Title: All He Needs
Author: Melissa
Posted: 04-28-2002
Email: mel5432@aol.com
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: not mine, Joss is a god.
Distribution: anyone who wants it, Nothing Fancy
Spoilers: Double or Nothing
Feedback! duh!
She leaned against the windowpane, watching the rain fall gently to the ground. It wasn’t really a hard rain – more of a springtime shower, the kind of storm that comes up quickly, without warning, and gives the earth much-needed hydration. Cordelia idly wondered if she should go out in the rain, wondering if it would possibly wash away her pain and frustration, and make her feel better.
Heading back had been uneventful. She and Groo had spent their time in Mexico – a well-spent vacation, she might add – and after around two weeks, they’d headed back a few mornings ago. All along the way, she’d had some nagging feeling that something wasn’t right – something she couldn’t quite put her finger on…
She knew her suspicions had been right the second she walked through the door. She had seen Gunn, Fred, and Lorne, who, after nearly tearful greetings, had filled her and Groo in on what happened. Cordelia had been shocked, to say the least, tears springing to her eyes. Her gaze first met Groo’s, and then Fred’s, and just by looking at the slight brunette she knew what she had to do.
She’d walked into that room hoping to God Himself that Angel, her best friend in the entire world, would miraculously open up to her, letting her give him everything he needed, the second she walked into the room.
Cordy’d walked in there, offering comforting words, a hug that she had felt his pain through, and open ears – but he had been stoic, to say the least. She’d expected it, and told him she was just there… which was really all he needed. She’d stayed there, slept in there, and he finally had just started talking one day, about the importance of life and a future, and how he’d had a son.
Cordelia had felt her eyes tear up as she’d watched him, monotonously dictating his thoughts to her, and wanted nothing more than to just take him into her arms, taking his pain away, letting him simply feel how much she loved him.
They’d been interrupted by Fred, though, and had to get back to business – they’d fought the battle, and saved Gunn, and now Cordelia was at a loss for what to do. She’d peered into Angel’s bedroom and seen him taking apart Connor’s crib – taking apart the only tangible proof that a baby had ever lived there, ever existed – and Cordy had remained mute, unable to enter the room, her heart twisting into unbearable knots as she slowly turned and walked out. A storm had set in about a half an hour before, and she’d stood alone in her bedroom by the window ever since, simply gazing and thinking.
“Hey, cutie,” she heard a voice say, and turned to see Lorne standing right at the doorway, his face devoid of its usual charm as he, too, glanced out at the rain.
“Hey, Lorne,” she replied wearily, turning back to face the window. “It’s nice, isn’t it?”
“What is?”
“The storm,” she replied quietly. “Kinda fitting, what with all that’s been going on here, huh?”
He regarded her solemnly for a second, and walked further into the room. “I’d say it’s even more fitting for you, ‘cause who wants to look out a window and brood when it’s sunny outside?”
She gestured toward the night sky. “Sun?”
“You know what I mean,” he replied. “Care to share, Princess?”
“What’s the point?” Cordelia asked sharply. “Can’t you just read me, and find out for yourself?”
The Host shook his head. “No need to. You’re giving off signals like a lighthouse, sweetie. Despair, hopelessness, guilt, anger… it’s all there. I was just wondering if I could help you figure out what to do with it, ‘cause, Cordelia… you can’t keep it all inside.”
She sighed, seeming to give up. “He’s dying inside, Lorne,” she said quietly. “And all this is my fault – if I hadn’t left, then maybe Wes…”
“What else could you do?” he broke in. “Angel was the one who told you to leave. If he blames you for any of this – well, it not only would show what a moron he is, but it’s not gonna happen. You’re not to blame here, pumpkin. Angel needs you more than anyone right now.”
“Then what do I do?” Cordy burst out. “It’s not supposed to be like this. I thought coming home was gonna be fun. I’d see Angel again, and little Connor, and everyone else, but instead – Connor’s gone, and Wesley almost died twice, what with Angel’s rage-fest and all, and everything just fell apart, Lorne. I don’t know what to do next.”
Lorne’s gaze, she had noticed, had slightly traveled off her face somewhere in the middle of her outburst, and Cordelia turned around slowly, knowing whom she’d see behind her.
Angel stood there quietly, almost blending in with the shadows like he did so well back in Sunnydale all the time, a look of almost determined stoicism and passion on his face, combined with a never-yielding sadness and just a trace of guilt.
Lorne nodded. “I’ll leave you two to – well…” he broke off. “I’ll be upstairs if you need me.”
Cordelia barely nodded when he passed by, her eyes transfixed on Angel, carefully watching him. When he didn’t look at her, and remained awkwardly by the door, she turned back to the window, watching the rain make patterns as it trickled down the glass.
Drip, drip, drip…
“I’m sorry.”
His voice came out of nowhere, shocking her, and she paused for a second.
She shook her head. “What do you have to be sorry for?” Cordelia asked gently, finally turning away from the window.
Angel shook his head, sitting down on her bed, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I’m sorry you have to deal with this.”
She watched him for a second, and slowly came over, taking tentative steps. Sitting easily down next to him, she turned her hazel eyes toward his face. “Don’t be sorry for that,” she replied lightly, yet seriously, her voice little more than a whisper. “What kind of best friend would I be if I wasn’t here for you and our family when we need it the most?”
“Thank you,” he murmured, glancing at her.
The pair sat in silence for a while, until Cordelia cleared her throat. “Is this another one of these ‘Cordy-does-all-the-talking’ conversations? ‘Cause I gotta say, Angel, as much as we all love to hear me talk, I think it’s your turn by now, don’t you?”
That got a slight smile out of him, and she smiled back. “I’m just sayin’…”
Angel glanced at her, and reached over, taking her hand in his. She squeezed his hand gently, and he squeezed back, merely taking comfort in the human touch of another.
It was awhile before he spoke, and when he did, his voice was rich with such a sadness that Cordelia about lost it on the spot.
“What is there to say?” he questioned. “I’m so lost, Cordelia,” he murmured, and her eyes filled with tears as it was. “I just feel so lost…”
“Shh,” she whispered quietly. “It’s gonna be okay…”
“They took my son, Cordy,” he said, his voice barely trembling. “They took Connor… my little baby… our little…” he broke off, unable to continue. “Our…”
“I know,” she whispered, her voice trembling as well. Lifting their intertwined hands, she brought his fist to her mouth, and placed a tender kiss on the back of his hand. He averted his gaze to look into her eyes, and saw nothing there but acceptance, understanding, utmost sympathy…
And love.
“I know,” she repeated, her voice breaking, never breaking their gaze.
Angel’s eyes closed for a minute as he shuddered all of a sudden, and leaned forward to place an equally tender kiss on Cordy’s forehead.
They sat in silence for a few seconds, their foreheads now touching for an instant, gazes downward, as Angel sighed in pure exhaustion, raising a hand to gently run his fingers through Cordelia’s newly shortened, blonder strands, before he leaned back, watching her intently.
She lifted her eyes to meet his, her face holding a question.
“What’s next?” she asked quietly, shrugging slightly.
Angel shook his head, looking away. “I don’t know.”
Cordy paused for a second. “We’re gonna get through this,” she said quietly. “Believe me. We’re going to find Connor. And even on the off-chance that we won’t – we’ll survive. We’re fighters, Angel. That’s what we do. We don’t give up until we win.”
He turned to look at her again, his dark eyes watching her intently. “I love you, Cordelia.”
She blinked in slight surprise, and smiled back, ever-so-slightly. “I love you too, Angel.” She leaned in, kissing his cheek gently, and pulled him into a heartfelt embrace. His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her close, and her hands circled his neck, tenderly brushing the wisps of hair at the back of his neck as he buried his face into her shoulder, breathing her in.
“It’s getting late,” she heard Angel whisper in her ear, and she nodded slightly into his shoulder.
“I know,” she murmured, barely moving her lips, suddenly very sleepy, and very safe, as he held her tightly.
“You sleeping here?” he asked softly, still holding her tightly.
The question hung in the air, it seemed, and Cordy paused for a second, gently extracting herself from his grip, watching him intently.
“Of course.”
Angel stepped back, slowly letting go of her. “I guess I’ll go then,” he replied, sounding for all the world like it was the last thing he wanted to do.
“No,” Cordy burst out quietly, and then looked sheepish. “I mean… you don’t have to, if you don’t want to – I have a big enough bed, and what with your room being all charred-y and all…”
He smiled slightly at her typical Cordy-speak, and then saw her face grow serious.
“Stay here with me.”
Angel faltered slightly. “You sure?”
She pressed her lips together for a split second, and the corners of her mouth lifted into a half-smile. “Positive…”
Angel watched as she regarded him, and, after giving her a slight nod, watched as she walked fluidly to the other side of the bed, gently climbing under the covers. Angel did the same, sliding underneath the warm, soft sheets – tainted with a faint scent of Cordelia, of vanilla and lavender and something else, something uniquely her – and laid there on his back, looking up at the ceiling.
They didn’t move for a few minutes, and then he heard a slight rustle, feeling the bed move, and all of a sudden felt warm skin pressed up against him. Cordelia’s head buried itself in the crook between his shoulder and neck, her body alongside his, on her side, her arm across his chest. Angel’s enhanced sense of smell breathed in the floral scent of her shampoo, her short hair tickling his neck, her warm hand burning into his side.
“Is this okay?” she murmured, already sounding sleepy, and he moved his arm around her waist, gently stroking his fingers up and down her side.
“Just about perfect,” he replied quietly, and he felt her smile into his chest as they lay there, falling asleep, holding each other until morning.End.