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I know something's wrong. Lying here in bed, my eyes flitting over every crack in the ceiling, I know. Getting out of bed, I have to go back...
I think I've just broken every speed restriction area in LA getting to this damned hospital. Something's wrong. I can feel it, I know it's close and...I don't want to go in but I have to. When I got to the door, things just kinda went in slow motion. Memories flitted through my head, of her...of the things she used to say to me. Oh God, my wonderful, beautiful Seer is a horrid, painful shade of white, tinged with...blue...
No...I'm going to walk over there and...she's going to be fine. She's going to be fine and we're going to live happily ever after. That's what happens in the movies, right? My Cordy's fine. Only...she's not...falling to my knees, a sob escaping my lips, I clutch her cold hand. My Cordy's dead. Why? How could this happen??? HOW??? SHE WAS FINE!
My gaze drifts down. A letter, addressed to me in her handwriting...opening it quickly I search for answers, a sense of solace, an absolution...anything. Instead...I get assaulted by the smell of her perfume, wafting from her cold body. I get assaulted with memories, I get pain...falling back, I hit the floor, my eyes blurring as I began to read.
Angel,
I wish I knew how to start this letter Angel. Should I say hey or...hi...or Dear Angel. This is the hardest thing I'll *ever* have to write, I still can't believe I'm actually writing it. I keep praying that you'll walk through that door and none of this would have happened, my daughter will be normal. God, that's such a cruel thing to say. Probably wondering what I'm talking about, huh 'Grrr guy'?
I had a vision. And I sound like Martin Luther King...God, my sarcasm hasn't even left me yet...I know this'll make you smile, or at least...I hope...I mean, y'know? That smile lit up my life, seeing it was the best thing in the world for me...up until I saw you with our son...our daughter. That sounds so strange, me with children or...not as the case is here. Okay, back to the vision. Our daughter was to become a Slayer, Angel. And on her 17th birthday, she'd die. How could I let that happen? Maybe I should have come to you with this but...I was offered a way out. A sure-proof way of making our child safe. She won't BE a Slayer anymore. Was this selfish? Maybe...but watching Buffy, Faith - God, even you, I couldn't let our child live like that, fighting...constantly wondering if her next fight would be her last one.
Time's running out, I guess...they'll be here in a second. They've promised me. Promised me that my baby won't be a Slayer anymore and I believe them. You're probably wondering why though...I mean, they're not exactly trustworthy or anything but...God, you're SO going to kill me for this but...let me say that first, I didn't want this to happen but...our child. She's an important prophetic or whatever...part in whatever Wolfram and Hart have planned. They told me that if she wasn't a Slayer, she'd be more beneficial to them. I know this is selfish and I'm sorry. I've risked thousands of lives for our daughter and why? Because I believe in *you* Angel. We've thwarted prophecies before, you've saved me from lots of unspeakable evil but...this seemed like my only way out.
I love you. I love Wesley, Gunn, Fred, that new Girl who Gunn's obviously dating seemed nice and...I love our son. I love him so, so much. And...our daughter. Angel, it was far better that I did it this way than find out months down the line that our daughters life couldn't be saved. Tell them I love them. Our friends, our children. Tell them that I'll miss them, miss seeing them grow up and...oh damn, I promised myself I wouldn't cry. Wimp. Tell them that...I'll always be there for them, even though they can't see me.
And you. You know I love you. I only fear that you don't know how much. You're my best friend Angel. I couldn't have wished for something better than what you gave. When I first came to LA, I had nothing. Sorry, let me rephrase that. I had a grubby little apartment, a Neiman Marcus dress (just one) and a nice pair of shoes. Not a condo in sight. And you took me in. You befriended me when you didn't have to (well, I sorta made you kinda, didn't I? But you love me for it all the same...), you helped me when you *really* didn't have to. And you loved me when I had no reason to expect or deserve it. You're one of a kind Angel and I'm not talking about the whole en-souled vampire gig. I'm talking about your heart. The one that, when I felt it beat beneath my fingertips, I knew it was right. The one that loved me for all my imperfections, my early morning ogre...my snippishness, everything.
I know you're crying now. Because I am too. But...know that I love you and I will always, always be with you.
Love Always,
Cordy
-x-
I don't understand...why? WHY DID SHE DO THIS? We could have worked something out...oh God, Cordy. Leaning forward, I brush my lips against her forehead and turn to pick our child up...she's not there. And suddenly, I know exactly where to look. Anger takes over grief, albeit briefly, and in the words of the woman I love? This is *SO* not happening...
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I don't think I've ever felt this mad. I've gathered the team together, minus Fred who stayed with Connor and Justine. Seeing her cry was possibly the saddest thing ever. She and Cordy were friends. Good friends. Wesley went pale and Gunn punched a wall. We all deal differently I guess. This time though, we have a couple of friends tagging along, Faith, already out of prison and in words of her own, "Ready to kick some evil lawyer ass..."
And Lindsey McDonald, for legal purposes...should the need arise. Lindsey and Faith have been together for a while, keeping it under wraps. I don't actually think anyone knows about it but I've noticed. And I hate them for being even remotely happy. I've turned into Cynicist Number 1...and if I don't get my child back? I swear, I'll be having another epiphany.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I think they expected us coming. "What makes you think you can just walk out of here?" Asks Lilah Morgan, smugly and boy, do I hate that bitch. I have my child firmly in my arms and am locked in a battle of wills with the bastard that made this all happen. "So, real estate, huh?" I ask, glaring at Gavin Park, "Seems like children are a little...out of your league?"
"I can hold my own."
"I sure hope you can..." My voice has become dangerously low, "Come at me through my family again and we'll find out what you're really like holding your own."
"This is all very well and good but can we put the misogynistic tendencies away for five minutes?" Asked Lilah, rolling her eyes, "I repeat: What makes you think you can just walk out of here?"
"That would be me." This is Lindsey's moment of glory, stepping from behind the shadows and smiling. "You're looking...well...Lilah." He says pointedly. "Unless you want copies of every 'Project' we undertook together to go to every different law firm in America, I suggest you listen to Angel."
Lilah's eyes darkened, "Don't you think we've prepared for this?" She asked, bluffing.
Lindsey smiled, "No, I don't think you have."
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** Later That Night **
"Look Spike, either you'll do it or you won't...what's it going to be?" I ask, becoming increasinly frustrated by the second.
"Okay, but there'll be none o' that watching the purple freakin' dinasour..." Says the peroxide blonde vampire, "Just for a couple o' days, right?"
I smile, "Yes, just a couple of days." As I'm going to replace the receiver, I hear his voice, "Angel?"
"What?"
"I was sorry to hear 'bout Cordelia. She was a good kid, y'know?" It strikes me as odd that he would say this but I'm grateful none the less.
"I know."
"Angel...are you sure about this?" I'm greeted with Fred, standing, her eyes red and puffy as I replace the receiver. Slowly, I nod.
Fred sighed, "I guess you aren't that selfish after all..." She whispered sadly.