same time. If you want to get it, it's the 1st season and it's called "Nocturne."
"Maureen!"
Joanne's shout rang out behind her as Maureen fled from the room, her head down and her hands rubbing the tears away from her cheeks. She could see the screen in her mind and it burned her like a lick of flame. Angel…god, why the hell did she have to do that? Why'd she have to be so…Maureen couldn't complete the thought. All she knew was that she had to run away from Angel; maybe it meant running from Roxy and Jon and Joanne and everyone else, but she had to run.
It had been that moment when Angel winked at the camera. Right before she started talking again, she'd winked. And it hurt so much; it was so undeniably Angel that Maureen couldn't stand it. She couldn't remember, not after fighting the memories for so many years. It had been hard enough to look at her own daughter and see a baby who looked more like Angel each day. That was spooky as well; and Maureen, despite having always believed that religion was "for people with too much time on their hands", had a feeling that someone was having a pretty sick joke on her behalf.
When she finally stopped running, her surroundings resolved themselves into a familiar setting: Tompkins Square Park, the middle ground between Angel's apartment and the loft. Maureen reeled and dropped onto a bench as she remembered that day years ago, when Angel and Mimi had switched her and Joanne around into getting back together in this very park. She flashed backwards in time, recalling the bags under Angel and Mimi's eyes from three solid days of babysitting the two grown woman; the incredulous look on their faces when she and Joanne came down the path holding hands; the warmth of her congratulatory hug…Maureen didn't think she could have felt any more pathetic than she had when she'd run away, but now the tears rolling down her cheeks and the sobs in her throat convinced her otherwise.
"Fine, fine! I'll fucking tell her if you want!"
"It's not what we want, Mo. It's what you want."
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"You look amazing, honey. Your baby's gonna have such a pretty mama!"
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"Maureen, I think those kids of yours are miracle workers."
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Angel…
Screw you for doing this to me.
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Angel spoke. She smiled and played with the hospital blanket while she did it, but she spoke. No one could look away. No one could speak. No one could look away. And none of the adults weren't crying.
Collins had hardly blinked since the film began. He was crying, but the tears were silent; he was watching, but his eyes weren't wide. Roxy sat in his lap, her tiny hands resting on one of his while she stared up at the screen. He could feel her pulse thumping softly in the tips of her thumbs. It seemed to beat along with Angel's words.
The rest of them were enveloped in Angel. None of them had seen her like this since long before she'd gotten sick. None of them could bear to watch, yet they would never have forgiven themselves if they'd left. Maureen was the only one who'd run, and though Joanne called after her, they hadn't pursued her. She was hurting in her way, and they in theirs.
And Angel kept on speaking.