Author's Note: I apologize ahead of time if this chapter upsets anyone. I let my good friend, Moanda, read it and she got all teary-eyed and wouldn't speak to me for hours afterward. I will tell you what I told her: This story was meant to be Humor/Angsty. For ten chapters, we've had humor. And now it's time for a little angsty-ness. Chapter 11 was that way as will this chapter. But it will go back to the humor-likeness of before, I promise! :)
Author's Note: Moanda, if you're reading this tonight, everything turned out A-OK. I think you'll know what I meant.
_____
A few hours later, Angel wearily opened the double doors of the Hyperion and stepped inside. Lorne was waiting for him. Angel shrugged out of his long jacket and hung it on the coat rack. "She's here, isn't she?" Angel asked, not looking at Lorne.
"Upstairs with the prodigal son." Lorne affirmed. "Now what on earth did you do to her, shortcake? She was bawlin' like her cat got ran over or something."
Angel sighed and ran a hand over his face and up into his hair. "Caden's dead."
Lorne paused. "Oh. Guess that explains it."
"She hates me."
"And that would explain those dark spots in her aura." Lorne walked over to him. "I'm sure she doesn't hate you. I mean, why would she?"
"Because I could have saved Caden. I was there in time. I could have saved him. But I didn't." Angel lowered his head.
"Now, that doesn't sound like the champion we all know and love."
"I thought.. well, it just seemed like..."
"Seemed like what?" Lorne prompted.
"It didn't seem like he was the one who needed the saving. In fact... it seemed like he was the one who started whatever was going on. It was like HE was the evil one."
Lorne shrugged. "In that case, you did nothing wrong."
Angel shook his head. "But I DID do something wrong."
"And what's that, honey-child? Protecting your son? Protecting the woman you love? If I remember correctly, that's hardly a wrong."
"I did something wrong." Angel repeated.
"But what?" Lorne pressed. "If you're not comfortable telling me, you could always sing for me..."
"Oh, sure, why don't I do that? The perfect end to the perfect day!" Angel was beginning to get agitated.
"Whoa.. someone's testy." Lorne observed.
"It's none of your business what I did wrong. But since you must know what I did wrong, I'll tell you!" Angel paused, looking up the stairs. He lowered his voice. "I turned her against me, that's what I did wrong. I turned her against me. I might as well be Angelus to her." He turned and stalked upstairs.
"Where you going?" Lorne called after him.
"To see my son."
Lorne turned away. "Good luck."
____
Upstairs, Angel walked softly into Journey's room. Cordelia was kneeling in the floor beside Journey's bed, sobbing. Angel took a step towards her, but Cordelia lifted her head.
"Don't come any closer. You've done enough."
"Cordelia..."
She stood up slowly, her back still turned to him. Letting go of Journey's limp hand, she turned around. "Let's get one thing straight, shall we? We... you and me.. we're not friends. Not anymore. I'd quit working here, but since I can't stop the visions, it's pretty futile. But... I don't want to talk to you and I don't want from hear you. Okay? From this point on, you are dead to me." She paused, realizing her mistake. "I mean, your presence, who you are, is dead to me. For example, Angel who?"
"Cordelia, I'm sorry. I just-"
She didn't even look at him as she pushed past him to get out the door.
Angel sighed. He really didn't know what to do right now. Sighing, he walked over to Journey's bedside and sat down. He just sat there for a moment, staring at his son. Suddenly, he reached out and shook Journey-hard. "Wake up." When Journey didn't respond, Angel shook him once more and then, smacked his son's face. "Can't you hear me? Wake up! Okay? Wake up NOW!"
Realizing just what he was doing, Angel jerked back away from Journey. "Oh, my God." He looked down at the red marks his palm left across Journey's sweet, sleeping face. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He stood up from his chair and stumbled out of his room.
Downstairs, he grabbed his coat and opened the door.
"Where ya headed, doll face?" Lorne asked, coming into the room.
"Out. Watch Journey. Page me if anything changes." Angel commanded before slamming the door behind him.
Lorne rolled his red eyes. "Laconic today, aren't we? And he didn't even say 'please'." Muttering to himself, he went back to what he was doing.
_____
"Stay away from me! You LET him DIE!"
"We're not friends.. not anymore."
"You're dead to me."
Cordelia's words kept repeating in Angel's head as he roamed the darkened streets of Los Angeles. He was in a daze. It was like he couldn't believe the day's happenings. Like he couldn't believe himself. He'd betrayed his best friend and abused his unconscious son-and he STILL had a soul. It must be his lucky day!
Anyway, here he was walking slowly through L.A. without any real direction. He kept his eyes on the ground, and every subway train got his hopes up. His son was sick-and worst of all, his best friend hated him. Yep, he was just a-waitin' for an earthquake to come swallow him whole. Any minute, it'd be here to take him on his one way ticket to hell. Any minute now. He was sure of it.
Something just didn't make much sense, if any. Was Caden really a demon? He'd always thought Caden was different. And Journey had always sworn that the man was evil. So, was HE a demon? Was he evil? That would certainly account for the disappearing act he pulled. What was he thinking-pulling a Superman act like that? Was he wanting someone to find out the truth? "Sorry, Mr. Michaels." Angel muttered. "A lot of weird and unexplainable things may happen in L.A., but this isn't Smallville. A person just doesn't fly and the world not know about it."
And how about Cordy being married to this man.. thing? Had he ever actually loved Cordelia? Or had he just been with her to get closer to Journey? Angel wasn't sure on either account. But he certainly couldn't tell Cordelia that. For one, she'd never listen to him. And for another, it'd break her already shattered heart.
God, how he wished Journey was awake. He needed someone to talk to. He couldn't talk to Lorne, Gunn, or Faith, and Wes and Fred had their hands full with their own family. What's a poor vamp like him to do?
"Run around in circles all night, obviously." Angel said aloud as he realized he'd been down that same street nearly 20 times in the last hour.
Sighing, Angel looked across the street and saw the old Catholic church that was a few streets away from the Hyperion. No one used it for a place of worship any longer-the parishioners had left it years ago for a newer church. And so, the beautifully architectured building sat, all alone.
Like himself. All alone. Angel remembered back to the time when he'd considered the church as a possible new home/headquarters for Angel Investigations. He loved it-absolutely loved it with its intricate carvings and exquisite stained glass windows. Of course, he'd never be able to set foot inside the place-with all the crosses and all.
He suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to get closer to the sacred building. Crossing the street, he quickly closed the distance between him and the elaborate building. He was drawn to the building. And he wanted to go inside, however impossible that may be.
He stepped onto the first stone step, but jumped back in pain, as his foot sizzled. Bending down to examine the step, Angel noticed the tiny crosses that were carved at each end of the step. The same design that was carved in every single corner of the twenty-five steps leading to the doors. He stood up, closing his eyes, defeated. But despite his inability to enter the church, some unseen force continued to pull him in that direction.
Now unable to go any further, Angel fell to his knees in front of the church. Clasping his hands together, he began to pray. It was all so natural, as if he'd done this for 240+ years instead of killing innocent people.
"Lord.. I know that I don't usually pray." Angel started out. "Okay, so I don't pray at all, ever. I guess I've always just figured that you would never care about a filthy vampire like myself. But tonight, I have something to say.
Today, I lost my best friend. Because I didn't save her husband, which you probably already know if you are who they say you are. Anyway, I don't have a son today, either. You see, my son, Journey, is in a coma, and none of us know exactly why. But-" He paused as the tears began to roll down his cold cheeks. "But... I.. I NEED him. I need him now. If I can't have my best friend, can't I at least have my son?"
Angel looked up at the smog-filled sky. "Please, can't I have my son back? I know I've done a lot of bad in my time on this earth. And I'm sorry. Really sorry. I can never say that enough. But please, have mercy on me. Give me my son back, please. That's all I ask. Please?"
But Angel's plea would not be answered for 2 long years.
____
Angel quickly scanned the room for Cordelia. When he didn't see her, he hurriedly went to place the vase of a dozen Sterling roses on her desks.
Wesley looked at the flowers and then at Angel. "Angel, you know-"
Angel cut him off. "I know. But I can't stop myself."
Wesley could understand that. "Well.. good luck."
"Thanks." He heard the door handle rattled. "There she is!" Angel ran and hid in Wesley's office, leaving the door open just enough for him to see without being seen.
Cordelia entered the Hyperion quietly. She did everything quietly. She hardly said a word to anyone, save Journey. And Journey hadn't said a word in two years, so that wasn't saying much. She walked over to her desk, her head bent down, removing her jacket as she walked.
"Happy Valentine's Day, Cordelia." Wesley called out cheerfully.
Cordelia looked up, startled. "Oh, hey, Wesley."
"How are you feeling this morning?"
"All right, I guess. How's Journey?" She asked softly, placing her jacket on the back of her rolling chair.
"No change from yesterday. Lorne is with him now."
"I think I'll go-" She paused, noticing the flowers. "What are those?"
"I believe they're called flowers."
Cordelia gave him a look, before bending down to smell of them. "Oh, they're so beautiful!" She found the small card nestled among the roses and opened it. The rare smile gracing her sweet face faded as quickly as it had come. "Where is he?" She demanded, ripping the card in half.
"He?" Wesley asked innocently.
Cordelia shook her head as she yanked the nearby wastebasket from its position on the floor and set it atop her desk. She pulled open the top desk drawer and retrieved a pair of sharp scissors. Then, she grabbed the bundle of roses from their glass vase. "Are you watching?" She asked as she began to cut the roses into numerous pieces, making something that was once beautiful ugly as hell.
Dropping the scissors, she looked at Wesley. "Why don't you pass this message along to all the employees. I don't appreciate fake sympathy from a person who doesn't care."
"Cordelia-"
But she ignored him completely, spun on her heels, and headed upstairs.
Angel slowly came out of Wesley's office, his shoulders slumped. "I thought it would be different this year. I didn't want her to get nothing on Valentine's Day. It used to be her favorite holiday."
"I know." Wesley said softly.
"I thought she might change her mind about me by now."
"I'm sorry, Angel." It was all the old Watcher could think of to say. And it wasn't much at that, unfortunately.
Angel sighed. "Do we have any new cases to work on?"
Wesley put a firm hand on Angel's shoulder. "Angel, I really think you should take a break or a vacation---"
"I'm fine."
"It's just that you've had a lot thrown at you these past two years. Too much stress like that isn't good for a person."
Angel shrugged Wesley's hand off. "Doesn't matter. I'm not a person. I'm an animal."
---
A few hours later, Angel found himself laying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He wanted so much to be in his son's room, but that's where Cordelia was at the moment, and he felt he should respect and not intrude on her privacy. Suddenly, he heard excited movement down the hall. He was about to dismiss it as nothing when he heard Cordelia squeal, "He's awake! Angel, come quick! He's awake!"
TBC
Author's Note (again!): All right, I'll try to get out another part before my very hectic weekend and next week. If not, I apologize, and look for a new part the week of March 8th.
Author's Note: Moanda, if you're reading this tonight, everything turned out A-OK. I think you'll know what I meant.
_____
A few hours later, Angel wearily opened the double doors of the Hyperion and stepped inside. Lorne was waiting for him. Angel shrugged out of his long jacket and hung it on the coat rack. "She's here, isn't she?" Angel asked, not looking at Lorne.
"Upstairs with the prodigal son." Lorne affirmed. "Now what on earth did you do to her, shortcake? She was bawlin' like her cat got ran over or something."
Angel sighed and ran a hand over his face and up into his hair. "Caden's dead."
Lorne paused. "Oh. Guess that explains it."
"She hates me."
"And that would explain those dark spots in her aura." Lorne walked over to him. "I'm sure she doesn't hate you. I mean, why would she?"
"Because I could have saved Caden. I was there in time. I could have saved him. But I didn't." Angel lowered his head.
"Now, that doesn't sound like the champion we all know and love."
"I thought.. well, it just seemed like..."
"Seemed like what?" Lorne prompted.
"It didn't seem like he was the one who needed the saving. In fact... it seemed like he was the one who started whatever was going on. It was like HE was the evil one."
Lorne shrugged. "In that case, you did nothing wrong."
Angel shook his head. "But I DID do something wrong."
"And what's that, honey-child? Protecting your son? Protecting the woman you love? If I remember correctly, that's hardly a wrong."
"I did something wrong." Angel repeated.
"But what?" Lorne pressed. "If you're not comfortable telling me, you could always sing for me..."
"Oh, sure, why don't I do that? The perfect end to the perfect day!" Angel was beginning to get agitated.
"Whoa.. someone's testy." Lorne observed.
"It's none of your business what I did wrong. But since you must know what I did wrong, I'll tell you!" Angel paused, looking up the stairs. He lowered his voice. "I turned her against me, that's what I did wrong. I turned her against me. I might as well be Angelus to her." He turned and stalked upstairs.
"Where you going?" Lorne called after him.
"To see my son."
Lorne turned away. "Good luck."
____
Upstairs, Angel walked softly into Journey's room. Cordelia was kneeling in the floor beside Journey's bed, sobbing. Angel took a step towards her, but Cordelia lifted her head.
"Don't come any closer. You've done enough."
"Cordelia..."
She stood up slowly, her back still turned to him. Letting go of Journey's limp hand, she turned around. "Let's get one thing straight, shall we? We... you and me.. we're not friends. Not anymore. I'd quit working here, but since I can't stop the visions, it's pretty futile. But... I don't want to talk to you and I don't want from hear you. Okay? From this point on, you are dead to me." She paused, realizing her mistake. "I mean, your presence, who you are, is dead to me. For example, Angel who?"
"Cordelia, I'm sorry. I just-"
She didn't even look at him as she pushed past him to get out the door.
Angel sighed. He really didn't know what to do right now. Sighing, he walked over to Journey's bedside and sat down. He just sat there for a moment, staring at his son. Suddenly, he reached out and shook Journey-hard. "Wake up." When Journey didn't respond, Angel shook him once more and then, smacked his son's face. "Can't you hear me? Wake up! Okay? Wake up NOW!"
Realizing just what he was doing, Angel jerked back away from Journey. "Oh, my God." He looked down at the red marks his palm left across Journey's sweet, sleeping face. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He stood up from his chair and stumbled out of his room.
Downstairs, he grabbed his coat and opened the door.
"Where ya headed, doll face?" Lorne asked, coming into the room.
"Out. Watch Journey. Page me if anything changes." Angel commanded before slamming the door behind him.
Lorne rolled his red eyes. "Laconic today, aren't we? And he didn't even say 'please'." Muttering to himself, he went back to what he was doing.
_____
"Stay away from me! You LET him DIE!"
"We're not friends.. not anymore."
"You're dead to me."
Cordelia's words kept repeating in Angel's head as he roamed the darkened streets of Los Angeles. He was in a daze. It was like he couldn't believe the day's happenings. Like he couldn't believe himself. He'd betrayed his best friend and abused his unconscious son-and he STILL had a soul. It must be his lucky day!
Anyway, here he was walking slowly through L.A. without any real direction. He kept his eyes on the ground, and every subway train got his hopes up. His son was sick-and worst of all, his best friend hated him. Yep, he was just a-waitin' for an earthquake to come swallow him whole. Any minute, it'd be here to take him on his one way ticket to hell. Any minute now. He was sure of it.
Something just didn't make much sense, if any. Was Caden really a demon? He'd always thought Caden was different. And Journey had always sworn that the man was evil. So, was HE a demon? Was he evil? That would certainly account for the disappearing act he pulled. What was he thinking-pulling a Superman act like that? Was he wanting someone to find out the truth? "Sorry, Mr. Michaels." Angel muttered. "A lot of weird and unexplainable things may happen in L.A., but this isn't Smallville. A person just doesn't fly and the world not know about it."
And how about Cordy being married to this man.. thing? Had he ever actually loved Cordelia? Or had he just been with her to get closer to Journey? Angel wasn't sure on either account. But he certainly couldn't tell Cordelia that. For one, she'd never listen to him. And for another, it'd break her already shattered heart.
God, how he wished Journey was awake. He needed someone to talk to. He couldn't talk to Lorne, Gunn, or Faith, and Wes and Fred had their hands full with their own family. What's a poor vamp like him to do?
"Run around in circles all night, obviously." Angel said aloud as he realized he'd been down that same street nearly 20 times in the last hour.
Sighing, Angel looked across the street and saw the old Catholic church that was a few streets away from the Hyperion. No one used it for a place of worship any longer-the parishioners had left it years ago for a newer church. And so, the beautifully architectured building sat, all alone.
Like himself. All alone. Angel remembered back to the time when he'd considered the church as a possible new home/headquarters for Angel Investigations. He loved it-absolutely loved it with its intricate carvings and exquisite stained glass windows. Of course, he'd never be able to set foot inside the place-with all the crosses and all.
He suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to get closer to the sacred building. Crossing the street, he quickly closed the distance between him and the elaborate building. He was drawn to the building. And he wanted to go inside, however impossible that may be.
He stepped onto the first stone step, but jumped back in pain, as his foot sizzled. Bending down to examine the step, Angel noticed the tiny crosses that were carved at each end of the step. The same design that was carved in every single corner of the twenty-five steps leading to the doors. He stood up, closing his eyes, defeated. But despite his inability to enter the church, some unseen force continued to pull him in that direction.
Now unable to go any further, Angel fell to his knees in front of the church. Clasping his hands together, he began to pray. It was all so natural, as if he'd done this for 240+ years instead of killing innocent people.
"Lord.. I know that I don't usually pray." Angel started out. "Okay, so I don't pray at all, ever. I guess I've always just figured that you would never care about a filthy vampire like myself. But tonight, I have something to say.
Today, I lost my best friend. Because I didn't save her husband, which you probably already know if you are who they say you are. Anyway, I don't have a son today, either. You see, my son, Journey, is in a coma, and none of us know exactly why. But-" He paused as the tears began to roll down his cold cheeks. "But... I.. I NEED him. I need him now. If I can't have my best friend, can't I at least have my son?"
Angel looked up at the smog-filled sky. "Please, can't I have my son back? I know I've done a lot of bad in my time on this earth. And I'm sorry. Really sorry. I can never say that enough. But please, have mercy on me. Give me my son back, please. That's all I ask. Please?"
But Angel's plea would not be answered for 2 long years.
____
Angel quickly scanned the room for Cordelia. When he didn't see her, he hurriedly went to place the vase of a dozen Sterling roses on her desks.
Wesley looked at the flowers and then at Angel. "Angel, you know-"
Angel cut him off. "I know. But I can't stop myself."
Wesley could understand that. "Well.. good luck."
"Thanks." He heard the door handle rattled. "There she is!" Angel ran and hid in Wesley's office, leaving the door open just enough for him to see without being seen.
Cordelia entered the Hyperion quietly. She did everything quietly. She hardly said a word to anyone, save Journey. And Journey hadn't said a word in two years, so that wasn't saying much. She walked over to her desk, her head bent down, removing her jacket as she walked.
"Happy Valentine's Day, Cordelia." Wesley called out cheerfully.
Cordelia looked up, startled. "Oh, hey, Wesley."
"How are you feeling this morning?"
"All right, I guess. How's Journey?" She asked softly, placing her jacket on the back of her rolling chair.
"No change from yesterday. Lorne is with him now."
"I think I'll go-" She paused, noticing the flowers. "What are those?"
"I believe they're called flowers."
Cordelia gave him a look, before bending down to smell of them. "Oh, they're so beautiful!" She found the small card nestled among the roses and opened it. The rare smile gracing her sweet face faded as quickly as it had come. "Where is he?" She demanded, ripping the card in half.
"He?" Wesley asked innocently.
Cordelia shook her head as she yanked the nearby wastebasket from its position on the floor and set it atop her desk. She pulled open the top desk drawer and retrieved a pair of sharp scissors. Then, she grabbed the bundle of roses from their glass vase. "Are you watching?" She asked as she began to cut the roses into numerous pieces, making something that was once beautiful ugly as hell.
Dropping the scissors, she looked at Wesley. "Why don't you pass this message along to all the employees. I don't appreciate fake sympathy from a person who doesn't care."
"Cordelia-"
But she ignored him completely, spun on her heels, and headed upstairs.
Angel slowly came out of Wesley's office, his shoulders slumped. "I thought it would be different this year. I didn't want her to get nothing on Valentine's Day. It used to be her favorite holiday."
"I know." Wesley said softly.
"I thought she might change her mind about me by now."
"I'm sorry, Angel." It was all the old Watcher could think of to say. And it wasn't much at that, unfortunately.
Angel sighed. "Do we have any new cases to work on?"
Wesley put a firm hand on Angel's shoulder. "Angel, I really think you should take a break or a vacation---"
"I'm fine."
"It's just that you've had a lot thrown at you these past two years. Too much stress like that isn't good for a person."
Angel shrugged Wesley's hand off. "Doesn't matter. I'm not a person. I'm an animal."
---
A few hours later, Angel found himself laying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He wanted so much to be in his son's room, but that's where Cordelia was at the moment, and he felt he should respect and not intrude on her privacy. Suddenly, he heard excited movement down the hall. He was about to dismiss it as nothing when he heard Cordelia squeal, "He's awake! Angel, come quick! He's awake!"
TBC
Author's Note (again!): All right, I'll try to get out another part before my very hectic weekend and next week. If not, I apologize, and look for a new part the week of March 8th.