"Still no luck?" asked Gunn from the backseat. He wasn't really looking for an answer.
"Don't worry," said Wesley. "Buffy can take care of herself for now. You need to sleep--we'll be there in two hours."
Angel knew he was right, but couldn't seem to clear his mind enough to sleep. He looked into the back where Cordelia was dozing peacefully. It made him sleepy just looking at her.
"I'll try," he said finally. "Keep trying to call, alright?" He held the phone out to Wesley.
"I'll take care of it," said Gunn, reaching out for the phone. Angel willingly gave it to him.
After what seemed like hours--though in actuality it was probably only ten minutes--Angel managed to fall asleep. The dreams started again almost immediately.
It may have been that his mind was more alert to it, but the dreams seemed clearer this time. Angel was subconsciously studying every detail, looking for something to explain it.
First there was the black cloud. It didn't really look like a cloud--it was more like a pool of water shimmering in the air. There was a great power surrounding it, that was undoubtable. And as before, there was a flash of light and it was gone.
Then Angel was standing in front of the Oracles. They seemed to be beckoning
him closer, as if they had something important to tell him. It felt so
real.
Cordelia was dreaming. Like the last time, she was with Doyle. But there was something more to it. He seemed to want to tell her something, but in the dream he had no voice. He made motions with his hands, but she didn't understand. Finally, he gave her a reassuring smile that seemed to say "I'll show you," and faded from view.
She snapped awake. At first she was extremely disoriented. The dream had been so life-like that it took her a minute to remember where she was.
Something was out of place. Sitting in her lap was the book that had come from Doyle's apartment. Cordelia had brought it, hoping to finally be able to read it, but it had been in her purse. Now it lay open across her legs. She picked it up and began to read.
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there ... I do not sleep.
I am the thousand winds that blow ....
I am the diamond glints on snow ....
I am the sunlight on ripened grain ....
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you waken in the morning's hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of gentle birds in circling flight ....
I am the soft star that shines at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry--
I am not there ... I did not die.
Cordelia gasped, and Angel turned around and looked at her. He had obviously just woken up himself.
"The dreams are getting clearer," he said matter-of-factly. "Whatever it is, it's close."
"I- I dreamt-" she stuttered, unable to believe what was going on in her head. "He was trying to tell me-" Finally she stopped and handed Angel the book.
He read silently for a moment. After finishing, he handed the book back to Cordelia, still without a word. It seemed as if the dead -- but it wasn't possible. He didn't dare hope, and he certainly couldn't let Cordelia.
"This is getting stranger," he said finally. "We've got to hurry."
Wesley seemed to feel the urgence in Angel's voice, and he pushed his
foot farther down on the accelerator.