Breathe Again. 8

Gazing in the bathroom mirror until her eyes blurred, Cordy thought about how weird it was that her life felt like it was slipping between her fingers and yet, the signs were almost none-existent.

Keeping it to herself had been relatively easy, considering – surprisingly: that there were only faint traces of what she was suffering below, on the surface. Her bottom lip pooched out. Though, admittedly, it often niggled that someone with heightened, preternatural senses hadn’t picked them up!

“Okay…. What do I want really here?” she asked her reflection sullenly, “Angel and the others being in the not-so pretty picture?  Or, wanting what had happened several hours ago, not to have happened — in front of him, at least?” Ack, she couldn’t think about that right now.

Pressing her forehead against the cool mirror, Cordy briefly thought about Wes sitting in the lounge, reading like a possessed being — he hadn’t stopped once since he’d returned half an hour or so ago; interspersed with the frequent questions of ‘how are you feeling?’. In the end, she’d escaped to the relative privacy of the bathroom.

As for Angel…. Never had she seen him so… driven — well, not since her brush with Vocah, anyway. All this sudden over-concern was driving her crazy. Too much, too late, in her humble opinion. The bridges were still in disrepair, and this couldn’t have come out at a worse time, a time when she really needed every single brick to her self-enforced walls.

A tired sigh left her drooping mouth. Letting the vampire back in could only lead to more heartache. If…when her vision problems were dealt with one way or another, how long would it take Angel to go back to the way it was?

When he’d fired them… all the things that had happened during that beigyness had hurt like a bitch. His efforts to climb his way back into her affections had finally worked… only for him to leave her yet again. How long would it be before that happened again?

Should she lap up every second of his intense interest in her welfare until…? Or should the walls built remain in place? Trouble was, Cordy knew, that if he stuck to his guns and moved into her apartment, how long before he got to her again? Her forehead repeatedly tapped against the mirror’s surface before pulling back, taking a deep breath and turning to exit her retreat.

***

Heavy boots lashed out at the impenetrable wall, followed by hard blows of two large fists. Anyone nearby would have shuddered in pure fear at the snarls of rage that tore from the enraged demon as he attacked the wall, only succeeding in causing superficial damage.

Angel gradually slowed his assault; his amber eyes instead turning to the offering bowl set on the pedestal. With a virulent curse, he took his rage out on that until all that remained were chunks of marble and powdery dust.

So much for his attempt at contacting the oracles. Fair enough, the ones he’d once had communication with were dead, but the vampire had hoped others would take their place.

Either not, or simply they refused him entrance. The trinket he’d brought along crushed in his bloody fist before being discarded angrily to join the rubble scattered across the stone floor. With one last look around, Angel swivelled on his heel and made his way out; heavy shoulders slumped in temporary defeat.

“Thought you’d be in there all night, Angelcakes; definitely not the weather for raw silk and ruffles” The vampire jumped, startled; annoyed at the fact he’d missed the unexpected presence of another demon, and surprised by just who it was…

“Lorne?”

*0*0*0*

“Tell me again why I shouldn’t pound you to a bloody pulp?” Angel’s voice came out raspy, but there was no mistaking the edge of understandable anger underlying the weariness.

The anagogic demon took a few steps back, a small nervous smile twisting his ruby lips. “Now, now, big guy, how was I to know you’d come here and rearrange the décor? …” he shifted, pinned to the spot by the dry rise of the vampire’s dark brow. “Ookeee… scratch that; yes, they told me where you’d gone- but I was too late to save the skin on your hands.” Lorne paused.

“Did I ever tell you what big hands you have, Snookums?”

“All the better to pummel you with,” Angel let out a sharp sigh; “Just keep talking, okay?”

After half an hour of listening to a surprisingly succinct explanation from the usually flowery-spoken demon, Angel finally rose to his feet lithely. “Come on.”

Lorne hesitated for a moment as the full import of those two words sunk in. “Now why do I suddenly feel like I’m about to be led to execution?” he muttered under his breath before finally kicking into movement and reluctantly following the rapidly disappearing black-clothed vampire….

*0*0*0*

“Say again?” Wide hazel eyes stared unblinkingly at Lorne, who sighed heavily and rubbed the back of his neck.

From the moment Angel had dragged him to Cordy’s apartment, calling Gunn on the way; all the green demon had received were either glares of annoyance and betrayal; the shuttered, yet foreboding stare of the vampire, and the stunned expression of the lovely brunette sitting facing him.

Life just never got any better than this little scenario… unless he counted in the atrociously bad Sea Breeze his last, quickly fired bartender offered him.

“Think of the caterpillar, the chrysalis, and the butterfly, princess… currently you are still a caterpillar-” his repeated explanation was abruptly halted by the look of outrage on Cordy’s face.

“Now I’m a caterpillar? Ten minutes ago, I was an ant with wings,” she growled. Lorne rolled his eyes in exasperation.

“Sweet cheeks, it was just a metaphor; stay with me here, okay? — And no more interruptions, please” he begged, rubbing a hand over his face. “I feel like a broken record, and for a demon who prides himself on being musically sublime. Let’s just say you’re killing my ego.” Cordy settled back, folding her arms and snapping her mouth firmly shut.

“As I was saying… you are, at present, like a caterpillar- a gorgeous, stunning caterpillar, naturally. The one with cute little russet spots and glossy feelers; okay, okay, moving on,” he stuttered at the gradually building growl in the hovering vampire’s throat.

“But your time as this quaint little creature-” he glared half-heartedly at the young woman, who added ‘bug’ with a scrunch of her pretty nose. “… Is coming to a close,” he ended with a flourish and stood up, beginning to pace.

“The time for you to evolve into a butterfly is growing nearer with every vision you have,” Lorne’s tone brightened with excitement as he continued on. “But first, you have to go through the chrysalis stage-”

“Can we get to the plain talk? All this talking of insect habits is seriously grossing me out,” Gunn grumbled. Wes, sitting next to him, nodded in agreement. Angel merely grunted, and Cordy rose to her feet abruptly to approach the green demon.

“As fun as this is not, Lorne, I agree with the others.” Cordy poked him sharply in his chest, ignoring his ‘ouch’ and pitiful pooch. “Cut the bug crap and get on with it before I grow wings and fly away.” Except for a stifled snigger from the young black man, the room was silent.

Lorne sighed yet again. “Okay… your human brain is not equipped to deal with the visions; hence the damage seen on those CAT scans.” He explained bluntly. “The PTB value your …unexpected contribution to the cause, and have put into action something that is rarely — if ever, done to a human on this plane of existence…. The only way to halt your inevitable- and horrible death, is to begin the process of evolving your brain to enable you to absorb the visions without causing damage.”

The silence became heavier. Cordy moved back over to the couch and sank into the cushions slowly, unaware of the sudden presence of Angel, who’d walked over to join her.

“So… basically, I’m not going to die?” she finally asked, breaking the silence.

Wes leaned forward in the chair he occupied, finally speaking. “It is a little more convoluted than that… but, no, it seems you are not going to die, Cordelia,” he added when she arched a tired brow towards him. He couldn’t keep the relief out of his voice, and on hearing it, Cordy instantly relaxed and graced him with a small smile.

“This…chrysalis thing; what exactly does that entail?” Angel reached out to latch onto one of her hands, squeezing it in silent support.

Lorne avoided the sharp brown eyes and instead contemplated his blue suede shod feet. “Lorne?”

“Fasten your seatbelts and assume crash positions, duckies, because It’s gonna be one hell of a ride…”

*0*0*0*

By the time everyone but Angel was leaving, Cordelia had been ensconced in the bathroom for at least twenty minutes.

Considering the devastating blow Lorne had dealt, even as the threat of death was averted; every one understood the seer’s need for some privacy, and had left quietly, pre-occupied themselves. The only one with still an ounce of life was the green demon who’d had the misfortune to pass on the less than pleasant news.

“Angel…” Lorne paused at the open door, jerking his head to indicate the vampire to join him outside for a moment. Although all Angel wanted to do was shut the door on all of them and take vigil outside the bathroom, he reluctantly stepped outside and pulled the door to; reasoning it must be serious since the demon hadn’t called him a pastry of some kind.
.
“Make it quick, Lorne.” Angel’s irritation wasn’t lost on the anagogic demon, but on seeing the vampire and Seer’s auras doing the hoochie, he felt obliged to say at least something to ease the dreadful tension between them. His little chat to the princess would, naturally, have to wait until later.

Not so Angel. Lorne didn’t pull his punches, “Her convoluted head is a mess- and I’m talking Hiroshima with a dash of World War Two, bucko. “

Angel frowned, his annoyance growing by the second. “After what happened tonight, it’s understandable… Just cut the pussyfooting, Lorne, and get to the point,” he demanded tiredly, just knowing this wasn’t a case of telling him the obvious.

Lorne appraised the vampire for several seconds before heaving a sigh and shaking his colourful head. “This goes way before all of this, munchkin,” he advised solemnly. “I know I haven’t been around since you two powerhouses got all missiony together, but…right now, that young woman has more issues than Cosmo where you’re concerned, and my advice? —” Instantly shutting up, he stepped back when the previously slouched vampire straightened up.

“Keep your nose out of our business; that’s *my* advice.” The last thing Angel needed right now was someone else bringing up the latest bane of his unlife, so he deliberately crowded Lorne, who gulped but was determined to soldier on.

“But it *is* my- *our* business when it affects all of us,” he insisted doggedly. “Cordelicious’ aura screams insecurity and fear, which right now? It could be picked up by a deaf and blind shlock demon that we know has a brain of a cherry,” He carried on baldly.

“She needs you way more than she could possibly imagine, and just “being there” isn’t gonna cut it.” Angel visibly deflated, Lorne’s’ creative words as cuttingly clear as crystal.

“Don’t you think I don’t know that?” he raked a hand through his hair roughly. “You know how many times I’ve regretted decisions made in the past? Too many to count,” Angel sounded as defeated as he looked, and Lorne’s left butt ached for him. “How am I supposed to make things better? Cos right now? I haven’t a clue where to start.”

“Look… think of the time spent under the same roof as an opportunity…” he reached out and tapped Angel’s dark head, “knock a-knocking, and rev up to rebuild the Golden Gate before ‘Cisco is cut off to you for good.” He turned to leave, pausing when his name was uttered softly.

“I don’t want her to die,” Angel admitted, and Lorne shook his head sympathetically.

“Well, she won’t, thanks to those Power-Puppies, but on an emotional level? The princess could do with more shaking than a cocktail, but as that’s on your list of ‘potentially deadly’… put this time to good use, okay?” he gave an encouraging smile and left the vampire contemplating the stark white wall in his line of vision.

*0*0*0*

“Why can’t he just leave me alone?” Cordelia muttered under her breath as his voice filtered through the door for about the third time in the past half hour.

Knowing it was because Angel was worried, made her feel guilty for wishing him anywhere but outside the door — hell, even in her apartment! Currently, there was no room in her head for ‘the talk’ that was inevitable after all they’d learned. Finding out her brain-melting visions were going to get worse…. Much worse, was enough to keep her head occupied for a very long time.

Laughing dryly, Cordelia attempted to imagine feeling *worse* than she did already, and could just. Not. Picture it. How in God’s name could it possibly get any more painful than it already was?

Lorne had explained that it wasn’t the initial pain, per se, but the after effects, which would last longer. Well, until it eventually got to a point where there was absolutely no relief between messages from the Pains That Be. The demon couldn’t – or wouldn’t — be specific about all it entailed, but it was enough to cause a pall of gloom and doom over everyone sitting in her lounge.

What was just as bad was the pitying looks.

No one was able to soothe or reassure – except for the not dying bit, that is. Apparently, that wasn’t ‘The Plan’. She had far too much mileage left in her to be replaced by a shiny new model.

Yay for me! That little piece of information had made her feel so much better…. But maybe once Cordelia got over the major changes heading her way, she’d look back on this in a different light; cos still alive, and apparently upgraded? Had to be grateful for that.

Although, all she felt now was helplessness and anger… and not a little self-pity that was hovering around the edges.

Her bowed head lifted when, again, the velvet voice of the vampire broke into her thoughts.

*0*0*0*

Angel discreetly tested the door handle, finding it unlocked…belatedly remembering the bathroom didn’t actually have a lock. But he still hovered, uncertain as to if he should just take the bull by the horns and enter, or leave her be.

Forty-five minutes now since the others had left, and although he’d called several times, not a peep from the brunette. More silence. Taking a deep breath, he again reached out a hand towards the handle, not really caring at this point if she chewed him out or not. He needed to know she was okay.

Well…*okay* wasn’t quite the word that came to mind.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” The door opened abruptly before Angel’s fingers could wrap around the handle; surprise causing him to take a step back.

“Cordy…” she pushed past him and made her way to her room. “Cordelia… We need to do this – you need this.” Cordelia stopped dead in her tracks and swivelled around to face him.

“Need?” she asked stonily. “What, you suddenly know me so well that you know what I need more than I do myself?” He flinched visibly, and with an indrawn breath of mild shame, Cordy looked to the floor. Dammit! She hadn’t meant to be so…mean. But…

“Sorry, I’m just…” raking a shaking hand through her hair roughly, her eyes lifted to catch his, wincing at the hurt emanating from those chocolaty depths. “… Give me a bit of time and space, okay?” her voice dropping to a soft, almost pleading tone. “I need to get things straight in my head before I’m ready to talk about it to anyone,” her tired eyes begged for understanding, and with a deep sigh, his shoulders slumped even as he nodded slowly.

“Sure- but,” he held her eyes for a moment longer, “I’m here; please remember that.” Cordy broke eye contact after forcing a slight smile; then turned to open her bedroom door and disappeared inside.

Angel hovered for several minutes before finally turning on his heel and heading in the opposite direction.

BackPart 9

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *