Disclaimer: I don't own the characters besides Emily, Lisa and Gabrielle, and I don't own 'Oprah'.

Author's Note: Thanks for those who reviewed! Keep them coming please!

2. Dead To Me

Filled with new courage and ready to rely on his intuition now he had Fred by his side, Wesley entered the Hyperion Hotel the next day. He was determined to find out who Gabrielle really was now. And he wouldn't have to do it alone. Both Fred and Wesley had decided that it would be for the best to leave the rest of the gang out of this, they probably wouldn't understand, and it would be too complicated if too many people got involved. Another thing was probably the fact that Wesley didn't want to share his 'little secret' he had with Fred with anyone else. Finally he had something that was just of himself and Fred...

Finally.

'There you are!', Fred greeted him with a cheerful smile. She'd already started work early, so she wouldn't get behind in her other work. After all, no one should be able to notice that saving the helpless wasn't her number one priority right now. Of course, her job was important to her, but she was pretty sure they wouldn't 'really' miss her, or even notice she was pre-occupied anyway.

'Good morning.', Wesley greeted her back, also with a smile that always seemed to pop up when he saw Fred.

'I've already been busy this morning, but I haven't really found a lot of information about her.'.

'That's quite all right. I appreciate your trying.', Wesley said, really meaning it. Even if she wouldn't find out anything at all, then she still would be doing this for him.

'I Google'd her, but when I typed in her last name, Morgan, I only got...', she paused, not sure whether this was a sensitive subject for him or not.

'What did you find, Fred?', Wesley asked gently, indicating that it wasn't and that she could tell him.

'There was just a lot of information about.. well... Lilah.'.

'What?', Wesley took off his coat and walked around the counter to look at the computer over Fred's shoulder, not realising how close they were all of a sudden.

'Lilah. You do..-'. '- I do remember Lilah, Fred.', he replied quite firmly, more than he intended to.

'Of course you do.', Fred said softly.

'It's all right, I'm sorry.', Wesley continued on a much nicer tone. Apparently the subject was more painful to him than he would have thought.

'Do you think they have some sort of connection?', Fred asked, somewhat curiously.

'Absolutely not. Lilah doesn't have relatives.', Wesley said, ignoring the nagging feeling inside that told him he may not be right about that one.

Fred raised her eyebrows at his sudden, almost defensive reaction. 'Okay.. No connection.', she said, and turned around to get something from the desk, and, while doing so, she suddenly 'did' notice just how close they were.

Just inches apart, Wesley noticed it too. Being close to Fred was nice, he figured. Not that he expected it not to be, but still, it was nice. Beyond nice ,actually. It felt as if the world had stopped turning and only the two of them were left. This was it, this was their moment...

But it wouldn't last long.. Just as Wesley leaned in to kiss her, Cordelia entered, interrupting the comfortable silence with her cheerful, present, voice. 'Doughnuts!', she exclaimed and put the bag on the table. Quicker than anything, Fred and Wesley parted. They weren't sure whether Cordy had seen anything, but if she did, she was good at pretending she hadn't. Neither wanted to take the risk, and so they just continued pretending to work.

'Hello-o? Doughnuts ? Breakfast? To prevent the great famine?'. Cordy walked over to the counter and handed Fred, who was as red as tomatoes, the bag.

'Thanks.', Fred said, and took one, just to have something to do. She started to eat it, handed the bag back to Cordy who then passed it on to Wesley with a funny frown.

'Where's everyone? Isn't everyone supposed to be like, hungry, by now? ', Cordy then asked. She took a bagel herself, completely ignoring the obvious uncomfortable tension between her two friends. She wasn't blind though, not at all. But right now, she figured it was probably for the best to pretend to be so, and let them solve this themselves.

She could always get involved later.

The following days Wesley and Fred avoided each other as much as possible, so the Gabrielle- investigation was at a stop. Sometimes Wesley wondered whether he should leave it like that, he didn't expect her to be evil anyway. What he felt was probably just curiosity. Or a little more, because it wasn't the kind of curiosity he felt when he was doing research for a client, this was much stronger. The question who she really was haunted him all day, and night too. Wesley was suddenly shook out of his pondering, which came very close to brooding, by a soft noise coming from the office next to his. He held still, listening whether the sound was real or had just been his imagination.

He soon learned it was real, because the sound continued and didn't stop. HE got up and listened at the door. It sounded like someone was crying. But who? Cordelia? She could've had a vision, but he thought she was out with Angel, on a quick patrol. Fred then, maybe? He hoped not, then he would have made her cry.

He slowly opened the door.

It wasn't Cordelia.

It wasn't Fred either...

'Gabrielle?'. He walked over to the girl sitting on the floor. She was in the middle of all kinds of files and papers she'd been sorting out. Like this, she looked rather fragile, not as tough, and self-confidant as she usually appeared to be. Maybe that was just a role she played, maybe now she'd finally taken off her mask and showed the real her.

When she heard her name she suddenly looked up, shocked that someone had caught her in one of her weak moments. She quickly wiped her eyes dry, although not succeeding in erasing the red cry-marks which stayed behind.

'I... I was just...', she nervously searched for an explanation.

Wesley gently kneeled by her. He wasn't good in situations like this at all, but he tried to comfort her as good as possible.

'Shh, it's all right.', he said gently, putting a hand on her shoulder somewhat hesitant.

Gabrielle shook her head, both ashamed of her crying and not able to stop it yet.

'Do you feel lonely?', he suddenly asked her. He felt sorry for her, but was glad that she finally showed she actually had feelings, and therefore seemed to be a human being after all. That was a rather comforting thought to Wesley, at least she probably wasn't a demon or anything other evil. She looked up at him, and by the look in her eyes it was obvious that he had hit a weak spot. She got up slowly and walked over to the window, staring outside.

'Sometimes...', she eventually admitted.

Wesley got up as well and stood next to her, eyeing their reflection through the glass. It was then he noticed it.

His eyes.

'I feel lonely too, sometimes.', he told her softly. He wanted her to know that she could trust him, that she could tell him what was wrong without being ashamed because of it. His confession of his own intimate feelings seemed to work. She turned to face him again.

'You do?'.

He nodded slowly. 'I do..'.

'Funny, you don't look like the 'lonely type' at all to me. You have all these great friends, and a place to live..'.

'I do, indeed. But you know, Gabrielle, it's not about having all these things. A rather sociable person may be surrounded by nice people all the time, and still be lonely. And do you know why?', he asked her, speaking quite autobiographically right now.

'Why?'.

'Because, despite they surround him, they don't know him. They think they do, but they don't know the half of who he really is.'.

It was true. All of Wesley's friends assumed they knew him. They knew he used to be a watcher, a demon hunter. More than that they didn't need to know.

Didn't 'want' to know.

Neither searched for the actual reason why Wesley had fought all these demons. He couldn't blame them for it, though. They had no idea. No idea that the actual reason why he he done it, why he fought, and was still fighting it, was the fact that during his childhood Wesley had had to deal with to him the greatest demon of all; his father.

He was still dealing with him.

In his subconscious, and in his dreams, Wesley fought the humiliations every single night. The physical ones had disappeared a long time ago, but the mental ones had remained and created deep scars into his soul that would probably never disappear completely. No one knew about his struggles with the past, no one. Not even Fred. Not because they didn't care, but because he didn't want them to care. When they cared, when they knew, Wesley would have surrendered. Then his father would have won, then he would have succeeded in doing what he had intended to do all the way: destroying Wesley. And that, would 'never' happen. Wesley wouldn't allow it.

Gabrielle had just listened to all the things he said. 'Why don't you tell them about who you really are then? Or don't you want them to know? Is it something about your family, maybe?'.

It was a good thing that young Wesley was already clever himself, because if he wasn't he probably wouldn't be able to handle the large amounts of work his father gave him every single day. He really did his best, the best he could, but it was never enough. Never good enough. No matter how hard he worked he was still considered to be lazy, or stupid. Wesley started to believe that he deserved all these hours in the dark broom closet after all. Sometimes he thought there were demons, or ghosts, in the wall, but other times when he was more sane he expected it to be nothing but his own subconscious fears growing in his taunted imagination. He'd stopped screaming.

He'd stopped screaming a long time ago.

No one ever heard him anyway.

No one wanted to hear him.

No one would.

When Wesley turned 11 years old he gained new hope. After the summer holiday, he would go to the Watcher's Academy. That was a boarding school, so no more beatings from his father, finally. He would finally be free, free from his father's accusing eyes.

Ready to start his new, hopefully better, life, he walked through the white, large halls of his new school. His first school, actually. Before this, he had been taught at home. When he looked around, he was other children of his age with their parents. Mainly boys, some girls. Very few, though. Wesley didn't mind his parents weren't with him. He was better off without them. His father would only talk about how Wesley would fail here, and his mother would only care about socialising. Wesley was a loner. Always been, and always would be. After following some directions he climbed up the marble stairs and entered the room that was said to be the first-grade boys dormitory. He sat down on a bed that seemed comfortable to him. By the window, with a nice view. He was the only boy in the room, but he heard voices in the corridor. Three dominant-looking boys entered. By the look on the middle one's face, he wasn't very pleased.

'Hello.', Wesley greeted him rather hesitant. They looked like the kind of boys a 'loner' would rather not get involved with.

'You're sitting on 'my' bed, Pryce.', the middle one said.

Wesley remained where he was. 'I don't recall anyone having told me about the bed's having already been chosen? And how do you know my name?'.

'Alexander Greene.', the boy introduced himself. 'Benjamin Sheffield, Oliver Jackson.', he introduced the boys on his left and right as well. 'I know everyone, everyone knows me.', Alexander said.

'Well, I don't remember having heard about you before.', Wesley said, taking on a defensive attitude.

'Now what does that say about you, hmm?', Alexander asked with a frown. 'Anyway.', he pointed at the bed Wesley had claimed his own. 'My bed.'.

Timidly, Wesley rose from his seat. 'Right. I'll just... have that one over there..'. He walked over to a bed in the corner and quietly started to unpack his few belongings. He was free of his father, indeed. But someone else would take over his job, apparently.

Gabrielle let out a sigh when Wesley finished telling about his childhood. He looked up at her. 'Is there something you would like to tell me now, Gabrielle?'.

Finally, influenced by both the atmosphere, and Wesley's story, she started to tell. No longer capable of keeping this secret to her self. Sometimes everybody just needs to unload.

Even Gabrielle.

'I've never known my father. I believe it was when I was 4 years old that I came to realise that all other children were mostly in company of a woman 'and' a man. The woman was the mother, of course. But that man I didn't know. Until a little friend of mine asked where my 'father' was...

'Gaby, why don't we ever see your daddy?', Lisa asked. The two four year- olds were sat on the schoolyard, not on top of the bench, but next to it.

'My what?'. Little Gabrielle had never been confronted with a 'daddy', so then how should she know what it was? Of course, she'd heard the word on tv, and on the streets, but she'd never heard her mommy say it, so why would she care about what it was?

'Your dad. Your father. Where is he? Are your mommy and daddy divorced?'.

Gabrielle wasn't sure what 'divorced' meant either, but it sounded mean, and not fun at all, so she decided that wasn't true.

'No! What's a daddy?', she asked, curiously. Lisa gasped. 'You don't know what a daddy is! He's the one who plays with you when mommy watches 'Oprah'!'.

Gaby frowned and tugged at the head of her Barbie-doll. 'My mommy doesn't watch 'Oprah!'.

'Really? Then what does she do?', Lisa asked.

'My mommy always works.', Gaby said wit ha slight pout.

'Then who takes care of you?'.

'My nanny, Emily.'.

'Oh... My mommy says only stupid rich people have nannies.', Lisa pointed out.

'That's not true!', Gaby yelled in defence. No one called her mommy stupid without paying for it!

'It is true!'.

'Is not!'.

The two quarrelling girls were interrupted by the bell, and they immediately forgot about their argument. Gaby stood up, grabbed her beheaded Barbie-doll and ran over to Emily who was waiting for her outside the school gates.

'Hey there!'. Emily scooped the little girl up in her arms.

'Emmy, Emmy! Where's my daddy and why won't mommy watch 'Oprah' and and and what's divorce?', the little girl blurted out all her questions at once.

The surprised nanny quickly searched for an answer. 'Eh... divorce is when two married people end their relationship.', she replied the last, probably easiest, question. 'And your mommy doesn't watch 'Oprah' because when it's on tv she's still at work?'. Emily didn't really understand the value of this question, but Gaby asked more question no one understood, so she just tried to answer understandably hoping the first-asked question would be forgotten.

It wasn't.

'And what's a daddy? Lisa says everybody has one.'.

'Why do you want to know?'. Emily didn't want to say anything her boss, Miss Morgan, wouldn't agree with. And the problem was, they never discussed this before, so she wasn't sure just how much she was allowed to tell. She decided to keep it objective.

'A daddy is, someone who.. helped to create a baby.', she said, carrying the little girl to the huge villa they lived in, just in the best neighbourhood of New York.'.

'Was I a baby?'.

'Yea, everyone was a baby once, even me.', Emily explained with a smile.

'Wow...', Gaby said. 'So where's my daddy?'.

They entered the house.

'You'll have to ask your mother about that, dear.'.

'Mommy!', Gabrielle loosened herself from Emily's embrace and ran over to her mother, who was unexpectedly home early from work today. She was greeted with a small smile.

'Hey.'.

'You're early, miss Morgan.', Emily said.

'Yes, I took the rest of the day off.'.

'Mommy, mommy, mommy where's my daddy?', the child exclaimed. Her mother raised an eyebrow.

'You don't have one.', she told her.

'But Lisa says everyone has one!', Gaby pouted.

'Well, you don't.', Lilah said in a voice that made clear this was the end of the conversation. Gabrielle knew better than to go into a discussion with her mother, so , when Lisa asked her where her father was again the next day, she simply said: 'My daddy's dead.', and ended the conversation about him for once and forever.

Wesley looked down as he listened to Gabrielle's story. It was all very clear to him now.

Crystal clear.

If he thought about it, he'd actually known who she was from the beginning, it all made perfect sense. How could he have thought she was... strange, or even, evil?

Gaby looked up at him.

'You were dead to me.'.