Part Three
Sleep didn’t come easily for Cordelia. It wasn’t the bed – she was surprised how soft it actually was. Angel had patched her up – chocful of awkwardness that had been when she was awake – given her a towel to dry off so she didn’t catch her death and one of his big-ass shirts to change into. When Cordelia had finally accepted her fate and lay down on his bed, he’d asked if she was okay. “Define okay,” she told him, not breaking his gaze, “This should have happened last week.”
“Last week?”
“Well, I could’ve spent the most painful part in a drug induced stupor… I’m thinking that would have been way more fun than this.” She curled into his duvet, closing her eyes for a moment. Her breathing had started to even out a little and when Angel spoke again, Cordelia jumped.
“Did you love him?”
Cordelia winced, feeling a bolt of anguish pierce her haze. “You have no idea how much I want to say no to that.”
“But you can’t.”
“Really can’t,” she sighed, remaining steadfast in her efforts to not look at Angel; she really couldn’t stand the look of pity on his face right now. “And I think that’s why it hurts so much, y’know? Of course, tomorrow, I’ll be angry.”
“Angry?”
“Isn’t that one of the five stages?” She asked, trying levity on for size ’cause the great sucking hole of despair was threatening to drag her under, fast. “Grief, anger, causing the cheatee unimaginable pain, shopping and then…ice cream? I should be over this by Friday, I figure.”
The corners of Angel’s mouth lifted in a sad smile and he pulled the blankets up around her, wishing it were that simple. “Get some sleep, Cordelia.”
She’d tried, of course. She’d watched him head out into the main area of the mansion, heard him start cleaning up even though he was totally trying to be quiet… And then she’d heard her cellphone. She’d closed her eyes at that one. Xander. Only about nine thousand times until the point where she’d been tempted to get up and stamp it into little pieces because it would not stop ringing. She figured later that she’d either she’d fallen asleep or Angel had done it for her – all Cordelia knew was that when she woke, his pillow was wet with tears and she was still curled in his duvet.
She didn’t feel like getting up, never mind making small talk with Angel. She felt burnt out, hollow, like all the energy had been zapped out of her and all that was left was hurt.
She heard a noise at her side and turned to look, expecting to see hulking manpire with his hands in his pockets and a look of sheer awkward on his face but all she found was coffee and a donut and a small sandwich.
Her stomach rolled and Cordelia turned away from it again, closing her eyes. At least if she were at home there’d be nobody pestering her to eat, to move to do–Well, something. Although she figured Angel’s brand of pestering was better than most.
She got up, aware that she had no idea how terrible she looked and walked carefully out into the main area of the mansion, finding Angel sitting by the fire. “Hey,” she said quietly.
Angel watched her for a moment, getting up to help her as she sat down. She was too tired to bat away his hands, settled instead for a glare which had less effect than it would have had earlier – say, yesterday. “I’m fine,” she told him, which… He didn’t look like he believed.
She gathered his shirt around her knees while he did the totally-Angel-thing of not looking and waited for him to speak.
“You look like hell,” he told her and immediately grimaced, leaving her wondering when her inate ability to speak nothing but the truth had rubbed off on him. “Sorry. That wasn’t very… I mean you look fine.”
Cordelia scowled at his crappy attempt at a cover up and shook her head, “What time is it?”
“Eight-fifteen. You slept most of the day.”
“I slept right through school?” Part of her was glad, actually. She didn’t think she could face anybody – least of all Xander. Or Willow. “I guess everybody’ll know by now, huh? I mean, when they’ve been telling people why I haven’t shown up today…”
“I don’t think they’ll tell them this, Cordelia,” Angel pointed out gently.
“What, that I’m currently hiding out in a vampire’s mansion? Or that Willow Rosenberg is a mousy fucking boyfriend stealer? Or that Xander cheated on me?” Her voice caught on the last three words and she looked down, pained. Cheated on her. Cheated! Not over the hurt enough to feel indignant or even angry, Cordelia glanced down at the hands that’d balled themselves into fists. She was hanging on by a thread, trying not to lose it again. After everything Angel had done for her – and she’d admit, it’d been a lot – he didn’t need to see her fall apart too.
“All of the above,” said Angel, watching her. A total opposite to the determined Cordelia of last night, this one looked deflated, almost. “I’m sorry.”
And there again with the pity. Cordelia made a face at that. She could face most things dead on; had been doing it most of her life, was damn good at it, but this… “I keep going over it all in my head. Everything that’s happened in the last few days, everything they’ve said. I keep… Dissecting it. And, y’know, it occurs to me that the only one not hiding anything – at least, before last night – was Buffy. And you.”
That made him frown. They’d established last night that he didn’t owe her anything but her barb about acting human 95% of the time had struck a chord somewhere, “Sorry.”
Cordelia sighed, trying to look like she cared about his self-flagellating as she pointed out the insanely obvious, “You didn’t cheat on me.”
“I didn’t,” Angel agreed, “but I knew about it. I just thought–“
“What I didn’t know couldn’t hurt me?” She ventured, thinking about that for a moment. “I wish I didn’t.” She honestly wished she could go back to last night and have this not be happening. To her stupid dinner party where, okay, it hadn’t been great… But it had been better than this, hadn’t it? Cordelia shook her head, officially tired of thinking about all of this. “Oz isn’t gigging with the Dingoes, is he?” She asked after a moment.
Angel shook his head, “I don’t think so. The night you fell…”
Cordelia arched an eyebrow. “The night I fell what?”
“Oz saw them.”
She blinked, “He saw…Oh.” He’d seen Xander and Willow, presumably. Locking lips. Or…God, she did not want to think of that or. “So he up and left?”
She wondered then if maybe she should do that; give in to the urge to pack a bag and get the hell out of Sunnydale. It’d worked for Oz, maybe it could work for her too – it wasn’t like she couldn’t get the money together or anything. “Maybe I’ll do that,” she said quietly.
Angel looked at her. “You can’t run forever. Sooner or later you’d have to come back and deal with everything.”
“I’ll take later, thanks,” she told him, thinking that she’d rather take never; never dealing with this worked for her. “I should go. My parents are probably wondering where I am…”
“Aren’t they out of town?”
Damn, thought Cordelia, only now remembering that guys who didn’t talk much tended to do a whole lot of listening.
“You probably shouldn’t be alone right now.”
Cordelia snorted, her pride a little stung at the implication, “Why? Because you think I’m gonna do something stupid? Hello, it’s Xander and Willow I hate, not me.” Her face twisted though because that thought really wasn’t true. Willow, sure, and if Cordelia saw her again in the next ever she was liable to scratch her eyes out but… Xander?
She didn’t hate Xander at all, the big dumb jerk. “Besides, don’t you think you’ve done enough for me?” She asked, really not meaning that as snippy as it sounded.
She gestured over to his dinner table and the absolute fail that had been her Get Well Soon party.
She gestured down to her stomach where he’d sat and changed her dressing twice that she knew of and not a hint of fang in sight and now he was offering…Well, she didn’t know what, exactly.
He thought about that for a moment. “I can’t help you out?”
“You can,” Cordelia cautioned, “I just don’t know why you’d want to.” And that, right there, was probably the saddest statement she’d ever uttered in her entire span of living.
Why would he want to help her? Turn back the clock to this time yesterday and she’d have been able to come up with a billion and one reasons – most of them amounting to the fact that she was hot and rich and…Okay, Angel had never noticed any of that.
Hell, last night and she thought that Angel had been doing this to try and get back in Buffy’s good graces only that hadn’t been it either.
“It’s not like we’re friends or anything. It’s not like you owe me. And even you with your brood-tastic tendencies can’t blame yourself for this one – it wasn’t you who was kissing Willow.” Though she sorta wished it had been. Hell, anyone but Xander would have done…
“Not everybody has to want something from you, Cordelia,” he said uber-patiently, which was about the time that this all started to seem a little too surreal for her.
He’d agreed to a dinner party he was clearly uncomfortable hosting, he’d done the whole comforting thing – hell, now he was even offering her a place to stay until her parents got home and, if she wasn’t reading too much into this?
A pretty large and dead shoulder to cry on.
She blinked, surprised to find tears blurring the edges of her vision as she wondered how in the name of hell she’d gotten so pathetic that the only person who wanted to spend time with her was a freakin’ vampire.
“I so do not get you,” she murmured.
“Get me?”
“Yeah. Get you,” Cordelia nodded, “No offence, Angel, but…It’s not like you relish talking to people. I mean, you look pretty constipated during most of your basic conversations…” She trailed off, flushing slightly. “And now you want me to stay the night? Another night,” she felt it only prudent to point out when a sudden thought occurred to her and Cordelia gasped. “Oh God, you’re not evil, are you?”
Okay, he looked less than impressed with that question. “‘Cause if you’re just keeping me here ’cause I’m easy food or whatever…”
“I’m not evil,” he said – and there was that constipated look again – “And, believe me, I’m not trying to eat you.”
Cordelia glared at him, “Gee, make it sound like I’m some nummy-treat why don’t you?”
“You’re angry because I don’t want to bite you?”
She thought about that for a moment and pasted a smile on her face. “I am really very much okay with you not wanting to bite me.” Though the likelihood was that if he did, she’d probably be dead right now. Or a vampire which was ten thousand times worse.
“Thanks,” she said, when she realised a couple of minutes had passed without her saying anything. Angel seemed perfectly content to sit in silence and though she did wonder why he wanted her there? It beat going home and feeling alone all by herself.
“For what?”
“Letting me stay?” She murmured, “The coffee… Everything?”
Angel smiled suddenly and Cordelia tried her hardest to stop thinking he looked kind of like a serial killer when he did that.
“Did you eat?” He asked.
She shook her head, feeling a little guilty as she thought back to the fact that both the coffee and the donut were the creations of the Espresso Pump, meaning that Angel had gone out of his way to get them for her. “Sorry. I still feel a little woozy,” she admitted.
Angel gave her a worried glance, “Do you need to see a doctor?”
“A world of no,” Cordelia shuddered, “but if you plan on keeping me hostage here, I’m gonna need my painkillers. Maybe some clothes.” Because, not that she’d admit this to him at any point, as comfortable as his overshirt was? There was only so many knocks to her pride she could take.
“You want me to get you some things?”
He looked kind of bemused at that and she had a sudden impression of Angel-the-Bellhop which she really had to fight the snigger on. “I don’t think you’d be comfortable rooting through my underwear, Angel,” she told him. “Maybe you could just…drive me over there?”
At least if he were with her she’d be less inclined to listen to the thousand messages Xander had probably left on her answer machine. And less inclined to go find Willow and punch a hole through her face.
She thought about how satisfying that would be for just a moment and realised that Xander was probably camped outside her house right now, throwing stuff against her window or something equally as lame.
“On second thoughts, maybe just the painkillers,” she murmured, not wanting to see him at all until she could safely look at him without bursting into tears. “Think you can do that?”
“You’ll need to invite me in,” he nodded.
“What, from here?” Cordelia glanced at him, “Will that even work?”
“I think so,” Angel shrugged, “I guess we’ll find out.”
“Seems like a wasted journey if not.”
“It won’t take long.”
Somewhat reluctantly, Cordelia let him go. She still couldn’t believe she’d agreed to stay here with the guy, though the fact was that this was the last place Xander would think to look.
She had no family in Sunnydale, he’d probably just think she’d holed herself up in one of the many unused rooms in her house and decided not to open the door.
She picked up her phone after Angel had been gone a half hour and after only a moment’s hesitation, switched it on.
There were 35 missed calls – each one of them from Xander – and a voicemail message from her parents in among the pleas from Xander for her just to talk to him, so that he could tell her how sorry he was.
She dialled her mother, her heart getting even heavier as she picked up on the first ring. Her Mom wasn’t exactly the maternal type; doled out credit cards where most Mom’s would’ve given out hugs (Joyce Summers, eat thy heart out) and yet she could still feel the startings of tears at the sound of her mother’s voice.
“Hey, Mom,” she murmured, her voice high and breathy. Her Mom filled her in on their Cruise-of-a-Lifetime – so spectacular, in fact, that she was utterly, utterly bored. It was almost an afterthought when she asked how Cordelia was doing and she had to swallow the lump in her throat.
Her mother had never liked Xander. Nor, in fact, did her father – Cordelia only stayed with him, at first, to piss them off and then…
By some small stroke of luck, her signal cut out and Cordelia was left listening to a dial-tone.
She closed her cellphone just as Angel skulked back into the mansion and Cordelia jumped almost three feet in the air. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” She demanded, hand over her rapidly beating heart.
He was clutching a bag of hers, she noted, seeing the sharp outline of the box of painkillers and – God love Creature of the Night guy – clothes.
Her heartbeat began to return to a somewhat normal rate and she took the bag from him gratefully, rummaging quickly through and popping a painkiller dry as he sat opposite her on the hearth of his big-ass fireplace. “I’m guessing my invitation worked.”
Angel nodded. The clothes he’d lifted had been from her bed – clothes she’d meant to put away that morning. There were sweats, a couple of vest shirts and buried underneath all of that? Underwear. Since Cordelia didn’t feel like dwelling on the fact that he’d been handling her unmentionables, she shot him another grateful look.
“I got food too,” he told her, “just in case you felt like eating.”
“Y’know, you’re actually pretty good at this for a guy who avoids people a whole lot and goes homicidal every once in a while,” said Cordelia, completely without thinking.
“Uh, I mean that in a nice way,” she was quick to add, though her mind boggled at the fact that his scowl didn’t look as scowly this time and that maybe he’d taken that compliment for what it was.
“Did I say thank you?” Cordelia asked after a beat, her voice unusually quiet.
Angel smiled.
—–
She’d spent the better part of three days slobbing it out at the Mansion. She’d switched off her cell after the last phone call from her parents, tried to forget all about the inevitable return to Sunnydale High where no doubt everyone would know what that loser Xander had done.
Not that it was her fault, of course, but sympathy in the halls of the school never had and never would stretch that far.
No, of course it wasn’t her fault. But Cordelia, official Queen of the Scathing Put Down herself, could just imagine what people were saying.
People like Harmony, Aura… Saying things that she herself would have said had the roles been reversed somehow.
She sighed, shifted a little in Angel’s chair, only just caught the look he shot her.
He’d been privy to a whole lot of emotions over the last three days – not least rage, sadness and her personal favourite? A crippling lack of self doubt in which she actually questioned her hotness, like Willow had anything on her.
“What?”
His eyebrows raised and he looked kinda deer-caught-in-headlights-ish, staring at her.
“What? ” She repeated, blinking, “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I—No reason…”
Cordelia huffed, “Whatever. I’ve been thinking.”
His eyebrows remained in their elevated state. Usually, when Cordelia thought? It meant an insult aimed in his direction. Not that he minded, so much. She was actually pretty easy to be around if you side-stepped the barbs and the company was… Okay, nice maybe wasn’t the right word. Welcome? New?
“I should probably go back to school,” she said uncertainly, like she hadn’t altogether thought it through but was saying it anyway. “I mean, as drab, dreary and depressing as it is here? I can get drab, dreary and depressing at school and still maintain my perfect 4.0-average…”
His lips quirked upwards in a semi-smile and he nodded, before going back to his book. “Okay.”
“That’s it?” She arched her own eyebrow, “Just ‘okay’?”
His smile didn’t wane, didn’t falter. Angel just shrugged and turned a page, “You’re not my hostage, Cordelia. And you have to face it sometime.”
She blew out her next words on a sigh, “Yeah. Guess so.”
——
She was dressed to kill.
She’d gone home for all of an hour to shower, change, and take some of her stuff back, dutifully avoiding checking the 84 messages blinking on the machine in her room. She hit ‘delete’, switched on her cell and sent a quick text to her parents to tell them she was fine (not that they cared) she loved them (and that was a bit shaky) and she’d see them in a week.
She went to school in the Corvette, dressed in kick-ass, dark-red leather that made her feel like she owned the place and walked down the corridor to homeroom; the first veritable test of her day.
Xander, Willow and Buffy were nowhere to be found and if she felt guilty about hoping they were dead, she really didn’t let it show.
She was greeted by Harmony, gasping when she took in Cordelia’s attire, and throwing her arms around a startled brunette.
Cordelia winced, her wound pulling, and Harmony stepped back, completely apologetic. “Oh! My total bad! Where have you been?”
Cordelia blinked. Harmony hadn’t been this friendly since the inevitable ‘you’re a Sheep!’ conversation and, okay, with good right too. Ho’s before Bro’s and all that crap.
“Uh. At home?”
“Not even!” Harmony frowned and wagged a finger her way, “I called you like 75 times this weekend.”
She waited for the insult, for the onslaught of ‘I Told You So’s’ that would honestly be the kindest thing Harmony could give right now. Nothing came.
“Aura’s dating an old guy.”
Cordelia blinked. Harmony had looked fit to burst from the moment she’d laid eyes on her but for that?! “I—What?”
“Like—An old guy, Cordelia. He’s 24. And studying to be a lawyer… Which, eww. Boring job alert!”
She tried to be interested, really she did, but in came the inept trio behind her and Cordelia sort of forgot to breathe.
“—he goes to UC Sunnydale. And he’s totally hot but—“
She felt Xander shuffle up behind her, knew that right now? He was palming the back of his neck, gearing up to apologise and she felt her heart begin to splinter.
She spun on spike heels – no easy task, ask any girl – and levelled him with a gaze so cool, she wondered if hell had frozen over. “Loser corner is over there, Xander,” she pointed snidely to where Willow and Buffy sat, having heard the entire exchange, “Run along.”
He winced at her tone but didn’t move and behind her, she knew that Harmony was staring at the exchange, mouth open. “Cordy—“
She squared up to her full height which was pretty impressive even without the spiked heels. “Get out of my face, Xander,” she hissed, “I’m not interested.”
——
She made it through first, second and third period without crying.
Lunch came, she rejoined her rightful place at the head of her former crew and all seemed well in the world until fifth.
Monday’s saw Cordelia with a free fifth period and she was so caught up in going through the motions of her day that she found herself wandering down to the library without thinking.
She caught herself right before she pushed the door open, spun as if she’d been burned and walked smack bang into Giles who was standing behind her. “Geez! Lurk, much?”
He looked amused, perplexed, a whole host of other emotions but behind that? Shone sympathy that made Cordelia’s stomach turn. Ugh. “Hey, Giles,” she smiled easily, pulling her mask back in place.
The sympathy didn’t leave. “I—Are you alright, Cordelia?” He began.
She held up a hand to cut him off, aware there was still, like, people in the halls and she did not want to talk about this. “I’m fine.”
“Only Buffy said that—“
“Giles, I’m fine,” she stressed, and lifted her arms up, ignoring the way it pulled at her stomach, “Do I look fine?”
He made a stammery, awkward noise in the back of his throat and Cordelia rolled her eyes, “I’ll take that as a yes. I have to go.”
“You weren’t…” He gestured to the door behind her.
“A world of no. I just… Forgot where I was for a minute,” she shook her head, about to sidestep him when Xander appeared too.
“Cordy?” He looked as surprised as Giles had and with good right. This was the last place any of them should expect to see her, she’d just… Forgot, that was all.
“What is this, asshole day?” she growled at him, made to push past him too when he grabbed her arm.
“We need to talk,” he murmured, and just like that? Cordelia forgot again. She forgot where she was, forgot her relief this morning that nobody seemed to know what Xander and Willow had been doing and wrenched her arm out of his.
“Talk? Talk about what, Xander?” Her voice was low and pissed but not low enough to not be heard by people standing nearby. Cordelia didn’t realise.
“I—I just wanted—I’m sorry…” He murmured, looking every bit as lame as she knew he was.
“Sorry?” Something hot and heavy burned at the back of her throat and she could feel tears pricking at her eyelids. She would not cry; not in public and sure as hell not over Xander. “You’re sorry?”
Giles had stepped off to one side, trying to usher them into the library, students away from the blow-up he was sure to happen.
She didn’t notice a thing.
“You cheat on me with fucking Willow and all I get is a sorry?!”
The collective mass of Sunnydale ground to a halt and there was Aura, right where she hadn’t been before. Cordelia didn’t notice. She was committing social suicide right in the midst of the domain she used to rule with an iron fist and Prada-clad feet—And she didn’t notice because the pain in her stomach had moved right up to her heart.
“I just wanted to explain,” he started again, putting his too big foot in his already too large mouth.
“Explain what?” She demanded, “What could you possibly explain that I can’t already guess? Or was it not enough to have me walk in on you two… Wanna twist the knife a bit further and give me some details?”
His cheeks flushed and he looked down, his guilt written plain on his face. “I-I never wanted… Cordy, I couldn’t tell you… Not when you were sick.”
“I wasn’t sick, Xander,” she snapped, clutching her purse like armour, “I fell on a rebar, remember? Risking life and limb to look for you guys back when I gave a crap.”
She hardened her heart and her voice, determined not to cry in front of the veritable loser-jackass-asshole that was her very-ex-boyfriend. “I’m gonna say this once and you’re going to listen to me. I want you to leave me alone. Stop calling. Stop texting. And stop trying to fucking apologize, I’m not interested.”
He opened his mouth to say something—anything—and closed it again at the look on her face. He nodded, and Cordelia pushed past him, stopping dead in front of Aura and the smug look on her face.
Shit.
Suddenly? Aura had an out on the whole dating-an-old-guy thing ‘cause Cordelia being cheated on by that loser, Xander Harris? Was so much more Harmony’s thing…