Who I Am, What I'll Become Fic 21: Darkest Hour (1-3/3)
Title: Darkest Hour (1/?) : Story 21 in the "Who I Am, What I'll Become" series
Author: X_tremeroswellian
Email: faithboscorelli1@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: All Angel and Buffy the Vampire Slayer characters belong to Joss Whedon, David Greenwalt, and all the other nice people that actually get paid to work to work on the show, none of whom I have any affiliation with whatsoever. Please don't sue me; I'm a poor broke college student. Songs are "Yellow Light" by Remy Zero, and "Chosen Family" by Leona Naess.
Rating: R for violence, language and sexual content.
Spoilers: Up through "Are You Now or Have You Ever Been" and the first 20 stories in this series.
Timelines: Takes place immediately after "Darkness Falls."
Summary: Cordelia grows worried about Angel's absence; she later realizes her own life is still in jeopardy.
Distribution: Anyone with previous permission. Permenant home is at my site, Only Time.
Category: Story
Subcategories: horror/angst/friendship
Author's Note: This fic gets very dark (and I'm not talking about night-time, folks) and graphic. Proceed with extreme caution.
Feedback: Rates right up there with chocolate, hint, hint. :)
Dedication: To rousedowser, Anne, Windsor and Julia.
Darkest Hour (Part One)
"And hey, got to move all across this thing
As the moon has made everything mean
Now it tears apart my brain
My bones is beginning to shake
Reach out your hollow flame
Ohh, you're hangin' so weird and strange
Ohh, your darkest days
They're just beginning now....ohhh..."
Something was wrong.
Cordelia paced back and forth in her living room, her lavender dress swishing as she moved. "Where is he, Dennis? He should be back by now."
Not unexpectedly, Dennis remained silent.
However, a mug of fresh hot chocolate floated over and hovered in front of her. "Thanks, but I don't think cocoa's going to help," she told him. The mug floated over and landed on her coffee table.
Cordelia ran a hand through her hair, trying to keep herself calm.
But with each passing moment, her anxiety grew. She wasn't sure how she knew it...chalk it up to woman's intuition or whatever...but something was wrong. She felt it with every bone in her body.
"Oh, God, Dennis! What if he got staked?" Her eyes widened with horror as a series of images of how life without Angel would be like flashed through her mind.
She felt Dennis smooth the hair off her forehead. "I know, I know. I'm freaking out over nothing. He's probably fine. I'm sure he is. He's Angel. He probably just ran into some demons attacking someone and stopped to help. He'll be back any minute, right? Yep, any minute." She stared at the door, hoping that it would swing open. When it didn't, she took a deep breath. "Okay, no more babbling." She crossed the room and grabbed the phone off its cradle. Then she hit speed dial button #2.
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Wesley lay in bed, Kate's head resting on his bare chest. He stroked her back gently and played with the ends of her golden hair. She sighed contently and snuggled closer to him. He kissed her forehead. "Did you always want to be a police officer?"
"Actually, believe it or not, when I was younger, I wanted to be a country music singer."
"What happened?"
She stared at the wall. "My father wanted a son. To follow in his footsteps and become an officer. But I was the only child he and my mom ever had."
"So, trying to win your father's love and approval, you followed in his footsteps instead."
"That's the gist of it." Kate raised her head up and gazed at him. "What about you?"
"I wanted to be a writer. But my father was a watcher and he had a certain...influence on the council. I was inducted when I was twelve."
"It's amazing how much parents can affect their children," she murmured.
He looked into her eyes. "What about your mother?"
"She died when I was six. I don't remember her very well. But she used to wear this perfume...I don't know what it was, but it smelled like Spring. You know, when all the flowers begin to bloom again after a long, cold winter. And I remember she used to bake me homeade chocolate chip cookies...to this day, that's my favorite kind of cookie. My father never even attempted to bake. When I was growing up, we always had take-out or something on the grill. I honestly don't even remember the last time I had homeade chocolate chip cookies..." Kate's voice trailed off. "I'm sorry. I'm probably boring you to tears."
Wesley shook his head. "Not at all. I'm honored that you talk to me about your life." He kissed her forehead again.
She smiled at him.
Just then his telephone rang. He frowned as he glanced at the digital clock by his bed. It was 11 p.m. "I should get it...Cordelia may have had a vision, or..." His voice trailed off and he looked at her apologetically.
"Don't feel bad on my account," Kate assured him, moving over so he could grab the phone.
Wesley pressed it to his ear. "Hello?"
"Wesley, something's wrong!"
"What is it?" he asked, immediately worried from the sound of his friend's voice.
"The killer was outside my window! Angel went after him!"
"Okay, just stay calm. I'm sure that Angel's fine--"
"Wesley, that was almost three hours ago!"
He looked at Kate, who was watching him with concern. "All right. I'm going to get dressed and come over there. Then we'll figure out what to do. Just sit tight, okay?"
"Okay."
Wesley hung up the phone.
"What happened?"
"The killer was outside Cordelia's window. Angel went after him. Three hours ago," he said grimly.
Her eyes widened slightly. "I'll go with you."
"I appreciate that," he said sincerely as their eyes met. Then they both rushed to locate their clothes.
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Angelus's eyes focused on the figure at the back of the darkened room. "Wow, I'm hungry," he remarked as he walked towards Lindsey McDonald.
Lindsey looked a bit worried, but held his ground.
"Angelus," Darla said sweetly.
He glanced back at her.
"Let's show him a little mercy," she suggested.
He raised an eyebrow. "When have you ever shown *anyone* mercy?"
"Well, he did bring me back, after all. And he got rid of that nasty soul of yours. We should show him our appreciation. Besides, he may turn out to be useful later."
Angelus sighed heavily, glanced at Lindsey again, then shrugged. "He probably would have tasted like a rat anyway."
She walked over and took him by the arm. "Let's go out. It's been so long since I've had a night on the town."
He grinned. "And I'm in the mood to feed."
Darla smiled seductively. "You definitely should. You'll need all your strengh for later." She turned and waved at the lawyer at the back of the warehouse. "Ta-ta, Lindsey!"
Without another word, the two vampires left the warehouse and stalked out into the dark night.
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Cordelia sat on the edge of her sofa, unable to pay attention to The X-Files marathon that was running on FX. She had called Wesley twenty minutes ago. Where the hell is he? she wondered.
If only she knew what was going on, if Angel was okay.
She stood up. "Why can't the PTB send me a vision right about now? I mean, if Angel's in some kind of trouble, they would send me a vision so I could help him, right? I mean, it's not like I can just pick up the phone and dial..." Her voice trailed off as something else suddenly occurred to her. "That's it! Dennis, I'll be back soon! Let Wesley in when he comes over!"
Cordelia grabbed her purse and ran out of her apartment.
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She looked around the semi-crowded demon bar and frowned. She spotted Lorne in the back at a table alone. She took a deep breath and hurried over to him.
"Hey, there, beautiful. What are you doing here tonight? And all dressed up, no less. Is that a Donna Karen?"
She looked down, having completely forgotten to change clothes. "Yeah. Listen, I need you to do your Sylvia Browne thing."
Lorne raised an eyebrow. "You know the rules, sweetcheeks." He nodded towards the stage where a five-eyed blue demon was belting out, "Ain't No Mountain High Enough."
Cordelia cringed. "Couldn't you just--" she waved her arms in the air. "--forget the rules this one timie? Angel's in trouble."
He frowned. "Sorry to hear that, but the problem is I *can't* read your future unless you sing."
"Okay, okay. Fine." She sighed, and waited impatiently until the demon on stage was finished. Then she rushed up there, looked over the song selections, and quickly chose one.
Cordelia drew in a nervous breath, pulled the microphone off its stand and began to sing along with the music.
"He's no Cassanova
He's no pushover
He's no king
And I hope he's no queen
He is kind
And I know you'll agree
He is my chosen family
When his hands are in mine
I know that we'll be fine
And no ocean can keep me away
My love...
He's no star
But he drives a fast car
He lost his folks a long time ago
And if you look
You can still catch the blow
He is my chosen family
When his hands are in mine
I know that we'll be fine
And no ocean can keep me away
My love...
He's no Cassanova
He's no pushover
He is no king
And I know he's no queen
He is kind
And I know you'll agree
He is my chosen family...
When his hands are in mine
I know that we'll be fine
And no ocean can keep me away
My love...
My love...
My love...
My love...
My love."
Cordelia placed the microphone back onto its stand and fled the stage, making a beeline for Lorne's table.
He had a worried expression on his face.
"What is it?" she asked, clenching her hands together.
"Sit down, cupcake." He pulled out a chair for her.
She sat down and stared at him. "Tell me."
"When's the last time you had a vision?" he questioned, studying her.
Cordelia blinked and tried to remember the last vision she'd had...it had been weeks.
"That's what I thought. The Powers are testing you."
"Testing me? Why?"
"I don't know for sure what's going on. But I can tell you that you're headed straight into trouble." He took a sip of the martini he was drinking.
"Look, I'm not worried about me right now. It's Angel that I'm worried about."
Lorne shook his head. "You're worried about the wrong person, then, sweetie. You're the one in danger." He leaned toward her and dropped his voice slightly. "You're about to face the darkest hours of your life. Are you ready for that?"
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Wesley and Kate both covered their ears as they walked up the stairs to Cordelia's apartment. Apparently one of her neighbors was having a loud dance party. Loud music blasted somewhere from down the hall. When he reached Cordelia's door, he banged his fists on the wood, hoping she'd be able to hear him over the racket. "Cordelia!" he shouted. "It's Wesley!"
The door opened by itself a moment later.
"Thank you, Dennis," he told Cordelia's ghostly roommate. He stepped into the apartment, then reached back and took Kate's hand. "Cordelia?" he called loudly.
Kate closed the door behind them.
Wesley walked through the apartment, searching for any signs of his friend. When he reached her bedroom door, he froze. "Dear Lord," he muttered, staring at the mess of shredded clothes and grafitti on the wall.
Kate came up behind him and sucked in a breath. "I should call headquarters and get a team out here to work on this."
He nodded. "If Angel caught up to the man who did this..."
"...there will be one less active serial killer in the U.S.?" she finished.
They exchanged a look.
"Maybe I shouldn't make that call."
"I have to agree." Wesley backed out of the room and walked out to the living room. "I don't understand why Cordelia isn't here. She knew I was on my way over."
"Do you think she went after Angel?" Kate asked, frowning.
He looked over at her. "I don't know," he answered quietly. "And that's what worries me."
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Cordelia climbed out of the taxi cab in front of her apartment building, a dull pain thudding in her temples. The darkest hours of her life were coming up.
Great. Cause I've already had my share of bright, happy hours, she thought wryly.
And what the hell were the PTB testing her for, anyway? It didn't make sense.
But at least Angel wasn't in danger, which made her feel somewhat relieved.
She reached the front door of her apartment building, then realized she'd forgotten to put her keys in her purse. Good thing I have a roommate, she thought as she reached up to buzz the intercom box.
Before she could push the button, someone grabbed her from behind. A large hand covered her mouth and kept her from screaming as she was dragged around into the alley.
"Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting for this, Cordelia?" a voice hissed in her ear. "A very long, long time."
* * *
Part Two
Cordelia twisted in the arms of her captor, trying to break free.
"Stop struggling. You'll only make it worse on yourself," he commanded in a low voice. He dragged her farther down the dark alley.
She bit his hand.
"You bitch!" he spat, releasing her briefly. He punched her in the face and sent her crashing into the brick wall.
Cordelia gasped at the pain in her head as she slid to the ground, unable to stand. She raised her hand to her head and cringed when it came back covered in blood.
She froze when she saw him remove a long butcher knife from his back pocket. She fumbled around on the ground, trying to locate something she could use to defend herself with. Her hand closed around an empty old beer bottle. She pushed herself to her feet unsteadily. "Stay away from me," she warned, keeping the bottle hidden behind her back.
He sneered at her from behind the black ski mask. "I'm afraid that's not how this works." He advanced on her quickly.
She kept herself as calm as she could, allowing him to get close enough to her. He grabbed her by one arm, and with her free arm she slammed the bottle into his head, shattering it. Glass rained down on the street.
Cordelia didn't wait to see his reaction. She jerked out of his grasp and bolted around him, her heart racing. She cried out as he kicked her feet out from under her. She hit the ground hard, with him on top of her. Unable to breathe from the force of the fall and his weight, she was completely defenseless.
He pinned her arms above her head with one hand. The other hand--the one still holding the knife--traveled down her body. She heard the tearing of fabric as he sliced her dress down the side.
Cordelia could taste bile at the back of her throat as her entire body went completely numb.
She was going to be a statistic. Would her parents find out? Would it really bother them? Or the Scooby gang? Would they cry at her funeral?
Wesley would. Angel, too. Maybe even Kate and Gunn. Her friends from Roswell would be upset, but probably wouldn't make it to the funeral services.
"I'm going to enjoy this," he told her. He lowered his head and licked the side of her face.
She shuddered and gagged and then turned her head away. I don't want to die like this, she thought desperately, her numbness turning once again into panic. She tried to bring up her legs to knee him in the groin, but to no avail.
"Now, now," he warned, holding the knife up in front of her face.
Cordelia glared at him defiantly. "Fuck you," she said darkly. Then she spat on him.
Enraged, he wiped the spit off his cheek and punched her in the face again. "I'd be glad to," he remarked, shoving her legs apart.
Cordelia screamed.
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Angelus watched with disinterest as Darla fed off of an old homeless man. He yawned and leaned against the side of the building. His gaze traveled and fixed upon the familiar apartment building across the street. A smile crept up on his lips.
He glanced back at his resurrected sire. "I'll be back later."
Darla tore her fangs out of the man's throat and let his lifeless body drop to the ground with a dull thud. "I'll come with you," she said eagerly.
Angelus rolled his eyes and wondered how he's spent so many years with this woman. She was so...predictable. So dull.
A terrified and familiar scream shattered the silence of the night. Before he even realized what he was doing, Angelus was off and running.
There, in the alley way of the apartment building, he spotted a man sitting on top of Cordelia. Fury rose within him. Without understanding the rage he felt, Angelus launched himself forward with a growl.
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Cordelia tried to roll away as he unfastened his jeans, but he hit her again and she was in too much pain to move.
Tears ran down her face as the world began to spin. Angel, where are you? she wondered.
A second later, she heard a growl and then the killer was no longer on top of her. She sucked in a lungful of air, her ribs aching in tandom with the pounding in her skull.
"What the--"
"No one touches her!" a familiar voice snarled.
Cordelia squinted and she could dimly make out a large figure as he threw the killer up against the wall. "Angel?" she murmured.
Feral yellow eyes turned to her for a moment.
The killer raised his knife up and threw himself at Angel.
"Angel, look out!" she cried.
He turned and effortlessly knocked the knife out of the man's hands. Then he pinned the guy against the wall. The killer began to shriek--a high-pitched wailing like a cat that was being tortured.
Cordelia's head pounded harder at the sound and her vision started to grow blurry. A petite blond woman was suddenly standing over her wearing a long, red dress. She looked familiar somehow, but Cordelia couldn't remember where she'd seen her.
"Get away from her, Darla," Angel snapped, anger in his voice.
Darla...Darla...where had she heard that name before?
The killer's screams ended abruptly with the sound of a sickening crunch.
"But I'm still hungry," Darla breathed, bending over Cordelia, who stared up at her in confusion.
Angel grabbed the woman by her arm and yanked her away. "I said stay away from her!" he repeated menacingly.
Something's not right here, Cordelia thought as she struggled to stay conscious.
"What are you going to do to her?" Darla asked excitedly.
"Go wait for me in the alley across the street. I'll take care of it," Angel snarled.
Cordelia could hear Darla's retreating footsteps and she felt some relief that the woman was gone.
Angel turned to look at Cordelia. He was still in vamp-mode. Their eyes locked and they stared at each other for a very long, tense moment. Then he turned to leave.
"Angel?" she whispered weakly, knowing she was losing the battle for consciousness.
He turned to face her once more. "The name's Angelus."
Cordelia's face crumpled in confusion and pain. Angelus?
Before she had time to think about it, the pain throughout her body became too intense. And everything grew dark.
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"She's not answering her cellular," Wesley remarked grimly as he placed Cordelia's portable phone back into its cradle.
"Gunn and Oz haven't seen or heard from her since we got back from Roswell," Kate informed him as she slid her cell phone back into its holder on her belt. She watched as his face grew more worried. "What do you want to do?"
Wesley rubbed his forehead with one hand. "I think we should go out and look for her. I have a really bad feeling about this."
"So do I." She grabbed her jacket off the sofa and walked with him towards the door.
Just as they reached it, it flew open by itself and Cordelia stumbled inside.
"Oh, my God! Cordelia?" Wesley caught her before she hit the floor. Her dress was torn, her face and arms bruised. Dried blood matted her dark hair to the side of her head.
"I'll call an ambulance," Kate said immediately, whipping her phone back out.
"No," Cordelia choked out. "No ambulance. No doctors."
Wesley gave Kate a worried look, but shook his head and scooped Cordelia up into his arms. He carried her across the room to the sofa and laid her down as gently as possible. "What happened?"
"Call Gunn and Oz," she whispered, her voice strained. "Get them over here."
He nodded and Kate quickly placed the call. Then she carefully sat down on the edge of the sofa next to Cordelia.
A first aid kit floated into the room and Wesley quickly accepted it. "Thank you, Dennis." He opened the kit and then hesitated, afraid he'd hurt her more by trying to help.
Kate noticed the hesitation and gently took the kit from him. He gave her a grateful look. "Why don't you get some ice from the kitchen?" she suggested quietly.
Wesley stood up and walked to the kitchen, returning a moment later with the requested ice.
Kate focused on the head wound first. Luckily, it didn't look deep enough to require stitches. She dabbed some peroxide on a handful of cotton balls and gently brushed them over the gash. Cordelia cringed only slightly.
"Cordelia, what happened?" Wesley asked again, gently holding the ice against her left cheek.
"The killer...he attacked me outside. In the alley," she whispered hoarsely.
"Dear Lord," he muttered. "Are you all right? Are you sure you won't let us take you to the hospital?"
Cordelia shook her head slightly, then winced from the pain.
"I should go out and see if he's still hanging around," Kate said grimly, standing up.
"He's still there," Cordelia murmured, her face drained of all color. "But he's not going anywhere."
Kate stared at her.
"Angel," Wesley said quietly.
"It wasn't Angel."
Wesley frowned. "Then who--?"
Cordelia's eyes filled with tears. "He's gone, Wesley. Angel's gone."
His eyes widened. "He was staked?"
The tears spilled down her cheeks. "No...he's Angelus."
* * *
Part Three
"And hey, got to move all across this thing
As the moon has made everything mean
Now it tears apart my brain
My bones is beginning to shake
Reach out your hollow flame
Ohh, you're hangin' so weird and strange
Ohh, your darkest days
They're just beginning now....ohhh..."
Wesley sat on the edge of Cordelia's sofa, listening to the tick-tock of the clock on the wall. Gunn was seated in the chair a few feet away, and Oz was standing in the kitchen entrance, leaning against the wall.
"I wish I knew how Angel lost his soul again. Perhaps it's just something temporary," he murmured.
"He has to have a moment of true happiness, right?" Gunn asked.
He nodded.
"Maybe it happened when he killed that serial killer that was stalking Cordelia. That could have made him pretty happy."
Wesley gave him a look.
"Well, it could have," Gunn said defensively.
At that moment, the door to Cordelia's apartment opened. Wesley stood up, grabbing the crossbow off the coffee table in front of him.
Kate held her hands up. "It's just me."
He closed his eyes briefly. "Sorry."
She shook her head. "No apology necessary."
He studied her for a moment. "What are the police saying?"
Kate raked a hand through her blond hair. "That it was some sort of animal attack. They think that maybe one of the tigers or wolves from a local zoo got loose."
"Welcome to the world of denial," Oz commented.
"Yes, well. Fortunately in this case, denial is in our favor," Wesley remarked with a sigh.
Kate sat down on the sofa, rubbing her temples. He sat down next to her and rested a hand on her back. "It was awful. His intestines were on the ground next to his body and his throat was ripped out."
Gunn made a face. "Maybe Angel's faking his evilness because he went overboard on the guy's death. Maybe he didn't want us to think he was capable of doing it with a soul."
"He wasn't faking it."
Everyone looked up and saw Cordelia lingering in the hallway. She was still pale, though not quite as much as she had been. She was dressed in an oversized black sweater--Wesley recognized it as one Angel frequently wore--and a pair of sweatpants. Her hair was damp from the shower.
She glanced around the room. "He wasn't faking it. That wasn't Angel. Angel would never have left me lying in the alley like that." Her voice was soft with almost a hint of defeat to it.
Wesley nodded in agreement. "She's right. Angel wouldn't have left her there. What I don't understand is why Angelus did. He's not exactly known for his sympathy for those who are injured." He leaned forward. "He made no attempt to harm you at all?"
Cordelia shook her head. "He just stared at me for a minute and left."
"Well, hey. How bad can he really be if he got rid of some serial killer and didn't harm Cordy?" Gunn asked.
Oz looked over at him. "Really bad."
"Darla."
"What?" Wesley looked over at Cordelia.
"Darla. There was some woman with him named Darla. I didn't remember that before, but...I think she was a vampire." She noticed the way Wesley was staring at her in shock. "Wesley. What?"
He swallowed hard, not comprehending how it was possible. "Darla...is the vampire who sired Angel."
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"Home sweet home," Darla said with a smile as she lead the way into the abandoned warehouse where she'd been staying since Wolfram and Hart had resurrected her from Hell.
Angelus glanced around, frowning in distaste. "What happened to a room with a view?"
She shrugged. "Things change."
"Apparently." He walked around the place, memorizing his surroundings for future reference.
"So what did you do?"
He raised an eyebrow as he turned to face her.
"To the woman in the alley? Did you kill her?" There was a touch of hope mixed in with the curiosity in her voice.
"Maybe," he said evenly. For some reason, he didn't like his sire asking questions about Cordelia.
"Maybe?" Darla echoed, clearly annoyed with his vague response. "It's a simple question, Angelus. Did you kill her or didn't you?"
His eyes narrowed. "No."
She stared at him, her blue eyes cold.
"Why kill someone when it's so much more fun to torture them?"
Darla's lips curled into a smile.
Angelus forced a smile on his face, as well.
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Wesley was pacing her living room floor, carrying an old, dusty hardback book and flipping through the pages.
Cordelia stared down at her hands that were folded in her lap.
"Okay." Kate broke the silence. "So if Angel staked this vampire years ago, how is she here now?"
"She's the Messiah of vampires?" Gunn suggested.
"Are you *certain* that the woman you saw was Darla?" Wesley thrust the book he was carrying into her hands and pointed at an old sketch.
Cordelia studied it carefully. The sketch was done in black and white, and the clothes that the woman was wearing were from the mid-1700's...but the woman was the same one that had been with Angel...Angelus, she corrected herself mentally. Angel's gone now. "Yes, that's her."
He shook his head in frustration. "I don't understand how it's possible."
"Angel came back from Hell one time," Oz offered.
"Yes, but the Powers That Be sent him back here to atone for his sins, to be a champion for good. I highly doubt they saw it fit to return Darla to earth for the same reason."
"So then who did?"
"Someone with a great deal of power," Wesley murmured.
"And who doesn't mind using it against a lot of innocent people," Kate added.
Cordelia looked up and straight at Wesley. "Wolfram and Hart."
"Yes, of course."
"Those lawyers again? Man, those slimeballs never give up," Gunn said, disgusted.
"What am I missing?" Oz asked, frowning as he glanced at the other occupants in the room.
"Wolfram and Hart is a law firm here in L.A. They defend every lowlife in town, including demons and vampires," Wesley informed him.
"If there's anything evil happening around here, you can bet they have a hand in it," Kate said grimly.
"Sort of like the mayor of Sunnydale, then." Oz glanced at Cordelia, who nodded.
"Sort of like, yeah."
"Now I'm missing something," Gunn said.
"Mayor of Sunnydale--turned into this giant snake at our graduation ceremony. Killed a bunch of people," Oz explained.
"It was this whole big thing," Cordelia added.
"Buffy killed him. Blew him and the school up with a bunch of explosives."
"Got it." Gunn took a deep breath. "So back to the whole Angel-gone-evil issue. I get that his sire is somehow back, but how did he lose his soul?"
Wesley rubbed his forehead. "Probably due to the same people who resurrected Darla."
"Somebody needs to get rid of that whole damned law firm. So what do we do?"
Cordelia looked at Wesley and hugged her knees to her chest.
He closed the old book and set it on the coffee table. "I think the first thing we should do is perform the spell that reverses the invitation for Angel...Angelus to enter Cordelia's apartment."
Oz nodded his agreement.
"We need to call Buffy and warn her," Cordelia said softly.
Wesley met her gaze. "Yes. That's probably a good idea."
"I'll make the call," Oz volunteered.
"Thank you, Oz."
"Sure." He disappeared into the kitchen.
"So what do we need to perform this spell?" Kate asked, rubbing her eyes tiredly.
"It's actually a very simple incantation..."
Wesley and Kate kept talking, but Cordelia had quit listening. She stared at the photo of her with Angel and Wesley that was hanging above the fireplace. Hours ago she was terrified that Angel may have been staked, and now she was afraid that she may have to be the one to stake him.
She remembered in vivid detail everything that happened her junior year of high school--all of the things that Angelus had done, all the people he had hurt. She hadn't been close to Angel before he went evil that time. But now...
"You okay?"
She blinked away the tears that were brimming behind her eyelids and turned her head to see Gunn sitting next to her. For a moment, she remained silent, not sure how to answer his question. "I don't know," she said finally.
Gunn's eyebrows furrowed, but before he could question her further, Oz came back into the room frowning. "That was weird."
"What was?" Wesley asked, closing the spell book he'd used to finish the invitation revocation.
"I just tried calling Buffy's house, but the line was down. At Xander's and Giles', too."
Cordelia's eyes widened. "Wesley--"
"It's too soon to have anything to do with Angelus. Sunnydale's nearly three hours from here. Your encounter with Angelus was just over an hour ago," he assured her quickly.
"Maybe it's storming," Kate suggested, glancing at her. "The lines could've easily gotten knocked down if the wind got heavy enough."
She took a deep breath and nodded, grateful for the other woman's attempt at diverting her attention.
"Well, what now?" Gunn asked, standing up.
"Now...I'd suggest we all get some sleep. There's not much else we can do right now anyway and there's only a couple of hours until sunrise." Wesley looked around at each of them, his gaze landing on Cordelia. "It's probably a good idea if we all stayed here until it's day time."
"Yeah, Angelus could be anywhere," Oz said quietly.
"It's fine with me," Cordelia said quietly. "You and Kate can have the guest room if Oz and Gunn don't mind the sofa and the floor out here."
Wesley looked surprised.
"Floor's fine with me," Oz answered.
"I'll take the sofa," Gunn said, shrugging.
"All right." Cordelia stood up and walked back towards the hallway.
Wesley stopped her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Are you all right?" he asked lowly so that only she could hear.
She gazed at him for a moment and felt the tears building up again, but turned away before he could see. "I'll survive," she whispered. Then she walked with calm steps to her bedroom and shut the door behind her. She swept the tattered remains of her dresses off her bed and onto the floor. Then she sank down onto the mattress and put her face in her hands.
Phantom Dennis pulled the blankets back for her and she crawled under them and pressed her face into her pillow, sobbing silently. After awhile the tears subsided and she lay still, her mind not focusing on any one thing in particular. She was surprised by how quickly the exhaustion overtook her, but she allowed herself to sink down into its murky depths until she drifted off to sleep...
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Cordelia found herself in a vaguely familiar and beautiful meadow of wild flowers. She knew she'd seen this place before, but she couldn't remember when or under what circumstances.
"Princess."
She turned and stared. "Doyle! What...what are you doing here?"
He smiled at her as he walked closer. "Told ya I'd be around when ya needed me."
She felt relieved as he wrapped his arms around her. "I'm so glad to see you." Cordelia pulled away from his embrace. "You have to help me, Doyle. It's Angel...he..."
"I know." He nodded and sighed. "I'm just not sure I *can* help you."
"What do you mean?"
"This was all meant to happen, Princess. It was in the cards from the beginning."
"It was meant to happen? You mean...the Powers knew Angel was going to lose his soul again?" Cordelia stared at him in disbelief.
Doyle nodded again.
"But...why? Why would they let this happen? I don't understand!" She looked up at the powder blue sky that was slowly darkening.
"You're not supposed to understand it yet. Not 'til it's all done with."
"Well, that's just great. That's wonderful," Cordelia said sarcastically. The sky rumbled with thunder in the distance.
He looked up, frowning in concern. "Try to stay calm, Cordelia."
"Tell me what to do, Doyle," she pleaded as a hard rain started to fall.
"I can't. You already know. This isn't just about Angel." Doyle gently took hold of her arms and gazed at her. "Right now everything depends on you."
She shook her head, and the wind whipped her hair around. "It can't depend on me! I'm just a washed-up seer! What can I possibly do?"
"Look within, Princess!" Doyle shouted over the clattering of thunder. "Don't give up!"
Without another word, he disappeared.
"Doyle!" Cordelia screamed, peering through the blinding rain storm to try and find him. "Come back! I can't do this alone!"
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She whimpered in her sleep and kicked the blankets away, twisting in bed without awakening. The dream of her long-lost friend was over, but in turn, she was assaulted by memories and images of monsters in the night.
She had no idea that one of them was just outside her bedroom window on the fire escape, watching her intently as she slept.
Angelus waited silently, unable to take his eyes off her. He remained there until just shortly before sunrise. Then he fled the morning light, and headed back to the warehouse and to Darla.
Author: X_tremeroswellian
Email: faithboscorelli1@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: All Angel and Buffy the Vampire Slayer characters belong to Joss Whedon, David Greenwalt, and all the other nice people that actually get paid to work to work on the show, none of whom I have any affiliation with whatsoever. Please don't sue me; I'm a poor broke college student. Songs are "Yellow Light" by Remy Zero, and "Chosen Family" by Leona Naess.
Rating: R for violence, language and sexual content.
Spoilers: Up through "Are You Now or Have You Ever Been" and the first 20 stories in this series.
Timelines: Takes place immediately after "Darkness Falls."
Summary: Cordelia grows worried about Angel's absence; she later realizes her own life is still in jeopardy.
Distribution: Anyone with previous permission. Permenant home is at my site, Only Time.
Category: Story
Subcategories: horror/angst/friendship
Author's Note: This fic gets very dark (and I'm not talking about night-time, folks) and graphic. Proceed with extreme caution.
Feedback: Rates right up there with chocolate, hint, hint. :)
Dedication: To rousedowser, Anne, Windsor and Julia.
Darkest Hour (Part One)
"And hey, got to move all across this thing
As the moon has made everything mean
Now it tears apart my brain
My bones is beginning to shake
Reach out your hollow flame
Ohh, you're hangin' so weird and strange
Ohh, your darkest days
They're just beginning now....ohhh..."
Something was wrong.
Cordelia paced back and forth in her living room, her lavender dress swishing as she moved. "Where is he, Dennis? He should be back by now."
Not unexpectedly, Dennis remained silent.
However, a mug of fresh hot chocolate floated over and hovered in front of her. "Thanks, but I don't think cocoa's going to help," she told him. The mug floated over and landed on her coffee table.
Cordelia ran a hand through her hair, trying to keep herself calm.
But with each passing moment, her anxiety grew. She wasn't sure how she knew it...chalk it up to woman's intuition or whatever...but something was wrong. She felt it with every bone in her body.
"Oh, God, Dennis! What if he got staked?" Her eyes widened with horror as a series of images of how life without Angel would be like flashed through her mind.
She felt Dennis smooth the hair off her forehead. "I know, I know. I'm freaking out over nothing. He's probably fine. I'm sure he is. He's Angel. He probably just ran into some demons attacking someone and stopped to help. He'll be back any minute, right? Yep, any minute." She stared at the door, hoping that it would swing open. When it didn't, she took a deep breath. "Okay, no more babbling." She crossed the room and grabbed the phone off its cradle. Then she hit speed dial button #2.
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Wesley lay in bed, Kate's head resting on his bare chest. He stroked her back gently and played with the ends of her golden hair. She sighed contently and snuggled closer to him. He kissed her forehead. "Did you always want to be a police officer?"
"Actually, believe it or not, when I was younger, I wanted to be a country music singer."
"What happened?"
She stared at the wall. "My father wanted a son. To follow in his footsteps and become an officer. But I was the only child he and my mom ever had."
"So, trying to win your father's love and approval, you followed in his footsteps instead."
"That's the gist of it." Kate raised her head up and gazed at him. "What about you?"
"I wanted to be a writer. But my father was a watcher and he had a certain...influence on the council. I was inducted when I was twelve."
"It's amazing how much parents can affect their children," she murmured.
He looked into her eyes. "What about your mother?"
"She died when I was six. I don't remember her very well. But she used to wear this perfume...I don't know what it was, but it smelled like Spring. You know, when all the flowers begin to bloom again after a long, cold winter. And I remember she used to bake me homeade chocolate chip cookies...to this day, that's my favorite kind of cookie. My father never even attempted to bake. When I was growing up, we always had take-out or something on the grill. I honestly don't even remember the last time I had homeade chocolate chip cookies..." Kate's voice trailed off. "I'm sorry. I'm probably boring you to tears."
Wesley shook his head. "Not at all. I'm honored that you talk to me about your life." He kissed her forehead again.
She smiled at him.
Just then his telephone rang. He frowned as he glanced at the digital clock by his bed. It was 11 p.m. "I should get it...Cordelia may have had a vision, or..." His voice trailed off and he looked at her apologetically.
"Don't feel bad on my account," Kate assured him, moving over so he could grab the phone.
Wesley pressed it to his ear. "Hello?"
"Wesley, something's wrong!"
"What is it?" he asked, immediately worried from the sound of his friend's voice.
"The killer was outside my window! Angel went after him!"
"Okay, just stay calm. I'm sure that Angel's fine--"
"Wesley, that was almost three hours ago!"
He looked at Kate, who was watching him with concern. "All right. I'm going to get dressed and come over there. Then we'll figure out what to do. Just sit tight, okay?"
"Okay."
Wesley hung up the phone.
"What happened?"
"The killer was outside Cordelia's window. Angel went after him. Three hours ago," he said grimly.
Her eyes widened slightly. "I'll go with you."
"I appreciate that," he said sincerely as their eyes met. Then they both rushed to locate their clothes.
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Angelus's eyes focused on the figure at the back of the darkened room. "Wow, I'm hungry," he remarked as he walked towards Lindsey McDonald.
Lindsey looked a bit worried, but held his ground.
"Angelus," Darla said sweetly.
He glanced back at her.
"Let's show him a little mercy," she suggested.
He raised an eyebrow. "When have you ever shown *anyone* mercy?"
"Well, he did bring me back, after all. And he got rid of that nasty soul of yours. We should show him our appreciation. Besides, he may turn out to be useful later."
Angelus sighed heavily, glanced at Lindsey again, then shrugged. "He probably would have tasted like a rat anyway."
She walked over and took him by the arm. "Let's go out. It's been so long since I've had a night on the town."
He grinned. "And I'm in the mood to feed."
Darla smiled seductively. "You definitely should. You'll need all your strengh for later." She turned and waved at the lawyer at the back of the warehouse. "Ta-ta, Lindsey!"
Without another word, the two vampires left the warehouse and stalked out into the dark night.
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Cordelia sat on the edge of her sofa, unable to pay attention to The X-Files marathon that was running on FX. She had called Wesley twenty minutes ago. Where the hell is he? she wondered.
If only she knew what was going on, if Angel was okay.
She stood up. "Why can't the PTB send me a vision right about now? I mean, if Angel's in some kind of trouble, they would send me a vision so I could help him, right? I mean, it's not like I can just pick up the phone and dial..." Her voice trailed off as something else suddenly occurred to her. "That's it! Dennis, I'll be back soon! Let Wesley in when he comes over!"
Cordelia grabbed her purse and ran out of her apartment.
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She looked around the semi-crowded demon bar and frowned. She spotted Lorne in the back at a table alone. She took a deep breath and hurried over to him.
"Hey, there, beautiful. What are you doing here tonight? And all dressed up, no less. Is that a Donna Karen?"
She looked down, having completely forgotten to change clothes. "Yeah. Listen, I need you to do your Sylvia Browne thing."
Lorne raised an eyebrow. "You know the rules, sweetcheeks." He nodded towards the stage where a five-eyed blue demon was belting out, "Ain't No Mountain High Enough."
Cordelia cringed. "Couldn't you just--" she waved her arms in the air. "--forget the rules this one timie? Angel's in trouble."
He frowned. "Sorry to hear that, but the problem is I *can't* read your future unless you sing."
"Okay, okay. Fine." She sighed, and waited impatiently until the demon on stage was finished. Then she rushed up there, looked over the song selections, and quickly chose one.
Cordelia drew in a nervous breath, pulled the microphone off its stand and began to sing along with the music.
"He's no Cassanova
He's no pushover
He's no king
And I hope he's no queen
He is kind
And I know you'll agree
He is my chosen family
When his hands are in mine
I know that we'll be fine
And no ocean can keep me away
My love...
He's no star
But he drives a fast car
He lost his folks a long time ago
And if you look
You can still catch the blow
He is my chosen family
When his hands are in mine
I know that we'll be fine
And no ocean can keep me away
My love...
He's no Cassanova
He's no pushover
He is no king
And I know he's no queen
He is kind
And I know you'll agree
He is my chosen family...
When his hands are in mine
I know that we'll be fine
And no ocean can keep me away
My love...
My love...
My love...
My love...
My love."
Cordelia placed the microphone back onto its stand and fled the stage, making a beeline for Lorne's table.
He had a worried expression on his face.
"What is it?" she asked, clenching her hands together.
"Sit down, cupcake." He pulled out a chair for her.
She sat down and stared at him. "Tell me."
"When's the last time you had a vision?" he questioned, studying her.
Cordelia blinked and tried to remember the last vision she'd had...it had been weeks.
"That's what I thought. The Powers are testing you."
"Testing me? Why?"
"I don't know for sure what's going on. But I can tell you that you're headed straight into trouble." He took a sip of the martini he was drinking.
"Look, I'm not worried about me right now. It's Angel that I'm worried about."
Lorne shook his head. "You're worried about the wrong person, then, sweetie. You're the one in danger." He leaned toward her and dropped his voice slightly. "You're about to face the darkest hours of your life. Are you ready for that?"
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Wesley and Kate both covered their ears as they walked up the stairs to Cordelia's apartment. Apparently one of her neighbors was having a loud dance party. Loud music blasted somewhere from down the hall. When he reached Cordelia's door, he banged his fists on the wood, hoping she'd be able to hear him over the racket. "Cordelia!" he shouted. "It's Wesley!"
The door opened by itself a moment later.
"Thank you, Dennis," he told Cordelia's ghostly roommate. He stepped into the apartment, then reached back and took Kate's hand. "Cordelia?" he called loudly.
Kate closed the door behind them.
Wesley walked through the apartment, searching for any signs of his friend. When he reached her bedroom door, he froze. "Dear Lord," he muttered, staring at the mess of shredded clothes and grafitti on the wall.
Kate came up behind him and sucked in a breath. "I should call headquarters and get a team out here to work on this."
He nodded. "If Angel caught up to the man who did this..."
"...there will be one less active serial killer in the U.S.?" she finished.
They exchanged a look.
"Maybe I shouldn't make that call."
"I have to agree." Wesley backed out of the room and walked out to the living room. "I don't understand why Cordelia isn't here. She knew I was on my way over."
"Do you think she went after Angel?" Kate asked, frowning.
He looked over at her. "I don't know," he answered quietly. "And that's what worries me."
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Cordelia climbed out of the taxi cab in front of her apartment building, a dull pain thudding in her temples. The darkest hours of her life were coming up.
Great. Cause I've already had my share of bright, happy hours, she thought wryly.
And what the hell were the PTB testing her for, anyway? It didn't make sense.
But at least Angel wasn't in danger, which made her feel somewhat relieved.
She reached the front door of her apartment building, then realized she'd forgotten to put her keys in her purse. Good thing I have a roommate, she thought as she reached up to buzz the intercom box.
Before she could push the button, someone grabbed her from behind. A large hand covered her mouth and kept her from screaming as she was dragged around into the alley.
"Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting for this, Cordelia?" a voice hissed in her ear. "A very long, long time."
* * *
Part Two
Cordelia twisted in the arms of her captor, trying to break free.
"Stop struggling. You'll only make it worse on yourself," he commanded in a low voice. He dragged her farther down the dark alley.
She bit his hand.
"You bitch!" he spat, releasing her briefly. He punched her in the face and sent her crashing into the brick wall.
Cordelia gasped at the pain in her head as she slid to the ground, unable to stand. She raised her hand to her head and cringed when it came back covered in blood.
She froze when she saw him remove a long butcher knife from his back pocket. She fumbled around on the ground, trying to locate something she could use to defend herself with. Her hand closed around an empty old beer bottle. She pushed herself to her feet unsteadily. "Stay away from me," she warned, keeping the bottle hidden behind her back.
He sneered at her from behind the black ski mask. "I'm afraid that's not how this works." He advanced on her quickly.
She kept herself as calm as she could, allowing him to get close enough to her. He grabbed her by one arm, and with her free arm she slammed the bottle into his head, shattering it. Glass rained down on the street.
Cordelia didn't wait to see his reaction. She jerked out of his grasp and bolted around him, her heart racing. She cried out as he kicked her feet out from under her. She hit the ground hard, with him on top of her. Unable to breathe from the force of the fall and his weight, she was completely defenseless.
He pinned her arms above her head with one hand. The other hand--the one still holding the knife--traveled down her body. She heard the tearing of fabric as he sliced her dress down the side.
Cordelia could taste bile at the back of her throat as her entire body went completely numb.
She was going to be a statistic. Would her parents find out? Would it really bother them? Or the Scooby gang? Would they cry at her funeral?
Wesley would. Angel, too. Maybe even Kate and Gunn. Her friends from Roswell would be upset, but probably wouldn't make it to the funeral services.
"I'm going to enjoy this," he told her. He lowered his head and licked the side of her face.
She shuddered and gagged and then turned her head away. I don't want to die like this, she thought desperately, her numbness turning once again into panic. She tried to bring up her legs to knee him in the groin, but to no avail.
"Now, now," he warned, holding the knife up in front of her face.
Cordelia glared at him defiantly. "Fuck you," she said darkly. Then she spat on him.
Enraged, he wiped the spit off his cheek and punched her in the face again. "I'd be glad to," he remarked, shoving her legs apart.
Cordelia screamed.
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Angelus watched with disinterest as Darla fed off of an old homeless man. He yawned and leaned against the side of the building. His gaze traveled and fixed upon the familiar apartment building across the street. A smile crept up on his lips.
He glanced back at his resurrected sire. "I'll be back later."
Darla tore her fangs out of the man's throat and let his lifeless body drop to the ground with a dull thud. "I'll come with you," she said eagerly.
Angelus rolled his eyes and wondered how he's spent so many years with this woman. She was so...predictable. So dull.
A terrified and familiar scream shattered the silence of the night. Before he even realized what he was doing, Angelus was off and running.
There, in the alley way of the apartment building, he spotted a man sitting on top of Cordelia. Fury rose within him. Without understanding the rage he felt, Angelus launched himself forward with a growl.
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Cordelia tried to roll away as he unfastened his jeans, but he hit her again and she was in too much pain to move.
Tears ran down her face as the world began to spin. Angel, where are you? she wondered.
A second later, she heard a growl and then the killer was no longer on top of her. She sucked in a lungful of air, her ribs aching in tandom with the pounding in her skull.
"What the--"
"No one touches her!" a familiar voice snarled.
Cordelia squinted and she could dimly make out a large figure as he threw the killer up against the wall. "Angel?" she murmured.
Feral yellow eyes turned to her for a moment.
The killer raised his knife up and threw himself at Angel.
"Angel, look out!" she cried.
He turned and effortlessly knocked the knife out of the man's hands. Then he pinned the guy against the wall. The killer began to shriek--a high-pitched wailing like a cat that was being tortured.
Cordelia's head pounded harder at the sound and her vision started to grow blurry. A petite blond woman was suddenly standing over her wearing a long, red dress. She looked familiar somehow, but Cordelia couldn't remember where she'd seen her.
"Get away from her, Darla," Angel snapped, anger in his voice.
Darla...Darla...where had she heard that name before?
The killer's screams ended abruptly with the sound of a sickening crunch.
"But I'm still hungry," Darla breathed, bending over Cordelia, who stared up at her in confusion.
Angel grabbed the woman by her arm and yanked her away. "I said stay away from her!" he repeated menacingly.
Something's not right here, Cordelia thought as she struggled to stay conscious.
"What are you going to do to her?" Darla asked excitedly.
"Go wait for me in the alley across the street. I'll take care of it," Angel snarled.
Cordelia could hear Darla's retreating footsteps and she felt some relief that the woman was gone.
Angel turned to look at Cordelia. He was still in vamp-mode. Their eyes locked and they stared at each other for a very long, tense moment. Then he turned to leave.
"Angel?" she whispered weakly, knowing she was losing the battle for consciousness.
He turned to face her once more. "The name's Angelus."
Cordelia's face crumpled in confusion and pain. Angelus?
Before she had time to think about it, the pain throughout her body became too intense. And everything grew dark.
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"She's not answering her cellular," Wesley remarked grimly as he placed Cordelia's portable phone back into its cradle.
"Gunn and Oz haven't seen or heard from her since we got back from Roswell," Kate informed him as she slid her cell phone back into its holder on her belt. She watched as his face grew more worried. "What do you want to do?"
Wesley rubbed his forehead with one hand. "I think we should go out and look for her. I have a really bad feeling about this."
"So do I." She grabbed her jacket off the sofa and walked with him towards the door.
Just as they reached it, it flew open by itself and Cordelia stumbled inside.
"Oh, my God! Cordelia?" Wesley caught her before she hit the floor. Her dress was torn, her face and arms bruised. Dried blood matted her dark hair to the side of her head.
"I'll call an ambulance," Kate said immediately, whipping her phone back out.
"No," Cordelia choked out. "No ambulance. No doctors."
Wesley gave Kate a worried look, but shook his head and scooped Cordelia up into his arms. He carried her across the room to the sofa and laid her down as gently as possible. "What happened?"
"Call Gunn and Oz," she whispered, her voice strained. "Get them over here."
He nodded and Kate quickly placed the call. Then she carefully sat down on the edge of the sofa next to Cordelia.
A first aid kit floated into the room and Wesley quickly accepted it. "Thank you, Dennis." He opened the kit and then hesitated, afraid he'd hurt her more by trying to help.
Kate noticed the hesitation and gently took the kit from him. He gave her a grateful look. "Why don't you get some ice from the kitchen?" she suggested quietly.
Wesley stood up and walked to the kitchen, returning a moment later with the requested ice.
Kate focused on the head wound first. Luckily, it didn't look deep enough to require stitches. She dabbed some peroxide on a handful of cotton balls and gently brushed them over the gash. Cordelia cringed only slightly.
"Cordelia, what happened?" Wesley asked again, gently holding the ice against her left cheek.
"The killer...he attacked me outside. In the alley," she whispered hoarsely.
"Dear Lord," he muttered. "Are you all right? Are you sure you won't let us take you to the hospital?"
Cordelia shook her head slightly, then winced from the pain.
"I should go out and see if he's still hanging around," Kate said grimly, standing up.
"He's still there," Cordelia murmured, her face drained of all color. "But he's not going anywhere."
Kate stared at her.
"Angel," Wesley said quietly.
"It wasn't Angel."
Wesley frowned. "Then who--?"
Cordelia's eyes filled with tears. "He's gone, Wesley. Angel's gone."
His eyes widened. "He was staked?"
The tears spilled down her cheeks. "No...he's Angelus."
* * *
Part Three
"And hey, got to move all across this thing
As the moon has made everything mean
Now it tears apart my brain
My bones is beginning to shake
Reach out your hollow flame
Ohh, you're hangin' so weird and strange
Ohh, your darkest days
They're just beginning now....ohhh..."
Wesley sat on the edge of Cordelia's sofa, listening to the tick-tock of the clock on the wall. Gunn was seated in the chair a few feet away, and Oz was standing in the kitchen entrance, leaning against the wall.
"I wish I knew how Angel lost his soul again. Perhaps it's just something temporary," he murmured.
"He has to have a moment of true happiness, right?" Gunn asked.
He nodded.
"Maybe it happened when he killed that serial killer that was stalking Cordelia. That could have made him pretty happy."
Wesley gave him a look.
"Well, it could have," Gunn said defensively.
At that moment, the door to Cordelia's apartment opened. Wesley stood up, grabbing the crossbow off the coffee table in front of him.
Kate held her hands up. "It's just me."
He closed his eyes briefly. "Sorry."
She shook her head. "No apology necessary."
He studied her for a moment. "What are the police saying?"
Kate raked a hand through her blond hair. "That it was some sort of animal attack. They think that maybe one of the tigers or wolves from a local zoo got loose."
"Welcome to the world of denial," Oz commented.
"Yes, well. Fortunately in this case, denial is in our favor," Wesley remarked with a sigh.
Kate sat down on the sofa, rubbing her temples. He sat down next to her and rested a hand on her back. "It was awful. His intestines were on the ground next to his body and his throat was ripped out."
Gunn made a face. "Maybe Angel's faking his evilness because he went overboard on the guy's death. Maybe he didn't want us to think he was capable of doing it with a soul."
"He wasn't faking it."
Everyone looked up and saw Cordelia lingering in the hallway. She was still pale, though not quite as much as she had been. She was dressed in an oversized black sweater--Wesley recognized it as one Angel frequently wore--and a pair of sweatpants. Her hair was damp from the shower.
She glanced around the room. "He wasn't faking it. That wasn't Angel. Angel would never have left me lying in the alley like that." Her voice was soft with almost a hint of defeat to it.
Wesley nodded in agreement. "She's right. Angel wouldn't have left her there. What I don't understand is why Angelus did. He's not exactly known for his sympathy for those who are injured." He leaned forward. "He made no attempt to harm you at all?"
Cordelia shook her head. "He just stared at me for a minute and left."
"Well, hey. How bad can he really be if he got rid of some serial killer and didn't harm Cordy?" Gunn asked.
Oz looked over at him. "Really bad."
"Darla."
"What?" Wesley looked over at Cordelia.
"Darla. There was some woman with him named Darla. I didn't remember that before, but...I think she was a vampire." She noticed the way Wesley was staring at her in shock. "Wesley. What?"
He swallowed hard, not comprehending how it was possible. "Darla...is the vampire who sired Angel."
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"Home sweet home," Darla said with a smile as she lead the way into the abandoned warehouse where she'd been staying since Wolfram and Hart had resurrected her from Hell.
Angelus glanced around, frowning in distaste. "What happened to a room with a view?"
She shrugged. "Things change."
"Apparently." He walked around the place, memorizing his surroundings for future reference.
"So what did you do?"
He raised an eyebrow as he turned to face her.
"To the woman in the alley? Did you kill her?" There was a touch of hope mixed in with the curiosity in her voice.
"Maybe," he said evenly. For some reason, he didn't like his sire asking questions about Cordelia.
"Maybe?" Darla echoed, clearly annoyed with his vague response. "It's a simple question, Angelus. Did you kill her or didn't you?"
His eyes narrowed. "No."
She stared at him, her blue eyes cold.
"Why kill someone when it's so much more fun to torture them?"
Darla's lips curled into a smile.
Angelus forced a smile on his face, as well.
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Wesley was pacing her living room floor, carrying an old, dusty hardback book and flipping through the pages.
Cordelia stared down at her hands that were folded in her lap.
"Okay." Kate broke the silence. "So if Angel staked this vampire years ago, how is she here now?"
"She's the Messiah of vampires?" Gunn suggested.
"Are you *certain* that the woman you saw was Darla?" Wesley thrust the book he was carrying into her hands and pointed at an old sketch.
Cordelia studied it carefully. The sketch was done in black and white, and the clothes that the woman was wearing were from the mid-1700's...but the woman was the same one that had been with Angel...Angelus, she corrected herself mentally. Angel's gone now. "Yes, that's her."
He shook his head in frustration. "I don't understand how it's possible."
"Angel came back from Hell one time," Oz offered.
"Yes, but the Powers That Be sent him back here to atone for his sins, to be a champion for good. I highly doubt they saw it fit to return Darla to earth for the same reason."
"So then who did?"
"Someone with a great deal of power," Wesley murmured.
"And who doesn't mind using it against a lot of innocent people," Kate added.
Cordelia looked up and straight at Wesley. "Wolfram and Hart."
"Yes, of course."
"Those lawyers again? Man, those slimeballs never give up," Gunn said, disgusted.
"What am I missing?" Oz asked, frowning as he glanced at the other occupants in the room.
"Wolfram and Hart is a law firm here in L.A. They defend every lowlife in town, including demons and vampires," Wesley informed him.
"If there's anything evil happening around here, you can bet they have a hand in it," Kate said grimly.
"Sort of like the mayor of Sunnydale, then." Oz glanced at Cordelia, who nodded.
"Sort of like, yeah."
"Now I'm missing something," Gunn said.
"Mayor of Sunnydale--turned into this giant snake at our graduation ceremony. Killed a bunch of people," Oz explained.
"It was this whole big thing," Cordelia added.
"Buffy killed him. Blew him and the school up with a bunch of explosives."
"Got it." Gunn took a deep breath. "So back to the whole Angel-gone-evil issue. I get that his sire is somehow back, but how did he lose his soul?"
Wesley rubbed his forehead. "Probably due to the same people who resurrected Darla."
"Somebody needs to get rid of that whole damned law firm. So what do we do?"
Cordelia looked at Wesley and hugged her knees to her chest.
He closed the old book and set it on the coffee table. "I think the first thing we should do is perform the spell that reverses the invitation for Angel...Angelus to enter Cordelia's apartment."
Oz nodded his agreement.
"We need to call Buffy and warn her," Cordelia said softly.
Wesley met her gaze. "Yes. That's probably a good idea."
"I'll make the call," Oz volunteered.
"Thank you, Oz."
"Sure." He disappeared into the kitchen.
"So what do we need to perform this spell?" Kate asked, rubbing her eyes tiredly.
"It's actually a very simple incantation..."
Wesley and Kate kept talking, but Cordelia had quit listening. She stared at the photo of her with Angel and Wesley that was hanging above the fireplace. Hours ago she was terrified that Angel may have been staked, and now she was afraid that she may have to be the one to stake him.
She remembered in vivid detail everything that happened her junior year of high school--all of the things that Angelus had done, all the people he had hurt. She hadn't been close to Angel before he went evil that time. But now...
"You okay?"
She blinked away the tears that were brimming behind her eyelids and turned her head to see Gunn sitting next to her. For a moment, she remained silent, not sure how to answer his question. "I don't know," she said finally.
Gunn's eyebrows furrowed, but before he could question her further, Oz came back into the room frowning. "That was weird."
"What was?" Wesley asked, closing the spell book he'd used to finish the invitation revocation.
"I just tried calling Buffy's house, but the line was down. At Xander's and Giles', too."
Cordelia's eyes widened. "Wesley--"
"It's too soon to have anything to do with Angelus. Sunnydale's nearly three hours from here. Your encounter with Angelus was just over an hour ago," he assured her quickly.
"Maybe it's storming," Kate suggested, glancing at her. "The lines could've easily gotten knocked down if the wind got heavy enough."
She took a deep breath and nodded, grateful for the other woman's attempt at diverting her attention.
"Well, what now?" Gunn asked, standing up.
"Now...I'd suggest we all get some sleep. There's not much else we can do right now anyway and there's only a couple of hours until sunrise." Wesley looked around at each of them, his gaze landing on Cordelia. "It's probably a good idea if we all stayed here until it's day time."
"Yeah, Angelus could be anywhere," Oz said quietly.
"It's fine with me," Cordelia said quietly. "You and Kate can have the guest room if Oz and Gunn don't mind the sofa and the floor out here."
Wesley looked surprised.
"Floor's fine with me," Oz answered.
"I'll take the sofa," Gunn said, shrugging.
"All right." Cordelia stood up and walked back towards the hallway.
Wesley stopped her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Are you all right?" he asked lowly so that only she could hear.
She gazed at him for a moment and felt the tears building up again, but turned away before he could see. "I'll survive," she whispered. Then she walked with calm steps to her bedroom and shut the door behind her. She swept the tattered remains of her dresses off her bed and onto the floor. Then she sank down onto the mattress and put her face in her hands.
Phantom Dennis pulled the blankets back for her and she crawled under them and pressed her face into her pillow, sobbing silently. After awhile the tears subsided and she lay still, her mind not focusing on any one thing in particular. She was surprised by how quickly the exhaustion overtook her, but she allowed herself to sink down into its murky depths until she drifted off to sleep...
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Cordelia found herself in a vaguely familiar and beautiful meadow of wild flowers. She knew she'd seen this place before, but she couldn't remember when or under what circumstances.
"Princess."
She turned and stared. "Doyle! What...what are you doing here?"
He smiled at her as he walked closer. "Told ya I'd be around when ya needed me."
She felt relieved as he wrapped his arms around her. "I'm so glad to see you." Cordelia pulled away from his embrace. "You have to help me, Doyle. It's Angel...he..."
"I know." He nodded and sighed. "I'm just not sure I *can* help you."
"What do you mean?"
"This was all meant to happen, Princess. It was in the cards from the beginning."
"It was meant to happen? You mean...the Powers knew Angel was going to lose his soul again?" Cordelia stared at him in disbelief.
Doyle nodded again.
"But...why? Why would they let this happen? I don't understand!" She looked up at the powder blue sky that was slowly darkening.
"You're not supposed to understand it yet. Not 'til it's all done with."
"Well, that's just great. That's wonderful," Cordelia said sarcastically. The sky rumbled with thunder in the distance.
He looked up, frowning in concern. "Try to stay calm, Cordelia."
"Tell me what to do, Doyle," she pleaded as a hard rain started to fall.
"I can't. You already know. This isn't just about Angel." Doyle gently took hold of her arms and gazed at her. "Right now everything depends on you."
She shook her head, and the wind whipped her hair around. "It can't depend on me! I'm just a washed-up seer! What can I possibly do?"
"Look within, Princess!" Doyle shouted over the clattering of thunder. "Don't give up!"
Without another word, he disappeared.
"Doyle!" Cordelia screamed, peering through the blinding rain storm to try and find him. "Come back! I can't do this alone!"
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She whimpered in her sleep and kicked the blankets away, twisting in bed without awakening. The dream of her long-lost friend was over, but in turn, she was assaulted by memories and images of monsters in the night.
She had no idea that one of them was just outside her bedroom window on the fire escape, watching her intently as she slept.
Angelus waited silently, unable to take his eyes off her. He remained there until just shortly before sunrise. Then he fled the morning light, and headed back to the warehouse and to Darla.