{"id":801,"date":"2015-06-21T17:18:57","date_gmt":"2015-06-21T16:18:57","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/goteamfiction.com\/dir\/?p=801"},"modified":"2018-10-23T17:45:31","modified_gmt":"2018-10-23T16:45:31","slug":"gloomy-sunday-9-10","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/goteamfiction.com\/index.php\/2015\/06\/21\/gloomy-sunday-9-10\/","title":{"rendered":"Gloomy Sunday. 9-10"},"content":{"rendered":"

Part IX<\/b><\/span><\/p>\n

Every light in the office shone brightly and Cordelia\u2019s hair gleamed golden brown as she bent over a thick, ancient tome. Slim fingers rubbed her temple absently, the pulse of her headache heavy in the air. \u201cI\u2019m still mad,\u201d she said without looking up, and he let the door close behind him with a quiet click.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI know,\u201d he said. It was all he could think of to say, because all he could think was that she was safe. She\u2019d stayed and she was alive and that made everything he had done and said worth it.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWes is at the bookstore,\u201d she said, and the rasp of the page turning was loud in the quiet. \u201cHe called a while ago, said he\u2019d found a connection. He should be back soon.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOkay.\u201d He stripped off his coat, hung it over a nearby chair and stepped closer to her, hovered a hand over hers. Somewhere, there were the right words but he had no idea what they were or even where to look. And so he didn\u2019t even try. Instead, he bent over her, bracing his hands on the desk and pressed his lips silently into her hair. \u201cWhat are you doing?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cResearching,\u201d she said, and pushed forward a spiral bound notebook. \u201cI\u2019m researching,\u201d she said again, but her voice broke on a little hiccup and she turned her face down, into an elbow.<\/span><\/p>\n

He glanced down at the notebook, but instead of Cordelia\u2019s carefree half cursive spiral handwriting, the margins were full of doodles, penciled hearts outlined with ballpoint lace; a variety of unidentifiable shapes. And line after line was filled with the same words:<\/span>
\n
\nAngel loves Buffy Angel loves Buffy Angel loves Buffy Angel loves Buffy Angel loves Buffy Angel loves Buffy Angel loves Buffy Angel loves Buffy Angel loves Buffy Angel loves Buffy Angel loves Buffy Angel loves Buffy Angel loves Buffy Angel loves Buffy Angel loves Buffy Angel loves Buffy Angel loves Buffy Angel loves Buffy Angel loves Buffy Angel loves Buffy Angel loves Buffy Angel loves Buffy Angel loves Buffy Angel loves Buffy Angel loves Buffy <\/i><\/span><\/p>\n

And down, at the very bottom, in meticulous block letters she\u2019d printed:<\/span>
\n
\nMY HEART AND I HAVE DECIDED TO END IT ALL
\n<\/b><\/span>
\nHorror shattered through him, freezing his fingers as they stretched out to her, paralyzing his body and silencing his voice. No. Oh, God, no. He\u2019d only been gone an hour, maybe two. And Wesley had been there for most of the time, sworn to protect Cordelia because he too loved her. But they\u2019d been too late or too weak or too confident. Too something because it had gotten to her. <\/span><\/p>\n

Somehow, it had gotten to her. Cordelia was strong and she was life and breath and happiness. But here she was, curled into her arm while her hand scribbled out secret fears and he\u2019d let the demon get to her. He\u2019d sworn to protect her and even now, she shuddered underneath him and her shoulders quaked with sobs that Cordelia would never, ever let show.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOh, God,\u201d he forced out and dropped over her, pulling her to him, tilting her beautiful, sad face so he could look into her eyes.<\/span><\/p>\n

They were dark. Sad and dark and silvery threads traced down her cheeks. How long had she sat there, doodling and crying? How long did she have?<\/span><\/p>\n

He clutched her to him, cradled her, and she burrowed into him. \u201cAngel,\u201d and her voice was hers again, fierce and scared and demanding. \u201cGod, Angel, help me. Please help me. I\u2019m so scared and I\u2019m so lonely and I can hear it in my head, Angel, it keeps whispering to me and it\u2019s so alone and I\u2019m so alone and I just can\u2019t take it, I can\u2019t deal with this Angel, please help me, don\u2019t let it talk to me anymore, I don\u2019t want to be alone, Angel, please, Angel, please, Angel \u2026\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Panic twisted him and he could only clutch her tighter and swear on everything that meant anything. \u201cYou\u2019re going to be okay, Cordy. Just be strong, okay? We\u2019re gonna get through this, Cordy. You\u2019re not alone. Just be strong. Cordy, please be strong.\u201d<\/span>
\n****<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI have to kill it, Wesley. And you need to find out how.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s not that easy, Angel.\u201d Wesley couldn\u2019t take his eyes off Cordelia, fingers sealed flat against her ears, lips pressed together into a thin, straight line. \u201cWe can\u2019t see it. As far as we know, it could be here, right now.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhy is this happening to her? Why not me? I met it first,\u201d he said. Cordelia rocked against him, bare feet slapping the floor with in a staccato rhythm.<\/span><\/p>\n

Wesley blew out a hard breath. \u201cI don\u2019t know, Angel. I don\u2019t know nearly enough. I need you to let me concentrate.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

He was trying. He really was. But Cordelia was all tense muscle and sheer focus, nearly vibrating in his arms with the effort it was taking to keep the fear, the terror, the demon<\/i> at bay. \u201cTime\u2019s the one thing we haven\u2019t got, Wes.\u201d And when Angel stood, Cordelia cradled against him, Wes didn\u2019t try to stop him.<\/span><\/p>\n

He paced, Cordelia weightless in his arms. He\u2019d railed for years against her trademark chatter but at some point in time he\u2019d become used to it and now he\u2019d give an arm to hear her boisterous enthusiasm. Even if it came with a shrill voice and ear-piercing volume. He jiggled her against him, relishing her dissatisfied mumbles because it meant she was still alive. Still fighting. He\u2019d be damned if this demon broke her \u2013 broke them \u2013 just as he was learning what it meant to be whole again,<\/span><\/p>\n

An idea sparked in the darkness of his subconscious and relief warmed him to the tips of his fingers. \u201cI need a few spells,\u201d he said. Wesley, always sensitive to tone, looked up cautiously.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat kind of spells?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cA visualization spell,\u201d Angel said, and his smile was a fierce grimace of promised retribution. \u201cAnd a containment spell.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Wes pushed his glasses up securely on the bridge of his nose with one frustrated finger. \u201cAngel, it\u2019s not nearly that simple. Each of these demons needs their own containment unit, a storage vessel per se, and you can\u2019t just fudge those. Don\u2019t you remember the Ethros demon?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Angel cut him off with a look. \u201cI don\u2019t want to stash it away in a box and keep it safe. I want it corporeal. I want it real. And then I want to tear it apart.\u201d Scenarios flickered through his heads, shuffling and organizing automatically, just another habit after years of tactics and battles. \u201cAnd I want it contained in one area. One room. That should be enough space.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Wesley was shoving out of his chair and into an open box of textbooks. Rifling quickly through them, he pulled out a slim volume bound in dark leather. Not bothering to open it, he tossed it across the office. Angel caught it in his free hand, barely jostling the still silent girl in his arms. \u201cThis has what you need.\u201d Angel tucked the book into a pocket, but Wesley\u2019s concerned face stopped him before he could do anything else. \u201cHow do you plan on finding it? It\u2019s not exactly leaving a trail you can follow.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cIt craves angst and pain. It needs them to survive.\u201d He was moving quickly now, sorting through weapons and stashing the ones he\u2019d selected, all the while barely jostling Cordelia. \u201cAnd I don\u2019t need to find it. It\u2019s in<\/i> her, Wesley, but I\u2019m<\/i> the one it wants.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Wesley struggled silently; his desire to support warring with his more practical instinctive nature. Angel didn\u2019t seem to notice, efficiently packing a gym bag with an assortment of magical herbs, organized into Tupperware and labeled clearly with masking tape and Cordelia\u2019s loopy handwriting. And even though Wesley had decided to stay quiet, the words exploded out of him. \u201cBut Angel, you can\u2019t just\u2014\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Wesley froze under Angel\u2019s sudden glare, fierceness and determination boring into him until he sighed, and dropped his own eyes. \u201cVery well. I\u2019m sure you\u2019ll just do as you please anyway, you always do, you never think of the rational\u2014\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThe rational?\u201d Angel\u2019s voice sounded almost dead it was so flat and Wesley felt nerves swimming up from his gut into his throat. He breathed hard; gulped them down. \u201cDoes this look rational to you?\u201d Angel continued, gesturing to Cordelia. And indeed, as if to prove his point, she was biting her lips in seemingly futile effort, clenching her palms flat against her head so tightly he could see white outlining her fingers. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHow long do you want me to let her go through this? Your rational<\/i> isn\u2019t an option, Wesley. The only option is saving Cordelia. And that\u2019s what I\u2019m going to do.\u201d He turned back to his task, jiggling the bag to free space for an extra pack of herbs.<\/span><\/p>\n

For two moments, maybe three, Wesley simply watched. But Angel was right. Perhaps he never thought out plans, and maybe he had a tendency to dive right in to dangerous situations, but Angel had always come through in the past and if the only other option was losing Cordelia, letting her slip away into a depression so deep and total that she would never beam that giant smile at them again, or try to wrap them around her little pinky because she wanted the last donut, or even tease and insult them \u2013 those were not options. Not for him.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhere are we going?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Angel heaved an impatient sigh, his shoulders girding against any possible delay. \u201cThere\u2019s a high school a few blocks from here. We\u2019re going there.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAha! Give that demon as much angst as it wants, eh?\u201d Wesley tried his best to appear calm and collected, but the subtle vibrations of his excited heart beat racing filled the room, and the spark in his eyes would have betrayed him to even the most clueless of observers. But Angel couldn\u2019t comment. His attention was on the rigid girl in his arms, embroiled in silent struggle. <\/span><\/p>\n

She\u2019d wrapped her arms around his neck, fingernails digging into his skin in mute testament to her inner battle. Her slender body practically vibrated under his fingers, the usual vibrant blush of her lips blanched into pale white under the grip of her teeth. Her eyes were screwed shut and he was pathetically grateful for it, because the sight of her now desperate, wretched eyes might just break his heart, the heart she herself had healed.<\/span><\/p>\n

The phone\u2019s trill was sharp in the heavy silence, and Wesley reflexively reached for it before Angel\u2019s growl arrested his movement. \u201cDon\u2019t even think about it.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Wesley\u2019s hand froze and guilt swamped his slender shoulders. Angel didn\u2019t even pause to think about it, instead jerking his head toward the door. \u201cGet the spell books. I\u2019ll meet you in the car.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Cordelia\u2019s voice chimed cheerfully in, the recording tinny as it played the message they all knew so well: “Thank you for calling Angel Investigations. We help the hopeless! We must all be helping people now, so please leave your name and number at the tone, and we\u2019ll call you back as soon as possible, with an estimate of our reasonable rates. Thanks!\u201d <\/i><\/span><\/p>\n

The machine beeped, and paused before a familiar voice began to speak. \u201cHello? Angel?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Wesley shot a glance over at Angel, frozen in silhouette in the office doorway. \u201cAngel, it\u2019s Buffy.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

She paused for a moment, as if collecting her thoughts, before brashly going ahead. \u201cI know we didn\u2019t exactly part under the best terms, and I know you\u2019re probably still furious with me, but \u2026\u201d her voice faltered again, and she pulled in a deep, courage-gathering breath. \u201cI need your help. There\u2019s this government agency, and they\u2019re created this Frankenstein-Super-Monster-Man, and we can\u2019t figure out how to kill him. He\u2019s strong, Angel, so strong, and we\u2019re just \u2013\u201d She sucked in another breath, its exhalation loud into the phone. \u201cWe need help, Angel.\u201d And then, even more quietly, \u201cPlease.\u201d The click startled Wesley, who turned confused blue eyes to Angel.<\/span><\/p>\n

Angel jerked his head toward the door. \u201cWhat are you waiting for, Wesley? Let\u2019s go.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Wesley\u2019s forehead crinkled in confused chagrin. \u201cBut what about\u2014\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Angel\u2019s jaw clenched with the effort it took to keep from striding across the room and pulling Wesley bodily from his chair and muscling him out the door. \u201cLet\u2019s. Go.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Wes didn\u2019t question him again, instead shoving hurriedly out of his chair and out of the door.<\/span>
\n****<\/span><\/p>\n

Cordelia was adrift in a sea of confusion, lost in the dark, struggling for balance on the thinnest of precipices while the unknown called to her, taunted her, reached for her. Underneath her fingertips was the sole isle of safety, a bastion in the midst of swirling misery and loneliness and she clung desperately to it, fighting the insidious voice creeping inside her. She struggled to open her eyes, but the lids were cemented shut. <\/span><\/p>\n

In the distance, a voice crooned to her in bittersweet melody. She could feel herself leaning toward the sound, straining to absorb its beauty and its sadness alike. It was familiar and compelling and she fought mindlessly against herself, against her own stubborn will that was holding her back from its tuneful spell. And yet through it all he was there, beside her, inside<\/i> her. His skin was textured under her fingers, and it flexed with fear and with helplessness. <\/span><\/p>\n

With rage, because he hated impotence. And with desperation, because he couldn\u2019t let her go and yet she could feel herself slipping away. The voice called to her, sang for her and for the first time in her short life she wasn\u2019t alone. It promised her bliss. Heaven. Somehow she even knew the words and she sang along with it in her head.<\/span><\/p>\n

But he screamed at her, wouldn\u2019t let up, wouldn\u2019t let go, always willing her to fight, to keep fighting, to hold on, Cordelia, just for a little while longer, hold on and I\u2019ll save you.<\/span><\/p>\n

She screwed her eyes shut as hard as she could and struggled against the voices in her head. The angel on one shoulder, a silvery voiced demon on the other. She gathered up every little bit of strength she could find and started to sing the one song she could think of. The one song that might be strong enough to shatter this nightmare. Whitney Houston. The Greatest Love of All.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

Part X<\/b><\/span><\/p>\n

The car hardly seemed large enough for all of them; Wesley driving for once so Angel could sit in the backseat, Cordelia lying carefully across his lap. He couldn\u2019t take his eyes off her, but it was all so wrong. Instead of her animated face, sparkling eyes and razor-sharp observations, she was huddled against him, face smoothed into an eerie calm. <\/span><\/p>\n

While he\u2019d been out fighting the demons from her vision, she\u2019d changed out of her sewer-stained clothes into a fresh outfit. She thought she was so clever but he\u2019d found her \u2018secret\u2019 suitcase months ago, filled with beautiful filmy blouses and flirty skirts, a rainbow of colors, textures, something for every occasion. God, he missed her.<\/span><\/p>\n

Wesley cleared his throat, and Angel looked up to see blue eyes glancing at him in the rearview mirror. \u201cAngel, are you sure you don\u2019t want to take her home? Dennis can keep an eye on her. Even if the demon is actually within her, I\u2019m not sure bringing Cordelia with us is the wisest thing to do.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

He was right and Angel knew it. But somehow, the thought of letting her out of his sight again was unbearable. \u201cNo,\u201d was all he said.<\/span><\/p>\n

****<\/span><\/p>\n

Angel slammed his shoulder into the door, relishing the sharp crack of splintering wood. Kicking it for good measure, he opened up a passable space and forced his big body through. Wesley slid through easily behind him, lugging their bag of spell books and materials. His footsteps echoed hollowly in the empty hallways, but Angel strode silently, stoically ahead, not even looking back to see if Wes had made it through.<\/span><\/p>\n

He moved purposefully, turning a corner here, forcing a door there, until the respectful hush of the school library welcomed them, the unmistakable heaviness of a thousand dusty books rife in the air. It was nothing special. Wesley carefully examined the room, eyes flickering over a few computers, an empty information station, a few rows of long empty tables awaiting students and stacks of research volumes. <\/span><\/p>\n

It was bigger than Sunnydale High\u2019s, much smaller than the Watcher Council\u2019s, but possessed the same silent expectation, a veritable font of information for anyone prepared to look. And yet, in the dark hush of night, goose bumps trailed up Wesley\u2019s back.<\/span><\/p>\n

Something was not right.<\/span><\/p>\n

Angel was barely paying attention, instead tugging the duffle free from Wesley\u2019s grip and pulling free the spell book. Rifling through it impatiently, he immediately began barking orders. \u201cVervaine and aloes,\u201d he said, gesturing to a table near the sole window, gleaming in a faint moonbeam. \u201cOver there.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Wesley occupied himself sorting out the proper containers and placing them where directed, and the orders kept coming. He lit ceremonial candles of the purest honeyed beeswax, set burning incense which filled the room with dense, amber flavored smoke, and still Angel moved, scattering one herb in the corners, using another to line the windows and doorways, and still another to outline the circle of candles until Wesley\u2019s head swam with all the various scents. <\/span><\/p>\n

The candles flickered, sending gloomy overlarge shadows dancing across the ceiling, and then Angel was reappearing before Wes had even realized he\u2019d left, Cordelia cradled in his arms. Her face was contorted as if she were in pain, and Angel was staring down at her, his own face etched deep with his own private torment.<\/span><\/p>\n

When he laid her down in the center of the circle, it took him a moment before he could back away, and the moment his arms left her, she curled in on herself, fingers clutching anything they could grasp: clothes, hair, skin, pulling until Angel stepped close, sliding his fingers into her own, intertwining them tightly together.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAngel?\u201d Wes asked softly, but the vampire didn\u2019t move or answer. \u201cAngel, we had better get going.\u201d I don\u2019t know how much more time we have<\/i>, he added silently in his head. And Angel seemed to understand, because he withdrew the slim volume from his jacket and tossed it to Wes.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cFirst the containment spell,\u201d he said brusquely.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cPerhaps the visualization spell first?\u201d Wes dared to suggest. \u201cIf only to ensure the demon does not strike again before we can see it.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cIt won\u2019t,\u201d Angel said, so quietly Wes had to strain to hear. \u201cIt\u2019s drawn to Cordelia. And to me.\u201d And then Wesley understood \u2013 Cordy and Angel were the bait. And that meant all this, saving Cordelia, saving Angel<\/i>, rested on his own narrow ex-Watcher, ex-rogue demon hunter\u2019s shoulders.<\/span><\/p>\n

Part 11<\/a><\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Part IX Every light in the office shone brightly and Cordelia\u2019s hair gleamed golden brown as she bent over a thick, ancient tome….<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-801","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-completed-fics"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/goteamfiction.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/801","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/goteamfiction.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/goteamfiction.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/goteamfiction.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/goteamfiction.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=801"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/goteamfiction.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/801\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/goteamfiction.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=801"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/goteamfiction.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=801"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/goteamfiction.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=801"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}