Disclaimer: I obviously did not create these characters. I obviously write this stuff myself, only a single twisted mind could deliver such trash.
Personal Disclaimer: I am a graduate student, I spend 90% of my time reading and proofreading important papers for my like, you know, um, future, so don't count on a lot of proofreading of my fanfics. As a matter of fact a good bet would be at least four spelling errors and an abominable lack of punctuation.
Oh, also, I love feedback, the good, the bad, and the ugly, but mostly the good. :)
Cordelia, Angel thinks about her almost every day, it has been three years since he has seen her, all due to a stupid argument over her wedding, he didn't like the guy, it wasn't jealousy, it was a feeling he got, but she would hear none of it and eventually they had lost track of each other, he thought about her most when he received these stupid cryptic ougia board type messages from the PTB's this time it was a flash on his TV screen, just and address and an image of a girl, scared, sitting on a bed in what looked like a shelter, he headed off to save someone, it's what he did.
Angel walked into the Women's shelter, there is a dormitory style room and scanned the beds, shrugging off the agitated guard. He sees her, she is sitting with her arms curled around her bent legs her forehead resting on her knees, he scoops her and her bag in his arms and walks out of the building, ignoring the women who are yelling at him. He places her in his car and arrives quickly back at the office.
Wesley was at a desk looking for something regarding the strange demon they had encountered several nights ago when Angel came in with the girl in his arms. Wesley stood up immediately, is she, is she dead he asked.
Angel shook his head, just barely alive I think, she passed out in the car, she's been through something bad, I heard her mumbling.
Wesley looked at the thin frail woman in Angels arms, her face was hidden by her hair which didn't look or smell as if it had seen soap or water for days.
I'm putting her to bed Angel said. Yes of course replied Wesley. Angel was prepared for this, he had seen more and more cases like this one lately, people who needed a safehouse until whatever had gotten to them was destroyed. He put the girl on the bed in the spare room he had put together. There was nothing in the room but a bed a chair and a stool, but the door locked and it was safe, he could keep and eye on whomever the PTBs needed him to save.
He laid the girl out and took a sharp and unneeded intake of breathe when he saw her face. It was not the bruises or the blood, that shocked him, it was the face itself, he knew each curve of that mouth, each dimple, it was Cordelia, and she looked like death. He hadn't cried since the wedding, he wanted to cry now. Something had attacked her, something vicious and it had left her helpless, and almost incoherent, she was trying to talk in her sleep but what she said made no sense. Angel settled her into bed and retrieved a pair of sweat pants and one of his shirts, just something for her to wear when she came to.
He chose the stool rather than the chair and sat next to the bed, he would sit for as long as it took until she awoke, he needed to know what had done this to her, he needed to destroy it. He sat and waited.
It was hours before she awoke. When she did she didn't seem to notice Angel at first. Her first instinct was to curl up in the corner of the bed in the same position he had found her, arms around her legs, head on her knees. When she looked up and saw Angel a tear fell onto her knee.
Angel?
Cordelia.
Angel, what, um, I have to go she said, she grabbed her bag from beside the bed and headed toward the door. She didn't quite make it, she fell just before she got to the door. He picked her up for the second time that day and laid her gently into the bed. This time her turned off the light and locked the door. He planted himself in a chair in front of her room, he would give her privacy, but he would not let her go, not again, not after what she had been through.
While he waited he remembered all of the terrible things he had said to her, all of his efforts to stop her from making what he saw as a monumental mistake. The guy she had married was an accountant, rich, and seemingly devoted to Cordelia but something about him bothered Angel at the time, sometimes he wondered if it had been jealousy, as he fondly recalled each time Cordelia had defended him to someone. She was always so brave, and so devoted. He wondered what had happened to her and his hands clenched in fists, he found himself pacing in front of the door, waiting for her to wake up, he needed to know. He needed to fix this.
Cordelia came to a couple of hours later, and as before scrambled to the only position in which she felt safe anymore. She rummaged through her bag until she found what she was looking for and swallowed the pill dry, the strong sedatives were the only thing that kept her sanity these days. She wondered if she could use Angels shower before she left, and she had to leave, soon, this was nothing she could allow Angel to get involved in. This she would handle herself.
She peeked her head out of the door and Angel stopped his pacing.
Angel?, could I um use your shower, she asked.
Sure, of course, there are towels beside the tub, help yourself.
Thanks, she smiled, and then grimaced at the pain it caused.
Angel watched her move, slowly, as if every muscle in her body hurt, and in fact each one was screaming in agony but she would not let angel see the extent of her pain.
While she showered Angel handed her clothes to Wesley and had him throw them in the washer and dryer. 30 minutes later she peeked her head out the door, Angel, where are my clothes? I sent Wesley to wash them, there is a robe on the back of the door.
Um, oh, thanks, I guess. She put on the thick terry robe and realized that it only reached her knees, the bruises on her legs would be obvious, she stood in the bathroom, not sure what to do, she could make a quick dash for the room with her stuff, or she could hide in the bathroom. A quick dash was out of the question she realized, even the painkillers and hot shower had not readied her for that, she sat and waited.
After another ten minutes angel knocked, you okay in there he asked.
Yeah, just fine, I'm just waiting for my clothes.
Cordelia, come on out, we have to talk.
Angel, I'm fine, really I just need my clothes and I'll be gone, you won't have to worry anymore.
You're not leaving he said, at least not until we talk.
He knew if he had any say in it she wouldn't leave until he was sure she was safe, but for now he didn't want to overwhelm her with that, he just wanted to know what had hurt her like this.
She ventured out of the bathroom, he took in her appearance and tried to settle his expression to it's usual taciturn stoic demeanor, it was difficult. He saw a bruise on her neck to match the mottled purple on her eye. There was an older bruise fading on the side of her face. Her lip was cut, and there were dark purple marks on her legs, he didn't want to think about how high those bruises reached or the implications. Instead he just offered her a cup of tea with sugar and cream the way she had always taken it. He also brought over a box of donughts, hoping she would eat something. She drank the tea in silence, refusing to make eye contact with him, keeping her hair over her face and her body curled in the chair as if she were trying to take up as little space as possible.
What happened he asked, it was almost a whisper.
Nothing, she replied, trying to smile, it is stupid, I was in a car accident, and I didn't want to go home and tell Greg because he loved that car.
So you went to a shelter rather than home to your husband.
Well, I guess it doesn't make a lot of sense to you, but he really loved that car.
And the car, that's what punched you in the face.
Yeah, well, obviously not punched but I hit my head, got thrown from the car, ended up pretty banged up.
Did you go to the hospital? Angel wasn't buying a word of it.
She stared at her tea cup as if the right answer lay at the bottom.
Angel listen, do you have anything stronger than tea?
Coffee he asked.
More like vodka?
There's some brandy I'll get you some.
Thanks again, this time she didn't even try to smile. The pain was getting worse again.
She moved slowly over to the room where she had slept, and retrieved her bag, she moved aside a book and her wallet as well as some papers, there were no clothes in it but she found what she was looking for, a small aspirin bottle, but the contents weren't aspirin. She took out two of the beige pills and put them under her tongue. She was ready to head back to the living room when she spied the sweats and shirt, she started to change when Angel peeked his head in to check on her.
She was naked when he looked in, her entire body covered with bruises, and the part that bothered Angel most, they were in different states of healing. This was not a one time deal, whatever had been coming after her had done so several times. He backed out of the room quickly, allowing her the privacy to change he clothes.
She came back out, an almost comical figure in clothes far too large for her, it would be comical, if the ensemble hadn't accentuated her frailties, and her pale coloring. In all the times Angel had imagined her, he had never seen pictured her looking anything but beautiful, tan, and perfectly groomed. This was a shock and he again felt the overwhelming need to fix it.
Listen Cordelia said, heading towards the door bag in hand, thanks for the loan, of the clothes and the bed, but I really should get home. I will send the clothes back, you can keep my stuff. Burn it, I don't need it.
Don't go Cordelia.
Cordelia looked at him, it would be easy she thought to let him deal with this, but then, no it wouldn't, it would be complicated, more complicated than she cared to imagine, so she braved a smile, swallowed the pills which were dissolving under her tongue with a bracing shot of brandy, and walked towards the door.
Angel beat her there. He slid the door shut and stood in front of it. I can't let you go back out there.
I'm not, she lied, I'm going home, to my husband, the one you hate, she added quietly.
Cordelia, I guess I was wrong, I don't have a problem with Greg, just tell me what happened, the Powers That Be don't send messages because a friend got into a car wreck, something did this to you and from the looks of things more than once, you need to tell me what happened, so I can fix it.
He remained calm, his body was tensed for action, but he didn't know what kind, he could stop her physically from leaving, from her glassy eyed look he might just have to catch her quickly before she fell, or he might have to head out into the night and annihilate whatever had hurt her so thoroughly, it all depended on what she did next.
What she did next was not what he was prepared for, she began to cry. Body wracking sobs. She sank to the floor and curled up in her now familiar little ball and cried. Angel lowered himself to the floor and held her. He pressed her head against his chest and soothed her as one would a small child. His anger became even greater. Cordelia so proud and strong reduced to this. He hated demons, but this was more than hate, this was visceral.
Cordelia allowed herself the luxury, she told herself it was just for a minute and then she would be on her way. For the moment though strong arms around her, a strong chest in which to bury her head, this was a luxury she had forgotten about, and she relished it.
Wesley found them twenty minutes later, in the same position. He had her clothes, and some sandwiches, and the diet Pepsi Cordelia had always craved. He sat on the couch and waited for the crying jag to end. He himself had reasons to hate whatever had done this to her, and did not intend for Angel to fight it alone.
When Cordelia came to her senses she was drained, emotionally and physically, all she could think of was sleep, but she knew that sleeping here, staying another night where she was safe and cared for would only make what she had to do harder, so she gathered up her bag, and the clothes Wesley had put beside her and again headed toward the door. This time she got three steps before Wesley stopped her.
Cordelia, you are not leaving here, you are hurt and you are staying and, you are going to bloody well tell us what is going on. His face was stern, the watcher in him coming out. Whatever it is, we will research it, we will find it's weaknesses, and we will kill it, and you are obviously not safe until we do.
Cordelia let out a laugh that bordered on hysteria, she poured herself another brandy and swallowed it down in a single gulp. Then she sat. Curled in that same ball, she sat on the chair Angel had left facing her room. Her back was towards the two of them and she considered her options.
She could tell them the truth, she discarded that immediately. She could tell them another lame lie, or she could bide her time until she came up with something better, she got a strong suspicion that they are not going to let her leave. Her heart swelled, she felt a physical pang at the thought of the two men standing behind her, concerned only for her safety an nothing else at the moment. She headed towards her room. I need some sleep she said, not turning her head to look at either one.
Both Wesley and Angel stood, not sure if they had won the battle, but relived that she didn't seem to want to leave. They heard the lock on her door click and they sat down to discuss what was on both their minds... What the hell had happened to her.
Wesley began, some sort of demon obviously. Angel added, this wasn't her first battle with it, the bruises, their in different stages of healing, some new, others maybe a week older or more.
God, Wesley shook his head. What she must have been through, still she could have come to us. Hurt feelings or not, to put up with a demon after you, surely she knows we would have helped.
Angel stared down at his hands. Maybe not, maybe the things we said to each other can't be taken back, maybe she was still to angry with us to even think about us.
They both sat in silence, lost in their own thoughts. Wesley had not disapproved of the marriage, but had heartily disapproved of her leaving Angel investigations. They were fighting, she and Angel, he saw that, but her visions, her gift, from Doyle, was she willing to turn her back on that? And she had. For the first few months they had received phone calls to tell them what she had seen, the visions eventually stopped entirely, and they had not spoken now for years. Wesley regretted it, but he knew Angel regretted it more. As much as he tried to be Wesley could never be as strong a link to the human world for Angel as Cordelia had been.
Angel's thoughts were more self critical. He knew this was his fault. If not for him Cordelia would never have been involved in the otherwold of LA. And if not for him her attempt to leave it would not have led to such consequences. He frowned, and wondered when she would wake up. This waiting with nothing to fight situation was worse than his summer in hell.
Both Angel and Wesley had nodded off in the living room when Cordelia peeked her head out hours later. She tiptoed through the living room hoping to slip out before either of them saw her. She had been here over 24 hours now, if she didn't get back there would be hell to pay. She was about to slide open the door when Angel, stealthy as always touched her hand. She jumped.
Going somewhere?
Um, for a bagel, I was hungry, she lied.
Wesley, get Cordelia a bagel, sesame, with cream cheese, those are the ones she likes if I remember correctly. He raised an eyebrow at her, she and I will be talking.
Wesley went to the kitchen his only hope that Angel would finally get her to reveal what it was they should be fighting.
Cordelia sat resignedly on the sofa, Angel stood and waited. Cordelia curled herself into a ball again, a now familiar position.
Angel stood waiting.
Cordelia sighed.
Angel Waited.
Cordelia looked up at Angel but when their eyes met she quickly looked away.
Angel Waited.
Cordelia fiddled with her hair, and then gratefully accepted the bagel from Wesley, who sat on the chair.
Angel Waited.
Cordelia took a bite and chewed thoughtfully. Each movement of her jaw was excruciating, but she tried not to show it. She wasn't at all hungry, and really only wanted to get out of here but she was becoming increasingly aware that until she came up with a good story she would not be allowed to leave. Again the strange longing sensation of being cared for.
Angel Waited.
Cordelia took a sip of the tea Wesley had provided.
Angel Waited.
Cordelia looked to Wesley, who did not seem willing to offer any support in her plea to leave.
Angel Waited.
Cordelia Began.
I was in a car accident, because a slime demon came out from nowhere and attacked me, he called me the one who sees, he apparently didn't have a recent tour book, I haven't had a vision in 2 and a half years. Anyway, it attacked me and I crashed the car, and I forgot where I was and my phone number. It's stupid, I could remember my husbands face, and a lot of other stuff but not his last name, our last name, she corrected quickly, or address or phone number, but I remember them now, so alls well that ends well, right. She smiled, and prayed he would buy it.
Angel Waited.
Cordelia looked at him pleadingly and then began playing with her hair.
Angel Waited.
If I tell you the truth she asked, do you promise to let me handle it, not to get involved?
Angel waited.
Is there any way I am going to be allowed to leave without telling you what happened she asked.
No, Angel replied.
Okay, I will tell you, but it is stupid and you have to promise not to be too angry with me.
Angel Waited.
Greg, remember Greg, you know, from my wedding? Angel nodded.
Well Greg and I were doing fine, but suddenly about six months ago, business just started to take a nose dive. He was losing clients and they weren't giving explanations, just pulling their accounts and heading elsewhere, anyway Greg was really concerned about money but then about a month ago he got a new client, and it was the first time I had ever interfered with his business but it really concerned me.
Angel Waited.
It was Wolfram and Hart. Just out of nowhere they hired him as an outside accountant for some of their smaller clients, and they told him that if he proved himself he would either be taken into the firm or given their larger clients for contract work. Well, I mean, how can I sit by and watch him handle and manage the money of, well of demons, or people in league with demons. Okay I have not exactly been otherworld girl lately, and I don't have the visions anymore but I still know that demons are bad, and that Wolfram and Hart's world isn't an easy place to leave. I told him not to take the job.
Angel sat next to her, and was upset when he saw her cringe at his nearness, she really hated him he thought. So, Angel started, Wolfram and Hart sent someone to do this to you he asked, relieved, hurting those as W+H would be enjoyable enough without the added bonus of hurting whomever had hurt his friend.
Cordelia was silent, it would be easy to let him believe that it was a minion from W+H but she had come this far, she would tell him the rest, and he would see that it was nothing he needed to get involved in.
Can I have some more of that brandy, she asked.
Wesley poured her a double and she downed it in a single gulp.
It wasn't someone from Wolfram and Hart exactly, she said in a quiet voice, staring at her knees.
Then who was it...exactly, Angel asked.
It was Greg.
She waited but there was no response, the room was silent she was afraid to look up, she knew there would be accusing faces from each of them. She knew she had been wrong to tell them, they had been so concerned, a demon was after her. Now that they knew it was only her husband, they would be angry.
Wesley and Angel looked at each other, not shocked, only saddened, the strong self serving bitch they had loved had allowed her husband to do this to her? Angel looked at Cordelia again, as concerned as ever if not more.
She stood up, so it's nothing for you two to worry about, just a domestic squabble. Lets keep in touch okay? She grabbed her bag and headed toward the door.
Angel stood at the door, to stop her. I am tired of keeping you from leaving, he said, lets set a couple of ground rules. A. You are going to the hospital to be thoroughly taken care of and B. Then you are coming back here. You are not leaving until I know you are safe, nothing has changed he said, his broad chest blocking her exit. She looked at the floor, getting out of the hospital would be easier than getting out of this apartment. She agreed and they headed toward the car.
Cut to the hospital
Angel is in the waiting area, when a doctor approaches. Are you the boyfriend. No Angel answers, she's married, to someone else...not me. His underlying idea... don't get mad at me, I didn't do this.
Is that the husband, the doctor gestures towards Wesley. No, we're friends of hers, is she okay. The doctor looks at them. She might be.
Angel stands for a moment in silence, he expected a yes. Might???
She was hurt badly, a couple of times, there are a couple of healed fractures, a current broken rib, and well, signs that she was raped. Whoever has been doing this to her has been doing it for a while. She needs a safe place to be, and a therapist for the guilt.
It is most definitely not her fault, Wesley cut in.
I am not implying that it is, the doctor defended himself. She however believes it to be. She has apologized to me, my nurses, the lab techs, everyone, for bothering them. She has internalized this, so although she may not be in any physical danger at the moment, she is in a position to put herself in it again.
Can we see her Angel asked?
She's in room 12, we're releasing her in about an hour, I can buy you another hour or two at the most, but after that, she is free to go, she is an adult and I can't keep her here against her will.
Angel nodded, she won't be putting herself in any more danger. He walked past the doctor to see his friend, Wesley stayed behind. He wanted to be there but Angel and Cordelia had a special bond that needed to be strengthened again, before anything else could be done.
Cordelia saw him walk in, and reminded herself, just agree with him and get him out of here, then you can leave.
She tried a smile, it didn't reach her eyes.
Angel sat next to her and took the hand that was not wrapped in a bandage. Hey, he said.
Hi, she replied.
You and I, um, I'm sorry he said.
She looked at him, what was he apologizing for? No Angel, this is my fault, I lied to you, I let you think it was a demon, I am sorry, about all of it. Look, the doctor said he could release me soon, and then I can go, get out of your way, let you get back to fighting the good fight, right? She smiled at him and hoped he would make it this easy.
His hand tightened around hers. She really did believe this to be her fault. The rage he usually reserved for vampires who preyed on the weak and unsuspecting boiled up in him towards Greg. He tried not to show it, anger would only scare Cordelia more.
Angel, Cordelia said, in a small voice, can we just not talk about this anymore.
He looked at her, stared into her eyes, she averted his gaze.
Cordelia, we have to talk about this. He hurt you. It is not your fault, It's okay, you'll be safe, you can stay with me.
I can't she replied. I have to go home to him.
He stared at her, dumbstruck.
She began again, quickly before he could interrupt with more promises of safety that she couldn't accept. I left him for a day or two, stayed at the shelter. In a softer tone, I've done it before. It gives me a chance to recoup, gives him a little time to calm down, and then I go home, and we work things out. It won't happen again Angel, he was just mad, mad about my telling him what to do about his business, mad about... well, a lot of things, but this was the worst Angel, it isn't usually like this, and I think he's gonna realize it, even when I was leaving he promised to get some help. He's probably already seeing someone about this.
Angel didn't know if she believed what she had just told him, but he knew he didn't. He had seen it once or twice before in those who had come to him, and maybe the men were capable of getting help, of being in good relationships with women they didn't want to hurt, but he had never seen it. He would not let her go back.
Cordelia, he raped you. The words were out of his mouth before he could think, and the moment they were said he wanted to take them back. This line of talk would only scare her more.
She took in a sharp breath which caused her no small amount of pain. How do you, what did, um, no, no he didn't.
The doctor told me, he told me a lot of things. This isn't new behavior for him, and this kind of pain, it isn't new for you. Cordelia, you deserve so much more, please, don't go back to this to him.
Cordelia laughed. Deserved more? That was funny. Angel, this is my fault. I know what makes him angry, I knew that when I told him what to do he would be angry, I knew when I told him about...other things he would be angry, I knew, and I did it anyway, this is my fault.
I can't say this enough, Cordelia, this is not your fault, no matter what he had no right to hurt you. It doesn't matter what you told him, and by the way, you are right, getting involved with Wolfram and Hart is too dangerous to just sit by and watch it happen, but Cordelia, this is not you, it is him. He is the one doing the hitting, I'm willing to lay odds that he is not suffering from a myriad of broken bones and bruises. You didn't hit him, this is not, your fault.
Cordelia wanted to believe him, it would be so nice to just go back to her old life, when the life threatening demons were clearly bad, and she didn't love and need them, but she had chosen her lot. She had walked out on her friends and threw her gift by the side of the road, the parting gift Doyle had given her. She had made the choice. She could not go back, in a few days Angel would find something far more evil to fight and she would return to her status as memory.
Angel, I am sorry about everything, but really, I am okay, or I will be, I just need to sleep in my own bed and maybe have a drink or two, talk to my husband, maybe see a counselor with him, work through some stuff, and then it will all be okay.
Wesley walked into the room then. He looked as if he had been crying but at the moment his face was set in the manner he saved for disobeying slayers and the repair man who charged him too much for the last job. Cordelia, stop asking to leave. You are not leaving.
Yes, she is Angel said. If she wants to go home, we can't stop her. Wesley's jaw dropped. Cordelia felt a sense of relief mixed with sharp disappointment, one more man promising safety and comfort and then forgetting about it. She eased herself off the bed
Now if you gentlemen will give me a moments privacy, I would like to get dressed.
They both walked out of the room.
Wesley started, Angel, we cannot...
Angel cut him off, we're not. I have no intention of leaving her alone with him, but fighting her constantly to keep her in my place like a prisoner, that's not going to work either.
You have a plan, Wesley said.
I have a plan, Angel repeated.
Cordelia met them at the doorway, her bag in hand, could, god I hate asking this, um, could I borrow cab fare, I forgot to bring my wallet with me.
I'll drive you Angel said.
Cut to a large house somewhere in the Hollywood hills.
Angel, Cordelia and Wesley are all sitting in Angel's car, it was just after sunset when they left the hospital. A silent hour's car ride later they had arrived and Cordelia and Greg's home. It was lavish, with a gated driveway, none of them said a word.
Cordelia broke the silence. Thank you, I'm sorry, for everything, goodbye, and with that she took her bag and rang the bell on the front door.
They sat in the car and watched as Greg greeted her at the door, he didn't look happy to see her. Greg looked past her and stared at Angel's car, as it drove away.
So Wesley asked, what is the plan?
I go there, I hit him hard in the face, I take Cordelia back with me.
Wesley looked at him, not a complicated plan, can I help?
Yes, you can make sure that my place is ready for her when she gets back, pick up some clothes, and whatever that white stuff, um yogurt, and whatever else she likes to eat, I want her to feel welcome. Oh, and Wesley, get some more brandy, I think she cleaned us out.
Wesley left to run errands, normally he might feel resentful of such menial tasks being assigned to him, but at the moment, anything that would help rectify this situation seemed important.
Angel waited about an hour. When he heard shouting and something break he rang the bell. Cordelia answered the door, Greg was not far behind. Angel, wha, um, oh, come in.
Angel was relived she had remembered that he needed the invitation. He put on his best drunk brogue and stumbled across the threshold. Cordelia, Cordelia, I need the use of your sofa, it seems, I'm ,oh, what's that word you use, wasted. Of course, she walked next to Angel and supported him on her good side, although she noticed he was not really leaning his weight on her. She settled him on the couch and he seemed to pass out immediately.
Greg grabbed her arm and spun her around, so he sneered, this is your precious Angel, the one so important you wanted me to turn down Wolfram and Hart.
Angel continued his charade as a passed out drunk as he listed carefully.
Cordelia walked past him into a room off of the living room, and shut the door, Greg followed. Angel could hear every word they were saying through the door, he listened intently.
Greg, look, I saw Angel yesterday. I didn't want to tell you because I knew you would respond like this. I guess he just needed a place to crash tonight, but it is not what you think at all.
Not what I think, Greg yelled. How could your little shallow mind possibly begin to imagine what I think? First you almost call off the wedding because your Boss doesn't like me, then, you continue to call him in the middle of the night for the first six months of our marriage, and now, when things need a little work, you go running to him, explain to me Cordelia how it could be something other than you screwing your old flame huh?
Cordelia knew that this was the crux of the matter. The whole argument, the arguments had always been about Angel. She could not tell Greg what he was, or what he meant to her, and so Greg imagined something else, something more ordinary but also more infuriating. She understood his anger. She loved Greg and was so hurt last year when she found out he had slept with someone else after one of their fights but she knew that that too was somehow her fault, that the fighting and the constant coldness between them had led them to it.
Cordelia knew that Greg assumed that she had once loved Angel, and now he was sitting her accusing her of still loving him, She knew she should be quite, let him rant, but she couldn't stand that he might be as hurt as she had been. She tried to reassure him.
Greg, I never, Angel and I never, I mean he was a friend, but that is all, it is not what you think.
Greg exploded, he grabbed a small paperweight off of the desk and threw it at the door, he came menacingly closer to her and she cowered. His arm went up and she steeled herself for the coming blow, trying to protect her bad arm and rib.
The blow never came, when she looked up Angel had Greg pinned against the desk, Greg's back bent Angel's hands on his throat.
I will tell this to you once. She is leaving with me, you do not touch her, come near her, or think about her again, or I will snap your neck, after I let you experience the kind of pain you have put her in, do you understand me?
Greg said nothing, he could say nothing with the diminished air supply Angels hand allowed.
Cordelia, Angel Said over his shoulder, there is a cab outside, get in.
Cordelia did not think about it this time, she just went.
Angel let go of Greg once he was sure that Cordelia was safely out of the house, and followed her into the cab. He gave the driver his address, and held Cordelia as she leaned against his chest and began to cry.
She was not okay, but she would be, he would see to that personally.
The end of part one.
I love feedback about anything but typing and grammar.
Personal Disclaimer: I am a graduate student, I spend 90% of my time reading and proofreading important papers for my like, you know, um, future, so don't count on a lot of proofreading of my fanfics. As a matter of fact a good bet would be at least four spelling errors and an abominable lack of punctuation.
Oh, also, I love feedback, the good, the bad, and the ugly, but mostly the good. :)
Cordelia, Angel thinks about her almost every day, it has been three years since he has seen her, all due to a stupid argument over her wedding, he didn't like the guy, it wasn't jealousy, it was a feeling he got, but she would hear none of it and eventually they had lost track of each other, he thought about her most when he received these stupid cryptic ougia board type messages from the PTB's this time it was a flash on his TV screen, just and address and an image of a girl, scared, sitting on a bed in what looked like a shelter, he headed off to save someone, it's what he did.
Angel walked into the Women's shelter, there is a dormitory style room and scanned the beds, shrugging off the agitated guard. He sees her, she is sitting with her arms curled around her bent legs her forehead resting on her knees, he scoops her and her bag in his arms and walks out of the building, ignoring the women who are yelling at him. He places her in his car and arrives quickly back at the office.
Wesley was at a desk looking for something regarding the strange demon they had encountered several nights ago when Angel came in with the girl in his arms. Wesley stood up immediately, is she, is she dead he asked.
Angel shook his head, just barely alive I think, she passed out in the car, she's been through something bad, I heard her mumbling.
Wesley looked at the thin frail woman in Angels arms, her face was hidden by her hair which didn't look or smell as if it had seen soap or water for days.
I'm putting her to bed Angel said. Yes of course replied Wesley. Angel was prepared for this, he had seen more and more cases like this one lately, people who needed a safehouse until whatever had gotten to them was destroyed. He put the girl on the bed in the spare room he had put together. There was nothing in the room but a bed a chair and a stool, but the door locked and it was safe, he could keep and eye on whomever the PTBs needed him to save.
He laid the girl out and took a sharp and unneeded intake of breathe when he saw her face. It was not the bruises or the blood, that shocked him, it was the face itself, he knew each curve of that mouth, each dimple, it was Cordelia, and she looked like death. He hadn't cried since the wedding, he wanted to cry now. Something had attacked her, something vicious and it had left her helpless, and almost incoherent, she was trying to talk in her sleep but what she said made no sense. Angel settled her into bed and retrieved a pair of sweat pants and one of his shirts, just something for her to wear when she came to.
He chose the stool rather than the chair and sat next to the bed, he would sit for as long as it took until she awoke, he needed to know what had done this to her, he needed to destroy it. He sat and waited.
It was hours before she awoke. When she did she didn't seem to notice Angel at first. Her first instinct was to curl up in the corner of the bed in the same position he had found her, arms around her legs, head on her knees. When she looked up and saw Angel a tear fell onto her knee.
Angel?
Cordelia.
Angel, what, um, I have to go she said, she grabbed her bag from beside the bed and headed toward the door. She didn't quite make it, she fell just before she got to the door. He picked her up for the second time that day and laid her gently into the bed. This time her turned off the light and locked the door. He planted himself in a chair in front of her room, he would give her privacy, but he would not let her go, not again, not after what she had been through.
While he waited he remembered all of the terrible things he had said to her, all of his efforts to stop her from making what he saw as a monumental mistake. The guy she had married was an accountant, rich, and seemingly devoted to Cordelia but something about him bothered Angel at the time, sometimes he wondered if it had been jealousy, as he fondly recalled each time Cordelia had defended him to someone. She was always so brave, and so devoted. He wondered what had happened to her and his hands clenched in fists, he found himself pacing in front of the door, waiting for her to wake up, he needed to know. He needed to fix this.
Cordelia came to a couple of hours later, and as before scrambled to the only position in which she felt safe anymore. She rummaged through her bag until she found what she was looking for and swallowed the pill dry, the strong sedatives were the only thing that kept her sanity these days. She wondered if she could use Angels shower before she left, and she had to leave, soon, this was nothing she could allow Angel to get involved in. This she would handle herself.
She peeked her head out of the door and Angel stopped his pacing.
Angel?, could I um use your shower, she asked.
Sure, of course, there are towels beside the tub, help yourself.
Thanks, she smiled, and then grimaced at the pain it caused.
Angel watched her move, slowly, as if every muscle in her body hurt, and in fact each one was screaming in agony but she would not let angel see the extent of her pain.
While she showered Angel handed her clothes to Wesley and had him throw them in the washer and dryer. 30 minutes later she peeked her head out the door, Angel, where are my clothes? I sent Wesley to wash them, there is a robe on the back of the door.
Um, oh, thanks, I guess. She put on the thick terry robe and realized that it only reached her knees, the bruises on her legs would be obvious, she stood in the bathroom, not sure what to do, she could make a quick dash for the room with her stuff, or she could hide in the bathroom. A quick dash was out of the question she realized, even the painkillers and hot shower had not readied her for that, she sat and waited.
After another ten minutes angel knocked, you okay in there he asked.
Yeah, just fine, I'm just waiting for my clothes.
Cordelia, come on out, we have to talk.
Angel, I'm fine, really I just need my clothes and I'll be gone, you won't have to worry anymore.
You're not leaving he said, at least not until we talk.
He knew if he had any say in it she wouldn't leave until he was sure she was safe, but for now he didn't want to overwhelm her with that, he just wanted to know what had hurt her like this.
She ventured out of the bathroom, he took in her appearance and tried to settle his expression to it's usual taciturn stoic demeanor, it was difficult. He saw a bruise on her neck to match the mottled purple on her eye. There was an older bruise fading on the side of her face. Her lip was cut, and there were dark purple marks on her legs, he didn't want to think about how high those bruises reached or the implications. Instead he just offered her a cup of tea with sugar and cream the way she had always taken it. He also brought over a box of donughts, hoping she would eat something. She drank the tea in silence, refusing to make eye contact with him, keeping her hair over her face and her body curled in the chair as if she were trying to take up as little space as possible.
What happened he asked, it was almost a whisper.
Nothing, she replied, trying to smile, it is stupid, I was in a car accident, and I didn't want to go home and tell Greg because he loved that car.
So you went to a shelter rather than home to your husband.
Well, I guess it doesn't make a lot of sense to you, but he really loved that car.
And the car, that's what punched you in the face.
Yeah, well, obviously not punched but I hit my head, got thrown from the car, ended up pretty banged up.
Did you go to the hospital? Angel wasn't buying a word of it.
She stared at her tea cup as if the right answer lay at the bottom.
Angel listen, do you have anything stronger than tea?
Coffee he asked.
More like vodka?
There's some brandy I'll get you some.
Thanks again, this time she didn't even try to smile. The pain was getting worse again.
She moved slowly over to the room where she had slept, and retrieved her bag, she moved aside a book and her wallet as well as some papers, there were no clothes in it but she found what she was looking for, a small aspirin bottle, but the contents weren't aspirin. She took out two of the beige pills and put them under her tongue. She was ready to head back to the living room when she spied the sweats and shirt, she started to change when Angel peeked his head in to check on her.
She was naked when he looked in, her entire body covered with bruises, and the part that bothered Angel most, they were in different states of healing. This was not a one time deal, whatever had been coming after her had done so several times. He backed out of the room quickly, allowing her the privacy to change he clothes.
She came back out, an almost comical figure in clothes far too large for her, it would be comical, if the ensemble hadn't accentuated her frailties, and her pale coloring. In all the times Angel had imagined her, he had never seen pictured her looking anything but beautiful, tan, and perfectly groomed. This was a shock and he again felt the overwhelming need to fix it.
Listen Cordelia said, heading towards the door bag in hand, thanks for the loan, of the clothes and the bed, but I really should get home. I will send the clothes back, you can keep my stuff. Burn it, I don't need it.
Don't go Cordelia.
Cordelia looked at him, it would be easy she thought to let him deal with this, but then, no it wouldn't, it would be complicated, more complicated than she cared to imagine, so she braved a smile, swallowed the pills which were dissolving under her tongue with a bracing shot of brandy, and walked towards the door.
Angel beat her there. He slid the door shut and stood in front of it. I can't let you go back out there.
I'm not, she lied, I'm going home, to my husband, the one you hate, she added quietly.
Cordelia, I guess I was wrong, I don't have a problem with Greg, just tell me what happened, the Powers That Be don't send messages because a friend got into a car wreck, something did this to you and from the looks of things more than once, you need to tell me what happened, so I can fix it.
He remained calm, his body was tensed for action, but he didn't know what kind, he could stop her physically from leaving, from her glassy eyed look he might just have to catch her quickly before she fell, or he might have to head out into the night and annihilate whatever had hurt her so thoroughly, it all depended on what she did next.
What she did next was not what he was prepared for, she began to cry. Body wracking sobs. She sank to the floor and curled up in her now familiar little ball and cried. Angel lowered himself to the floor and held her. He pressed her head against his chest and soothed her as one would a small child. His anger became even greater. Cordelia so proud and strong reduced to this. He hated demons, but this was more than hate, this was visceral.
Cordelia allowed herself the luxury, she told herself it was just for a minute and then she would be on her way. For the moment though strong arms around her, a strong chest in which to bury her head, this was a luxury she had forgotten about, and she relished it.
Wesley found them twenty minutes later, in the same position. He had her clothes, and some sandwiches, and the diet Pepsi Cordelia had always craved. He sat on the couch and waited for the crying jag to end. He himself had reasons to hate whatever had done this to her, and did not intend for Angel to fight it alone.
When Cordelia came to her senses she was drained, emotionally and physically, all she could think of was sleep, but she knew that sleeping here, staying another night where she was safe and cared for would only make what she had to do harder, so she gathered up her bag, and the clothes Wesley had put beside her and again headed toward the door. This time she got three steps before Wesley stopped her.
Cordelia, you are not leaving here, you are hurt and you are staying and, you are going to bloody well tell us what is going on. His face was stern, the watcher in him coming out. Whatever it is, we will research it, we will find it's weaknesses, and we will kill it, and you are obviously not safe until we do.
Cordelia let out a laugh that bordered on hysteria, she poured herself another brandy and swallowed it down in a single gulp. Then she sat. Curled in that same ball, she sat on the chair Angel had left facing her room. Her back was towards the two of them and she considered her options.
She could tell them the truth, she discarded that immediately. She could tell them another lame lie, or she could bide her time until she came up with something better, she got a strong suspicion that they are not going to let her leave. Her heart swelled, she felt a physical pang at the thought of the two men standing behind her, concerned only for her safety an nothing else at the moment. She headed towards her room. I need some sleep she said, not turning her head to look at either one.
Both Wesley and Angel stood, not sure if they had won the battle, but relived that she didn't seem to want to leave. They heard the lock on her door click and they sat down to discuss what was on both their minds... What the hell had happened to her.
Wesley began, some sort of demon obviously. Angel added, this wasn't her first battle with it, the bruises, their in different stages of healing, some new, others maybe a week older or more.
God, Wesley shook his head. What she must have been through, still she could have come to us. Hurt feelings or not, to put up with a demon after you, surely she knows we would have helped.
Angel stared down at his hands. Maybe not, maybe the things we said to each other can't be taken back, maybe she was still to angry with us to even think about us.
They both sat in silence, lost in their own thoughts. Wesley had not disapproved of the marriage, but had heartily disapproved of her leaving Angel investigations. They were fighting, she and Angel, he saw that, but her visions, her gift, from Doyle, was she willing to turn her back on that? And she had. For the first few months they had received phone calls to tell them what she had seen, the visions eventually stopped entirely, and they had not spoken now for years. Wesley regretted it, but he knew Angel regretted it more. As much as he tried to be Wesley could never be as strong a link to the human world for Angel as Cordelia had been.
Angel's thoughts were more self critical. He knew this was his fault. If not for him Cordelia would never have been involved in the otherwold of LA. And if not for him her attempt to leave it would not have led to such consequences. He frowned, and wondered when she would wake up. This waiting with nothing to fight situation was worse than his summer in hell.
Both Angel and Wesley had nodded off in the living room when Cordelia peeked her head out hours later. She tiptoed through the living room hoping to slip out before either of them saw her. She had been here over 24 hours now, if she didn't get back there would be hell to pay. She was about to slide open the door when Angel, stealthy as always touched her hand. She jumped.
Going somewhere?
Um, for a bagel, I was hungry, she lied.
Wesley, get Cordelia a bagel, sesame, with cream cheese, those are the ones she likes if I remember correctly. He raised an eyebrow at her, she and I will be talking.
Wesley went to the kitchen his only hope that Angel would finally get her to reveal what it was they should be fighting.
Cordelia sat resignedly on the sofa, Angel stood and waited. Cordelia curled herself into a ball again, a now familiar position.
Angel stood waiting.
Cordelia sighed.
Angel Waited.
Cordelia looked up at Angel but when their eyes met she quickly looked away.
Angel Waited.
Cordelia fiddled with her hair, and then gratefully accepted the bagel from Wesley, who sat on the chair.
Angel Waited.
Cordelia took a bite and chewed thoughtfully. Each movement of her jaw was excruciating, but she tried not to show it. She wasn't at all hungry, and really only wanted to get out of here but she was becoming increasingly aware that until she came up with a good story she would not be allowed to leave. Again the strange longing sensation of being cared for.
Angel Waited.
Cordelia took a sip of the tea Wesley had provided.
Angel Waited.
Cordelia looked to Wesley, who did not seem willing to offer any support in her plea to leave.
Angel Waited.
Cordelia Began.
I was in a car accident, because a slime demon came out from nowhere and attacked me, he called me the one who sees, he apparently didn't have a recent tour book, I haven't had a vision in 2 and a half years. Anyway, it attacked me and I crashed the car, and I forgot where I was and my phone number. It's stupid, I could remember my husbands face, and a lot of other stuff but not his last name, our last name, she corrected quickly, or address or phone number, but I remember them now, so alls well that ends well, right. She smiled, and prayed he would buy it.
Angel Waited.
Cordelia looked at him pleadingly and then began playing with her hair.
Angel Waited.
If I tell you the truth she asked, do you promise to let me handle it, not to get involved?
Angel waited.
Is there any way I am going to be allowed to leave without telling you what happened she asked.
No, Angel replied.
Okay, I will tell you, but it is stupid and you have to promise not to be too angry with me.
Angel Waited.
Greg, remember Greg, you know, from my wedding? Angel nodded.
Well Greg and I were doing fine, but suddenly about six months ago, business just started to take a nose dive. He was losing clients and they weren't giving explanations, just pulling their accounts and heading elsewhere, anyway Greg was really concerned about money but then about a month ago he got a new client, and it was the first time I had ever interfered with his business but it really concerned me.
Angel Waited.
It was Wolfram and Hart. Just out of nowhere they hired him as an outside accountant for some of their smaller clients, and they told him that if he proved himself he would either be taken into the firm or given their larger clients for contract work. Well, I mean, how can I sit by and watch him handle and manage the money of, well of demons, or people in league with demons. Okay I have not exactly been otherworld girl lately, and I don't have the visions anymore but I still know that demons are bad, and that Wolfram and Hart's world isn't an easy place to leave. I told him not to take the job.
Angel sat next to her, and was upset when he saw her cringe at his nearness, she really hated him he thought. So, Angel started, Wolfram and Hart sent someone to do this to you he asked, relieved, hurting those as W+H would be enjoyable enough without the added bonus of hurting whomever had hurt his friend.
Cordelia was silent, it would be easy to let him believe that it was a minion from W+H but she had come this far, she would tell him the rest, and he would see that it was nothing he needed to get involved in.
Can I have some more of that brandy, she asked.
Wesley poured her a double and she downed it in a single gulp.
It wasn't someone from Wolfram and Hart exactly, she said in a quiet voice, staring at her knees.
Then who was it...exactly, Angel asked.
It was Greg.
She waited but there was no response, the room was silent she was afraid to look up, she knew there would be accusing faces from each of them. She knew she had been wrong to tell them, they had been so concerned, a demon was after her. Now that they knew it was only her husband, they would be angry.
Wesley and Angel looked at each other, not shocked, only saddened, the strong self serving bitch they had loved had allowed her husband to do this to her? Angel looked at Cordelia again, as concerned as ever if not more.
She stood up, so it's nothing for you two to worry about, just a domestic squabble. Lets keep in touch okay? She grabbed her bag and headed toward the door.
Angel stood at the door, to stop her. I am tired of keeping you from leaving, he said, lets set a couple of ground rules. A. You are going to the hospital to be thoroughly taken care of and B. Then you are coming back here. You are not leaving until I know you are safe, nothing has changed he said, his broad chest blocking her exit. She looked at the floor, getting out of the hospital would be easier than getting out of this apartment. She agreed and they headed toward the car.
Cut to the hospital
Angel is in the waiting area, when a doctor approaches. Are you the boyfriend. No Angel answers, she's married, to someone else...not me. His underlying idea... don't get mad at me, I didn't do this.
Is that the husband, the doctor gestures towards Wesley. No, we're friends of hers, is she okay. The doctor looks at them. She might be.
Angel stands for a moment in silence, he expected a yes. Might???
She was hurt badly, a couple of times, there are a couple of healed fractures, a current broken rib, and well, signs that she was raped. Whoever has been doing this to her has been doing it for a while. She needs a safe place to be, and a therapist for the guilt.
It is most definitely not her fault, Wesley cut in.
I am not implying that it is, the doctor defended himself. She however believes it to be. She has apologized to me, my nurses, the lab techs, everyone, for bothering them. She has internalized this, so although she may not be in any physical danger at the moment, she is in a position to put herself in it again.
Can we see her Angel asked?
She's in room 12, we're releasing her in about an hour, I can buy you another hour or two at the most, but after that, she is free to go, she is an adult and I can't keep her here against her will.
Angel nodded, she won't be putting herself in any more danger. He walked past the doctor to see his friend, Wesley stayed behind. He wanted to be there but Angel and Cordelia had a special bond that needed to be strengthened again, before anything else could be done.
Cordelia saw him walk in, and reminded herself, just agree with him and get him out of here, then you can leave.
She tried a smile, it didn't reach her eyes.
Angel sat next to her and took the hand that was not wrapped in a bandage. Hey, he said.
Hi, she replied.
You and I, um, I'm sorry he said.
She looked at him, what was he apologizing for? No Angel, this is my fault, I lied to you, I let you think it was a demon, I am sorry, about all of it. Look, the doctor said he could release me soon, and then I can go, get out of your way, let you get back to fighting the good fight, right? She smiled at him and hoped he would make it this easy.
His hand tightened around hers. She really did believe this to be her fault. The rage he usually reserved for vampires who preyed on the weak and unsuspecting boiled up in him towards Greg. He tried not to show it, anger would only scare Cordelia more.
Angel, Cordelia said, in a small voice, can we just not talk about this anymore.
He looked at her, stared into her eyes, she averted his gaze.
Cordelia, we have to talk about this. He hurt you. It is not your fault, It's okay, you'll be safe, you can stay with me.
I can't she replied. I have to go home to him.
He stared at her, dumbstruck.
She began again, quickly before he could interrupt with more promises of safety that she couldn't accept. I left him for a day or two, stayed at the shelter. In a softer tone, I've done it before. It gives me a chance to recoup, gives him a little time to calm down, and then I go home, and we work things out. It won't happen again Angel, he was just mad, mad about my telling him what to do about his business, mad about... well, a lot of things, but this was the worst Angel, it isn't usually like this, and I think he's gonna realize it, even when I was leaving he promised to get some help. He's probably already seeing someone about this.
Angel didn't know if she believed what she had just told him, but he knew he didn't. He had seen it once or twice before in those who had come to him, and maybe the men were capable of getting help, of being in good relationships with women they didn't want to hurt, but he had never seen it. He would not let her go back.
Cordelia, he raped you. The words were out of his mouth before he could think, and the moment they were said he wanted to take them back. This line of talk would only scare her more.
She took in a sharp breath which caused her no small amount of pain. How do you, what did, um, no, no he didn't.
The doctor told me, he told me a lot of things. This isn't new behavior for him, and this kind of pain, it isn't new for you. Cordelia, you deserve so much more, please, don't go back to this to him.
Cordelia laughed. Deserved more? That was funny. Angel, this is my fault. I know what makes him angry, I knew that when I told him what to do he would be angry, I knew when I told him about...other things he would be angry, I knew, and I did it anyway, this is my fault.
I can't say this enough, Cordelia, this is not your fault, no matter what he had no right to hurt you. It doesn't matter what you told him, and by the way, you are right, getting involved with Wolfram and Hart is too dangerous to just sit by and watch it happen, but Cordelia, this is not you, it is him. He is the one doing the hitting, I'm willing to lay odds that he is not suffering from a myriad of broken bones and bruises. You didn't hit him, this is not, your fault.
Cordelia wanted to believe him, it would be so nice to just go back to her old life, when the life threatening demons were clearly bad, and she didn't love and need them, but she had chosen her lot. She had walked out on her friends and threw her gift by the side of the road, the parting gift Doyle had given her. She had made the choice. She could not go back, in a few days Angel would find something far more evil to fight and she would return to her status as memory.
Angel, I am sorry about everything, but really, I am okay, or I will be, I just need to sleep in my own bed and maybe have a drink or two, talk to my husband, maybe see a counselor with him, work through some stuff, and then it will all be okay.
Wesley walked into the room then. He looked as if he had been crying but at the moment his face was set in the manner he saved for disobeying slayers and the repair man who charged him too much for the last job. Cordelia, stop asking to leave. You are not leaving.
Yes, she is Angel said. If she wants to go home, we can't stop her. Wesley's jaw dropped. Cordelia felt a sense of relief mixed with sharp disappointment, one more man promising safety and comfort and then forgetting about it. She eased herself off the bed
Now if you gentlemen will give me a moments privacy, I would like to get dressed.
They both walked out of the room.
Wesley started, Angel, we cannot...
Angel cut him off, we're not. I have no intention of leaving her alone with him, but fighting her constantly to keep her in my place like a prisoner, that's not going to work either.
You have a plan, Wesley said.
I have a plan, Angel repeated.
Cordelia met them at the doorway, her bag in hand, could, god I hate asking this, um, could I borrow cab fare, I forgot to bring my wallet with me.
I'll drive you Angel said.
Cut to a large house somewhere in the Hollywood hills.
Angel, Cordelia and Wesley are all sitting in Angel's car, it was just after sunset when they left the hospital. A silent hour's car ride later they had arrived and Cordelia and Greg's home. It was lavish, with a gated driveway, none of them said a word.
Cordelia broke the silence. Thank you, I'm sorry, for everything, goodbye, and with that she took her bag and rang the bell on the front door.
They sat in the car and watched as Greg greeted her at the door, he didn't look happy to see her. Greg looked past her and stared at Angel's car, as it drove away.
So Wesley asked, what is the plan?
I go there, I hit him hard in the face, I take Cordelia back with me.
Wesley looked at him, not a complicated plan, can I help?
Yes, you can make sure that my place is ready for her when she gets back, pick up some clothes, and whatever that white stuff, um yogurt, and whatever else she likes to eat, I want her to feel welcome. Oh, and Wesley, get some more brandy, I think she cleaned us out.
Wesley left to run errands, normally he might feel resentful of such menial tasks being assigned to him, but at the moment, anything that would help rectify this situation seemed important.
Angel waited about an hour. When he heard shouting and something break he rang the bell. Cordelia answered the door, Greg was not far behind. Angel, wha, um, oh, come in.
Angel was relived she had remembered that he needed the invitation. He put on his best drunk brogue and stumbled across the threshold. Cordelia, Cordelia, I need the use of your sofa, it seems, I'm ,oh, what's that word you use, wasted. Of course, she walked next to Angel and supported him on her good side, although she noticed he was not really leaning his weight on her. She settled him on the couch and he seemed to pass out immediately.
Greg grabbed her arm and spun her around, so he sneered, this is your precious Angel, the one so important you wanted me to turn down Wolfram and Hart.
Angel continued his charade as a passed out drunk as he listed carefully.
Cordelia walked past him into a room off of the living room, and shut the door, Greg followed. Angel could hear every word they were saying through the door, he listened intently.
Greg, look, I saw Angel yesterday. I didn't want to tell you because I knew you would respond like this. I guess he just needed a place to crash tonight, but it is not what you think at all.
Not what I think, Greg yelled. How could your little shallow mind possibly begin to imagine what I think? First you almost call off the wedding because your Boss doesn't like me, then, you continue to call him in the middle of the night for the first six months of our marriage, and now, when things need a little work, you go running to him, explain to me Cordelia how it could be something other than you screwing your old flame huh?
Cordelia knew that this was the crux of the matter. The whole argument, the arguments had always been about Angel. She could not tell Greg what he was, or what he meant to her, and so Greg imagined something else, something more ordinary but also more infuriating. She understood his anger. She loved Greg and was so hurt last year when she found out he had slept with someone else after one of their fights but she knew that that too was somehow her fault, that the fighting and the constant coldness between them had led them to it.
Cordelia knew that Greg assumed that she had once loved Angel, and now he was sitting her accusing her of still loving him, She knew she should be quite, let him rant, but she couldn't stand that he might be as hurt as she had been. She tried to reassure him.
Greg, I never, Angel and I never, I mean he was a friend, but that is all, it is not what you think.
Greg exploded, he grabbed a small paperweight off of the desk and threw it at the door, he came menacingly closer to her and she cowered. His arm went up and she steeled herself for the coming blow, trying to protect her bad arm and rib.
The blow never came, when she looked up Angel had Greg pinned against the desk, Greg's back bent Angel's hands on his throat.
I will tell this to you once. She is leaving with me, you do not touch her, come near her, or think about her again, or I will snap your neck, after I let you experience the kind of pain you have put her in, do you understand me?
Greg said nothing, he could say nothing with the diminished air supply Angels hand allowed.
Cordelia, Angel Said over his shoulder, there is a cab outside, get in.
Cordelia did not think about it this time, she just went.
Angel let go of Greg once he was sure that Cordelia was safely out of the house, and followed her into the cab. He gave the driver his address, and held Cordelia as she leaned against his chest and began to cry.
She was not okay, but she would be, he would see to that personally.
The end of part one.
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