Title: The Cycle of Shanshu
Author: Illusion
Posted: 5-19-2002
Email: alliekat17@hotmail.com
Rating: PG 15 for angst
Category:
Content:
Summary: Wesley translated Angel’s prophecy to mean that he was going to become human once he’d fulfilled his destiny, right? Well, he only came to that conclusion when he realized that the Proto-Bantu regarded ‘Shanshu’, or life and death, as the same thing. It’s all one big never ending cycle. So who says that Angel’s reward ends at becoming human again? Why was he such a scoundrel when he was first human? And exactly what drew Darla to him?
Spoilers: End of Season Two ‘ANGEL’, and Season Five ‘BtVS’
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 buzzing around in my head for a little while, and I had to get it out. It’s my first story without a ‘happily ever after’ kind of ending, so hopefully it turns out alright. And let’s just pretend that Darla *was* risen from the dead, but Angel staked her before she arose from the undead. So that means he didn’t fire the gang, and didn’t kill all the lawyers. After that, all the major things happen, but no trip to Pylea, and thus, no Fred. Sorry Fred, but I live in Australia, and I haven’t seen any of Season 3 yet. I don’t know enough about you to write you into this story. In the Buffy-verse, I’m just going to pretend that they managed to stop Glory before the portal opened, and Buffy never died, because I don’t yet know how she was brought back exactly, only that she was in heaven. And I really don’t know much about any kind of heart conditions, so just go with it, and I hope I don’t offend anyone out there. Just remember, this is only a story, and I’m sorry if this offends anyone, but if so it’s done entirely unintentionally.
Feedback: I’d love to know what you think of this one, so feel free to send whatever feedback - good *and* bad. This is my first story posted, so I’d like to know if it’s worth finishing the other stuff I’m working on and posting it. I’m thinking of doing a sequel to this story, so let me know if it’s worth it, and if anyone out there has any ideas I might use for it, or if this would be better to remain a stand-alone.
Thanks/Dedication:Prologue
Cordelia sat alone on the sofa in the foyer of the Hyperion hotel, a glamour magazine open on her lap, but the words remained unread. Her eyes drifted over the room, not really catching anything, her mind preoccupied with listening for sounds of movement from the rooms above.
Wesley and Gunn had gone home for the night, after they’d all gotten back from taking care of one of Cordelia’s visions. It had been an easy fight, and Angel had sent them all home for a night off, before going upstairs to clean himself up from the couple of wounds he’d gotten in the fight, and vampire dust.
Only Cordelia hadn’t left.
She had her back to the staircase that led up to the rooms of the old hotel, one of which Angel had made his own, and so didn’t notice Angel standing at the top of the stairs, watching her in confusion and curiosity for a moment. It was obvious that she was waiting for him, her body language agitated and uncertain, and her mind couldn’t focus on anything, occupied elsewhere.
So much so, that she didn’t even remember that, as a vampire, he could move about without making a sound that she could hear with human hearing. Angel had sensed her presence in the hotel the whole time, knowing that she hadn’t left with the two men, which had left him concerned. Her unease and uncertainty only made him more worried.
“Cordelia,” he called softly, so as not to startle her.
Even so, the young woman jumped slightly, the magazine slipping unnoticed off her lap and onto the floor with a dull echoing thud, only serving to emphasize the immense size of the building, and the immense silence. “Hey,” she said weakly, trying to force her typical brilliant smile to her face to hide her nervousness, but it didn’t work.
“Are you okay?” Angel asked her with genuine concern, Cordelia’s eyes following him as he made his way down the stairs to join her, but avoiding meeting his gaze.
“Actually… that’s what I wanted to ask you,” she informed him quietly, her eyes finally meeting his as he sat on the edge of the coffee table in front of her. “I… I’m worried about you,” Cordelia admitted softly.
“Look, if this is about how I acted over the whole Darla thing--” he began to say reassuringly.
But Cordelia shook her head, cutting off his words. “It’s not,” she said, then scrunched up her nose in thought, a look Angel couldn’t help but smile slightly at. His seer looked so adorably innocent when she got that look… “And I guess it is, kinda,” she amended, confusing him. “But it’s more got to do with Shanshu.”
At her softly spoken words, Angel winced inwardly, but his own uncertainty must have been visible to Cordelia anyway, because she nodded, her eyes roaming over his face, before catching his gaze again. In that instant, Angel knew she was aware something was wrong, no matter how much he had tried to hide it from all of them. But it had come to the point where he could hide nothing from Cordelia, since she knew him so well. “It’s… it’s nothing,” he told her quietly, turning his face away from her and breaking her gaze from his, knowing she wouldn’t believe his words for a second.
Instead of the protests he had expected from her, Cordelia just nodded tightly, the whole time her eyes staying on his face, but he didn’t look back at her. “Okay,” she whispered, then forced a gentle smile. “Because you know, I care about you. I was just worried about you, but I guess it’s nothing,” she said lightly, letting it drop. She knew she couldn’t force it out of him, and she didn’t want to. Cordelia gave him another soft sweet smile as she stood from the sofa and scooped up her magazine and bag, preparing to finally leave. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning then,” she commented with fake cheerfulness, turning and heading to the door.
She’d almost reached it, her hand outstretched for the handle, when Angel’s soft word caught her by surprise. “Don’t,” he said, barely loud enough for her to hear. Even as she turned back to look at him, she wasn’t quite sure she *had* heard anything, and for a moment, she thought she’d been imagining things, because Angel was still sitting where he had been when she’d stood up, and his face was still averted from her. She shrugged and was about to turn back to the door when Angel looked up, finally meeting her gaze again. “Please stay,” he murmured. “I… I need to…”
“Talk?” Cordelia asked hopefully, silently relieved when he gave her a mute nod. She slowly walked back over to where he still sat, returning to her seat in front of him and placing her bag on the floor. She didn’t speak, waiting for him to do so.
For several long moments, Angel was silent though, his gaze wandering around the room, occasionally returning to her face, before flickering away again, not knowing where to start. He was glad that Cordelia didn’t pressure him though, understandingly and compassionately waiting for him to find it in himself to open up to her. Over the past several months, he’d gradually been doing that, slowly able to talk to this amazing young brunette, to share his feelings and thoughts with her. Every time, she’d been understanding, listening intently to whatever he wanted to tell her, and never pressuring more out of him. But he had found it surprising, and even a little scary, that he’d been able to speak so honestly and easily to her, and a little more gradually, his doubts and fears about opening up to her about certain things had disappeared too. Cordelia never judged him, and was never afraid, or repulsed, or angry, with anything he spoke to her about.
Finally, Angel took a deep unneeded breath, catching and holding her gaze this time, before he spoke. “I’m afraid of Shanshu, Cordelia. I’m afraid of becoming human again.”
While the thought had occurred to her, Cordelia was still surprised by the words. “Why?” she asked him softly, letting him know that she was here for him, and she didn’t think he was stupid for feeling that way. She could see the hesitation and uncertainty written in his features, though he tried to hide them. He tried, but he could never hide anything he was feeling from her, even if the guys fell for it. “After all this time, everything you’ve suffered, you deserve to be human again,” she tried to reassure him.
Angel smiled at her kind words, but they had an alternative meaning in his mind, and his smile took on a slightly bitter quality which only confused and concerned Cordelia more. “Yeah, I guess I do,” Angel commented dryly, aware that she hadn’t meant any unkindness though.
Cordelia had noticed something flash in his eyes at her words - doubt, fear, bitterness, hope, distress - but she still didn’t understand where the feelings might be coming from. All she knew was that he’d been like this practically since Wesley had correctly translated his prophecy, once the initial shock and happiness had worn off. Then, it had merely gotten worse when Darla turned up, especially when he hadn’t been able to help her, and had to stake her after Drusilla had turned her again. Still, she had heard the self-loathing in his voice as well, the same tone he got when he was talking about all the pain and suffering he had caused, and how he deserved it back in return as punishment.
All of a sudden, he was thinking of his reward as another punishment.
“Wesley said it was a cycle,” Angel commented almost absently, his gaze drifting. “I guess it never ends until it’s final,” he said cryptically, not making any sense to her.
“What is?” Cordelia asked softly.
“Death,” he told her simply, startling her.
Cordelia’s brow furrowed in confusion, and his gaze turned back to hers as she slowly shook her head. “Wesley said you were going to *live*, remember? Not *die*. He was wrong about that,” she told him fervently, but she knew he was already aware of that.
“I’m not so sure he *was* wrong anymore, Cordy,” Angel whispered. “Becoming human means becoming mortal again. It means, eventually, I’ll die. Again. This time for the final time.”
They’d all known that of course. Mortality was the reminder that you could, and *would*, eventually die. She didn’t believe for one second that Angel was scared of growing old and dying though. There was more.
As if to prove her thoughts right, Angel continued, surprising her when one of his hands slipped inside her smaller one, his thumb gentling stroking the soft skin of the back of her hand, and his gaze dropping from hers again, staring almost intently at their joined hands between them so as to avoid looking at her. She wasn’t awkward or repulsed by his motion, but more concerned, feeling the comfort he sought. She tenderly interlaced their fingers, holding his hand tighter in solace, and waited for him to speak again.
“I… I guess I wigged when we found out Darla was alive again. Really *alive*. Human,” he rambled slightly, but she smiled briefly that he would use the word ‘wigged’ at all. “At first, it just made me believe more that one day, I could be human too. That I could be forgiven, and worthy of forgiveness. But then… when I found out that she was sick… That… that her illness from when she was first human had come back too… And then when she finally began to hope to live, even if only for a few months or so, Drusilla turned her again… I just started thinking… How am I supposed to save myself if I couldn’t even save her?”
Cordelia shifted to be sitting on the edge of the sofa, closer to Angel, her knees between his. “That’s different though, Angel. She was already sick when she was first alive. She’d lost hope to live then. It wasn’t your fault you couldn’t help her, because she didn’t want help. How could you give that help if she couldn’t accept it?” she reassured him.
Rather than answer her, Angel continued, at first sounding like he was talking about something completely different. “Do you remember when I told you about how Darla turned me?” he asked, his gaze raising to meet hers once more, watching her nod instantly. “She’d been watching me for a week or so. She told me after,” he told her needlessly again. “She’d wanted me because she could picture what kind of vampire I’d be. How vicious I would be. Brutal. Evil… There was another reason she was drawn to me though,” he admitted, finally telling her something she didn’t already know from when he’d first told her. “The same reason I wasted my life…”
He stopped for a moment, not hesitant to tell her, just trying to work out *how* to tell her, and Cordelia still didn’t push him or hurry him. She knew he’d either tell her when he was ready for her to know, and when he was ready to tell her, or he’d simply stop. Either way, she wouldn’t demand it from him. It was up to him whether she knew, and the only thing she would do was comfort him, and reassure him that if he ever wanted to talk, if he ever wanted her to know these things about his life, and his unlife, that she would always be there for him, and be there to listen.
Cordelia realized it had been a few minutes since either of them had last spoken, and she tightened her hold on his hand in comfort, absently aware that his thumb was still tenderly stroking the back of her hand. “It’s okay, Angel. You don’t have to--” she began to tell him, but he cut her off.
“I was already dying, Cordy,” he whispered hoarsely, his gaze holding hers intensely. Cordelia was practically winded by the impact of his words, and it was another minute or two before she could even think again. “Darla’s heart condition… I… I had a similar one… I was only twenty-six, and I’d already had a few extremely mild heart-attacks… That’s why I was such a scoundrel when I was young. When I was human. I didn’t care, because I *knew* I was going to die soon. Everyone else, knew they might die someday. I knew I was going to die within a year or so… Maybe less…” Angel finished, his voice barely audible.
The entire time he held her gaze, watching the silent tears that he felt burning in his own eyes, form in hers and slip down her cheeks. “No…” she whispered in a distressed voice. Stubbornly, she shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut as if to block out what he’d told her, not wanting it to be true, but her tears still fell.
Angel reached his free hand up to her cheek, lovingly brushing her tears away with the pad of his thumb, even as his own began to fall. Hers only increased, able to see his own distress, and yet his overwhelming concern for hers that superseded any thought he had for himself . “Darla saw it in me…” he told her, speaking barely loud enough for her to hear. “It was another thing that drew her to me… When I told her to show me her world… I… I think I *knew* what I was asking… I think, deep down, I knew what she was… I’d heard of her kind before… But I had nothing to lose, Cordy… Just an overbearing unloving father, a few months… Even that wasn’t guaranteed… But Cordelia, Darla’s condition came back when she became human again… What if… What if mine does too?” he asked her, knowing she couldn’t even begin to answer him. He wasn’t expecting her to have an answer.
Cordelia shook her head more vehemently, as if that could stop the likely possibility that what Angel was saying would come to pass. That, when he became human again, he would also become sick again. That he’d begin to live again, only to die soon after by a cruel trick of fate. Again. Now, when he finally had something to lose. Friends. Family. Love.
Suddenly, Cordelia took her hand from his, then flung her arms around his neck, clutching him close as his tears began to fall as steadily as hers. She immediately felt his arms wrap around her waist, holding her tightly, almost clinging to her. “No… It won’t happen… It’s not going to happen… You’re going to be human… You’re going to be fine… You’re not going to die…” Cordelia babbled desperately.
If only either of them could believe her words.
Part 1
It had been six years since Angel had spoken with Cordelia about his fears, and in that time they’d spoken about it often. No-one knew for certain when Angel would achieve his humanity, not even Wesley who had translated the prophecy. Over the years though, the more they spoke about what could - and more than likely would - happen, the more they got used to it.
Whereas six years ago they had broken down in each others arms, desperately wanting for it not to happen, now Angel almost welcomed it. Of course, Angel didn’t want to die. He would have preferred the chance to live a long normal life, maybe even have a family, children, grow old with someone, and pass on once he’d fully lived his life, like anyone else dreamed. But when he truly thought about it, and thought about how long he’d already existed, maybe his reward was to pass on quickly. To leave behind all the pain and suffering he’d experienced. To be released. And in a way, that’s what he wanted. He wanted the peace that would come afterwards, and after everything he’d been through, in life and unlife, Cordelia knew he deserved the chance for peace.
Neither wanted him to die, but both understood, and Cordelia accepted, that he more than likely would die soon after Shanshu, and that he would welcome it.
Cordelia had promised Angel that she wouldn’t breathe a word about any of it to Gunn and Wesley, or even anyone in Sunnydale. Both Wesley and Gunn still believed that once Angel achieved his humanity, he’d go back to Buffy. What they didn’t realize, was that Angel had moved on, just as Buffy had, even if she was still single at the moment. They had loved one another once, many years ago, but they had simply been each other’s first love. It hadn’t been strong enough to last. It had been powerful in its own rights, but not enough to be true love. Just the first. It had taken a while for them both to realize that themselves, and accept that after everything they had been through to be together, they weren’t *meant* to be together.
Still, Angel didn’t want anyone knowing what he had shared with Cordelia, at least until they knew for certain what Angel’s future held. There was a slim chance, that Angel would be completely fine when he regained his humanity, but neither he nor Cordelia deluded themselves into hoping for that too much.
So over the years, while they had spoken to each other, about Angel’s future and many other things, becoming closer friends than ever, their other friends had remained oblivious to what had once been their fears, but was now their acceptance. Once Angel regained his humanity, Cordelia had promised to go with him to a doctor, so they would know once and for all if his illness had returned as well.
That’s why Cordelia currently sat beside Angel in Dr. Julia Hoskins office in St. Matthews Hospital, where only several years ago Cordelia had been lying helpless under the onslaught of her vision coma in the neuropsychiatric unit. Angel had regained his humanity when they, and the Sunnydale gang, had averted an apocalypse a couple of weeks before. There’d been a small celebration, courtesy of Wes and Gunn, and the Scooby Gang had all been happy for him as well. But after the initial celebrations were over, Cordelia and Angel had managed to slip away from the group under the guise that they were going for a walk in the sunlight, and had gone to the hospital for the all important tests that would decide how long Angel’s new future as a human really was.
Dr. Hoskins had called last night and asked them to come in as she finally had the results to Angel’s tests, so now they sat in her office, opposite the beautiful young woman behind her desk, Angel’s file open in front of her. Dr. Hoskins took a deep breath, before lifting her gaze from the folder to Angel and Cordelia in front of her. “I’m not going to sugarcoat this for you, because you’ve already told me you’re prepared for the worst. The tests found that Angel has a fatal heart condition, and the muscles of his heart and the nerves and tissue surrounding it are already scarred from a number of heart-attacks. Too damaged to repair or fix with a transplant,” she informed them quietly.
Seemingly calmly, Angel just nodded, but his hand found Cordelia’s beside him, interlacing their fingers and holding tightly to her hand, his jaw set tight.
There were several moments of silence in the room where the doctor gave them time to allow the bad news to sink in, before she continued. “Angel’s heart is weak, and it can’t handle its job properly, especially if Angel becomes extremely agitated, upset or worn out. In those situations, the extra strain is too much, and it fails. Without treatment, the prognosis isn’t good. Possibly six months, eight months tops. With treatment, only another one or two, but I have to admit it’s not worth it. You’d be sacrificing about seven relatively good months for maybe ten painful unhealthy ones, and you’d be relying heavily on medication every day.”
“No treatment,” Angel told her without hesitation, shaking his head. “I don’t want anything more getting in the way of spending my remaining time with the people I care about.”
Dr. Hoskins nodded, a small smile on her face from his loving words towards his friends and family. She’d only known Angel, and Cordelia, for just over a week and a half, but she already knew they’d known and accepted the worst, and Cordelia was devoted to staying by him and supporting him the entire way. Angel just wanted to use what little time he had left as best as possible. “All I can say then is to eat healthy, try not to wear yourself out too much, and stay relatively calm. The only other thing I can do for you is prescribe a few medications that will keep you calm and hopefully prevent severe attacks that would lessen the time you have. Sort of like anti-adrenalin. If you find that you’re over-emotional or tired, at risk of an attack, the medication will help calm you by slowing your heartbeat so that it doesn’t fail on you. But the attacks can come at any time.”
“Thank you,” Angel told her sincerely. “I just want to get back home and do something with the time I have left now.”
“I understand,” Dr. Hoskins said warmly. “The medication will help prevent some minor attacks, but there will be frequent trips to hospital for more severe ones. Trust me when I tell you that I’ll do everything in my power to keep you comfortable and alive as long as possible.”
Angel smiled genuinely at her, squeezing Cordelia’s hand gently. “I believe you,” he assured her.
The doctor smiled in return and quickly wrote out a few prescriptions for him. Cordelia and Angel thanked her again, and she wished Angel good luck, before the two left her office silently, their hands still intertwined.
Part 2
“So…” Cordelia began weakly, her sentence trailing off when she realized she didn’t know what else to say.
“Yeah…” Angel murmured, sitting on his bed across from where she sat cross-legged near the headboard. “So…” he echoed her quietly, not knowing where to start. Now that they knew he didn’t have much longer, so many thoughts were going through his head, he didn’t know where to begin to sort them out. One thing he knew was that he wouldn’t waste time with ‘what ifs’. They wouldn’t help. All that he knew was that he wanted to make the most of the time he *did* have, and that he wanted to spend it without the ever constant reminder that he didn’t have much of it left. “I don’t want anyone else to know, Cordelia,” he finally said, catching her gaze.
Rather than protest, Cordelia merely nodded. She’d expected him to say that, knowing he wanted to spend his remaining time as if everything was normal. He just wanted to be with his friends and family like everything was fine, and not have them always *pretending* everything was. He didn’t want sympathy, or pity, or awkwardness. He and Cordelia could know and accept it, but they knew the others might not get it. They might fight it. They might not understand that Angel wanted this, in a way. That he deserved the peace he would finally have. If they didn’t know, they wouldn’t treat him any differently from usual, which was how he wanted it to be. He didn’t want it to be fake. He wanted to spend genuine unhindered time with his friends while he still could, and Cordelia wanted that for him too. “Okay,” she said simply, agreeing with him wholly.
Angel nodded, looking away again, left once more with the empty silence they’d been sitting in for ten minutes before. They’d returned to the Hyperion hotel earlier, pretending nothing was wrong, and Gunn and Wesley hadn’t suspected anything. Both men had left a quarter of an hour ago, but Cordelia had remained with him so they could talk again about what they were going to do now. They’d been sitting on his bed since then, until Cordelia had finally spoken.
“You’re allowed to be scared, Angel,” she said softly, getting a bittersweet smile from him. “I mean, I know you’ve accepted all this, and in the end everything will work out, but you’re allowed to be scared now. We have no idea what’s going to happen.”
He looked up at her again, smiling genuinely again that she knew him so well. She offered him a reassuring smile in return before scooting a little closer to him, taking his hand in hers tightly once more. “I just… You’re right. We don’t know anything beyond now. I’m scared about a lot of things. How the others will react when they finally find out. How long I really do have. What will happen when I have an attack. What will happen after I… you know…” he trailed off quietly.
She only nodded understandingly, holding his hand tighter. There was nothing she could do to calm his fears, because she didn’t know anything more than he did about those things. No-one did. There was one thing she could tell him though. “Angel, no matter what, I promise you I’ll always be here for you. I’ll be by your side through all of this. Every checkup. Every trip to hospital. Every fear. Every breakdown. Everything,” she vowed.
Angel’s eyes glistened with unshed tears at her loving words, but there was a deeper pain in his eyes now, a fear worse than what he’d already admitted to her. “That’s what scares me the most, Cordy,” he confessed, holding her gaze, despite her confusion. “I know you’ll be there for me for all of this, and I’m beyond grateful, and I wish to God there was some way I could repay you…”
Cordelia shook her head, about to tell him he didn’t have to repay her for anything, because she owed him this and so much more for all the times he’d been there for her, and all the times he’d saved her life. And that she cared about him too much to let him go through all of this on his own. But Angel continued before she could even begin to say all of that, reaching up a hand to cup her cheek tenderly.
“But most of all, I’m scared of losing you,” he finished, startling her. “I need you so much now, Cordy, and I don’t know what I’ll do without you. Because of this, I’ll lose you too. I’ll be gone, and I won’t be able to see you live your life, or have a family, or find happiness.”
Cordelia swallowed hard, hearing the raw emotion in his voice, her free hand coming up to cover his on her cheek. She could already see it in his eyes, and hear it in his voice, and feel it in his touch. She knew it in his soul. He loved her. “I already am happy, Angel,” she whispered honestly, before taking him in a tight hug. She felt him return it instantly, drawing her closer, his tears finally falling, slipping down his cheeks to land on the material of her shirt covering her shoulder.
Suddenly, she felt him pull away, but only slightly, so that his face was inches in front of hers. Her eyes burned with tears yet to fall, while his cheeks were wet, his eyes red from crying already. Almost before she realized it, he tentatively moved closer to her, his eyes watching hers for any signs of confusion or the desire to pull away. Instead she didn’t move, holding her breath in hope, and finally his lips were on hers, and he was kissing her so tenderly, so reverently, so lovingly, that her tears fell from her eyes in a combination of joy and sadness, and she thought she was going to faint.
Cordelia kissed him back softly, which seemed to break him out of the haze he had created in both their minds, and he abruptly pulled away, eliciting an almost inaudible whimper of disappointment from her, while he touched his fingertips to his lips, as if trying to figure out if it had been real. His hand dropped to his lap and his eyes widened as he realized he’d just kissed his best friend. “I… I’m sorry…” he told her. “I shouldn’t have--” he began to say.
She surprised him when she shifted as close to him as their bodies would allow, reaching up to place her own fingertips to his lips. “Don’t ever be sorry,” she told him firmly. Before he could protest, or try to explain, she leant forward and captured his lips with her own, feeling him respond instantly and passionately. His hands moved up her back into her hair, holding her close as he tasted her sweet lips, tears falling from his own eyes, as they fell back onto his bed together.
Not another word was spoken for the rest of the night.
Part 3
Angel awoke to the feel of warm morning sunlight spilling through the window in his room, and the warm naked body wrapped snuggly in his arms. Carefully as he could so as not to wake her, he disentangled her from his arms, slipping out of bed and pulling on a pair of boxers. Cordelia let out a soft moan of displeasure at the loss of his warm body beside hers, one hand sleepily reaching out to the space he had vacated, finding the sheets empty.
“Angel…?” she murmured, awakening at the loss of his presence beside her. She clutched the sheets to her naked chest as she sat up, trying to blink away the sleep from her eyes, looking at Angel in concern as he sat on the edge of the bed by her legs. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Cordelia,” he assured her, knowing she meant his heart. But that thought just brought him back to what she had reason to be concerned about. Last night, they’d made love, and while he knew she had consented and enjoyed it then, and it had been the most incredible and loving experience of his entire long life, he wasn’t sure what she’d think of him now.
Cordelia looked only slightly relieved. “Good. I mean, I know we were careful last night…” she trailed off, biting her lip slightly as her cheeks warmed.
Angel misinterpreted her modest embarrassment as regret. “I’m sorry, Cordelia,” he said, startling her. “Last night shouldn’t have happened. I’m--”
His apology was cut off when Cordelia leant over, quickly swallowing the words in a passionate kiss that caught him by surprise. Before he could even think to respond to it, Cordelia broke away, smiling gently. “Only apologize to me if you regret it,” she told him, only shocking him more.
Angel finally nodded tightly. “Then I’m sorry,” he whispered, and this time it was her turn to be shocked. “It shouldn’t have happened now, Cordy. Not like this.”
Cordelia’s smile slowly slipped back onto her face, finally understanding where he was coming from. “Just yesterday you were saying you were going to make the most of the few months you have left,” she reminded him. “Isn’t this like that as well?”
Angel cringed and clenched his eyes shut for a moment, and she was stunned to see a couple of tears sneak past his shut eyes. When he looked at her again, his eyes were moist, and he was smiling bitterly. “I knew you’d think this was just a comfort thing,” he commented dryly, and Cordelia could hear the self-loathing she hadn’t heard in years in his voice.
Before she could argue, Angel stood from the edge of the bed, pacing agitatedly, before leaning heavily against the bedroom wall, realizing he was getting worked up, and that wouldn’t do him any good.
“That’s why this shouldn’t have happened,” he continued, anger in his voice, but she could tell that it was directed not at her, but himself. He hated himself for giving in last night. “Not now. Not under these circumstances,” he rambled, more reprimanding himself than explaining to her. “I should have let things stay buried. I should have died without you ever finding out--”
“Don’t say that,” Cordelia cut him off, shaking her head. “Don’t ever think that. I…” She almost said it then and there, but she needed to convince him that he had nothing to be ashamed of. And she needed to hear it from him first. “Find out what, Angel?” she asked softly, scooting closer to end of the bed to be closer to where he stood.
Angel sighed heavily, watching her features as she watched him in return, waiting for him to say what he knew she’d already realized. “I love you. I have for years,” he whispered hoarsely. “I just didn’t want to tell you, because deep down, I knew we’d never have a future together,” he said in a pained voice. He slowly moved closer to her, sitting on the edge of the bed beside her. “I’m in love with you Cordelia, but this shouldn’t have happened, because you deserve better than someone with no future to offer you. No, Cordelia. Don’t,” he said quickly, as she began to protest. “You have your whole life ahead of you, and I should have never dragged you into this.”
Cordelia shook her head again, tears forming in her eyes at his words. She knew where this was leading, but she also knew she would never be able to change his mind. Still, she had to try. “Angel, no. You didn’t *drag* me into anything. I lo--”
Just as she’d predicted, Angel didn’t let her finish, silencing her with his lips on hers, and she clenched her eyes shut tightly as they kissed, able to taste the salty tang of his tears on his lips, but she stubbornly refused to let hers fall. When Angel pulled away from her, he didn’t move far, reaching up to caress her cheek with a trembling hand, his tears falling more heavily. “Cordelia, this can’t be anything. You know that. Deep down, you know. I don’t want to leave you alone, and eventually, no matter how much I don’t want to, no matter how much I fight it, I will. At least this way, it’ll be easier, for you.” Cordelia’s entire body trembled in grief, and her eyes burned with tears that she futilely held back, dreading what he was going to say, but knowing she couldn’t deny him this request. “Cordelia, promise me you’ll never say that to me. Never,” he begged.
“Angel, please--!” she tried uselessly, but he shook his head, his own stubbornness showing as he reached up to wipe his steadily falling tears away with the heel of his palm, despite the fact that they were instantly replaced with fresh ones.
“Promise me, Cordelia!” he pleaded with her, and she could see in his eyes how much it was hurting him to ask her this.
She’d been afraid that he’d want to forget about last night, to pretend it never happened, but what he was asking was… She didn’t know if it was almost as bad or worse. She’d be with him, for what little time they had left to be together, and they could love each other, and he could tell her over and over how much he loved her, but she would only ever be able to show it. He was asking her to never, ever, tell him that she loved him. “But Angel, I--!” she tried again desperately, and again he stopped her.
“I know, Cordy! Believe me, I know!” he assured her, distraught. “But you have to promise me! Please Cordelia! We can have everything but that! I wouldn’t be able to bear leaving this world if you said that to me! I wouldn’t be able to leave you once you said those words, knowing you’d be alone, and unhappy! I can’t tie you down to a futureless life! Say them to someone who deserves them--”
“You do deserve them!” Cordelia shouted, unable to hold back her tears any longer as she sobbed in anguish, but Angel’s only acknowledgement of her words was a quick shake of his head before he continued.
“… and to someone you can say them to for the rest of your life!” he finished, trembling intensely as he reached over and gripped her hand tightly in his. “Please, promise me that. That’s all I ask,” he said softly, his voice barely audible now.
Cordelia sobbed openly, unable to utter a word, and she cursed herself over and over as she slowly nodded mutely, her tears increasing. “I… I promise, Angel,” she finally said, feeling sick to her stomach as she spoke the words. She watched his mixed emotions of relief, love and anguish, wanting and at the same time never wanting her to say the words he had now forbidden her from speaking. In a pain worse than she had ever conceived possible, she flung her arms around his neck, sobbing against his chest, and he held her, crying with her.
He didn’t try to tell her everything would be alright.
He didn’t know that anything would be alright.
Continue on...