Getting Through

A Story by CoolNick44

Joss Whedon owns Angel and all related characters. I own nothing except an imagination.

This story takes place between seasons two and three.

Chapter 1:

Cordelia, Wesley, and Gunn all sat in the lobby of the Hyperion Hotel, their base of operations and residence of their employer, Angel. It had been one month since Angel had left on a spiritual retreat after receiving the news that his old girlfriend Buffy had died. This proved especially problematic to the rest of the Fang Gang, since Angel left just a day after they had come back from Pylea with a new friend in tow; the lovely Winifred Burkle, called Fred by her friends. She had been a slave in Pylea for five years, without any human contact, and had nearly fallen into complete insanity due to her stay. It was Angel who freed her from her cave and brought her back to our dimension, and he was the only one that she saw fit to open up to. When he left, she retreated to a room in the Hyperion and never came out. The gang was at a loss at how to deal with her. They tried appealing to her through Tacos, her favorite food, but to no avail. She seemed to like writing on her walls, so they let her. It seemed that nothing would get her to come out until Angel came back. The gang was discussing that very topic while eating Chinese take-out.

"Do you think we're wrong in assuming that Fred will come out of her room when Angel comes back?" Wesley said.

Gunn shrugged. "I have no idea. That girl stayed in a cave for five years. Maybe she likes it. For all we know she could be having a grand old time in there."

"I doubt it," said Cordelia. "The way Angel described it, she was miserable in that cave. She made an enchilada out of tree bark for Pete's sake. I think she still thinks a Pylean guard is ready to chop her head off if she pokes it out the door."

Wesley had an idea. "Maybe you should try, Cordelia. You're a woman, so you might have a better job getting through to her than Gunn or I."

Cordelia looked at Wesley with surprise. "Me? You don't think she might resent me for being crowned a queen on my first day there when she was nearly killed and called a cow?"

Wesley shrugged. "It was just an idea. The most likely possibility is that we'll have to keep waiting for Angel."

"Who knows when that'll be, though. I'll go see her later tonight and see if I can get her talking. I'm the type of person people feel comfortable talking to."

Gunn chuckled slightly under his breath, followed by Wesley. She jokingly scoffed. "Well I don't see either of you going up there."

Later that night:

Wesley and Gunn had both gone home, and Cordelia phoned her apartment to leave a message for Dennis saying that he shouldn't wait up for her, as she was going to try to get Fred in a conversational mood. When that was done, she went upstairs and hesitantly knocked on Fred's door. "Fred? It's Cordelia."

There was no response for a minute, but then she heard a small voice. "What do you want? I'm busy."

Cordelia was surprised at the statement. "Busy? With what?"

"I'm writing out String Theory and its contradictory relationship with my nano-particle theorem."

"I don't suppose there's any way to spell that out in Layman's terms?"

There was no response for a second, but then Fred actually opened the door and looked at her. "I'm doing science-y things."

"Ah," Cordelia smiled. "Can I come in?"

"Why?" Fred asked suspiciously.

"I just want to talk. You've been cooped up in there for a month, and I figure you could use some company."

Fred looked uneasy. "I prefer being alone…"

Cordelia decided to take the initiative and walked in. "Oh come on. No one prefers complete isolation."

"I didn't really choose it five years ago…" Fred mumbled under her breath.

Cordelia realized what she said. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be insensitive."

"It's alright," Fred looked down at her feet for a few seconds. "When's Angel getting back?"

"It's hard to say. It'll probably be soon though. You know, just because Angel isn't here doesn't mean that you can't come downstairs and spend time with us once in a while."

Fred picked up a pen and continued writing on the wall. "I'll take that into consideration. Night."

"I know a sincere answer when I hear it, and that wasn't one," Cordelia said sarcastically.

Fred turned around and started talking honestly. "It's just… I hear you all talking about me like I'm a child who needs tending to, but I'm a grown woman who just likes privacy."

"I think you're a grown woman who was forced to accept privacy."

Fred gave her a look that told her she wasn't far off the mark. "It's what I'm used to."

"Don't you want companionship?" Cordelia asked.

"Why? I've got all I need right here. My notes, food, a bathroom…"

Cordelia sat down and motioned for Fred to join her. "That's all good as far as it goes, but none of it can replace interacting with a real human being. Is there anything you want? You don't have to be content with just food, water, and shelter anymore."

Fred laughed. "A new pen would be nice. Mine is running out of ink."

Cordelia chuckled. "Not just pens. Is there anything you used to do before? Anything fun or relaxing?"

Fred hesitated to answer. "Well, there was one thing…"

Cordelia smiled. "I'm sure I can help. What is it?"

"Back in Texas, and then when I moved to L.A., I liked smoking weed."

That was the last thing Cordelia expected to hear. Sweet, innocent Fred smoked weed? "You did drugs?"

"No! I wasn't a junkie or an addict or anything; I just liked smoking a joint or hitting a bong with some friends now and then."

"Oh. I don't mean to come across as judgmental. It just came as a shock," Cordelia wondered if she should say this, but they were actually getting somewhere, so what could it hurt? "I sometimes smoke pot too."

Fred looked shocked. "Really?"

Cordelia nodded. "I started about a year and a half ago, when I first got the visions. Sometimes they hurt so much I would do anything to ease the pain, and then one day I remembered that my neighbor two doors down was a real stoner, and I had him fix me up with his dealer. After I get one of those migraine-inducing 'gifts' from the Powers, I go home and roll myself a joint. It helps to take the edge off."

Fred smiled and slightly giggled. "I started smoking when I was sixteen. I had a boyfriend in High School who was really into weed, and I wanted to do everything he did, so I met his dealer and got a couple bowls to share over the weekend while my parents were away. I really liked it and kept smoking even after we broke up. After a long day of calculating equations, it was nice to just lay back and let yourself get lost in the smoky haze."

Cordelia mentally laughed at herself that she was bonding with Fred over Marijuana. "I know what you mean. Sometimes I'll sit up on the roof of my apartment, smoke a joint, and watch all the stars dance and swirl."

Fred's eyes widened. "I thought I was the only one who did that!" They both laughed, and then Fred looked down. "I haven't smoked Weed in five years."

Cordelia got an idea. "You know, I just stopped by my dealer a couple days ago and picked up some. I could go swing by my apartment and bring it over here."

"You mean you want to smoke with me?"

"Only if you want to."

Fred smiled and laughed. "Sure, why not? It's been a while, but I still remember how to do it."

Cordelia got up and opened the door. "Don't go anywhere. I'll be back in a couple minutes." Though she had no idea it would end up like this, Cordelia was enjoying this night immensely.