Title: Open Your Eyes
Author: Rachelle
Posted: 03-05-2003
Email: Infinity79@msn.com
Rating: NC-17
Category:
Content: C/A goodness, with B/A angst
Summary: This is the end of 'Becoming Part 2' shaken and stirred! What would have happened if it ended on a different note. Besides, it always bugged me that Buffy was going to dust him before he became Angel again by beheading him. How was she going to stop Acathla then?
Spoilers:
Disclaimer: The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.
Distribution: Anywhere, just ask me. I give.
Notes: This was B/A versus C/A funfic that started between me and my buddy, Sunrise, on the CoA website. I started with my 'Becoming' ending and she countered it with B/A, then I with C/A and so on... Hopefully she will let me use the B/A stuff she wrote and her ideas to make this story fully developed.
Feedback: Always welcome!
Dedication: I dedicate this to Cheese, you know who you are and why I dedicate it to you! And my kewl twin, Lindsay, 'cause she's so kewl!Part 1
“Where are we? I... I don’t remember?”
It was bittersweet... he was back! She knew it, just like Giles said it would happen. The moment would be sudden , and she would know. His eyes had glowed suddenly, not like when he vamped out and he said her name… like only he could.
“Angel?” She whispered fearfully, her guard easing as she slowly lowered her sword. Buffy still felt apprehensive, but it had to be Angel.
He stepped towards her, smelling blood. “You’re hurt.”
Buffy felt her world fall into completion, as he pulled her into his embrace. It was him! It was his touch.
Angel didn’t know what to think, she was hurt and he couldn’t remember. “Oh, Buffy! God... I feel like I haven’t seen you in months!” He felt like he was finally awake, from dream or a nightmare he couldn’t remember.
“Oh, God, everything’s so muddled, I...! Oh, Buffy,” Angel whispered, kissing her shoulder in silent gratitude that where ever he had been he was back. He never wanted to feel this emptiness again.
Buffy’s eyes began to mist as she finally grasped her lover again. Then she heard it. Acathla. He was opening his vortex, preparing to swallow the world into Hell.
“His blood will open the door to Hell... Then only Angel’s blood will close it. One blow will send ‘em both back to Hell.”
Angel could feel her tensing up, as if she was preparing for a battle. “What’s happenin'?” Angel asked, as she pulled herself away from him.
Looking into his eyes, Buffy knew that he trusted her. He would die trusting her. “Shhh, don’t worry about it.” Caressing his face, she pulled him towards her, giving him a kiss that only she knew would mean goodbye. Behind them, she could feel the vortex gathering strength, and pulled back.
“I love you.”
“I love you,” he whispered back, meaning it.
His brown eyes were shining with tears. Angel trusted her completely and she could not do this meeting his eyes.
“Close your eyes,” Buffy whispered, knowing he would do so.
Never doubting her intentions, Angel began to close his eyes. This was Buffy, he would have faith in her no matter what happened. She loved him and he loved her...
OPEN YOUR EYES!
It was a psychic demand. Soundless, sightless yet powerful as a thunder cap. A desperate command that could not be ignored. The brutal force of it caused Angel to open his eyes in clear-headed awareness.
“Angel? Close your eyes.”
Glancing down at her hand, he saw that she was clenching the sword again. Was she preparing to strike? Who was she going to...
“Why?” Angel whispered, taking a step away from her. He was beginning to feel uneasy with her standing before him, sword in hand.
Buffy didn’t know what was going on. She had asked him to do something, and he wouldn’t do it. “Just close your eyes! Please!” Her plea had more desperation in it than she wanted.
“I feel like I haven’t seen you in months! Why should I close my eyes, Buffy?” This was getting ridiculous. Angel didn’t like the look she had on her face. She was eyeing him now as if he was prey.
Feeling frantic, Buffy tried to think of something, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t do anything with him staring at her.
“Damnit, Angel! Just close your eyes! Okay?!” Buffy nearly screamed in frustration. Why wouldn’t he do what she wanted? Now he was backing away from her as if she wanted to- as if she wanted to... kill him.
And it came back to him. Just like that. Everything that had happened in the last few months as Angelus. He had killed Jenny Calendar, and so many others. Taunting Buffy and her friends. Angelus had tortured Giles to get what he wanted from the librarian. How to open Acathla. And he had succeeded in opening it.
“My blood. My life.”
Angel knew what she was trying to do. She was going to send him Hell to close the vortex. “You want to kill me?!” Glancing behind him, he could see that Acathla’s mouth was open, and the portal to the demon dimension was growing wider.
“YOU WANT TO SEND ME TO HELL?”
Buffy felt as if she had been torn apart. Angel was glaring at her with such mistrust and anger. Her eyes welled up again with fresh tears, “I love you! But I can’t do this with you looking at me!” Buffy cried out in anguish as she saw the expression on Angel’s face- he was disgusted with her.
Backing away, he shook his head in denial. Not, Buffy... she would have found another way! She wouldn’t send me to Hell! As Angelus she would, but not me.
Yes. She would.
“No,” he hissed at her. “You don’t love me.” Suddenly he lunged forward, grabbing her sword. Still meeting her green eyes, he made a violent gash across his chest. The silk, black shirt he was wearing began to moisten with his blood.
Angel sneered at her, when she cried out in alarm at his action. His face terse in distrust, he held the sword now dripping with his blood in front of her eyes. Whirling, he plunged the sword into Acathla, closing the vortex.
He had sealed the opening with his blood. Buffy’s face was awash in astonishment. He had closed it and he wasn’t dead! “But how...?”
Snarling, Angel turned away from her, glaring at the now dormant Acathla. “My blood opened it, so I used it to close it! You didn’t have to resort to killing me, Buffy! I don’t know what you think love is, but it’s not sending me to Hell.” Giving her a sideways look, he began to walk away from her.
Buffy sobbed into her hands, desperation taking hold of her, “ANGEL!!! Please don’t leave me!” How could she go on living without him?
Stopping in his tracks, he spun around, his hand stained red as he clutched the self-inflicted wound on his chest. The blood ran over his claddagh ring, like the one he had given her. Angel felt himself waiver inside. She was so beautiful, her face flushed in anguish and her eyes shining like emeralds. Shining with tears for him. Would those tears have been shed if she had killed him? Maybe she would have cried, but the tears would have been different.
“I love you. Please, you have to understand that I would have had to kill you to save the world. Please!” Buffy could feel her heart pounding. Angel just stood there, as if weighing her meaning. The expression in those dark depths were unfathomable. Maybe I’m reaching him, she prayed to herself. God she hoped she could reach him! She didn't know if she could live without him, now that she knew she did not have to kill him.
With only six words, Buffy knew it could never be mended. She was trying to seek forgiveness and understanding from the one she loved with all her heart. The lover she would have killed to save the world, when there was now proof that it could have been saved without his sacrifice. It was never her sacrifice. She would live and he would have been sent to Hell by her. Buffy knew deep in her heart of hearts, had she killed him, she would be able to go on.
“I thought I was your world.”
Angel said it so softly, almost like a caress. He was right, he was her world and she had the resolve to destroy that world. Her knees gave out, and she crumbled to the floor in agony. She had lost him. Either way she would have lost him. But this was so much worse then killing him. It would have been so much easier just to kill him, she sobbed within herself.
Seeing her fall to the floor, Angel felt his compassion fall with her. It was almost as if he could read her thoughts. He didn't know if it had been the voice that commanded him to open his eyes or if he could just sense it somehow. Angel knew she was battling within herself whether it would have been better just to kill him. Why not? She was going to just cut my head off as Angelus, and the portal was already opened. He remembered kneeling before her, beaten, as she raised her sword for the death blow. Then he got his soul back and she was going to send him into Hell. Not dusted, just existing as he was in this world.
"Why were you going to dust Angelus and not me, Buffy?" He wanted to know. By God he had a right to know.
Buffy looked up at him, dumbfounded. Was she really going to do that? Whistler had told her one blow would send him and Acathla back into Hell, so why did she just want to dust Angelus? Acathla would have still been active and she had seen Angelus open the portal.
"I-I don't know, Angel," she whispered in detachment. She honestly did not know. Dusting Angelus would have damned the world, there would have been no blood to close Acathla.
“Yeah, I don't know either," Angel leered, shaking his head in bewilderment. Love was nothing in this world. It was nothing to her. "Just to let you know, metal in the chest wouldn’t have killed me, Buffy. Had you sent me to Hell, I would be there as I am now. I would be in Hell as I am now!”
Turning to leave, he vowed he would never love again.
Part 2
This couldn’t be happening! How could this happen to her?! She and Angel were to be forever. He was never supposed to leave her, and there he was, walking away from her.
Buffy clawed her nails in ground, as if trying to dig a hole to bury herself in. She just wanted to be away from it. To pluck out the pain and be numb. He was the love of her life, but he didn’t care!Each step he took was as if a chunk of her existence went with him.
Angelus has destroyed so much, she had to finally come to the realization that she would never have her Angel back. In that final instance when she had been prepared to dust Angelus, she had realized she did not want the world to continue. She had been ready to take his head off, and there would have been no blood to stop the Armageddon. Acathla would have swallowed the world. Putting an end to the light.
I wanted the world to end.
It was a realization that damned the Slayer.
Buffy slammed her fist into the ground, relishing the pain that surged up her arm. She was destined to protect this world, not to secretly want to destroy it! True, she had always felt alienated with her gifts, but she had always loved them. She wanted to be a normal girl, but it was a lie. Having such power within her was something she could never part with. Maybe that was why she was chosen. To protect the world, by loving her power. Her world...
It had crumbled. Her mother did not want her, and where was her father? The one she loved with all her heart had become her worst nightmare. It wasn't Angelus that had been her nightmare... it was the thought that one day Angel would leave her.
Angel was almost to the back exit. The sun had risen in the East, and as much as he wanted to burn from it, he found he couldn’t waltz into it’s rays. Buffy had been willing to send him into Hell, and he’d be damned a thousand times over if it he went there now!
Suddenly he heard the scrap of metal on the cement floor. Turning sharply, he saw out of the corner of his eye that Buffy, still crouched on the ground, was pulling the sword toward her. Her eyes were vacant, as if she had lost something precious. What is she...
Faster than even he could see, Buffy plunged the sword into her chest.
“BUFFY!!” Screaming, Angel ran over to, skidding his knees on the floor as he grasped her before her head hit the floor. Blood was running from her chest in continuous rivulets. She had buried the sword deep, and it was too close to her heart. Angel could hear her heart begin to slow as he cradled her in his arms. “Oh, God! Buffy, why?”
Gasping as she felt her life flow from her, she brought her dewy eyes to Angel’s face. “I-I was going to kill you, bu-but that wasn’t the worst thing. I wanted the world to end after I killed Angelus-” Her speech broken as she coughed, her lungs filling with blood.
“I wanted the world to end because I knew... I’d never see you again.” Buffy began to shake, she was getting cold. “And then you were back- I’m so sorry, Angel! I can‘t live with that!” Sobbing she grabbed his hand, holding it to her wounded chest, the sword still imbedded.
Angel felt tears of ice run down his face. He didn’t want this... this wasn’t supposed to happen! “Please, Buffy, hold on- don’t die! You can’t die. Not like this!” She was so brave. Buffy was meant to die in battle not by her own hand. How can it end this way? Angel trembled in fear as he heard her breathing weaken. She was dying.
“Angel?”
“Yes?”
Buffy’s eyes were staring at the ceiling, the green in them shining brighter than he had ever seen. “Do you really think there’s a Heaven?”
Nodding his head, he collapsed into sobs, “Yes, baby, I do.”
She gave a weak laugh. “If there’s a Hell there’s a Heaven.” Her eyes narrowed slightly and then began to widen in childlike amazement. “I think I see it Angel- so bright..,” Giving one last, soft breath of air, and she was still. Angel whimpered as her fingers fell from his.
"BUFFY?! BUFFY!!!!!!" Angel cried and cried until he couldn't anymore. Shaking her could not bring her back. She was cold. The only life that had ever touched him had extinguished, because of his rage. Her green eyes stared ahead, lifeless... looking at something he could not see. She went into the light without him.
They came again, those gut wrenching sobs that tore at his heart. How could he go on without her? How could he have even thought he could? Ever?
Angel closed his eyes in anguish. She was going to go on without me, he sobbed to himself. Love was supposed to be eternal, but she was going to kill him.
"But I stopped it," he whispered to her, lightly touching his lips on her golden head. "I stopped it and you still went on without me! Did our love mean so little, Buffy?"
"Her love meant everything to her, Angel."
Angel whipped his head up in surprise, his tearful brown eyes widening in astonishment at the owner of that voice. Beautiful hazel eyes, that almost matched his pain. "Cordelia? What are you doing here?"
Her poised, perfect face was wet with her own grief. She had come down the garden steps to the glass doors, just at the moment that Buffy had plunged the blade home.
"I didn't come here for this," Cordelia whispered, as she inched closer to the vampire and the fallen Slayer. She could feel her lips trembling as she gazed upon the still figure of her rival. I'll never get to tell her I was sorry, she thought, sorry for all the things I said. She had always thought there would be time. Everyone thought there was time.
"I-I came to find Xander, but-but-" Cordelia broke, the lump in her throat to big for her to continue. Giving a strangled cry, Cordelia Chase began to cry.
Angel reached up a hand, pulling her down hard into his embrace. All he could do was hold onto them both, as his body trembled with dry sobs.
It was an odd sight to behold... The dead Slayer cradled between the vampire, who only moments earlier was trying to destroy all life on earth. Now, he had returned to the one she had loved. And the other, the most unlikeliest of friends, Cordelia, crying out her pain for her fallen ally.
Cordelia forced herself to pull away from him, bringing her gaze down to Buffy's serene face. Reaching out a quivering hand above her friend's face, she gently closed those green eyes. She could be sleeping, she mused, seeing one of her tears fall on Buffy's pale cheek.
"Angel," Cordelia asked, "What happened here?"
He just looked wildly about the room, as if trying to find what he had lost. There was so much loss!
"Angel!"
Angel brought his feral gaze to Cordelia's questioning. She should have felt fear at his look, but she didn't.
"The spell- whoever did the Kaldarash spell it worked!" He began, his voice breaking. "Was it Willow?"
Cordelia gently nodded her head.
"And-and the vortex opened, and I was back! I was so happy to see her, Cordelia! I felt like I hadn't see her in so long." Angel slowly rose to his feet, cradling Buffy's body in his arms. Slowly, he walked over to the table in the middle of the room, laying her form on it's surface.
Cordelia's face felt scalded with tears, as she watched Angel's careful movements. Angel brought his hand to the blade, still buried in Buffy’s chest. Screaming, he wrenched in from her body, hurtling the weapon across the room.
Cordelia, still crouched on the floor, flinched at the sudden outburst of rage.
"She said 'close your eyes' and I did," Angel's look was so far away, as if he were watching the whole scene again, but he was not a part of it. "But there was something in her voice that made me open them again. There was a voice… Then I began to remember what - HE- had done! She kept insisting that I close my eyes-"
Cordelia gasped in alarm, as Angel swiftly moved to where she was sitting, and violently wrenched her to her feet. His fingers biting into her tender arms as he pulled her in front of him.
"SHE WAS GOING TO KILL ME!!"
"Wha- why?" Cordelia whimpered, her arms stinging as he increased his grip.
"She was going to close the vortex to hell by sending me there! It could have been closed just by my blood, which was what I did after- after I pushed her away."
"You pushed her away?"
"Yes," he whispered, his hold on her arms relaxing. "I told her that she must not have loved me if she was so willing to kill me. The vortex could have been closed just by my blood! But I wouldn't have died, Cordelia. I would have been in Hell, as I am now. I‘ll always live in Hell!"
Angel whimpered, sinking down to his knees in front of her. "She killed herself because I was going to leave. Our love meant nothing either way." His voice broke into sobs again. As if needing to find solace, he wrapped his arms around her hips, burrowing his face in the soft hollow of her stomach. Her sweater becoming damp with his tears.
Cordelia brought her eyes down to his pitch-black head, amazed at what she had heard. The wheels in her head were turning. "The rest of the gang will be back here soon, Angel. Especially when Xander finds out I came here. You need to get out of here!"
Angel kept his arms around her, delving in her warmth, her humanity. There was no reason anymore. "Why? They'll just think I killed her and then they can kill me. It'll be done."
"No," she snarled, cupping his face in her hands, making him look and her. "You have to live! She ended her life when she could not end yours! I need to get you out of here!" Grunting at his weight, she tried to pull him to his feet. "Angel, please! I-I can't let them kill you!"
Grabbing her hands, he stilled her. "Why not? I murdered Jenny and enjoyed it! I might has well have plunged that sword into Buffy. It should end this way, Cordelia."
"Angelus killed Jenny, not you. I have seen Angel and I have seen Angelus! They are not the same," Cordelia pleaded, trying to pull him up. "And I saw Buffy destroy herself! She could have fought, but she didn't. You have to fight."
Angel knew her words were accurate, even though he wanted to deny them. Something had called to him to keep his eyes open and he did. The only being he had ever loved was lying dead on the table behind him. What was there left?
"The fight is left."
Angel felt his strength return at her words and rose to his feet. He had kept his eyes open because he was supposed to continue. There was another destiny for him. His journey in Sunnydale had ended with the Slayer. She was no longer part of his future. Buffy was to lead him in the right direction, another would help him follow it.
"Why did you come here, Cordelia? Not because of Xander." It wasn't even a question, but an affirmation of fact. Angel knew the same thing that had called to him was the same phenomenon that willed the brunette here. He felt it.
Bringing her gaze to floor, she trembled as she felt Angel place a finger under her chin, raising her head back to his eye level. She tried to pull away from him, but he grasped her the side of her face in a firm, yet gentle grip. "Tell me."
"I- I had a feeling that I needed to be here. That I had to see you. Something- called to me!" Cordelia bit her lower lip until it bleed. She didn't know what to think about all this. She was so confused. After the spell was completed, she had run out of the hospital hell-bent on getting to the mansion. The only thought that had been pounding in her mind was to get to Angel. To keep him here.
"We have to keep fighting, Angel. I don‘t know where, but-" It suddenly dawned upon her. Angel was supposed to continue on, aiding the forces of good and she was meant to help. She had not idea why she was chosen for this. She knew that she was the least favorable candidate as a force against darkness, but it felt right.
Angel knew she was right. They had to keep going. Whatever happened to them in the past or future, they had to keep going. He had to find someplace to go.
The sun was almost completely up now, and shafts of light were pouring into the room. "Get out of here, Angel. I'll finish here and I'll meet you wherever you go! Give me a few weeks."
Cordelia knew that the gang was coming back and they would see Buffy- Angel needed to leave! "Go to the tunnels and get out of Sunnydale! I'll tell everyone what happened."
Angel closed his eyes, imagining the pain Buffy's friends and mother would feel. He wished he could turn back time, but destiny could not be fought. And he knew it was meant to be. "When I get to were I‘m going, Cordelia, I'll find you!" He placed a quick kiss on her forehead and backed away, a new fire in his eyes. He had a feeling that when the brunette would get closer to him, he would sense her.
Buffy was gone, but she was with him. She would be with him and Cordelia, giving them strength.
Cordelia gave him a trembling smile, feeling her eyes well again as she watched him tenderly brush a strand of golden hair from Buffy's brow. Giving her light kiss on her cool lips, he turned away, on last time, and headed for the tunnels.
"Angel!"
He turned around, "Yeah?"
"Keep your eyes open. Okay?" Cordelia warned, giving him a sweet smile that touched her eyes. Whatever the future held for the two of them, fate was pushing them to it.
Returning that warm smile the best he could, promising her. "I will. I‘ll never close my eyes."
And he was gone. But he knew he would not be alone on his journey. Cordelia could never end it and neither would he. And he knew she was smiling down.
Part 3
(This is kind of B/A, but it's necessary.)
That old saying was a lie- that time heals all wounds. Some wounds are never healed... he needed his to continue. He remembered the last time he had forgotten- a town burned in agony.
Angel was a being who needed to remember all the pain that he had ever inflicted, in order to prevent it from ever happening again. To never be truly happy... could anyone really do that? To deny themselves the pleasure of bliss? For the safety of those he cared about, he damn well better.
It had been three years since that eventful day. When he returned from the abyss to find a world ravaged by his alter-ego, Angelus. No. Not his alter, it was him. Angelus was who he truly was. It’s the soul that changes the demon, makes him more human. Just a conscience, nothing more.
Willow Rosenberg had tapped into an unknown force within her, wielding a power that was able to summon his soul from the Ether, back into his body. Angelus was once again Angel. But things had taken a turn for the worse. Hell was ready to suck the world into it’s jaws and it needed to be closed. The key to that closing was Angel. His blood.
Buffy had been ready to send him full force into Hell, saving the world, but a the very last second, a voice had called to him to open his eyes. By doing that, Buffy could not find the strength to kill him. Those brief moments had enabled Angel to remember what had happened to him, and how to stop Acathla without him being sacrificed to Hell.
During a tearful confession of selfishness, Buffy admitted that if Angel had not been returned to her, even for a moment, she was ready to let the world end. It was against her very nature to wish for something so egocentric. Unable to cope with the loss of self and Angel leaving her, she took her life. It was her final gift to the world. Maybe she thought that by ending her life, a new Slayer would come along, who had the passion for the fight that she once held. Who knows?
Cordelia Chase, the beautiful cheerleading friend of Buffy, had witnessed everything for the moment Buffy took her life. Walking in at that instance, Cordelia was able to behold that even heroes could fall.
Both she and Angel had been called by the same voice. The unknown entity that had ordered Angel to keep his eyes open and for Cordelia to get to the mansion to keep Angel alive. After three long years, it was still a mystery that they could not solve. Was it the Powers That Be? Or something else? Something new…
Los Angeles
“Really, Cordelia, I don’t feel like going out. I’m sorry, but I don’t.”
Angel had relocated to Los Angeles after the death of Buffy, the Vampire Slayer. His love. Following an undeniable pull to the urban city, he had tried to rebuild his life... or un-life. With him was Cordelia Chase, a shining light from his brief past with Buffy. In the span of three years in L.A., Cordelia had become the friend he had never had.
It was a hard time for Angel. Nothing had seemed right since Buffy had died. Cordelia supported him all the way. She’d been so nice to him when she had first come to L.A. The snobby cheerleader from Sunnydale High had completely vanished. For awhile she had been so gentle with him, caring and always listening to his problems and fears.
But now Angel was annoyed. For the past few weeks Cordelia had started to become relentless in her quest to bring him out in the world.
When he had first come to L.A., just days after Buffy’s suicide, he was approached by a demon (or rather, half -demon) named Carlos. It was almost as if Carlos had been drawn to Angel. Apparently, Carlos had been summoned by the Powers That Be to aid Angel in his quest for redemption and atonement. Carlos was a Melockus, a demon who could shape-shift into anything it desired... rocks, Brachen demons, lost actresses, it didn’t matter. His line was a descendent of the Incubus/Succubus line that had evolved from the need to rely on human lust for feeding. He mostly ate cheeseburgers and malt shakes from Mel’s Diner and In-Out. He didn’t have to worry about his cholesterol level.
Carlos was an asset. His visions, bestowed upon him by the Powers, were given to him when someone was in danger or danger was about to erupt. He was a cherished friend who had a knack for spoiling his 8-year-old daughter, Elisabeta. She was all that was left of his human wife, Ryn, who had died for a cause that he did not believe in- sacrificing yourself so others might live. Ryn, nothing more than a frail, human woman had lost her life trying to save those that her husband had deemed unworthy.
With her death, Carlos had accepted the fact that he had not been worthy of her.
Once Carlos had established himself as the aid of Angel, rather reluctantly to both un-human men, Cordelia had finally arrived from Sunnydale. Fulfilling the promise she had made to Angel, she had succeed in adverting the remaining Scooby gang from coming after Angel. The girl knew unless they had been properly informed and calmed, they would come after Angel. That was a risk she could not take. No matter what had transpired between the star crossed lovers, it was not the vampire’s fault that the Slayer took her life.
“Angel,” Cordelia implored, her hazel eyes pleading. “You need to get out. Just sitting around here, brooding, waiting for Carlos to get a vision is not going to satisfy the Powers. I’m pretty sure they want you to live with humanity, not just save them when disaster strikes.” She had been subtly trying to coax Angel out from his shell, but for some reason the more she prodded the more he resisted. It was getting annoying.
Angel looked up from his paperwork on this desk, to regard the dark-haired beauty in front of him. And she was a beauty. Each day she seemed to go beyond the norm and evolve, like a rare flower that blossomed and the world took for granted. She was wearing a navy blue slip dress that showed off her curves. Since she had come to L.A., her hair had grown out impossibly long, the ends stopping two inches above her ass. Cordelia was ready for the L.A. nightlife and she was beautiful, but somehow he could not find it within himself to care.
The concern that had been expressed to him that long ago morning within the mansion, after Buffy died was still there, but not. Angel didn’t know how to put his finger on it, yet he knew. That’s all he could really find in himself, he just knew.
“Cordy, I understand that you care about what is going on with me, but I’m just not ready to show myself to the world yet.” Shoving his files to the side, he hoped this would somehow reach her. He almost wanted the throw something at her for her constant persisting for him to join life. She didn’t understand that he had no life. As a vampire he was just a dead guy with superpowers walking.
Rolling her eyes, she practically sneered at him. “When do you think you are going to be ready? How are you supposed to make a difference in the world if you won’t go out and see it?” Cordelia gritted her teeth in frustration as Angel regained that passive look on his face.
For months Cordelia had been trying to get inside his head, probing to see if she could bring him out, closer to her. Nothing was working. The more she dug, the more he resisted. She needed to get him to trust her more, to let down his barriers. It was like trying to claw through a brick wall. She decided to try a different angle.
Giving a luscious tousle of her dark mane, she said the one thing she knew would get a rise out of him. “You know Buffy would have wanted you, too.”
He felt as if ice had be thrown on his already cold body. How dare she? Angel tried to curb his anger, but to no avail. With those words she had unleashed a fury in him. For days-no! Weeks! She had been constantly pestering him! Do this with me or do that!! Now mentioning Buffy in that condescending tone?
Growling, Angel snatched up the demon anthology closest to him and hurtled against the wall, causing the bind to break with the force of the impact. Moving with lightening speed he, maneuvered around his desk, toward Cordelia. Not hearing her gasp of alarm, Angel slammed her against the closed door behind her, pressing his body against hers. Boring his eyes into hers, Angel tried to restrain his demon.
“What did you say?”
Meeting his glare just the same she hissed, “You heard me. Your hearing finally going, old man?”
It was a battle of wills. This had been building for months between the two. Cordelia would push at him, and he would just push her away...
Three Months Earlier
“It’s meant to be, Angel. You and me.”
It was a quiet night. Halloween. A night when the baddies of the world took a break. And there they were, human girl and vampire, sitting in his loft trying to enjoy the momentary peace.
Well, there had been peace, until Cordelia started to make the moves. True, he had been thinking about it. She was the most beautiful creature, inside and out. Just being around her made the sun shine in his darkened world. But it was too soon. When he looked at her, all he could wish was that her hazel eyes had more green in them. That maybe, she would lighten her hair, just a little bit. But then he would shake himself out of that daze, and realize how much he loved her dusky look. It was driving him crazy.
“Cordelia,” Angel started, bringing himself into a sitting position. His all too comfortable couch had suddenly become uncomfortable. He turned to face her, placing her small hands into his. He had to break it to her gently. This was too soon for him. Buffy was something he could never let go. And not matter how hard he tried, her memory still burned within him. “I-I can’t do-”
Looking into her beseeching eyes, Angel knew he was gone. Her face was so lovely, a flawless creation that would drive perfection itself mad. There they were, both clothed in drawstring sweats and tank tops. Only a thin barrier of clothing separating him from her. He could smell her. So intoxicating, so alive! She was there for the taking, and she wanted to be taken.
As if reading is thoughts, Cordelia shifted her position towards him, inching ever so close.
Angel, don’t...
Giving himself a shake, Angel snatched his hands away. “I can’t do this, Cordelia.” Shooting her an embarrassed look, he rose from his position on the couch and began to pace. “I just can’t, okay?”
“Fine.” Cordelia got up from the couch, heading for the door, grabbing her purse and jacket on the way. She had put in overtime for this vamp, trying with unsuccessfulness to get him to let down is guard. All he could think of was her. Twinkie, the Vampire Slayer!
“Just remember this, Angel,” Cordelia began, giving a backwards glare, as she opened the door to the loft. “The world will be spinning with Carlos, Elisabeta, and me in it. Buffy will not be.” Trying to control the urge to say more, she stormed out, slamming the door in frustration.
It was in that instance, as Angel bore his eyes into the door that had just closed, that he realized something was wrong.
Two hours later.
The place was dingy and disgusting. Of course it would be that way, being a temple in the nastiness part of the Los Angeles sewers.
Being in the rage she was in, the vivacious brunette paid no heed to the grim on her shoulder, as she squeezed herself through the narrow passageways. Letting out a frustrated sigh, she came before an altar.
This was no ordinary altar. The flesh and bones of both humans and demons adorned it’s surface. Most of which she had killed. Black and red candles burned in an eternal flame. It was an homage to evil. The First evil.
“IT ISN’T WORKING!” She raged and the altar, poring out her years of building hate and aggression. The continuous pressure of assuming the personality of someone who was supposed to a force of good was wearing thin on her black heart. At the boom of her voice, the center of the table erupted into a living inferno. The flame taking on a human-like shape. “He still thinks about her!”
“So?” The voice within the fire cackled. “Why didn’t you use your charms, Fea?”
“I did, Master,” Fea gritted, trying to fight the urge not to spit on the altar. For years she had been working on Angel, trying to get under his skin. To let loose the demon inside. “But her memory lives on in him. He won’t let her go. I think I blew it.”
The fire surged at her words. “Now how can that be, Fea? Cordelia Chase is his destiny. I’ve told you this repeatedly. The Slayer was a mere fragment, a level in the obstacle course.”
“Some level.” She snidely replied.
Stupid, worthless... Fea wanted nothing more than to turn her back on this, revenge be damned! She had no idea why the First would be interested in Angel. She had originally been approached by the eyeless minions of the First, with the proposition to get access to Angelus. The vampire was what Fea had wanted. She wanted him destroyed! Years ago the vampire had betrayed her and she had not been able to return the favor. The First had given her the ultimatum- work under it, and she would get Angelus once it was done with him.
“You know,” Fea began, “I don’t get it. You’re the First. The very definition of evil. Why do you need minions like me or the eyeless-wonders to do your dirty work? Not that I don’t mind posing as a trusted ally to Angel, the reformed vamp, but what gives? Why not just take him?”
What happened next was nothing that Fea could have prepared for. Out of nowhere, two of the First’s soldiers, eyeless machines of evil, proceeded to her attack her. Grunting in pain and surprise, Fea found herself being slammed against the floor. The warriors were punching and kicking at her in a relentless, controlled frenzy.
“That’s why I need my minions, Fea! Is the demonstration helping a bit?”
Fea cried out in agony, as she the female warrior sent a fist down so hard she felt her jaw crack.
“Enough.” Such a soft command, but it held that much power, that the minions immediately backed off, melding back into the shadows from whence they came. “Are you done with the twenty questions or do you need more answers?”
Coughing up blood that had begun to well from the cut inside her cheek, Fea painfully rose to her feet. Fear was much more focusing than rage at this moment. “I’m done, Master.”
The fire gave a more subtle faint glow. “Excellent! Now, I have given you the body of Cordelia Chase, Fea. The very form that will be the undoing of Angel. Her soul does not plague that body anymore, thanks to me, giving way for you to do your magic. It lies dormant in the Ether. I want Angel’s soul in that Ether with her! You will make him forget Buffy. You will make him become Angelus. Do I make myself clear?”
“I will grasp his soul.”
“That’s what I like to hear! Now, let’s get you cleaned up. You really need to curb that nasty temper of yours. Mark my words, it'll get you in trouble!”
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