Title: Immorally Impregnated
Summary: What if Gunn/Wes/Fred had disposed of the henchmen and the bad guy before they even reached Angel and Cordy? What if Cordy and Angel actually....you know....you know!
Breathing in slow, shuddering intakes, Cordelia Chase sat in the uncomfortable position; waiting for the life-altering answer to the disconcerting question that floated in her mind.
The bathroom on the bottom floor more often than not seemed so exclusively large and spacious; but as she sat there, her feet and legs swelling from pain, she felt confined and without help.
As if paying for a crime by spending perpetuity in solitary incarceration.
Noiselessly, she started to tap her feet and rock back and forth to keep herself diligent.
The fresh recollection of that evening in the ballet dauntingly crept into her mind, frightening her with every second that passed.
Angelus lingered over her, an aggressive grin and a malevolent flicker in his dark, obstinate eyes. His hands wandered across her physique, as if examining and memorizing every aspect of her skin and flesh. One rough, large hand pushed her dress closer and closer to her waist, bunching it there as his other hand easily pinned her struggling frame beneath him.
Feeling his erection pressed against her thigh, Cordelia struggled desperately to get free. Her small tussle earned her a fistful of pain. She winced as her arms swelled and her lip bloated from the impact.
"Stop it," she begged, tears forming in her eyes. Those tears were not from the enormous physical pain she was enduring, but from the emotional turmoil at the sight of those familiar dark eyes looking down upon her; filled with hunger, lust and dangerous obsession.
"I've been waiting for this for so long," he growled into her ear before devouring her neck with his teeth. Cordelia squealed at the pain of him sucking the blood out of her; the emptiness that filled her very being was enough to kill her. "You brought me back, Cordelia."
Fred banging him upside the head with a broken chair-arm cut Angelus' enjoyment short. Though her bravery was well respected, Cordelia regretted her being so rash, for Angelus pounced on her, slamming his fists into every body part he could manage.
But Gunn and Wesley, armed with swords and stray pieces of wood, overcame his power. Wesley took the opportunity to kick an arbitrary table between them to even the odds and give them time; while Gunn lunged several wood pieces at Angelus, hoping it would throw him off.
Fred dragged her limp body over to Cordelia, looking desperate and frightened. "Oh god, Cordy." She brushed Cordelia's hair out of her eyes and attempted to rip a part of her dress off to tend to her wounds. But when the fabric wouldn't rip, she broke down in tears as the reality of the situation hit her hard.
Her vision blurry now, Cordelia just shut her eyes; silently hoping the pain would fade away into the darkness where her dearest friend lay.
If that beam hadn't fallen on him, who knows what else he would've done. Cordelia reminded herself silently. Without Wesley's suggestion to call Willow to restore his soul, Angelus would have likely killed more innocent lives if he had woken up before the redhead arrived.
Cordelia violently shut her eyes and prayed to god that the answer she so desired would show up on the stick she now held in her hand.
Tracing the bruises along her arm and the shiner on her face, Cordelia winced; more so at the memory of the beating than the actual pain. Pointedly avoiding the two sore bite marks on her neck, Cordelia looked down.
Oh god.
Her life now flashing before her eyes, the woman fainted.
"How long do you think he's going to be staying up there?" Gunn gruffly asked, looking up from his Game boy. "Not that I have a problem with him staying up there. I also wouldn't have a problem staking his ass."
The lobby was dark and damp; a leak in the ceiling had forced them to place several buckets until it was fixed. The unusual and rare storm outside stirred and the wind howled. Several lights dysfunctional at the moment, the entrance hall took on a dismal aura.
"It's been over a month," Wesley pointed out, rubbing his eyes profusely as a headache overcame him. "He didn't do any permanent damage."
Fred, more quiet than anyone else, surprisingly stood up to Wesley and said with a disgusted tone. "How dare you say that?" She didn't nod to acknowledge to the bruises all along her legs and the slash across her back; nor did she even touch them. It was obvious she was referring to Cordelia, who was still locked in the bathroom.
"I know it wasn't Angel, and even though what he did was bad, I still know that he shouldn't be blamed. But Cordelia hasn't spoken one word since that night." The girl showed new heights of strength as she fought the urge to break down into tears and show all the emotion that was bottled up inside of her.
"Every time she gets a vision, she writes it down," Lorne finished for her, squeezing her hand. "And for Cordelia, not talking is a big lifestyle change."
Gunn shook his head, throwing his Game boy across the room in anger. "I've had enough. He can't hide up in his room and avoid the backlash that he deserves."
Wesley grabbed Gunn's arm, giving him a look of warning; as if silently promising to hurt him if he dare move any further. "We're avoiding the entire situation more so than either Cordelia and Angel."
Fred pushed Lorne away and walked up to Wesley, her small eyes swelling with tears. "You mean you, Wesley. Because I can't avoid it. Every night, I stir and stir and can't go to sleep, the bruises can't seem to go away. Even after this long. So don't go about tellin' me that I'm avoidin' the situation."
"She's telling the truth," Gunn put in, comforting Fred slightly with a hug. His dark eyes were full of sadness at the sight of the girl he cared for in so much physical and emotional pain. "Both of my girls are in pain, and I aint gonna rest till the man...pire who did this to them is in as much pain as them!"
"What you saw that night wasn't all that Angelus could do," Wesley informed him impassively, brushing the two off and walking behind the counter. "Cordelia knows that too. That isn't why she's hiding."
Lorne shook his head, annoyed by the severity that their lives had taken so drastically, and swallowed the last of his drink; turning away and leaving the lobby.
"Why then, genius?" Gunn growled, as if daring Wesley to keep defending the Vampire that he so loathed.
Wesley placed his head in his hands and leaned on the counter, looking down at his feet in failure. "I don't know..."
Angel shivered as the cold air of the night drifted through the open doors and into the dark, daunting room. He had spent over a month in the bedroom, hardly ever drinking, and hardly ever thinking. At least, hardly ever thinking of anything besides what he did that night at the ballet.
The fear that not only shined clear in Cordelia's eyes, but coursed through her blood was a painful feeling to experience and it had stayed with him ever since. He couldn't control himself that night, overcome by his evil alter ego Angelus. I lost my soul.
Angel breathed in an unneeded breath in an attempt to calm himself. When that attempt failed, he slammed his fist through the nearest wall and growled. He could only imagine the bruises his made on Fred's small, feeble frame when he beat her down. He could only imagine the emotional pain those two girls were going through. He could only imagine Cordelia crying herself to sleep every night at the mere thought of him.
He could only imagine.
Fred woke with a start. Raising her sweaty body, she looked around the room. Once recognizing where she was, the young Texan looked behind her, where Gunn lay sound asleep. The nightmare that had woken her up had been, with no surprise, a mere recollection of the ballet.
How could something that happened so fast impact me so much? She asked herself as she wiped the cold sweat from her brow.
Fred made her way out of the room and downstairs, hoping for a nice cup of warm milk to help her sleep.
When her feet were planted firmly on the cold floor of the lobby, a small, hardly describable sound came from off in the distance. Curious, Fred stalked down the hallway where the sound was coming from. As she furthered herself down the hall, she finally recognized where the now distinguishable sobbing was coming from: the bathroom.
Turning the knob, the young woman peeked her head inside, only to lose her breath as she saw Cordelia huddled in the corner crying. "Cordy?" she whispered, closing the door behind her and walking over to the woman.
Cordelia's head shot up to look at her, her russet, swollen eyes locked with Fred's. "It's all too much."
Fred's brow furrowed in confusion as she pulled Cordelia into a hug, squeezing her tight as she joined her in crying. The two shared a few moments of pain.
Her hand was closed around an object and holding it tightly; so tightly that her hand was turning purple. "It's impossible."
The stick fell freely from her hand, landing on the rug of the bathroom, as if perfectly placing itself for display.
The stick read positive for pregnancy.