Chapter 31

The doorbell rang absurdly early. The sun wasn't even up yet. Putting his arm on Buffy's shoulder, he assured her everything was fine and pulled on a robe to go downstairs. Dragging a hand through his hair, he started thinking of every possible obscenity to verbally berate whoever was at the door with. Thinking it was probably Will, having found another emergency that required assistance, Angel was surprised when he saw two uniformed police officers.

He listened for a few minutes before making his way upstairs and quickly dressing. Buffy was alarmed by his sudden movements, but understanding dawned quickly when he gave a brief summary of the morning events. She was up and dressing before he was finished putting on his shoes, and waited patiently for her to finish.

They followed the police cruiser downtown at a steady pace, but Buffy couldn't help but noticing Angel's pale knuckles as he drove. The steering wheel looked like it might come away from the dash at any moment, he was gripping so tightly. They drove in silence; Buffy knew Angel would not want to talk at that moment. He was too focused on getting to police station and hearing what happened to his son.

When they arrived at the police station, Angel was escorted to whatever room Connor was in. Buffy waited in the lobby. It didn't take her long to realize that she should the call someone and explain the situation, and tell that Angel probably would be significantly delayed. She dialed Will's home phone number.

He answered on the third ring. Will assured Buffy that he would be there to pick her up and to ask Angel what he wanted done. This matter was going to have to be handled very carefully, they both realized.

Not very far away, Cordy was sobbing into her pillows. She had felt the loss, knew it had been coming, but still hadn't been entirely prepared. The Powers had sent her a vision, but her vision had been unlike anything she had ever experienced. It wasn't a call to help someone; it had been a warning to stay away.

Being forced to stay her hand, she had paced since very early in the morning. Constantly looking at the clock on the wall had made her wince. She knew the moment it happened, and she felt the pain of the people she loved. This was her punishment, she thought, to be impotent to save lives.

Her fists came down hard on the bedspread, and she screamed into the pillow. Her muffled, anguished cries would be heard by no one, she knew. Her pain was hers alone to endure. Finally, when she felt all her tears had been spilled and she had no more energy to cry, she dragged herself from the bed and went into the kitchen.

There was no food in the apartment yet. Clothes and furniture were easy to get on demand, it seemed, but not coffee and eggs. Slamming the refrigerator door in frustration, she went to the bathroom and showered. The warm water soothed her aching eyes.

She toweled dry and dressed quickly, not bothering with makeup since she didn't have any. There was a driver outside her building, waiting for her at the curb, and he would stay there until she was ready to go. Needing desperately to eat and shop, she left her temporary home and settled into the backseat of a discreet black car.

Putting her head in her hands, she felt the credit card in her back packet bend a little as she moved forward. Sitting back, she reached into her pocket and drew out the bit of plastic. Angel had assured her that she would have no problems using his credit card. They went through drive-thru to get Cordy breakfast. She didn't consider fast food real food, but she was wouldn't go into a restaurant looking like a battered woman. Her eyes were red rimmed and swollen and her skin was blotchy from crying. She vowed that a drug store was the first place they were going; she needed to make herself look acceptable before she picked out area rugs and tea kettles.

She didn't languish as she normally would in stores. She chose kitchen essentials and a few decorations for the apartment without much enthusiasm. Clothing shopping exhausted her, and she gave up trying things on after half an hour. If the tag said it was her size, she bought whatever the tag was attached to.

A speedy stop at a grocery store was the last errand of the day. The groceries were in the trunk of the car, everything else she had bought would be delivered later that day. After arriving back at her apartment and helping her driver bring the groceries inside, she thanked him politely and showed him out.

A few hours later, after eating ramen noodles and stripping her clothes off, she stood naked in her bathroom. The sink was filled with dirty water and two towels lay on the floor, covered in hair dye. Scissors in hand, she went to work, tears falling silently down her cheeks as she snipped her hair bit by bit. When she thought enough damage was done, she attacked her head with a straightening iron.

The end result was a very dark haired Cordelia. Her once bouncy and curly bob was now straight and choppy. Dark eyeliner completed the look she was striving for. She looked harsh, like a gothic version of Victoria Beckham, she thought. Her tears subsided as she looked at herself.

Her body was no worse for wear, indeed, she looked as fit as she ever had. The Powers had known that sending her back in any other condition than battle ready would be unwise. Cordy couldn't remember a time she hadn't been able to get herself into the way of serious bodily harm.

Donning a pair of track pants and a sports bra, she left her apartment. Running through the darkening streets served to take her mind from the events she was sure had transpired throughout the day. She wondered would be a good time to reveal her presence to her friends. They would need time to adjust from the mornings' events, she thought. She believed her presence would only serve as a hindrance, and therefore she decided to stay away for a time.

She could live anonymously for a little while. And Angel wouldn't forget about her no matter how much pain and suffering he had to deal with. She was sure that a new identity would be handed to her in the morning.

She ran until her lungs ached and her legs felt like jelly, and then she ran some more. It was late in the evening when she finally stumbled into her apartment, hungry and sweat covered. Collapsing onto her couch long enough to get her breath, she wondered how Angel had dealt with his day.