Pairings: A/C
Spoilers: Everything up to but not including Birthday
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Someone makes a choice following a vision of Cordelia's...
Disclaimer: They belong to David Greenwalt, Joss Whedon etc...
Feedback: Love it, need it, crave it... "It's like a Sickness..."
Dedication: To all the people who give me feedback - you guys, rock!!!
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It was that last letter that did it. That last vision. Phantom Dennis had watched as his best friend in this life and his old one had cried, sobbed... And read the letter over her shoulder like he did after every vision. She'd made him promise. She'd threatened Evita - but he could even live with the Madonna version he hated - as long as it was Cordelia Chase who was playing it. She'd told him after she found out the visions were killing her that Angel could never know. She treated him like a person - talked to him. Told him about the visions - and when he couldn't provide her comfort, she wrote letters. Letters to herself, explaining how she felt, the words she couldn't say. But she said he helped! Okay, so he couldn't answer back, could only write responses down on paper but he was a friend. He was her friend... And he wasn't willing to watch her die. Nor was he willing to let Angel and the others walk through the door and find her body... Her beautiful soul taken from it. So when Cordelia slept, Phantom Dennis switched on the computer...
Typing in keywords until he found what he was looking for (and ultimately pleased with himself for being able to use this newfangled internetty thing) Dennis waited as the page for the "Fastest Delivery Service In LA" loaded, albeit impatiently... And quickly typed in details... Cordelia's address and credit card details... Angel's address...
And then he heard a beep. In twenty minutes, someone would be by to collect a letter... Someone at the other end would need to sign... Phantom Dennis took the last letter from her book, careful not to wake her and placed it in an envelope addressed to Angel. Placing a $20 bill tip (from Cordelia's purse - naughty Phantom!), he waited... Impatiently... Until the knock came at the door and slid the letter underneath along with the bill.
"Thank you!" Called the voice, nervously, expecting something from a true horror movie to arrive... When nothing did, the delivery boy turned and left, heading for the hotel.
When Dennis turned to look back at Cordelia, she slept on the couch
- however not soundly, her dreams were filled with visions, the things
she'd seen during the painful messages that she was conduit for. Phantom
Dennis sighed... (or would've if he could), praying that the letter would
get to Angel and quickly...
* * * * *
Right on cue, fifteen minutes later (within the hour as was promised) the delivery guy arrived at the hotel, going inside and ringing the bell. "Letter for... Uh... Mr. Angel, registered delivery... Hello?"
*I hate this job.* He thought, shaking his head.
A letter? Who'd send him a letter? Wasn't like he really knew anyone - unless, Buffy but... Wouldn't she have called? Shrugging, Angel took the letter, signed and offered the guy a $5 tip.
"Gee, even the guy I never saw was more generous than you..."
Angel rolled his eyes and sat down, beginning to read...
Dear Me,
I'll read this tomorrow and wonder what crap I was yammering about after the last vision. Kids this one. And pain. It hurts. It's killing me... Well, we all knew that...
I take so many painkillers right now... If he ever finds out, he'll freak. And isn't THAT the understatement of the century? Decade... Millennium? I hate that I'm the one that causes Angel to brood more. I hate the fact that I'm lying to him, but how can I do much else? If I admit for even one second that these visions are killing me... Then I'm admitting that I'm not as strong as I like to think. And then, I'm admitting that I have a weakness. And if I admit that I have a weakness? I have to admit to you that I'm dying. I've known for a while now. They told me... Told me in a vision, ironically... Me, a vision, BIG pain, HUGE... Then you, Gunn, Wes and Fred, attending my funeral, at night, for you... All dressed in black. Except you. For once, you've taken my advice and gone without the black. If it didn't hurt so much, it might have made me smile. But as it were, seeing your brain (or at least feeling it) fall through the back of your head won't ever be fun. I'm dying. Seems so easy thinking of it like this, but it's when I *really* start to think about it that my life falls into a tailspin. How can I be dying? I know I was a bad person back when but... Bad enough to die for? I didn't think so... Maybe I was wrong.
Sitting here right now, I dream of YOUR Shanshu. I dream of you walking through the door like you did those months ago, and me appreciating it like I would now. Me, throwing my arms around your neck and telling you what I want to tell you now. That I think I love you but I'm afraid. Afraid that I'm going to get to tell you and these dumb ass visions will kill me and take me out of your life. Take me out of mine.
I've researched. I've seen the books, though they were hard to get. I've kept them for my own personal collection when I'm feeling particularly bitter so that I can stare at the words until they blur with tears. Y'know, the words that say 'humans simply can't handle the burden' or 'can't physically withstand the pain'. See, I've even memorized them. You'd think I'd be screaming. You'd think I'd be on my knees yelling at the injustice of it all. I'm not even 21 yet, how can I be dying? Why are they doing this to me? I'm their Vision Girl. But I'm a soldier. I'm a warrior too, in my own way that is. I'm Cordy. I'm Angel's Cordy... Because he brought out the best in me. He *brings* out the best in me. He brought out Cordy.
So, here I am, dying - yet soldiering on. The last vision, took it out of me more than usual, making me wonder. Will it be the next one? Or the one after that? Will I see my Mom again? My Dad? Will I get to see Angel's Shanshu? Probably not. He doesn't know that every time I sit down, I see them. Every time I close my eyes... Even when I don't, I see them inside. Eyeball in the back of the head girl... Knife in the eye guy... The guy that got killed for his wallet... All of them. I see them all. He doesn't know that even at the end of the case, it hurts. He doesn't know that I sit here and cry until I sleep. He doesn't know I'm dying - none of them do. Maybe one day they will, probably not, 'cause I won't tell them. Not now, not ever. I chose to keep these visions when I *could* have given them to Groo and why? Because not only are they a part of the job... They're a part of me and I can't ever give them up. Ever.
I'm not bitter. I can pretend it doesn't hurt. So tell me one thing... Why am I crying?
Cordelia
Oh God, Oh God... It felt like he was hyperventilating... Well, he couldn't breathe so *that* wasn't possible but... Cordy, dying??? How could she be dying? And why in the HELL would she send him this? Why couldn't she just have TOLD him???
He grabbed his duster off the back of the door and got into his car,
driving to her apartment... Remembering their conversation earlier...
* * * *
"Hey. It's done. The kids are all home... Probably been spanked and sent to bed for making up stories about monsters." Said Angel. Sensing the hesitation, he spoke again. "Cordy? Are you alright?"
"Fine." She'd lied. "I'll see you at the office tomorrow."
He'd hung up - but if he thought about it, she was awfully to get them out of the way after a vision lately... And she had seemed weird over the past few weeks and... Was he blind? Angel drove, breaking almost every speed limit in LA until he got to her apartment, hammering on her door.
"Cordelia! Open up!" He yelled...
Part Two
The wood splintered and cracked before Cordelia even made it off her sofa. The pounding in her head had tripled since brood boy had began pounding on the door and she frowned, glaring as he entered her apartment. "What the hell are you doing?" She asked, raising a hand to her head. It hurt. It definitely hurt. "Who died? Couldn't you have waited until I'd gotten to the door?" Cordelia pulled her bathrobe around her and it was then that Angel noticed how small she looked, huddled on her sofa. How lost she looked in the depths of a robe that was too large for her. Above all though, Angel knew Cordelia was about comfort. It seemed that the clothes of old, the ones that had the all important expensive tag on them had been replaced for comfort, how well they would come out in the wash after being covered in demon goo. She'd changed.
"Oh God, who died?" Her voice cracked and Angel realised he'd been staring at her, a sombre look on his face without saying a word since he charged through the door. Or barrelled. Barrelled his way in was good terminology. She'd make him pay for that... Or, maybe she wouldn't. Maybe once she knew what he was there for, she'd...
"Angel, you're scaring me." She whispered, stepping forward. "Is it Connor? Wesley? Gunn? Fred? Buffy... Oh, Buffy... It's not, right?"
What happened to you? Thought Angel, Why do you care more about other people than you do yourself? Riches to rags was a comedown... But you should never have started putting other people before yourself. And certainly not me. I don't deserve it.
"ANGEL!" She yelled. "What happened? Is it Connor?"
Dumbly, Angel raised his hand, passing over the letter, scrawled in her girlie-neat handwriting. "I... This." He said quietly. "This. Why didn't you tell me?"
Cordelia sucked in her breath, "What the hell is... How did you get this?" She asked.
"You."
"Me?"
"Yeah, you. 'The Fastest Delivery Service This Side of Los Angeles'..." He murmured sardonically.
"I didn't send you th - Dennis?" It was then that Cordelia noticed her bag lying open on the table. Her credit card. "I swear, I'm going to kill you." Said Cordelia, "I mean it, really I am. You think Madonna is bad? Wait 'til I lay my hand on the Britney Spears album, you are SO going to wish you'd never been born, Dennis. Or died for that matter. You're going to wish I'd never moved in here."
"Why didn't you tell me?" His voice was quiet, choked with emotion.
That's why. Thought Cordelia. Because seeing the look on your face right now is worse than even I'd imagined. I hate doing this to you.
"Because." She said quietly, "Because you had enough to deal with... Buffy and Connor and Holtz and..."
"Buffy? When did Buffy come into this?" Asked Angel.
Cordelia sighed and shook her head, "She died."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Clueless much? Angel, you loved her and she'd died." Said Cordelia gently, "Then... Darla came back and..."
"How long have you known?"
Her shoulders slumped forward and Cordelia closed her eyes, "The killer visions." She said softly. "Since the killer visions."
"But then... It could have been wrong. If those were what Lilah had sent you..."
"No, Angel." Two words and a pause were all it took to shatter the only hope he'd had since opening that letter. No, you're wrong. She's dying and there's nothing you can do about it. He wagered that if he could grab hold of that voice at the back of his head, he'd throttle it.
"It was after that..." Continued Cordelia. "The day after. After I'd talked to you about... Billy and everything."
"I knew." Said Angel, quietly. "I knew something was wrong, I just thought that..."
"Angel, you're not psychic." Said Cordelia, "I didn't expect you to know what was going on."
"But I should've..."
"You should've what?" She asked.
"Do you really see everything?" It was a simple question, one he needed to know the answer to.
"Please." She whispered, her head falling forward, her hair hiding her face, "Don't start pulling this apart..."
"SOMEONE has to!"
"Why?" She asked, "Why can't you just leave it?"
"Because... Cordelia, you're dying, this isn't a game!"
"It isn't, gee, I wasn't all that sure." She said, dryly. "Angel, I'm dealing."
"By pretending it isn't happening, by lying to us. That's not dealing. And that's not like you. You don't run away from problems, you face them head on, Cordelia, when..."
"Okay, let's talk. You want to know what it was like, watching the back of my head being blown off by a vision? Terrifying, heart wrenching. Do you want to know what it was like seeing you at my funeral? You weren't wearing black, you were wearing red. My favourite colour. And you were crying."
"You didn't think I would?"
"I knew you would! Angel, it's hard enough admitting that I'm dying without having to cope with everyone else knowing I am too."
"Damnit Cordelia, that's what friends DO though. Do you expect us NOT to care? Is that it? Do you expect us just to let this slide over our heads?"
"No." She whispered, "I expect you to let me go."
Angel clammed up. He closed his eyes and looked down at the floor, "You... Expect us to let you go?" He asked quietly.
She nodded. "Angel, if I think that you guys won't be okay without me..."
"How will we be? You're dying."
"You have to let me go." She said quietly, "You have to just... Not brood for a start. Angel, you've touched my life in ways I never thought possible. Without you, I'd be pretty much... Well, dead. I'd be vamp food to Russell Winters or I'd still be..."
"You'd still be what?"
"Cordelia." She said gently. "I'd still be Cordelia, I wouldn't be Cordy that's for certain."
"Why aren't you bitter? Why don't you hate me?"
"Duh, 'cause I love you." She said, shaking her head, "You did read that part, right?"
Angel nodded and sighed, "I love you too."
"I know. I was just too dumb and stupid for like EVER to admit it."
"Let me find a cure?"
Cordelia met his eyes, "I won't get my hopes up." She said gently, "But I can't stop you."
"Damned right."
Still huddled in her bathrobe, Cordelia sat looking up at him. "Look, Angel, I kinda just... Wanted to thank you for..."
"There's no need."
"Yes, there is."
Angel sat next to her, taking her hands in his. "Listen to me, you don't have to thank me for anything, okay? And I will find a cure. I love you." Said Angel, simply. "I never was that good at expressing how I felt... And you reduce me to a bumbling Dork every time I try to tell you the way I feel. I will find a cure, because I'm not ready to let you go. Not when I just found you."
Cordelia sighed. This would be so much easier if he would just let her go. But she also knew that Angel wasn't now, nor never would be a quitter. Sad fact was, he'd find a cure or die trying for it and Cordelia knew the next thing that would come - would be giving up his redemption. "Promise me." When Cordelia spoke, her voice was pleading, "Promise me that you won't give up your redemption for me. Promise."
Meeting her eyes, Angel said as gently as possible, "Do you want me to lie to you? Cordelia, I didn't ask to love you. I didn't ask for this feeling. It happened. It happened because of who you are and I'd never want it any other way. I love you. I want you in my life."
"That's what worries me, Angel. You've worked so long and so hard for this, your redemption and I think don't I..."
"And it all wouldn't be worth it if you weren't here to share it with me."
"But... Angel, your redemption. Turning human, sunshine - all those things you'll never have."
"And all those things I'll never want unless you're with me."
"You're making this too hard."
"Which is good, 'cause then you can't give up and you have to stick around 'til I find your cure."
"You're so stubborn." Said Cordelia, morosely. She didn't want this, didn't want him to give up his Shanshu, not for her.
And on the other side of the scale, Angel knew he was dooming their relationship before it began - because if he gave up his redemption to give her life, then he couldn't give her the normal life she needed.
It seemed, that the Powers That Be had delivered a crushing blow. No matter which way he turned - he lost her. But, fact was? He'd rather have her happy and in the sunshine than not in his life. That, to Angel, was all that mattered.
He hugged her. And for a while, they were Cordy and Angel. Not vampire and Seer, not champion and half-warrior (as she'd call herself). For a while, they could pretend.
And as Cordelia closed her eyes - she secretly thanked Dennis... Then smiled as she realised Mrs. Cookson upstairs still had the Britney Spears CD...
Oh yes. Payback was a bitch and her name was Cordelia. She'd
let him sweat for a while...
*End*