An Old Dream

On her way home from her first day of work, Angela heard her stomach growl.

"Oh." She'd said aloud, fascinated by the very idea of needing food again. "I'm hungry."

It had been almost twenty-four hours since she'd been awakened and she hadn't eaten a crumb. The growling had been triggered by the strong smell of gourmet pizza, so Angela looked up at the restaurant she just happened to stop in front of. The sign said Scavo Pizzeria.

"What?!" Angela squeaked. "When did this happen?"

With a child's hushed excitement, Angela entered the restaurant. It was just past the dinner rush, and there was no line at the counter. She stepped up to it, staring at the menu.

"Can I help you?" said the boy behind the counter. Angela did a double take when she recognized him; it was Andrew Van de Kamp.

"...Andrew?"

"That's what the name tag says, anyway."

Angela couldn't do much more than stare. He looked so...grown up.

"Sorry, I don't remember if we know each other." he said.

"I'm a friend of your mother's." Angela improvised. "From way back."

I didn't even have to lie.

Andrew nodded politely. "Can I get you anything?"

"Hmm...something really big, I'm starving."
"Do you like lasagna?"

"Oooh, lasagna..."

"I'll take that as a yes."

Angela watched Andrew cut a square from a waiting pan. She realized it wasn't brain surgery, but this was the boy that used to pick fights with Zach during play dates. How had she missed it? He'd become a young man.

He used to pick fights, yes. What else did he do? To Bree?

Angela was having trouble remembering why she was surprised he was so mature, but her heart swelled with pride to see him back in town and behaving himself.

"How is your mother doing?" she asked.

"She's fine." Andrew said right away, as a reflex. He thought about it for a moment, and realized it was the truth. "She's doing really well, actually. A lot better than she was."

He cares so much.

Angela smiled. "That's so good to hear."

Tom Scavo came out from the kitchen then, approaching the counter with that goofy grin of his.

"Welcome to Scavo's!" he said to his customer. "Everything alright so far?"

"It's great." said Angela, looking around the restaurant, taking in her surroundings and all the delicious smells.

"Great! Don't forget the breadsticks, Andrew."

"Sure thing, Mr. Scavo."

Angela sat down with her food. She stared at it for a few seconds, letting the anticipation of her first bite grow. She noticed a familiar song on the radio, a pop hit from the 80's.

Music!

The lasagna was gone in minutes, before Andrew had the chance to bring her a glass of water. She gulped that down too, not putting the glass down until all the water was gone.

"Oh my god..." she said between breaths. "So good!"

Andrew tried not to make a weird face. "You want some more?"

"Please!" said Angela. "Um..." she continued, glancing at the menu. "The fettucini...and...a salad."

"A side salad?"
"No, a full portion. With extra dressing. Please."

Angela didn't have to work the next day, so that night she took the opportunity to remember what it was like to stay up way too late. Her feet still ached from standing behind the cash register all day, her arms and shoulders from lifting shopping bags. All the aches and pains a normal person would be sick of felt beautiful to her, like her body was being colored in. The more a body aches, the more pleasure it feels when it's relieved.

Later, when she could no longer resist the siren call of sleep, Angela got the opportunity to remember what it was like to have a dream. Paul was in it, and they were walking through a dark forest. All of their neighbors from Wisteria Lane had been left behind at some sort of camp grounds as Angela and Paul went off on a journey of their own. Angela looked up, and saw bassinets perched in the trees.

Rock a bye baby, on the tree tops...

Oh, how awful Angela thought through her sleep, realizing that she and Paul were waiting for the wind to blow. She turned to find comfort in his arms, but he was gone. Alone, the forest became darker. Stumbling through the trees she kept seeing little animals in various states of decay. Her dream had turned into a nightmare, disorienting and sick. Angela saw her hands streaked with blood, and she cried out. She lost her footing, tripping on an exposed root. She tried to get her balance but it only amounted to getting her spun around, and she fell flat on her ass.

Every moment of helplessness she'd ever felt in her previous life rushed up and stole her breath and heartbeat from her. She felt dead again, her new toy taken away. Angela burst into tears, sobbing as she held her dirty, blood stained hands in front of her face.

"What's wrong with me?!" she screamed. When had it started raining? The water came down in sheets, as the trees had somehow lost their leaves and no longer provided cover. She saw her clothes were also stained red, and as the rain soaked her and chilled her to the bone, she couldn't tell the difference between the blood and the water.

Angela squeezed her eyes shut and screamed again. No words this time, but something from deep inside of her, a secret pain that could no longer remain hidden.

Then silence. No more rain, no howling wind or babies crying. Angela was still in the dark, dark woods, but it felt simpler than before. Just woods...

"Just a meeting place." a voice, the voice said. The angel, the demon, the motel manager, whatever It was that had pushed her off her cloud. It was here, in her dream forest.

"Did you do that?" Angela asked him, suspicious. Her throat hurt.

"Do what?" he (yes, it appeared to be a man again) said.

Angela looked at her hands. Like the woods, they were clean again.

"I'm still dreaming, right?"

"Sort of. You could say I hijacked it."
"Hijacked it." Angela repeated. The release had exhausted her, and she didn't feel as compelled by curiosity as she had during their first two conversations. All he did was talk her in circles anyhow.

"How does it feel?" he asked her. She knew without an explanation that he meant her new body.

"It felt pretty good up until now." she admitted. Just one day and she'd already gotten used to her new life. Was this dream really just her conscience trying to remind her of the task at hand?

"Just remember what you're here for."

"I haven't forgotten," said Angela. "Because no one really told me in the first place. I'm still figuring it out."

"Okay."

"Can I wake up now?" Angela asked him. She could see the sun through the trees, and started to get worried that she'd overslept.

"You control your destiny." said the demon-angel. It sounded sarcastic, and when he winked at her Angela found herself back in her apartment.