Chapter Text
God, she can’t do this.
She has got to get out and get some air, got to do anything except stay here and face her friends and all their questions.
Lorne’s spell had worked. After the initial trip down memory lane, it had done exactly what it was supposed to. Her memories are back, which, yeah, in the grand scheme of things, is a good thing. Only now she has to deal with what that means.
So she does the only thing she can think of: she runs.
“Cordy, wait,” Angel says, his voice breaking the silence, arms stretched out in an aborted movement to go after her.
Fred holds him back.
“Angel, maybe we should give her some space, y’know,” she tries. “Give her a chance to adjust.”
Gunn’s voice joins in from behind, “Yeah, I mean, going from amnesia girl to Barbie is hard enough. Add teenage Cordy to the mix and you get a whole lotta confusion.”
They’ve got a point, thinks Angel, but right now, every fibre of him is fighting to chase after Cordelia and make sure she’s alright. Everything can go back to normal now. There’ll be no more brush-offs and misunderstandings, not with the real Cordy’s back.
He takes off.
Being a vampire sure has its perks, he thinks as he searches the corridors, his nose picking up Cordelia’s perfume and following the scent. Huh, she’s in his room.
His eyebrows raise, but he fixes his expression before gently knocking on the door. Funny, he’s never had to knock on his own door before.
No answer. That’s—he can work with that. He knocks again, clearing his throat to announce his presence.
“Go away.”
The words are muffled and quiet; Angel would struggle to catch them if he’d been human.
“Cordy, let me help.”
A sigh comes from the other side of the door. He can hear her heart beating, the speed of it increasing as she stands and shuffles towards the wooden barrier separating them. He knows when she reaches it, yet she doesn't speak. He tries again, “Cordy.”
Cordelia takes a shaky breath in, “I—there’s so much.”
“You remember.” Not a question.
“I remember it all,” her hand falls to the doorknob. It doesn’t turn. “All of it. And there’s so much—I don’t think I know how to do this anymore.”
The last word sticks in her throat, swallowed by a sob that threatens to escape from her lips.
Her hand is still on the doorknob.
“Let me help,” he hears himself plea. He’s all too familiar with begging.
The doorknob twists slightly. If Angel takes a step backwards, he can just about see her through the crack, standing there looking smaller than he’s seen her look in years.
Fred’s words ring in his mind, and he takes another step back, providing space, if she wants it.
“I think,” Cordelia steps into the hallway, “I think I need to be alone. Please? For a while at least. It’s too—” She motions towards the door, “You can have your room back, I don’t know why I went in.”
He stands for a moment, the gravity of her words hitting him. He should leave, he knows that. Now isn’t the time for an inquisition.
“Cordelia,” he says, just one more thing. “Were we in love?”
A second passes. A lifetime. Then:
“We were.”
And with that she walks away, leaving Angel leaning against the doorframe, eyes closed, absorbing the two small words that hold so much importance.
She makes it three steps before her head hits the carpet.
Angel’s eyes snap open at the violent thud. “Cordelia!”
His hands find her shoulders, lifting her until she reaches the safety of his arms. “Cordy, come on, you gotta wake up,” he shakes her frantically, just enough to try and rouse her. “We just got you back,” he draws her in closer, “I just got you back.”
“Yo Angel, what’s with all the yell—” Gunn says from around the corner, his feet carrying him around until he catches sight of the collapsed seer in Angel’s arms. Then he stops dead.
“Wes! Wes, we need you in here!”
“Coming, coming! Oh—” Wesley stops just as abruptly, grunting as Fred stumbles into him.
Angel looks up and catches his eyes, “She just—I mean—we were just talking and she collapsed.”
“D’ya think it had something to do with the spell?” asks Fred. “Maybe Lorne did something wrong.”
“I don’t know,” replies Angel, “All I know is we need to fix this, and fast.”
Nods all around.
Wesley says, “Right then, I’ll go and check the books, see if there’s anything Lorne missed, some way to make sure Cordelia is alright.”
“Angel?”
Cordelia shifts, her eyes fluttering open as she takes in the scene around her. God, she has the worst headache. Well, maybe not the worst, not as bad as the visions had been before she got all demonised, but pretty damn close.
“Cordy, hey,” he runs his fingers through her hair, tucking a strand behind her ear. “Are you ok? You really scared me there.”
Her eyes flick to meet his, then swiftly move to avoid them once more. She forgot how intense his staring could be.
“I’m fine, I just—” a pause, then:
“I don’t know. One minute I’m trying to untangle all the memories in my brain and the next—”
Fred kneels beside them and places a hand on Cordy’s shoulder. “How about now? I mean, you’re still you, right?”
Cordelia smiles, “I’m still me. I think the fall must’ve sorted me out up there,” she waves her hand in the general direction of her head, “It doesn’t feel so busy any more, just normal, I guess.”
Angel doesn’t look so convinced. “Are you sure? I mean, you’ve been through a lot: becoming a higher being, getting sent back without your memory, finding out that vampires and demons are real all over again, not to mention—”
“Hey big guy, I’m alright.” She forces herself to look him in the eye, “I promise.”
He looks at her searchingly for a moment, then nods in acceptance, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. Reluctantly, he releases her and pulls them up.
“So what now—oomph,” the force of Angel’s embrace cuts her off, his arms wrapping tightly around her waist and pulling her in towards him once more. She finds herself smiling, the shock disappearing just as quickly as it appeared, and she raises her arms to drape them around his neck.
Head buried in her shoulder, Angel says, “I missed you so much.”
Cordelia sighs, basking in the moment. Angel hugs are all too rare, so she thinks it’s only right to enjoy it as much as she can. She finds herself thinking of the night they were supposed to meet up. She hadn’t been lying when she said her mind was all jumbled up just minutes ago. Before, the memory of the aborted meeting had left her confused, unable to separate the reality from what she wished had happened. In a way, she’s almost sad to lose the idealism that had come hand in hand with her confusion.
Stil, there’s no use dwelling on it now, she tells herself, just enjoy the moment.
Gunn clears his throat, “You don’t let go of her soon you’re gonna cut off her circulation.”
The moment ends.
Angel withdraws rapidly, panic evident on his face. He’s forgotten his own strength again, just like Gunn said. Sure, he’d only been joking, but thinking about it he realises just how tightly he’d been holding onto Cordelia. Shit, she’s probably going to have bruises.
Cordelia laughs, “Relax, guys, I’m fine.”
Angel looks her up and down sceptically.
Cordy tilts her head to the side, deep in thought. “Actually, it didn’t hurt at all.”
Gunn shrugs, “Huh, weird.”
—
“I got tacos!”
The team looks up as Fred walks through the doors of the Hyperion after struggling to open them, hands full of Mexican goodness.
It’s well past midnight, the events of earlier having shaken everyone up so much that no one is up for sleep just quite yet. In true Fred form, the Texan suggested they try out the new 24-hour taco place that just opened down the block. No one had the heart to tell her they weren’t hungry.
Cordelia rises from the couch, her arms stretching above her head as a yawn escapes her mouth. “I’m not tired, soooo not tired I swear. Just sleepy.”
Fred laughs and deposits the food onto the table. “Ok so I’ll put the chilli ones here, the carnitas over here, and the chicken over here,” she pauses before sitting down. “Oh, Angel I was gonna get your blood, gimme me one second.”
“Already on it,” Gunn walks around to Angel’s side of the table and places the mug of blood in front of him.
Wesley watches the exchange, thinking about how there was a time not too long ago when he would have felt comfortable doing such a thing for the vampire. Of course, that was before he kidnapped Connor. Things were looking up though, he’d helped rescue Angel from beneath the ocean and brought him back to Fred and Gunn when he didn’t have to. It would take time, lots of it, before he was trusted again. He knows that.
It’s still hard.
The clatter of cutlery on the table brings him out of his thoughts. Ah, Cordelia is having a vision.
Her strength continues to amaze him. She accepted the visions with such grace, though she was under no obligation to help. Sunnydale was a part of it, and the Scoobies he supposes. Perhaps she had felt the visions were her chance to be useful. Stupid, he thinks, stupid of her not to realise that she is needed for so much more than that.
“Cordy, what did you see?” Angel stands poised behind her, ready to help in any way he can.
“It wasn’t a normal vision,” she sits back down. “At least I don’t think it was. It was more like what could have happened, I guess.”
Wesley looks up sharply, “What could have happened?”
“Yeah,” she says, “I think it’s the PTB’s way of letting me know I got off easy. Either that or they’re just trying to scare me.”
Angel doesn’t move from her side. “Scare you? What did they show you?”
Cordelia glances up at him before turning towards her friends, “You might wanna sit down for this.”
—
“Woah, wait a minute, lemme get this straight,” says Gunn, head in his hands as he takes in Cordelia’s story. “You’re telling me some evil rouge member of the PTB hitched a ride when you came back from your little vacation up there?”
“That just about sums it up, yeah.”
Fred jumps in, “And she’s definitely gone now, right? I mean, it’s just you in there?”
“Yeah, Fred, it's just me.”
“But what caused this Jasmine to be expelled?” asks Wesley.
“Hell if I know,” Cordy shrugs, “I’m just glad I got stuck with this reality instead of the one showed to me in my vision.”
Wesley nods, “And you said she was just gone after you collapsed?”
“Yeah,” she replies, thinking back to how she felt in Angel’s room, “it was like, all of a sudden, there was room to think again.”
“Interesting, interesting indeed.”
Everyone is silent. Cordelia steals a glance at Angel, catching his troubled look.
“Angel?”
His head spins around at the sound of his name, “Yeah?”
“You ok?”
“Sure, yeah, totally ok over here,” he tries to inject a cheerful lint into his voice, but it ends up sounding flat and weird. “Cordy, could I speak to you alone for a minute?”
Fred and Gunn exchange a knowing look.
Cordelia rolls her eyes, smiles in agreement, and rises to grab Angel by the arm, dragging him towards the courtyard.
“You think they’ll be ok out there?” Gunn says to no one in particular.
Fred says, “I’m gonna go with yes. Although I’d be more worried about Angel than Cordy. She could totally kick his ass if she wanted to.”
—
“Angel?”
They’re sitting in the same place they had been just days ago, when Cordelia wasn’t herself and by extension neither was Angel.
“Hm?”
“You do realise that in order to talk to me alone, you have to actually talk?”
He has the sense to at least look a little sheepish. “Sorry, just got a lot on my mind.”
Cordelia huffs, “I know what that’s like.”
Angel looks at her, really looks at her for the first time since she’d revealed the contents of her vision. She’s right, she is sleepy. There’s the beginnings of dark circles under her eyes and her head lolls to the side like it’s an effort to simply keep it upright.
“What was it like?” he asks suddenly, “having Jasmine in your head?”
A shadow crosses Cordelia’s face, and her eyes darken at the reminder of her invasion. “It was like,” she takes a second to find the right words, “it was like she was there all the time, just watching, listening in. I was still in charge, at least for the most part. She wasn’t making any decisions.” She draws a shaky intake of breath, “It was kinda like my mind was a control room, and I had my hands on the buttons, but Jasmine was there beside me, whispering in my ear and guiding my hands,” she looks down. “She would’ve gotten stronger the longer she was there.”
If anything Angel is more unsure now than he had been before.
“So, when we talked—” he trails off, not even sure if he wants an answer to his question.
Cordelia looks confused. She stares at him, trying to figure him out until he sees her eyes flash and her mouth forms a soft “Oh.”
He turns away from her.
“Oh, Angel, you think—” her hand finds his cheek and she turns his head back to face hers. “Listen to me very carefully, ‘cause I’m only gonna say this once.
“Jasmine made me confused, really confused. From what I understand, she was doing her best to jumble things up in my brain, trying to, I don’t know, turn me against you or something,” she smiles a little, “Which was naive of her, by the way. There’s no way you’d get rid of me that easily.”
He smiles back; he can never seem to help it when she’s around.
“Anyway, brain all jumbly, yada yada, oh yeah—Angel, that conversation we had, I might not have been alone up here, but I was still me. It was still me who ran straight to your room when I just needed somewhere to be safe, and it was still me who asked for a little time alone to process,” she catches his guilty expression and hurries on. “It was still me who answered your question.”
Her hand is still on his cheek, and he’s distinctly aware of her heart pounding as he reaches up to grab her wrist. Eyes locked with hers, he lowers her hand and intertwines it with his own. He should really think of something to say, something romantic.
He lets out a laugh, “That’s good, that’s really good.”
Idiot.
Cordy doesn’t seem to mind.
She laughs too, the sound rich and loud, echoing against the walls of the courtyard and filling the silence. “I’m glad you think so,” she smiles, that huge open smile that shows her teeth, her tongue almost poking through the gaps.
Is this a moment? Does this count as a moment? He isn’t going to dwell on it. Instead, he drops his gaze to Cordy’s lips, still pulled up in a blinding smile, and leans forward, ever so slightly.
Another sharp intake of breath, “Angel, maybe we shouldn’t.”
He smiles, “Stop talking.”
“Ok,” she sighs.
“Angelcakes, have you seen—Oh sweet lord I am so sorry to interrupt!”
They jump apart, Angel cursing the loss of her warmth and Cordelia cursing Lorne’s awful timing.
“It’s ok Lorne, we were just—” Cordelia focuses her eyes resolutely on the ground.
“Really, don’t let me stop you, I was just looking for you, Brown Eyes.”
“Oh,” Cordelia brushes her hands on her pants and stands to face him, “Did you need me for something?”
Lorne laughs and aims a wink in her direction, “Not as much as it seems you were needed here. But no, honey, I just wanted to check how you were doing and apologise for the little mishap earlier.”
Angel huffs at the poor excuse for interrupting their moment.
(See, it was a moment.)
“Don’t worry about it,” shrugs Cordy, “I’m just glad to be back to myself,” she yawns. “Mmm, I think I’m gonna head up to bed now, it’s been a long couple of days.”
She starts to make her way inside, then thinks better of it and turns back around to face Angel, who’s still sitting down and is now donning his infamous brood master face.
She invades his space once more, leaning down to press a soft kiss against his cheek, just a ghost of a touch. “Goodnight, Angel.”
And with that, she leaves the two of them looking awestruck as she walks away.
—
“What time is it?” asks Angel.
They’re in the lobby. Angel, Fred, Gunn, Wesley. Not Lorne, Lorne’s still recovering from the mojo he cast. And Cordelia…
“About two minutes after the last time you asked,” says Wesley, not even bothering to glance at his watch.
“Shouldn’t she be awake by now?”
“Angel, man, you need to chill,” says Gunn, “She’s kinda been through a lot.”
Fred nods. Honestly, she can’t say she’s surprised that Cordy is still in bed. And besides, she likes to lie in on a normal day. It’s nothing to worry about.
She voices this to Angel, who smiles gratefully. Fred feels pride for placating him.
It doesn’t last.
“You’re right,” he says and looks back down at the book in front of him, eyes unfocused. “Maybe I should go check on her, just in case.”
The three of them sigh together, watching Angel climb the stairs up to Cordelia’s chosen room.
They go back to their research, something about a demon with horns that secrete poison, and Fred’s mind wanders again, thinking about Cordelia and Angel and that one Pylean word she likes.
Kyrumption.
—
Cordelia is aware that she should be downstairs right now. Sure, she knows the others will think she’s resting, and maybe she should be offended by that, but she isn’t. She’s neither offended nor resting.
Instead, she sits in the huge four-poster bed in a room she hardly recognises. Not because of the memory wipe situation, she’s so over that, but because she rarely spent time here anyway.
B.G (before Groo), more times than not, she’d end up in Angel’s room at the end of the day. They’d be covered in demon goo or something just as bad, and her eyes would be half closed already with exhaustion, and Angel would simply take her hand and lead her to his room. They’d take turns in the bathroom, Cordelia taking longer, meticulously ridding her body of any sign of the night’s activities, and then somehow, they’d end up in bed together.
The implications were there, but neither of them ever voiced them out loud.
B.G., they’d fall asleep with Connor between them, the picture-perfect family.
Only they weren’t. That was proven after Groo showed up and everything went to shit.
So here she is, in the grand luxury room that she chose for herself.
She’s never felt more alone.
“Cordelia,” says Angel, his voice carrying through the door.
She pulls the covers up, an automatic response that is obsolete given the full coverage already provided by her silk pyjamas.
Her voice sounds unused when she says, “Yes?”
“I was just, uh, wondering if you needed anything?”
“Angel, you can just come in. I know that’s why you’re here.”
There’s a muffled shuffling from the hallway. Cordelia’s mouth lifts into a smile as she pictures his face, all dorky and embarrassed.
The door swings open and Angel moves towards the centre of the room, hovering awkwardly whilst Cordy tries to hide her amusement.
“My God!” she says, watching as Angel jumps, “Will you quit pacing and sit down already?”
He glances around, clearly noticing the lack of seating options. Cordelia sighs. Seriously, you’d think after a couple of hundred years he’d have developed some social awareness by now.
She pats the edge of the bed and looks pointedly at him.
He finally gets the hint and sits.
“So.”
“So?” she mimics.
Angel looks constipated. And that’s not even Queen C speaking, that’s just plain old Cordelia Chase observing the constipated look on her best friend’s face.
Maybe he needs a little push.
“Whatever it is you came here for, out with it!”
“I just wanted to check on you, see how you were doing. You’ve had a rough couple of months.”
Understatement of the year.
“Rough couple of months is the best you could come up with? Hoooh buddy do I have news for you!”
“I didn’t mean—I wasn’t trying to—”
She takes pity on him. “Relax, Angel. I’m just adjusting, is all. Still getting used to having my brain back to myself.”
He shifts at the mention of Jasmine, even if she doesn’t say her name.
“I get it,” he says, “I just want you to know that I’m here for you. Whatever happens, I’m always gonna be here.”
Cordelia kind of feels like crying.
She smiles, even though her eyes are filling up and her head still feels sorta fuzzy.
“I know, and I’m so so grateful for that.”
He smiles back, but she can see it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. They’re pointed at her, clearly searching for any discomfort that he could help lessen, and she loves him for that.
“I sense a but,” he says almost teasingly.
“But,” she says, deliberately emphasising the word, “I’m ok, I promise. I know you don’t believe me and I know you’re all worried, but I’m ok.”
“Ok,” repeats Angel. “I can handle ok.”