"Deadboy! Wakey, wakey!" I opened my eyes, squinting briefly as the bleary image sharpened into the face of....Xander? The weight of the previous night's events hit me, and I bit back the annoyed comment forming on my lips. In spite of his actions, I don't hold any real malice towards Xander. Besides, if I really wanted him to suffer, I wouldn't need to waste my breathe with sarcasm. I sat up, shaking off the stiffness in my neck from sleeping at my desk, and took in the small group scattered around the office. Oz was on the couch with Willow sitting on his lap. Next to them was a girl I didn't know. Xander, having decided that annoying a sleepy vampire might not be good for his health, sat down next to her. Giles and Buffy stood near the doorway, both seeming less than eager to be here. "How long have you been here?" I asked softly. "We just got here. I tried telling Xander to leave you alone, but he hasn't been able to torment you for months....." Willow accompanied her words with a warm smile, trying uselessly to ease the tension in the room. The fact that six humans had been able to sneak up on me sent me reeling. If Cordelia's death had me that thrown, I couldn't begin to imagine how the others would take it. Buffy, completely businesslike, was the one to voice what everyone was thinking. "Angel, I know you didn't call us to LA for small talk. What's wrong?" "Let's go downstairs." *~* The brief elevator ride gave me a few precious moments to collect my thoughts and steel my emotions. Everyone was silent during the ride. The expected remarks from Xander never came. It was almost like he knew. The elevator grinded to a halt, and the group entered my apartment. I idly noted that the door to the bedroom was closed, and I resisted the urge to check on Doyle. "I'm sure that Oz told the rest of you that Cordelia was helping me. Over the past few months, she and I have gotten pretty close-" "Oh my God, you and Cordy?!?!?" Xander exploded. "That is just wrong on so many levels! I think I'm going to be sick! I knew her standards were low-" "Don't you dare speak about her that way." Doyle stood in the doorway, looking like someone on the tail end of a lost weekend. His hair was mussed, and his eyes were swollen and bloodshot. A nearly empty bottle of whisky was clutched loosely in his hand, and the smell of booze and despair emanated off him in waves. "Doyle." I was by his side in an instant, cursing the irrational idea that possessed me to leave him alone. "Doyle?" Doyle didn't look at me. Instead, his blazing gaze remained focused on Xander. "Don't you _ever_ speak about her that way!" "Maybe you should let Cordelia fight her own battles," Xander retorted. "Cordelia was murdered last night." The silence was suffocating. *~*~* "How did it happen?" Giles' voice was rough as he fought a losing battle with tears. Giles may not have been as close to Cordelia as he was to Buffy, Willow, or even Xander, but he did care a great deal about her. Like it or not, Giles was the only real father these kids had, and the worst pain for any parent is to outlive his children. "A demon." I answered simply. "I don't know what kind or how to stop it. The things it did to her...." I trailed off, reluctant to go into further details while Doyle was present. "It ripped 'er apart, that's what it did to Cordelia." Xander winced visibly at Doyle's harsh words. "There's no point in sugar coating it! That demon murdered 'er, and I had to listen to 'er die." The bottle slipped out of Doyle's fingers and shattered on the floor. No one noticed. "I never got to tell her that I was sorry. I never got to tell her anything!" Willow sobbed in Oz's arms, her cries bordering on hysterical. Oz did nothing to try to calm her. There was nothing any of us could do. Buffy clung to Giles like a lifeline. Her face was buried in his chest, but I could see her shoulders heaving with silent sobs. Some of those tears came from guilt that she hadn't been there to save Cordelia, but many more were from the genuine loss of a close friend. My eyes strayed to Giles' face. He had given up trying to be strong for the sake of the others. Silent tears streamed down his face and fell into Buffy's hair. A casual onlooker would think Giles was holding Buffy because he wanted to comfort her. They would be wrong. Giles was comforting himself. Every few seconds his eyes darted around the room, as if he was terrified that, in the space of a few seconds, the rest of his charges would be snatched away as quickly as Cordelia. Cordelia's death had shattered the feeling of immunity that surrounded their inner circle. They all knew death was a real possibility every night. Giles and Buffy felt it the strongest, but Xander, Cordelia, Willow, Oz, and probably even Anya were far from unaware. Death was all around them, but for four years it had, for the most part, spared them. Jenny and Kendra were the exceptions, but neither of those unfortunate women could claim membership to the Scooby Gang.... "This was your fault." Xander's cold whisper jerked me out of my reverie. "I wasn't there," I answered, managing to keep my voice steady. "No, you weren't there," Xander spat. "You were supposed to be protecting her! That's what you do here, isn't it? Help people?" Only a slight tremor in his voice belied that he felt anything besides blind hatred. "You really helped Cordy." "That's enough, Xander!" Giles barked. "This is no more Angel's fault than it is yours." Xander didn't acknowledge that Giles' words. "You let her die, and I hate you for it." His gaze never wavered from mine as he backed out of the apartment. *~*~*