~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Scooping his son up into his arms, Angel sighed, watching as Connor pointed out the woman he loved. "Delia!" He laughed. "Pretty..."
Angel's heart hurt. "That she is." He whispered, looking at his son.
"Delia come home now?" Connor, the epitome of innocence, looked just like his father. He'd grown into a smart, handsome six year old with a penchance for taking apart anything electrical of his Uncle Wesley's.
Angel let out a sigh, "Soon Connor." He said quietly, "Soon."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Ryan's changed...
I'm miserable. I want Wesley, Gunn and Fred. I want my friends back, my life...Ryan loves me, I know he does but he always questions what I'm thinking, when I'm thinking it. Who I'm thinking of...do I still think of Angel. He asks me all the time and it's getting to be too much. Of course I think of Angel but...I loved Ryan, really I did. I never got over Angel, I never would, I think I just...learned to live without him. It wasn't easier, not by a long shot. I keep seeing his face, that question of...why did you let me die? He was my best friend and I killed him. Fact of the matter is I don't think I'll *ever* get over it, how could I? Loving me is what got him killed and...I don't know that this can be made better.
I've changed. I'm no longer the person I once was. Experiences in prison hardened me. Experiences with Angel made me believe I was better and during all of this, I've fallen in between. I'm not Queen C anymore, that's pretty much a given. Am I Cordy? Or Delia maybe? Doyle used to call me that...Delia. Or...Cora. That's what Ryan calls me, Cora. It's a nice name but...but it's not Cordy. I wish that just once I could hear his voice call out my name like he used to. God, even when he was angry at me...or...those last few months, when he kept searching my eyes, hoping and praying for the forgiveness he craved. The forgiveness I never gave. Would he forgive me?
Spend all your time waiting
for that second chance
for a break that would make it okay
there's always some reason
to feel not good enough
and it's hard at the end of the day
I need some distraction
oh beautiful release
memory seeps from my veins
let me be empty
and weightless and maybe
I'll find some peace tonight
In the arms of an angel
fly away from here
from this dark cold hotel room
and the endlessness that you fear
you are pulled from the wreckage
of your silent reverie
you're in the arms of the angel
may you find some comfort there
So tired of the straight line
and everywhere you turn
there's vultures and thieves at your back
and the storm keeps on twisting
you keep on building the lie
that you make up for all that you lack
it don't make no difference
escaping one last time
it's easier to believe
in this sweet madness oh
this glorious sadness
that brings me to my knees
In the arms of an angel
fly away from here
from this dark cold hotel room
and the endlessness that you fear
you are pulled from the wreckage
of your silent reverie
you're in the arms of the angel
may you find some comfort there
you're in the arms of the angel
may you find some comfort here
So ironic this song, isn't it? The one place I could find comfort were his arms. I felt safe. Ryan's kneeling in front of me searching my eyes with his own and asking me that damned question again. "What are you thinking of?" I want to say YOU...but I can't do that to him, so I say nothing. Now he's getting mad...just another turn in this twisted thing I call Life.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
(Angel's Thoughts)
It's getting close to Christmas now and...no Cordy. I heard Wes and Gunn talking in the office today. Wesley told him that hopes of Cordelia ever returning were slim. I could almost hear Gunn getting angry. Wesley pointed out the fact that if Cordelia comes back, "Angel could get a little...TOO happy..."
To which Gunn replied, "Which might lead to another epiphany? Which might lead to my OWN epiphany..." And it was then that I walked away. I'm deceiving my friends. How can I tell them though? I keep up the pretense, keep up the lie. It isn't fair, of course it isn't. But on this side, I'm safer...
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
This could possibly be one of the worst days of my life. He hit me. This morning. I swore that if EVER a man hit me I'd leave rightaway but I've got nowhere else to go. He got annoyed because I was thinking. Predictably of Angel. This morning, when he went out I ran to the chemists getting the things I needed and now? I wait.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"AM NOT, AM NOT, AM NOT!"
"Are too, are too, are...Connor, just put the damned shoes on!" Said Wesley, exasperated. Angel watched, bemused as Wesley argued playfully with his son. "Connor?" Angel raised an eyebrow, eliciting a frown from Connor and then a small foot being held up, "You's mean sometimes, Daddy." He said firmly.
Angel laughed, "I get that a lot." He said softly.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Oh God, ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgod...
How? Well I know HOW but... *HOW*???
I mean...I can't be...oh God...
I'm 26 years old and...pregnant...with Ryan's child. He bought me a bunch of flowers, said he was sorry...and I believed him, I really did but...oh God, I'm pregnant...
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Where do you think she is?" Asked Fred softly.
Wesley frowned, every day she asked the same question and every day his answer was the same, "She could be anywhere," He said, although softly.
Fred nodded, "I know...it's just weird her not being here..."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The thing that struck me odd about Ryan was that he never talked about his past. And now I know why. Okay, so we all know that I'm a very...curious person...but...these I wasn't even looking for. I was looking for some superglue! I smashed a vase and didn't want a repeat episode of his fist flying into my face so I went looking and...he has pictures of me...of Angel...Wesley...GOD EVEN DOYLE! WHY???
I feel rather like a sixtie's English woman, waiting for her partner to come in, standing with the rolling pin in her hand waiting for him to walk through the door so she can bash him over the head with it. But I'm not holding a rolling pin. I'm holding up a stake. A stake that looks kinda familiar...
When I was locked in Prison, I found out the name of the slayer. Leigh. Her name was Leigh Andrews. Very American. And etched into the side of the stake is one name. Leigh Andrews. And in it, a photo...not only was she *not* the next slayer. But she was a vampire. And Ryan has unsavoury connections of his own of a law firm that's not only based in Los Angeles, but also in New Jersey, Texas, Chicago...to name but a few. This twisted thing called life, huh?