The Key
By Jody E.
These Characters do not belong to me, but to Mutant Enemy and Joss Whedon. I merely toy with them for my own amusement.
This fic contains spoilers for BTVS and AtS through the end of the season.
Cordelia swiftly walked the five blocks between her apartment and the Hyperian Hotel. After two weeks of R&R, she was eager to get back to her friends, catch up on the latest gossip, and get back to work. She wondered how Angel Investigations had fared without her. She hadn't had any emergency phone calls from the gang, and not even one vision had marred her vacation. Apparently, The Powers That Be had decided, along with Angel, that she had earned a little rest.
But now she was ready to get back into the fray. And eager to see Angel and the rest of her friends again, especially baby Connor. She had bought him the cutest inflatable wading pool. They could put it in the courtyard when he was a little older. She wondered if he had missed his Aunt Cordy. Or if anybody else had missed her. There had not been one single call on the cell phone she had brought along just in case. She had an eerie thought as she reached the large ornate doors, that her friends had all disappeared, and that the hotel would be empty and abandoned. This feeling increased when she pulled on the door handle and found it locked at 11 AM on a Tuesday morning. The fear was immediately replaced by annoyance. Whose job was it to open up in her absence? Cordelia dug her keys out of her pocket, unlocked the door, and strode into the lobby, ready to have it out with whoever was neglecting their business. She looked around the empty lobby in amazement. The room looked as though a mild earthquake had hit; though Cordelia hadn't heard anything about it on the news. New cracks marred the walls. The floor was stained and dirty and the weapons case was a mess of smashed glass and broken hinges. No one was at the reception desk or in the office. She walked over to the telephone. The blinking number 18 on the answering machine indicated that nobody had been manning the phones either. Connor's bassinet stood in the middle of the floor, empty except for a few stuffed animals. Where was everybody? She walked into Wesley's office. There was no usual array of papers and books. Everything had been closed up and neatly arranged, with not so much as a stray scrap of paper or half empty coffee cup left behind. Wesley was usually organized, but not all that neat. His desk looked strange and unnatural this way. Maybe he had taken a few days off. Maybe they were all taking a long weekend, though such a thing had never happened before in Cordelia's recollection.
However, Angel, Connor, Fred and Lorne lived here in the hotel. Fred and Lorne might be out, maybe with the baby, but it was daytime, so Angel was surely home, though probably asleep. Should she disturb him? Hell, how often did she come back from vacation?
"Angel!" she called out, her voice echoing in the empty lobby. "ANGEL!"
The spooky feeling she had felt earlier came back. In the last six years, Cordelia had learned to expect just about anything, so the notion that her friends had somehow magically disappeared was not farfetched in the slightest. It was with great relief that she heard footsteps echoing in the mezzanine hallway, though it was not Angel who came clattering down the stairs, but Lorne. He appeared haggard and unkempt, the way he had looked when his beloved club had first been destroyed.
"Cordy! Babycakes! Am I glad to see you!" he cried as he came down the stairs and swept Cordy up into a big hug. "Everything has gone to Hell without you, and I mean that literally!"
"Where is everybody?" Cordy asked, "And what happened to your face? Was it the earthquake?" Lorne's green face was marred with a large bandage on his forehead and his eyes were swollen and redder than usual, as though he had been crying.
"I only wish! Oh Honey, it is the worst thing you could imagine."
"Angel's gone evil again? Oh my God!"
"Not that, but close."
"Connor! Something's happened to Connor?"
"He's gone, Sweetie pie." At this, Lorne burst into tears.
"Gone? How gone? Did someone take him? Was it Holtz, the vampire cults, Wolfram and Hart?" The list of Connor's potential enemies was too long to remember. "Is he…he's not..."
"D-dead?" whispered the host wiping his eyes with a soggy handkerchief from his breast pocket. "We don't know."
"My God! Angel! He must be frantic. Is he out looking for him? Is that where everybody is?"
"Nobody's looking for him. He is beyond finding."
"Meaning…"
"Well, " Lorne sniffled, "I wasn't there when it happened, but apparently Holtz grabbed him and leapt into a dimensional portal. Not Pylea, unfortunately. My poor baby.." wailed Lorne, beginning to sob anew.
A dimensional portal! No wonder Angel Investigations had ground to a halt. But where was everybody? Why weren't Wesley and Angel investigating? When she had disappeared, the Angel crew had followed soon after. Surely something could be done.
"When did this happen? How come nobody called me? And where the hell is everybody?" it was easier to lash out than think about Connor alone and helpless God knows where with that bastard Holtz.
"It only happened last night. Angel hasn't been...in any shape to call anybody. Wesley…uh, Wesley is in the hospital...in intensive care. Gunn and Fred are there with him right now."
"Oh Poor Wes! Was he injured in the battle over Connor? Is everybody else all right?"
Lorne looked away. "Gunn and Fred are fine, but Angel is in terrible shape, as you can imagine. He's been holed up in his room since it happened."
"I'd better go up and see him." Cordy made for the staircase.
"Wait!" Lorne called stopping her in her tracks. "Perhaps you can bring him some blood. And get him to drink it. He won't even look at the stuff...says he never wants to drink it again. And for poor Johnny One-note that really isn't an option."
Cordy waited while Lorne rushed into the kitchen and came out with a container of blood. He handed it to her, "Assure him that it's from a different butcher. Maybe he'll believe you."
Cordelia was puzzled but took the container and went upstairs towards Angel's room. As she hit the top step Lorne called out, "Oh…and he's not in his old room. He's in suite 220."
Up here, the earthquake damage was worse. No wonder Angel had moved out. It looked as though his room had caught fire. Cordy peeked in…it was totally destroyed. A miracle it hadn't spread to the entire hotel. Outside the new suite, Cordy hesitated. What could she possibly say to Angel to console him on the loss of his beloved son? Steeling herself, she knocked.
After a long moment she heard a muffled, "Go away."
"Angel, it's me, Cordy. I'm back."
Silence.
"Please let me in."
She heard shuffling footsteps coming towards the door, and fumbling of the old fashioned lock, and the door opened in her face. Angel stood there looking as though he had aged a hundred years in the two weeks since she had seen him. His hair stuck out in all directions, his face was unshaven and his eyes were haunted, but dry. It was also apparent by the way he swayed in the doorway, and reeked of whiskey, that he was very drunk. He stood and stared at Cordelia as though she were a stranger.
"Angel. It's me, Cordelia. Can I come in?"
He stood back and let her enter. Cordy walked in and looked around. The room, similar in color and decor to his old room, looked as though it had never been lived in. The bed was unmussed. Cordy surmised that he had spent the night in the brocade armchair, judging by the empty whiskey bottle, and half-full one lying at its base. On the arm rest, looking oddly perky and out of place, was a pale blue teddy bear, one of Cordelia's gifts to Connor and apparently Angel's only companion last night.
Angel continued to stare at her dumbly. Cordelia felt her heart breaking. She had never seen him like this...so broken. She put the container of blood down on the table, went over to Angel, gripped his arms, and looked into his eyes, willing him to focus.
"Angel. Look at me. I'm back. Why didn't you call me? Maybe I could have helped."
Angel hesitated and then replied thickly, "I-I didn't wanna bother you, and…uh, on your…trip." He managed.
"Bother me? I would have come back in a minute. You know that!"
Angel looked at her, "Did…" he seemed to struggle with the concept. "Did you have a vision?"
"No. Nothing. I had no clue that anything bad was happening here. I don't understand."
"Thas..."Angel seemed to recover a bit of sobriety, "That's what I was afraid of." He pulled away from Cordelia and walked over to his chair where he sank down wearily, knocking the bear unheeded onto the floor. He looked up, stricken. "I think that The Powers didn't warn you because this was…supposed to happen." He looked down at his feet. "I had thought that Connor was a gift. A crazy, miraculous gift, one that I knew I didn't deserve. But I guess…he was just part of my punishment." He buried his face in his hands.
Cordelia was horrified. She went over to Angel and knelt down in front of him and pulled his hands down so that she could look in his eyes. "Angel! No! No way was that precious baby any kind of a punishment! He was a gift! And you just can't give up on him like this! I don't know why the Powers didn't warn me. Maybe I couldn't have stopped it. Who knows? But we've dealt with dimensional portals before. Between Wesley and…"
Angel's hands came up and gripped Cordelia's shoulders painfully cutting off her next words. "Wesley!" He rasped.
"What…what about Wesley? How badly is he hurt? Oh God, Lorne did say intensive care…it just didn't register. Tell me."
"Wesley, "Angel spat out the words in a voice full of hate, "was the one who kidnapped Connor and turned him over to Holtz and his gang. They rewarded him by slitting his throat!"
Cordelia was stunned. This just didn't make sense. Wesley, a traitor? No. Uh huh. Sorry. This does not compute.
"Angel. No. That's not true. It couldn't be. Wesley is the most loyal person I know. He would never betray you or do anything to harm Connor. There must be some kind of misunderstanding. Has anyone talked to him?"
Angel shook his head. "It's true, Cordy. Ask Lorne. He'll tell you. He tried to stop Wesley and got his face bashed in!"
"But why? What possible reason…"
"I sent Gunn over to the hospital to question him. I didn't trust myself."
Cordelia got up and went over to the table. "Then I guess we'll find out soon enough. But meanwhile, Angel, you have got to pull yourself together." She picked up the container of blood; "Lorne told me that this came from a different butcher. You have got to keep up your strength."
Angel picked up the half full bottle of whiskey. "I've given up blood. Decided to go with whiskey from now on. Much less…complicated." He twisted off the cap and took a drink. "Only trouble is vampires just don't stay drunk long enough. Damned recuperative powers. It's just not fair. But then again, unlife sucks no matter which way you look at it. From now on I prefer to look at it drunk."
"Oh yeah?" Cordy marched over to Angel, snatched the bottle out of his hand, and quickly emptied it into the sink in the little kitchenette, before he even had time to react. "I don't think so." She brought the container of blood over to Angel and gave it to him, "Drink!" she commanded.
Angel accepted the container meekly and studied it for a moment. Then calmly, he threw the container with all his strength. It hit the opposite wall with a resounding splat, dying it a brilliant scarlet. He looked up at Cordelia and stood up.
"Do you know what our friends at Wolfram and Hart did to me? They spiked my pig's blood with blood they stole from Connor's doctor. Connor's blood. To make me want to hurt him. My own son."
At these words, Angel's eyes welled up finally and he began to cry, silently. Cordy went over to him and did what she had wanted to do since she had walked into the room; she put her arms around him "Oh Angel, I'm so sorry." She said and burst into tears also.
They stood there crying in each other's arms for some minutes. Finally, when it seemed like they had calmed down a bit, Cordy said, "Angel, come downstairs with me. Maybe Gunn and Fred have returned with some news. We can find him, Angel. We will!"
Angel looked up at her with the first glimmer of hope he had felt in many hours. "Do you really think so?"
"Of course!" Cordy replied with a bravado that she didn't feel, "We're champions, remember? That's what we do."
At that word, Angel seemed to recall something. "Oh…is Groo downstairs?"
"Groo? Uh no...I left him back at the apartment. I have him unpacking. He..uh...likes to keep busy. But I'm sure he will be glad to help."
"Great," Angel muttered to himself, as he and Cordelia walked down the stairs. Cordelia shook her head, suddenly realizing something. From the moment she had left her apartment, until Angel had mentioned his name, Cordy had completely forgotten The Grooselug.
