Title: Musings of a Lost Time

Author: Jenna Black

Summary: Humans are complex creatures, depending on each other for survival; not of the body, but of the soul. So what happens when a rift forms, and suddenly these humans are alone? Fred "talking" to Cordelia, through her hard misguided way of dealing A/N: This takes place at the beginning of the most recent season, but it does not include Spike. They never actually give a time frame to his appearance (to my recollection), so I'm going to take the liberty of adding a few months in between their move to Wolfram and Hart and his appearance.

And so...

I went to visit Dennis the other day you know. He misses you Cordelia. He'll never admit it of course, but... in the quiet... you can tell he wishes you were there. It was so silent, eerily so. He refuses to admit that you're gone for good. No one else has moved into your apartment, and he's kept it just as clean as it was the last day you were there. The realtor is baffled of course. Why there's no dust on the TV, no mess on the floor and dishes still drying in the drain - she just ignores it. L.A. is weird enough as it is; I guess it gets easy to ignore things.

But I won't. Not like the others.

They get me so mad sometimes. They never talk about anything. That's why I like talking to Knox. He wasn't there, and he doesn't know, so he'll let me talk. I miss you so much Cordelia. You were the one that brought me out of my Pylea induced shell. You showed me what I needed to know to get by. Everyone else, they never mention you. Every time I start to say anything that may mention you, one of them looks at me and suddenly I start stuttering again. It hurts to not talk. We all have ghosts of the past, but no one else knows I talk to ours.

When we first came to Wolfram and Hart, I was ecstatic; I thought it was such a big win with so many study opportunities. But after a week I realized the downside to everything. One of the laws of science states that "all things in motion will continue in motion". The best I can say for us is that we are moving; it's just away from each other.

Did you know that Gunn's been going back to the hood? I'm sure you do. Just like you know that Angel goes to Ireland on the weekends, Wesley to England, and Lorne to Vegas. Were all just trying to reclaim ourselves again, but in the process just losing ourselves even more.

So where do I go?

I could go to Texas and visit family again, but I know that wouldn't help. My problem is that there is no way for me to reclaim myself because there is no place for me to go. I'm not that Texas girl dreaming of being head physicist of a lab. I'm not the slave getting by in Pylea. And I'm certainly not the girl who always finds a way to save the day.

I wasn't able to save you.

And I don't know how I'm going to save them. Wolfram and Harts plan to drive us apart is working. WE haven't spent a single day together in weeks. And we haven't had to do the dirty work of fighting demons on the street in months. Now, we just fight each other.

Sometimes I wonder if that's not all we were meant to do anyways. I mean, if we were meant to stay together, why would the Powers make it so hard to do so. It's just that, when you left, you took the most important part of the group with you.

The heart.

Do you know that Wesley still blames himself that his magicks failed you? I can see it sometimes, in his eyes. Most of the time he can hide it. But every time a report comes in about a capture that could of been the demon that got you, it comes back. You see a glimmer of hope, excitement that maybe this might be it, and then some characteristic, so small in detail and incredible stupid comes in to prove it wasn't you. The demon we caught has red tipped talons, and the demon that put you in your coma had yellow. Then he excuses himself and disappears for the rest of the day. I don't know where he goes, and it doesn't really matter.

I come here.

The apartment is the only place I can go to remember something that was just yours. There I'm not forced to remember the amnesia here, or the pain, or the death. The only thing I remember here are friends left behind or lost.

We lost you. We failed you. And I know that if I could talk to you it would be all right, no big deal. But I can't talk to you. I can just talk to myself in my mind and pretend it's you.

Pretending.

It's something we do far too often now. Pretend we aren't doing evils job. Pretend we still know every detail about each other. Pretend we're still connected to the world. Pretend we still remember and care.

But we never really do. Because if we did you wouldn't be sitting in a bed somewhere, and I wouldn't be here in this apartment, forcing myself to cal up images I can barely recall. Your hair color. The brightness in your eyes when you were happy. The way you gave the same brightness to Angel.

He's dying inside. Not literally; but still. Everyday that passes with him in that goddamned law firm he loses a little bit more of his spirit. And everyday your gone he gains more burdens.

Sometimes the hardest burden I remembering.

I remember the time we went shopping. You asked me if, I liked Wesley. I said yes and you told me I should go for it. But at the same time you were telling me to go for it you were telling yourself to forget that you felt the same thing for Angel. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if we just faced up to our feelings instead of living in denial; fooling ourselves into loving others.

You can't fight love. I realize that now. I also realize that even if you do stop fighting it, you sometimes lose.

We lost.

Angel buries himself in duty.

Wesley buried himself in Lilah.

And I talk to the voices in my head.

Sometimes I wonder why I think I'm the healthiest ones.

Sometimes I'm scared to find out if I'm not.

I've taken to avoiding Lorne, and he's taken to avoiding the rest of us. He can read us now, even when we're not singing. He can see how bad we really are now. I wonder if when he looks in the mirror he can see how bad he is.

I know I can.

The mirror is the one thing I can't ignore. Not because I've become some vain beauty queen, but because it's the one thing that never lies. The last time we had a meeting together the sun was setting, and it had turned the windows in Angel's office into a mirror.

That's when I realized how apart we really were.

I didn't watch the meeting, I watched the window. I watched 'Mirror Gunn' work his way through court-cases, and 'Mirror Wesley' just watch the floor. Angle had his back to everyone, and I watched Lorne bob his head to some pop song in his head, that had to be more interesting than what was going on.

After the meeting everyone left without saying a word. Each went back to their respective departments to idle away another couple of hours, until it was late enough that we could go home without feeling guilt.

But we always do. It's become the norm.

Feel guilt about not visiting you. Feel guilty about ignoring our hearts. Feel guilty about all the bad things we've had to do since coming here. And worst of all, feel guilty for even being a part of it.

So why don't we change it?

I almost did. One day I had everything packed. All I needed to leave town and never come back in my duffle bag. But I took the wrong route, and ended up having to walk by the Hyperion.

It kept me from leaving.

It reminded me of everything that had happened, and I lost my nerve. I went back to my apartment and cried as I unpacked. It just wasn't fair that I was finally ready to leave and my stupid emotions made me back out.

They won't this time.

Two months later and another bag packed, this time I'm ready. But I still have to take that route. If I avoid it, I'll always be connected to this place, and I can't do that. I won't. Lost in my thoughts I come up to that familiar corner with that big empty hotel just waiting for me.

So much for it not surprising me.

Even so I had to go in. To say goodbye.

The entrance hall is the same as it always was, only covered in a thin layer of dust. I went into the office and noticed a picture left on the floor. In all the rush of moving we must have missed it.

It was of the six of us, out in the garden under the jasmine flowers. We were happy then. It was the night of the ballet, the night everything changed. But the photo was taken before we left. We were happy then.

A tear slips down my cheek as I think of what had happened since then. I force my fingers open and the picture fell to the floor and out of sight. It was still in my mind though. I leave the office and go out to where the picture was taken. It's night, and the jasmine blossoms are open, perfuming the air.

But now it smells horrible. All it does is remind me of broken promises and lost dreams, not the hope it once did. And for that another tear falls.

The scent overpowers me and I can't move until the wind sweeps the smell away.

I ran inside and out of habit go up to my old room. It's silent and the layer of dust is just as thick here as it was downstairs. Sitting on the bed, I feel a lump underneath my hand. I move the blanket away and lying there is Rugsby, my old stuffed animal. My parents had brought him when they came to visit and for some reason I kept him. I hug him close to my chest and hope he stops the tears.

He doesn't.

I cried until I was spent, and was so tired I drifted off to sleep. I woke up hours later, to sunlight streaming through my window. Everything looked different in the daylight, but I know nothings changed.

Unconsciously my eyes wander to the square picture frame hanging on my wall. There's no picture or backing in it. When I was writing on the wall I wrote everywhere, but even so I can still see what used to be there.

A shining knights on a white horse.

Angel.

My rescuer.

But he wasn't. He rescued me from Pylea, but he didn't save me, and he's certainly not on a white horse.

He's on a black wolf, ram, and hart.

At the thought I turn away, and when my mind returns I slowly stand and walk to the door.

When I open it, I look back in the room and all the memories it held. Problems that had been solved. Nights spent with Gunn, and girl talk sessions with you.

I look out the window and realize I don't know the view anymore. This is no longer my room, and I feel like an outsider looking in. I whisper goodbye and close the door.

Too bad I can't close the door to all the pain.

I walk the halls for hours, I don't know how long. Before I know it it's dark again, lost in my memories. I find myself on the staircase. A scream from below sends me running. There is a young girl, maybe 15 being chased by a fledgling vampire. I snapped into my fight mode and soon the vamp is dusted.

She's scared out of her wits and when I move towards her she freaks and blots. I don't chase her because I don't remember anymore.

I have my epiphany anyways. In an instant your voice fills my mind.

"Angel Investigations: We help the helpless."

And then I realized that if I left I was giving up on them, the helpless and hopeless. The revelation floors me.

I went to your apartment for the first and last time since it all happened. Dennis opens the door for me before I even reach it.

He had written HI FRED on a piece of paper, and when I read it I knew I had done the right thing.

I got comfortable on the couch and Dennis brought me a drink. I drink it up, and then we just talk for hours, with Dennis writing in comments when possible. When I get done talking about life, I tell him I have an idea. A way to free him from the apartment. I ask him if he wanted to be free to move around.

He said no.

I couldn't understand it at first. How someone would want to stay in the same place for over fifty years.

I understand now.

Staying there was his way of keeping you alive, just like talking to you is mine. Leaving there would mean losing that, and that's all he has left.

With that the sun was rising and a new day had begun. In my gut I could feel all the evil creatures of the night retreating for the days humanity to take over.

I tell Dennis I would come visit him again in a while, and leave to catch a bus back to the inner parts of the city. I don't know when I'll be back to visit, and I don't think he wants e there that much anyways.

After all, I'm not you.

You never know how much of an effect you have on the world until you leave it.

Does it make you feel good to see what you did for this world?

I hope it does. You're life was hard enough as it was, you should get some happiness in your sleep.

The bus stops, and it pulls me from my reverie. It's my stop, only instead of turning left to get to Wolfram and Hart, I turn right. It's the right I always meant to take but never did.

To the seashore.

The waves are soothing with their rhythm, and soon I find myself casting my troubles to the sea, like the girl in my favorite children's book used to do. I close my eyes and the memory of my Mama reading it comes into my mind.

"Do you remember the end Winnie?"

"Yup"

"Well what happens?"

"They spend the rest of their lives together, happily ever after." My younger self says. eyes smiling.

"That's right. Now get to sleep honey"

"Okay Mommy. I love you."

"I love you too sweetie. Goodnight."

"Night"

The memory brings a smile to my face. I suddenly know that things are going to be all right. The wind blows my hair away from my face, and I start laughing small silent laughs.

"Thank you Cordelia." For giving me this peaceful feeling. I take one last look to the ocean, turn around and begin walking.

After a couple of minutes I can see Wolfram and Hart again, and I know we've got a long way to go to making it right.

But we've got a chance.

And I smile.

finit

Thank you for sticking with me on the beginning of this marvelous journey back to writing. I hope you enjoyed this story. (I was thinking of doing something along these lines with all of the main characters, make it a series. Review and tell me what you think!) Have a happy holiday everyone.