Disclaimer: Let's see. Broke. Still working for a living. Not famous. Name not Joss Whedon. So that must mean that I don't own any of the characters that people recognise. More's the pity. Ahh well.
Spoilers: This was written about half way through season one ATS, so anything prior to that.
Authors Note: No malice is intended towards those that are mentally and physically disabled. I'd been watching 12 Monkeys and Patch Adams when this idea came to me. I know that these illnesses are debilitating and serious. Okay, now that I've got that understood (I hope) please R&R.
Ratings: Still PG
Chapter 2
"Fifteen minutes!" He cried, checking the big clock on the wall. "Somehow, fifty years went quicker than the last fifteen minutes!"
"What?" David asked from beside him. "Cave-man, you're talking stupid! How can you know how fast fifty years goes? I've been alive longer than you, and fifty years goes real slow, I can tell you. Why I remember thinking when I turned Fifty-five that I wished I was five again. I liked it when I was five-."
"Shut up Dave!" Sarah yelled from the other couch. "I'm trying to watch this!" John looked at the battle on the screen. White ants versus black ants. Never any different just after lunch. Richard ran by, hitting himself over the head. He paused in front of the TV, grinned at them, then ran on. John got up and started pacing back and forth. Another fifteen minutes, and Pretty Woman would be here with her friends. Richard ran past again, hitting him on the head this time.
"Hey! Bugger off, Richard!" He growled. Richard kept running, but turned back and poked his tongue out. "Real mature!" John applauded. Richard grinned. His eyes following Richard around the room, he noticed a movement from the reception area. He walked closer and noticed that Pretty Woman was there, with her friends. His heart sped up. He wondered if she'd kiss him again. It had hurt, but only for a second. And he liked it. Not the hurting bit, but the kissing bit. He grinned to himself. He was just like that River guy from Miss Betty's Days of our Lives. Always running around kissing people.
"You gonna play snap with us, Cave-man?" David asked from the table.
"No thanks, David. I've got some visitors to see." David shrugged and started to ineptly shuffle the cards. John turned back to see all three people bend over to sign the register and get their visitors badges. He watched as they passed the security badges over the panel in the door and came through. Pretty Woman first. He smiled. She was wearing a pretty blue top with black pants. She always wore pants, or high skirts. Just in case. He frowned. Just in case what?
"John!" Pretty Woman said, coming forward. Miss Del came forward, but John turned to her.
"It's okay, Miss Del. She was here yesterday. I'll take them over to the visitors area." Miss Del looked surprised, but nodded. He gestured with his head, and the visitors followed him. He sat down in one of the couches today, and the other three sat opposite him.
"John, do you remember who I am?" Pretty Woman asked.
"Sure. You're Pretty Woman." He frowned. "I think I should be calling you Buffy, though. Right?" Buffy nodded her head.
"These are my friends, Giles and Willow." He grinned suddenly, then started laughing.
"What's so funny, A- ah, John?" The man called Giles asked in a funny accent.
"Willow! That's like Leaf and River from the TV show. You don't know them, do you?" He asked her.
"Ah...no. I don't know any Leaf or River." She had pretty red hair, and wore lots of bright clothes. Again the explosion inside his head, but this time it didn't hurt quite as much, and after the noise had died down, he remembered some stuff from before. He frowned at the English Librarian.
"Where's your jacket?" He asked. Giles frowned.
"I didn't bring a jacket in. It's warm out."
"But you always wear your tweed jacket!" He objected. The others froze for a moment.
"John?" Buffy asked him, touching his hand. He looked at her, seeing something flash in her eyes, but he didn't understand.
"He used to wear tweed, didn't he?" He asked her. She nodded. He'd been right. He'd remembered something else from before.
"You're English! Like Maxwell Sheffield!"
"Well, not quite." Giles looked from Buffy to him and back again.
"But you have an accent like his."
"He's english, A...ah, John." Willow spoke up, putting a hand on Giles arm. John sat back, content to be right. He sat watching Pretty Woman for a while, not noticing that the others were watching him just as closely.
"You're not as sad as yesterday." He noted, making them jump slightly. Buffy looked at him, baffled for a moment, then realised that he was commenting on her tears.
"No, John, I'm not. How about you? Does your head still hurt?" She asked, remembering his complaint yesterday.
"It didn't before, but it does now. Not as much as yesterday, though." He sat for a moment, thinking. Then he looked slowly from one to the other.
"You all knew me from before here, didn't you?" He asked them quietly. They all nodded slowly. He absorbed that knowledge slowly, then looked at Buffy.
"My name isn't John, is it?" He asked her. She shook her head no. "What is it?" He asked them.
"Angel." Buffy said quietly. It had a sound to it, as though she'd said that name many times before.
"Angel? My name is Angel?" He smiled, looking at Willow. "And I thought your name was unusual. Is that it? What about my last name?" An uncomfortable silence followed that question. He looked at all three of them, smiling. "What, I don't have a last name? What, am I a pop star or something?"
"No, it's just that we always knew you as Angel. You never needed a second name."
"Like a popstar." Willow told him, smiling gently. He grinned, pleased.
"You were my friends?" They all nodded. "What about my Mother? Father? Do I have any brothers or sisters." There was a long silence.
"You did, a long time ago. They died in an accident." Buffy told him softly.
"I don't have any family?" He asked her. She shook her head.
"But...we're your family, Angel. Really, we are. We've been your family for lots of years now." Willow piped up, her voice breathy.
"So, Angel. What have you been doing today?" Giles asked, distracting him.
"Me? I've been helping clean up the room. And then I helped with the lunch. We had peaches for dessert. Then I watched the battle with Miss Betty."
"Battle?" Willow asked.
"White ants versus black ones. Miss Betty likes to watch it. I think it's just fuzz on the screen. Then I waited for you to come."
"How long have you been here?" Giles asked after looking at Willow.
"For ever. Well, for as long as I can remember, anyway. It was cold when I came here, and there was snow on the ground."
"There isn't now." Willow pointed out.
"No. It must have been a long time." He looked out at the blue sky. A nurse came up to them, and they looked up at her.
"John, it's time for your visitor's to leave." The way she said it left no room for argument. He stood up with the others, following them silently to the door. They turned back to him when they reached it.
"Well, Angel. We will see you soon." Giles told him. Willow just smiled and waved. Buffy held back, waiting for them to leave.
"I'll come back tomorrow, but by myself again. If that's okay with you?" He nodded eagerly. Their visits were the highlight of his stay here, and he was thinking so much clearer than before. He could remember things for more than an hour or two. And he felt better when he knew he was going to get visitors. Or maybe, just one visitor in particular. She turned to leave, but his hand on her arm stopped her. She turned back, looking up at him. He hesitated.
"Can I?" He asked, then leant forward and brushed her lips quickly. It hurt. Again. But he was expecting that, and had braced for it. It was also nice. He noticed that it left her speechless, which he thought was funny. She turned and walked outside the room, closing the security door behind her. She walked away without looking back, dropping the security pass on her way. Angel watched her go, a hand to his head.
His dreams that night were very unusual. It was like watching an old movie. Lots of women in big dresses, frilly bouncy skirts. Guys in tights and long hair, with funny accents. And blood. A lot of blood. He woke, sweating, the sheets soaked. The other beds around him were quiet, their occupants sleeping the sleep of the untroubled. He lay there for a long time, his head throbbing with images, his eyes glowing in the dark room.
Spoilers: This was written about half way through season one ATS, so anything prior to that.
Authors Note: No malice is intended towards those that are mentally and physically disabled. I'd been watching 12 Monkeys and Patch Adams when this idea came to me. I know that these illnesses are debilitating and serious. Okay, now that I've got that understood (I hope) please R&R.
Ratings: Still PG
Chapter 2
"Fifteen minutes!" He cried, checking the big clock on the wall. "Somehow, fifty years went quicker than the last fifteen minutes!"
"What?" David asked from beside him. "Cave-man, you're talking stupid! How can you know how fast fifty years goes? I've been alive longer than you, and fifty years goes real slow, I can tell you. Why I remember thinking when I turned Fifty-five that I wished I was five again. I liked it when I was five-."
"Shut up Dave!" Sarah yelled from the other couch. "I'm trying to watch this!" John looked at the battle on the screen. White ants versus black ants. Never any different just after lunch. Richard ran by, hitting himself over the head. He paused in front of the TV, grinned at them, then ran on. John got up and started pacing back and forth. Another fifteen minutes, and Pretty Woman would be here with her friends. Richard ran past again, hitting him on the head this time.
"Hey! Bugger off, Richard!" He growled. Richard kept running, but turned back and poked his tongue out. "Real mature!" John applauded. Richard grinned. His eyes following Richard around the room, he noticed a movement from the reception area. He walked closer and noticed that Pretty Woman was there, with her friends. His heart sped up. He wondered if she'd kiss him again. It had hurt, but only for a second. And he liked it. Not the hurting bit, but the kissing bit. He grinned to himself. He was just like that River guy from Miss Betty's Days of our Lives. Always running around kissing people.
"You gonna play snap with us, Cave-man?" David asked from the table.
"No thanks, David. I've got some visitors to see." David shrugged and started to ineptly shuffle the cards. John turned back to see all three people bend over to sign the register and get their visitors badges. He watched as they passed the security badges over the panel in the door and came through. Pretty Woman first. He smiled. She was wearing a pretty blue top with black pants. She always wore pants, or high skirts. Just in case. He frowned. Just in case what?
"John!" Pretty Woman said, coming forward. Miss Del came forward, but John turned to her.
"It's okay, Miss Del. She was here yesterday. I'll take them over to the visitors area." Miss Del looked surprised, but nodded. He gestured with his head, and the visitors followed him. He sat down in one of the couches today, and the other three sat opposite him.
"John, do you remember who I am?" Pretty Woman asked.
"Sure. You're Pretty Woman." He frowned. "I think I should be calling you Buffy, though. Right?" Buffy nodded her head.
"These are my friends, Giles and Willow." He grinned suddenly, then started laughing.
"What's so funny, A- ah, John?" The man called Giles asked in a funny accent.
"Willow! That's like Leaf and River from the TV show. You don't know them, do you?" He asked her.
"Ah...no. I don't know any Leaf or River." She had pretty red hair, and wore lots of bright clothes. Again the explosion inside his head, but this time it didn't hurt quite as much, and after the noise had died down, he remembered some stuff from before. He frowned at the English Librarian.
"Where's your jacket?" He asked. Giles frowned.
"I didn't bring a jacket in. It's warm out."
"But you always wear your tweed jacket!" He objected. The others froze for a moment.
"John?" Buffy asked him, touching his hand. He looked at her, seeing something flash in her eyes, but he didn't understand.
"He used to wear tweed, didn't he?" He asked her. She nodded. He'd been right. He'd remembered something else from before.
"You're English! Like Maxwell Sheffield!"
"Well, not quite." Giles looked from Buffy to him and back again.
"But you have an accent like his."
"He's english, A...ah, John." Willow spoke up, putting a hand on Giles arm. John sat back, content to be right. He sat watching Pretty Woman for a while, not noticing that the others were watching him just as closely.
"You're not as sad as yesterday." He noted, making them jump slightly. Buffy looked at him, baffled for a moment, then realised that he was commenting on her tears.
"No, John, I'm not. How about you? Does your head still hurt?" She asked, remembering his complaint yesterday.
"It didn't before, but it does now. Not as much as yesterday, though." He sat for a moment, thinking. Then he looked slowly from one to the other.
"You all knew me from before here, didn't you?" He asked them quietly. They all nodded slowly. He absorbed that knowledge slowly, then looked at Buffy.
"My name isn't John, is it?" He asked her. She shook her head no. "What is it?" He asked them.
"Angel." Buffy said quietly. It had a sound to it, as though she'd said that name many times before.
"Angel? My name is Angel?" He smiled, looking at Willow. "And I thought your name was unusual. Is that it? What about my last name?" An uncomfortable silence followed that question. He looked at all three of them, smiling. "What, I don't have a last name? What, am I a pop star or something?"
"No, it's just that we always knew you as Angel. You never needed a second name."
"Like a popstar." Willow told him, smiling gently. He grinned, pleased.
"You were my friends?" They all nodded. "What about my Mother? Father? Do I have any brothers or sisters." There was a long silence.
"You did, a long time ago. They died in an accident." Buffy told him softly.
"I don't have any family?" He asked her. She shook her head.
"But...we're your family, Angel. Really, we are. We've been your family for lots of years now." Willow piped up, her voice breathy.
"So, Angel. What have you been doing today?" Giles asked, distracting him.
"Me? I've been helping clean up the room. And then I helped with the lunch. We had peaches for dessert. Then I watched the battle with Miss Betty."
"Battle?" Willow asked.
"White ants versus black ones. Miss Betty likes to watch it. I think it's just fuzz on the screen. Then I waited for you to come."
"How long have you been here?" Giles asked after looking at Willow.
"For ever. Well, for as long as I can remember, anyway. It was cold when I came here, and there was snow on the ground."
"There isn't now." Willow pointed out.
"No. It must have been a long time." He looked out at the blue sky. A nurse came up to them, and they looked up at her.
"John, it's time for your visitor's to leave." The way she said it left no room for argument. He stood up with the others, following them silently to the door. They turned back to him when they reached it.
"Well, Angel. We will see you soon." Giles told him. Willow just smiled and waved. Buffy held back, waiting for them to leave.
"I'll come back tomorrow, but by myself again. If that's okay with you?" He nodded eagerly. Their visits were the highlight of his stay here, and he was thinking so much clearer than before. He could remember things for more than an hour or two. And he felt better when he knew he was going to get visitors. Or maybe, just one visitor in particular. She turned to leave, but his hand on her arm stopped her. She turned back, looking up at him. He hesitated.
"Can I?" He asked, then leant forward and brushed her lips quickly. It hurt. Again. But he was expecting that, and had braced for it. It was also nice. He noticed that it left her speechless, which he thought was funny. She turned and walked outside the room, closing the security door behind her. She walked away without looking back, dropping the security pass on her way. Angel watched her go, a hand to his head.
His dreams that night were very unusual. It was like watching an old movie. Lots of women in big dresses, frilly bouncy skirts. Guys in tights and long hair, with funny accents. And blood. A lot of blood. He woke, sweating, the sheets soaked. The other beds around him were quiet, their occupants sleeping the sleep of the untroubled. He lay there for a long time, his head throbbing with images, his eyes glowing in the dark room.
