When Sara was growing up, her "magic crayons" helped her escape the pain. Now as an adult and the world famous Art Angel, can they help her to find the life she's always dreamed of?

Sara spent the next seven plus hours driving winding roads as her mind wandered back through time, painfully remembering the many events that led to her leaving in the first place. A couple of times, she was tempted to turn around and go back, but she knew she'd passed the point of no return once she pulled out of her garage.

A few hours from the village, she thought of something she hadn't even considered before. What if they didn't live there anymore? It was possible her parents could have packed up and moved off but not likely. Her father was like most of the people who lived in the village and nearby. They were born here, lived here and then died here. She dismissed that possibility shortly after considering. No, her parents were going to be there, dead or alive, but they'd be there. She knew it.

She decided to not dwell on the possibility of either or both of them being dead. It wasn't something she fancied and she'd deal with it when she got there should that be the case.

When she was about twenty miles from the village she begin wondering what she might find there. She pretty much expected to find things had changed very little since she was 14. Her village was one of those sleepy little ones, where time seems to stand still, and progress passes over without stopping in to change anyone's life. Son's followed their father's into the same work, and young girls eventually took their mother's places. Sara could never have survived there, as she had to change to live and they would rather die than change.

As Sara rolled her BMW into the outskirts of the village it was quite clear her original suspicions were spot on. Save for her classmates replacing their parents at the shops and their kids replacing them in school it was the village she avoided on her way to London. At least on her return she could go right down the main street. She had no reason to stop now any more than she did when she left, so she cruised through without stopping, but she smiled when people gave her the same long looks they'd always gave when an outsider happened past.

Ten minutes later she was pulling up to the gravel road that led back to her parent's house. From there it was maybe 500 feet to the house and barn. She drove a little way in and then pulled the car to the side of the road. Grabbing her coat and bag, she decided to park and walk from there. She really wasn't sure why she needed to do that. Maybe she wanted a little more time to compose herself. Maybe she wanted to slip up quietly so she could go up to the loft and revisit her old sanctuary first. Maybe it was because she'd left this place walking and something within her said she needed to return to it that. Regardless of the reasons why, Sara began walking.

Weeds had sprung up through the patchy areas in the gravel and Sara shook her head as she struggled along the uneven road in her boots. Her father would never let the road go this long without putting more gravel down. For the first time she was really beginning to wonder if her father had taken sick or if parent's had moved.
When the road finally gave way to where the house and barn should be, Sara's heart sank, as she knew if her parents were still there, they weren't living. All that remained of the house was a broken down chimney and scattered pieces of brick and charred wood. From the way Mother Nature had already reclaimed a good portion of what once was Sara's home, it was obvious the fire that had destroyed the house was many years past.

The barn had faired better being obviously spared from the fire, but the doors were off the hinges and the wind had taken out rotten boards giving the sides an almost picket fence look. There'd be no trips up to her old sanctuary as most of the roof had fallen in and a giant sunroof had replaced her beloved loft.

Sara stood looking at what was once her old home and wondering what to do now. Obviously her parents weren't living here but that didn't necessarily mean they weren't living somewhere else. They might have sold the place before the fire, or just let it go afterwards, and moved into town. She could go down the road and ask a neighbor or back into town and ask after her parents there. She had several options but leaving without answers wasn't one of them. She couldn't just turn round and leave, she'd come to far for that and besides that would be running. She was 14 and frightened for her life when she ran from here before. She was almost 30 now and while she was still scared of many things, this wasn't going to be one of them.

When Sara returned to the car, she was tempted to call Prue or Jenna, but undoubtedly they would have questions for which she had no answers. Deciding it would be best to wait until she had a few answers to give them, she turned the car around and headed back toward the road. When she got to the main road she had to choose between chatting up a neighbor and heading into town. Neighbors were few and far between out here and not always the most hospitable people to strangers. Despite the fact Sara had lived here for 14 years, she'd been gone for over 15, and she carried little resemblance to the beaten youth who fled from here in the wee hours of the morning. In the truest sense of the word, Sara was a stranger here and she could expect to be treated like one.

Rubbing her golden angel for good luck, Sara turned Pinky back the way she'd came and headed toward town and hopefully the answers she sought. Minutes later she was rolling into the village and trying to figure out the best place to find answers and the best way to go about it. When she turned a corner and saw the Grey Lion pub, she knew she'd found the place. It was the village's main watering hole and the closest thing to information central they had. Everyone stopped in there from time to time, and if Sara stayed around a few more hours, she'd probably meet her father going in for a pint after work.

Now that she knew where to go, how to go was the next question. She really didn't think it would be too healthy to walk in there and say, "Surprise! It's me Sissy Sara and I've come to visit me parents on 'oliday." She could only imagine the welcoming committee that would greet her then. Obviously, her best way of coming out of this with the information she wanted and all of her teeth, was to play the role of the young woman from out of town, and pray no one recognized her.

Sara pulled into the lot behind the Grey Lion and then headed round front to the door. Just as she reached for the handle another hand grabbed it first and Sara whirled round to see a pair of older man smiling at her. Each tipped their hat and said hello as one held the door open. Sara returned their smile, albeit nervously, then thanked them both as she entered. She'd only taken a quick look but she hadn't recognized either. Of course the most important thing here was that they would not recognize her and on that account, so far so good.

Sara smiled as she looked around. She loved warm and cozy places, and small village pubs like the Grey Lion with their decor and fireplaces were very much that. The pub seemed quieter and a bit emptier than she usually remembered, but a quick look to the wall clock quickly reminded her why. It was half two now. The lunch crowd had gone and it was too early for the tea crowd. Actually that worked in Sara's favor because the least number of people she saw, the better the odds she wouldn't be recognized.

Sara walked over to the bar and pulled up a stool. Like any pubgoer she knew the best source of information in the house was always the barkeep. He was everyone's best friend and if anyone could tell Sara where to find her parents or what had happened to their house, he was the man.

When Sara sat down the barkeep had his back turned to her drawing a few pints. She noted he seemed to be a fairly young man with thick black hair and a stocky build. That struck her as rather odd because Thomas Collins, or "Tubby Collins" as most of the locals called him was the owner of the Grey Lion when she'd left. He was a heavyset man, hence the Tubby moniker, and completely bald save for a few thinning bits in the back. Sara hadn't known him very well, but sadly she had known his son Tom Jr. all too well. Tommy was one of the mates who would routinely use Sara's face to see if he could break his fist. Good ol' Tommy was always up for a good game of "Pound the Poof".

Sara's thoughts were still drifting back from the painful memories of her school days when the barkeep finally turned to serve his pints and Sara nearly fell off the stool. There six feet from here was the aforementioned Thomas Collins Jr. Sara closed her eyes and sighed, silently chastising herself for not realizing who that was sooner. Nearly all businesses here are family owned, passed down from father to son. If she'd been using her head, she'd known straight away who that HAD to be.

Of all the people she didn't want to run into, Tommy Collins was definitely top five material and if she had the sense God gave a goose, she'd turn tail and run before he waited on her. Of course, if Sara had any sense at all, she probably wouldn't have came back here in the first place, so as the saying goes, "In for a penny, In for a pound", Sara stayed her ground and hoped she wouldn't be buried beneath it.

Tommy served his pints and then immediately turned his attentions to Sara. As soon as he saw the fresh-faced young blonde, he smiled until his fangs were showing and then walked up to her, leaning over the bar a bit too close as he spoke, "Well 'ello then. And 'ow are you today love?"

By the hungry look in his eyes and the fact he called her "love" instead of "Sissy Sara", she could say with extreme certainty he'd not recognized her yet.

Sara forced up a restrained but pleasant smile and exchanged brief pleasantries before Tommy was on the attack again. "You must be new round 'ere. Me name's Thomas Collins and I own the Grey Lion. It's always a pleasure to welcome a new customer, specially one as pretty as the likes of you."

Sara held her smile but her breakfast was another matter. She couldn't believe that the same boy, who used to beat her up, was now a sleazy letch trying to chat her up. She politely said thank you and offered nothing else.

When Sara didn't give her name in return, he pushed a bit more directly. "Well then what can I get you to drink Miss...Miss?"

Sara had no intentions of giving her last name, and even "Sara" might be a bit dangerous. Realizing she could hesitate barely a second she glanced down and noticed the golden cherub on her chain. Raising her gaze to meet his she answered him. "I'll have a ginger pop and please just call me Angel, most everyone else does."

Inside she was giggling. She really hadn't lied. Most of the world did know her as Angel or more accurately Art Angel. As pleased as she was with her quick response, Thomas seemed to like it even more so. Quickly noting her left hand was devoid of a wedding ring, he took the liberty of taking it in his own and then bringing it to his lips for a soft kiss. "Angel...the perfect name for a true 'eavenly body", he drooled as he broke the kiss and then went to fetch her drink.

Sara's breakfast threatened her again as she wondered where this guy gets this stuff, because if he's paying for these lines he getting cheated. By the time he'd returned with her ginger pop and a fresh application of his aftershave, Sara knew she needed to turn the tables a bit and start asking the questions instead of him.

Sara thanked him for the drink and before he could ask her what her sign was, she went after the task at hand. "Mr. Collins is it?"

"Please Angel call me Tommy", he quickly corrected.

Sara nodded and started again. "Tommy, are you familiar with the property about 5 miles south of town? There's an old barn and the remains of a burned out farmhouse there."

Tommy smiled hungrily and leaned a little closer. "Sure love, everyone knows the ol' Briton place, been vacant for years."

Tommy stopped, noticing a hint of uneasiness in Sara's eyes. "Say... you're not thinking of buying that ol' parcel of brush and bad luck are you?"

For Sara, her next question was her moment of truth, and all she could do when she asked was hope she could handle the truth. "Well possibly, but I'd really just like to talk to the owners, the Briton's is it? I don't suppose you could tell me where I can find them?"

The barkeep chuckled. "Aye, I could tell you where to find 'em, but you'll be not be talking to 'em this side of the pearly gates. The three of 'em, 'usband, wife, and son all went up with the 'ouse."

Sara sighed heavily. A small part of her had already known they were dead the moment she saw the place, but she needed confirmation and now she had it. The young woman felt regret for the passing of two lives. The little girl felt grief for the woman who had been her mummy in the beginning, and the mother who sent her away to save her life in the end. She even felt sadness for her father. Granted, he was never a daddy to her but he was still her birth father and for that she felt she owed him something.

As she was reflecting on the official passing of her parent's she remembered Tommy had said the "son", meaning her, had died in the fire as well. Feeling the need to get more information on her own untimely demise she questioned her new friend further. "That's really sad Tommy. Has it been a long time since it happened?"

The barkeep rubbed his three-day-old beard as he thought. "Hmmm... let's see now. Be fifteen years come the start of school this fall."

Sara nodded knowingly. The timing of the fire corresponded almost exactly to when she had left. The house probably burnt down at night and before anyone else had learned she'd ran off. Naturally the townsfolk assumed she'd died with her parents, which solved that mystery, but another teased at her. "Forgive me for being so curious, but I am big fan of all those real life police and fire dramas on the tele. I was wondering... did they ever find out what caused the fire?"

Tommy looked from side to side, and then lowered his voice as he spoke. "Well Angel, the paper said it was the cook stove what done it, but ‘tween you and me darlin’, that's not the 'alf of it."

Sara smiled and leaned a little closer. "Oh? Do tell."

Tommy took a deep breath and then told the true tale as he'd heard it. "Well first of all of you 'ave to know the family, and what a sad lot they were. The wife was a scared liddle thing. 'ardly ever left the 'ouse and when she come into town, barely spoke a word to anyone." The 'usband 'e was a mean ol' sot and crazy as a loon 'e was too. Whenever 'e would 'ave a pint too many e'd rave to me Dad bout 'ow 'e meet an 'onest to goodness wizard once, whose sold 'im a magic potion to make sure 'is first born was a boy."

Tommy started chuckling as he shook his head. "Well love if that's true either the wizard cheated 'em or 'e was lousy at making potions, cause is son was the poorest excuse for a boy I've ever seen and just as crazy as 'is ol man. First day of primary school the liddle poof tries to play with the girls and when they told 'em to bug off 'e comes out and says 'e's a liddle girl too and e's real name is Sara! Can you imagine that?"

Sara didn't have to imagine it. She'd live it. Tommy paused but a moment and then continued. "Well after that everyone just started calling 'im "Sissy Sara". Sick liddle bugger wouldn't even try to play sports like the rest of the boys. He'd just sit under a tree drawin and colorin things, usually "girly" things. I know that for a fact, seen some of 'is 'andywork when me and my mates would steal 'is sketch pad and knock 'im around a bit. We never really 'urt 'im all that bad, not as bad as 'is 'ol man did."

Tommy paused again, giving Sara a chance to gracefully bail out of the story if it was getting a bit rough for her, but when she just stared at him with those sky blue eyes of hers, he continued. "Like I was sayin, Sissy Sara's ol man took the strap to 'im somethin terrible. You could see the bruises and welts when e'd come into school. Guess 'is 'ol man thought 'e could beat the bloody poof right out of 'em or kill the boy trying. Can't say I blame 'is ol man though, I'd do the same to me own if he turned that way."

Sara then said a quick silent prayer hoping that Tommy was sterile as another father like hers the world didn't need and then Tommy smiled and offered, "Well anyway, that's when we get to good part love."

Tommy did the quick side-to-side glance and then continued. "See me uncle Percy was up there when they were going through the place looking for the bodies and 'e saw some right strange things 'e did. Seems they found what was left of the 'usband's body layin in 'is bed, but... a chunk of 'is 'ead was missin. Fireman said some of the falling boards probably cracked 'is skull open, but Percy said it looked more like someone blew 'alf 'is 'ead off with a shotgun. When they found the wife she was curled up on the floor in another bedroom and me uncle says the door lock was set from the INSIDE, which seemed a bit queer to 'im. And you know... they never found the son's body at all but they just assumed 'e was in there somewhere and wrote the whole thing up as an accident, but I don't think that's the way it happened at all."

Sara didn't believe it was an accident either and she was forming her own conclusions as Tommy continued with his. "See, I don't think Sissy Sara died in that fire at all."

Sara's eyes went wide as she wondered where Tommy might be running with his theory. "No love, I'd lay me last twenty quid that the son was already dead and buried before the 'ouse ever went up. I think the 'ol man finally beat the little poof to death, hid the body somewhere and then told the wife e'd run off or somethin. I think the wife musta found the boy or figured it out and then went over the edge. She waited till the bloody bastard went to sleep, and then shot 'im. After that she set the fire so no one would know the truth and then with no reason left to live, she locked 'erself in the other bedroom and waited to die."

The amateur Ellery Queen looked rather pleased with himself when he finished and smiled complacently at Sara. "So Angel, whatcha think of that?"

Sara was thinking plenty about "that", and the truth she knew that was weaved through the barkeeps fiction. Her mother had killed her father, set the house to burn and took her own life. Sara was sure of it now and as she remembered her mother's last words, telling her not to come back as there would be nothing to come back to, she realized her mother had already decided what to do before Sara ever left.

Sara sighed heavily and then smiled at the barkeep. "I'll tell ya what I think of that Tommy. I think I've seen that movie on the tele a few weeks ago, but I think I like your version better."

Sara then pulled out a few pound notes and dropped them on the bar in front of the stunned barkeep. Tommy frowned disappointedly. "What? You don't believe me then?"

Sara stood up from the stool and then pondered her answer. "Well, I won't say that completely, but... let's just say that if I were you I don't think I'd bet me last twenty quid on the boy being dead and buried before the fire."

Sara then grabbed her coat and started walking toward the door, letting her last comment hang heavy in the air. It was bait and Tommy bit. "Wait a minute Angel, what makes you so sure of that?"

Sara stopped at the door, turned and smiled knowingly. "Let's just call it women's intuition Tommy and leave it at that, okay?"

Sara winked sending the man nearly into a spasm and then slipped away without another word. Once back to her car, she sat trembling for ten minutes before she had the strength to drive. She couldn't believe she'd walked into the Grey Lion, went face to face with Tommy Collins, and not only hadn't he recognized her, he was definitely tried to chat her up.

Of course there were heavier thoughts on her mind than passing as a genetic girl in her old village, but those were going to have to wait until she'd put some distance between her and her past.

She checked her watch and noticed it was half three. Originally she'd planned to spend the night in a motel and make the drive back in the morning, but if she drove straight through now she could be back in Derby before midnight. She'd be exhausted by the time she got there, but save for Prue or Jenna's house, she'd rather be in her little cottage than any place else. Five minutes later the village was nothing but a speck in her rear view mirror and a painful memory.

Sara had a long drive ahead of her and a lot to think about it. She knew she should probably call Prue and Jenna but there was no way that was going to be a short conversation. As soon as she started talking to them, they'd pick up her mood immediately and then start asking lots of questions and worrying more than they probably already were. No, she'd just wait until she got home and then chat with them in conference as always. Sure she'd get spanked for not checking in, but they'd forgive her. She couldn't understand why they did, but she knew they would. And... if she waited until she got home perhaps she'd have a few things sorted out and be able to answer some of the questions they were sure to have.
Over the next four hours Sara pushed little Pinky past the speed limit and reflected on the implications of today's events. Her parents were dead, not just dead to her as in not a part of her life, but dead to the world and she was positive her mother had killed her father. She tried to sort out her feelings about that but it was too soon and she was too numb. She did realize her mother truly did love her after all. She may not have been able to protect her as she was growing up, but in the end, she gave her own life to be sure Sara's father never laid a hand on her child again. If that isn't love what is?

Her thoughts then turned to what Tommy had said about her father. She knew first hand and by backhand just how mean he could be, but she never thought he was crazy, or at least delusional enough to believe in fairy tale wizards. Sara had read a wealth of information on the possible reasons why a person is born transgender, but nowhere had she read it was because of a wizard's potion gone wrong. Sara decided to attribute her father's ravings more to the pints he'd consumed than any distorted version of reality he might have.

She also thought about THE dream. Had the sole purpose of her dream been for her to return home and face her parents or face the truth about their deaths? She had thought there was more to it before she'd returned and she still felt the same way. She didn't know if her mother's purpose in this dream was fulfilled or not, but she couldn't shake the feeling that the smiling old man behind the counter still had that role to play. Only time and sleep would solve that mystery.

She also wondered if she'd gotten the one thing that her, Prue and Jenna thought was the main reason for her returning: closure. Would the fears and demons that had haunted her since childhood go to rest now that she found out her parents had been put to rest? Did she really face her fears without getting the chance to face her parents, or will she keep on running scared? Like solving the mystery of the dream, only time would say if she'd found closure.

Prue and Jenna weaved in and out of her mind too and each time she thought of them, she lovingly caressed the golden angel or stroked the soft material of her jacket. They'd been her friends and family since she'd left home and now they were truly the only family she had left in this world.

Before she'd made this trip, she had never really understood why Jenna and Rick reached out to her that day at Trafalgar Square, or why Prue helped make the Art Angel a household word. Most of all she couldn't understand why Prue and her husband would want her to live with them, but now she was starting to. Somehow, someway, even as screwed up as she was, she must be worth loving. Her birth mother had loved her enough to die for her. Jenna had loved her enough to reach out to her and help to be the best woman she could be, and then there was Prue. She believed in the little girl enough to give her the courage and the chance to share her crayon magic with the world. She cared for the young woman enough to hold her hand through major surgery and she loved both the big girl and the little girl enough to give them a place in her heart and offer them one in her home.

Sara hadn't accepted that place in Prue's home even though she wanted to with all her heart, and with Prue and her husband trying to adopt, she probably never would, but at least now she knew she was worthy of that love and that place. The little girl within Sara would forever long to live in the real world and be Prue and hubby's very own. The big girl knew that would never be, but now perhaps she could help the little girl understand it wasn't her fault that she couldn't. Until now the little girl had always thought her prayers weren't answered because she wasn't good enough, or special enough or worth loving, but now the big girl knew better. Maybe if the little girl couldn't live in this world and be Prue's own, she could help the big girl be the best Auntie Sara she could be for the one that did and for both of Jenna's kids. It wouldn't give her back her lost childhood, but it might make those kids childhood a little brighter and just maybe it would ease the pain in her own broken heart.

As night began to fall and the lights from the next big city appeared in the horizon, Sara still didn't know if she'd found this "closure" she'd come to find, but she had found some personal truths and a peace that she'd never known before. She couldn't wait to get back home and share what she'd learn with Jenna and Prue.