1.
The drive to the resort was short; painfully short. Cordelia could not help the growing feeling of betrayal, of self-loathing. The farther she drove from Connor—from Angel, the more the pain grew. She felt that each mile she drove towards her "vacation" was a mile she drove towards abandoning the only family she had ever had or wanted. But, if she never got to her supposed happiness, then, she would never fully abandon or betray them. So, she drove, purposely making a wrong turn and heading north, up the coast of California, rather than south towards El Valleflores, Mexico. Few people knew about this place, and even fewer could afford to go. With five star hotels with world-renowned gourmet chefs and restaurants, clothing boutiques, and the most beautiful beach on the Pacific coastline, the place was heaven by any definition.
Life there would be perfect. El Valleflores, the Valley of the Flowers, even the resort town's name was perfect. Cordelia smiled behind the tears that threaten to fall. Yes, she had fond memories of this place. Her parents would bring her there every winter vacation, to swim in the lagoon, or walk the trails in the Valley itself. True, they would spend the whole day in drunken abandon, or bickering, and she would be given to her maid or nanny, but the place was beautiful, for those few weeks, she could pretend that her life was a fairytale, and she was happy, truly happy. She would be happy again. No evil lawyers; no monsters; no prophecies; no visions. Perfect and simple, just the way she always wanted things. There would be nothing from her life in L.A. Nothing in El Valleflores would exist to remind her that she was running away.
I can't believe I'm doing this, why the HELL am I doing this? Connor's my son, and Angel—he's my friend. I can't abandon them, not like this! I swore I'd never be like my parents… but, that's what I've become. I've run away, like they did. I'm no better than my mother. Her thoughts collided on themselves, each bringing up a painful memory. Her father's drunken tirades and her mother's cold eyes. I can never be what Connor needs. He had a mother, she killed herself to give birth to him. I can never EVER be that.
"Princess, is not this place we journey to in the south of this land? Why do we travel to the north?"
Cordelia looked at the warrior beside her with mixed feelings. Groo was everything she had ever wanted in a man—almost. He was tall, strong, handsome, loyal, intelligent—but not over-educated—brave, kind, heroic… She mentally ticked off each of his most redeeming and endearing qualities. Then she sighed inwardly as his faults quickly came to mind. Sure, he was brave and strong and heroic, he was a warrior; his entire purpose in life had been to blindly serve the rulers of his world and kill anything he was told to. He was like a two-year old at the table. Dating him was more like babysitting than an actual occasion of love. He could not dance, but rather, tried to grope her each time she got close to him. And under-educated? Ignorance was one thing, but the man could barely read. He was always looking for the pretty pictures and wondered what wizard put thoughts on paper. I know for a fact that he was nibbling at the corner of one my books on the way here.
She sighed again and forced a smile. "Oh, I guess I made a wrong turn. I'm not used to going this way—y'know, from Los Angeles? Usually, I come from Sunnydale, and the way is a bit different." There, he's dumb enough, the moron should buy that. "Don't worry, Groo, things'll be better when we get there. You'll see."
Groo smiled in expectation, his dim, innocent eyes, glowing with childish light. "And, will you be able to finally love me in this Valley of the Flowers?"
Damnit, the dolt actually caught on. Wait, Cordy, get a hold of yourself! This is GROO! Super-stud extraordinaire! He's everything you've—never wanted. Don't even kid yourself, kid. Queen C has always known what she wanted. Want. Take. Have. That was what Faith said to Buffy; little did they know you'd been living that philosophy for years. You know what you want, so why don't you take it?
Tires squealed as Cordelia made a sharp u-turn and sped down the road towards her vacation.
No! I refuse to think about that. He belongs to someone else. I have my own stud. My own man who will do everything I ask and more. He exists for me. FOR ME! He'll never make me cry, and he will always be there to protect me.
She glared at the night road, burning holes into the black pavement.
Ya, and if I close my eyes real tight, and keep the lights off, and keep him from talking, I can pretend, just pretend that he'll be the one I want to be with.
"Princess? Will you love me there when you cannot back in L.A.?" His voice was sweet and expectant. He would wait for her forever. He would wait, like a lost puppy, for his Princess to say that she loved him.
"Groo, you big lug, I already love ya. You know that." She grinned despite the tears she wept inside. I can make this work. I know I can. I am Queen C. Want. Take. Have. I want normal; I will take normal; I will have normal. Her jaw clenched in resolution, as she turned back to the road. Normal, right, that's a half-demon warrior from a dimension of Hell. Normal is mind-splitting visions. Normal is not being grossed out by your boss drinking blood for breakfast
So, she could not have normal, big deal. At least, she could create the illusion of normal. That could work. Groo's intimidating enough to keep anything abnormal from my life, anything normal too. Besides, being half-demon really doesn't matter. I'm half-demon why should I be prejudiced against Groo?
She had tried for so long to escape the horror that was Sunnydale. She had spent so many hours trying to forget that she ever came from that hellhole. Now, she realized that she was Sunnydale. It was a part of her, and she would never leave, could never leave. She could no more be free of that horrible town than she could cut off her left arm.
"So, Groo, looking forward to this place? No demons, vampires, or prophecies for us anymore! Just some good sun, and good oceans."
Groo grinned at her apparent enthusiasm. "Yes, Princess, I am very happy to be going to this place with you. You will look very pretty with flowers in your hair, and we will Comshuck every night, for hours. I am quite experienced in this, and I assure you that we will be a very long time." His chest puffed a bit in pride.
"Well, that's good." The Seer rolled her eyes. "But, Groo, dear, sex isn't the only reason we're going on this trip. We're going for peace and just good plain fun. We can have that without sex."
"You do not wish to comshuck?'
"Well…" Her voice hitched in her throat as she searched for the right words. I want to have sex with… No! Stop thinking about him. You have Groo; he's all you need. "I just don't want to only have sex with you. I want to dance with you and see the sites. You'll have fun, I promise." Cordelia gently hugged the warrior's arm. "There's nothing to fight, but I'm sure you'll find something to do." She locked her jaw in that fake smile she used when she had a vision. The smile that said 'No, really, everything's perfect, pay no attention to the blood coming from my nose. What? My ears are bleeding too? They're supposed to do that, don't worry.'
Cordy's hand caressed the Pylean warrior's cheek. "Trust me, Groo, everything is going to be fine."
"I know Princess, everything will be fine, because you say it will."
The rest of the car ride was spent in silence as Cordelia Chase sped onward towards the Mexican resort town and the peace she hoped she would find there.
********
The first day at the resort was bliss. The sun shone on the crystal blue waters of the lagoon and the air carried the heady scent of flowers as it stirred the graceful fronds of the palms. Everywhere could be heard the joyous songs of birds, at once both filling the natural silence of the valley, and heightening it. The brilliant stars filled the night sky with their gentle light even as the moon's soft embrace cradled the vale with its cool light. She strolled down the paths of her childhood, ignoring the sense of abandonment and fear that drove her to these places as a child. Her parents were gone. They could no longer hurt her with their indifference and spite. Instead, she relished the beauty these paths opened to her: fields of lush flowers sprinkled with moss covered rocks and massive ferns; the dark jungle floor beneath the dense rooftop of leaves and vines, and the mist. Everywhere and surrounding everything, lay a thick blanket of flower-scented mist, shrouding the beauties of the valley from sight. It obscured the world from view, accentuating its beauty with mystery and romance. Long after the hot sun had burned away the pale mists, the scent of them still lingered in the air, and they clung tenaciously to the jungle roots and vines.
As Cordelia took in the sights and splendors of the resort, it was to these, the natural beauty of the Valley, that her mind her mind turned. This place is still beautiful. I wonder if my Temple is still there. Her thoughts shifted momentarily to the Mayan ruins buried deep within the shadows of the jungle. The temple was in advanced stages of decay, and had almost completely lost its control over the forest. Now, its mighty stones and walls were covered in flowering vines and soft carpets of moss. Trees, nearly five arms around stood proudly amongst the crumbled walls of the ziggurat. Yet, the structure still stood out amongst the trees, demanding to be seen and revered by all who walked the jungle paths.
And she did.
Cordelia, as a child, ran to this temple when her parents screamed at each other over bottles of bourbon and scotch. The temple welcomed her warmly; filling her with the love and acceptance she never felt from her parents and so desperately wanted. She created stories in her mind of the princess who ruled over this temple and valley. She was beautiful and wise and very kind; she had a hundred suitors, but only the bravest, kindest, and most gentle would be hers. They were sweet stories, full of happiness and adventure, created by a heart that had never known love.
Now, as an adult, she giggled and smiled fondly as she lightly tread the loamy paths to return to her Temple, with Groo stumbling behind her. Her Temple. It felt good to say that again. The smile fell from her lips as Groo took another nasty spill, this time falling face-first into a puddle. Ugh, he's from Pylea! How can he be so clumsy? This is, like, what his entire world was like. I certainly don't have any problems with this place. True, I know the paths by heart, but I'm not even making any noise.
"Groo, are you OK?" She turned around and gently helped the mud-spattered warrior to his feet.
"Yes, Princess. The forest, it is odd. It betrays my feet, giving me false paths to follow." He looked about the jungle with unease. "I do think there is something else here, some---spirit. I do not like it here. The forest, it is alive. I sense it."
"Groo, you're being a worrywart. Don't be silly." She placed her hands on her hips and grinned gaily. "C'mon, let's go back to the hotel. We can maybe dance and go swimming or something." She sighed at the thought of indulging in some selfish pampering.
She leaned into Groo's side, smiling as he quickly embraced her with his arm. "Why do you say this jungle is alive? It's just a place where I spent some of the happiest times of my life." Worry filled her voice, and her eyes peered into the jungle around. "There isn't anything—Hellmouthy here. Is there?"
"Nay, Princess, I do not sense evil in this jungle, only a… presence." The Pylean warrior tightened his hold around his lover. "Do not fear, Princess, I will protect you from all danger. And, I will bring you the head of the one who would hurt you as a prize and a sign of my affection."
"No, you don't have to do that, really. You caring about me is enough. Now, c'mon let's go back and dance. I could go for some major dancing right now."
They walked back towards the resort hotel, thoughts of the joyous night they would spend together warming their hearts.
********
Cordy grinned mischievously as she appraised her image in the mirror. "Damn, am I fine, or what!" Diamond earrings, thin gold chain lightly gracing her neck, brown hair drawn into an elegant crown at the top of her head, her long black dress was slit up the side, all the way to mid thigh, she was a true vision of beauty sure to melt any man's heart, even the frozen dead heart of a vampire. "Ugh, why did I have to spoil this by thinking of HIM." She sighed and appraised herself again. This has got to work. It just has to. I did not drive four days from LA to think about HIM. I came to get away from him. To betray my family. "NO! STOP THINKING THAT!" She cursed herself; tears coming to her eyes and threatening to ruin her artfully applied mascara. "Oh shit!" she cried and hastily grabbed a tissue to blot her tearing eyes. That's right, Queeny don't wanna mess up the make-up. The Bitch Queen must look her best; otherwise, people might actually think you cared. Her fist slammed into the wall, knocking several quaint pieces of the local artwork off their mountings. "Damnit!"
"Princess? Something ails you? What fiend assaults you!" Groo rushed to her side instantly, still trailing his suspenders. "I'll slay them, and bring their heads to you!" "No, it's ok, Groo, really. I'm just… concerned about Connor and Angel, and everyone else. I haven't heard from them in awhile… I miss them, and I want tonight to go so well." She sighed and drew close to him, placing a feathery kiss on his brow as she took a moment to peruse her date. He was the perfect match to her beauty. His suit was a rich shade of black that seemed to absorb the light around it, contrasting excellently with his brilliant white shirt and straps. He was her complement in every way, this evening, and they would look stunning beneath the ballroom light.
"Cordelia, Princess, my love, please, put these people out of your head." His hand rested upon her shoulder comfortingly, and she laid her head against it, searching for his comfort.
"I can't. I love h—them too much.
They're a part of me, they have been for so long. I've—known Angel forever, and I almost dated
Wesley…" She drifted off into
contemplation, only to be startled from it by an angry growl from the
warrior.
"He
DARED touch my mate!" Groo's eyes were
furious, thunder and fire broiled beneath the gentle blue of his eyes. His stance and appearance had changed. Gone,
now, was the gentle and sweet man that had comforted her not a moment ago,
replaced by a raging beast, a warrior that relished in bloodshed and sought out
the one who had touched what he saw as rightfully his.
"No, not your mate. Not then, at least. Groo, I was in high school, and that was nearly four years ago." She backed away from him, concerned by his apparent possessiveness. Great, I accept chauvinism from my boss—the sometimes-homicidal vampire—but when my boyfriend gets all possessive I freak. Good one, Cordy, way to stay 'normal'.
"Oh. I thought, that… now… uh… sorry?" He looked at her sheepishly, his sapphire eyes now quiet and calm. "I just hate to see you in pain, and those people you care so much for are hurting you. These visions of yours, they are killing you. I know this. You gave up so much to keep them, to keep these visions so that you can be with them. But, are they really your family? Are they doing anything to keep you?" His eyes shown bright in the soft light from the candles placed about the room, and his voice was fervent and strong. He stared deeply into her eyes, and brought her closer to his chest. "They say that they love you, but have they tried to contact you? They did not know that your visions were killing you, nor did they know that you were in so much pain."
"They…they knew that the pains were getting worse, and I hid…"
"If they loved you, Princess, they would have known. They would have known that you were dying. They should have figured it out. Wesley and Fred are quite smart, they know many things of magic and science; they should have realized that by helping them, you were killing yourself." He looked at her with such intensity that her knees buckled, and she fell against the wall, still firmly within his grasp.
"N-n-n-no please… Groo… don't say these things."
"They have made you their cow, like you were in Pylea. You serve them, giving them your body, your life, even your soul. Until, one day, you will die, and then they will find someone else to serve them." The warrior's voice softened slightly, and he knelt beside her on the floor, his eyes melting from the hard chips of ice they had been but moments before. "You are loyal to them and you are brave. I worship and love you more each day as I see you suffer in your devotion to them. You are so strong and noble, I cannot hope to be a better champion for good, no matter how many demons I slay, or quests I undertake. But, Princess, although I worship and love you beyond all beings, I fear that you do not know what lies in your heart. I fear that your devotion to them will be your undoing." Gently, he enfolded her hands within his and brought them to his chest.
Cordelia stared at him in unthinking shock, mesmerized by his heartfelt words and sincere eyes. Why can't I love you? There is something so wrong with me that makes me not love you. Is it the demon? Does it make me crave something that is dark and twisted rather than what the good feelings I see in you? No. I refuse to believe that, HE isn't twisted or dark, just…sad. Tiny rivulets trailed down her cheeks as she contemplated her feelings.
"I love you, I will never make you suffer or sacrifice anything. I worship you."
"I…I know Groo, but, I…" The rest of her sentence was interrupted by a wellspring of pain forming at the very core of her being and centering inside her skull.
She fell to the ground, clutching her head, the vision pain threatening to overwhelm her. Fire filled her brain and consumed her form in searing heat; it froze her blood within her veins and shattered her bones with its raging fury. Her nerves bristled and frayed, firing a thousand impulses in as many directions and she control of her body. She convulsed on the floor, her back bending backwards so that her head and feet rested on the floor and support the full weight of her body, forming a large arc above the Aztecan styled rugs of the posh hotel. Forth formed at her lips and dribbled down her chin, bubbling slightly as a tortuous moan of anguish tore from her mouth. Her eyes rolled back into her head, and her arms flailed at her sides in the air. She gasped for air, choking on the scent of blood that flowed freely from he nose and ears.
Cordy had long ago developed a method of detachment to survive the vision pains. Focus on what the vision was portraying, and ignore the pain. The vision was what was important. She tried to do so now and wished that she could lose herself in the pain.
Oh god… NO! NOT CONNOR, NO! Already, she knew what would happen, the knowledge imprinting itself into her brain as the fire seared its way through her skull, branding the knowledge of the vision into her mind.
Wesley, looking haggard and ashamed, takes Connor into his arms, intending to leave the hotel forever.
Wesley drops Connor off at the basement of his apartment and speaks with Holtz, hatred coming from the ex-Watcher in waves. He despised Holtz, and himself for what he was doing, but, it was the only way to protect Connor.
Justine slashes Wesley's throat, and takes Connor, leaving him for dead.
Holtz jumps through a portal with Connor to some Hell dimension.
Fire. Pain. Misery. Suffering. Punishment. Fear.
Emotions, memories, thoughts, all these and more ran through Cordelia's mind, branded into her consciousness by the Powers that granted her the Sight. She was powerless to stop the pain, to do anything but watch, as her son, her only son, was taken from her, forever by one of the men she trusted the most. His motives were clear and obvious, his soul and thoughts had come with vision, burning themselves into her as surely as everything else the vision had brought with it.
He was protecting Connor from everyone. Holtz, Angel, himself, everyone was a threat to this child, or so the prophecies said. He could not allow harm to come to such a sweet little boy.
The vision let go its hold over her body, and Cordy collapsed to the floor, crying in pain and heartache, and covered in her own blood and drool. She lay there staring at the bedside, not reacting as Groo gently cradled her in his arms. Two thoughts replayed over and over in her mind.
Connor was in Hell and he was meant to be there.
"Groo, I have to go." Weakly, she pushed herself out of the Pylean's strong arms, and stumbled over to her dresser. "I need to get ready… and change. I can't…can't go to them like this; Groo, start a shower, I need to get clean." She calmly took out her drawers and dumped them onto the bed. She moved as a marionette would, her arms and legs lifting mechanically by strings controlled by an unseen puppeteer.
"Princess, please, do not go to them. Stay here, with me."
"I have to go, Groo, he needs me. They need me." Her voice was blank. Dead. Already, she knew she was too late, Connor was gone.
"If you go, I fear you will never return."
"Groo, he IS MY SON!" She faced him, rage filling her voice and face, burning hatred and fury sparkling her deep hazel eyes. "He is my son, Groo. And I will go to him, I will save him. I owe him that. As his mother, I owe him everything."
"You did not whelp him, how can he be yours? You may care for him, true, but you have no real connection to him. They're using him to keep you their slave." His eyes widened in shock and his hand crept up towards his cheek as her hand connected with his face.
"I'm leaving." Her emotions threatened to consume her, as her betrayal and self-loathing resurfaced. I abandoned him, my son. I am my mother. I'm a shit-bitch of a mother.
The warrior nodded slightly, hurt and sorrow filling his eyes. "You will not stay with me. I will go with you, you will need someone to help you."
"No. You will only slow me down. Take some of my money, rent a horse from the corral. Meet me back in LA." Her words were clipped staccato punctuations of thought, without emotion or feeling. Logic. Logic would keep her together. Stop feeling, you know what you need to do. Do it. Want. Take. Have. Hastily, she wiped the blood from her face with a wet cloth, and changed into a pair of jeans and shirt. "Goodbye, Groo." She left the room, her eyes cold and unfeeling as she paid the bill for the hotel and raced towards LA, the car's speedometer pressed well-passed the red.