Mary
Season 8/5 (Angel cross over), episode 6.
Acknowledgments: Many thanks to Mel D for beta reading this episode.
Note: The song Cordelia remembers is "Mary" by Patty Griffin.
Cordelia remembered a song about Mary. Not a hymn. Not a church song. Something she heard on the radio once. In particular, she remembered the refrain:
“Jesus says mother I couldn’t stay another day longer.
He flies right by and leaves a kiss upon her face.
While the angels were singing his praises in a blaze of glory,
Mary stays behind and starts cleaning up the place.”
Did Mary resent being the mother of God, Cordelia wondered? The thought was probably blasphemous, but she thought Mary must have. Cordelia sure as hell did. She resented having her body taken over. She resented being nothing but a vessel. And she resented being left behind in her little room, trapped in her atrophying body. She didn’t feel blessed. She felt betrayed and lost. And most of all, she resented the love she still felt for her strange, powerful child.
For the second time in Spike's life he woke up in a coffin. "Very funny pet," he muttered to himself and set about punching at the wood.
Angel couldn’t remember the last time he’d woken up. In order to wake up you first had to sleep and sleep had been difficult of late. Maybe it was losing Connor and Cordy, maybe it was Angelus’ voice still echoing through his head, or maybe it was just the stress of running a law firm. Angel preferred blame taking over Wolfram and Hart, at least that problem could be remedied. He tried to sound like he knew what he was doing. He barked out orders in legalese, but he had no idea what was going on. This was his world now and he was hopelessly bad at it.
It was late, but that didn’t bother him. He sat at his desk pouring over law books, trying to learn enough to run a firm. Problem was, he’d never been the best student. He left school as soon as he could and the only subject he’d ever really excelled at was torture. Which, when you thought about it, wasn’t the least relevant skill a lawyer could have but he’d been trying so hard to leave that behind.
His recent encounter with Angelus had left him shaken. Sure he’d triumphed in the end, but that reminder of his potential for violence and destruction was disturbing. And now Cordy was gone. He hadn’t realized how much he relied on her. For so long he’d had the security of knowing that if he went too far she’d pull him back. Wes was still around, scragglier but still Wes, and he knew he could count on Lorne and Fred and Gunn, especially Gunn, to step up and keep him from going back to the bad place. But it wasn’t just the big; trying-to-lose-your-soul evil that he was worried about, it was the little battles. It was the hundred times a day he oscillated between demon and man, between connecting and shutting down. Cordy knew. She’d seen his recklessness and reined him in. The others – they just didn’t get it. They didn’t see. He was lost in not brooding when raised voices downstairs startled him out of his reverie.
“Where is she?” a familiar voice bellowed.
“I don’t think I should tell you,” Wesley’s voice answered.
Anyone else would have thought he was completely on top of things, but Angel could tell Wesley was terrified and launched himself out the door and down to the main floor, where he was greeted by a highly naked Spike striding toward him with outstretched arms. “Angel,” he said joyfully. “Where’s Buffy?”
Angel was too stunned and distracted by trying to not look down to say anything. “Why are you naked?” he finally asked.
“Little practical joke,” Spike said glancing down casually.
“Now, last I saw her she was in Disneyland. She still there? Is she ok?”
Angel was beyond annoyed. Why was he naked? Why couldn’t people just stay dead anymore? And what was with Spike and Buffy? Any why naked?
“Come here,” Angel said grabbing Spike and dragging him into the elevator.
“Hey, hey, what’s this?” Spike protested.
Once inside Angel spun to face him, “Ok, I want answers.”
“And I want to speak to Buffy.”
“Ok, first, how do you even know about her trip to Disneyland? You’ve been dead for four months.”
“Long story, I want to talk to her.”
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
“Why?”
“Cause she’s happy and you and I both know you can only mess that up.”
“Do we?”
“Yes. She needs time, she needs to bake.”
Spike was momentarily confused into silence. “Like muffins?”
“No, like cookies, but I guess muffins work too. Is there such thing as muffin dough? There must be.”
Spike tilted his head and looked at Angel bemusedly. “Huh, lack of sexual contact can drive a man mad.”
Angel just rolled his eyes in response. “She wants to be alone, she told me. She needs to figure out who she is before she gets into another torrid…thing.”
“She told you that?”
“Yeah after she beat Caleb.”
“Well maybe she was just letting you down easy.”
“Spike,” Angel said wearily. “You know I’m right. All that pressure, all she’s had to put aside. She has to deal with that now.”
Spike thought back to what the Lite Brite demon had told him. “Alright, but she’s ok?”
“Yes. I promise.”
Angel led Spike to his office and asked Harmony to get some clothes. Spike strode in and sat down in the chair across from Angel’s. Angel made a mental note to never sit in that chair again.
“Well I guess I need to-“ Spike began.
“Find a reason to go on living?”
“Yeah.”
“I know, been there.”
“Well you survived and I’m twice the man you are so…”
Angel let the gibe go on account of the lost look on Spike’s face. He remembered how hard it had been to get on with life after Buffy and, bravado aside, Spike undoubtedly had it ten times worse. He had always loved so obsessively. Angel looked at Spike with compassion and a fair amount of guilt. If he hadn’t made Drusilla…
“You could…” Angel said quietly.
“What’s that?”
“You could…If you want to…you know, fight evil. We always need…”
“You offerin’ me a job?”
“Well, you did save the world, which I totally would have done if you hadn’t.”
“Totally? You’re two hundred and eighty.”
“So I can’t say totally?”
“No you can’t. Stop embarrassing yourself.”
“Fine. Look, you want the job or not?”
Spike considered the idea for a moment. There were worse ways to pay the blood bills. And being able to torment Angel; whenever he liked could be nice.”
“I’ll take it.”
Angel wasn't brooding he was... contemplating. But somehow the contemplating didn't feel right. The light streaming through the windows was really throwing him off. He was having a hell of a time tormenting himself over his decision to send Connor away with the unfamiliar and slightly alarming sensation of sunlight on his skin. It was even harder to properly mourn Cordelia.
Angel decided to remedy the situation by taking his private elevator down to her hospital room. As he entered the room he felt better immediately. They'd set it up exactly like her old apartment, even managed to transfer Dennis. Between the watchful ghost and the doctors she was monitored around the clock. Shamen were constantly working on healing spells and Fred had been using the resources of the science department to image and study Cordy's brain function.
But still she slept.
He gazed down at her increasingly pale and sallow face. She'd always been such a California girl, all dark sun drenched skin and carefully applied makeup. "Cordy, what am I going to do without you?" he murmured, taking his accustomed place by her bed.
“Hey broody.”
Angel whipped his head around. “Spike. What are you doing here?”
“Snoopin about. Hey, did you know this place used to be owned by Satan or something?”
“Yeah.”
“And you’re ok with that? The whole selling your soul to Satan thing? I mean, they make operas about this stuff.”
“Your concern is touching, but I didn’t sell my soul.”
“Really? Why are you here?”
“To help people.”
“Really?” Spike said taking a seat on the opposite side of Cordy. “Because I’ve been talking to the Green guy and it seems you were intent on not taking the gig. What changed?”
“My mind.”
“Please, we both know you haven’t got one of those.”
“It’s an excellent opportunity-“
“To let the people who’ve been after you for four years corrupt you.”
“We’re only corrupted if we let ourselves be,” Angel recited for the fortieth time.
“Ha. Please, you are not that naïve. You’re taking a huge risk here and you know it.”
“So? So what if I am?”
“Hey,” Spike said putting his hands up. “Just looking out for my best buddy.”
“You hate me.”
“Yeah,” Spike said looking at Angel fondly. “I really do.”
“So why the concern?”
“I guess it’s not concern so much as curiosity. I’m just dying to know – what was your price?”
Angel appraised him for a minute. Did Spike know more than he was letting on? Did he remember something? “My price was the resources to really make a difference.”
“Fine, don’t tell me. But I will figure it out,” Spike said and turned his attention to Cordelia. “How is she?”
“She’s in a coma.”
“I can see that. Have you tried a mind walk?”
“A what?”
“I don’t know what it’s actually called. Willow did this thing when Buffy had her breakdown.”
“Did it work?”
“No, Buffy’s still in a coma today.”
“Right. I guess it’s worth a try. I’ll look into it.”
“Yes, by gum, we have to try,” Spike said is his best super hero voice.
“Go bug Wesley.”
“Wesley’s a wanker.”
“Still, he has questions for you.”
“Correction, one question,” Spike said sitting up a bit straighter to do his Wesley impression, “And you say you sought out a soul? Remarkable.”
“Ok, bug Lorne.”
“He’s no fun. All he ever does is shake his head and say, ‘Oh honey, you’ve got it bad.’”
“Whatever, this is private, shoo.”
“Fine.”
“Hey Kermie,” Spike said as he entered the recording studio.
“Hi, how’re you?” Lorne asked cheerfully. Everyone said Spike was a menace, dangerous, evil. But he seemed pretty nice to Lorne.
“Good.”
“How’s the new album?”
“Not so good, seems even a deal with the devil can’t give some people talent,” Lorne replied indicating the decidedly boy looking band on the other side of the glass partition.
“Great. So, I need some more dirt,” Spike said taking a seat next to Lorne.
Lorne rolled his eyes. “Is that all I am to you? An informant?”
“No. Don’t say such things pet. You know I adore you. Now, what’s the scoop on the Broodster and Cordy?” he said leaning his forearm on the console.
“They were… together.”
“Really? So lover boy hasn’t been pining over Buffy all this time? Interesting.”
“They never really worked things out though, what with Cordy being impregnated with a god.”
“Yeah, that can wreck the best of relationships. So if she woke up, you think those two wacky kids could finally make a go of it?”
“Leaving Buffy free for you?”
“What? I have no stake in this. I think only of Angel’s happiness.”
“Spike...”
“So, how we gonna get sleeping beauty up?” Spike said standing up and rubbing his hands together.
“Did you ever think that maybe the thing keeping you apart isn’t Angel? Maybe you two just aren’t meant to be.”
Spike looked at him for a minute before replying, “Bloke’s gotta try.”
“No, he doesn’t. You can move on with your life. Look – I’m not trying to be cruel. It’s just that- From what Wesley’s told me – You lived for your mother, then you lived for Drusilla, then you lived for Buffy. Maybe it’s time to live for yourself.”
“Maybe it’s time you minded your own business,” Spike replied and walked out.
“Would if I could snookims,” Lone muttered after him.
“Good news mon amie,” Spike said as he walked into Angel’s office.
“Why are you speaking French?”
“You, dear heart, I remember how much you hated the place.”
“Thanks.”
“I found the spell Red did on Buffy,” Spike said holding out a bunch of papers.
Angel took them from him warily. “I’m not sure this is a good idea,” Angel said looking through the papers. Spells never end well.”
“You liked the one where you got your soul back, right?”
“Well-“
“And this is from the same source.”
Angel eyed Spike suspiciously. He knew Spike wasn’t doing this for him, or even for Cordy. But it was possible he was trying to do good in an effort to atone. “Ok, I’ll get Willow on the next plane.”
“No good. It has to be someone who knows the subject extremely well. They’ll be treading in the inner sanctum of her mind. A wrong step could make things worse.”
“So it’ll have to be me.”
“You tell me. Is there someone who knows her better?”
Angel sat back in his chair. He knew he was Cordelia’s best friend, but how well did he know her anymore? Things had changed so much. He had a hard time keeping track of when she’d been her and when she’d been under Jasmine’s control. There was a time when knowing her better, seeing inside her mind, seeing how she really felt about him was his fondest wish. But now… Things were different. They were different. And like it or not, seeing Buffy again had changed things. Remembering how close they’d been, what they’d meant to each other. As close as he’d been with Cordy, it’d never approximated his feelings for Buffy. He wasn’t even sure he was in love with Cordelia anymore, but he was sure he needed her back, and he was running out of options.
“Alright. Let’s do it.”
Angel sat nervously in his chair and watched Spike move around the room lighting candles.
“So, how exactly does this work?”
“Your consciousness will enter the dream state of her consciousness.”
‘Then what?”
“Walk around till you find whatever it is that’s keeping her there.”
“That’s the plan?”
“Yep.”
“How will I figure out what’s keeping her.”
“No idea.”
“Fantastic.”
“Remember to concentrate on her experience; otherwise your dream state will get mixed in with hers.”
“This is such a bad idea.”
“Yeah, but what are you gonna do?”
“Not go through with it?”
“Pish. Now meditate.”
Angel closed his eyes and concentrated on the most vivid memory that Cordelia and he shared: Doyle’s death. He remembered every detail and he was sure she would too.
Warehouse.
The scourge.
A hundred Brachen.
The jump.
Suddenly Angel felt himself plummeting downward. He reached out and grabbed Spike’s hand as he fell.
As soon as he felt Angel grab his hand Spike knew what was coming. He was going to be pulled into the space of the spell. ‘So Angel was right,’ he thought. ‘Stupid plan.’
Spike found himself in a warehouse watching that Irish git kiss Cordy and jump to his glowy death.
“So that’s how he died.”
Suddenly he was in an office with Angel and Cordelia. They were watching the Irish git talk about helping the hopeless. “Wow, I’m so inspired. They should use that as an army recruitment video.”
“Shut up Spike,” Angel replied.
“Hey you can hear me!”
“Yeah. You can hear me, I can hear you, Cordelia, however-”
“Is gone,” Spike replied looking at the space she had occupied.
“What? She was just here,” Angel said whirling around. “What do I do?”
“I don’t know – follow her.”
“I don’t know where she went.”
“Try to think like her.”
Angel’s face lit up and he disappeared.
“Wonderful,” Spike said as he was pulled along with him.
As soon as he thought it Angel found himself transported to the Sunnydale mall. But Cordelia wasn’t there. And worse still – he was having an increasingly difficult time focusing on Cordelia. The Sunnydale mall brought back so many memories – few of them good. He couldn’t help but look up at the circular display counter and think – that’s where Buffy stood when she shot at me with a shoulder mounted rocket launcher.
And suddenly he was in his old bedroom in Sunnydale.
Buffy was lying in his bed, sleeping peacefully.
Spike knew in an instant where they were, but more importantly when. It was the first night, the last night Angel and Buffy were together. He wanted to throw up.
“What the hell are we doing here?” he demanded.
“I don’t know. I’m not exactly in control here.”
“You know, I think you are. I think you know exactly what you’re doing – you brought us here to torment me.”
“Stop being-“ Angel began. “Torment huh?” This was too good to pass up. He’d put up with Spike’s eunuch jabs for days, it was time for a little payback. “Gosh, she looks so peaceful, doesn’t she?”
Spike couldn’t resist looking. She did look peaceful.
“Sated even,” Angel added.
“Wouldn’t go that far.”
“Hey, maybe we could back up a bit; I could give you a few pointers.”
“Or hey, we could do this,” Spike said and concentrated as hard as he could on the night in the abandoned house.
Once more they were transported instantaneously. Angel cringed as he watched Buffy pull Spikes zipper down. “Enough,” he said calmly and pulled them back to his apartment.
“Did you catch the look on her face? Not exactly calm – but still…” Spike said.
Angel walked up to Spike and replied, “You were just a toy. A mistake. She’ll never love anyone the way she loved me.”
Spike looked back calmly, trying to keep the hurt from his eyes. “True,” he replied. “She’ll never trust like that again. Congratulations. You broke her.”
Angel reeled at the cold hard slam of guilt, but he recovered quickly and shot back, “Oh, what, like you never scarred her? You never betrayed her?”
Spike looked Angel in the eye. “Not like you did. She trusted you. Me – never.”
Before he could speak some force swept Angel away and he found himself pressed up against a wall with familiar lips pulling at his.
“Didja miss me? Buffy asked pulling her head back, but keeping her body pressed firmly against his.
“Yes, oh yes,” Angel managed to squeak.
Buffy stepped back to reveal her red teddy clad body.
“Get into bed,” she commanded.
“Bossy.”
“You know you like it,” Buffy replied, pushing him into the bed. She climbed in after him and straddled his hips.
“Um, Buffy maybe we shouldn’t.”
“Shh, Don’t worry. Willow did a spell,” she replied and began unbuttoning his shirt.
Spike was left alone wandering the halls of an unfamiliar hotel. “Cordelia, oh Cordelia. Come out come out wherever you are,” Spike called. “Angel misses you. Don’t you miss him? Don’t you want to kiss him and hold him and make him forget all about that Buffy chit?” Spike continued.
He looked down over a railing and caught a glimpse of Cordelia gesturing up at the ceiling.
“Wait there,” he called. “I’ll be there in – what the hell” The hotel corridor was gone, replaced by a posh bed room. Spike found himself lying in bed wearing nothing but silk pajama bottoms.
Before he had time to angrily demand an explanation Buffy walked out of the bathroom wearing the pajama top.
“Ok,” she said. “I have news.”
“Well,” Spike replied gazing at her. “Get in and tell me.”
She crawled under the covers and pressed her back up against him. He wrapped his arms around her and whispered, “So, what’s the news?”
Buffy looked back at him and grinned shyly. “I’m pregnant.”
Spike grinned so wide it looked like his face might split.
“Oh Angel,” Buffy moaned as she rode him. “I love you.”
“Spike,” Buffy cried out as he sunk into her. “I love you.”
“Lucky girl,” Lilah said as she watched both vampires. She turned to check on Cordelia who was lost in the hotel lobby trying to remember what had come out of the fissure. “Not so lucky girl.”
Angel lay contentedly in bed with Buffy wrapped in his arms and fought the feeling that there was something he was forgetting to do.
“Cordelia,” he exclaimed and jumped out of bed.
“Hey, where are you going?” Buffy called after him, but Angel was already out in the hallway.
“Spike,” he yelled.
“Hold your horses,” Spike replied as he exited one of the rooms.
“Spike. Something’s trying to keep us away room Cordelia.”
“I know,” Spike replied. “Isn’t it fun?”
Spike walked back into his room, leaving Angel alone in the corridor wondering what to do next.
Cordelia was tired of floating. It seemed she spent most of her life either inexplicably hovering while receiving a vision, or trapped in a heavenly dimension, or in a coma, her consciousness ebbing in and out while her body lay lifeless. She felt like she was subsumed in the surf, at times gently rocked by the waves, at times rolled head over heels.
She had no control over where her mind wandered. Some days she’d repeat nightmares like watching Xander kiss Willow over and over. Other days the most banal memories from high school and working for Angel would cycle through her mind.
Occasionally the confusions would clear and the rocking would stop and she’d try to climb out and find solid ground. She started to put the pieces of her memories and personality back into place. But every time she made any progress she’d come up against some wall and slip back into the surf.
Cordelia was reliving Doyle’s death when she became aware of Angel slipping into her consciousness. She wanted so badly to call out to him, but she didn’t know how and soon after his arrival the tide pulled her into one of her least favorite memories.
It was the warehouse she’d stayed in after her return. Being there was always disconcerting because she could never quite get a grip on the sequence of events.
The rain of fire started it. She was sure of that. But why go to the warehouse? Why not the hotel? And she was pretty sure she wasn’t pregnant before the rain of fire. So what happened in that warehouse? Had she been raped? It felt like she had been. Her body had been taken against her will and forced to carry Jasmine. She’d been used and cast aside, as if her womb was the only part of her that mattered.
Perhaps that’s why she couldn’t find her way back to her body – it didn’t feel like her body anymore.
But she wanted it.
She wanted to go back, or at least forward.
Even death would be better than this limbo. Her biggest fear was that she was already dead and that this was it. She’d have to endure this for eternity. Was this someone’s whacked out idea of heaven? Was she being punished for bringing a god into the world? Or was this some quirk of dissipating brain energy? She had no idea and she was almost past the point of caring. Everyday she tried less. Everyday hope that she’d one day make it out faded a bit more.
But with Angel there... maybe she could get out, if she could just find him.
No sooner had she thought about Angel than she found herself in an alley.
“This is new,” she whispered and turned around slowly.
“My God you’re dense.”
“What?” Angel said whirling around to find the source of the voice. “Lilah...”
“You honestly haven’t figured it out yet,” she said shaking her head.
“Figured out what?”
“How to wake the princess.”
“Groo?” Angel asked tentatively. “Get Groo to…”
“No Nimrod. I was speaking metaphorically.”
Angel reached out to grip her throat but she crossed her arms in front of her, bobbed her head, disappeared, and re-appeared behind him.
“Even if we weren’t on a non corporeal plane, I’m dead, remember?” Lilah said. “Hey, did you like the little I dream of Jennie bit? I thought it was clever. Of course, I’ve been watching a lot of Nick at Night.”
“What did you do to her?” Angel asked angrily.
“Hey now. I’m trying to help you. I could get in a lot of trouble for this.”
“Why don’t I believe you?”
“You’ve got trust issues?”
“Tell me what you did to keep her here.”
“It’s not what I did. It’s what you did,” Lila responded and bobbed her head again.
Angel was about to reply when he realized he was in an alley looking straight at Cordelia.
“Cordelia,” Angel cried, relieved.
“Angel?” Cordelia asked.
“Yeah. It’s me,” he replied striding towards her. “I’m going to get you out of here, ok?”
“Where’s here?”
Angel looked around and immediately recognized the alley where Connor was born.
“It’s an alley, just an alley.”
“I can’t remember where it fits,” Cordelia said looking around.
“It’s where Holtz killed Darla,” Angel said, hopping this was close to the version she was supposed to remember.
“No, it’s not.”
“Listen, it doesn’t matter. We need to go now.”
“Can’t,” Cordelia replied.
In an instant they were at the hospital. Angel reeled a little at the new surroundings. Cordelia took it in stride.
“I was here…” Cordelia said looking around.
“Yes,” Angel agreed, knowing this was the waiting room where they met after Connor’s first check up. “When you had all the visions at once.”
“No,” Cordelia said sinking wearily into a chair.
Angel’s face fell as he realized what he’d done. “I trapped you here,” he whispered.
Cordelia just looked around as if trying to remember what had happened.
“I’m so sorry,” Angel said.
“For what?” she replied absently.
“I know what’s missing, what you need to get out.”
Cordelia’s eyes brightened slightly. Angel concentrated on his own memories, on the sequence of events he knew to be true.
“Here,” he said and all around them his memory version of Fred, Gunn, Lorne, Cordelia, himself and Connor popped up and began celebrating their victory and cooing over Connor.
“Connor,” Cordelia whispered. “He was…” For a moment she was lost, unable to speak for the tumult of memories flooding back in.
It was worse than the last few months. The confusion was so intense; it felt like a vision headache. But after a time her mind quieted and things fell into place. And Cordelia remembered with perfect clarity who she was.
Cordelia Chase said what she meant.
And knew how to wear couture.
And understood the importance of hiring good help.
She was smart.
She was a bitch.
She loved her friends.
And she was fierce.
Suddenly the last few months seemed so pathetic. Cordelia didn’t lie in a hospital bed, except that time with the rebar, and the psychic assault, but other than that-
Cordelia Chase stood up, fought back, and she kicked ass.
When she opened her eyes she was lying in a familiar room as Angel gazed at her anxiously.
“Angel?” she said hoarsely.
“Yeah. It’s me. How are you feeling?”
Cordelia smiled and replied, “I’m feeling.”
“Good, it’s so good to have you back.”
“Hey, it worked,” Spike interjected. “Knew it would.”
“Spike, could you give us a minute?”
“Sure thing boss,” Spike said. “I’m sure you two love birds would like a little privacy,” he continued, dripping innuendo.
Angel watched him go and returned his attention to Cordelia.
Her face had clouded over; she looked him straight in the eye and said, “You killed him.”
Angel paused and replied, “I saved him.”
“No,” Cordelia said sitting up. “You saved his body. You saved some kid who looks like him You killed Connor.”
“You don’t understand. He was going to kill people.”
“So you help him. You don’t throw him away. You don’t just give up on people,” Cordelia shouted.
“Cordy please.”
“Don’t Cordy please me. Get out.”
“I just want to-“
“Get out.”
Angel lowered his head and acquiesced.