-Mother-
Summary: Connor dreams of a familiar blonde woman. Connor's POV.
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and his affiliates own Angel: the Series and it's characters. "I'm no one."
Spoilers/Setting: Post-"Home" (Season Four Finale)
Author's Note: Super short and written at near two a.m. I hope you like it. Thank you to my beta Elenlor Edhelen for correcting my early morning errors. Oh, readers: review, please?
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In my dreams, there's always a woman there. Blonde hair, sickly sweet voice. She's so familiar, and for a moment, I know who she is – what she is.
When I wake up, I can never remember what she told me in the dream – but I know it was important, all I get is one word she calls me – a name: Connor. It sounds right, but my name is Steven. I don't think that it isn't my name though, not when she says it. I have to know her, right? She always says something different – does something different – and it is so comforting to look at her, listen to her, wait to see what she does. I feel like I'm home...even if it's only in my dreams.
Who is she? It's like she's someone from a past life, but I see her so clearly in my mind...even while I'm awake. Her smile – it contains something sinister in it I can't place, but it makes me feel a fleeting moment of happiness. I know she's there just for me, to make me think that there's no pain in my life – to make me stronger. I know she loves me – unconditionally – and I don't know why. I've memorized how she looks by now, after all these years of seeing her in my dreams it would be a crime to not have.
When I was four, I remember asking my father who she was and he told me that it was probably a woman I had seen outside or on television – but I knew I hadn't. Now that I think of that memory, it seems so surreal, but maybe I'm just going crazy or something. I once thought I saw her walking down a street in L.A. a of couple years ago, but when I tried to take a second glance, she was gone.
Gone. It was like when my dreams start: The blonde woman is in the backseat of a car with a pregnancy-swollen belly, there are others there – they're just blurs around her. Then it gets really odd. She takes a sharp piece of wood and slams it into her chest, I used to always expect her to lie there bleeding when I was younger, but she turns to dust and is gone – the baby is left there in the car. It confuses me a bit, but it feels like I was there. I don't know why she turns to dust before she appears to me – all cleaned up and fresh – and in her eyes it seems like she's apologizing, like she didn't want me to have to see that every night. Maybe it has to be shown though, maybe it's what tells me to not search for her – that she's already gone.
Her eyes, they're sky-blue and tell me everything. They tell me that she's sorry, that she wishes she was here with me...instead of being there just telling me all these things I won't remember. I don't want to wake up. As long as she's in my dreams, I'll fight to continue my haven in sleep. I feel unconsciousness sneaking up on me now and I shut my eyes tightly. I love you, mother.