Title: Aftermath
Author: Florrie
Posted: 00-08-2002
Email: florrie59@yahoo.com
Rating: PG13
Category:
Content: C/A
Summary: She reeked of him. In her hair, on her skin, her breath, her clothes and when she walked past me, god, the over-powering Giles of her.
Spoilers: We are still post "Epiphany" and pre "Belonging".
Disclaimer: The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.
Distribution:
Notes: "Aftermath" is a direct follow-on from the events in "Praeludere", the Cordelia/Giles segment of this series. We are now back in the land of C/A! "Aftermath" will be taking on a part-journal, part-talking to yourself and part-dialogue style. It works for me, I hope it works for you!
Feedback:
Thanks/Dedication: Thanks also to the regulars at the fantastic "Stranger Things" for all the fabulous feedback on "Praeludere". You're tremendous!Part 12
He turned around with this surprised ‘whaaa’ and exploded into tiny particles of dust, ‘bleeding hell’ on his lips. Well, bleeding something. I’m guessing the ‘hell’. I sort of expected a more spectacular exit for Spike, flashing lights and a "Rebel Yell" as the dust flew into the air but he was an ordinary vampire after all.
While everyone was at the cemetery re-burying Buffy, I swept Spike into a dustpan and then spread him over the garden beds.
I’m not sure what to do now. I feel like confessing but that might only cause more problems.
I could lie. ‘I untied Spike so he could drink his blood and he got away. I’m sorry.’ Angel would probably set out to hunt him down.
A half-lie? ‘I untied Spike so he could drink his blood and he tried to get away and I staked him. It was the only way I could stop him. I’m sorry.’ Better, and almost true.
The truth? ‘I intentionally untied Spike to stake him. It seemed fairer that way. I’m not sorry but I do feel as though I have hit a defenceless puppy over the head. I wasn’t going to let him try to raise Buffy again and cause Angel more intense emotional trauma.”
Vampires. That’s what we do, right, stake them? Usually?
There, I have confessed in my journal. I’ll feel better now, won’t I?
***
“Where’s Spike?”“Oh, gee. He’s not in the basement?”
“No. The ropes look as though they have been untied. Cordelia? You were the only one here - did you hear him, see him leave?”
“Actually, Giles, Spike is... he’s in the garden!”
“You let him loose, what on earth were you thinking?”
“Don’t be angry...”
“Angry? Do you have any idea how Angel will react? As if I cared, but Xander and...”
“I staked him.”
“...Willow and me? I beg your pardon?”
“I staked him, Giles, I staked Spike and I swept him up in the little blue dustpan from the basement and then I sprinkled him in the garden... from the rose bushes down to the gardenias. I think he’ll like it there.”
“But... I don’t understand... why?”
“He was a vampire? Look, he said he would keep trying to bring Buffy back to life so I untied him and told him I had a stake, as a warning, but he tried to walk past me to get to the stairs so I staked him and he’ll never be able to hurt Angel... or you, ever. I knew he would want to go to the cemetery because I told him you had gone to bury Buffy and I’m not sorry at all but I do have this little spot in my stomach that feels kind of sick about it.”
“For goodness sake, Cordelia, come here.”
***
He gave me a wonderful warm cuddle.I really needed that hug, not because of Spike so much as Angel. He has gone. When they came back from the cemetery an hour ago, Angel wasn’t with them. Giles took me into the living room and told me Angel wanted to drive out on the road for a while, but he had promised to be back in LA soon. That was half the message. The other half? If I had a vision I’d just have to do the best I could with it by myself until he could get to me.
The sick bit in my stomach from the Spike dusting was fairly small, but when Giles told me about Angel, I really wanted to vomit. Alright, so I imagined he might withdraw into himself for a while, like before, but I didn’t for a minute guess he would up and leave! I thought I would be able to help him deal. I should have known. He’s done it before hasn’t he? Just left? Walked away. Am I supposed to understand? Kick me to the kerb again, you bastard!
He knows I can’t read the visions! He freaking well knows! God, so I want to run away too, not because of Buffy but because of everything else that is crap and for the freaking hell of it because Angel can run away so why can’t I???
I don’t have anywhere to run away to, unless you count Giles. It was a beautiful cuddle, as good as an Angel cuddle. A back-strokey, hair-strokey, cry-all-you-want, I’ve-got-you-safe, shushing into my hair type hug. I cried because I dusted Spike and now a piece of brain is whispering to me that I’m a murderer and I cried because Angel left me and I cried because I was so angry and I want another one, but Giles isn’t here. He’s staying over at the house and I’m stuck in this place, all adrift in my big crimson bed with the pink drapes. Pretty princess pink, like the carousel pony. And no, I am not going to go there - I want off, now!
For the last half hour I’ve been watching muscular tanned bodies work-out on some all-new, multi-functional healthrider - convenient fold-away, shock absorbers, water bottle holder and yours for only $1199!!! I should be excited, right? Okay, so I’m bored, why aren’t I asleep?
I should have brought Teddy with me. I can’t even have a Teddy hug. No Giles hug. No Angel hug. I want them all.
Sheesh, I need some serious therapy.
Later tomorrow morning Giles is going to pick up a rental car and drive us both back to LA.
I want to go home. I can’t wait and I can’t sleep.
‘Soon’. How long do you think ‘soon’ will be? Depends on how far his road trip takes him and, shit, bastard! Go to sleep Cordy.
***
I think she slept for most of the journey once we were out of Sunnydale. I pulled in half way for a bottle of water but she just muttered and tried to crawl further into the corner between the seat and the door. Unless it was a pretense to avoid any discussion. Which discussion? Spike? Angel? Me? I’m being paranoid.She’s asleep now. I took her to her flat and she went straight to bed. I came here to the Hyperion to acquaint Wesley with Angel’s (unknown) whereabouts, the distressing news on Buffy, Spike’s demise and the change in the visions.
Cordelia and I do need to discuss where I stand in this - relationship. I don’t know if I am a friend, an ex-lover, a source of sperm, a.... Christ, I have no idea. Even less do I know what it is that I want.
Being a father to our child - definitely. ‘Our’ child - such a domestic, Sunday roast ring. Does it sound pessimistic if I say this may be my only child? At my age what are the odds I will finally meet a woman who wants to spend the rest of her life with me? If Jenny...no, not Jenny, not tonight. Between demons and sticky buns, I haven’t exactly been able to maintain a woman’s interest. Now I sound desperate and possibly I am. I’ve never seriously considered being a father but now that a child is being handed to me, as it were, on a plate, I ache to hold it in my arms.
All things considered, possibly I am trying to read more substance than there really is into my feelings for Cordelia. I need to think this is a real relationship and that I will have an important place in my child’s life because without that I’m uncertain as to my purpose in... and next I will be over-analysing the pimple on my bum. You are a twit, Rupert Giles.
For goodness sake, wake up to yourself, stop sniffing at the intoxicating breeze, step back from the edge of the cliff and have a good look around.
She is patently in love with Angel and he is, what? Intrigued? Amusing himself? A moron? The situation is altogether far too hazardous. Cordelia willingly staked Spike to save Angel from any more pain. Yes, I know she said it was for me too, but why do I get the feeling it was all about Angel?
Wesley told me about the Groosalug, the come-chuck or shock (damn, I’ll have to ask as to the spelling!), and the visions. Of course, the alarm bells began buzzing so I explained the new nature of the split visions. How did it happen? Did Angel and Cordelia have sex (lord, its puke-worthy) in the same bed, together... she was comfortable sharing a motel room with him so... there’s no point speculating, Rupert. I’ll have to ask her, tomorrow.
I know she will tell me it is none of my business, but where Angel and his soul are concerned it is the concern of us all! I’m going to come off as a lecturing prat, Cordelia will be offended and rightly lose her temper and we shall be no further forward. My bright spot to look forward to tomorrow. Lovely.
***
“I was never more than a couple of hours from LA and I was only gone for the one night...and day.”“That might have been some comfort - if anyone had told me!”
“I’m sorry. I drove all last night and I holed up today until it was dark enough for me to get home and here I am. If the Powers sent a message it wouldn’t have taken me long to get to you and...”
“Assuming it was a night vision and assuming you knew where I would be and assuming the vision wasn’t one of those ‘oooh, danger, quick, turn around, there it is, splat’ variety.”
“Yeah.”
“I might have chosen to stay in Sunnydale.”
“I knew you wouldn’t be there, I mean, I asked Giles to drive you home.”
“Right! And I just jump to do whatever I am freaking told!”
“Cordelia, you don’t like Sunnydale anymore, why would you stay?”
“A holiday? Why not, everyone else was running off for a break!”
“That’s...
“...not fair? Huh, welcome to Callous Cordy Country. Angel, I’m angry and...”
“Yeah, I get that. I thought you’d understand. I needed to be alone.”
“And I needed you. Shit, Angel, I knew you’d need to grieve but I thought I’d be able to help - be there, talk, hug and... hugs!”
“You’d had enough stress, and anyway, Giles was with you. You weren’t alone.”
“Geeze, considering all the love between you and Giles, I thought his arms would be the last place you’d want to push me!”
“Arms? Well, you know, Giles has good points. Um, a good point... He’s human. That’s gotta count when you are talking ... arms. He’s not here is he?”
“No. The Hyperion. He dropped me home this afternoon and went to give Wes the heads up.”
“Oh. Nice. So, these arms... were they around you, or...”
“For pity’s sake, Angel. Make up your mind! You push me away and then you come over all protective jealousy. I can have as many friends as I like. You’re my friend, Giles is my friend. Live with it, or - whatever!”
“We’re friends? Giles is a friend too? The arms were...friendly arms?”
“Yes, of course. You think I sleep with you one day and hop into Giles’ bed the next? Please, I’ll never be able to live down to your low opinion of me!”
“Cordy, I didn’t think you actually slept with him, and while we are on the subject of sex... technically, the sex we had recently wasn’t the sort of sex friends would have and I...”
“So what sort of sex was it?”
“Well, I thought it was definitely bordering on... almost, you know... more than friends, except for the first time, gee, that was a nightmare...”
“A nightmare? You come in your nightmares?”
“Come? Geesh, Cordy! No, I didn’t. I, um, faked it.”
“You did? Wow, that’s so sweet! But... we’re friends. We are all good friends. Can we move on? There is a Spike type curve-ball....”
“Spike. I should have staked the pathetic cretin yesterday.”
“Yeah, well...”
***
I was officially absent for less than twenty-four hours and even that would have been much less if I hadn’t been delayed by a blown tire and almost caught on the road by the sunrise this morning.I ended up parked under an old bridge in a dry creek bed. I couldn’t sleep, nothing to eat and the worst of all, no pen.
Do you know how frustrating it is when you get the urge to write and there is no damn pen, pencil, crayon or quill in your whole confined world? I’m addicted to my journals.
So I read. I read and re-read all my journals. I kept coming back to my general, all-purpose journals (I’m on my second book.) You see, the more I read all the entries about Cordelia, the more I began to see a pattern.
I know that I love her - undisputed fact - but I have this gnawing fear that I might be falling in love with Cordelia Chase.
Part 13
Hi sweetie. I went for our 28 week check today. You are well and I am fairly well and we are going along well together!!! You know that heart-burn I’ve been getting? All normal but I might have to cut out the fries. My blood pressure is a little on the high side but I don’t have to worry about it as long as I stop worrying and it is down by next week! Easy said, just tell daddy and wanna-be to can the squabbling!
They both missed out on the clinic to day. They were too busy arguing. I have no idea what the ‘discussion’ was over but I left them to it. The quiet was heaven.
They’ve settled into a snarling, stalking, ignoring routine. Neither is overly aggressive in the blood spillage sense and Angel keeps his list of ‘pet names’ underwraps when I am around. (I know he has a list. I saw it on his desk once. A stack of tags were crossed off, like ‘bucket of vomit’ and he’ll sit for ages on the excuse of ‘brooding’ while he comes up with fresh ammo.)
That is usually. Then there are the days like today. We get an outbreak of hostility at least once a week. Anything will set them off. Angel holding on to me for what Giles will think is too long while I pass on a visual, Giles keeping me company on my morning walk. I never did ask what today’s bust up was about. I’m not interested.
I was so sick of being talked at by all of them ... Wes, Giles, Angel ... when we came back from Sunnydale, I stopped talking back and I stopped listening.
How were the visions shared with Angel? Was sex involved? Is Angel in love with me? Am I in love with Angel? Could I ever love Giles? A cup of tea? How many children do I want? Is sunshine necessary to a healthy relationship? If I could, would I walk away? Are you comfortable? More tea?
I am so relieved Wes and Giles didn’t get a whiff of “The Bite”.
And now it’s like they each want a separate half of me. Giles wants a sexually-charged earth mother and Angel seems to think I can be a friendly-friendly Marie to his Donny. God that’s scary.
I took a cue from Angel’s ‘walls’ and began building some of my own. A wall to protect me and you. A wall to hide behind and ignore the world out there, a place I can be me. I’ll probably end up with some strange psychosis, but hey, whatever helps me cope, right?
Now and then I blow up and have a tantrum over nothing, a forgotten message or misplaced coffee-cup. “Must be the hormones”. The guys buy it every time.
Giles has been talking about going back to England to sort out the business stuff he got going before. I don’t want him to go, I’ll miss him but the peace will be good. So far it is talk, he keeps putting it off. But if he is going he should go before you arrive, right? Otherwise he’ll miss out on precious time with you!
Giles - I love him, I do, but even when I’m smiling up at him and everything is, you know, nice - I can see a blurred Angel out of the corner of my eye. Never think I don’t love your father. He’s a wonderful man, but he isn’t Angel.
***
“There’s so much I love about you, but you aren’t...”“Please, Cordelia, don’t tell me I need to be dead.”
“You aren’t Angel.”
***
Why do we love the way we do? Giles I trust, implicitly. Angel, as much as I want to, I can’t trust - not with the big stuff - because he is what he is, but I can’t help loving him.If I loved by choice I would be in love with Giles.
I squashed down all my Angel feelings when they went beyond caring and friendship. I thought I would be safe. I’m a sensible girl, right? I know the dangers better than anyone else. Enjoy the eye candy but no licking. Except I did. I’m not saying I fell in love with him because we made love but, oh wow, did that lower my defences!
***
“A definition?”“Yes, if you were asked to describe being in love, Cordy, falling in love.”
“I don’t have a heap of experience.”
“Neither do I, that’s why I.... just wanted to compare notes.”
“And it’s different for different people and...”
“But what was it like for you?”
“Right. I wanted it to be strawberries and cream but it was cough syrup.”
“Cough syrup? Um, I don’t get it.”
“Cough syrup - Mom tells you it’s a lovely strawberry flavour and it will do you good and you swallow and it was - ugh and made you choke up and it didn’t even work.”
“That’s love?”
“Xander.”
“Oh, yeah.”
“What about you?”
“Heaven and hell. Joy and eternal torment.”
“No prize for guessing that one! Sounds like fun.”
“It’s all I know.”
“Hmm - I don’t want a repeat of my experience - do you?”
“No. You said different people love in different ways, which is true and I think a new love can be distinct from your old love.”
“If you could, how would you choose to love?”
“Well, I’ve been thinking and reading and... you could start out friends with...someone and later on add a bit of love and let it blend and grow... sort of ferment, mature.”
“But you can’t choose, can you?”
“No. No, you can’t.”
“Kind of sneaks up on you, huh?”
“Mmmm.”
***
I think he loves me. Really. I can see it sometimes in his eyes before he has time to look away or shift to dull, empty-eye mode and I can hear it in his concern and I see it in Giles’ glare and Wesley’s worried frown. And there was that talk we had right before Wes came rushing in with his “Buffy’s dead” news which could have been after-sex glow.I can’t be satisfied because all of a sudden I want more and I know I can’t have more.
Yep. After-sex speak.
It’s too hard. I just want to hide.
***
“High blood pressure? Dear lord, sit down, Cordelia.”“Borderline, okay? He’s given me a week to relax and if it is still up next week, I’m on medication.”
“Cord, the book says you should avoid medicines during pregnancy, is...”
“The doctor knows what he is doing, you twit. Cordelia, do you want to put your feet up?”
“No, Giles - look, if you two would quit with the Odd Couple routine, I wouldn’t have as much to get stressed about, right? So knock it off.”
“Sure, Cordy. I’ll just gag him. Would that help? No, you’d still have to look at him. Medication sounds the way to go.”
“Git.”
“Ugh - I’m going home and I’m not coming back for... days! I don’t want to see or hear from either of you. Understood?”
“Now see what you’ve done?”
“Visions? Cordelia?”
“We get a vision, come and see me. But don’t you dare try and pull an “oh, sorry, must have been a headache” stunt. Got it?”
***
So I am sitting here at home for a few days. Catching up on writing to you and trying to relax. I miss them and I bet they are mssing you! Did I already tell you that for the past week you have been the star turn in afternoon entertainment at the Hyperion Hotel? It’s the only time your father and Angel are remotely civil to each other.I have a late afternoon nap on the couch in the office. I try to have a nap. I lie on the couch and close my eyes. It’s the best I get. But you know that don’t you, because that is precisely when you decide to get physical. As soon as I kick off my shoes, you’re warming up for your somersault and aerobics routine.
The guys wait for five minutes then I can hear the door click. They ‘tiptoe’ in, each move a chair over in front of the couch and sit there, eyes glued on you. They love it when you do something impressive like a scissor-kick and your little foot pokes out my tummy. That usually earns a muffled ‘aww’. I can just picture them holding up those old-fashioned scorecards.
I thought about annoying them by wearing a big bulky top instead of my stretchy stuff but, hell, it’s actually sweet and, like I said, they are civil. They don’t want to ‘wake’ me, I guess.
***
Crap. I can’t do this anymore. Who am I kidding, I’ve never been able to do it.I’ve fallen in love with her and my best option is to steer her towards some other guy but the only candidate is the piss fart downstairs. I know I only detest him because he is in love with Cordelia and I know she loves him... So? Problem solved. Give them room and time and then she’ll be safe and I’ll be safe and we’ll all be safe because that’s what everyone, including me, is worried about, isn’t it?
The above is the common sense and logical approach. I’ve never been hot on common sense.
I'm good at walking away... but I can’t, not while the visions are being split between us. I could be selfish, drive the ass wipe away, have Cordy to myself to look at, talk to, listen to, touch everyday without letting her know how I really feel. Geeze Angel, get yourself a dog. I can brood over her and ... fuck, that way lies pain.
Any way lies pain.
Plan C. Compartmentalisation. Big word. Brick her in behind one of your walls so you don’t see her, smell her, hear her, feel her and you can carry on as usual. But I did this already, a few months ago when I realised what was happening. Fine, so make the walls bigger, stronger, higher, thicker.
Done. Wall her in.
Tomorrow.
On the other hand, I could go visit Lorne. What for? He’s going to say what? “Angelcakes you have a lonely undead life ahead of you. Love? Did Liberace wear tweed?” Redemption, atonement, humanity - a long rocky road - if ever.
She’s been looking strained, tired and now there’s something wrong with her blood pressure. I’ve got to curb my tongue around the slime maggot. Only a couple more months to go.
***
“I’m having a problem seeing to the bottom of the page, why don’t we hit ‘refresh’?”‘Huh? Oh, you want me to sing? I have to? Lorne, I know you don’t need me to...”
“I don’t always get the whole picture.”
“Is there anything to do with love or Cordelia? Anything?”
“Cordelight? She’s your link to humanity.”
“So they keep saying, but...”
“Well, the boys upstairs know you need repetition before you get the clue.”
“What aren’t you telling me? Come on Lorne or you’ll be wishing yourself back on that lice pile.”
“Tsk, tsk, violence and threats, the way to my heart. Okay. The blood of an innocent.”
“The blood of an innocent? My aura comes in cliches?”
“Don’t knock it. You want haiku? Wait, wait... this does have to do with brown eyes...
“Cordelia is young, but she’s not an innocent, not in the classic sense - I mean, ‘innocent’ you’d think child and... oh, fuck. No. Look... again.”
“I’m looking and I don’t like.”
“Lorne...”
“You... bloodied face... a baby... dead...”
Part 14
I am not looking forward to leaving either of you, but the time is approaching when it will be impossible to drag myself away. All going well, I will return four weeks before your due date. I am begging you now not to consider an early arrival! I need to be here to coach Cordelia through her breathing - she is wont to skimp on the huffs - and, well - for dozens of reasons, I long to see you arrive in this world.
Your mother isn’t her happiest at the moment. Angel has been withdrawn, broody and outright selfish for at least two weeks. Sulking in his room and rarely venturing out unless there is a vision or he is needed on an investigation. He rarely speaks to Cordelia.
No-one knows why. You would think he could offer some explanation - at least to Cordelia, but no, the git wallows and wades in guilt and gloom as though he were in training for a personal best.
I shouldn’t complain because while he is glooming, he is leaving Cordelia alone. I can go away and not wonder if he is pawing at her or mooning over her like the love-sick prat he is. Wesley isn’t too concerned. He is putting the withdrawn silence down to a belated Buffy reaction. He may be right.
So, little one, you be good for your mother. Keep her safe and make sure she smiles at least once every hour!
***
I’m sorry I haven’t written to you this week, sweetheart, but I do think about you, all the time. You are the only person capable now of lifting me, making me smile and I love to curl up and hold you close at night, more than I can say.Your daddy and I went to some classes to learn how to get you out of that warm comfy tummy. Lots of totally unflattering huffing and puffing. Daddy wants you to come out ‘naturally’ which is another word for ‘excruciating pain’. I’m going for the gas. Sorry sweetie, I’ll never be an earth mother. I’ll walk around a lot and a soothing aromatic herbal bath sounds great and Daddy is welcome to rub my back with lavender oil and shove crystals into my hands but that’s as earthy as it will get. The crystals might be a handy missile for when I get pissed with his chanting ‘breathe, Cordelia, breathe’ at me. Joking. Sort of.
Daddy has gone away for a few weeks. When he was in England earlier this year he started up a magic shop back in his home town and now he wants to sell up and settle all his English stuff before you arrive. Then he won’t have to go away again. He didn’t want to go, but now we are so much closer to you popping out, it was now or he’d miss out on a few weeks of you later on. I miss him.
He’s left me with two long lists of baby names. On the one list are names he ‘cannot tolerate’ and the other is a list of family names that he thinks would be ‘suitable’ and he’d like me to ‘consider’ them. You had to know that the names I like are on his ‘cannot tolerate’ list, didn’t you? Oh well, if needs be I’m happy to play the ‘you want to do the pain? then you can pick the name!” card. I know your name, he’ll just have to get used to it!
Okay, that’s sounds mean. I’m not in a very good mood, sorry, sweetie. I’ll pick a ‘family’ name from the list for your middle name. Would you prefer elegant, pretentious or gross? Elegant, right? Elizabeth or Edmund. Done.
I’ve been avoiding writing about Angel because, well, I’ll get upset. Everything happens at once. Why is that? The Powers are worried I might get bored or horror - I might be happy for more than five minutes at a time??? I thought it was Angel who wasn’t allowed to be happy?
He’s been quiet for too long. This isn’t a 24 hour brood. Is it Darla again or Buffy? He won’t say. I’ve tried to coax, bully and plead but he says he is fine, he’s working through some stuff - he has a lot on his mind - he needs time and space.
When he does speak to me I can tell that he is making an effort to be polite. He’s holding back, I can sense that. Like he’s about to burst. I don’t feel threatened but I check my stake every day. How’s that? I’m in love with a guy that I consider staking? ‘Cept I wouldn’t be staking Angel, would I? Anyway, I don’t know anymore if I could do it. Not anymore.
***
I’ve been back to see Lorne, I don’t know how many times but it is always the same. He can’t see beyond the blood, the curtain of blood - other than there will be changes.Christ, what an understatement. If I kill Cordelia’s child there will be changes? Or beforehand? Do I lose control, lose my soul? Why can’t he see? I’ll stake myself, that’s one change, before I let anything happen to the baby or Cordelia.
I’m in a funk, shit scared.
I close my eyes and all I see is red. Eyeballs full of red, oozing blood. Filling under my eyelids, seeping out the corners however hard I squeeze them closed, running into my skull, down my nose, flooding and roaring out of my ears. Tasting the beautiful sweet bloodied purity, corrupting the incorruptible until I gag and choke as it streams into my craw and I wake wiping away tears and vomiting a putrid nothingness.
I am too terrified to sleep.
I wish Cordelia would go away, leave but I know she won’t.
I need to sleep, to forget.
I’ll go. Leave LA. Fuck the visions - as soon as Giles gets back from England. I have to stay until he's here, I can’t leave her alone. Alone? Huh, you won’t go near her - she is alone!
I don’t write in the baby’s journal anymore. Dear baby, I am destined to murder you and bathe in your blood. What a sick joke. Sick, sick, fucking sick.
I stay in here or down in the basement. I don’t go near them unless Wes or Gunn yells at me to go kill some demon, some monster. Soon it might be me they are calling monster. Disgusting, horrendous savage, grind me until I’m gone. To feel nothing, not care, sounds good.
Fuck, what a load of muttered ramblings. If I write them in here she might read them, one day. I want her to know - knowing too much isn’t good and it is. By knowing, I will not kill but by knowing, I will end. Fuck you, Angel, full of shit.
Hold her close, smell her hair, breathe her life. What was my dream? Waking with her moist breath on my shoulder, reaching out for her warm body...
A luscious warm, red body...
A dead body in red...
A dead baby, all red...
***
He totally stunned me this morning. I think I gave him a jolt too because he spoke to me! Angel spoke to me! I bumped into him coming into the office. It was almost a conversation and what he said - God, if it wasn’t all so impossible I’d be over the moon! I’m sure it was real, surreal, but real.
***
“Cordelia? I didn’t see you...”“Hi. How are you?”
“Fine, great, not good.”
“I noticed. Can I help?”
“It isn’t anything I can stop... no.”
“But...”
“I’m in love with you, okay, I really ... love ... you ... So, I can’t do this.”
“You do? Do what? Angel?”
“I have to go.”
***
Every girls dream. To be told by the man she loves that he is in love with her? Except it’s kind of a dead end now. There’s nothing for us besides torment and pain. I always knew that. It didn’t stop me.Every girl’s dream.
It isn’t how I want it to be. Everything is so much easier in my dreams. We can get married and make love and have children and its all normal. Yeah, in your dreams, Cord!
Is there a way for us? I don’t see it. If it weren’t for the visions I would be long gone. I think. That’s what I say when I am down. Leave him? No way.
***
She came to me tonight. I thought she was in my bloody dream but she was real. She sat by me and wept over me. And I let her. I didn’t open my eyes. She held my hand and a tear fell on my skin, boiling lead, but I didn’t look. I can’t look at her. But she held my hand and I could smell her and hear her and I wanted to pull on her hand, drag her into bed and press her alongside my body ... until I noticed the double heart beat - her’s strong and fearful, the other rapid and fearless.That is when I looked up at her and while my eyes pleaded with her to love me, my mouth told her to get out.
Shit, earlier today I told her I’m in love with her, I can’t believe I was such a fool. Ran into her outside the office door and I was so shaken I told her I loved her! She’s hardly here anymore. Spends her days pining for Giles at her apartment. I didn’t give her much of a chance to reply before I ran back up here and locked myself in. Maybe I was dreaming that too. I hope so.
Pathetic, melodramatic tripe. Get over yourself, Angel.
Don’t believe everything you are foretold. Why can’t Lorne’s reading be wrong? Skewed? Totally untrue? Misleading? He’s been wrong before.
I can’t take the risk.
***
When I tried to sneak into his room and watch him sleep, I was caught. He woke up and told me to go away. I longed to crawl in beside him, hold him and be held, to feel safe. He growled at me to go. I should accept him for what he is. Accept it and forget how much I love him. It should be easy to stop loving him now, shouldn’t it? The way he is? I don’t believe he is doing this to me on purpose. There’s something wrong, there must be.Once upon a time, when he was in a sunny mood a few weeks ago he literally scooped me up and twirled me around the floor to some tuneless tune that he one-two-three’d, one-two-three’d to ... and that was his way of touching me to get the pictures to a vision we had just had! When he’d had enough he smacked his lips against my forehead and he was off to fight whatever the nasty of the day was.
Not now. Now I get a cold, distant touch to the elbow or shoulder. As quick as possible. He used to take his time, now it is a tap and he’s gone.
Is it because he is in love with me? He feels he has to avoid me? I have to talk to him, sort out this mess. Loving him was always painful, but now the pain is unbearable.
***
I’ve been punching the bag in the basement. Helps clear my head - for a few minutes. I imagine Lorne’s green head on the bag. Somewhere, I know it isn’t his fault. It would be good to know what the PTB looked like then I’d picture them on the other end of my kicks and punches. I used to imagine them as a kind of triumvirate - Lon Cheney, Eleanor Roosevelt and Winston Churchill, but, you see, I have a problem upper-cutting Eleanor. Call me soft.Hell, this last paragraph almost reads as though I was sane, bordeline sane, okay? When did I write that? It’s a relief to know I’m lucid some of the time.
Should I warn her or will she panic? Like me? I ask myself the same question every day. Why have the Powers bound us if they intend to destroy us? If they want to, then destroy me, why try and do this to Cordelia? I get so furious and I boil up but... tomorrow, tomorrow I can leave.
Listen to you, pretentious schmuck. Sit up and smell the blood. Lick your lips, wipe the drips from your chin, suck them from your hand, devour the newfound life.
I ache for her.
***
Hey, kiddo, what was going on this morning? You were a pain - literally! Cramps and jumping up and down on my bladder? What are you up to? Behave and be patient - only another four weeks to go and Daddy will be home tomorrow.I’m not having a good day. The washer died after breakfast and I am running out of my meagre range of exclusive what-stretches-enough-to-still-fit clothes. I’ll take them over to the Hyperion later on, use the washer and drier in the basement. I want to catch up on the books anyway. Take my mind off you, Daddy and, you know, that other stuff.
It isn't because I want to see Angel. I don't. Not at all. He'll be asleep.
Oh, for the days when clothes were a major worry.
Continue on...