there's a journey in my eyes...
"So why you?" She asks, softly, eyes flitting over my face. "Why now?"
I'm not sure how to answer at first. There's something settling behind my eyelids, a calm that I haven't felt before. Or, wait... Scratch that. A calm I know from months of taking pills that make the world seem hazy, following a vision. I shouldn't really be calm, should I?
I should panic. I mean... Am I dead? 'Cause that would explain this. It would explain her, wouldn't it?
"I don't know." I tell her truthfully, my words tentative, deliberate.
"I figured it'd be someone different. My Mom, I guess."
I don't know what to say to that either. Do I say I'm sorry? That's gonna sound trite, especially considering it's me. I liked her Mom fine (and damn, if that wasn't a woman who knew how to moisturise) but saying I'm sorry would sound weird. "Where are we?"
She looks at me and she smiles. She looks like all the pieces of her life just sorta fell into place, like maybe she just realised she can go anywhere. Do anything. "You don't know?"
"Would I have asked if I did?" Okay, so panicking. I don't like this hazy feeling. It's fine post-vision, it's fine for when my brain feels like it's gonna fall out the back of my head of for when that pounding behind my eyeballs gets so bad I feel like they're just gonna pop right outta there. But now? It scares me.
"It took me a while to work it out," She says, tapping her fingers against her leg, "It took me a while to realise that it all fit somehow. Like--"
"Like what? What fits?" My heart - that noise I hear is my heart, right? - starts pounding in my chest.
"Life. Everything. Death." She continues, despite the look on my face. (And yeah, in case you were wondering? That noise was my heart.) "It all makes sense once you're gone. Why you were there. Why you had a purpose... My purpose was to die so that others could live."
I blink, slowly. This morning? I woke up, Dennis made me coffee and I headed to work. I did everything I normally do on a Thursday, aside from the collection at the Pharmacy. That was it. There was no death. There was no great white light or bright shiny purpose. There was Angel - which okay, might have given me a heart attack because of the lack of him lately - and at some point? I think there was even a civil word from Faith to Wesley, but death?!
"Uhm, okay..." I say, cautiously, "But I'm not, right? I mean, I didn't get the whole last moments deal, I didn't get--"
"Maybe you weren't supposed to."
I hate that she makes sense right now. Especially now! She shouldn't make sense, not over this. "Look, whatever it is you're saying--"
"Did you have a vision?" Her words are like a suckerpunch to my chest. I don't know how she knows about them, who told her - whether it was Angel or Willow or someone else - but she knows.
"I... What?"
"Did you have a vision? About me?"
Right before Angel went on his retreat? I could see that question in his eyes. I could see it, lingering beneath the surface. I wondered too. She'd done so much, why didn't I have a vision? Why didn't the Powers send me a vision?
"I guess it's not fair to ask you that." She says, softly. "I'm sorry."
"Me too." Swallowing the lump in my throat, I force myself to look away. Would it have made a difference anyway? Angel was off saving me, rescuing me from Pylea... Could he have stopped it? "Am I dead?" I didn't mean to ask that question, not like that. I didn't mean to blurt it out but I just...
"Not yet." She shakes her head. "This is just... Well, your subconcious I guess."
"So what it's saying is say your goodbyes?" I frown, because deep down? I knew this moment was coming. I knew that at some point, the visions would get too much and I'd...
"Life is what we make it, Cordelia." Says Buffy as she starts to fade, "You just gotta make the last moments count."
When I woke up? It wasn't hazy. My heart wasn't pounding and I wasn't sweating. I looked around the lobby, blinking, watching as Angel came down the stairs. Not dead. Not dreaming either.
Spooked, I guess, but not like I should have been.
I'd fallen asleep at the counter - served me right for lying awake worrying about Angel, Faith and Wes in turn, I guess.
"So, you've finally decided to join the land of the living, huh?" I asked, running my fingers through my hair to get rid of any funny sleep-hair.
I'm not sure how to answer at first. There's something settling behind my eyelids, a calm that I haven't felt before. Or, wait... Scratch that. A calm I know from months of taking pills that make the world seem hazy, following a vision. I shouldn't really be calm, should I?
I should panic. I mean... Am I dead? 'Cause that would explain this. It would explain her, wouldn't it?
"I don't know." I tell her truthfully, my words tentative, deliberate.
"I figured it'd be someone different. My Mom, I guess."
I don't know what to say to that either. Do I say I'm sorry? That's gonna sound trite, especially considering it's me. I liked her Mom fine (and damn, if that wasn't a woman who knew how to moisturise) but saying I'm sorry would sound weird. "Where are we?"
She looks at me and she smiles. She looks like all the pieces of her life just sorta fell into place, like maybe she just realised she can go anywhere. Do anything. "You don't know?"
"Would I have asked if I did?" Okay, so panicking. I don't like this hazy feeling. It's fine post-vision, it's fine for when my brain feels like it's gonna fall out the back of my head of for when that pounding behind my eyeballs gets so bad I feel like they're just gonna pop right outta there. But now? It scares me.
"It took me a while to work it out," She says, tapping her fingers against her leg, "It took me a while to realise that it all fit somehow. Like--"
"Like what? What fits?" My heart - that noise I hear is my heart, right? - starts pounding in my chest.
"Life. Everything. Death." She continues, despite the look on my face. (And yeah, in case you were wondering? That noise was my heart.) "It all makes sense once you're gone. Why you were there. Why you had a purpose... My purpose was to die so that others could live."
I blink, slowly. This morning? I woke up, Dennis made me coffee and I headed to work. I did everything I normally do on a Thursday, aside from the collection at the Pharmacy. That was it. There was no death. There was no great white light or bright shiny purpose. There was Angel - which okay, might have given me a heart attack because of the lack of him lately - and at some point? I think there was even a civil word from Faith to Wesley, but death?!
"Uhm, okay..." I say, cautiously, "But I'm not, right? I mean, I didn't get the whole last moments deal, I didn't get--"
"Maybe you weren't supposed to."
I hate that she makes sense right now. Especially now! She shouldn't make sense, not over this. "Look, whatever it is you're saying--"
"Did you have a vision?" Her words are like a suckerpunch to my chest. I don't know how she knows about them, who told her - whether it was Angel or Willow or someone else - but she knows.
"I... What?"
"Did you have a vision? About me?"
Right before Angel went on his retreat? I could see that question in his eyes. I could see it, lingering beneath the surface. I wondered too. She'd done so much, why didn't I have a vision? Why didn't the Powers send me a vision?
"I guess it's not fair to ask you that." She says, softly. "I'm sorry."
"Me too." Swallowing the lump in my throat, I force myself to look away. Would it have made a difference anyway? Angel was off saving me, rescuing me from Pylea... Could he have stopped it? "Am I dead?" I didn't mean to ask that question, not like that. I didn't mean to blurt it out but I just...
"Not yet." She shakes her head. "This is just... Well, your subconcious I guess."
"So what it's saying is say your goodbyes?" I frown, because deep down? I knew this moment was coming. I knew that at some point, the visions would get too much and I'd...
"Life is what we make it, Cordelia." Says Buffy as she starts to fade, "You just gotta make the last moments count."
When I woke up? It wasn't hazy. My heart wasn't pounding and I wasn't sweating. I looked around the lobby, blinking, watching as Angel came down the stairs. Not dead. Not dreaming either.
Spooked, I guess, but not like I should have been.
I'd fallen asleep at the counter - served me right for lying awake worrying about Angel, Faith and Wes in turn, I guess.
"So, you've finally decided to join the land of the living, huh?" I asked, running my fingers through my hair to get rid of any funny sleep-hair.