Spoilers: All Seasons
Summary: Angsty Angel piece...he watches Cordelia for a little while...
Rating: PG-13
Distribution: Anywhere, just ask.
Disclaimer: We all know who's they are!!
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Every morning I woke up to that smile, that bright, sunnier-than-thou smile that seemed to be my lifeline. But if you look closely, you'll see. You'll see the sun behind it is fading. The light behind her eyes is dimming and I'm not sure how much more of this she can take. To look at her, she's a normal 20 year old woman, her whole life stretched out ahead of her for the world to see. In a different, kinder world, she'd have found love now...or maybe fame, fortune. Something...better?
Instead she has me. She has the life that my redemption has forsaken her to. She has visions. Cordelia isn't normal. She tries to be and sometimes she tries so valiantly that I almost believe it myself because Cordelia Chase has not now, nor shall never be, a quitter. And now I wish she was. I wish she were a quitter. I wish she'd say to hell with me and my redemption because they're killing her. She told me this morning. I want to kill Doyle and yet I know it isn't his fault - him already being dead and all, kinda works against me.
"Angel?" I was changing Connor when I heard her voice and looked up. There was that smile. That 10,000 watt Cordelia Chase smile only...it was only about...hmmm...60 watt maybe? My eyes lingered on her way longer than was absolutely necessary. She looks so tired, so... "I have something to tell you." She says softly. She takes Connor from me and bounces him on her knee, eliciting a giggle from my son and her smile gets a little brighter. Did I know I was such an insensitive asshole? "Let me guess." I grin, "Your inevitable stardom kicked in and you're leaving us." Bastard. She looks like I've just punched her.
I don't think I've ever been prepared for the sight of my Seer, my Cordy, breaking down in front of me. I don't think I'd ever BE prepared for the sight of her hugging my son and crying into his soft little skin. He knows that something's bad. He's crying too. And God, but I'm trying not to. Forgive me Cordelia. Forgive me for not being strong when you need me to be. Gingerly, I sit next to you and reluctantly, you look up, offering me a winning smile that just seems to drag my heart down even further because you're doing it again. You're being strong. You're being YOU. The you I love. The you I want...the you I don't think I can live without. There he is again. That Bastard. That selfish bastard. "Wh-what's wrong?" I reach out a shaky hand to touch you and you look at me. "I-It's the visions." You say quietly. Why, with that one word do I *know* what's coming? Visions. Martin Luther King had a vision, did it kill him? Whoever made the damned Beatles had a vision, did it kill them?
Bitterness. It engulfs me. Wants to drag me down and boy do I want to go. But if I go there, it means leaving you all over again, just like I did the last time and I won't. "What about the visions?" Will hearing the words make it easier? Or make it harder?
"See, the thing is...when Doyle...he didn't know...the visions aren't meant for humans, Angel." Connor's asleep now and you lift him, taking him and placing him in his crib where he snores lightly. You stand there, watching him and I realise that this, what's happening now? It's my worst nightmare. Losing Buffy, killing so many people...every act Angelus and I committed over the past few years raged through my head at this point and yet I could find none as heartbreakingly sad as this. You look so tired. Last night, your previous vision. You sobbed, begged me not to leave after it had ended and...I stayed. For all of five minutes until you said that if someone died...because of you...you'd never forgive yourself. So, what about you then, Cordelia? You're dying...because of me...and how can I forgive myself?
"Is this really happening?" I ask you. And you turn to me, hug me...comfort me. And I push you away. "Stop being so strong, dammit! Let me take care of YOU! Don't...don't act like this isn't happening, please..." I'm begging. I know I'm cruel and heartless and a bastard for saying these things to you but...dammit Cordelia, start thinking about yourself! I tell you of this thought and you smile at it's irony. You thinking of everyone else but yourself for a change. But...you have. You have changed. I know you have...I've watched you grow from a woman who didn't know her place in the world to a woman who does...to woman who's dying for her place in the world.
"You do know that...I'll never leave you?" You ask. I can hear my own heart breaking...or is that yours? I nod. "As long as you're here...as long as Connor's here, I will be too." You whisper.
"Cordy?"
You look up at me. "I love you." I say quietly and I hate that a pained look crosses your face. "Are you telling me this 'cause I'm dying? 'Cause that's mean."
And I shake my head, "I'm telling you this because I love you. Because I really do love you...really am in love with you." You step into my arms and for a while, we're just Angel and Cordelia. Not vampire and Seer. Not employer and employee. We're just us. Reality falls away, and you're happy.
And then it starts again. Your body tenses up in my arms. It lasts, maybe a few seconds...then it's gone and you're left sobbing...the brief happiness you said you felt when I told you I loved you now gone. Reality slips back in. You had a vision, I could only watch. You're my Seer, I'm a vampire. I'm fighting the good fight, and you're dying. I'm still Angel, you're still Cordelia - and for as long as we're together, I'll fight to give you the normalcy we just shared. Because you deserve it, because you don't deserve to die. Because you're my light. My only light.
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Home, hotel, hotel, husband. Not really all that difficult, is it? At least that was my theory anyway. I'd leave home, my international stardom would kick in, I'd marry a millionaire and my life would be complete. Well, I can honestly say things change. People change. I've certainly changed. Sometimes I find it hard to believe that the person I was is so different to the person I've become.
I've never slept for a couple of weeks now...maybe longer. Now I know. They told me. Told me about the visions, how I wasn't supposed to get them. And I'm dying. Seems so easy, thinking of it like this - it's when I *really* start to think of it that the world falls into a tailspin.
I've known for a month and I haven't told him but now, I have to. "Angel?" He's changing Connor, my son. I see him as my son. Maybe it's wrong but...it's how I feel about him. "I have something to tell you." God, I wish he'd stop staring. To take the focus off of me, I take Connor from him, bounce him up and down on my lap, listening to him giggling.
"Let me guess. Your inevitable stardom kicked in and you're leaving us." My breath catches in my throat and I almost choke on my tears. They slide down my cheeks unbidden and Connor...he provides strength for me that I didn't know I still had left. Hugging his tiny body to mine, I wonder...how can I leave him behind? How can I leave Angel? My friends?
"Wh-what's wrong?" How can I say this to you? Do I just tell you in the previous 'Cordelia Chase tactless way'? No, you deserve more than that. You deserve an explanation...or, okay, let's tell the truth. I can't say I'm dying...I can't say it in the Cordelia Chase tactless way and I can't say it in the Cordy way either. The Cordy that's not such a bitch anymore. I can't say it.
"I-it's the visions..." You know. I can see it in your eyes. You know, Angel. You look so sad, so bitter - in one moment I've taken something from you and I don't think I can ever get it back.
"What about the visions?" Oh God, why do you have to hear the words? Why do I have to tell you? Why can't someone else break your heart? Why me? Why am I dying? Questions. So many of them, they're starting to confuse me. "See, the thing is...when Doyle...he didn't know...the visions aren't meant for humans, Angel."
Rather than look at your face, I take the cowards way out and lift Connor, my darling little boy, and place him in his crib. He looks so peaceful. I wonder if he knows. Maybe he senses that something's wrong. Maybe he doesn't. Your voice drifts to me, so soft, so sad, "Is this really happening?" I'm so sorry, Angel. Forgive me. Turning, I hug you but...you want no part in it. "Stop being so strong, dammit! Let me take care of YOU! Don't...don't act like this isn't happening, please..."
Don't you know that that's all I have right now, Angel? Don't you? Don't you know that it's breaking my heart seeing you like this? How can I stand back and let you deal with this alone? How could I?
"You do know that...I'll never leave you." This is so much harder to say than a simple, 'I'm dying', isn't it? "As long as you're here...as long as Connor's here, I will be too." I whisper, softly.
"Cordy?" No questions I can't answer, please. No telling me that we can fix this, for I know Angel. We can't. I just look at you. "I love you."
This makes me sad. You're telling me this because I'm dying and it hurts. "Are you telling me this 'cause I'm dying?" I have to know, Angel, I'm sorry. "Cause that's mean."
You're shaking your head and I want to ask about HER. I want to ask about Buffy, "I'm telling you this because I love you. Because I really do love you...really am in love with you." And here it is. The happiest moment of my life. You love me. I see it in your eyes and I know that you're telling me the truth. I've known about this for a month. I've known I'd die...and I wanted comfort but I'd never allow myself it. Because being comforted, meant admitting it and I refused...but now? Your arms seems like the only place I'll ever want to be and I step into them.
For a while, I can dream. In a few months time, I'll be pregnant with a baby sister or brother for Connor, you and I are in love, living in the hotel...and everything's fine. I can see you now, brushing away my hair to kiss my neck tenderly...your arms sliding round my waist so you can feel our child shuffling inside of me.
Why is it that happiness is always short-lived? Even in a fantasy world I can't be happy, that's been taken away. It lasts, maybe a few seconds...it feels much longer and I'm crying. I felt happy...you told me you loved me...I was happy. It's gone. Sobbing, I try to hold up my head but even that's too difficult a task for me now. It hurts to much. You look so guilty, so horribly guilty and I manage to lift my head. "This isn't your fault." I whisper. You find it hard to believe, I know you do, Angel. I'm not stupid. We're both crying now. Maybe we've admitted it. I think maybe, now I know. Now I know that there's no turning back the clock. In a few months time, I'll be...a memory...a photograph on the wall, another figure on someone's TV screen, amateur of course, because I didn't make it, right?
Wrong. In the big, glamorous world of show business, I didn't make it. But in every other aspect of my life, I did. I found love with you, Angel. I found a child, I found my friends...I found a family. I found myself. I found Cordy. She was there all along, hiding underneath the surface. You brought out the best in me. You made me find myself, the person I always was just...didn't really know. In loving you, I found myself. I made it, Angel. I did what I set out to do. In the end, money and being famous wasn't important. You taught me that to truly love someone you had to give your heart and soul and that it was the greatest gift I could give. You already had mine.
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Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sun on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awake in the morning's hush,
I am the sweet uplifiting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there. I did not die.
The End