A/N: Alright, I've decided that inspired or not, I've got to finish this thing. This isn't the last chapter, but it's a start.

It was only about a week later when the doors to Angel's office burst open to reveal yet another familiar face. Slightly heavier than before, and with an eye patch, but familiar nonetheless.

"Where is she?"

"Nice to see you too."

"Oh, please. I think we can both agree that pleasantries would mean nothing between us."

"She's in Glenview hospital. It's only about fifteen minutes from here."

Xander turned to go.

"Wait. Dawn's downstairs in the lab right now, getting paid for girl-talk. I'll buzz her and get her to call you a car."

Xander was already out the door, but turned back, and with something akin to a smile murmured a "thank you". He sat in the lobby, waiting, until a few seconds later a burst of energy (and shiny, shiny hair) threw herself at him. "Xander!"

"Hey, Dawnie," he said, squeezing her tight. "I've missed you."

"Likewise," she responded, pulling back and standing up.

"Whoa, Dawnie," he cringed, "what is with the..." he gestured emphatically at her cleavage-baring shirt. "I mean, I think that's a bit much, and I don't even have depth perception."

"Shut up," she glared at him. "I'm a working girl now."

"Apparently." he replied, eyebrows raised. "You're just lucky Buffy isn't here to cover you with an always stylish burqa." Dawn looked kind of hurt, so he quickly covered. "I kid. Buff's totally proud of you, if a little jealous. You're already making more than she ever did. Anyway, Deadboy said you'd call me a car?"

"Good Lord, Xand. Are you ever going to stop using that nickname?" Dawn said, as she dialed the phone.

"Don't count on it." Xander smiled. He didn't even realize that Dawn had become his friend until he wasn't seeing her anymore. He had missed her almost as much as he had Willow and Buffy. After she called for the car, she walked him down to the garage to see him off. He offered to let her come, but she declined. So that's how it came to be that twenty minutes later, Xander was at the door of hospital room 314 (of course it had to be 314), about to see a woman he hadn't seen since he was eighteen years old.

He took a deep breath, and pushed the already ajar door open. Cordelia was awake, sitting up, eating green Jello with a disgusted look on her face. He could just imagine the chewing-out the nurses would be getting about the state of the menu. When she heard the door open, she opened her mouth, about to launch into a tirade about how her taxes were high enough that she should at least be able to expect non-powder based food, but was quickly stunned into silence by the face greeting her.

"Surprise."

"You can say that again."

"Surprise."

"Not literally, dumbass."

"Hey, hey, hey, my ass is considered to be quite the intellectual amongst the ass community. At the very least, it's smarter than yours, since it would never be caught dead in some of the pants yours has been in."

"Is Xander Harris criticizing my fashion sense? I think the earth's irony supply has just been sucked dry."

"That didn't even make sense. Your coma's obviously put you off your game."

Cordelia was about to make another angry retort, but all that came out was "Your eye—"

Xander looked down. "I know. I know. Good thing I didn't have it high school or you'd have been dating not just Xander Harris, loser extraordinaire, but Xander Harris, one-eyed loser extraordinaire."

"Actually, I think it's kind of sexy."

"You're full of surprises, you know that, Cordelia Chase?"

"Oh, I'm fully aware. I think my favorite one was when Angel said 'Surprise, something's taken over your body for the last five years.'"

Xander moved closer, sitting on the edge of her bed. "Yeah. I imagined that'd suck."

"I don't think one needs an especially vivid imagination for that."

Xander suddenly grabbed her hand. "I missed you."

She finally let the tears fill her eyes, as she said "I missed you too."

They sat there in silence for awhile until Cordelia abruptly pulled her hand away, and said "Xander, can we get out of here?"

"Cor, you haven't been released yet. The doctor told me it would be at least another week."

"I know. But after?"

"That's rather presumptuous of you, assuming I have all the time in the world to wait for you."

"Have you ever known me to be anything else? Besides, I'm sure your exciting pizza delivery career can be put on hold for a week."

"Oh, like you're one to talk. 'Cause I've seen you in so many quality films since you went to LA."

"Um, hello, possessed by a demon, what's your excuse?"

"First of all, I happen to enjoy my job, which is not delivering pizzas, by the way. And second, I believe if I wanted to complain, I'd have a multitude of excuses, this being one of them," he said, pointing at his eye, or lack thereof.

"Like what?"

"You really want to hear it all?"

"I want to hear something real."

"I guess I should start with the most important thing. What has Dawn told you about Sunnydale?"

"Nothing! No one is telling me anything of substance. It's like they're all afraid I'll break or something."

"Well, we both know I couldn't care less about your supposed fragility, so I guess I should start by telling you Sunnydale is no more."

"What!? Start at the beginning."

"You got a few hours?"

"Do you think if I could go anywhere, I'd be eating this?" she replied, motioning towards the Jello.

"Good point. Well, here it goes..."

A/N: Okay, I know it would probably take longer than two weeks for a coma patient to be released from the hospital, what with all the physical therapy, etc. but I'm taking some artistic license here.