Title: Visions
Author: A9KFO
Posted: 05-30-2000
Rating: R
Email: A9KF0@aol.com
Content: Angst, angst and a bit more angst.
Summary: Angel and Cordy get it on.
Spoilers:
Disclaimer: The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.
Distribution:
Notes: This has been in my head for weeks, ever since I started reading that "state of grace." It's an AU. Doyle never died but Wesley's around. No Dennis.
For Cousin Mary's challenge about Cordelia telling Angel his soul is permanent.
Feedback: Framed and gilded.
Part 11
Angel sat on the couch, a multitude of voices swirling around him. They babbled of a demon pack, motel battles. He tried to clear his head but their words of a boy with his face rang in his ears. A child blessed with the innocence he'd lost centuries ago. A cherub named Liam.
The frustration, the anxiety mounted until the demon became enraged. "Enough!" He stood up, unaware that he had taken on his vampire aspect. Breathing deeply he stared at the stunned mortals. "The Moglos attacked but they only wanted Liam. Why?" Giles looked up from his whiskey. The flesh around his eyes was already darkening. "Their goal in Los Angeles and presumably here, is to open the gateway between this world and the higher realm. They're searching for a key or a sacrifice." He glanced at Cordelia before continuing slowly. "In retrospect their primary goal has been Liam. A child, conceived in the Temple of the Oracles, could make the difference in upsetting the equilibrium." Cordelia, seated on the floor, shivered in Willow's arms, her face grey. Looking up she winced as Angel stood towering over her. "Would you like to explain how a child I didn't know I had became the sacrificial lamb balancing the forces of the universe?" Cordelia felt Willow's hands, reassuring her, but her voice trembled as she raised her eyes. "That night, at the Oracles, I lied." "You haven't stopped since then, have you?" His words cut deeply but she struggled to continue. "Angel, I didn't know any of it would happen, anymore than you did." As he stepped closer, the sparks from his anger showered down on her dark hair. "What did happen?" She swallowed, gathering the remains of her nerve. In her daydreams, it had never been this hard, this painful. "My vision, it wasn't fame or fortune. You knew me, you should've known that. My wish was you. Just once, it was you." Why didn't you know that? She silently asked. Why, the one time it mattered, didn't you know that I was lying? Angel's eyes hardened even more. "That was you, not Buffy in my vision." Her head dropped, unable to meet his stare. "You let me walk away, come back to Buffy but you couldn't bother me with the truth. And when you found out you were pregnant you still didn't say anything. And now because you kept your mouth shut for once our son's paying the price. With his life." Cordelia closed her eyes at the revulsion in his voice. She had prepared for two years for this confrontation, his condemnation. The shame flooding to her face was dwarfed by the fear permeating her senses. She could never have anticipated the separation, the intrinsic loss of her child. Their child, she thought as a tremor ran through her form. Checking his anger momentarily, Angel looked to Giles. "When?" Doyle interjected. "Tonight. It's Torrian, one of the four sacred nights in the ancient calendar." He had learned more about his heritage from Anis than he had ever intended. "The veil between worlds will be almost transparent. The wee one could be enough to punch through the barrier." He looked at the girl rocking silently on the floor. "I'm sorry Princess." Angel moved swiftly to Giles' supply of weapons. "Restfield Cemetery. Something's been scaring the locals." The ex-watcher set down his empty glass as he tried to stand. "The Spirit Guides. A portal to the next world." He looked at the Slayerettes. "Willow, Xander. Get Wesley and Cordelia to the hospital. Try to find Buffy, but no heroics, every demon and troll on the hellmouth will be running for shelter tonight. Be careful." Xander faced the older man. "No go. I may not be a watcher or a pincushion demon, but I'm not going to hide while they use Cordelia's baby to jimmy the apocalypse." Angel twirled and thrust an ax shaft against his chest. Xander barely kept on his feet. "Then stay out of my way." * * * Strewn on the couch, Wesley's hand gripped Cordelia's as they watched Angel and Giles prepare themselves. More hesitantly but no less resolved, Doyle and Xander followed their example. Willow was outside attempting to pacify the neighbors about the broken door and the roving pack of "goth-rock" teenagers who'd torn through the complex. He felt his friend's trembling and sought to reassure her. "Don't worry Cordelia, they'll return with Liam." Angel heard his soft assurance. "I wouldn't make promises I couldn't keep." If possible, Cordelia seemed to shrink more at the blunt comment. There wasn't time but he couldn't stop himself. "Afterwards you and I are going to have a talk." She flinched at the grim tone. Tentatively she spoke, still unable to raise her head. "Angel, I nev-." "Cordelia, the last thing I want to hear from your mouth is 'I'm sorry.' It doesn't excuse what you did that night in the temple or anything you've done since then." Her hazel eyes sparked. Breathing deeply she stood up to face him. "I'll apologize for a lot of things Angel, but I will never apologize for having Liam. If you want to rip my throat out, you're welcome to it. But after you bring back my son!" His eyes blazed. "*Our* son" he corrected, his tone icy. Glowering, he walked out into the night. The others gaped at the swirl of his long coat. Throwing various sympathetic glances at her, Giles, Xander and Doyle followed. * * * Silently the men trailed behind Angel as he covered the ground of the cemetery. Doyle had asked about their 'plans' in facing the Moglos. Angel didn't check his pace as he growled. "Kill them, find the child." Despite the raging emotions blunting his senses, Angel was guided by a predator's instinct. He moved through the wooded copse downwind of the mausoleum housing the portal to the Spirit Guides. As they approached, the faint chanting of voices could be heard. Peering through the foliage, Xander could make out two bonfires and robed figures moving around them. Angel raised his arm and pointed. Following his hand, Xander saw a dark sack being held by one of the brethren. Perhaps it was the flickering firelight, but the fabric seemed to move. Angel pointed to the fifteen or so robes by the far blaze, then to Giles and Xander. Swallowing, Xander followed the others through the bushes. * * * Xander fell to the ground. Above him, Doyle slashed at the brown robe standing between them. Looking up, Xander shuddered as he saw the unhooded face of his opponent. The demon screeched before falling besides him. He seized the arm lowered by a green faced man. "Thanks. Let me return the favor." He muttered as he took the offered assistance to stand. The Irishman muttered between pants for breath. "Let's hope it's not in the next five minutes, 'kay?" The two looked around. The Moglos were fleeing. Doyle tensed. "Careful man, they never retreat without a reason." He stared as in a short distance away, Giles tore another of the brethren in half with the chain saw. Doyle whistled. "I guess that explains his nickname." Xander searched for their other companion. "Where's Angel? He went after the kiddie bag." Doyle grabbed his arm and pointed. "There!" In front of the bonfire, Angel grappled with two of the brethren. He squirmed and slipped from under their grasp but they pressed the attack. Xander followed Doyle as he ran towards the vampire. Leaping on the back of a brown robe, Doyle pulled the demon to the ground. Xander swung an axe at the midsection. When it continued to squirm, he hacked slowly to avoid Doyle's flailing arms and legs. Finally, it lay still. He turned to watch Angel snap the other's neck. Giles called out to them. "Angel! The child!" Angel scanned the wooded perimeter. "I don't know, I almost reached him. Spread out! They'll keep him alive for the next conflux between worlds!" Xander bent forward with his hands on his knees, catching his breath. The brown robes were already fading into the shadows. Suddenly he found himself face down into the turf. The ground shook with the force of an explosion. He struggled to his feet, his ears ringing. Above the low rumbling, a high keening could be heard. Angel was standing by the extinguished bonfires. The others rushed towards him, but stopped as they looked into the still smoldering circle. There, in the embers, was a small charred skull. Doyle fell to his knees and covered his face with his hands. Giles threw down his weapons before turning away. The caustic smoke burned Xander's eyes. Bringing his fingers up to his face, he touched his cheeks, already wet with tears. He watched Angel picked up the smoking skull, not caring about the live cinders that stuck to his skin and clothes. Ignoring the burns in his flesh, Angel held the skull in one hand, the other stroked the curved top. Suddenly the blackened dome collapsed. He stared at the ashes in his hands as they flowed through his fingers. He threw his head back and wailed. It wasn't the roar of the beast for his mate or the lonely lament of the hunted. It was the cry of one who knew hell; it was the cry of the damned. Again and again he howled his grief and despondency, the volume deafening. Xander, now openly sobbing fell forward, only to be caught in Giles' arms. They sank to the ground, slick with the blood of demons as they watched a fallen angel mourn his lost child.
Post notes:
For those who can't buy Cordelia falling apart or Angel being so nasty, I subcontracted the weepy 'I'm being punished' Cordelia from Rum W/ a Vue and Expecting. Angel's part was played by the 'angry in a justified, betrayed kinda way' character in Sanctuary and Shanshu who bit off Buffy and Kate's heads. Also, as far as Buffy being a bitch in the last part, I dunno. If that were me and my supposed friend showed up w/ my boyfriend's child, it wouldn't take a slayer to dust somebody. In other words, it would be easy if everyone you wanted to be a bitch was a bitch and you couldn't knock the white hats off the good guys but if you live in that world, can you send me directions and a compass?
Part 12
Wesley grimaced as he gulped the bitter hot liquid. Only an automated contraption could brew a concoction so vile and label it tea. He glanced over at Cordelia, seated on the nearby hospital bed. Willow sat to her side, holding the brunette's uninjured hand. They had sat in silence since the police had left after briefly questioning them about the band of robed 'fraternity brothers' that had broken into Giles' apartment. No one had pointed out that it was the wrong time of year for collegiate pranks or offered an explanation as to why pledges would have seized a small child. The Sunnydale gendarmes seem to accept any story as long as it didn't entail searching for perpetrators at night.
He looked down at his leg. The penetrating slice from a shortsword had reopened the wound from Los Angeles. Somehow the Englishman doubted the coincidence. That distant night at the temple, his injury had been miraculously healed by his vision of the future. In truth, the pain had only been postponed. Old accounts were being settled tonight, events coming full circle. The Powers That Be may have given them a chance for new lives, but not without some degree of anguish to counterbalance the joy. A soft voice cut through the tension. "Cordelia." Giles, Doyle and Xander stood at the curtains surrounding the ER beds, their clothes disheveled and faces wild. Willow felt Cordelia trying to pull her hand away. She gripped it tightly as she looked to Xander. "Oh good, you're here. And everything's ok, right?" When no one responded she glanced at Cordelia. She gasped; the brunette's eyes were glassy. Doyle moved to stand in front of her. Her tone wavered. "Doyle, I'm glad you here. I hope you didn't let Giles' stop at the donut shop, Liam shouldn't have anything this late, it'll keep him up." Doyle smiled at Willow before he lifted Cordelia's limp hand from the redhead's hold and held it between his own. "Cordy darling, Liam isn't here." She looked over his shoulder. "Well, then you didn't look hard enough. He's still really little and he'll hide if he thinks it's a game. You really need to find him, it's so late and I want to get on the road early tomorrow." Giles caught Wesley's eye. She was in shock. He turned to look for Anis but stopped at Willow's gentle voice. "We should find Buffy. And Angel, we should be with him." The older man paused but did not turn. "Buffy caught up with us. We don't know where Angel is but she'll find him. He won't be alone." He walked away, his footsteps heavy with the loss of an innocent under his protection. Xander pulled Willow off the bed into his arms, cushioning her head on his shirt. He felt the moisture of her tears as he watched Doyle gently push on Cordelia's good shoulder. Tenderly, the Irishman grasped for the coarse white sheet at the foot of the bed and covered the pale young woman. Wesley wiped away his own tears. Two years ago they had been given a chance for happiness, away from the grim danger of Los Angeles. Tonight the fantasies they'd built had come crashing down, as the price had come due. He watched as Anis pulled Doyle into her embrace. The throbbing in his leg resonated through his frame. Once they had left to pursue the dreams that lay just outside their grasp. They had been chasing visions. * * * Cordelia stood a distance behind Angel as he faced the simple stone labeled 'CHASE.' The others were waiting a short distance away. To his other side, Buffy stood silently fingering the straps of her backpack. Cordelia had asked that Liam's remains be spread over his grandmother's grave. It eased some of the pain in her chest to think of their ashes mingled. Her mother would have insisted on the best for her grandson. Despite her disapproval of her daughter's pregnancy and her frequent complaints over his late night cries, Gwendolyn Chase was as devoted grandmother as she had been an apathetic mother. Often Cordelia would watch amazed, as her mother played peek-a-boo and cooed at the little boy. Angel had emptied a small box onto the grass. It hurt her to think of him gathering it alone from the fire. Surrounded by Doyle and Wesley, she had felt shielded as Giles had spoken a few incantations to bless and protect the plot. Now, standing so close to Angel she could feel the heat of his fury barely held in check. Neither he nor the slayer had so much as looked at her. The lies, the omission of the truth she had fostered for so long had vanished. Absently she was surprised to realize how much of her life had been based on maintaining the deceptions. A life that had been filled with Liam. One final link to that time in her life remained to be severed. Stepping forward Cordelia braced herself for the wrath of both the vampire and his lover. "Angel, I know that you blame me for a lot of things, and I can't deny any of it." He continued to stare at the anchored stone as he spoke evenly. "I do Cordelia, I blame you for not telling me about the Moglos the first time you saw them. I blame you for calling Giles, Wesley, anyone but me to protect Liam." Whirling around, his burning gaze pinned Cordelia to where she stood. The vehemence in his voice rose. "I blame you for raising him alone, without any precautions hundreds of miles away from me. But most of all I blame you for denying me what little time he had on this Earth." She stepped backwards under his recriminations. "Angel." He closed the distance between them. "It was bad enough that you lied to me, destroyed our friendship and everything we had in Los Angeles but then you compounded it by not telling me about him. I had a baby, for more than I year and I never knew. I never held him, watched him sleep or heard him laugh. I never even saw my own son." His eyes closed at the thought of his loss. "I can never forgive you for that." She opened her mouth but could only stare blankly as her tears flowed. Her legs wobbled beneath her. "Were you going to say something Cordelia?" The brutality of his judgement was crushing. "Something clever to defend yourself? Nothing can excuse what you've done." Babbling, her voice broke as she backed further away. "Angel, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I just thought that, I just thought that you'd be happy here with Buffy. Raising your own children." She gasped as his eyes blazed; the demon visible beneath his scowl. "They're not puppies Cordelia. You can't exchange them like the lipstick in your purse. You're right, my life is here, with Buffy, but nothing will ever replace my firstborn." She shook her head, tears dripping off her jaw. "I'm sorry, I never meant for this to happen. I just wanted to say goodbye to my mother and leave before you saw me." He turned to face the stone again. "I'm not stopping you from leaving." Cordelia stared at his back. A growing darkness blurred the edges of her vision. "You won't. I'll leave and you won't have to worry about me wrecking anything." She braved a glance at the impassive slayer before addressing Angel. "Liam was the last tie between us and he's gone. You won't ever have to see or hear from me again." Angel spun on his heel. "That's not restitution, Cordelia. Your silence won't make up for the two years that you deliberately stayed away. When you kept him away. . . " Incapable of finishing he began to sob. Buffy, unable to stand quietly anymore, came forward to wrap her lover in strong arms. Mindless, he crushed the slayer to him, shutting out everything but her soothing love and the crushing pain in his heart. Cordelia began to silently weep as she watched another woman comfort her child's father. Lost in a world of their own Angel gripped her tightly. In the face of his grief, he clung to Buffy's love. Left alone in Los Angeles, Cordelia had experienced a loneliness she hadn't imagined. The memory paled to the emptiness she felt as she watched the embracing couple. Knowing that she was intruding she whispered underneath her breath. "Goodbye Angel, Buffy." She stared at the small slab. In her chest something tore and fell to the ground, lost forever. Since the abduction she'd felt her soul crumble piece by piece. A large part of her heart would always remain by this graveside. "Goodbye Mother." She lost the last of her control. "Goodbye Liam, my angel." Stumbling, she fell into Wesley's waiting arms. * * * In the following days she moved in a daze, still in shock from Liam's abrupt death. Angel and Buffy both avoided her but the others hovered nearby, comforting as best they could. Wesley urged her to accompany him to England, away from her memories. Doyle offered the healing green hills of Vestia beyond the veil of mankind but she refused them both. She was done hiding from the truth. Anis had asked her to stay with her before she made any decisions but Cordelia shook her head. The memories in Sunnydale were too raw. Instead she thought of Colorado, where her son had spent his brief life. Where he reached for the moonlight in the window and grasped at the butterflies in the park. She wanted to remember the wonder in his eyes when he discovered dandelions and earthworms and his disappointment with the icy feel of snow. She had stopped both Giles and Willow from purchasing a plane ticket. Xander, with Anya's support, had wanted to drive her to Denver but Cordelia politely rejected the offer. One morning, shortly before dawn, she called a cab from Giles' apartment. On the dining room table she had left a brief but heartfelt note of thanks. She had asked that he deliver a photo to Angel, the only one in her wallet, when he felt the time was appropriate. In a sliced half of the picture, Liam grinned as he squeezed a plush toy dog to his chest. The other half of the photo, of her in turn hugging Liam to her chest with a large smile, had been dropped in the wastepaper basket. Cordelia directed the taxi to the bus depot. The driver droned on about the milk in his refrigerator spoiling overnight. The local stores must have suffered a power outage because he had to go over three towns for a fresh cartoon. She murmured her astonishment at the appropriate intervals but did not hear his words. Her credit card was already close to the limit but her cash was running low. The zigzagging route would take almost three times her trip down the mountains but she was in no hurry. The furies had been appeased and nothing awaited her in Denver. She walked to her bus through the smoke and exhaust of the depot yard and found a window seat across from a middle-aged woman already heavily into her brown wrapped bottle. Cordelia snorted, not the most glamorous of send-off's but it didn't matter, there was no one to say goodbye. She would never return to Sunnydale. Staring out the window at the departing buses Cordelia wondered how she would fill the rest of her life. Her heart caught in her throat. There, in a darkened alleyway Angel stood, wrapped in a long black coat. His eyes, burning like coals, bore into her. She saw her sadness, the raw grief mirrored in his countenance. Peering through the scratched and filmy glass, she traced every curve and line of the features already carved into her memory. He resembled their son so closely. Cordelia whimpered deep in her throat as she realized that as with his son, she would never see Angel's face again. Then, as he had in so many of her dreams, he scowled. She stared at his back as he turned and slowly walked away, deeper into the shadows. Her mouth trembled. She had lost everything. Her mother, her life in Colorado, the ties to her past in Sunnydale and L.A. All paled to the loss of the lover that had never been hers, the untold desire the Oracles had lain bare. But the deepest hurt was the loss of her son, her redemption. Alone, already missing the milky sweet scent of his breath she rocked in her seat, head in her hands. As she felt the bus pull out she cried as the last fragment of her soul fell away. End.