Disclaimer: This story idea is mine, but the characters are not (unfortunately!) I'm sure that everybody knows the rest by now, right? Ok!

Without You by Kimber

He watched the building as it was engulfed in flames. He felt all his hopes, his dreams die in the fire.

She was calling to him, calling for help, for forgiveness. For love ... his love.

The fire raged.

* * *

Rollie awoke with a start. He glanced at his bedside clock, and squinted at the numbers. 4:52 a.m.

He shook his head, freeing the horror of the dream from his mind.

He got up, knowing Angie usually came in early on Saturday mornings to get a head start on her work, as there was usually a lot to do.

He waited, with the coffeepot turned on, and Angie's mug out for nearly two hours. Finally, near 6:15 a.m., a noise sounded at the door. Rollie raced towards the door, flinging it open. He grabbed the unexpecting woman, and drew her in.

"Ang, I've been waiting for you. You're ..." He let the squirming woman go, and watched as she shook her short brown hair into place.

"Tyler, I could have you charged for that, you know." Mira Sanchez joked.

Rollie sighed. "Sorry. I thought you were An ... I thought you were somebody else."

Mira saw the hurt in his clear hazel eyes, and she felt a sickness in the pit of her stomach. "Rollie, come on. Angie isn't coming back, you know that."

Rollie backed away, taking a seat in his soft leather chair. "You're wrong. Angie will come back. She has to, she can't just leave me like this."

Mira sighed, and put her arm on Rollie's shoulder. "Listen, pal. We all loved her, but you've got to let her go. Angie died in that fire, and it was over two months ago. I know we never found her body, but that doesn't mean anything. The fire was pretty bad, and she ... well, let's just say we found a lot of unrecognizable ashes."

"She is not dead!" Rollie shouted. He shook his head. "She's not."

Once Mira had left, Rollie got up and began to pace the room. He stopped in front of the photo gallery he had at his set of desks.

He picked up the first picture he saw ... one he had look at ... studied nearly a million times. It was taken just months after he had met Manny Ramirez, and his darling little girl, whom he referred to as 'Angel'. The photograph showed Rollie, handsome and proper looking at twenty, with his arm around Manny. In the corner of the picture, a child's face stood out. Angie, at eleven, was staring ... or admiring Rollie Tyler. She had a far away, glazed look to her face.

Another photograph showed Angie, at seventeen, on her graduation night. Her date had his arm wrapped securely around her waist. Rollie laughed, remembering how it had been Manny's idea for him to accompany Angie to her prom.

"Oh, Ang. How could I have been so dumb?" He cried, sitting back down into his chair.

He remembered the day of the explosion, the day that he, Rollie Tyler, had forced Angie into risking her life. Why he was no better than Nick Breen, the guy who had forced Manny Ramirez to do the risky stunt man years earlier, ending his life.

Angie had been so skeptical...

Two Months Earlier:

... "I don't know about this, Rol. I personally don't think this is a safe idea." Angie had said, skeptically.

"Trust me," Rollie replied. "It is safe, nothing's going to happen to you."

"Promise?" She asked, her blue eyes coming to rest on Rollie's face.

"Angela, you can trust me." He said. "Mira and I will be right there if anything goes wrong. You won't go in without a briefing. It's about as safe as anything."

She had agreed, and was all set to do her part that night. When she came to Rollie, later that night, just before they were to leave, he was sure she'd changed her mind. But it wasn't change she had on her mind, it was something else.

She had waltzed into his room, definitely agitated bout something. She had paced for a good five minutes before settling down.

"Angela, will you quit it? You're liable to wear a hole in my carpet! Is something the matter?" He'd said, without glancing up at her.

"Rol..." she began. "I just ... Well I was wondering about something."

"Yeah?" He asked, finally meeting her eyes. He saw they were filled with an unusual compassion. "What is it?"

"Well, we've known each other for a while, right? And we've always had an honest relationship ... I mean friendship." She blushed. "Well, I mean what I want ... what I'm trying to say is ... well..."

"Yes?" He prompted. "We're leaving in twenty minutes. I've gotta get Lucinda prepped too." He got up, and began to walk away.

She grabbed his arm. "Rollie listen to me, dammit! Could we ... I mean have we ever been more than just friends?"

Rollie turned around to face her. "Angela," he said shortly. "Your father was one of my very best mates. I've known you since you were just a little girl. No we've never been more than just friends."

"But ... could we?" She swallowed hard. "I mean, this isn't anything new, I've had this feeling for quite some time. But I care, Rollie, I really do."

"Angie, hon." He grasped her hand. "I care, too. But you don't mean this. You're just confused, and worried over this evening."

"Rollie," she pleaded. "Why aren't you listening? I am fine, there is nothing wrong with me." She began to cry. "Why not?"

"It would never work; you know that. We've been friends too long."

"But, Rollie ... I just don't want to lose you!" She cried.

"Angie, you're not going to lose me. Ever." He bent down and kissed her forehead. "Now can we continue later? We really need to go." ...

That was the final time he had seen her well ... and alive. He silently condemned himself. He knew he had been a jerk. She had poured her heart out to him, and he had turned her away. Sent her off in a different direction.

Now she was gone. Forever. And he was left alone with the feelings, and pain ... and the guilt.

* * *

Rollie was woken up the next morning by the shrill ringing of his telephone. He stumbled out of bed, and picked it up.

"Tyler FX," he grumbled.

"Rollie, it's Mira..." the voice began.

"This had better be good, Sanchez. I don't appreciate being woken up at six in the morning on a Sunday."

"Rollie, it's Angie."

"Ang?" He asked, suddenly wide-awake. "What about her? Have you found her? Is she alright?"

"Hey, hold up!" Mira protested. "Yes and no. We ... well, we found her. But Rollie..."

Rollie had already hung up, and was on his way to the station.

He parked hastily in a visitor's spot, and raced into the building. He spotted Mira and ran to her. "Where is she, Mira? I want to see her, now!"

Mira pointed to one of the interrogation rooms. "But Rollie, listen..." she began.

He raced away from her. "Not now!"

"Tyler, wait!" She cried, running after him.

He threw open the door, and ran into the room. A young girl sat at the table, and she turned to face him. A young girl sat at the table, and she turned to face him.

It was Angie, alright. Her blue eyes shone, but her face was dull a and somehow different.

Rollie ran to her, as she stood up, and threw his arms around her. He kissed her.

Angie shrieked, and began to slap at his chest, wailing.

"Tyler, stop!" Mira raced in, and drew Rollie away. "You don't understand."

"Understand what?" Rollie asked, staring at Mira, quizzically. "What the hell's wrong with her?"

Mira glanced at Angie, who was now seated at the table, her head in her hands. "Rollie, my office, now!"

Rollie took one last look at Angie and followed Mira. Once they were securely in her office, she turned to him. "Rollie, you never let me finish. Angie's not okay; she a she doesn't remember anything at all. She doesn't even know who she is."

"Why? Rollie asked.

"We're not sure. I mean, we suspect she was knocked out in the explosion, perhaps stumbled away once the fires cleared. Nobody saw her leave, and frankly a no one knew she'd made it out alive.

"The couple out there brought her in," Mira motioned to an elderly couple, sitting on the bench, a confused look on their faces. "Said they found her wandering the streets three months ago and took her in. The woman's a retired school counseller; the man's a preacher. When they saw our missing ad a the one that Francis convinced me to put out a they called in."

"Well, isn't there anything to help her remember?" Rollie cried. "She can't be completely blank!"

"Listen to me, Rol. She is. Hell, the couple says she could barely tie her shoes when they found her. I was hoping you could maybe talk to Angie, you know let her know some stuff about herself. Our Doc will be in shortly to have a look at her. He'll tell us if there's any chance a well, if her memory will return."

Rollie got up and raced from the room. He slowed his pace when he reached the interrogation room, and opened the door slowly.

Angie instantly looked up at him, and winced. She began to sink in her chair.

"Hey, sorry I scared youa" he began, sheepishly. He sat down across from her. "I a well I didn't know."

She reached across the table and took his hand. "Why?"

"Why what?" He asked.

"Why did you do that? Why did you kiss me like that?"

"I a I'm sorry. I shouldn't have, but I justa"

"No, it's okay. I liked it." Angie said, sheepishly. "Are you my boyfriend?"

"Huh? Oh, well no." He answered, blushing deeply. "Just someone who loved you a lot and was very worried about you."

She was silent before speaking. "Who a who am I?"

"Who are you? Well, uh, Angie a Angela Ramirez. You are twenty-four years old, anda"

"No." She said, shortly. "I know my name's Angela. My wallet told me just as much. But who am I? I mean what did I like to eat, what was my job? Do I have kids? And who is my boyfriend? I want to know, and I know you can help me Mr.a"

"Rollie," he filled in. "Rollie Tyler."

"Rollie, you have to help me." She pleaded. "I hate not knowing."

He grinned and squeezed her hand. "Of course I'll help, Angie. I'll do anything to help a to help you remember."

But he wasn't sure he really wanted her to remember everything. Or anything.

* * *

Two days later, once Rollie had settled Angie in his loft, and let her slowly re-learn her life, he began to realize that Mira had been right. She was completely clueless.

She remembered nothing at all. Not her friends, her families, her tragedies. She didn't remember Leo, or her father, or Rick, or him.

When he told her stories of her life, he saw that she paid close attention to what he was saying. A few times he'd caught her staring at him, as though trying to figure something out.

One time she spoke up.

"Rollie, wait." She interrupted him.

He looked at her. "Yeah?"

She slid closer to him on the couch. "You were my friend?"

He nodded. "Right."

"Oh," she looked disappointed. "'Cause, well, I don't know if it's my feelings returning or what, but a I feel something with you. A sort of bond."

"We were really good friends," he replied, avoiding her eyes.

She was silent before answering. "Rollie, do you, I mean did you love Angie? Did she love you?"

He blushed. "Well, um a in a friendly sort of way, yeah. We looked out for each other."

"I don't mean in a friendly sort of way." She said.

"Yeah, wella" he got up from the couch. "I do."

"Rollie, is there something you aren't telling me?" She questioned.

He was about to answer when the front door flew open, and Lucinda Scott breezed in. She instantly caught sight of Angie, and ran to her.

"Oh, Angie! You're okay!" She threw her arms around her.

Angie recoiled against Rollie. "Who a who is this?"

Lucinda looked at her. "Are you serious? Rollie, is she serious or is this just a bad joke?"

"Luce," Rollie began. "Angie doesn't remember a thing."

Lucinda backed up. She grabbed Angie's arms, and held her at arm's length.

"You look the same," she commented.

Angie shrugged.

"Ang," Rollie came up beside her, putting his arm around her shoulder. "Meet Lucinda Scott. Actress Extrordinare, and good friend of yours."

"Hey," Angie replied.

"You don't remember anything at all?"

Angie shook her head.

"Not me, or Rollie, or Rick?" Lucinda motioned to the framed photo of Rollie and Rick Forsythe, a stunt man and friend of Rollie's, who'd been killed just a year ago. "How about our blind dates? Hmm, ring a bell?"

"Nope."

"Oh my," Lucinda sighed. "You really don't know who you are, do you?"

To Be Continued



Without You Part Two

Angie sighed and threw herself on the couch. She crossed her arms, and pouted.

"Ang? Angie?" Rollie's voice called after her. He appeared in the doorway, a concerned look on his face. "What's wrong?"

Angie began to weep. She shook her head. "Nothing."

Rollie sat beside her on the couch, and turned to face her. "Angie, please?"

Angie raised her gaze to meet him. "I a I'm just never going to remember."

"Ang," he put his arm around her shoulder. "We'll keep trying."

"Don't," she pulled herself away. "It's just no use." She turned away from him. "Please leave me alone."

He got up, and knelt before her. "Ang, we're not going to give up." He looked into her pale blue eyes, the one thing that Angie had valued the most.

"You may not understand it yet, but we loved you a lot, and we would do anything to help you remember."

She got up from the couch and ran from the room. Rollie was about to follow her when he decided against it. He'd let her go cool off for a while, then go talk with her.

He ran his fingers through his hair, half frustrated with himself, half frustrated with Angie.

At first, when he had seen her again nearly a month ago, she had been willing to regain her memory. But as days passed, then weeks, she lost hope. She wanted to know more about her relationships with Lucinda and Mira. With men, with her Father, and with him. She kept insisting there was a part of her that felt he was special.

Yet he had turned her away again. He didn't have the heart to tell her that she was right, that she did love him, and he a he loved her too.

But he knew there were consequences to her knowing. If he told her, he would feel obligated to tell her what he had done.

He knew that her first question would be "Why aren't we together?" He'd be forced to retell how she had confronted him, and he had turned her away.

Rollie raced to the phone, and dialed Mira's number.

"Sanchez," her voice came over the line.

"Yeah, Mira, it's me."

She was silent before answering. "Rollie, hey! What's up, you don't sound too good to me."

"Nah, I'm fine," he sighed. "Hey, anything new from the Doc?"

"Still the same diagnosis as yesterday," Mira said. "And the day before that, too."

"Hmm," he sighed. "It's just that I'm worried about Angie, y'know? I mean, she disappears for a few months, and you all think she's dead. Then she turns up, but she isn't Angie anymore."

"Listen, I know it's hard on you, Rollie, buta" Mira began.

"Hard on me?" Rollie interrupted. "It's hard on her! She's given up hope; she keeps pushing me away, saying she's just wasting my time. The Angie I knew would never give up."

"But Rollie, this isn't the Angie you know."

Rollie was silent. "I suppose you're right. But I know the true Angie is in there, sometimes I catch a glimpse of her. But she always disappears."

"Keep trying," Mira advised. "Don't ever give up, okay? I gotta go now, Lord knows what Francis is up to!"

Rollie hung up and let out a sigh. What could he do for Angie to show her that he wouldn't give up? To show that he cared.

An idea suddenly crossed his mid, something his father had done for him when his mother died.

On his way out, he passed the bedroom where Angie was staying. The door was shut, so he figured that she was inside sleeping.

He silently slipped away.

* * *

Rollie crept into the loft, not wanting to disturb Angie if she was still asleep.

"Don't you say a peep," Rollie cautioned the puppy in his arms, who had decided at this very moment that she wanted to speak up. "Listen, you're a surprise, don't spoil it!"

The tiny puppy looked up at him; her silver eyes met his.

He tiptoed to Angie's room, and stood outside. He couldn't hear anything.

"Angie? Angela." He called, softly.

Still nothing.

He opened the door, and gently pushed it open. He spotted a lump beneath the covers, and grinned. He hated to wake her up, but there was always time to sleep.

He let the puppy go, and watched as she bounded onto the bed, running straight over to the lump.

The lump still didn't stir. Rollie trotted over to the bed, and pulled back the covers.

"Angie, get upa" He let his voice drop.

The lump he'd seen hadn't been Angie at all. It had been bunched up blankets and a pillow, most likely placed thee to fool him.

He looked quizzically at the blankets, and spotted a note. He picked it up and began to read,

"Dear Rollie. I'm sorry I had to fool you like this, but it's the only way I could buy myself time. When you read this, I will be gone already. Please just leave me be. I have caused everybody a lot of pain, and I really don't want to do that. It's obvious that my memory will not return, so I think I'll just begin my life again, with new surroundings and new people. I will never forget your kindness and perhaps someday I will return and we can be friends. That is what you want, right? Friends?

Angie"

Rollie dropped the note, tears stinging his eyes. He rapidly tried to think. Where would Angie go? The train station? No, she hated trains. The airport! That's where she'd go.

He called to the puppy, and together the two of them hopped into his truck to find Angie.

* * *

Angie pulled the car over. She knew her flight wasn't for a while and that gave her time to spare.

She got out of the car, and began to walk to the building in the distance. She couldn't place it, but something was familiar about this place, something eerie.

Once she was within feet of the building, she stopped. The place looked like it had collapsed, its beams black with ash as though a mad fire had ripped through it. The ceiling was half on the ground, and half hovering, just feet above the ground.

Angie stepped toward the building, cautiously. Memories were flooding her mind, but they were coming much too fast for her to comprehend. Rollie. What had he said when he found her note? Would he even care?

Angie felt a tear slip down her cheek, remembering what Rollie had said earlier. "She isn't Angie anymore." No, Angie thought, I'm not the Angie he used to know and love. But can't he learn to accept me now?

She shook her head, wiping the tears from her eyes. No, it was too late to turn back now.

She walked closer to the crumbling building.

* * *

As Rollie drove, something popped up in his mind. The day before, he and Angie had been working on a set, and Angie had insisted she wear a tracker, so she and Rollie would know where each other were at all times.

Rollie balanced the wheel with one hand, and reached under the seat. He smiled as his hand touched the tracker. He pulled it out, and stuck it to the strip of Velcro on the dashboard.

As he drove, he clicked it on and watched as a tiny glowing dot suddenly appeared. The dot began to move, slowly at first and then stopping.

Rollie squinted at the dot, and felt his blood run cold. Angie appeared to be near the building where she had been working before she disappeared.

Rollie spun the truck around, startling the puppy who lay on the seat beside him. He raced towards the old, run-down building.

* * *

Angie stepped carefully in to the frame of the building. She knew she had to turn around and head to the airport, but something was pulling her toward this building.

Her head began to pound, and she reached up instinctively. A memory began to form in her mind, this time slow enough for her to interpret.

She saw herself walking into a room, heard herself talk to someone. 'Could we be more than just friends' she heard herself ask. Whoever she was talking to gave a negative response, and she saw the little Angie in her head turn away, tears in her eyes.

Angie squinted, trying to picture who she had been talking to, but the face remained unseen.

She had been so absorbed in the memory that she didn't even notice that she had begun to walk beneath the crumbling roof.

A noise startled her, and she looked up just in time to see a piece of roof tumbling toward her. As she tried to run, Rollie's voice filled her mind.

"Angela, you can trust me."

The blackness came.

* * *

Rollie pulled up into the lot, and glanced at the tracker in his hands. He saw that Angie was around the middle of the building, and hadn't moved for the last five minutes.

"Angie!" He cried, running toward her debris. "Ang?"

He began shifting through the ashes, unable to see her anywhere. Suddenly, he heard a mumbling noise and ran toward it.

"Angie!" He spotted her on the ground, a heavy piece of wood across her chest. He used all of his strength to pull the wood off her, and carefully shifted her into his arms.

"Rollie?" Angie's voice came softly. She began to stir and her eyes flew open, brandishing their sparkling blueness.

"Oh, Angie, are you okay? Why did you try to run?" He began to stroke her cheek.

"Run?" Angie asked, quizzically. "I a I thought we were doing the job for Mira, and then I heard a boom, and a anda" Her voice dropped. "You promised, Rollie, you promised." She collapsed into his arms.

* * *

Well, that's the last time I lose my memory!" Angie exclaimed, glancing at Rollie.

He smiled back. After he had found her, Rollie had brought her back to his truck and raced her to the hospital. She had only suffered minor cuts and bruises, and her ankle had been broken.

When she had regained consciousness, she'd requested to see Rollie. Now he stood before her.

"So, wella" He trailed off. "I suppose you regained all your memory, huh?"

Angie nodded. "Listen, Rol. I ... I know about us, and I guess you were right. I was scared and confused, and I supposea"

"No," Rollie sat on the bed beside her, and took her hand. "No, Angela, you were right."

"Huh?" She turned to him. "Rollie, whata"

"Shh," he put his finger to her lips. "Wait here." He raced from the room, returning seconds later with the golden retriever puppy he had gotten.

"Oh, Rollie!" She exclaimed. "For me?"

He nodded. "She can stay with me for now, because she might not get along with Chiops just yet."

"Sure," Angie replied. "I suppose I may be staying with you for a while, too."

Rollie nodded. He watched as the puppy bounded up on Angie's bed, carefully avoiding her ankle.

"She's sweet, Rol. Thanks," Angie commented. "She got a name?"

"Well," Rollie turned away, feeling the flames rush up his cheeks. "Yeah, I a um a don't know if you'll like it."

"Well," she began. "What is it?"

Rollie mumbled something and Angie strained to hear him.

"Huh?"

"Love," he said a bit louder. "I named her Love."

"Oh," Angie fell silent.

Rollie turned to face her, and he once again took her hand into his own. "Angie, I a I know that I turned you away once, probably many times, but a I never meant to hurt you. I just wasn't sure if I shared, if I wanted you to know I shared your feelings."

"Rollie," Angie began.

Rollie brought his finger to her lips to silence her. "Please, I need to say this. When you were gone and everyone said you were dead, I didn't believe them. Then you came back, but you weren't the same Angie. I'm sorry if I was cruel to you, but I just wanted the real Angie back.

"Angie, I can't live without you."

When Angie didn't answer, Rollie got up and slowly began to walk away.

"Rollie, wait!" Angie called after him. She attempted to get up, and fell onto the floor.

Rollie ran to her, and picked her up into his arms. "Angiea"

"Yes?" She asked, wrapping her arms around his neck. Their faces were closed now; Angie could smell his aftershave.

Rollie closed the space between them with a kiss, and this time Angie didn't pull away.

By Kimber Dilay. Please, if anybody has any thoughts on this or any other story I've written, send comments! As long as they aren't vulgar, or really mean, I'd love to hear what you think of my writing!!!!!! --

Email: fx_6@mailcity.com