Summary: Cordy's thoughts post Rain of Fire.
Spoilers: Uh, Rain of Fire...
Disclaimer: The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.
Distribution: My site, Nothing Fancy - others? Ask and ye shall receive.
Notes: Not beta'ed... I wrote this while extremely bored at uni (waiting round 2 hours for a stupid News Quiz? Never fun!)
Feedback: You betcha!
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Love knows no reasons, love knows no lies.
Love defies all reasons, love has no eyes.
But love is not blind, love sees but doesn't
mind.
Author - Unknown
***
No matter how much she tries, there's no way can she rationalise it. Can't think of a single thing to say to make this situation better and that used to come so easily to her.
It makes her think of all the times that she and Angel have been talking, whether he's been brooding about Buffy or the things he did during his beige period and that's when she remembers - the good old times for her are a thing of the past. There'll be no more sitting on Angel's bed and chatting about sons and the recommended weekly allowance for parents this side of the 21st century. There'll be no more sitting around the tree at Christmas and exchanging gifts, the simplicity of the friendship that Cordelia used to love.
She feels bad.
Worse than that.
She feels awful.
Something real? Families are real, friendships cultivated through years of battling side by side are real - real isn't what she just shared with Connor. Real isn't the fumbled ministrations of a boy just 18 years old.
Real was her life months ago when things seemed simple.
Real was her life when she'd known that she was in love with Angel, that they could get past whatever was going to be thrown against them because that was what they did...
They survived.
They lived.
They loved.
And now, it's over.
Really, it was over before it ever began. Being shown his past, how much joy Angelus took in hurting people, seeing the fear and the hurt not through the eyes of Buffy, smarting from Angel's most recent attack, not even through the eyes of his victims... But through his.
Seeing him torture and maim, because it was fun, because he liked doing it.
Nothing will ever compare to that but even as she sits here, it doesn't matter.
What was that quote?
Something about love not being blind? Something about seeing... But not minding? She doesn't remember where she heard it but she knows why she thought about it now.
That stuff shouldn't have mattered. Angel had always, always been up front with her about his past. Always. It wasn't like she was walking into this not knowing what he'd done...
She accepted his past, accepted him - so what changed?
Trudging up the steps and into the lobby, Cordelia pauses outside the door, clothes pulled haphazardly around her.
Back at the attic and Connor's sleeping like a baby, the irony of it all hitting her like a fist. She knows that what she did was wrong, what she gave Connor wasn't real... Wasn't even remotely *right*...
She's given him hope - she sees what's there in his eyes and sometimes it isn't even about getting back at Angel. Connor loves her and it's Cordelia who's going to have to take that hope away but first...
Pushing open the door, she steps inside, glancing around a second.
"Fred?" That, from Gunn, worried and strained, like maybe he doesn't really expect her to walk back into the hotel.
"No, it's just... It's me." She says softly, "Are you guys alright?"
"Y'mean aside from the concussion from hell?" Gunn nods, "Sure."
"Are you alright?" Asks Wesley, "You look... Shaken."
"Yeah, I..." Pausing, Cordelia turned, seeing him walk down the stairs.
He doesn't speak, just stands there at the bottom, hands thrust into his pockets.
"You're hurt." She whispers softly.
"I'll live."
Neither of them pick up on the obvious comment that would have come. Angel won't live because generally? Dead things don't.
"Angel--"
"I saw you."
Cordelia stops in her tracks, her eyes widening, "You... When?"
"Earlier." His voice was cold, but not devoid of all emotion. The wounds inside hurt worse than the outside. "I want you to leave."
"I- But... You're hurt. You need patched up." She whispers, her mind flashing back to months ago standing in thie very same spot in the hotel...
***
"You sure you don't need some patching up yourself?" Asks Cordelia softly, watching him. She knows Groo's waiting but something stops her from going.
"No, I-I'm good. Didn't hurt a bit." He smiles.
***
"Not from you," Replies Angel, jolting Cordelia back to the present. "Get out."
The tears come thick and fast, welling up in Cordelia's eyes and dropping onto her shirt.
If he'd just look at her, meet her eyes just once, he'd see how sorry she was but Angel won't.
Instead, he turns and walks away from her, just like she did all those months ago, down into the lobby where what's left of his family remains...
Cordelia spares him a glance and turns, her heart heavy as she trudges out of the Hyperion.
Love knows no reasons, love knows no lies.
Love defies all reasons, love has no eyes.
But love is not blind, love sees but doesn't
mind.
In accepting Angel she'd accepted all his faults, his past as Angelus and his future, no matter what lay ahead.
Maybe, her first thought was really true. Love saw...
And sometimes, sometimes it did mind.
Because how could he possibly forgive this?
End.