And feelings, once as strong as passions,
Float softly back­-a faded dream;
Our own sharp griefs and wild sensations,
The tale of others' sufferings seem.

---

It wasn't worry that steered him back to Wolfram and Hart when Angel failed to show up at the bar.

Far from it, in fact. Maybe a little for the cheerleader--she had balls, and he liked that. But the idea of Angel finding trouble while his mates celebrated? They'd been through enough that night. They'd been through enough period. Angel wasn't allowed to die until the next apocalypse; a week, at least.

Spike had slid away from the group's table at the Cat and Fiddle, mumbling an excuse about cigarettes and healing injuries, but they either hadn't heard him, or hadn't cared.

Wolfram and Hart was as empty and hollow-sounding as ever, and a hush had settled in that made Spike uneasy. He hated this place at night; even as a ghost, he'd preferred to wait until Angel had fallen asleep, and hung out in the almost-cosy loft.

He was heading for that loft for the first time in months when a sound from Angel's office made him pause. For a moment, he considered moving on. This wasn't a place to go investigating noises in. But his curiosity got the best of him, and he was pushing the office door open before he could remind himself that his curisity was an evil, evil thing that hated him.

The night was cloudy; the moonlight streaming in through the window blinds cast shadows that were hazy and nearly grey, but Spike saw him just fine. He was sitting on the couch, alone, his head in his hands. He didn't appear to have heard Spike's arrival, but just as Spike was figuring out a way of drawing attention to himself without looking like he cared, Angel's head snapped up.

His eyes were wet and red.

"Angel?"

Spike wanted to step forward, demand what had happened. He was no stranger to pain. He'd caused a lot of it feeling not nearly enough. And the pain on Angel's face, he'd seen it before--watched it, inflicted it--but never on Angel.

"She's gone," Angel whispered as if it explained everything, "She was never here, she--" he swallowed hard.

Spike understood the words, but they weren't connecting, and it must have shown on his face. Angel sighed.

"Cordelia's gone," he continued, "She died an hour ago."

Spike frowned, "That's impossible. An hour ago, she was here with us."

"She was never here. The powers, they gave her some time, and it ran out. She's gone."

Things began to click together--bits of information, subtle innuendos--and Spike knew. Angel had loved this girl.

Spike crossed the room slowly, as if approaching a wild animal. He sat on the couch beside Angel, and they were quiet for a long while before either of them said anything.

"I'm sorry."

The spell of the silence was broken, and Angel looked over at him, morose.

"Are you?" he asked, no anger or accusation. Spike shrugged.

"Well, yeah. She was...alright."

Angel nodded, and nearly smiled, "Yeah."

"You should go tell them."

"I know." The almost-smile disappeared, and Angel sighed.

Spike stood. "Well, let's go then. No use delaying it; it'll just make them feel crappier."

He turned on his heel and began to walk out, but a hand grabbed his elbow, stopping him and spinning him around. Spike began to protest, but Angel pressed their lips together softly, briefly, and Spike was stunned quiet.

"Stay here," Angel whispered, his hands gripping Spike's arms nearly too tight.

"You have to tell them," Spike said, glaring, "You can't--"

"No," Angel cut him off, "Whatever you're doing tomorrow, wherever you were thinking of going, don't. This will devastate them. Please, just stay."

"And do what? This place already has one souled vampire too many."

"I'll find something." Angel let him go and took a deep breath, "Time to go. You coming?"

He didn't wait for an answer before sweeping out of the office. Spike followed.

"And the kiss?"

Angel looked back at him, a smirk on his face that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"How else was I gonna shut you up long enough to get a word in?"

It was a glaring lie, but Spike accepted it anyway, and together, they left.