Lonely Without You - August 15th
Twisted Shorts August Fic-a-Day Challenge - Day 15
Title: Lonely Without You
Author: hermione2be
Rating: PG/FR13/K+
Crossover: BtVS/Supernatural
Disclaimer: I do not own any of BtVS/Angel or Supernatural people, places, or ideas. This fiction is done simply for pleasure and I receive no profit.
Summary: Willow’s time spent alone starts to get to her and those around her.
Notes: Part 10 of “A Redhead in the Impala” - Links Page
Seasons: Post-Series/Season 2
Word Count: 1650
Dean didn’t know what was worse. Sam being bitchy or the company. Or the problems they were facing with Agent Henriksen who wanted them to be transferred. But they were only in prison to investigate a haunting - and the food wasn’t half bad.
There was also the matter of Willow. She had to be setup close enough to the prison that she wouldn’t actually pop-in, but in a place that wasn’t going to draw attention. Bobby was on a Hunt in Seattle but would be down as soon as he could be spared.
The Impala was stashed at a garage in Little Rock. They hoped to get everything done before Henriksen could make the extraditions go through. The public defender was helping to stall but it had only bought them a handful of days.
88888888
Willow studied the necklace her father had handed her before explaining that this was not going to be a normal Hunt. They were going away for a number of days - and there would be no contact. She would be left completely on her own for at least four days. If they were lucky, they would get back to her before the end of that time. If not she would contact Bobby and then they would hope that things could be worked out.
She had never really thought about the necklace. It had always simply been a part of Dean. It was like the scar on his hand or the Impala.
But as she looked at it, she thought it was rather an odd thing. She wondered if it had special properties that made him like it. She put it in mind to ask.
“Willow,” Shayla said. “You were determined to have a dance party at least once a day. Do you want to have it now?”
Willow put the necklace back into her shirt and felt the heavy weight of it rest against her. “We should.”
Shayla smiled and her wings fluttered as she flicked on the radio. “Come on then.”
Willow shimmied and laughed as Shayla did the same. They twirled around and jumped on the beds to the vocals of P!nk and Justin Timberlake. When they finally dropped exhaustedly to the floor to sit, they were both giggling.
“I’m glad you’re here, Shayla,” Willow said. “It would be lonely without you.”
Shayla smiled at her, offering a soda from the fridge. “You know that I’m here as long as you need me, Willow.”
“What if I need you forever?”
There was a patient smile. “Your life may not always be like this.”
Willow shook her head. “Daddy and Uncle Sammy save people. That’s why we keep moving.”
“Do you like moving around?”
“It’s okay. I don’t mind it.”
And Shayla was sure at six years old that Willow meant it - mostly. Just like she did when she didn’t ask questions because she didn’t want to inconvenience anyone. Her nomadic lifestyle was also what had made Sully assign a size-changing Zanna to Willow after her display of magic.
“You can mind things,” Shayla said. “You can be mad and sad and angry. And you can say what you feel. It’s not fun to stick around a motel room for days on end.”
“I have my books,” she defended.
“I know,” she pacified her. “But you keep so much bottled up, Willow. It’s not good for you. You know when your Uncle Sammy was upset and he just kept it all in?”
“Yeah.”
“You remember what happened when you talked to him?”
“He cried.”
“Yes. And he thanked you. Because he felt better after he felt those emotions.”
Willow frowned at her. “Why would I make them sad or mad?”
Shayla resisted the urge to do more than flicker her wings. Her understanding of the situation was vague, while Willow had once been an adult, she had been returned to childhood without any of the benefits of her memories or her magic. Instead, they were trying to deal with the strangeness of her by ignoring it, and treating her as a normal child.
From time to time, however, certain parts of Willow’s personality, reactions, words, thoughts, were influenced by some sixth sense about her past life. This was the root of Willow’s problems. She worked very hard to bury her disagreements. It was unclear if this was her personality from her previous childhood - affected by her birth parents’ treatment of her. Or a knee-jerk reaction to a time in her life when emotion had ruled her.
This was the delicate balance Shayla walked. Because while Willow did need to handle, deal with, and process her emotions, there were her guardians to consider. Sam and Dean were not stupid, but they were…emotionally out of touch. It’s probably why they didn’t notice that a little girl could calmly - sometimes too calmly - sit alone for days at a time. A girl who didn’t admit when she was scared or something was bugging her.
Missouri Mosely had been right to tell Willow to speak up. And she had learned to, about her basic needs. Unfortunately, the boys were not great at understanding that being loved was a basic need for children. Sam tried to make sure she did school-related projects, worked on her writing skills and talked to her about the books she read. He was great about numbers and language and how to find what you needed. Dean took her to parks and out to briefly interact with other kids, he made sure she had enough food to last twice as long as they would be gone, and even made sure some of it was healthy. He was great for fun things.
But at her core - from this childhood or her previous one - Willow longed to be loved. What she lacked, after saying it once to Sam, was the confidence to declare her feelings and demand theirs in return.
“Should we make some lunch?” Shayla asked.
“Yes,” Willow agreed.
88888888
Willow was startled awake by her phone.
“We’re headed for you, kid,” Dean said as soon as she picked it up. “We’re hauling ass, so being waiting outside the door. Ten minutes.”
“Okay,” she said as she got out of bed.
Dean hung up the phone.
“She good?” Sam asked.
“We’ll see in a minute.”
They drove like bats outta hell in the beat up old car they had stashed for their escape. They skidded to a stop in the parking lot of the East End Motel near room 18.
Dean laid on the horn twice. Sam got out of the car as Willow opened the motel room door. He picked up her bag, doing a quick assessment. She was dressed for bed with shoes on.
“Let’s go,” Sam told her.
Willow followed him. They sped across the city to the garage they had stashed the Impala in. In under five minutes, they were leaving the garage, a few minutes later Willow was back asleep.
“Directions?” Dean asked.
“Yeah,” Sam fished them out of his pocket. “Let’s get this over with.” He glanced in the backseat. “It’s disturbing how quickly she falls back to sleep.”
Dean snorted. “You used to do the same thing at that age.” He shook his head. “A little more time and it won’t be that easy.”
“No kidding,” Sam replied, thinking of his own problems sleeping.
88888888
Dean sat on the edge of the bed, watching Willow sleep in the opposite bed. Sam stepped back into the motel room, carefully closing the door. Dean had been victim of a Djinn and he looked…awful. Sam had managed to rescue him and another of the Djinn’s victims.
“That was the hospital,” Sam said softly. “The girl, she’s been stabilized. They think she’ll pull through.”
“That’s good,” Dean whispered.
“How ‘bout you? You all right?”
He cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’m all right.” He looked at Willow then Sam. “You should have seen it, Sam. Our lives… You were such a wussy.”
Sam chuckled and sat at the end of the bed Willow occupied. “So we didn’t get along then, huh?”
“Nah.”
“I thought it was supposed to be this perfect fantasy.”
“It wasn’t. It was just a wish. I wished for Mom to live. That Mom never died, we never went hunting and you and me just never, uh…you know.”
“Yeah. Well, I’m glad we do. And I’m glad you dug yourself out, Dean. Most people wouldn’t have the strength, would have just stayed.” He looked at Dean. “I’m guessing Willow wasn’t there.”
“No. She wasn’t.” He frowned. “And like you and me not being close, it kept trying to convince me it didn’t matter.”
Sam glanced at Willow, who slept on, unaware she was the topic of conversation. “And it mattered?”
Dean’s chin wobbled. “I really didn’t think it did… and then every kid I saw was a redhead with green eyes, and sparkly red shoes and a book that wasn’t from Sesame Street.”
Sam’s gaze slowly returned to his brother.
“The wish…it was about everything we’d lost, everything this job costs. Mom and Dad and Jess…a house and childhood.” He licked his lips. “I didn’t realize, until she wasn’t there…how much I care about that little kid.” He looked at his hands, “The way we live, the things we do and see every day… being someone's parent had never occurred to me.”
“You're not even thirty, there is still time…”
“It’s been a year, man. Did you think that between you and me and a kid that we’d keep all of us alive? And I imagine its mostly luck.”
“What are you thinking?”
“When this is done with Yellow-Eyes -when we’ve gotten revenge… we should bow out.”
Sam’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“You, better than anyone, knows that a kid deserves a better life than a Hunter can provide.”
“I never thought I’d hear you say that.”
“I never thought I’d care enough to believe it.”
Title: Lonely Without You
Author: hermione2be
Rating: PG/FR13/K+
Crossover: BtVS/Supernatural
Disclaimer: I do not own any of BtVS/Angel or Supernatural people, places, or ideas. This fiction is done simply for pleasure and I receive no profit.
Summary: Willow’s time spent alone starts to get to her and those around her.
Notes: Part 10 of “A Redhead in the Impala” - Links Page
Seasons: Post-Series/Season 2
Word Count: 1650
Dean didn’t know what was worse. Sam being bitchy or the company. Or the problems they were facing with Agent Henriksen who wanted them to be transferred. But they were only in prison to investigate a haunting - and the food wasn’t half bad.
There was also the matter of Willow. She had to be setup close enough to the prison that she wouldn’t actually pop-in, but in a place that wasn’t going to draw attention. Bobby was on a Hunt in Seattle but would be down as soon as he could be spared.
The Impala was stashed at a garage in Little Rock. They hoped to get everything done before Henriksen could make the extraditions go through. The public defender was helping to stall but it had only bought them a handful of days.
88888888
Willow studied the necklace her father had handed her before explaining that this was not going to be a normal Hunt. They were going away for a number of days - and there would be no contact. She would be left completely on her own for at least four days. If they were lucky, they would get back to her before the end of that time. If not she would contact Bobby and then they would hope that things could be worked out.
She had never really thought about the necklace. It had always simply been a part of Dean. It was like the scar on his hand or the Impala.
But as she looked at it, she thought it was rather an odd thing. She wondered if it had special properties that made him like it. She put it in mind to ask.
“Willow,” Shayla said. “You were determined to have a dance party at least once a day. Do you want to have it now?”
Willow put the necklace back into her shirt and felt the heavy weight of it rest against her. “We should.”
Shayla smiled and her wings fluttered as she flicked on the radio. “Come on then.”
Willow shimmied and laughed as Shayla did the same. They twirled around and jumped on the beds to the vocals of P!nk and Justin Timberlake. When they finally dropped exhaustedly to the floor to sit, they were both giggling.
“I’m glad you’re here, Shayla,” Willow said. “It would be lonely without you.”
Shayla smiled at her, offering a soda from the fridge. “You know that I’m here as long as you need me, Willow.”
“What if I need you forever?”
There was a patient smile. “Your life may not always be like this.”
Willow shook her head. “Daddy and Uncle Sammy save people. That’s why we keep moving.”
“Do you like moving around?”
“It’s okay. I don’t mind it.”
And Shayla was sure at six years old that Willow meant it - mostly. Just like she did when she didn’t ask questions because she didn’t want to inconvenience anyone. Her nomadic lifestyle was also what had made Sully assign a size-changing Zanna to Willow after her display of magic.
“You can mind things,” Shayla said. “You can be mad and sad and angry. And you can say what you feel. It’s not fun to stick around a motel room for days on end.”
“I have my books,” she defended.
“I know,” she pacified her. “But you keep so much bottled up, Willow. It’s not good for you. You know when your Uncle Sammy was upset and he just kept it all in?”
“Yeah.”
“You remember what happened when you talked to him?”
“He cried.”
“Yes. And he thanked you. Because he felt better after he felt those emotions.”
Willow frowned at her. “Why would I make them sad or mad?”
Shayla resisted the urge to do more than flicker her wings. Her understanding of the situation was vague, while Willow had once been an adult, she had been returned to childhood without any of the benefits of her memories or her magic. Instead, they were trying to deal with the strangeness of her by ignoring it, and treating her as a normal child.
From time to time, however, certain parts of Willow’s personality, reactions, words, thoughts, were influenced by some sixth sense about her past life. This was the root of Willow’s problems. She worked very hard to bury her disagreements. It was unclear if this was her personality from her previous childhood - affected by her birth parents’ treatment of her. Or a knee-jerk reaction to a time in her life when emotion had ruled her.
This was the delicate balance Shayla walked. Because while Willow did need to handle, deal with, and process her emotions, there were her guardians to consider. Sam and Dean were not stupid, but they were…emotionally out of touch. It’s probably why they didn’t notice that a little girl could calmly - sometimes too calmly - sit alone for days at a time. A girl who didn’t admit when she was scared or something was bugging her.
Missouri Mosely had been right to tell Willow to speak up. And she had learned to, about her basic needs. Unfortunately, the boys were not great at understanding that being loved was a basic need for children. Sam tried to make sure she did school-related projects, worked on her writing skills and talked to her about the books she read. He was great about numbers and language and how to find what you needed. Dean took her to parks and out to briefly interact with other kids, he made sure she had enough food to last twice as long as they would be gone, and even made sure some of it was healthy. He was great for fun things.
But at her core - from this childhood or her previous one - Willow longed to be loved. What she lacked, after saying it once to Sam, was the confidence to declare her feelings and demand theirs in return.
“Should we make some lunch?” Shayla asked.
“Yes,” Willow agreed.
88888888
Willow was startled awake by her phone.
“We’re headed for you, kid,” Dean said as soon as she picked it up. “We’re hauling ass, so being waiting outside the door. Ten minutes.”
“Okay,” she said as she got out of bed.
Dean hung up the phone.
“She good?” Sam asked.
“We’ll see in a minute.”
They drove like bats outta hell in the beat up old car they had stashed for their escape. They skidded to a stop in the parking lot of the East End Motel near room 18.
Dean laid on the horn twice. Sam got out of the car as Willow opened the motel room door. He picked up her bag, doing a quick assessment. She was dressed for bed with shoes on.
“Let’s go,” Sam told her.
Willow followed him. They sped across the city to the garage they had stashed the Impala in. In under five minutes, they were leaving the garage, a few minutes later Willow was back asleep.
“Directions?” Dean asked.
“Yeah,” Sam fished them out of his pocket. “Let’s get this over with.” He glanced in the backseat. “It’s disturbing how quickly she falls back to sleep.”
Dean snorted. “You used to do the same thing at that age.” He shook his head. “A little more time and it won’t be that easy.”
“No kidding,” Sam replied, thinking of his own problems sleeping.
88888888
Dean sat on the edge of the bed, watching Willow sleep in the opposite bed. Sam stepped back into the motel room, carefully closing the door. Dean had been victim of a Djinn and he looked…awful. Sam had managed to rescue him and another of the Djinn’s victims.
“That was the hospital,” Sam said softly. “The girl, she’s been stabilized. They think she’ll pull through.”
“That’s good,” Dean whispered.
“How ‘bout you? You all right?”
He cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’m all right.” He looked at Willow then Sam. “You should have seen it, Sam. Our lives… You were such a wussy.”
Sam chuckled and sat at the end of the bed Willow occupied. “So we didn’t get along then, huh?”
“Nah.”
“I thought it was supposed to be this perfect fantasy.”
“It wasn’t. It was just a wish. I wished for Mom to live. That Mom never died, we never went hunting and you and me just never, uh…you know.”
“Yeah. Well, I’m glad we do. And I’m glad you dug yourself out, Dean. Most people wouldn’t have the strength, would have just stayed.” He looked at Dean. “I’m guessing Willow wasn’t there.”
“No. She wasn’t.” He frowned. “And like you and me not being close, it kept trying to convince me it didn’t matter.”
Sam glanced at Willow, who slept on, unaware she was the topic of conversation. “And it mattered?”
Dean’s chin wobbled. “I really didn’t think it did… and then every kid I saw was a redhead with green eyes, and sparkly red shoes and a book that wasn’t from Sesame Street.”
Sam’s gaze slowly returned to his brother.
“The wish…it was about everything we’d lost, everything this job costs. Mom and Dad and Jess…a house and childhood.” He licked his lips. “I didn’t realize, until she wasn’t there…how much I care about that little kid.” He looked at his hands, “The way we live, the things we do and see every day… being someone's parent had never occurred to me.”
“You're not even thirty, there is still time…”
“It’s been a year, man. Did you think that between you and me and a kid that we’d keep all of us alive? And I imagine its mostly luck.”
“What are you thinking?”
“When this is done with Yellow-Eyes -when we’ve gotten revenge… we should bow out.”
Sam’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“You, better than anyone, knows that a kid deserves a better life than a Hunter can provide.”
“I never thought I’d hear you say that.”
“I never thought I’d care enough to believe it.”