Title: Lullaby
Author: Wildecate
Email: Wildecate@hotmail.com
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Don’t own nothing, not the characters and not the song, you have Joss and Sarah McLachlan to thank for those.
Summary: This is a Cordelia/Doyle piece. If I had to place it, imagine it taking place just before "Hero" and then just afterwards.

It had been a long night and Cordelia was nearly dead on her feet. She had spent half of the night pouring over thick books attempting to track down a particular sect of demons who ripped the heads off their victims and then covered themselves with the brains. Cordelia tried very hard not to think about this although she did have a vivid imagination. Doyle and Angel had gone out just before 2am to hunt them and had returned at 6am to find Cordelia holding three of the aforementioned demons off in Angel’s office with a crossbow in one hand and Angel's sword in the other. This life was definitely getting to her and she occasionally wondered that perhaps she might have a quieter life waiting tables in a diner somewhere. Doing anything anywhere but here.

She gulped down the last of her coffee and swished the sour liquid around her mouth trying to wake herself up long enough to walk home. She and Doyle had found themselves living vampire hours which meant sleeping during the day. Unfortunately Cordelia’s body clock had not quite got the hang of this and she was definitely feeling a bit worse for wear, not to mention the constant feeling paranoia she was developing.

Doyle sat across the room cleaning demon guts off his shoes and occasionally glancing up at the object of his affections. Right now, the Ice Queen was dead on her feet and probably not safe to drive home. These demons seemed to have gotten to her unlike most of monsters they fought and she was still a little jumpy. He decided to make an executive decision and went in to see Angel.

His boss looked up when the half demon entered.

"I’m going to take Cordy home. She’s knackered and not more than a little upset so I might hang around hers for a bit."

Angel tried, unsuccessfully, to hide a smile thinking that this was yet another one of Doyle’s attempts to persuade Cordelia that he was the man for her. Doyle frowned at him.

"Hey man, don’t you go getting any ideas. The girl’s pretty shaken up."

"Cordelia has the constitution of an ox - she’ll be fine."

"You need to take a good look at that girl Angel. We see different things you and me when we look at her. You still see her as a spoilt little princess and that isn't what she is anymore. You need pay her a bit more attention and be thankful for everything she does."

Doyle suddenly realised that he was more than a little bit mad and decided to get moving in case he said something he regretted.

"We’ll see you later."

Angel watched Doyle stride out of the office and bend over Cordelia. She looked up at him and he noted the look of thankfulness that flashed over her face. Perhaps he was taking her for granted just a little bit. Despite the fact that she was a terrbile typist, her filing left a lot to be deserved and it was probably best not to mention her coffee there was something about her that you missed whenever she wasn't there. Doyle was right. She didn't have to do this, she wasn't the cursed one here, he was. She didn't need redemption - she needed a break.

Doyle physically put Cordelia in the car and she was asleep before he made it round the other side of the car. He looked down at her before pulled away carefully so as not to wake her and it was with regret that he shook her shoulder to rouse her when they reached her apartment.

Phantom Dennis opened the door for them and then closed it behind them. Doyle sat Cordy on the bed and slipped off her shoes and laid her down carefully. Dennis lifted the covers over her and Doyle pulled the curtains closed.

"I’m going to stay for while Dennis. Just to keep an eye on her."

Doyle was well aware that if Dennis thought for a moment he was doing anything untoward with Cordelia his life wouldn’t be worth living but Dennis sensed his concern and Doyle heard the kettle click on to make a drink.

"Thanks Dennis."

It was about two hours later when Doyle was channel hopping his way through 42 channels of cable when he felt a rush of air at his back and he felt rather than heard Cordelia’s scream. He was in the room in seconds bending over the sleeping girl. She had tears running down her face and was thrashing around deep in the hold of a nightmare.

Doyle took hold of her hands and smoothed the hot forehand, pulling the tangled hair out of her face making soothing noises. Cordy’s breathing was rapid and he could feel her pulse beating hard in her wrist. He began to hum quietly under his breath and found words coming to him, a song which he had probably heard on the radio but which was soothing and gentle.


Spend all your time waiting for that second chance
For the break that will make it OK
There’s always some reason to feel not good enough
And it’s hard at the end of the day
I need some distraction
Beautiful release
Memory seeps through my veins
You may be empty or weightless and maybe
I’ll find some peace tonight

In the arms of the angels
Fly away from here
From this star cool hotel room
And the endlessness that you feel
You are pulled from the wreckage
Of your silent reverie
Here in the arms of the angels
May you find some comfort here


Cordelia had settled back into sleep without ever wakening and Doyle covered her up again. He wondered how long these nightmares had been going on and wished that Dennis could tell him.

"Don't suppose you can tell me eh? How long she's been like this?" he asked rhetorically. There was definitely something weird about talking to mid air.

The lights flicked on and off a couple of times.

"That ain't helpful mate. Are we talking weeks here?"

The light flicked.

"What is this? One for yes and two for no?"

The light flicked again.

"So a week then?"

Four times the light flashed.

"A month? She's been like this a month?"

Doyle sighed and looked down at the sleeping girl and wished he knew how to make her feel better. She moaned in her sleep and turned over and Doyle sat down on the bed again and started singing softly again, trying to quiet her.


So tired of the straight line and everywhere you turn
There’s vultures and thieves at your back
Storm keeps on twisting keep on building the lies
That you make up for all that you lack
Don’t make no difference
Escape one last time it’s easier to believe
In this sweet madness
This glorious sadness that brings me to my knees

In the arms of the angels
Fly away from here
From this star cool hotel room
And the endlessness that you feel
You are pulled from the wreckage
Of your silent reverie
In the arms of the angels
May you find some comfort here


They were riding back in the car. Cordelia was mute and Angel was angry. She could feel it coming off him in waves. She stared out at the city streets and tried to feel something, anything. But she just felt empty, completely empty. Lost. The way she had felt when she had seen Xander and Willow. Betrayed and lost.

Angel and Cordelia did not say anything to each other and it was in silence that Cordelia got out the car at her apartment and opened the door. She turned and looked at Angel briefly and then closed the door behind her.

She did not want him with her that night and she knew he did not want her. She could hear the kettle bubbling away and momentarily was thankful for Dennis. The radio switched on and began to play softly. Cordelia was about to turn it off but realised she recognised the song although she couldn't place where she had heard it before.

Cordy sank on to the floor, wrapping her arms around her and cried soundlessly. The tears streamed down her face and silent sobs wracked her body.


In the arms of the angels
Fly away from here
From this star cool hotel room
And the endlessness that you feel
You are pulled from the wreckage
Of your silent reverie
In the arms of the angels
May you find some comfort here