Waking Up From the Past
Chapter 1: Waking Up
by Hollywood Phoenix
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Premise: The morning after Provider, Cordelia has a massive headache. And *serious* memory flashbacks from her Btvs years.
Previously: Angel wakes up after "Provider" while Cordelia continues to sleep.
This chapter: The start of a plot. The entire gang is here, with our fave amateur vampire hunter and the brainy Pylean spending time together. And an appearance by the one and only "renegade" ex-Watcher, as well as our fave green Host. (C/A, F/G, slight B/A)
Spoilers: This chapter takes place after "Provider" but pretty much no spoilers.
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The Hyperion Hotel, January 22, 2002
Cordelia was dreaming pleasant thoughts.
She was following a notion, masquerading as a bright firefly. It was heading up a snowy slope towards a bright light. While she made her trek up the slope, she noticed the evergreen trees along the side. She didn't look back because she didn't want to. Or maybe she was afraid to, but she knew she left clear footprints in her path.
As she got closer, to wherever it was she trying to reach, she could hear the faint strains of a heavenly melody. She paused and squinted at the bright light. A form was developing in her eyes; what was it? A dark shadow towered above her, scraping the endless light blue sky. It was... a castle. She trudged on, the fluffy white snow gradually getting icier as the slope got steeper.
As her path gradually got harder to tread, she started feeling a greater urgency to get to the castle and its encompassing angelic music. Just as she approached the haven offered by the castle, she suddenly slipped and unable to keep her footing, began sliding. As she slid, a myriad of images bombarded her. A sunny day at Sunnydale High. Legions of faceless Cordettes at cheerleading practice. Giles holding council with the Scooby gang in the library. Spike driving in a classic 1958 Dodge Desoto FireFlite. Harmony throwing pitying looks at her and Xander. Xander and Willow locking lips. Buffy...
And that's when she woke up with a gasp.
Disoriented, she opened her eyes, rolled over and immediately realized that she wasn't in her own bed, or even her own home. A little startled, but not frightened, she sat up and looked around at her surroundings. When she saw that she was on Angel's bed, she breathed a sigh of relief and flopped down on her back again.
Gazing at the ceiling in the dim room, she tried to remember why she'd fallen asleep there. Last night, she had been feeding Connor and they had been lying in bed with Angel. She vaguely recalled a slightly incoherent and disjoint discussion with Angel about Connor's college fund. And a yacht. As her face scrunched in concentration, she remembered saying something about... did she really talk about chipmunk robots on ice? She must have been really out of it to say something as nonsensical as that; maybe she could blame it on too much hanging around with Fred.
Cordelia wrinkled her forehead; there had been something else. Her mind was a fog but she could almost swear she'd been climbing an icy slope to get to some castle, all aglow. Sitting up again, she grasped her head with both hands and winced. She was quickly developing a migraine to kill all migraines. For some reason, her brain felt like it was being ripped right out of her skull, as it had on her birthday.
She paused, trying to clear her head and frowned. The visions weren't supposed to hurt anymore because she was a demon now. Or, had someone forgotten? But, oh yeah, she hadn't had a vision; it had only been a dream.
Only, it had been more like a freakish horror story. Of what, she couldn't remember at all. If her current mood was any indication, she'd just experienced one doozy of a nightmare. Deciding that she needed to dig out some of the old pain medication, she stumbled towards the door. As she stepped into the hallway, she collided with something large and not very soft. Sprawling on the floor, she started mustering a half-hearted, indignant complaint but stopped quickly when she felt a more agonizing throbbing in her head.
"Whoa there, sweet-face," said a slightly lyrical male voice. Cordelia felt something lift her from underneath her arms. The disembodied voice continued, "Sweet-pea?" A brief pause ensued, followed by a less certain, "Cordelia?"
Cordelia swayed a bit and focused on the body the voice seemed to belong to. "Lor-Lorne?" she asked, tilting her head and peering at him with one eye closed.
The green, horned ex-Host smiled, but it was a grim smile. "Whooo, you gotta lay off the booze, hun." Then, a little more gently, he said, "Come on now. Let's get you to lie down in bed and rest those brain cells." Cordelia gratefully leaned on his profferred arm and headed back into the room. Lorne moved slowly and soothingly said, "Now, if you wait here, we'll just get Angel to come up..."
"No!" the force of her own exclamation startled her, but she was glad to see that it was shaking herself of the mind fog. "No," she repeated more calmly. "Angel doesn't need to know about this. Lorne, I mean it." she said firmly as she saw the demon open his mouth to protest.
"Don't you think Angel would want to know?" Lorne asked gently. "Of course he would. You know that you and the little tyke mean the world to him. If something's bothering you, he would need to know. You shouldn't keep the hurt from him anymore."
"I said no," Cordelia cut in, determinedly. "I saw how worried Angel was on my birthday. I know the lengths that Angel went to take away the pain. But I'm fixed now. The Powers that Be demonized and fixed me. I'm okay. I can do this. Besides, " Cordelia pointed out rationally, "Connor should be his number one concern now. He shouldn't have to worry about the rest of us. Least of all, his Seer." She smiled widely, thought not convincingly, for Lorne's benefit. "See, I'm all better."
Lorne sighed, feeling like a redundant counselor. So much for keeping the lines of communication wide open. This whole recurring theme was getting pretty tiresome but obviously no one was listening. He would never understand these strange creatures he was spending so much time with. "Okay. But you're getting this checked out by real professionals, alright?" he said sternly. Or as sternly as Lorne could make it sound.
Cordelia took a deep breath and nodded. Then she cautiously went downstairs into the lobby. No one was around so she headed for the hotel doors. Just as she was about to escape, Angel entered the lobby, carrying Connor.
"Good morning, sunshine!" he called out to her, cheerfully. Cordelia turned, too preoccupied with maintaining her calm facade to be shocked by the carefree greeting from a normally broody Angel. Focusing her attention, her mind registered that she should be even more surprised that Angel had foregone his usual black attire for a beige shirt and an equally light pair of beige pants.
Without prompting from her.
"And still looking really hot." she added in her mind. She would have reflected on that thought a bit more if it wasn't for intense hammering to her brain. All she could really think of at that moment was getting out before Angel noticed her rapidly slipping composure.
"So, you gonna eat breakfast with us or what?" he asked casually, as he sat on the sofa and set Connor down on one knee.
Before Cordelia could even consider using an excuse, Wesley walked in. Taking advantage of the distraction, she smiled brightly and quickly said, "Uh, actually I feel kinda grubby. So I think I'll call in a bath date with my trusty ghost and loofah." Dismayed at the words that came out and the expression on Wesley's face, she stuttered, giggling slightly, "Oh...uh...I think that came out wrong." With a hasty goodbye, she turned on her heel and nearly tripped out of the hotel.
Wesley stared at her with a puzzled look. He swiveled back, saying, "I don't think I've ever seen Cordy so...wrinkly... or wear the same clothes twice in a r-" and then stopped, upon seeing Angel's pained look. The English man grimaced in sympathy, his mouth rounding into a silent "oh." Deciding not to comment on Angel's light attire, as the vampire seemed, otherwise, his usual self, Wesley silently proceeded towards the sanctity of his office.
Angel continued to stare at the double doors of the Hyperion. He felt frustrated. Rejected. Connor started fussing, so he absentmindedly lifted his son to his chest as he replayed the last few minutes when Cordy had practically run out the door. What had he done wrong this time? She had never before seemed more anxious to leave his presence. It almost certainly had something to do with their having fallen asleep together and spending the night sleeping in his bed. He looked down at his outfit, feeling faintly ridiculous, and felt the urge to fall back on his old habits; to lock himself in his room and muse in the dark over the past several hours. With sudden insight, he growled, recalling her pale, drawn face and the dark shadows circling underneath her eyes. She hadn't looked like that since her visions had stopped hurting her. With a glower, he spoke aloud, to no one in particular, "She's hiding it from me again."
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A Diner, January 22, 2002
At a local diner, not far from the Hyperion, Fred and Gunn sat opposite each other, enjoying a satisfying, if not healthy, breakfast. The tall vampire hunter watched, immensely amused, as his brown-haired companion wolfed down her second plate of pancakes.
"Say, girl, you trying for thirds?" he asked teasingly, as she finished the last bite. She lifted her head at him, her doe brown eyes wide and quizzical. Then she looked down and saw that his first plate was still heaping with scrambled eggs and sausages.
"Oh, I think I might be done." she replied shyly, ducking her head sideways.
The embarrassment appparent on her face suddenly reminded Gunn of the innocence his sister had possessed when she'd been younger. Before the whole vampire hunting and killing had started; when she had still been alive. He pushed the depressing memories out of his head and returned his attention to the young woman sitting opposite him.
"Hey," he said, patting her slender hand. "I was just teasing, you know. 'Sides, I like seeing a girl with a healthy appetite like yours. Most girls, they'd be pecking their food like they're birds or something. It's refreshing to see a girl enjoying a fine meal... Not that you need to worry about nothing." he added, acknowledging her candle-slim frame.
"Actually, I think it's cuz my metabolism is super efficient so everything I eat just burns away. When I was younger, I used to calculate the calories I burned and figured how much I needed to eat to keep my energy up. I have to eat a lot or I get really lethargic and -," Fred broke off, as she saw Gunn shaking his head and grinning from ear-to-ear. "I'm babbling again, aren't I? I can't seem to stop talking sometimes..." She trailed off, nervously looking down.
"Hey," Gunn said again, this time more soothingly. "I like hearing you talk. You're not like most girls who just obsess about the way they look. You think about more important things, smart stuff." He paused as he observed a big smile creep up on Fred's face. "You're one of a kind, Fred." He said softly. "And I think that's real cool."
Fred blushed at the compliment and focused on his plate again. "Are you gonna finish that?" she blurted out. When she realized what she just said, she shut her mouth quickly. Why had she said that? She hadn't known what to say so she just said the first thing that came to mind. Why couldn't it have been a simple 'Thank you'? She had never been a connoisseur at social and conversational skills, and five years away from human civilization hadn't helped. However, she thought she had been improving as of late, since she had emerged from her timid shell. Instead, she was scaring off perfectly nice guys. Mentally scolding herself, she squirmed in her seat and started chewing on her lower lip. He would probably never want to eat with her again.
Only, he surprised her by pushing the plate to the center of the table between them. "Yeah," he replied, with a twinkle in his eyes, "But only if you help me." She looked up again and marveled at the fact that she hadn't frightened him away. They exchanged grins and ate in companionable silence.
That is, until a loud commotion startled them. Gunn craned his neck towards the noise while Fred turned and peered over the back of her seat. A red-haired waitress with her back to them was gesticulating wildly and pointing to the diner's door. She moved to the side, revealing a blonde woman sitting on a barstool with crossed arms and an unhappy pout. When the door of the diner opened, the blonde woman flipped her hair over the shoulder of her leather jacket and said a cross word to the waitress. With a glare and the wave of her fist, the waitress left her to serve the new customers. Gunn got up out of the booth.
"Kate?" he exclaimed, striding over to her. Fred quickly got up and followed. The tall man walked around to face the woman on the stool. "What are you doing here?"
The blonde woman looked up at him coolly and seeing the look of recognition on his face, asked, "Do I know you?"
Fred watched a flinch momentarily pass over Gunn's usually calm face as she smelled the alcohol on the woman's breath. 'Who was she?' Fred wondered and placed a hand on his arm. "Charles?" she queried quietly, "Are you alright?"
At that moment, the waitress returned with a frown, demanding, "What are you still doing here? I told you to get out!"
The blonde regarded them carefully, then smirked. "So, if you know me so well, aren't you going to get me out of here?"
By the expression on Gunn's face, Fred realized that he didn't like her very much. He pursed his lips slightly before tossing a few bills on the counter and pulling Kate out of the diner.
Fred scrambled after them, taking one last glance at their unfinished breakfast.
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Cordelia's place, January 22, 2002
Back in the comfort of her own home and after swallowing a few painkillers from leftover prescription bottles, Cordelia let out a serene sigh. Languidly leaning back in her bath tub, she swiped at the bath bubbles that were practically spilling over the sides. While she relaxed, two cucumber slices floated over to her and were deposited on her eyes.
"Thanks, Dennis." Cordelia sighed again blissfully, grateful that the pain of her massive migraine had finally subsided. She'd been slightly worried about taking her old medication again, but now that she felt more like her normal self, she let the worries slide away. She felt a breeze leave the bathroom and heard the door close shut, signalling that the ghost had left the bathroom.
All alone to reflect on what she'd been avoiding to think about, she lifted both arms to the sides of the tub. She breathed deeply, inhaling the smell of lavender and roses surrounding her. Unbidden, memories of the previous night surfaced in her mind. She thought about feeding Connor and consciously decided that it was a safe topic to dwell on.
Smiling, she recalled how much he had grown and how he had the ability to twist everyone, including her, around his little finger, without so much as a gurgle. How strange it was that caring for him, "mothering" him, came so naturally for her. Sometimes, she would spend hours with him, watching his tiny mouth forming in little pouts as he slept, melting in response when his eyes widened with delight when she paid attention to him, and feeling his tiny hand tightly grasping her fingers whenever she held him. She couldn't help wishing, painfully, that he really belonged to her; that she was his real mother. But that opened up so many issues that she didn't want to think about at that moment.
Nope, not going there, she reprimanded herself.
Unwittingly, she started to think about when she'd gotten impregnated with a rapidly growing demon spawn. Granted, she wouldn't have lived, had she "given birth." Despite her relief over not having to deal with those consequences, she caught herself considering it. As well as how far off her life had taken her from the naive little plans she'd made when she had been in Sunnydale. What had she been thinking, 'home, hotel, hotel, husband'? Cordelia winced, unsettled by the turn of her reverie.
Alright, she said to herself, steer away from the depressing thoughts. Think happy ones. Think about Connor again. And her mind happily went back to thinking about her precious baby. He was going to grow up to be such a handsome little demon, so charming and strong. So like his father. Her thoughts drifted lazily to Angel and the previous night.
Okay, that was so NOT a safe topic. Perturbed again, she ordered herself to stop brooding about her "just-a-friend" and to ponder about other things. But it was too late. Like many times before, her mind refused to obey her bidding.
Maybe he was rubbing off on her.
Wrinkling her forehead slightly, she gave in and let herself remember how close she'd felt to him. And she had only slept beside him. It had been so long since she'd felt this close to anyone. Who was she trying to fool? It was the first time she had ever felt that close to anyone, period. She had never had real friends before, at least none who truly cared for her well-being. And she had certainly never been friends, not to mention, best friends, with a man before. Especially not one as perfect for her as Angel.
There. In the privacy of her own head, she could admit that even if she couldn't act on it. And wouldn't.
For the first time in her life, she had someone who didn't objectify, but respected her; who cared about and protected her. Who let her be the mother figure for his child. And who maybe even loved her in a very platonic, "forever-best-pals" sort of way.
Or was it more?
Shaking her head, she told herself to end the wishful dreaming. He was her confidante, and to think of him as anything but a big brother type would jeopardize their current relationship. Plus, he couldn't and wouldn't ever think of her in that way. The temperamental situation with his soul was obviously the biggest roadblock to that ever happening, not to mention the fact that he was not boyfriend, much less husband, material. Regardless, she knew she'd stick by him until he experienced his shanshu because she had promised him.
Only, he had never made the promise to stay with her. Especially not after he regained his humanity. Nor would she ever expect him to. She was well aware of where his heart lay. Where it would always remain. Without a doubt, as soon as he got the green light for a permanent soul, he would cash in a one-way ticket back to Sunnydale. And probably without even a backwards glance at his life here in L.A. with the team. With her.
Cordelia's lurched at the thought. It must have been the painkillers, she reasoned. She really shouldn't have taken the full dosage, since her body obviously wasn't coping well with it. What else could it be? Of course she didn't care whether Angel would stay with her or not. She understood his feelings very well. Ever since they had started working together in L.A. she always knew what he was feeling. It was always a given that he would return to the one great love of his life.
And the idea of that was almost more than she wanted to bear. The reality of it would mean that she would be by herself again, with no one to turn to. She would feel empty again, as she had for 17 long years. She stared at the bubbles in front of her, realizing her fatal mistake. Angrily wondering how it all went wrong.
But that didn't mean she couldn't let a naughty, unreasonable little corner of her brain pretend that it wasn't all that wrong. That the tiny glimmer of an impossible dream could happen.
Cordelia let the illusions roll over her. Why shouldn't she indulge a bit and delude herself that it could be real? That she could have him. That someone as wonderful as him would want her. She could imagine that his heart would do a funny flip-flop every time he rested those deep, soulful eyes on hers. That he would live and die and breathe for only her. Or that, the Powers That Be forbid, he could and would be in love with her.
Entranced, the minty fragrance of lavender travelled up her arms, stroking her gently. She felt it swirl around her neck, entangling in her hair. The scent of roses hit her senses and she envisioned rose petals falling on her shoulders, caressing her arms and her breasts, kissing the hollow of her throat. As they lightly brushed her lips, she felt the soft kisses and involuntarily moved eagerly to respond.
Her arm slipped from the side of the tub and splashed in the water. The cucumber slices fell from her face, uncovering her eyes.
The air was cold. The bubbles were gone. And she was alone again.
~~X~~X~~ * ~~X~~X~~
A/N: Going full steam ahead on this one.
Disclaimers: Nope, still not mine.
(c) February 2002, updated March 16, 2002
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