Title: From the Beginning Author: Sharon Lent/Circe Cordelia Chase hated throwing up. It was gross to start with and the nausea, the pain, the vomit; it was all just totally unnecessary. Which was why being bent over Angel's toilet for the fourth time in a week was completely humiliating. The dark eyed vampire said nothing, however, as she slumped back against the floor, clammy and flushed. Tired, Cordy closed her eyes, not opening them even when Angel laid a cool, damp washcloth over her forehead. "Thanks, Angel." She murmured tiredly. She was always tired lately. Tired and sick. "For everything, I mean." She opened her eyes now, and pulled the washcloth from her head, tossing it into the nearby sink. She pushed herself away from the cool ceramic tiles of the bathroom wall and started toward the elevator and the office upstairs. Angel's words stopped her at the elevator gate. "I'm worried, Cordelia. This is the second week you've been throwing up." He came to stand beside her. "And you've been falling asleep at work, even when you've slept the whole night through." Cordy reached for the latch to open the elevator, not responding to the vampire's concern. "Cordelia," Angel's hand covered hers, stopped it. "Something is wrong." She sighed, closing her eyes again. She'd wondered when he would question her about it. "It's just stress, Angel. With Doyle being gone and all, I have to cover his share of the work. Plus the visions…" She trailed off with a shrug. Doyle hadn't been kidding about the mind-bending pain. But Angel was not about to be put off so easily. "It's been two months. We've only had a few clients, and Doyle never did a ton of work here either. Two months, Cordelia," He took hold of her upper arms, shook her slightly, "I would think that you've gotten used to things. I think that something is wrong." He studied the young woman in front of him, she was pale and her heartbeat was fast and faint in his ears. He was worried about her, for her. He'd noticed the way she flinched when he had said his friend's name. Doyle. In the few months that they had been friends, Doyle had come to be one of the people he counted on, trusted, cared about. Angel missed him fiercely. "Is it Doyle, Cordelia?" The question was out before he could stop it. He might as well continue his train of thought aloud. "I know that you two weren't really close, but still," Cordelia pulled away from him and opened the elevator door. She faced him once inside the car. "Don't start, Angel. Just don't, with Doyle, alright." Cordy wanted to blow the question off completely, but Angel was one of her few friends in Los Angeles, and her employer. And he cared, that counted for something. He deserved some kind of answer. Blowing out the breath that she hadn't realized she'd been holding she hit the 'up' button and faced Angel. "We were friends. Sort of. And I liked him, Angel, in a I'd-like-to-date-him sort of way. Maybe," She paused and stepped out into the office. "Maybe I could have learned to love him, spiky-demon face and all. I don't know, and now I won't." She sighed and slumped into her chair in the front office. "Sometimes it just hits me that I didn't really know him. And that I'll never get the chance to know him now." She glanced up at Angel's impassive face. "Hello, anybody home? Geez, I pour out my heart to you and all I get is 'broody' face." She shooed him away with her hands, "Go brood in your office, I've got invoices to do." Angel didn't move. "Alright, so I have one invoice to do, but we really need the money." "Use the money to go to the doctor, Cordy." Angel ran his hands over his face and up into his hair. "I'm worried. Even if it's just stress, you should get it checked out." Angel could feel Cordelia's stare on him and opened his eyes to find her staring at him with her brows raised. "What aren't you telling me, Angel?" He wondered for a moment if he could get away without answering her. "Angel!" Nope, guess not. "When… Cordy, before Doyle…" Damn, this was hard. "There might be something really wrong, Cordelia. Something happened before Doyle died, a purple glow, when he gave you the visions…It might have…That is, I think…" For the second time that day Angel watched the color drain from her face. "And you think that maybe it's something demon related that's making me sick. Something Doyle did, or had, or was." Angel bowed his head, tired and worried and sad. "Maybe, or it might be something to do with the Scourge." He sighed. "And it might be the visions and the fact that Doyle was half-demon and you're…not." Looking back up, his soul clearly shining in his eyes Angel said, "Make an appointment Cordelia, as soon as the check comes in. While you're at the doctor, I'll go ask some questions of my own." "Harriet." It wasn't a question. They both knew that Doyle's ex-wife was the only logical choice. The only ethno-demonologist in Los Angeles who would be willing to help them for free. Angel didn't even bother to nod. "Her address and phone number are in the Rolodex. Meet me there after your appointment." This time it was Cordelia who didn't bother responding. --------------------------------- One week later Angel was being ushered into the foyer of his half-demon best friend's ex-wife. "Angel, how are you holding up?" He was grateful for her sympathy. "I'm doing alright. It's Cordelia that I'm worried about." At Harry's arched glance he continued, "She's been sick. First I thought it was just shock, you know." Angel began pacing the small room. "But then she started throwing up, falling asleep all the time, having these weird mood swings." Scrubbing his hands over his face he turned back to face Harry where she sat on her sofa. "It could be stress, like she thought. I made her go to the doctor to get it checked out, she's there now…" Angel threw a glance out the window, stared out at the street like it contained all the answers. "But you don't think so." Harry smiled kindly at his startled glance. "You wouldn't be darkening my door in the middle of the afternoon if you didn't think I could help, and since I'm not a doctor it must be a problem that I can help with. That means demons." Angel nodded, sat, stood up again. "Yeah, maybe. I don't know. It might be the visions, and those don't have a demon origin." Angel sat down yet again. "I've been reading everything I could about the Powers-That-Be, and visions, but there isn't much. Nothing about any side effects. Nothing like what Cordelia's going through." He stood and began to pace again. Harriet smiled gently at his obvious concern. He was so agitated that he was making very little sense. "Why don't I get us some tea and you can tell me the story from the beginning. Why don't you start with Francis's visions, what do you know about them?" Cordelia sat in the doctor's office. In the hour since she'd been at the small, sliding-fee clinic she'd been poked, prodded, tested and questioned. She'd answered questions about her medical history, her family history, and her sexual history. She was going to stake Angel when she got back to work. She might just save herself time and stake him at Harriet's apartment. How in the world was she supposed to answer questions about diseases she might have come into contact with? 'Yeah, I deal with demons on a regular basis and my boss uses the sewers to get around town during the daylight hours.' It was more a question of what she didn't come into contact with at this point. Cordelia huffed out a breath, more than ready to hear the diagnosis 'stress' and leave. The door opened and a nurse carrying a paper gown and followed by the balding doctor. "Ms. Chase," the doctor's voice was soft. 'Bad news', Cordy thought to herself. "Bad news?" She heard herself ask. He shook his head slowly. "Maybe, maybe not. A quick internal exam will give us some more answers. If you'll change into the robe, we'll get down to it and let you get on with your day." She changed quickly, silently. "What do you think is wrong, Doctor?" It was her first question as she slid up onto the table. The doctor ignored the question, "Lie down, Ms. Chase, that's right, feet in the stirrups." Cordelia flinched as she felt the cold metal of the tools against her and then the probing of the doctor's fingers. "Doctor, what do you think is wrong?" Again the doctor ignored the question. "We're done, Ms. Chase, you can get dressed again. I'm going to step out into the hallway, give you a little privacy, then we'll talk about your situation." Those words scared Cordelia for no reason she could name. But not more than the doctor's next words, as he stepped into the hallway. "By the way, Ms. Chase, when did you say you were last involved in a serious relationship?" --------------------------------- "So then he punched me, and I fell down to the lower deck. He jumped, before I could get back up to them, disarmed the device before I could stop him." Angel sighed, sipped his tea. Harry sat on the floor her elbows propped up on her coffee table, her hands clasped under her chin; her cup of tea had long since gone cold and untouched at her side. "He gave Cordelia his visions and then he was just gone. A kiss goodbye and a flash of light." Angel set his cup on the coaster and sighed. "I know Braken demons are incredibly strong, and Cordy's just a regular human. I'm worried that the visions are… "Wait," Harry interrupted Angel before he could go on to state his concerns or reiterate Cordelia's behavior from the weeks following Doyle's death. "Wait a sec. A kiss goodbye?" Her eyes had gone bright with speculation. "Francis, he kissed Cordelia before he died?" Angel nodded. "That's how he transferred the visions to her. All the books talk about having or needing a connection to the person receiving the visions." Angel felt that he owed Harry some explanation, why Doyle had chosen a kiss to make transfer. "They, he and Cordy, he…he liked her, you know. They were going to make plans. Go to dinner. That sort of thing." Angel stuttered over his explanation, unsure of his footing with Doyle's ex-wife. Especially considering her own, recently aborted engagement. To his immense relief there was only humor in the demonologist's eyes. "They were dating, you mean. It's okay. I was quite recently engaged. You might remember the event considering that you were at the bachelor party." Angel smiled, relieved. "Yeah, I remember it." He produced a small chuckle, "One heck of a party." "So I've heard." Harriet laughed softly. "But back to your business. It sounds familiar." Harriet stood and moved over to bookshelves flanking one wall. "When Francis first started to show his demon heritage, after I got over the shock, Bracken demons were the first race of demons that I looked up, studied. I was so fascinated that it lead me to my current career." She tossed a friendly smile over her shoulder and pulled a thin volume from the shelf. Angel noticed her name on the book jacket. "You're a writer?" She shot a quick glance down at the book in her hands and then back at Angel. "Yeah, but it's not like they're on the best-seller list." Sitting back down she took a healthy slug of tea, and glared at the cold liquid in the mug as she swallowed. "When Francis kissed her, did anything happen? That doesn't normally happen during a kiss? Lights maybe?" Angel's shocked look gave her all the answer she needed. "From Cordelia's symptoms I thought that might be what happened. About three and half thousand years ago Bracken demons were being hunted throughout Asia Minor. It got pretty desperate for them. It was said that they developed some interesting capabilities." She slid the book, open to a wood cut drawing, across the table to Angel. The drawing depicted what could have been the last few moments that Doyle and Cordelia had spent together. Spiky faced demon, human looking girl, and the odd purple light. Angel swallowed audibly. "Harry, you obviously know what this is, what happened. What's wrong with Cordelia? How do we help her?" Answers, solutions, Harry had them and Angel desperately wanted them. Harry smiled a small knowing smile. "What happened with the lights, Angel, wasn't the transfer of the visions. Something else entirely happened to Cordelia and only time will help her, but her life, Angel her life will never be the same." If his heart were still beating, Angel was certain he would have felt it stop. 'Oh, God' he thought. "Harry, please." He didn't know quite what he was asking her for. "Angel, from what you've told me, from what I know about demons and just from being a woman I'd have to say…" Harriet never got to finish her sentence. Cordelia, pale and shaking walked in, throwing a ray of the setting sun over Angel and driving him to the corner by the bookshelf. She didn't notice. "I'm pregnant." Her voice was flat and emotionless. Harry nodded. "That's what I was going to say." Cordelia shut the door and sank down into Angel's vacant seat on the sofa. Laying her head against the back she closed her eyes and moaned, "I am gonna get so fat." And Angel didn't know what to say so he said nothing and took Cordelia into his arms instead. "And I don't even want to think about the stretch marks."