Title: He Left Something Behind
Author: Stephanie
Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING!!! PLEASE DON’T SUE, "the only money in my family
is underneath the couch cushions." Oh! The song is "Jupiter" by Jewel,
which, I presume, she owns, not me.
Rating: PG-13 for language and sexual situations (oh God help me! I'm
starting to sound like the evil MPAA!!!)

Summery: Takes place immediately after "Expecting." We find that Doyle left
something to Cordelia other than the visions. Also we find out about who
Doyle's father was and how Doyle came to be.

Spoilers: Up to and especially "Expecting"

Note: In case you didn’t know because his name was never mentioned except
in the credits, the head of The Scourge (you know the guy who was supposed
to be Hitler) his name was Tirenan.

Author’s Note: Sorry guys. This is a ghost fic, not a resurrection fic, but
I really like the idea. It has three parts (I know, it shocked me too that
I could write so little) But if you like it there might be a sequel, and
I’m definitely writing a prequel.



Part 1: Fiona

25 years ago...

A stunning woman with strait brown hair and breathtaking blue eyes was
headed for work. The year? 1975. The place? Dublin, Ireland. Her name?
Fiona Fitzpatrick. She was not headed to just any job. She was headed to a
strange one. She had agreed to help out a vampire with a soul work for
redemption. This particular vamp with a soul's name was roan, and he was
one particularly badass vamp in his day. (Anybody else seeing the
parallels? I'm working hard to set them up.)

She was also headed into work along with a man named Allan Doyle. Allan to
Fiona was nothing. According to her he: a) couldn't dress (hello? those
leather jackets, so 1955, can't he wear a leisure suit just once?) b) over
bearing (okay, when a really good looking rich fella comes, DON'T chase him
away from me!) and c) completely handsome.

He was. He had dark curly brown hair and deep dark brown eyes. About 5"8
and spoke with an accent. He was an American who was of Italian and Irish
decent somewhere down the line. But unbeknownst to Fiona at the time, he
was the product of two demons, both Brackens. He had grown up in Washington
in the back country with a clan of fellow Bracken's but since he could pass
as human he decided to leave them when he was 18.

But in his impetuous youth he ran into a cult of half demons who wanted to
be full blooded. He did some pretty evil things with those guys until one
day he realized that they weren't what he wanted. But he had done some
damage. The Higher Powers figured he needed to atone for them.

That's why they gave him the power of sight. They told him to go to Dublin
and help Roan, a vampire with a soul, fight the evil that resided in Dublin
and to help him earn atonement for his crimes and at the same time Allan
could atone for his. It was the perfect solution for Allan, he had it all
planned out.

What Allan didn't plan was Fiona. She was from a little village a way's
from Dublin and had gotten out of there as fast as she could once she
finished school. She could never stand small towns. She said that her heart
was "made for the city, not some two bit village not even big enough to be
put on the map."

She was stunning. Allan knew that and he admitted it. But what he hated was
admitting that he had fallen for her. Why, how could he not? She was
self-assured, confident, and had spirit. But, she never returned the
glances.

She wanted a rich, handsome, and perfect man to come, sweep her off her
feet and take her to live in his mansion. She hardly glanced at him, for he
was the opposite. He wasn’t rich and certainly not them to stop.

So, they walked to go help the hopeless.

The first thing that went wrong was that they ran into The Scourge. They
met them when trying to get the people out of the building. That's when the
chain of events happened that would change everything.

While they were getting the half demons out of the building and onto a ship
bound for America where so far The Scourge hadn't branched out to yet, they
ran into them, The Scourge that is. Particularly an old friend of Allan's,
Tirenan. They had both grown up together as Bracken's but he had hated only
being partially demon. So, he ascended to a much purer form. But not
through the Mayer's way, as we all recall, but rather through Magick and
some other dimensional help. He now was under the ranks of The Scourge
punishing his own kind.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the little demon half breed Allan Doyle,
it's always good to see an old friend," Tirenan said while Roan and Fiona
were trying to take care of some evil soldiers of doom on the other side.

"Well, isn’t that the demon calling the kettle black. You know, I know your
mother. She’s a half breed just like you. Just like both of us. If you
don’t recall, we grew up together."

"Not at all," Tirenan said. "The Dark Forces make me more pure by each
day." He circled Allan like a vicious vulture. "Do you know I can hear your
thoughts. I know your secrets Allan. I even know about," he paused and said
with mischief in his voice, "a girl." He saw the anger grow up inside of
Allan. "Yes, Fiona is it? A human no less. Oh, Allan, how could you. You
used to despise them back in the day."

Allan, knowing that Tirenan was capable of anything, lunged at him and
knocked him down. Roan and Fiona saw what Allan was doing and rushed to
help kick some butt.

"Allan, Allan, Allan, when will you learn that I’ll always beat you?"

"Friend of yours?" Roan asked.

"Sort of."

"Can we just please kill it?" Fiona asked.

"With pleasure," Allan said as he lunged at his old playmate and they went
at it. But unfortunately Tirenan was stronger. Roan came and tried to kill
him but it was too late. For by then Tirenan had already plunged his spikes
into Allan’s chest and he was dying, slowly and painfully. Roan didn’t have
time to kill him, because he had went down to his friend’s side. Fiona had
already knelt down and had lifted his head.

The rest of The Scourge had left by then, so Tirenan said, "it’s been fun
catching up with you Allan, you two bit demon half breed." With that he
left. None of them would ever meet him again.

"Demon?" Fiona said in disbelief.

"Well, at least now you know, I’m partly demon."

"That doesn’t matter now. We need to get you to the hospital." Fiona
frantically tried to lift him up to carry hm away. But he cried out in pain
and she rested him right down.

"Don’t bother. I’m almost dead, I’ve only got a few moments left."

"No, you don’t, don’t talk like that," Fiona said.

Allan turned his head toward Roan to say goodbye, "at least I died fighting
the good fight, right? I’ve finally atoned, haven’t I?"

"Yeah, you did," Roan said. "Your soul is in tact. At this point, your past
doesn’t matter."

"Good," he then said, "I’ll miss you. You were a friend." He then turned
his way toward Fiona who had tears running down her cheeks.

She could only say one word, "no."

"Shhh. It’s my time, but I’m not dying with regrets." He lifted his head up
as far as he could and placed his lips on hers which were practically on
top him as it was. She was with him on this, she wanted nothing more than
to stay like that forever. It felt so right to her, she cursed herself for
ever thinking that he was not right for herself. But as they kissed a blue
light was passed between the two making the kiss feel even more perfect and
whole. They stayed in that embrace in what felt like forever but was only
in real time a few seconds.

When they finally released Allan spoke, "there, no regrets." Fiona was
frantic, she didn’t want to loose him.

All she could say was, "no," as the life slowly went out of his dark deep
eyes and the color left his cheeks making them pale like a corpse, "no."

The last words he uttered were, "Fiona, don’t cry, your smile was the
prettiest part of you, it makes your blue eyes dance, I love that..." He
then mumbled something and fell silent. Fiona was in hysterics, She lifted
his now cold hand and placed it on her warm cheek, and stared at him hoping
that he would come back to her.

"Come back, come back to me. No, no." Roan stepped towards her and put his
hand on her shoulder. It was the comfort she needed as she sobbed. Still
the only word she could say was, "no."

Allan Doyle was buried a few short days later at a private ceremony at
night. There were only three people there: Fiona, Roan, and the priest who
gave the service. As the coffin was laid in the grave Fiona could still
only say one word, "no."

It was a month later when she found she was pregnant. Roan had explained to
her that Bracken demons, the kind that Allan was, can reproduce with a
death bed kiss, and that this was the most beautiful way that they
reproduced because it could only be used with two people who truly care
about one another.

Eight months after that Fiona Andrea Catherine Fitzpatrick gave birth to a
beautiful baby boy. She named him Allan Francis (after her father) Doyle,
because the child was the son of Allan she felt it was only right and
proper.

Fiona was not going to tell her precious baby boy, that he was half demon.
He was not going to know of the pain and suffering that they experienced.
Her baby looked and felt human. Maybe her human blood diluted the demon
part that came from Allan. She didn’t care. Her baby was not going to grow
up in her world being feared by humans and hated by pure bloods. He could
pass as human, that was good enough for her. Roan was troubled by this.

"Fiona, he should now where he came from."

"Why? Where did that get Allan? Dead, That’s where it got him. Dead because
demons wanted to kill him. They’ll want to kill our baby too. That’s not
gonna happen. As far as I’m concerned, demons and Magick and all of that?
They’re just going to be fairy stories for Francis. Get it? He’s going to
grow up believing that those things just don’t exist, let alone that he’s
apart of it. I live in that world, not him." She was serious. This baby was
all she had and it didn’t matter how, he was going to be protected from it
all.

A year later Roan was killed. A stake through the heart by a fellow vampire
called Spike who couldn’t stand the goody two shoes routine from a vampire
he sired. Fiona and her baby were alone now.

She even crawled back to her old village and mother on her hands and knees
hoping that her mother would take pity on her and her grandson. Her mother
let her stay with her but all she got was cold stares. It didn’t help that
the rest of the village stayed away from her and called her a whore because
she had a child and no sign ever of a husband. It didn’t matter to her as
long as Allan Francis was safe from vampires and demons.

Though Allan Francis didn’t have much of a childhood, considering the other
children were forbidden to go near him by their parents in fear that this
"bastard" child would corrupt their children, he grew up with books and his
mother was very attentive. Fiona hated every second she had to spend in
that village, her mother giving her cold stares because she had "shamed"
the family by having a child out of wedlock. Heaven forbid! The atrocities!
(That was sarcasm for you) It was not where she wanted her life to end up,
stuck in a two bit town when there was a big world out there just waiting
for her and her son.

She finally got her chance. One day, when Allan Francis was 15 and at
school, he was beaten up, bloody. But not as hard as the other guys. He
didn’t understand it but it was like he had super-human strength when he
fought, an advantage over the others. Allan Francis didn’t know what was
going on. Fiona did. They had to leave.

"But why Mom? I like it here, it’s peaceful, I can read."

"Well, look at that fight ya got into," Fiona was desperately seeking
answers to give him so he didn’t have to know that he was half demon.
"Besides, this two bit town is too small for both of us." She paused, "I
can’t stand the whispers anymore, the small town minds. Francis," if she
called him Allan she would cry, "please, you know I would never do this to
you, but if I live here one more day, I’m gonna die." She would never ask
him for any of this, but she was desperate to get him out of their so that
he would be safe, he wouldn’t be here.

"All right, if it makes you happy mom."

They moved to Washington, out west in the USA, in the next week. Fiona
always thought that her mother enjoyed seeing her leave. She never spoke to
her again.

She wanted to move out to Washington, it’s where Allan grew up. She figured
Seattle was the best. If she brought him to the back country it risked too
much.





Maybe if your good, one day I’ll tell you the rest of this tale of lies and
confessions. It’s quite a tale too, full of ribald adventures and damsels
with loose morals...





Part 2: Cordelia

Present...

"Angel?" Cordelia asked just as Wesley exited the room.

"Yeah?" He replied back to her.

"Yesterday I went to the doctor, you know, to see if that demon had done
any permanent damage and he- the doctor found something."

"And?"

"He found something."

"What? Are you all right?" Angel came up to her with immense concern in his
voice.

"No, I'm not- I don't have a disease or anything. It's just that. Well, I'm
really pregnant."

"What?"

"I know. Doctor says I'm a month and a half along."

"And you didn't notice this before?" Angel said. I mean, he knew the facts
of life.

"Well, I thought that it was stress, and a touch of the flu. I mean, I've
had a lot. I mean Doyle died-"

"Wait." Angel went over to his books and pulled one out. He flipped to a
page and said, "why didn't I realize this sooner?"

"What?"

"'Bracken demons reproduce one of two ways. The first is the traditional
human way. The second is a magickal way in which the two conditions must
happen: 1, the man must care deeply for or love the woman, and 2, must be
about to die and give the woman one last physical emotion, usually a kiss,
in which a blue magickal energy is passed to the woman. Giving her his,’
God, gotta love medieval literature, ‘seed'"

"Are you saying that when Doyle kissed me, he got me pregnant?"

"Pretty much."

"Wow," Cordelia said, "Marcy Bethel was right in the sixth grade, you
really can get pregnant from kissing."



The Next Day

"Cordelia's really pregnant?" Wesley asked in his obnoxious high pitched
obviously fake British accent. (Can you tell I have a very low regard for
the character)

"Yup."

"But wait, if this Doyle was demon, how will she survive the child birth?"

"He was only half-demon. He had enough human blood in him to make the child
birth just like any other human birth. And if the child turns out anything
like their father the demon side won't even present itself until later in
life."

"You mean my child will have demon aspects?" Cordelia said apparently
listening in on their conversation.

"Cordelia," Wesley said shocked.

"You mean, just like Doyle?"

"Yeah, most likely," Angel said.

"Well, good, at least then a part of their father will always be with
them."

"That's a good way to look at it Cordelia," Angel said. "I better go see
who that is at the door," Angel said answering the wrap at the door.

When he left Wesley turned to Cordelia. "you know, it's not to late to,
well, get rid of-"

"If you even finish thinking that sentence I will smack you upside the
head. Got it?"

"Right, of course." I'll give him one thing, he wasn't stupid.

8 Months Later...

"Push!" Somebody screamed. "Push!" It was Angel. He had taken an even more
protector like role to Cordelia. He felt like family to her at this point,
not as her husband but more like her brother.

"Okay, I felt the pain. I don’t care if it’s natural and necessary! Give me
the freaking drugs!!!!" You thought she was weird about normal pain,
imagine child birth.

She had been holding Angel’s hand and Angel had to say, "Okay Cordelia, you
know how I said you could hold my hand? let go now, please?" Angel winced
in pain and finally got free.

"I’m sorry, it’s too late for the drugs, you have to push," the nurse said.

"You have got to be kidding me! OH! AHHH!!" Cordelia screamed in pain.

But when it was all over, there was a beautiful baby girl. The nurse
wrapped up the baby in a blanket and handed her to Cordelia who held her in
her arms.

"How do you feel?" Angel asked.

"How do you think I feel? I just gave birth? My hair is a mess and I think
I am the most disgusting I have ever looked in my entire life. But other
than that I’m just fine." Cordelia said.

Just then Wesley bust into the room. "Am I too late?!"

"Kinda," Cordelia said.

"Oh." He walked over to her holding her baby.

"Thought of a name?" Angel asked.

"I like Francesca. It’s sort of like her father’s name. Francesca Doyle."

"I like it," Angel said.

"She’s beautiful Cordelia. Looks just like you," Wesley said.

"No, she’s got her father’s eyes. She is beautiful, isn’t she?"

"Welcome to the world Francesca, it’s one hell of a ride," Angel said.



That Night...

//Venus de Milo in her half-baked shell, understood the notion of love very
well.//

Cordelia was rocking Francesca to sleep after she had been crying all day.
Cordelia never realized how exhausting it was taking care of a baby. She
couldn’t help but drift off into sleep while she rocked...

//She said, "a good love is delicious you can’t get enough too soon. It
makes you so crazy you want to swallow the moon//

She woke in a dream state to the same scene except one difference: Doyle
was standing in front of the door, leaning against it.

//Oh, oh, Jupiter. Oh, oh be still my little heart. Oh Oh.//

"She has your eyes," Cordelia said.

"Your smile." He moved into the room and put his hand on her shoulder.

"You would’ve loved being a father."

"Yeah, I would’ve."

"She would’ve loved being your daughter."

"I’ll be with her always, and she will love you."

"It’s not the same. I wish that you could be down here with me. We could’ve
been a family."

"Well, it’s too late now. I did love you."

"I did too. I’m sorry I never said anything."

"Well, you just did." He extended his arm and she took it and stood up.

//Love is a flame, neither timid nor tame.//

"Don’t worry, she’ll sleep the rest of the night peacefully." He said,
looking at the concern for her daughter. "Never thought I’d get to see the
maternal side of you." He smiled and laughed, it made her smile too. A lot
of things about her had changed.

"This is a dream, it’s not real."

"On the contrary, dreams are very real, the dead are alive in the dreams of
the living."

"Than, stay in mine and Francesca’s dream’s forever."

"That was the plan."

"Good."

"Would you care to dance?" She grabbed his hands as music came pouring into
the room, washing them upward as they danced together.

//Take these stars from my crown, let the years fall down. Lay me on
firelight, let my skin feel the light. Fasten me to your side, say it will
be soon. You make me so crazy baby, could swallow the moon.//

The dancing soon turned as he kissed her as their lips came together
passionately. She felt his body and he swept her up in his arms. He laid
her down on the bed and the two made love.

//My hands are two travelers, they crossed oceans and lands. Yet they are
too small on the continent of your skin. Wandering, wandering. I could
spend my life traveling the length of your body each night//

When they were done, Doyle said, "you have to wake up soon."

"I know."

"I won’t be able to come into your dreams like this all the time," he said
dismayed.

"I know, I know that."

"I can only come when needed. All right?"

"All right. Can you stay until I wake up?"

"Of course."

"You’ll be with Francesca, won’t you?"

"Of course. She will know my love."

"I love you."

"I love you too." Doyle wrapped his arms around Cordelia and they laid
there all night until she woke up from her dream and he was gone.

But she knew she was gonna be all right now, and so was her daughter. There
was just someone she needed to find and talk to first.

//You make me so crazy baby. Could swallow the moon. Swallow the moon.
Swallow the moon//





PART 3: The Meeting

Cordelia pulled up to the small sea side apartment in Seattle with
Francesca in the back seat and Angel and Wesley late at night.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Angel asked.

"Yeah, she needs to know."

"All right. We’ll wait out here for you." Cordelia picked Francesca up and
gave a quick smile of confidence.

"All right." Cordelia walked in.

She found the right door and knocked on the door. In a few short seconds
the door cracked opened between a bolt lock and a woman’s voice with a
fading Irish accent asked, "yes? Where did you get that jacket?" The woman
asked awaiting the answer, Cordy had on Doyle’s leather jacket.

"Um, does a Fiona Fitzpatrick live here?"

"This is she."

"Well, may I speak with you? I- I knew your son." That instant she said
that the woman shut the door and quickly unlocked it and opened her door.

"Come in here," Cordelia walked in the apartment with Francesca in her
arms, "you knew my son? Did you know him before he died? A man named Angel
called me awhile ago and told me. How did you know him? I hadn’t even
spoken to him in the last 4 years. I’m sorry, I’m babbling. How did you
know Francis?" Fiona first noticed the baby. "Is this your daughter? What’s
her name?"

"That’s why I’m here. Her name’s Francesca, Francesca Doyle."

"No, oh my God. She’s-she’s my-"

"Yeah."

"May I hold her?"

"Yes! Please! Give me a break from my arm falling asleep."

"She has his eyes."

"I know."

"Tell me, please. Were you married, engaged, together? Please, I need to
know."

"None, of those actually. We never got that chance-"

"I didn’t with his father." She paused. "It was the kiss wasn’t it?"

"Excuse me?"

"He kissed you before he died didn’t he? That’s how Francesca came to be,
so to speak, right?"

"Yeah."

"That’s how Francis was conceived." She paused. "Where did you get that
coat?"

"It was Doyle’s. I mean it’s hideous, no offense. If it weren’t do you
think I’d wear it?" Cordelia said.

"Hey, I hear their coming back. Of course, that was 30 years ago," she
paused, "That was Allan’s coat, Francis’s father. I remember how horrible
he dressed," she laughed, "refused to join us in the seventies. He insisted
on wearing those fifties’s clothes. He looked hideous."

"That must run in the family or something. Doyle, could not dress to save
his life. His taste in clothes was horrendous. I only wear the coat
because, this is gonna sound silly, but it still smells like him. It makes
me feel safe."

"I wore that same exact coat for at least ten years after Allen died. It
still smelled like him. I gave it to Francis then. I couldn’t believe how
much he looked like him. Francesca’s just beautiful. My grand-daughter. I
have a grand-daughter." Francesca started to fidget. "Here, I think she
wants her mother," Fiona passed Francesca over to Cordelia. "You know, I
can see why Francis cared for you so much. You remind me of a lot of
someone."

"Who?"

"Me. I’m sorry, you never told me your name."

"Oh, Cordelia."

"Well, Cordelia, I guess we both are apart of some sort of curse, to not
realize until after death that we love someone."

"It was my punishment."

"Mine too."

"No, it couldn’t be. I was cursed because I wanted too much out of life. I
wanted to get away from my family. I was shallow. Let me say. The Powers
That Be don’t really care for people like that."

"Don’t I know it." Just at that second, a vision hit Cordelia. Swirls of
images and words seeped into her brain. It was a jumbled mess acompinied by
the usual migraine. She put her hands to the side to try and subdue the
pain. But it just never worked. She saw some guy being circled by a demon
and she knew she had to tell Angel to go slay it.

"Are you all right. Was that a vision?"

"Yeah, I’m fine, of course except for the pounding migraine. But, I have to
go know and tell Angel what evil we get the pleasure of killing tonight.
I’m sorry."

"It’s all right. Go, just, don’t be a stranger Cordelia. I want to be able
to see my grand daughter every now and then. Let me say good bye?"

"Of course," Cordelia gave Francesca to her grand-mother.

"Oh, Francesca, goodbye. Grand-ma will see ya soon. Oh, I love you. You’ll
be back, won’t ya?"

"Of course."

"All right. You two, don’t be strangers. I love you. And Cordelia, you’re
not being punished. If you were being punished, the Higher Powers wouldn’t
have granted you Francesca, and if I was they wouldn’t have given me
Francis. We both lost, but we gained as well." She gave Francesca a last
kiss and gave her back to Cordelia.

"Well, Ms. Fitzpatrick, I will come back soon."

"Call me Fiona, we’re family now."

"All right, Fiona, I will be back." Cordelia and Fiona were headed for the
door. Fiona opened it and just before Cordelia left Fiona said one more
thing to her,

"Cordelia, you take care of that baby, and that jacket. One day it’ll be
hers too." Cordelia just smiled at Fiona and the two stared at each other a
moment.

They were so similar. The two had both not been lucky in life. But there
was still a chance for her to have a happy existence with her daughter.

"One more thing Cordelia. I want you to tell Francesca who she is when
she’s old enough. That’s why Francis stopped talking to me for the last 4
years. It’s not worth it. She’ll find out sooner or later, it’s better to
find that out from her mother than the way Francis found out. Don’t repeat
my mistake. It’s just not worth it."

"All right. Well, good bye."

Cordelia left. Fiona, felt complete as she closed the door. Cordelia walked
out of the building.

Standing in the hall between where Fiona and Cordelia stood were two
spiritual entities: Allan and Doyle.

"Were we doomed to this fate where we can watch and only rarely talk to
them?" Doyle asked his father.

"In time you’ll learn it’s the best for her."

"But, I want to be able to hold her, like I did in that dream."

"You only are rarely granted dream right’s. But you will learn in time,
that it isn’t so bad. You can protect them easier this way. Now go. My
place is here with your mother. Your’s is with Cordelia and your daughter.
It’ll be up to you to protect them." With that Doyle walked up to Cordy and
started following her. He wished he could touch her just once, but he knew
he couldn’t.

But Doyle thought, "screw that."

Cordelia felt a warm breeze and smiled. It was like someone was hugging
her, but there was no one there.

Doyle had broken the rule of not touching already. But it certainly would
not be the last.



THE END...

Or is it?