Chapter Five
A Knock on the Door

Between the time it took for Regan to ascend the stairs to her brother's loft and when she finally found herself standing in front of the doorway, she remembered her nightmare from the night before. It had progressed exactly like this from the moment she stepped inside the building. She had slowly approached the stairs with the same overwhelming feeling that she had just been catapulted over three and a half years into the past. Every fine, derelict detail of this place was etched into her memory, for Regan had been blessed with an oddly keen photographic memory. It had changed little since last she laid eyes upon it. It was almost like the building itself had been freeze-framed, locked in time since that cold November night.

She remembered how she had knocked on the door, jittery with a combination of nervous anticipation and dread. The door had slid open of its own accord to reveal her entire bohemian family all waiting inside for her. They had known she was coming, and they were all gathered together with bright grins of joy on their faces. They cheered in jubilation when she stepped inside, sending tears of joy, surprise, and relief streaming down her face. One by one, they each came forward to embrace her and tell her how happy they were she returned, and how much they had missed her. First Angel had hugged her. Then Collins came forward to swing her around much like Benny had done in reality just a half hour ago. Then Maureen hugged her. Then Benny. Mark had not only hugged her, he had kissed her on each cheek.

Then it was Roger's turn. Brother and sister had stood there, facing each other for an eternity it seemed before Roger stretched out his arms. Regan had eagerly leapt into that familiar embrace, sobbing and shaking with unbelievable joy.

Of course, this had been a nightmare. When it reached the point where Regan thought she could not have gotten any happier, it all went to hell, obviously. Her head had been lying on her brother's shoulder and he was rubbing her back in a comforting manner…right before morphing into vampire guise and clamping his teeth onto her exposed neck. She had screamed…and then promptly rolled off her sofa, hitting her head on the floor, thus waking her from the morbid dream.

Seriously, you're freaking over some dream that was totally allegorical…metaphorical…whatever the hell they call it. Obviously it isn't possible because it's daylight and you met Benny outside. Jesus, grow some balls, girl.

She was well aware of the implications of that dream in that it had been symbolic of her own internal worries and fears over reuniting with her brother. Yet, it took a few moments before she was able to shake off the emotions and memories her nightmare had evoked. Even before she had become a Slayer, bad dreams had been a common nightly visitor. They had been at their worst during the time right after her mother's death. Her memory of the day her mother was buried was scattered and hazy. She could recall only a few pieces here and there, which were disturbing enough. All Regan knew for sure was after that day, she and Roger had been on their own. However, nightmares in the months and years afterward had filled in those gaps in her memory in various, and often extremely frightening, ways.

Regan straightened herself up, shooing away the specters of the parts of her past she had no desire to revisit. She had made peace with that part of her life long ago. Had she not, she probably would have ended up killing herself. She certainly would have not been in the relatively healthy psychological condition she was in today.

Feeling as prepared as she was ever going to be, Regan rapped on the door.

Mimi looked up from the magazine she had been reading when she heard the knocks on the door. Normally, she would have let Roger answer the door, but he had just stepped into the shower. She took a few more sips of her tea before rising to answer the door. She took a few brief moments to make sure her robe was firmly tied, for she was actually quite nude underneath. The early spring weather had not yet lost its wintry bite; she, Mark, and Roger were taking advantage of the limitless supply of heat they were now entitled to. Without it, she would be bundled up to the point of a marshmallow if Roger had his way. He had gotten very paranoid and overprotective since her brush with the Reaper a few months ago. Mimi appreciated his concern. She even found it very cute and endearing. But, at times, indulging his worries made her feel like a child, and it got somewhat annoying.

Had she known she and Roger would have had such impromptu company on their day off, she would have taken the time to dress. Even Benny's visit had been a pleasant surprise…well, somewhat pleasant. He and Roger had let go of the issues between them for her sake. Still, the two men acted very cool around one another. Mark, Maureen, and Collins had warmed up to Benny in the past few months, especially since it was because of Benny that Angel had been able to receive a proper burial. And, of course, it was Benny's money that was paying for her rehab, though she had managed to argue her way back into a job as a dancer at the Cat Scratch Club. Roger had not been happy about that one, but he knew they could use the extra cash. After all, they could not hit up the ATM machine Collins had rigged all the time. They had strictly decided that was to be for emergencies only. Well, that and if they really needed liquor, which could be constituted as an emergency.

Having believed it to be Maureen, Joanne, or Collins, one can imagine the surprise on Mimi's face when she opened the door to reveal a young, dark-haired stranger. The girl looked to be in her early twenties, perhaps even as young as Mimi herself. Her pale, pretty face stared back at Mimi with an equal amount of surprise and confusion.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I think I may have gotten the wrong place," the young woman stammered apologetically. Mimi thought she detected a hint of disappointment in her voice.

It was then that Mimi noticed the girl's eyes. They were the same deep green color of her boyfriend's eyes—the eyes his younger sister had apparently also possessed. Oddly enough, they were tinged with redness and a little swollen, looking very much like the girl had been crying or had really bad allergy problems. She thought back to the old home movie she and Roger had watched only days before. An outlandish idea niggled at the outer fringes of her mind, begging for her full attention. The sane parts of her mind must have laughed it away, for it was just too bizarre to even begin to consider entirely. Still, the girl gave her an odd feeling.

"Okay, well, I'll just be going. Sorry to bother you, Ma'am," the girl said, plainly puzzled by the fact that Mimi had said nothing yet. She turned around and started walking back down the hallway towards the stairs.

Mimi watched her go while wondering about this strange sensation she was suddenly afflicted with. She shook her head in complete bafflement, easing the door shut. Halfway back to her previous activity, realization dawned on the young dancer and she gasped. She knew why that girl gave her such a weird feeling! She recognized her!

Those eyes…that voice…that face…oh my God…it is not possible! She instantly swung around and dashed back to the door, sliding it open and running down the hall. The girl was at the bottom of the stairs, about to disappear from sight.

"Wait!" Mimi cried out.

The girl stopped in her tracks, slowly turning to gaze questioningly at Mimi, quite possibly thinking her to be crazy. To be fair, Mimi supposed she did have some kind of desperate, mad look about her.

"Yes?" the girl asked.

Mimi took a deep breath, her eyes roving all over the girl. Though remarkably changed since the time Mark had filmed that home movie, there was no denying who that girl was. It was almost too bizarre to believe…no, it was too bizarre to believe. The fact that Mimi had just learned about the girl and watched the last film she had ever been recorded in only days before now just smacked of some kind of supernatural meddling. Of course, it was probably just some random, freakish coincidence. But still…the entire situation was just plain freaky to the dancer.

"Are you Regan Davis?" she asked breathlessly.

The girl's brow furrowed, making Mimi fear for a moment that she was horribly mistaken. "Yes, that's me. But, I don't—I'm sorry, do I know you?"

Mimi let out a half-laugh, half-breath of hysterical irony, lifting both her hands to cup her mouth. She allowed herself a few moments to absorb this shocking information. Regan Davis, the very same Regan Davis her boyfriend had been mourning over for years was standing before her, alive and looking…

Damn, she definitely did some developing over the past three years.

"You don't know me, but I know you…I mean, I don't know you know you, but I know of you…I mean, God," Mimi rapidly intoned before catching herself and slowing down. "I've seen you in home movies. Your sixteenth birthday party actually."

The girl—no, Regan—blinked with the same frozen frown of confusion on her face. It took a few moments before she seemed to understand what Mimi was talking about.

"You watched home movies of me? Where did you get them?" Regan asked suspiciously.

You moron, Mimi, you should have told her who you were first.

Mimi smiled nervously. "Well, I live with Roger and Mark in the loft. My name is Mimi Marquez and I'm…well…I'm your brother's girlfriend."

Regan seemed a bit taken aback at the news, but she seemed to relax all of a sudden. She pursed her lips, appearing to be in deep thought, before coming back up the stairs and approaching Mimi. With a genuine smile upon her face, Regan held a hand out to Mimi, saying, "Nice to meet you, Mimi."

The way she held her herself struck Mimi as incredibly strange for a girl who had been God only knew where for the past three years. She had entertained all sorts of possible stories for what had happened to Regan and where she was, had she been alive. Most, unfortunately, had been of overwhelmingly sad possibilities since the odds had definitely been nowhere near the girl's favor. But, by some twist of fortune, Regan had defied those odds and was here, dressed in moderately expensive clothing, looking like she had not only survived whatever ordeal she had gone through, but that she had also come out all the better for it.

With those intriguing thoughts on her mind, Mimi shook Regan's hand, saying to her, "You too."

Most people use their 18th birthday as a time to formally take up smoking (as opposed to the informal way they had done it while underage). Regan, ironically, had chosen to kick the habit on her 18th birthday, smoking her last cigarette on midnight of January 29, 2004. And since then she had kept to her vow no matter how much the cravings had tortured her.

Until now, that is.

She had sat down on the sofa in the loft, tapping her leg nervously while she and Mimi waited for her brother to get out of the shower. (She was glad to see that Roger's habit of taking twice as long as a teenage girl in the bathroom had not gone away.) Mimi had offered her something to drink, but since none of the options had a fair amount of liquor in them, Regan thanked her but took nothing.

Then Mimi lit a cigarette and took a long, slow drag.

Normally, this would have not bothered Regan in the slightest. She had gotten over the cravings a long time ago. However, the situation she was currently in had loaded an undue amount of stress into her system. She was practically about to burst at the seams with nerves that she couldn't even carry on a conversation with her brother's girlfriend. Mimi, for her part, seemed just as much at a loss of what to say as Regan, which accounted for the uncomfortable silence in the room between the two women.

Regan first focused on what was the same about the loft and what was different. The furniture was basically the same since she and Roger had first lived here. Things were arranged differently and there were some items she did not recognize, but mostly things had stayed the same. She smiled faintly at the guitar propped against the window although she could tell it was not the same guitar that he had owned when she was here. At least it appeared he had not given up his passion for music. Music was a major part of her brother's life, or, at least it had been. For all she knew, he just kept that thing as an exalted relic to his past.

She heard Mimi take another puff on her cigarette. Damn those sharp Slayer ears!

"This is…I don't even know how to put it," Mimi ventured.

Regan smiled sardonically. "Surreal seems to be the chief term I've been using to describe my day."

Mimi nodded her head, taking another puff. "Yeah, surreal. That works."

Regan took this time to size up this new lady who had caught her brother's affections. Clearly, Regan had no pre-conceived notion of her being the chief holder of the spotlight in her brother's life. She had forfeited that position years ago. Therefore, she had no right to feel jealous of this Latin beauty. And she wasn't jealous. In fact, Regan was pleased Roger had found someone, especially after learning what had happened to April.

"So…so, how long have you and Roger been together?" Regan queried.

Mimi stretched and yawned while she figured up the dates in her head. "About one year and three months almost. We got together Christmas of '04."

Regan nodded in approval. "Cool."

Hmmm. He must be serious about this girl. April never moved in with us. Well, that may have been partly my fault.

Yet another puff on the cigarette reached Regan's ears. She clenched her teeth, angrily ordering her traitorous body to stop craving the cigarette. That was rather stupid since it was most likely a psychological craving rather than a physical one. After mentally arguing with herself, she finally decided one little cigarette wouldn't hurt anything. If anything, it would calm her down, give her a nice focal point. She needed that now more than anything.

It's only one…after that, no more.

"Um, Mimi?" Regan asked tentatively.

"Yeah?" Mimi replied.

Regan sighed in resignation, holding out her hand. "If you have anymore cigarettes, I could really use one right about now, if that's okay."

"Oh, okay," Mimi said. She clearly had not been expecting a request like that.

Mimi crushed her cigarette in the ashtray on the table and pulled another cigarette out of the pack and walked over to the sofa. When Regan took the cigarette Mimi held out a lighter. Once it was lit, Regan took the most drawn out drag Mimi had ever seen. When she exhaled a stream of smoke, she leaned back against the sofa, her head tilted back. She started to chuckle a little.

"God, two years I went without these cancer sticks," Regan said wryly. She shrugged in defeat, quirking an ironic smile in Mimi's direction. "My best friend was always telling me to quit because there were way cooler ways to die."

Before Mimi could even edge in a reply, the two women heard a door creak open. Both of their heads whipped towards the bathroom to see Roger emerging, his hair still damp and stringy.

He was not even looking up when he said, "Babe, we're almost out of shampoo."

Regan stared, completely frozen in place; her lit cigarette was perched between her fingertips and only centimeters away from her mouth. She was barely even breathing as she looked upon the man she had not seen for over three years. She imagined the building could have suddenly collapsed or gone up in flames all around her and she would not have been able to make herself move.

"Ah, Roger…" Mimi began hesitantly, her gaze flitting from Regan to her boyfriend repeatedly.

"Yeah?" Roger asked, looking up. He frowned when he noticed a girl he apparently did not recognize beside his girlfriend.

She hadn't meant to do it. It was like there was some kind of cosmic force controlling her at the moment. Regan actually met his gaze, telling him with her eyes what she was currently unable to with her voice. She nodded without knowing particularly why she was nodding, but never took her eyes away from his magnetic eyes that stared into hers almost blankly. She saw flickers of something, flickers of what could be confusion, or what could be the flickers of recognition.

Mimi merely stood aside, still glancing nervously between the two, wishing she could do something to make this situation any less awkward than it already was. When she saw the realization materialize on his face, she took a deep breath and pulled further away from Regan, allowing the girl to be the only thing in his line of vision. Of course, she had the ulterior motive of just feeling extremely uncomfortable.

Man, I really wish we had bought some liquor. Everyone's gonna need it by the end of the day.

Okay, I'm off to go hide out for a while because I'm quite sure a few of you will want to kill me for that. It's okay to admit it because I would probably want to kill me for that, too.