Run.
The thought
became a command, her body whipping around in compliance. The elevator seemed
an age away and focusing her eyes upon its sturdy metal door, Cordelia moved
toward it, her pace clumsy. She was half way there, her fingers jerking to tug
the door sideways when she felt his inevitable touch restraining her. Angel's
hand clamped around her upper arm, gentle but insistent, pulling her around.
"Cordelia…"
She flung herself
backward, hoping to loosen his clasp. "Let me go Angel."
Grip steadfast,
Angel shifted closer, his voice even. "Cordelia, just calm down and listen
to me."
Cordelia
stilled, her breaths shallow. "You're hurting me. Let go."
"I
will," Angel said gently "Just let me finish. I know you're scared
right now, I know that…"
"I'm not
scared," Cordelia interrupted angrily, her hazel eyes flashed "I'm
not even surprised. It's just like you to snoop around, decide you knowing
what's going on and make a better than thou, I know what's good for you
judgment. You don't know anything about me or Jarod."
"I know
about the dangers of Kanthros powder." The vampire leaned his head
downward, "Do you? Did Jarod explain the risks before he started his hokey
pokey on you?"
She twisted in
his grasp, her eyes filling with frustrated tears. "I don't need to hear
this crap."
Wrapping his
other hand around her free arm, Angel pulled her closer. "Yes you
do," he said grimly, "You need to hear this. The powder is addictive,
Cordelia, you're an addict. Your new best friend didn't tell you that, did
he?"
"God, could
you just listen to yourself?" Cordelia managed a bitter laugh, her lips
trembling, "I make a new life for myself, without you and that makes me an
addict?"
Angel inclined
his head forward. "No, the powder makes you an addict. Withdrawal makes
you clean."
Everything
stopped. Breathing, every nerve and fiber stilled as a slow knowledge crept
into her senses.
He was
serious. He was going to do this.
"You can't,
you, " she stumbled, the words sticking in her throat. "You can't do
this."
Angel smiled, a
tinge of sadness gathering in his gaze. "I have to do this Cordelia."
She shook her
head in desperation. "Let me go." His silence fuelling a sudden rage,
she pushed against him, her voice elevating to a scream. "Let me the hell
go."
Stepping back,
Angel uncurled his fingers, releasing her arms. She backed away slowly, staring
at him blankly, suspicious confusion creeping onto her face. Cordelia cast a
panicked wild-eyed glance around the apartment, all the while edging backward,
her eyes eventually drifting back to the silent vampire.
She paused,
struggling to contain the medley of feelings swirling through her, conscious of
a rising aching yearning.
I need to get
out of here. Now.
"I've heard
what you have had to say Angel." Cordelia's voice shook, "And I am
leaving. Don't try to stop me and don't try to contact me again. I don't want
to have anything to do with you. Our friendship is finished."
He stood
perfectly still, his expression calm, eyes unreadable.
Cordelia
smoothed her hands over her hips anxiously, unsure of what to do. Finally
pulling her eyes from that impassive face, she turned away and walked briskly
through the apartment. Dipping her head, she ascended the winding back stairs,
each shadowed step taken with increased confidence.
Nearly there.
Reaching the top of the unlit staircase,
Cordelia lowered her hand to the door bolt. She smoothed her fingers over the
rough rust of the metal and tugged it sideways. It didn't budge. Sliding her
other hand beneath to try again, her hand brushed against a new smoother metal.
Frowning, Cordelia reached for the added appendage and palming her hand upward,
she found herself holding a padlock.
A brand new shiny padlock.
A small cry of frustration pushed past
her lips. Dropping the padlock, she watched the shiny weight disappear into its
dark corner. Cordelia spun around and hurtled down the stone steps, pacing her
way back through the apartment. Angel stood exactly where she had left him, his
arms now crossed, his head bowed. Storming past him, Cordelia raced up the main
staircase, pausing half way.
Another padlock.
Cordelia stared at it, knowing that rage
alone wouldn't weaken it. She turned slowly, her slim shoulders stiff. She
flickered a gaze to the elevator, unsurprised to find it's door now guarded by
a similar lock. She descended the stair, the steps creaking beneath her.
Cordelia paused beside the vampire.
"Angel," she said in a low
voice, that dark burning sparking within. "Give me the keys."
He shifted sideways, lifting his head.
"I can't do that Cordelia."
This isn't happening. This ISN'T
happening.
The sound of her heartbeat pounded in her
ears. "Angel, stop it. Give me the damn keys."
Angel
straightened and moved away, leaning against the weapons cabinet.
"Cordelia, we've been through this part. Why don't you just relax, watch
some television or something and we can talk when you have thought this…"
"I want OUT
OF HERE. NOW!" Her voice pitched to scream, every aching fiber on fire.
Angel looked at
her, allowing her scream to fade into silence. He glided his hand over the
smooth wood of the cabinet, his eyes fixed on the young girl.
"That's not
going to happen Cordelia."
"No,"
she said desperately, "This isn't happening." She pulled her hair
back, taut as she forced herself to focus. To think. Somewhere in the hot
burning muddle that was her mind, she remembered.
Phone.
********************************
She was gone
running toward the kitchen and Angel guessed as he lifted himself from the
sturdy wooden cabinet, toward the phone. He followed her, reaching the kitchen
as she fumbled with the receiver, her fingers punching in the numbers. Winding
an arm around her tiny waist, the vampire scooped her away from the telephone,
knocking the set to the floor. He could unplug it later. Right now, he had to
contend with the bundle struggling in his arms. Looping his free arm around
her, Angel pulled Cordelia against him.
"Stop
it" he warned as she kicked against him. "You calm down or I'll put
you under a cold shower until you do."
His threat
evidently held some sway for Cordelia steadied herself, relaxing in his grasp.
"I'm
sorry," she said a few moments later. "I'm sorry Angel, please just
let me go."
"Cordelia,
you have to…"
"Look its
not like I can go anywhere is it? You've pretty much seen to that so let me go,
and we can talk all right?"
Angel
relinquished his hold, fully prepared for another flight. Not that she could
get very far, he mused as he stepped away, the only other telephone was his
cell-phone, protected by its own key-lock. Cordelia was to all intent and
purposes, trapped.
She moved a
little away, dusting down her trousers, lifting her arms to hug herself, the
very picture of vulnerability. She pulled a chair out and sat down, her eyes
glued to the floor.
"Angel, I
know you are worried about me but this, this is crazy. You can't just kidnap me
like this. You can't just take control of my life this way." She raised
her gaze, hurt and confused, to meet his own. "Don't you think you might
be wrong? Don't you think I would know if what you say is true? Don't you think
I would know if I was an addict?"
Looking at her,
her face earnest and honest, Angel felt as though he was seeing his old friend
and the tiniest flicker of doubt sparked in his mind.
What if she's
right?
What if the
powder isn't addictive in all cases?
What if Wes and I are wrong?
What if I
have just kidnapped my best friend for no reason at all?
That small spark
of uncertainty was quickly extinguished as memories of the recent deceit and
lies flooded his mind. Sighing, Angel turned and grabbed the Chronicles of
Belejere from the kitchen counter. He flicked through it and finding the
relevant passage, leaned across the table, swinging the book toward his young
seer.
"Read
that," he said quietly. "Read that and tell me I am wrong."
She did, a scowl
settling on her face as her eyes raced through the medieval script. "So
some old scroll tells you it's true and you believe it? You listen to some
powdered wig dead guy before me?"
"Kanthros
powder is addictive Cordelia. That's a fact, I believe in facts. If you're so
convinced you don't need the powder, staying here for a few days shouldn't be a
problem."
Cordelia's grip on
the page tightened. "Few days?"
"Four at
the most" Angel said lightly.
"Four
days?" Cordelia laughed, the sound brittle. "Angel, you know how
crazy you sound?"
"If you
don't have an addiction, you shouldn't have a problem"
"With
someone kidnapping me and trying to control my life?" Anger flashed across
her face, distorting her features. Bowing her head, Cordelia took a deep
breath, evidently assessing her options. When she looked back at him, her
expression was one of tight calm.
"So what,
you're saying if I try to leave, you'll physically stop me, is that it?"
Angel nodded.
"Pretty much."
She smiled
grimly. "Fine. Then I really don't have a choice but to stay, do I?
Whatever, you want to see that I'm not an addict, that's what you'll see. But I
hope its worth it Angel, because the cost is our friendship." Cordelia
flung the Chronicles across the table, watching the book slide off to slap
against the fridge with a resounding thud.
She rose to her
feet, anger brimming. "I'll stay here Angel. But don't expect me to talk
to you or want to have anything to do with you now or ever. Save your shrink
talking for someone else. From what Faith said, you pretty much suck at that
too."
Spinning on her
heel, she walked away, leaving Angel in the quiet of the kitchen.
Wondering just
how the hell this was going to work out. "So she agreed to stay?"
"I wouldn't
say that." Angel said in a low undertone, as he tugged the cell-phone
closer to his ear.
"Well, what
would you say?" Impatience lined Wesley's voice.
"I think it
was more a case of her accepting she didn't have any other choice. She's in
there watching television now."
"Have you
tried talking with her?"
"Wes, I'm
lucky if she looks at me. It's been seven hours and so far all I've learned is
that our friendship is over, I am a terrible shrink, a waste of dead space and
she never once enjoyed my cooking. You getting the picture here?"
The Englishman
sighed. "Completely. And she hasn't shown any effects of withdrawal
yet?"
"She looks
awful Wesley. She's edgy and fidgety. She can't damn well relax." Angel
scratched his head wearily. "It's only starting, you know."
"I suppose
so." Wesley considered slowly, "You know I am here if you need me,
Angel, don't hesitate to, "
"I know
that Wesley," Angel interrupted quietly, "And I am grateful for it. I
don't know how I would manage by myself."
"You'd do
just fine," the Englishman answered with certainty.
"Not so
sure about that." Angel hoisted himself to his feet, smoothing the rumpled
bedcovers,"I am going to go, try and get her to eat something."
"Good
luck," Wesley said dryly. "And take care"
"Will
do."
Inspecting the
buttons, Angel powered the cell-phone down.
"Right then
Ms Chase," the vampire murmured as he tucked the phone under his pillow,
"Let's see how you're doing."
*********************
"Are you
all right?"
Cordelia stared
at the television screen, seemingly absorbed by the documentary on medieval
monarchies in Italy. She had managed for the most part, to ignore him for the
past five hours, instead occupying herself with the muddled turmoil of her
mind. She had assessed the situation from every possible angle, with as much
objectivity as she could muster and found herself reaching the same
conclusions.
She had to
get out.
That conclusion
reached, Cordelia forced herself to answer the difficult questions. Could Angel
be right? Was the powder addictive? Was the awful trembling fire in her stomach
burning into a desire for powder, for a vision?
The barest
memory of a vision eased the burning, relieved the fire. And with that,
Cordelia had found a simple truth.
I don't care.
I don't care if he is right. I need the bliss.
"Cordelia,
are you listening? How are you doing?"
I can't get
out of here, ignoring him. I can't get anywhere, ignoring him. Let him think we
are back on track.
She turned her
head slowly, her hair smoothed against the soft leather chair. "Not so
good."
The vampire
paused, caught by her unexpected reply. He nodded cautiously. "I guess so.
You want to talk about it?"
"What's to
talk about?" Cordelia turned her eyes back to the flickering screen, her
face illuminated by it's light. "I could do with a sandwich though."
"Sandwich,
right." Angel agreed enthusiastically. He held out his hands, weighing up
the possibilities. "You want salad, meat or fish?"
"Salad"
Cordelia replied. "Cheese salad."
"Consider
it made" Angel said, his grin unchecked. Cordelia eating was always good,
she was far too weight conscious. Cordelia eating right now was great.
After all, she
was going to need her strength.
**********************
The sandwich
looked enormous. Salad sandwiches, Cordelia thought with well-contained
disgust, were supposed to be thin and compact. Not overflowing with every
vegetable imaginable. Her stomach revolted at the bare idea of a bite. Or was
that her head. She felt so damn fuzzy, she wasn't quite so sure.
Fuzzy. The
clouds had been fuzzy in her vision. They had all intermingled into one giant
hazy cloud.
Her mouth was so
damn dry.
"Thank
you" Cordelia tugged the plate onto her lap, her fingers clutching the
crusty bread roll.
She was going to
be sick.
Aware of his
expectant presence, she lifted the sandwich to her lips, forcing herself to
take a bite.
Chew. Chew till
it's nothing at all. Till you barely have to swallow.
"It's all
right?" Angel queried beside her.
Fighting the
urge to gag, she swallowed, her eyes fixed firmly on the television set.
"Yeah" she managed, barely hearing her words over the pounding pain
in her head. "Is there any juice?"
He was gone,
muttering promises of a variety of fruit juices. Steadying the plate on the
side of the chair, Cordelia rose to her feet quietly, her eyes scouring the
room.
Every weapon,
every goddamn ancient sword and stake gone. Weapon cabinet firmly secured.
Somewhere in
between the roaring muddle of her mind and the sudden shakiness of her body,
Cordelia remembered the cleaning box. There was always some battle-muddied
weapon flung in there, left for later attention. She swirled, creeping beneath
the mahogany table, her trembling fingers lifting the lid, revealing a small
knife, layered with a green film. Cordelia eased it from under a half broken
crossbow, the marble handle cold in her hot hand.
"Cordelia."
She was on her
feet, moving faster than she had thought possible.
Angel stood, a
glass of orange juice in his hand, an expression of muted disappointment on his
face. Stretching a hand sideways, his eyes never leaving her face, Angel placed
the glass beside her plate.
"What are
you planning to do with that?"
His voice was
filled with calm, almost soothing the boiling within her. The vampire stood,
his stance relaxed, characteristic self-assurance in his voice.
"Cordelia?"
He stepped
closer.
She flung the
knife outward, her eyes desperately searching the apartment. "Don't. Just
don't."
Half way through
a slow step, Angel paused, his lips twisting into a knowing grimace as he
heeled back. He chose his words carefully.
Go gentle.
"All right.
You want to let me in on your plan?"
"Just stay
there. No, get me the keys or the phone. Get me one of them. No, get me
both."
Her mouth was on
fire, her eyes stinging and she begged for tears to quench the heat.
"Cordelia."
A hint of worry embraced his tone. "Be careful with that thing, all right?
Just drop it, you know you can't hurt me with it."
She looked at
him, eyes gleaming with cold. "I can hurt myself. I can dig it right into
my stomach and then you'll have to let me out. You won't leave me here to bleed
all over your nice floor, would you Angel? Stains wouldn't come out. You'd have
a hard time explaining that to…"
She blinked and
he was there, knocking the knife with one smooth tug of her wrist. He kicked it
across the floor and she careered past him, her hand stretching for it. Angel
reached down and pulled her shrieking form back into a tight hold.
So much for the
gentle approach, he reflected as he wrapped his arms around her tightly. The
young seer was wild with rage, bucking against him for freedom.
"Cordelia…" The vampire ducked as an arm freed itself and swung back
aggressively. He re-captured it and tried again.
"Shush, its
okay Cordelia, just relax, please just calm down."
Barrages of
expletives were his only response. Releasing an unnecessary breath, Angel eased
himself back against the wall, gripping her firmly against him and knowing she
would tire herself out, the vampire let her fight it out.
Cordelia did
just that. She fought him, cursed him and struggled against him with all of her
might, sudden bouts of energy and rage fuelling her. Holding her easily, Angel
remained silent, ignoring every yell and threat, grateful he didn't have
neighbors.
"You can't
do this to me. You cannot do this."
"You
haven't a fucking clue about anything, you know that? Not a fucking clue."
"You
bastard, I am going to stake you, you hear me?"
"Why
wouldn't I want to leave? You fucking killed Doyle didn't you?"
Cordelia wore
herself out and quietened, still wriggling in his grasp. She strained against
his arms, her small frame curving away from the vampire. Worried that she might
hurt herself, Angel shifted so that she fell back against him. To his surprise,
Cordelia didn't resist, instead resting against his chest, her eyes damp. They
stayed like that, close together, one strong, the other unbearably weak, the
chatter of a talk show, the only sound.
She finally
spoke, her small voice filled with misery. "Why are you doing this?"
Angel squeezed
her gently, his chin resting on her head. "Because you need me."
She sniffled,
releasing a long weary breath. "You don't know what I need. You have no
idea."
"I know
that" Angel acknowledged truthfully. "I know I can't possibly
understand what this powder is like. I know that Cordelia. But I know you need
help and I am going to give it to you, whether you like it or not. Its not
going to be easy and I am guessing we'll have a few more bouts before we get
there but we will Cordelia. I promise it will get better."
"Angel, I
need to go" Cordelia whimpered, her head suddenly light. "Please
don't make me stay, please just help me. Let me go."
"I can't do
that, I…"
She weakened in
his arms, her faltering sudden.
"Angel,"
she murmured, her voice almost incoherent, "I don't feel so good."
"All right,
its okay." Angel unwrapped an arm and gently lowered her to the ground.
Her head flew forward, almost slapping against the ground. Angel palmed her hot
forehead back, sweeping her hair back from her moist face.
"I'm here
Cordelia. I'm here."
The young girl
leaned forward, retching. "Angel, I …" She vomited violently, her
stomach flipping every content forward, her throat aching with the effort.
"Oh
God," she cried intermittedly, hot tears rolling down her face, her body
limp, "Oh please God."
Angel placed a
cool hand on her back, rubbing her gently, images of every way he would like to
torture Jarod racing through his maddened mind.
"It's all
right Cordelia," he soothed, a helpless hand on her back, "I'm
here."
Stroking long
strands of hair from her flushed face, whispering low comforts, Angel tended to
his young Seer as best he could. He had managed to carry her to the bathroom
where the bout of vomiting continued for almost twenty minutes, the constant
retching exhausting her.
She lay against
him now, spent, her body limp with lethargy.
He slipped an
arm from behind her. "Cordelia, I'll be back in a minute all right? Just
rest there."
She didn't
respond, didn't acknowledge him but simply sat there, her hazel eyes hollowed
by exhaustion.
"One
minute." Angel affirmed needlessly as he left her, reluctance in his step.
*************************
Cordelia groaned as another wave of
nausea swept through her. The young seer bent forward, long dark hair circling
her face. Cordelia clutched her waist as cramps tightened her lurching stomach,
a low moan escaping her and she closed her eyes, willing some semblance of
equilibrium to settle in her body.
And then he was
back, crouching beside her.
"Cordelia,
take a sip."
She opened her
eyes, a glass of water greeting her. Her stomach flipped.
"I
can't," she croaked, wrinkling her nose in revulsion. "Angel please
just…"
He tilted her
chin up, guiding the glass to her lips. "Just one sip."
Incapable of
fighting him on this one, Cordelia's lips parted obediently, cool water gushing
into her mouth. She swallowed, wetting her parched, grating throat.
"Good
girl," Angel said quietly, lowering the glass to the tiled floor. He
studied the young girl before him in silence, his eyes drinking in the
terrifying sight that was Cordelia Chase. "How are you doing Cordy?"
he asked quietly.
The question
tickled her and she smiled, her head lolling back, immediately steadied by his
hand.
"Just
great," she slurred, her world fading to black. "Just great."
"Cordelia,
Cordelia, look at me."
"Cordelia."
Two hands
grabbed her shoulders, shaking her violently.
"Cordelia
Chase, you look at me right now."
Her head snapped
up, eyes blazing. "Stop that. Leave me the hell alone."
Angel took a
long and completely unnecessary breath. "Well, quit going to sleep on
me."
Cordelia felt
her brief energy drain away. "I feel tired."
The vampire
nodded in understanding as he reached behind him, producing a dark colored
garment. One of his t-shirts. "I know. Let's get you cleaned up and you
can go lie down all right?"
She shook her
head weakly, the barest idea of moving far too awful to contemplate.
"Angel, please just leave me be, you don't understand, I feel like
I…"
Angel paused,
the t-shirt half straightened in his hands. "Like what?"
She focused on
him, her eyes boiling with a parching aridity. "Like I'm on fire. Every
single bit of me."
Cordelia could
have told him about her pounding head, her pain twisted stomach, her tingling
arms or the fact that she could feel every fiber in her body ache. She could
have told him, had she been able to distinguish one agony from the other. As it
was, they all melded into one utter misery.
Not that it
mattered. Angel knew of all the symptoms and more to come, courtesy of Wesley.
"I know
Cordelia," he said softly, moving closer. "I'm going to help you feel
better."
"The
powder," she murmured, her teeth clenched as another cramp dug into the
pit of her stomach. "Angel, please, the powder."
He was lifting
her top, ignoring her whimpered protests, Cordelia's hot skin tilting back
against the blessedly cool tiles. And then he was moving her forward, guiding
her into his t-shirt, a familiar smell of Angelness enveloping her. He lifted
her effortlessly, leaning her against him, tugging her trousers from her waist,
slipping the t-shirt over her hips.
"Angel"
His name stumbled from her mouth. "Please just call Jarod for me, please I
just need…"
Angel held her
tightly, looping an arm around her to support her weakened frame, ignoring her
quiet pleading. He had been dreading this part, fearful that his ability to
care for her would fail him. Angel knew his strengths. He was good at brooding.
He was really good at fighting demons and ogres. He was quite confident he
would be a terrible carer and yet it felt entirely natural, almost instinctive to
take care of Cordelia. Seeing her this way quite simply, hurt him. The vampire
felt a hundred other emotions, anger and fear, protectiveness and misery, but
at the root of it all, lay a deep and abiding hurt.
Cordelia was
almost broken.
So this part wasn't
that bad, after all. He could fix this, help her. He hadn't been wrong.
She had needed
him.
Planting a
sudden kiss on her damp, sweat lined head, Angel lowered her back to the floor
and turning, he reached for the shower cord.
**********************
The sound of
splattering water roused her a little, a dim horror breaking through. "Oh
God, Angel no please, just leave me."
Head spinning,
Cordelia rose unsteadily. She tottered toward the open doorway, strong arms
pulling her back. The seer hunched up in his grasp, raising her arms, wriggling
away.
"Come on
Cordelia," the vampire said firmly, lifting her from her feet. He turned
toward the shower.
She buried
herself in his arms. "You don't understand it burns, it burns so bad."
"It will
make you feel better pet, I promise," Angel soothed, pulling back the
shower curtain. The vampire stepped inside, carrying her over the edge of the
bath, lowering her to her feet. She clung to him, her small hands fisting
against his chest.
"Angel,
please don't make me do this. I'll do anything you want, just please."
Forcing himself
to remember the reasons he was doing just this, Angel stepped forward, forcing
her back under the water. She screamed as the water hit her skin, the
pain-filled sound ripping through him, tearing him into little pieces. He held
her close, her drenched t-shirt soaking him.
"Shush
Cordelia, it will get better, I promise. Just hang on in there."
Cordelia sobbed
relentlessly, the agonizingly cold water assaulting her burning, boiling skin.
The pain overwhelmed her, rocketing turmoil through every sense. She turned
inward sinking into despair, closing off every feeling. The pain, as Angel had
promised, subsided, her skin chilled to a bearable heat, the water a welcome relief.
She stood there, a dripping sopping mess, fingers wrapped in Angel's
shirt.
Cordelia Chase
had hit rock bottom.
