Title: The Quiet Things That No One Ever Knows
Author: Chrissy
Email:
Rating: PG
Summary: A sad exchange between best friends
Spoilers: I set this in S3 but at no specific time.
Disclaimer: The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss
Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.
Distribution: Anywhere, just tell me
Feedback: I'd love it. Pretty please?

Short, bitter and depressing

Usually my sheets were as soft as silk in Cordelia's opinion but as she lay on my bed she looked in pain, as if the sheets were lined with thorns. Tears running down her cheek, beginning me to wipe them away, and her eyes burning with ache she looked like a lost child who couldn't find her parents. Only it was so much more than that and my mind couldn't bear to come up with more models.

Every time her brown, tender eyes looked up at me, whether in a glance or in a long moment of unspoken words drowning in silence, my heart ached and edged further to the edge of shattering into a thousand pieces. I could see all the victims and victimizers, the blood and torment, the scorching heat and numbing cold. But none of those things mattered when it came to what they were doing to Cordelia. My Cordelia.

"You okay?" Strike one for me at asking such a stupid question. But at least it got a reaction from Cordelia, even if it just made my sympathy for her greaten. I hated feeling sorry for her, I hated feeling like she was helpless and needed, not wanted, every last bit of help that I could offer her. She was stronger than those things. And even if she wasn't she was too damn stubborn to accept any of the offers in the first place.

"Why ask me? I'll be fine in a while then another one'll hit." She sounded so bitter, like she was about to give up. Another thing I didn't want to hear from her. If she was to ever give up, which was impossible to even think about, it would only happen if she was under a spell. Not even a knife to her throat would get her to sound like she was now. Or maybe my admiration of her blinds me from what is in front of me. Either way, I'd rather be in denial than admit that Cordelia was getting weaker.

Cordelia bit her bottom lip and her eyes welled up again, an expectant look in them. I guess I was supposed to catch onto something in the way she was looking at me, the way she spoke. But I didn't so I let it pass, keeping on that naïve façade to protect myself from the pain. There was obviously nothing I could do to prevent her pain, so it was all coming back to me. Selfish or not, it was all I could really do, my numb fingers too heavy to lift and stroke her pale, sweaty and cold cheek.

"It's getting worse," she breathed, closing her eyes. I hoped she was imagining a better place, a haven where pain was nonexistent and she was on cloud nine. What I hope never always comes to be, and I knew when she winced, her face scrunching up for a split second, that she was attempting to bury the torment, the bloody images. Even all the strength she contained wasn't enough for that task.

Leaning forward, my elbows resting on my knees, I lowered my voice and prepared to speak in a firm voice. But when the words came out, I sounded weak, my voice breaking painfully. "It'll get better. I'll make it better."

Her small laugh was supple and quiet making me for a moment forget where we were. In that moment that seemed to last an eternity I was with Cordelia on the beach bathing in the sun and smiling bigger than I'd ever smiled in my long life. Kids were laughing and playing, building a sand castle in the distance, and the waves were crashing onto the sand and edging close to our bare feet before retreating back into the ocean. The most notable detail, the one that melted the icy tenderness in my heart, was Cordelia's hand on mine, warm and loving.

Then it all fell apart when I heart a soft whimper escape Cordelia's lips. Those pink, perfect lips were chapped and pale when I looked at them. The visions did more than damage her...they broke her. And I was starting to consider the possibility that Cordelia couldn't be fixed this time.

"Sometimes...sometimes things just aren't meant to be better..." she croaked, lifting her fingers and reaching out for my hand. I took hers immediately and squeezed it. I wasn't ever going to let go.

"But this is...this will get better." The desperation in my voice is palpable and Cordelia shakes her head as much as she can manage in response. She knows me more than anyone just as I do her and I should have expected her to respond this way. Stubborn as hell, the two of us tried to ignore our own pain to focus on others'. That's exactly what led to this moment.

Except it's my own fault. I should have focused more on Cordelia, more on how different she was acting, on the pain she was so obviously hiding.

A tear streaked down my face and I didn't bother to wipe it away. In a moment of surprising beauty, Cordelia smiled. It was all bittersweet but it was enough to bring hope that maybe what I thought was coming wasn't. She was smiling at how much I cared, how much pain I was putting myself through to try and hold on.

I didn't have the strength to smile at how strong and courageous she was being. Whenever it happened, whether between her close to giving up to now, accepting whatever fate was headed her way, I didn't care. She was smiling and the world melted away.

"You know I love you right?" I ask her distraughtly, my eyes swelling when I finally registered what she was trying to convey. She was trying to say goodbye.

This made her laugh, more in surprise. She knew that I loved her but the way I said it, the way I'd meant to say it, proved that it was more than just being best friends. This wasn't the time for it but she had to know. She just had to.

"I love you too, big guy." Cordelia never looked away as she swallowed, pain painted across her face at the action. "I hope you never forget that. Never forget alright?"

This was when my throat swelled up and I couldn't let go. Even as I felt her hand growing heavy, could see her eyelids growing heavy and the light slowly dimming in her eyes, I just couldn't let go. "No...don't. This...no. You're supposed to see..." I had no idea why it was so hard for me to breath when I didn't need to. But panic rose and my grip on her hand tightened. "You're supposed to be with me till the end."

She didn't answer me as I continued to plead. "Don't..."

She didn't respond to the weak call of her name. "

I looked down at my hand squeezing hers. Her hands, weak and worn, weren't holding mine anymore, hanging limply and lifeless.

She was gone.

THE END