By Michelle James
more_than_meet_the_eye@yahoo.com
© Copyright 2001
Disclaimers: Angel: the Series and all the characters belong to Joss Whedon - God it costs me to admit that !!!!
Rating: PG
Pairing: Cordelia/Doyle, I don't think I would be able to write Angel fics without Doyle in it !!! And I just love the interaction there was - still is - between him and Cordelia.
Spoilers: Any episode up to Season 1 - 'I've got you under my skin'. The thing is, I kinda got less interested in the series after the ninth episode … I wonder why …
Summary: Doyle is allowed to go back on Earth, but only for a very limited time and with a precise mission. Response to the Flashback Doyle Challenge on the Night Vision list.
Mmm … I don't know about you but I think I should warn the most sensitive ones to keep tissues close, I cried just imagining the story I almost drown writing it … ;o)
Thank you to Raquel, my exclusive and personal adviser … Hell, she provided me with *my* personal Holy Bible : the nine first episodes on tape … I just love this girl !!
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The winter here's cold, and bitter
It's chilled us to the bone
We haven't seen the sun for weeks
To long too far from home
I feel just like I'm sinking
And I claw for solid ground
I'm pulled down by the undertow
I never thought I could feel so low
Oh darkness I feel like letting go
Angel was sitting in his dark office. Everything was fine now with the Anderson's. But he just couldn't find peace. Not that he ever found peace, this time it was just too personal. While he thought he was on his way out of grieving, the name of Doyle had reappeared brutally in his life, by his fault. Yes, he admitted to Cordelia he missed him but … He didn't feel any better. He still felt guilty. He knew what the boy - the Ethros demon actually - said was a lie and he didn't act on it. He knew wherever Doyle was he wasn't blaming him for it. However, it struck close to the heart and, deep inside, he really felt guilty for not stopping the Scourge himself, for letting Doyle give his life … for not believing Doyle would do it.
It should have been him.
"It should have been me." He whispered in the dark.
"No." A voice with an Irish accent answered. "It wasn't your destiny."
Angel turned around in his chair as, magically, the lights were turned on and Doyle appeared in front of him. He was stunned, unable to utter a single word, unable to look away from the best friend he had in years.
Doyle slowly closed the distance between them and stood beside the chair sitting in front of Angel's desk. He was looking at Angel, waiting for him to recover from the shock.
"Doyle?" Angel finally managed.
Doyle smiled in response. "The one and only" he answered, waving at himself with his hands.
Angel did not say anything, he still could not believe it. Was he a ghost? Was he dreaming? Doyle stared back at him, slightly amused by the silence of his friend.
"Hey, you're not going to have a stroke on me, yeah?" He said trying to shake Angel as he sat in the worn chair in front of the desk. Angel could not help but smile at him. Yes, he was Doyle. Soon, he turned puzzled.
"But what … how …" Angel asked, making little moves with his hands, betraying his state of perplexity at the situation. Although he was happy to see Doyle, he did not understand any of this.
"They sent me back." Doyle answered slowly.
"They sent you back. You mean …" Doyle cut him.
"Not permanently. I've been sent to deliver you a message."
Angel frowned. He was still perplexed and disappointed.
"But isn't Cordelia my messenger now ?"
Doyle nodded.
"She is. But that specific message, they couldn't exactly deliver it through a vision. So they chose me to go back here, just the time to, you know, make the delivery and then ..." He trailed off voluntarily. He knew when he accepted it would be a real torture to come back, for him mostly but also for Angel.
An awkward silence settled down as Angel fought back the pain from acknowledging Doyle will soon be gone again. Doyle was trying to push back the feelings of being home in that place. They were not helping. So he focused on his task.
"You're doing good man. Keep going." He paused. "You're gonna have tough moments, find obstacles on the road but do believe in the good you're doing." He paused again, obviously hesitating.
"I shouldn't tell you that, I'm gonna get my ass kicked but … Never forget you're not alone, not anymore. You'll have doubts, you'll feel lost and all …" He threw up his hands before the arch brow on Angel's face. "I know, I know, it's not news for you … but it's gonna happen again and if you don't rely on the people you'll meet, you'll fail. I mean, keep in mind the people you meet isn't the result of coincidence. Look at me, look at Cordelia. And Wesley. You did good with him, even if sometimes he's …" Then he made one of his typical faces and Angel couldn't help but smile at him in a silent agreement.
The awkward silence settled again. They held each other's gaze for a while. When Doyle spoke again.
"They wanted me to tell you you were on the right track. And warn you 'cause it's not over. And you'll make mistakes. But I know you're gonna make it, I have faith in you." He smiled slightly.
Angel couldn't say anything, he couldn't believe Doyle was actually sitting in the chair in front of him and talking. He listened carefully to his friend but his mind was reeling, fighting against a surge of hope that maybe he was going to stay with them. False hope, he knew that.
Turning serious again, Doyle carried on.
"One thing though. You need to give up the guilt, man. It isn't the way to win the good fight." He said mirroring what Angel told him that day.
This time Angel found strength to answer to his friend.
"Doyle, I can't forget the ones I killed in 200 years, it is part of me, part of who I am now."
Doyle shook his head.
"No, Angel, I meant something else." He looked straight at him. "Why do you think They sent me? 'Well, let's torture them a little more and send him back …'" He stopped and shook his head again. "No." He simply stated.
As Doyle rested his elbows on his knees, Angel leaned forward on his desk, his attention undivided.
"Among all the things you've done, among the hurt and the guilt you feel inside your heart, there is something you need to let go."
Angel then understood what he was talking about.
"They saw the opportunity to lead you to the road to make you stronger. By relieving you from a part of your burden. A burden which is not yours."
"I understand you Doyle but you're beginning to speak like them."
At that, Doyle made a grimace.
"You're freaking me out here, man!" Turning serious again, he went further. "Okay, I'll go to the point. You can't carry on thinking you're responsible for my death on the Quintessa. Like I said, it was my destiny. I know you understand that but I also know you're still feeling guilty for not being the one who died then." He paused, searching for the right words. "At first, in the afterlife, I felt guilty myself for putting you both in such pain, mainly Cordelia …" he added in a whisper, "And you, man, has lost so many people in your life, I didn't intend to add more pain and I felt for a while I had taken from you a way to get rid of your burden through death."
Doyle leaned back in his chair.
"But then I thought about all the people you saved and about the ones you will save. People in need of a help I would never have been able to give them. Something you can do and will."
Angel's dark look pierced through Doyle's mind and saw the real faith he had in his abilities, the kind of faith Cordelia had for him being a 'bonfire hero'.
"But what good is a hero unable to follow the advice he so wisely gives to the hopeless? Where do you think brooding all night over my death is leading you? You have to find the strength to let go Angel. There is no use living in the past. No use living in a past you're not responsible for. If you want to make it through, you need to move on. You and Cordelia."
Doyle stopped and smiled dreamily at the thought of his princess while Angel was absorbing his words.
"She's doing a great job, isn't she?" Doyle asked still lost in memories.
Angel looked up at his friend and recognized the expression he saw on his face.
"Yeah, she's terrific." He watched as pain settled in Doyle's eyes and how he tried vainly to swallow the lump in his throat.
"You're going to see her?" He asked softly.
Doyle closed his eyes and shook his head slowly.
"What fer?" He asked.
"I don't know, it could do her some good."
"No. Too hard. For both of us."
Angel saw Doyle's hands twitch nervously then noticed he wore his claddagh with the heart pointing towards himself. At this sight, he couldn't help feeling sorry for the poor Irish half-demon, in love with a princess who uncovered too late his hidden strength and loyalty. It pained his heart and decided to change the subject, trying to lighten the mood.
"So, how's the afterlife then?"
Doyle turned suddenly his head toward Angel, surprised, then thought about it a few seconds.
"Boring."
Angel chuckled.
"Doyle, only you can find heaven's boring. I mean, I've seen Hell and I swear I wished then I was being bored in Heaven."
"Yeah, well, if you put it that way …"
So it's better this way, I said
Having seen this place before
Where everything we said and did
Hurts us all the more
Its just that we stayed, too long
In the same old sickly skin
I'm pulled down by the undertow
I never thought I could feel so low
Oh darkness I feel like letting go
That night, Cordelia just couldn't stay in her apartment, leaving Angel brooding again after the day's events. They had to deal with his feelings, to talk about it. To talk about him, they just never did. Maybe now was the good time. So, she grabbed her keys and headed out in the night.
She entered the dark office lost in her thoughts and went straight to Angel's office, oblivious to the third person there.
"Angel …" She stopped dead in her tracks.
As she was coming in, Doyle turned around and he couldn't prevent the lump in his throat from tightening.
"Princess …" He called hoarsely.
Cordelia's eyes went wide in shock, she let fall her purse.
"Doyle …" she whispered. Then, surprising everyone, she threw herself in his arms, claiming his lips for a passionate kiss.
Doyle stood still first, stunned by her reaction but soon he let himself be drawn in the feeling of her lips and her body. His hands found her hair and they carried on tenderly. When they broke the kiss neither of them could breathe. They were overwhelmed. This was surreal.
"Oh Doyle … " She kept her hands on his face, reveling in the feeling of his soft skin. "You … You're back".
He had a hard time finding again his voice to utter the words he knew would hurt her.
"I am sorry Princess, I'm not gonna stay. I've been sent here to deliver a message to Angel but I'll have to go back there very soon."
She grabbed the lapels of is shirt, shouting.
"No! No! I don't want you to leave me again!" She sobbed. "What is it, a new kind of torture? Why are they doing this to me … to us ... It's too hard." She had lowered her head, resting it against his chest, tears welling up in her eyes.
He gently stroked her hair.
"I wasn't supposed to see you." He paused. "I didn't want to." She shot up her head and the hurt he saw in her eyes was incredible. He reached out his shaking hand to her cheek, his gaze was locked on hers. "I … I knew it would have been too hard just to see you again, to hear your voice …" He trailed off, choking on the last words.
"Now that I see how much you're hurting, I know I was right about this." Sadness and regrets were spread on his face.
"Doyle …" she whispered, biting her lower lip to prevent tears from rolling down her cheeks. She was unsuccessful.
Looking deep into her eyes, he thought about it again.
"Or maybe I was wrong." He said, brushing away the fresh tears on her face. "Because that way I can tell you how much I am sorry."
She opened her mouth to speak but he put a finger on her lips. "I've been watching you, you know. Every time you had a vision I kicked myself for having passed them onto you. I … I never intended to, I would never hurt you Princess."
She covered his hand with hers. "I know …" She wanted to say so much more to him but she choked back on the words.
"If I had known, I wouldn't have kissed you. But I didn't and I couldn't find any other way to tell you I loved you." He closed his eyes and whispered: "I'm sorry …"
"It's alright Doyle." She said, finally going past the lump in her own throat, then touched lightly his cheek to make him open his eyes. "Sure first I damned you for the pain they bring. But soon I found in them a way to always have a part of you with me, inside of me. And I had a mission, it gave a meaning to my life, something I was looking for."
He was amazed by the strength he saw in her soul and in her mind. It just made his heart swollen.
"Even though it would have cost me to admit it at the time, I really liked having you around, and I feel bad for all the mean things I said to you. I was refusing to see in you what I might be able to …" He silenced her with his finger.
"Princess, no." He said with a voice haunted by unshed tears.
She tilted back her head and resumes speaking.
"I missed you Doyle, everyday. And I still miss you." She paused and closed her eyes. "It's so good to hear you again, to see you …"
"I won't be here forever Cordy, soon I'll have to leave you …" He didn't have time to finish.
She hugged him tight. "But you'll be sent here again, right? I'll see you again?"
He slowly shook his head. "You don't know that Cordy, and you can't live waiting for a ghost to stop by a few minutes. You deserve much more than that. You understand?"
"But I want to, I want to see you, to talk to you … to hold you" she added in a whisper.
"No. I'm dead Cordelia. You need to get back your life, to move on. You can't wait for something that will never happen. I wouldn't accept the responsibility of your wasting your life for me, I don't deserve it. Nobody does."
She looked down. Slowly, Doyle took off the Claddagh he wore on his left hand and gently slipped it on Cordelia's finger. She suddenly looked up.
"Hold on to it. When you're down, when you feel you're alone, hold on to it. I will always be there, I will always help you." He paused, holding her hand firmly in his. "But you have to move on."
She cried harder. "I won't be able to, Doyle. I need you." Tears were burning the back of his eyes. He knew he couldn't let them fall.
"You're strong Princess, more than you think." He smiled slightly. "You don't know how much you are. Believe in it, in your destiny. Believe you'll never be alone. Angel's here too, he'll help you."
She clung to him as she let her cries out, as she let out her grief, her sadness and her pain. He stood there, his arms around her, stroking her hair and her back. He had closed his eyes, fighting the urge to shed his own tears. This wasn't supposed to happen. He wanted to avoid causing her more pain.
He cast one last look at Angel who had remained silent, not wanting to disturb them in such an important and hard time. He thought about the time when he was human and with Buffy, just before They swallowed the whole day. He knew it was hard for them and that she would suffer. He would help Cordelia picking up the pieces afterwards. He understood it was his role and he intended to accomplish it correctly.
"Shh … No more crying, Princess." Doyle said as he kissed her cries. Taking her left hand in his, he fingered his claddagh as if he was inducing all his love in that little move, in that little piece of silver. He closed his eyes and brushed her lips with his.
"It is time to let go now."
Then he disappeared into the air, in a bluish halo of light.
If all of the strength
And all of the courage
Come and lift me from this place
I know I could love you much better than this
Full of grace
Full of grace
My love
The End
Song by Sarah McLachlan (Buffy's fans will have recognized it !), 'Full Of Grace' on Surfacing, © 1996.