DISCLAIMER: I only own my computer.
RATING: PG --- angst and sadness
SPOILERS: Heroes
SUMMARY: This takes place the night that Doyle dies. Seeing Heroes again
upset me to no end. Plus I had Writer's Block and Saber suggested that I
write something quick and easy. I hope it worked. Thanks, Saber :)
NOTES: Tissue warning if you have Doyle issues too. I cried writing it. :)

Cordelia sat alone on the unmade bed and stared at what was left of Doyle. A
few pieces of paper, a chest of drawers that had clothing hanging out, books
with broken spines and a pair of shoes, waiting by the door for someone to
take them for a walk. She sighed again, for the millionth time, and gazed
across his room.

If she breathed deeply, so deeply that her lungs ached, she could smell him
here. She could smell that clean, spicy scent that trailed in with him when
he would walk into the office. If she concentrated hard enough, she could
imagine what he must have done mechanically in this room. Hit the alarm, hop
out of bed, trudge to the shower and then to the closet to dress for the
day. If she squeezed her eyes shut and really tried, she could visualize his
blue eyes raking the shirts in his closet and standing before the mirror to
shave.

Then the memories would segue into a flash of blinding white light and he
would vanish, the taste of his kiss still present on her lips.

It wasn’t right, this wild card that had been dealt. One second it was the
three of them, laughing, joking, finding a way to stop the big bad, and then
there were two. Two beings who had trudged home from the docks without a
word. Two friends who had lost their anchor, lost their eyes into the future
and lost their hope. Two people, subconsciously reaching for the third, that
was no where to be found.

Cordy didn’t have to say that she needed to watch the tape of Doyle and she
was grateful when Angel had slid it into the VCR and leaned behind her. The
commercial was cheesy and Doyle was stiff and unsure of where to put his
hands. He flubbed the lines, missed his marks, looked bewildered and neither
Angel nor Cordy could take their eyes off of him. By the time they had
viewed it three times, Cordelia decided it was her most prized possession
and asked if she could have it. Angel had agreed instantly and retreated to
his office.

It was unspoken but it was loud, their need to be alone.

Cordelia had slipped her shoes on, pocketed a stake and slipped into Angel’s
overcoat. The walk to Doyle’s apartment wasn’t a long one and she was so
preoccupied that she would not have noticed if it was miles. She used the
fire escape, remembering that he always left his window cracked, and let
herself in. Then she sat, completely still, on the edge of his bed and tried
not to crumble apart.

The cramp in her back was the only indication of how much time had passed
and she wondered how long she had been sitting slumped over with no support.
Standing slowly, she trudged to the bathroom and splashed water on her face.
The smell, his smell, was stronger here and as she lifted his towel to dry
her face, she sobbed into it. It didn’t feel real.

She moved restlessly back into the bedroom and glanced at the various items
on his dresser. A book stuck out because the pages wouldn’t close and she
lifted it, gingerly flipping through to the middle. A wilted rose was
pressed firmly between the pages and she narrowed her eyes, recalling the
day Doyle had plucked one from the dozen that some agent had sent her. He
had grabbed her around the waist and stuck it in his mouth, mimicking a
tango, and she had insulted him and told him to take his saliva covered
flower and leave.

He had done just that, with a wink and with the flower.

Holding the book to her chest, Cordy scanned the dresser again and saw a jar
full of change and a crumpled piece of paper. She turned the lid and fished
the paper out, unfolding it and holding it up to the light. There was a
heart, a gorgeous bubbly heart, drawn in the middle and it had swirly
handwriting that read, “Doyle loves Cordelia.”

If she had found this on him, she would have mimicked him and poked fun and
accused him of being a gradeschooler. Instead, she folded it again and added
it to the book in her arm. A new sob erupted and she rushed into the living
room to snatch the box of tissues she had seen on his coffee table. Flopping
down on the sofa, she blotted her eyes and tried not to think of how empty
she felt. She tried to comfort herself in the fact that this amazing man had
loved someone like her, but she failed miserably.

In an armchair next to the front door, she noticed a little beige teddy bear
with a rose in it’s paw. She stood, smiling through her tears, and picked it
up. The book toppled to the floor when she saw the tag and she dropped down
to her knees to pick it up again. For several minutes, she was too stunned
to move and then she let herself go.

The dam erupted and the sobs broke forth like a hurricane, blowing through
her soul and drowning her heart. Memories hit her like flying debris, lost
chances and words that were never spoken and could never be said. Her mind
kept forming the sentence, “If only I had known”. Then she would berate
herself because she had known. She had enjoyed knowing that she was the
object of his affection and had toyed with him.

Now he would never know. He would never know that she told all of her
friends that she had a boyfriend named Doyle who spoke with a cute accent.
He would never know that she had doodled his name in her address book and
arranged the magnets on her refrigerator to spell out ‘Francis Doyle’.
Phantom Dennis had rearranged them of course, but she had done it just the
same. And he would never know that the moment he kissed her, every other
kiss she had ever been given was erased from her mind.

All she wanted was his kiss and his arms and his love.

And she had it.

Too briefly and not long enough to cherish it completely.

She stumbled to her feet and picked up a pen and piece of paper off the
coffee table. Chewing her bottom lip, she wrote quickly, pouring her heart
into the prose that spilled like blood on the paper. It came fast and easily
and when she was finished, she noted that her tears had dampened the black
ink. It seemed fitting to see the ruined paper and the runny drops pulling
the ends down on some of the letters. Blowing it a little to dry it, she
lifted the book and bear and walked to his bedroom again.

Cordelia lifted his pillow and buried her face in it, inhaling again. She
would never know what he looked like when he woke up. She would never know
if he slept on his stomach or his side and she would never know what it felt
like to lie in bed with him. But she smiled. His new pillow was her heart,
his cover was her soul and she would sleep with him every night in her
dreams. He would never have to wonder how she felt about him as long as he
was alive in her.

She used the front door to let herself out and Angel waited until he heard
the door click before he stepped forward and lifted the paper off the
pillow. He had followed her the second she left the office, too afraid for
her safety to allow her to leave alone. If he lost her now, he would die
himself. He sat on the edge of the bed and read the words slowly.

It wasn’t long before his own tears had mixed with hers, and the words on
the paper became a blur.

I found a wrinkled paper
On which you had scrawled my name
You wrote down that you loved me
Did you know I felt the same

I found a faded rose
Pressed inside your favorite book
I had twelve on my desk one day
And that’s the one you took

I found a little teddy bear
That said, ‘My Heart Belongs To You’
You had written your name next to ‘from’
And my name was printed by ‘To’

I found myself alone tonight
Wondering where you are
Wondering if you can see me
And if my love travels that far

I found myself hating you
For leaving me this way
And I found myself loving you
And letting you go today

I found a box of tissue
I sat in your floor and cried
There were a million things left unsaid
And I never even tried

I found a pen and paper
And wrote ‘I love you too’
I have nothing else to give
My heart will beat for you

~The End

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