Part 2
Angel traced his fingers over the words he’d memorized the moment he’d read Fred’s note, silently repeating them until they were nothing but a group of sounds that ceased to make sense.
She’s dying here….
It was the truth, even if Angel refused to speak it aloud, he didn’t need Fred’s hurried note to tell him. He’d known it since the moment Cordelia had woken and turned her eyes away from her friends, no anger, no resentment, just silence.
She’s dying here….
Anger would have been easier, if she’d raged and screamed, he could have handled that, understood it, but not the silence. It had imbedded itself into the soul he’d sold to the devil for thirty pieces of silver.
She’s dying here….
He squeezed his eyes shut as though that would be enough to erase those three words from his memory, wipe it clean like the deal he’d done with Lilah, forget the pain in her eyes, the silence that had been more painful than a thousand splinters penetrating his dead heart.
When he opened his eyes the words still remained.
“Mr Angel?” a nervous red head who reminded him of Willow in that first year in Sunnydale tried to garner his attention.
His jaw twitched with tension.
“Angel, it’s just Angel,” he repeated for what felt the millionth time.
“Oh, yes, sorry,” she flushed, anxiously fussing with the legal pad in front of her.
“Was there anything else?” Angel didn’t try disguise the boredom in his voice as he glanced at his watch.
Two hours spent sitting at the head of a too big table, in a too bright board room, with ten humans even Angelus wouldn’t have even bothered to bite.
“Well,” the red started timidly because the vampire made her nervous, “there is the small matter of Miss Chase-“
“They’ve nicked the bloody DeSoto!!” Spike yelled indignantly as he stormed into the boardroom, glass doors rattling dangerously with his entry.
Angel put his head in his hands and closed his eyes.
This was worse than hell.
***
The food was far too greasy but it was served in more than generous portions, and for that Faith was grateful. The last few days had bled together into one long uncomfortable pain in her lower back and all she wanted to do was eat until she couldn’t stand the sight of anymore food, enjoy a couple beers, pass out on an actual bed and not think about the mess she’d quite willingly left behind her.
Or, more precisely, the man she’d quite willingly left behind her.
“I think I saw a motel a little ways back,” Faith said between healthy bites of her burger.
Fred nodded, idly stirring a figure eight into her coffee while her own meal went uncharacteristically untouched.
“Looked clean enough,” the Slayer continued, “cheap but clean, possibly one of those fabled motels where the water doesn’t run brown and the cockroaches pick up after themselves.”
Fred nodded again.
Cordelia pushed her fries around the plate while she stared out at the setting sun.
“You could grunt or something, let a girl know she’s not completely talking to herself.”
Nod.
Stare.
“Oh for crapsake,” Faith sighed with irritation. The loud crack of her hands clapping together made the two silent women startle in their seats.
“What?” Fred snapped waspishly, embarrassed at the curious looks the other diners where sending their way.
“If I knew you two were gonna be this much fun I would’ve stayed in Cleveland,” the Slayer wiped her greasy fingers on a paper napkin and threw it on her plate, deftly ignoring the ache that throbbed in her chest, “at some point one of you are gonna have to tell me what the hell is going on here.”
“I told you, we’re just taking a break from LA,” the Texan pushed her untouched coffee away, darting a glance at the silent woman beside her.
“Uh huh, but for some reason you calling me up in the middle of the night telling me to get my butt to LA as soon as possible, borrowing, and when I say borrowing I mean stealing, the bleached Wonders wheels, without so much as a see ya later to Angel and the boys doesn’t exactly add up to fun vacation time to me. But then again this might just me being overly suspsicous, prison can do that to a girl, but I’m thinking I’m being left out of the loop big time here.” Faith crossed her arms over her chest and waited for the answers she damn well deserved.
“I need to use the rest room,” Cordelia said as she rose from her seat and walked to the back of the busy restaurant.
“Well?” the slayer cocked an eyebrow at Fred whose gaze was fixed in the direction that the third of their party had just disappeared to.
“I didn’t steal the car, I left Spike a note,” Fred muttered distractedly.
“Whatever,” Faith rolled her eyes, this girl pissed her off worse than Willow did, “I want some answers Fred, and I want them now. I wanna know why Cordelia looks like the walking dead, why she’s barely said two words since we hightailed it outta dodge, why you flinch every time I mention Angel, and pretty much why the hell I’m needed here on this little Thelma and Louise jaunt across our great nation!” Faith’s voice rose to a threatening level, causing a few nervous glances to be sent her way.
Fred continued to stare at the direction Cordelia had disappeared to.
“Hey,” Faith snapped her fingers in front of the Texan’s face.
“What?” Fred blinked, annoyed.
“Look, if there’s something going on here I need to know-“
“Then you’ll be told,” was Fred’s terse reply as she stood up, “I’m just gonna-” she jerked her head towards the restroom then left Faith alone at the table.
“Oh sure, don’t worry about me,” she called after the Texans retreating back, “it’s not like I have anywhere better to be.”
The Slayer eyed the pile of fries that sat ignored on Fred plate and grabbed a handful.
“Just don’t be expecting me to drive off some cliff without knowing why,” Faith muttered and attempted to fill the void inside her with food.
***
Fred pressed the palm of her hand against the stall door, the glossy off-white paint shined obscenely under the harsh glare of the overhead light and made the young Physicist want to smash the bulb beneath her boot.
It was too bright, too raw, nothing could hide under it’s florescent glow, not the lies that had crept beneath her skin, not the betrayal that painted every cell of her body.
Not the sound of vomit hitting the toilet bowl.
Fred’s heart hurt for Cordelia, a sharp slice of pain that ached inside her chest, wrapped in guilt and culpability because the Texan knew she’d played her part in creating the ghost of the woman they’d once known.
Leaning her forehead against the door she wanted to claw apart with her hands until her skin was torn and bleeding, Fred closed her eyes and let the last seven days wash over her for a few debilitating seconds until the flush of the toilet signalled Cordelia had finished throwing up the small amount of food she’d eaten that day.
Fred stepped back from the door, straightened her shoulders and plastered on a smile that was beginning to hurt her face.
If she pretended everything was fine, then maybe it would be.
The door opened and the ache twisted and splintered.
“Hey,” Cordelia croaked and wiped the back of her trembling hand across her mouth.
“You OK?” Fred asked impotently.
Cordelia nodded and moved over to the small row of basins, gripping the white porcelain until her hands cramped because at least then she was feelingsomething.
“You’ll feel better after a good night sleep,” the Physicist said with such determination that it made Cordelia want to laugh.
“Yeah, sleep,” she muttered before rinsing the taste of bile out of her mouth.
The florescent light flickered and hummed above them.
***
“Spike-“
“I can’t believe she took the DeSoto! All those bleeding Mercs and Jags you’ve got and she steals my baby?!”
“Listen-“
“You ever been in a car when Fred’s driving?” The blonde vampire didn’t wait for Angel’s answer, “The girl isn’t even familiar with the term clutch control!”
“Spike-“
“I swear, if there’s even one scratch on the paint I will tie the skinny little bint down and-“
“SPIKE!”
Spike stopped his furious pacing and turned to face Angel, “What?”
“Shut. Up.” The older vampire bit out through clenched teeth.
“What’s crawled up your arse today?” Spike jerked his chin and cocked an eyebrow as he dropped down in a now vacant chair on the opposite end of the boardroom, legs crossed and casually propped up on the oak table.
“Feet,” Angel grunted.
Spike happily ignored his order.
Angel sighed wearily and let his head fall to the back of his chair.
“Why are you still here?” he asked the ceiling as though he were looking to the heavens for answers. Angel felt too old and too broken to be dealing with Spike right now.
“I figured we’d rally the troops-“
“No, why are you still here? In my city, my life? Why?” Angel fixed Spike with a glare as he asked the same question he’d asked every day since they’d tackled the blonde’s corporeal problem.
“What? Can’t a fella just want to hang out with an old mate?”
“We’re not friends, Spike.”
“No, really?” Spike snorted and rolled his eyes then stood and began to prowl around the boardroom once again, habit keeping him away from the early evening rays of light that bled through the windows.
Angel watched silently as the other vampire moved restlessly around the room, his nerves dancing on a razors edge with every step the blonde took. Angel wanted him gone, out of his city, out of his life, he didn’t care where he went, he just wanted Spike away from him.
Spike’s presence brought with it too many regrets and too much guilt, and he had enough to deal with already.
“So?” Spike turned to face him, “we gonna be all white knightly and go after the damsels in distress?”
She’s dying here….
Angel fingered the scribbled note in his pocket.
She’s dying here…and now I know the truth.
“No,” the brunette declared even as his heart broke a little bit more, “no, we’re not.”