Jerking awake from the icy grip of her nightmare, Cordelia threw herself facedown on the pillows, trying to stifle her sobs with the downy cushions. She didn't want to alert the others, but since her own scream woke her she was relatively sure it was sufficiently loud enough to bring the notice of everyone in the hotel… possibly everyone within a five-block radius. It was a good thing their neighbors had long ago grown used to the strange goings on at the Hyperion, otherwise they might have a police investigation to contend with on top of everything else.
Trying to push down the swelling fear and self-pity that rose in her breast, she gasped hiccupping, wracking sobs against the pillow, cramming its softness against her mouth and eyes. Maybe if she could just get herself under control before any of her knights in shining armor came to try to save her…
That thought was abandoned when she heard the door crash open and rushing feet near the bed on which she lay. There would be no avoiding their concern and anxiety now, no hiding from it in the superficial comfort and warmth of Angel's bed.
She struggled to shrug off the feeling of foreign hands pressed against her bare flesh, reminding herself in silent determination that any touch she might feel would be at the hands of those she loved and was loved by, not the stranger who had loomed up evilly from the shadows of the night.
Angel dropped to his knees next to her, his anguish clearly palpable in the dark stillness of the room. Wesley, Gunn, and Fred hovered at the doorway backlit by the rosy glow of the lamps in the far room, watching the scene but unsure of how to proceed or what they might be able to do to ease her distress. This battle she fought against her dream's tormentors, against the ghosts of whomever had attacked her was beyond their ability to fight. They could only be a constant presence, hoping that by the sheer presence of their numbers, she would be able to draw strength from them.
Cordelia curled further around the pillow, knowing her was there but not wanting to raise her head and see the self-loathing in Angel's eyes, not wanting to admit that she was yet again the cause for his self-flagellation. She was the reason for far too much of his guilt in the years since she had become a member of Angel Investigations. Stylized angels that looked more like lobsters, Angphel Investigations, heroic self-sacrifices… so much had happened in such a short time; a lifetime of experiences and regrets to mull over in the painful silences that made up her solitary nights.
Slowly extending his hand to smooth her hair, Angel cleared his throat to gain the attention of the seer who was trying to disappear among the sheets and pillows of his bed. He wanted to see her eyes, to assure himself that she was awake and no longer locked in the horror of her nightmare. Although her actions seemed to relay the fact that she was indeed awake, he refused to go by faith alone. His faith once told him that the powers would somehow spare Cordelia… not only had they not spared her the violence of the ever-worsening visions, but they had left her open to attack from outsiders without so much as a warning. Faith was a thing for children and the elderly.
Her whimpers seemed to quiet as he ran his fingers through the silken strands of her hair, soothing the locks into place against her scalp. Twisting around so that he could sit on the edge of the bed, he motioned for Wesley to close the door and leave them in the darkened room. Perhaps if he could get her to talk about the dream she would be able to get some more sleep.
"Hey."
She remained curled up on the bed, her face still hidden by the pillow as he tried to get her to talk. The trembles that shook her body were diminishing, giving way to over-tense muscles and sheer exhaustion. Her shoulders sagged back against the bed as she finally sighed deeply, raising her head from the pillow and rolling over to cast a glance up at her friend, Cordelia drew the blanket back up to cover her legs. In her restless sleep she had discarded all of the bedclothes to the edges of the mattress. At home Dennis would have kept her tucked in, at home she wouldn't have had to worry about disturbing her friends, at home she could try to forget that anything had ever happened.
"Cordy? You okay?"
Angel's soft voice was so tender, so filled with concern that she very nearly gave into the little niggling need to throw herself against his solid chest and nestle there in the safety of his arms until all the bad people left her memory. But even that fantasy was a laugh, nothing more than a cruel joke played out by her struggling psyche. Bad guys and demons were a constant force in her head ever since she was hit with the first vision; they were her constant companions, even more so than the leather-clad vampire who sat watching her so closely. They didn't need to leave her to race off and fight the evildoers; they just had to stick around until she was left alone with her screaming mind. Besides, she was Cordelia Chase and Cordelia Chase didn't run to others people to solve her problems, she dealt with them on her own… unless they incorporated demon spawn and then the only problem was the mind control bit.
Drawing her knees up she rolled back onto her side facing Angel and wrapped one long arm around her legs tangling the blanket in her grip. She needed to find the words that would convince him that she was okay, that she would be fine just like every other day since her arrival in Los Angeles. Those words escaped her, her mind drawing a blank. She simply stared at him.
"No, you're not. Dumb question." Brushing a lock of hair back from her eyes, he was pleased to note that she didn't shy away from his touch. "You don't have to do this alone, Cordelia. We're all here. We're not going anywhere."
Cordelia continued to stare, her thoughts swirling through a dozen similar promises. A dozen broken promises. She knew his intentions were noble, he wanted to save her from any and all harm, but the fact of the matter was that he couldn't and he never would be able to.
~~~
Wesley took a deep breath, releasing it slowly through clenched teeth. There were times that he wished he were still playing the role of rogue demon hunter. In that persona, he had no time for friendships, he hadn't yet remade the acquaintance of the starry eyed Cordelia or the morose Angel and, most importantly, he didn't care. Not caring kept his emotions in firm check; it didn't send him on a mental roller coaster ride every time a demon hurled a weapon past him to strike down one of his comrades, it didn't give him nightmares and cold sweats when he considered the lengths Wolfram and Hart was willing to go to in order to control Angel.
How many times had Cordelia paid the price of carrying the title of seer? How often had he and Gunn been patched up after a battle and a lucky strike? How many times had he nearly been killed? But this… he didn't know how to even begin dealing with what had occurred to Cordelia. There were no lawyers or monsters to blame, just a man without moral standing, a human.
Sinking down onto a chair at the table, he rested his elbows on the tabletop, wearily rubbing his hands across his face in an attempt to clear his thoughts of their building confusion. Why this atrocity had to happen to Cordelia he didn't know. The young woman had endured so much at the hands of others, when would it all end? He was loathe to imagine what the consequences of another vision would be falling so quickly on the heels of such a violent attack, all he could do was hope the PTB would hold back their messages until she had been given a chance to recover first.
He stared down at the book, the words blurring on the page as he watched them. His aching body cried out for him to flee to his apartment and the bed that awaited him there. His mind refused to allow him to leave the Hyperion until he had been given the chance to check on Cordelia, regardless of the fact that Angel was with her and was more capable than any of the rest of them to protect her.
Thinking about the way things had been twisted by fate's own hand since his arrival in LA, Wesley was struck by the notion that they were all without family… all except Fred at any rate. Angel's parents, his sister, were long ago food for worms; Cordelia's parents had spoken very rarely to their daughter in the two years he had worked with her, a single phone call was all he could recall; and Gunn's family was also gone. He himself had parents living in England but only spoke to them when courtesy absolutely demanded it. In one way or another, they had found one another and incorporated their own version of family regardless of racial differences or even life status.
How was it that women dealt with such horrific intrusions? How could anyone be expected to handle such blatant disregard for another's well-being? He closed his eyes against the torrent of questions that wouldn't stop pouring through his thoughts; a wealth of horrors parading across his memory and imagination. He still was unsure he wished to learn the full extent of the harm done to the beautiful woman in the next room. Some things should never need be explored.
Crouched in a corner of the couch, Fred watched Wesley as he fluctuated between anger and despair. Still unsure of what might be the 'right thing' to do, she chose to stay where she was, watching and waiting for some clue as to how to react.
All the years she had spent in Pylea she had never had to deal with anything close to what Cordelia was going through. Sure she had nearly been beheaded, considered a cow, starved… but at least she'd been left more or less alone to the solitude of her cave. Already unstable with the normal goings on of the world around her, she decided that being quiet, listening, watching… that was how she could be helpful. At least she hoped so. Watching Wesley continue his foray into guilt and despair, she wondered briefly how Cordelia managed to not only become a princess in Pylea after just one day, but also gain such devoted friends in LA. How was it that all these people were willing to see past the attitude and wry commentary to befriend her? What made her so different?
to be continued…