Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me apart from the idea which belongs solely to my imagination which I thank god for every day.
Summary: What causes Passion? and can the soul survive without it?
Authors Note: I wrote this a while ago and have only got back into the 'Cordelia mind' that i had in mind when writing this originally. Right now I'm done.
To Passion Or Fret?
A wise man once said to me that passion is what makes the soul and without passion the soul cannot exist. Naturally the wise man was a Preacher and I was hungover at his sermon. Yet his words still ring clear to me as I sit in my darkened corner and think of my impending Shansu.
Passion can mean many things to me as the poet or as the artist that Cordelia insists that I could be. Passion comes from deep within the soul, a feeling so uncontrollable no one has mastered it's rein. Poets have marvelled at it's intensity and many have wondered at what the true peaks of passion maybe. Writers have described in many wonderful ways in the past century but now it is used in Jackie someone's novels and made to be dirty and impure. I can remember Spike describing passion in his 'bloody' awful poems but he couldn't write about passion only write with passion.
What about when they are all gone? What will sustain me then? I will lose all my family bit by bit and there is nothing I can do about it. I am the immortal and they are simpky mortal, vulnerable to death and disease. The Oracles have allowed me to see what their future beholds and it scares me. Gunn will die first in a street battle, defending those who have became his family when his real one died. I can do nothing to save him because he is too stubborn to accept my help. Gunn has taught me the passion of being selfless and helping other mortals. He has passion. Passion for his people, to defend them till the end. He may seem the carefree but I know that passion courses though every one of his veins. Then Wesley will die too. I cannot stop that either. He will have a heart attack in 20 years time and then he wil be gone as well. He has taught me passion as well. Taught me that nothing anybody does to me or says to me will ever get me down. Will never stop me in my quest. Wesley has come from the weak and pathetic Watcher in Sunnydale who would go running at the site of a Vampire gang to being my best comraid in arms. He is always by my side, fighting with such passion that he will never give up until on of the demons kills him. Even then he will die a hero. Last to go is Cordelia. The shining diamond in my eye. She had given me the most and taught me the most. She has given me so much of her life that I can only sit by and watch as the Cancer slowly eats away at her body. Even when she is dying, she is strong. She will think that she is dying of natural causes but I know that it is the visions that have eventually killed her. She had them because of me. She has shown me the complete meaning of passion. Everything thing she does is with passion. She files her nails with such passion. She drags me out of my 'brooding' and makes me go and see a movie that she knows I will hate. I've never been Ice-skating until Cordelia decided she was bored and we went to an outdoor rink. I have two left feet and she had to drag me around the rink until I was so tired that I collapesed at the side of the rink and insisted she skated by herself. I have never seen some one skate so gracefully before. She was skating on air. The stars in the sky could have been her rink because that is where she belonged. In the stars with the true angels….
….But who am I to talk of Passion? I am inhabitited by a demon who knows nothing of true passion. The alter side of my ego Angelus, Angel, is scared of passion. For me passion is a big NO. Passion brings happiness and happiness means the release of Angelus. To me that is a Fate worse than the stake. Angelus would destroy everything that I have, out of true spite. He would kill Gunn, torture Wesley until he begged for death to claim him. I don't even want to imagine what he would do to Cordelia.
Cordelia PoV
He's sitting by the window again. Sometimes i get scared that, come dawn, he will forget to walk away. He's become broody again, just as he became humanised, well as humanised as a Vampire with a soul gets. He gets this call from the Oracles and now he's all broody. I think he has been storing up. Buffy died a years ago and he didn't go off the deep end like we expected to. Instead we went to the funeral, all still reeling from my demons' betrayal, Angelus and the fact Conner is gone and we doubt he is coming back. Angel just stared into the grave, knowing that she wasn't coming back this time either. I think he's scared! Scared because everyone is leaving him. He hung onto my hand so tightly, the day we buried Buffy, that his knuckles strained at his skin. He panics when Gunn goes into battle or when i get visions. He's even started to worry when Wes gets heartburn. Angel's even insisted that we all move into the hotel. Wesley readily agreed to save on rent he paid for his old apartment. Gunn was quite happy, i think he was just looking for a place to belong. I, however, didn't want to leave my rent-controlled, ghostly apartment. Sometimes a girl just needs some space from her possessive man-pire. We're close. There's chemistry, i mean look at the man, Angel is a walking hunk of salty goodness. But he's eternally Buffy's, even more so now she's finally decided to stay dead. That sounded bitchy didn't it. If it wasn't for his redemption and the fact i am stuck with these visions, i know he would have taken off for Sunnyhell a long time ago. We've shown him time and time again that we can cope without him. Sure Wes was shot but that was a bad day.
My feelings for my socially-defunked warrior very rarely show but tonight he scared me. He came home 10 minutes before the sun was due to rise. There i was waiting at the door, holding it open so he could just run in, and run in he did. He stood there, wavering for about 10 seconds before finally collapsing to the floor. I could see the stake sticking out from his chest, millimetres from his heart. His eyes were closed and he breathed in and out rapidly. Angel doesn't need to breathe, Vampires are dead, but since Doyle died, he's been getting back into the habit. He had his hand on the stake as if to pull it out so I quickly swatted his hand away. I straddled his waist, hey I know, every girls dream, but at that moment I was living on adrenaline. Blood was creeping around the edge of the wound. Geeze, this is the only man that could ever get me so scared and so high at the same time. Here I was straddling the Vampire of my dreams and all I could think about was pulling an icky, blood covered stake from his chest. 1inch to the left or right and my best friend would have been dust. So I closed my eyes and prayed. I prayed to a God I didn't believe in and a God who had forsaken the very Vampire I was trying to save. Ha Ha (!). How I found the strength to pull that thing out of him I don't know but all I know is that he was still there when I opened my eyes again. He opened his eyes too and half smiled. That was all I needed to start blubbing like a baby. All of a sudden I realised my best friend isn't as immortal as I thought. The stake, the sun or a sword to the head was all it took. I understand why he stares out of the window. He's scared of losing us and ending up back on his own. He's just as scared as I am of losing him and my purpose in life…Him.