Disclaimer: It still all belongs to Joss and David.
Thanks for all the feedback so far, all very encouraging. Please review and let me know how you think this is going, the review is at the end but all of my fics tend to have a nice big space between chapter end and box.. don't let that put you off !! This fic may be a little longer than I originally anticipated, so bear with me, we'll get there in the end…
But for now, here's chapter three of
Body Armour.
The sand trickled through her toes, tickling her. Cordelia stepped out of her open toe sandals and swished her feet through the warm sand, the feathery grains massaging her weary skin. Gazing out at the ocean, an expression of pure delight crossed her face and turning, she flung her arms around her companion.
"It's beautiful here" she murmured into the soft of his neck, "Thank you."
Jarod squeezed her gently and stepped back, nodding toward the shimmering water. "I didn't create it, just found it."
Cordelia nodded enthusiastically as taking her hand, Jarod led her down the dune. "It's so quiet, no people or screaming children, or…"
"Lifeguards" Jarod said teasingly, earning himself a solid slap from Cordelia. He threw himself down and tugged her beside him, "I found this place a few years ago. I wasn't doing so well and I found the quiet resting." He turned to her speculatively, "I guess you'd understand."
Cordelia surveyed the ocean, confusion creasing her brow. "It's so peaceful here, so tranquil, it's hard to believe here, that there is such darkness out there. All that pain," her voice fell to a low whisper, "all that grief."
She fell silent, sudden disquiet settling within.
"It's out there," Jarod promised softly, staring ahead "You know it, better than many. It's out there but in the midst of it, you have to hang on to here. Find it and keep it."
Cordelia followed the lazy path of a young seabird, "You really think I can?"
Jarod slid her a sideways glance. "You've done it before. Let me show you how to again."
*
The sky swirled above her, mingling with every sense. She could touch the damp feather tresses of each cloud, her skin tinged with vivid blue.
"Can you feel it?"
That voice, as natural as the breath she drew, soothed her, called her home.
"Yes," she breathed, "I can feel it all."
And she could. Slow understanding had dawned, this power to embrace with every sense.
He sprinkled a little more powder on her brow, "What can you see?"
Cordelia concentrated, softly pulling the images together. "There's so much," she murmured, hardly aware of his light squeeze of her shoulder, "There's a bright light, surrounded by darkness but that light, it won't, it can't be dimmed." Something caught her attention and she turned a slow gaze toward it, "There's a warrior, guiding the innocent to safety. And two, torn apart and there's you." Cordelia's voice raised a pitch as she stared in wonderment, "There's you."
A wincing ache caught her and she cried out in sudden pain, her body drained and limp. Hands lifted her into a sitting position, the sky vanishing and she found herself staring into now familiar eyes.
"What happened?" Bewilderment carved into every feature, Cordelia slid a hand up his shoulder. "I saw everything and then it vanished. It hurt."
"Only because it's new," Jarod assured her gently. Lifting a sand-grained hand, he pushed ragged strands of hair from her face, caressing her cheek tenderly, "You'll be fine. Just tired for a while."
"I saw it all," Cordelia said, eyes gleaming, "I saw things, just by trying."
"You did very well," Jarod told her, his hand stilling on her cheek, "You saw me?"
Cordelia searched his enigmatic gaze, "You were there, as a strong presence. What does it mean?"
"It's like any other vision," Jarod told her, slipping an arm around her waist. He lifted her to her feet and pulled her against him, walking her against his frame, "It's a message but this time, it's not for Angel, or anyone else, it's for you. So If I was in it, it means…"
Cordelia drew to a halt and surveyed him thoughtfully, the dying sun glinting in her dark hair. "It means that you're part of the future, in some way or another."
Jarod dusted a hand on his trousers, a smile her reward. "I certainly hope so Cordy. But come on, we need to get you back home."
"Back to work, you mean."
Jarod looked at her in surprise, "You have to go back? I thought we could do a little more…"
"No can do, I told them I was at an audition," Cordelia said very definitely, "What can I say, Angel is a real stickler about hours."
Allowing a wave of tiredness and a deadening weight of despair to envelop her, Cordelia wallowed in it for a half moment, the prospect of staying awake for much longer unbearable. Her hand slid against the wall, support slipping and pulling herself together with a sharp jerk, Cordelia straightened.
Fainting not an option.
Vision enhancing powder another definite no-no. Dusting her forehead, Cordelia inspected her hand for any trace of the substance and satisfied she was powder free, she took a deep breath and wrapped her fingers around the brass door handle. The office door loomed over her, diminishing her afternoon. Behind it, lay questions and memories, terrible memories clutching her, pulling her down.
Wanna kiss a dead man, Princess?
"No" Cordelia muttered firmly, remembering the sky. She dragged another long breath into her lungs and swung the door open.
Wesley looked up pleasantly from his chair, a leather bound book in his hands. "Cordelia, nice to see you back…" He paused and frowned, "Are you all right, you look…"
"Is that her?" Angel's voice shouted from the elevator.
"Terrible" Wesley finished, as their employer appeared in the office.
"Hey guys" Cordelia mustered a smile as she slung her coat across the leather couch, "Sorry I'm late. The audition ran slow."
Angel drank in the sight of his young associate, absorbing every detail of her. Her small face was drained of anything resembling color, her eyes dull. An air of fragility curved every movement, already slowed by apparent exhaustion. She looked, quite simply, wretched. A memory of Buffy, cradled in his arms after he had drunk from her, flitted through Angel's mind.
That's how bad Cordelia looks.
"Cordelia," Angel swallowed hard, "Are you all right?"
"Fine," Cordelia said, her smile distant. "I'm fine. Anything going on here? "
Angel looked at her uncomprehendingly.
No way can she act like everything is okay. Can't she see it herself?
Her artificial smile, the flash of her white teeth promised him she couldn't. A slow fear coiled in Angel's stomach as he surveyed her wordlessly.
I can't reach her anymore.
The thought reverberated through his mind, the echo growing louder until it grew into a sudden roaring wisdom. His young Seer was locked into some private misery, the distance between them stretching a little more every day. Angel studied her carefully, as though seeing her for the first time. There was a horrible, deadened air about her, a vulnerability that frightened him.
Anger swayed through him. It wasn't as though he had simply ignored her despair. Angel had considered Cordelia his responsibility, long before she became his Seer. She was nineteen years old, alone in a strange city, with no friends to speak of. He had taken care to keep her away from the darker elements of the job, limiting her involvement to research and re-con. Cordelia had seen enough terrors in Sunnydale, the vampire had decided early on, she could stick to reading about them now and for all her complaining that she was turning into a mini-Giles, Angel hadn't for the most part, wavered on that point.
The visions of course, had changed that. They brought their own torments, from which she couldn't be protected. If anything though, they had fueled Angel's determination to guard his young friend, to keep her safe from the demons that plagued her mind, to steer her through the visions with an unfaltering support. The visions had brought Doyle his own torments, the recklessness, the drink, the gambling. Angel had long since vowed that Cordelia wouldn't need a crutch, any crutch.
Except maybe him. Looking at her now, Angel was quite sure he had failed miserably.
"No," the vampire said with deliberation consideration, "You're not fine. Something's wrong. Something has been wrong for a long time now and it's time we sorted it out."
Flinching under his steady scrutiny, Cordelia edged back in instinctive defensiveness. "Angel," she said, her smile barely held, "Chill out already. All is well with Cordy. Trust me."
Angel trailed his gaze over her. She looks so damn lifeless. "I don't" he said finally, determination striding across his face, "Something is happening here and you need to start talking about it."
Ire flashed in Cordelia's blackening gaze. "Need to start talking?" Her laugh was brittle, "Turning into a shrink now, Angel?" She shook her head sharply, her expression stony, "You know what Angel? It really doesn't matter what you think." She stepped closer, her voice dropping to an icy low, "I have to tell you about the visions Angel, nothing else. Don't forget that."
At least she's reacting. At least she's showing some damn spirit. Time to provoke some more and maybe pound some truths home while I'm at it.
The vampire regarded her impassively for a short while. He nodded thoughtfully and cleared his throat as he took a half step closer.
"You are my Seer" Angel pushed grim resolve into every word, "That means you and I have a responsibility to each other. I intend to live up to that responsibility, whether you like it or not, so I suggest that you don't forget that."
Wesley coughed politely, "Perhaps you two should just…"
"Don't bother Wes," Cordelia said tightly as she swung past him to stalk toward the coat rack. She pulled her coat down, bristling anger fumbling every movement.
Angel paced behind her. "Cordelia, we're not done here."
She turned on him, fury lighting her eyes. "We are so done Angel. Go find some damsel to save because I am damned if I am going to stay here and listen to you rabbit on about something you know nothing about."
Angel palmed a hand outward, "So tell me," he said calmly.
"What?"
"Tell me, fill me in. What don't I know about? Because you're not going anywhere until this is sorted out."
Cordelia stared at the vampire in momentary disbelief. Was he deliberately trying to provoke her?
Yes. Realization pierced her, raw anger billowing deep within. She subdued it instantly, willing control as she sealed her lips, dry and thinned. He wanted to provoke her, to drive her to hollow empty tears, to cry out her troubles, to tell of the nightmares, the dark fear and vision flashbacks, so that she would break in his arms and he could put her back together piece by piece.
Not going to happen, Angel. I don't cry anymore.
And you might lose a piece.
"Forget it Angel" she said coolly, rage contained, "Like I said there's nothing to talk about."
"Well I think there…"
"I already told you I don't care what you think." Cordelia shot back, "It may surprise you to learn that I am managing okay. I am learning to cope with these stupid visions, learning to how to use them for my benefit so…"
"Coat in hand, you must be finished work right Cordy?" a voice interrupted from the opening door of Angel Investigations. The three swung around to see a slim, elegantly dressed girl step inside, her small figure poised with deliberate composure.
"Serena," Awkward surprise heightened Cordelia's tone, "Serena, hi."
"Hi" Serena raised a perfectly plucked and questioning eyebrow. "You ready?"
Cordelia masked her face with sudden warmth. " Just let me get my things." Spinning around, she slid past the vampire, quickly finding her elbow locked in a firm grasp.
"Cordelia" Angel said with a warm smile of his own, "The research on the Corrigan case remember? I'm afraid I need you here for a few hours."
Cordelia eased her elbow from his clasp. "All done," she smiled with sweet vehemence, "On your desk."
"Cordy," Serena clicked her stiletto heel against the wooden floor impatiently, "Believe it or not, the party will start without us." She smiled icily at Angel, "Besides which, I'm sure Cordelia's clocked up her working hours for today. She certainly looks like she has. Tired much Cordy?"
Deciding he didn't like Serena one little bit, Angel transferred his cool gaze on Cordelia's friend.
"Flexible working arrangement. I need Cordelia to stay late tonight."
"I think she can go ahead Angel" Wesley offered quietly, "I am familiar with that particular investigation, I can fill in the blank spots." The Englishman rose to his feet, picking Cordelia's bag from the sofa. He passed it to her with an affectionate wink. "Have fun."
She smiled brilliantly at him, relief flooding her face. "Wesley, you're a star." Turning, she curved her way past Angel and busied herself at her desk, "I'll just be a sec Serena."
"A real star Wes" Angel said, his eyes dark.
"I do what I can," Wesley replied smoothly, his hand resting on the gray filing cabinet.
Angel wasn't listening, having turned to watch his young assistant rustle in her drawer. "You need a ride home later?" he asked quietly.
Cordelia avoided eye contact with admirable skill. "No" she answered shortly, pushing her small make up compact into her velvet handbag. She pulled it over her shoulder, "I can manage."
She strode past Wesley and Angel, her head held high. "See you in the morning."
"Bright and early" Angel said evenly.
He caught the hesitancy in her step and knew his light remark had hit home. This would be sorted out. Just not tonight.
"Night Wes," Cordelia said quietly, patting the Englishman's shoulder as she passed, "See you tomorrow."
Wesley murmured goodnight and moved to slide the door closed behind them. His hand lingered on the cold metal handle.
Angel stuck his hands in his pockets, his fists tense. "So Wes," Sarcasm laced the vampire's voice, "You want to tell me why you helped Cordelia worm her way out of here?"
His hand slipping from the handle, Wesley turned to his employer, gravity ground in his expression. "Because," he said solemnly, "We're in more trouble than we thought."
*
"There was a distinctive smell from the moment she entered the office" Wesley scoured the bookshelf, finally selecting a volume of Prophecies of Foretelling. "You didn't get it?"
"No" Angel answered shortly from the kitchen table, "I was too busy having a minor seizure at the sight of her. She looked, she looked awful. Like death on legs. "
"Agreed" Wesley affirmed heartily as he sank into a chair opposite. He flipped the book open and began flicking through the pages, "She looked appalling."
"And you helped her avoid sorting whatever is going on, why?" Angel struggled to control his impatience. His entire body felt swelled with anger, with himself for letting things go on as long as they had, with Wesley for interfering and Cordelia, for her damn stubbornness.
Wesley glanced up, light reflecting in his immaculately polished glasses. "So you didn't get a smell when she came into the office?"
Angel looked at his employee in confusion, "A smell?"
Wesley inclined his head. "Think back. A distinctive odor."
Angel closed his eyes, tilting his head back. He forced his body to calm as he recalled the recent encounter in the office above. I was in the office, searching for my Mandolian sword, trying not to worry about the fact Cordelia was late. I heard Wesley greet her and I went out. She looked so awful, so damn exhausted, like she was about to keel over. She looked deathly under the wall lights, and that smell…
Angel strained every sense.
His eyes snapped open. "Kanthros powder. It was burned."
Wesley nodded grimly. "That's what I thought. And this text confirms the use of the powder as an…"
"Agent to induce visions or hallucinations. Demons commonly use it to seduce their prey, project a desirable image. Its other main use is…" Angel slowed, his eyes darting to Wesley's tightening face, "among Seers. Those with the gift of visions use it to access their gift, expand it."
Wesley referred to the page beneath his whitening thumb, "In effect, it allows a Seer step into the realm of visions. For example in Cordelia's case, she would be exposed to the realm of the PTB, she could in effect, see a number of things which may or may not be meant for her. She may see things that the PTB…"
"Don't intend showing anyone." Angel finished softly. He heeled his palms against the oak table.
"Wesley, the risks, what are the damn risks?"
"Considerable. Seers have experimented with such rituals over the centuries, the immense burden of her visions almost intolerable. But such experimentation inevitably leads to harm for the Seer. Some have fallen into a state of permanent delusions or psychosis. The mental strain is unendurable and ultimately leads to complete collapse, possibly death."
The Englishman sighed, a deep concern for his young friend spiraling through him. "Angel" he said slowly, "Cordelia could do real damage to herself. I suspected as much upstairs but I wanted to confirm the exact nature of the powder before confronting her. I can't understand how or why she would start toying with such a substance. I wasn't aware she had any knowledge or indeed interest in such rituals."
"Someone is guiding her through it." Angel said, his mind slowly churning a truth, "Cordelia doesn't know anything about rituals. She said something upstairs. 'I am learning to cope with these stupid visions, learning how to use them for my benefit'. Someone is showing her how Wes."
"Anyone who knows about this ritual would understand the risks," Wesley leaned forward, his thoughts darkening, "If someone is leading Cordelia through these expanded visions…"
"They are doing it for their own benefit." Anger clashed with fear in the vampire's eyes. He tilted himself back and heaved onto his feet, beginning a slow pacing the length of the kitchen.
Wesley watched him silently, his own mind ticking over. "Right," he said with an air of finality, "We know what's going on. We know what Cordelia has been hiding. We know someone, or something has been influencing her. The question is, what are we going to do about it?"
Angel heeled a halt, the demon screaming for revenge. The idea that someone was guiding her into her own destruction sickened him to the barest bone.
I am the Warrior.
I am responsible for her.
Angel placated the demon with a silent promise.
I'll fix this.
I'll save her.
From herself if I damn well have to.
The vampire turned to regard his friend. "We're going to find her and do what needs to be done. Simple as that."
Thoughts firing ahead, Angel reached for the book on the table. He flicked through the pages, ready to absorb every relevant piece of information ever written about the damn ritual.
"Angel." Wesley said evenly, "There's another complication with the ritual."
Angel glanced up from the fading page. "What is it."
The Englishman moistened his lips. "The powder isn't just harmful. It's a drug. It's addictive Angel. Which in and of itself present a whole other set of issues. Whoever is leading Cordelia through this madness is likely to be a strong influence and she is not going to be willing to walk away from him or her. The powder itself is extremely addictive. She is in effect addicted to the bliss of the expanded visions, regardless of the associated dangers. It isn't going to be easy to help her through what will essentially be cold turkey should she choose to walk away from this person."
"She doesn't get a choice in that." Angel said curtly, "She needs help, she's going to get it."
Wesley nodded his slow agreement. "I am merely pointing out Angel, that the measures you may have to take may be rather extreme."
Angel turned his attention back to the text, a surge of determination firing in him. "So we take them. Whatever it damn well takes to get her back."