“Angel. Don’t-don’t you remember me?”
His tone was almost hurt but more worried and the woman cast about for any concrete memory of him. Nothing came. She tried instead to recall her own moniker and had less luck than before. Panic began to set in, along with a strangely blinding fear. “Who am I?”
The man-Angel-wrapped his strong arms around the woman and helped her gently to her feet, holding her as though she were a glass statue which would break in his arms. “Your name is Drusilla,” he answered, eyes silently asking how she felt while he supported her slight weight effortlessly against his own body.
“I-I’m fine. I just don’t remember . . . anything at all,” she finished quietly, sudden tears of frustration making her voice husky. Snippets of her life swam in dizzying circles. “Where are we? Why am I here? What happened to me?”
“Do you need to sit down? Do you want-”
“Just tell me.”
He sighed and moved to stand in front of her, first assuring himself that she could stand alone without collapsing. “You’ve been in an institution. It burned down tonight. I was on my way to visit and saw the flames. I got to your room just in time. They had you so drugged . . . I don’t think you could have made it alone. We’re only about a quarter of a mile away from it now.”
“But the others!” she cried in alarm, uncertain even as she spoke who the “others” were.
“The fire department saved some of them.”
Drusilla nodded, long, straight hair moving slightly with the motion. “That’s good.” Another thought struck with the force of lightening hitting a dead tree. “Why was I there? And why don’t I remember?”
“You were . . . you were insane. For years. I found out about ten years ago that you were alone and I came looking for you. You couldn’t take care of yourself anymore, so I took you to Collinwood. The other day, you . . . tried to fly to the moon from your window. When they called, they said you haven’t remembered anything since. And I don’t think tonight helped.”
“And you visited me there?”
He smiled slightly at her. “Yes, I visited every other day. I didn’t want you to be alone there. It was a nice place, but no place to be alone.”
“No place is a place to be alone.” Drusilla wondered how she knew that, how she knew anything at all. Half-memories swam in her mind but no images stood out from the rest as clear. Fear blanketed her heart in snowy drifts of doubt. “It’s cold.” She glanced down at her silken, blood red nightgown and smiled shyly. “Did I always have this?”
“I bought it for you for your birthday last month,” Angel replied as he wrapped his coat around her soft shoulders and pulled her closer. “She said you wanted a pretty new dress. I figured the nightgown would be more useful.”
“I love it,” she affirmed. “I wonder why I wanted it . . .”
“You like pretty things.”
Drusilla frowned and began walking, halting only to wait for Angel to come and lead their way out of the dark woods toward his car. Harsh thoughts suddenly crowded her tired mind. “Was that all I did then?”
“What? When?” Angel opened the car door and waited for her to get in before shutting it.
“When I was there. Was I just a pretty girl who liked pretty things?” Tears stood in her doe eyes. “Wasn’t I ever more?”
Angel leaned across the car and looked into her eyes, answering solemnly, “You were always more. Don’t ever think like that, okay? You’re . . . How about we head to my place?”
She nodded. “I don’t have anywhere else to go.” As they drove, she watched the people all around. She watched two couples stumbling from a bowling alley, probably more than a bit tipsy, saw another pair standing on the sidewalk, the woman feeding the man a bite of her ice cream sandwich. “Did I ever have that?” she whispered almost to herself.
Eyes never leaving the road, Angel asked absently, “Have what, Dru?”
“Love.”
“Yes. You’ve had love.” Something in his voice revealed a hint of hidden emotion, of something churning just below his calm exterior.
Drusilla urged him ahead, “Have I? Tell me . . .”
He seemed suddenly uncomfortable, shifting in his seat as though it were suddenly hot. “Later. First, let’s get you home and cleaned up, okay?”
“Okay.” She sat silently watching him until they reached Angel’s building. Then, clutching the coat around her, she followed him inside, into his apartment, watched as he showed her where the soap and towels and shampoo were. She watched as he walked into the kitchen and sat down, burying his head in his hands.
Drusilla entered the bathroom and slipped the nightgown from her shoulders while she drew a hot bath. The water lapped gently at her naked form as she eased into the water. With its simple ebb and flow, her chaotic thoughts stilled. She soaked mindlessly for a few precious minutes before she scrubbed away the dirt of her escape. Drusilla watched the ash and dirt wash down the drain with a frown. Something was beginning to form in her mind.
She began to remember.
The woman gasped and sank to her knees as the full impact of her nature dawned. She saw in her mind’s eye decades upon decades of torturing others for her own pleasure, countless acts of horrifying violence, and her own corrupt mind and soul. Incoherent sobs ripped from her throat at the destruction and pain she saw in her own thoughts.
“Are you okay?” Angel had heard her crying and now stood outside the door, waiting patiently for an answer.
“I remember,” she whispered too softly for any human to hear.
“Drusilla, come out. Please?” She rose slowly from the floor and opened the door, still completely naked. Angel swallowed several times before venturing, “Do-do you want to borrow something to wear?”
“No.” Drusilla stepped purposefully closer, eyes shining. “I remember everything now. I remember that you’re the only one who came.” For the second time that night, tears blurred her vision and edged her gentle voice. “Spike never came. No one came but you, Angel.” Her hands ran up his shirt and settled on his shoulders, naked body inches from his. “You said I knew love before, and you were right. I’ve always had you.”
Angel’s arms encircled her protectively. “I’m sorry for the past. I’m sorry-”
“If it hadn’t happened, we wouldn’t be here now. It took us a long time, but we’re here. Aren’t we?” She pulled his head down until their lips met, savoring the warmth that flamed wherever he touched her. Taking hold of his shirt front with her long, slim fingers, Drusilla began pulling Angel toward the bedroom, smiling devilishly at him. “Still sorry we ended up here?”
He smiled and swept her into his arms. “Not sorry at all.”