Title: Picking up the Pieces (Completed) Author: Amber Anderson Disclaimer: Do you think I would even have to write this if I owned em? No, of course not! If they were mine, Doyle would be alive and he and Cordy would be having a really great relationship right now. But I don't. So thus the fic. Notes: Sequel to "Shattered." I'd love it if you'd help me with this one. I'm not sure if I like the beginning. So feedback please! Notes 2: Just pretend like the Oracles somehow screwed up and everyone remembers the day that wasn't, only a few months later. Okay? Does that make sense? Good, I didn't think so. :-) ~*~*~*~*~ I wouldn't accept it. I couldn't accept it. Angel kept pushing me to see the truth, that she was dead, that she'd been dead for over a week. I wasn't listening. I refused to listen to him. But why did I feel like my shield would come crashing down soon, my fragile shell would crack? I couldn't deny her death forever. I would sure as hell try, though. ~*~*~*~*~ "I wanna see her," Doyle said, with those dead eyes that I'd grown accustomed to. It was 2 days after Cordelia's death. "What?" I asked uncomprehendingly. I gasped in horror when I realized what he meant. "Doyle no . . . She's not there. That body in the morgue is just a shell of her former self. She's gone. Cordelia's-" "Dead," he supplied, laughing. It was a hollow sound that had no depth, no emotion. It was completely empty. "I know," he continued. "But Angel, I can't just sit around here and stare at you. I have to . . ." he lost control and almost started crying, but regained his composure and went on. "I have to say goodbye." ~*~*~*~*~ "Has there been any change?" Buffy asked, striding to me slowly, hugging herself tightly. "Is he still . . ." She'd arrived the night before, as soon as I'd finally gotten up the nerve to tell the gang that Cordy was dead. The others were staying in various hotels in the city. I didn't know exactly where, nor did I care. I just wanted her back. Alive. And bitching at me again. But it was never going to happen. Ever. I nodded sadly as I put the phone down, refusing to look at her. "Yes," I replied softly, staring down at the floor. "He's still." "Angel," Buffy said firmly, trying to get me to look her in the eyes. "There's nothing you could have done. It happened too fast. Got that? Nothing could have saved her." "And how do you know that?" I shouted, looking at her finally. "How? You don't even know me anymore, Buffy. You don't know what I'm capable of. We could have done something." I realized for the first time that the dress she wore was the same one she'd worn right before our forgotten day had ended. "No, you couldn't." she tried to say, putting a hand on my shoulder. "You couldn't have saved her." "Yes," I sobbed, closing my eyes, trying to dispel that image of her sobbing in my arms, moaning 'I'll never forget. I'll never forget.' She had, though. I had to keep telling myself that. She would never remember. Never. It's amazing how you can speak right to my heart without saying a word you can light up the dark try as I may I can never explain what I hear when you don't say a thing "Let go, Buffy." I growled, trying to wrench myself free of her iron grip. "Please just leave me alone." I began to cry raggedly, the stress of Cordy's death and Buffy being right here, and in that damned dress.. .Oh god . . . "Please," I repeated softly. But she refused. "I won't." She searched my face, seeing my tears, but also something else. "Angel, what's wrong with you?" she asked quietly. "This isn't just about Cordy." "She was like a sister to me in the end, Buffy." I admitted. "She wasn't just my secretary who made coffee and answered phone calls. I cared about her. She made me care. And so does Doyle. Very deeply." "I know you care, Angel." Buffy said. "How could you not after being around her for months? But there's something you're not telling me. I can see it in your eyes." I stared at her in surprise for a second, accepting her words. She could still read my mind. I sighed in defeat, and finally admitted, "In LA, you were here more than once." "What?" I stared into her hazel eyes, bright with confusion. She had no idea what I was talking about. So why should I bother explaining things to her? "You know what?" I said tiredly, turning away. "Never mind. It doesn't matter now." "It does to me. Please tell me why you're-" "Have you told them yet?" I asked icily, breaking free of her hand as I gazed at the refrigarator, at the kitchen table which had never been broken. I felt her eyes boring holes into my back. She moved up beside me, watching my eyes roam the room. We stood in silence for a long time. "Them?" she asked finally, ending the silence that invaded the room. The tension was thick as a knife. I turned and glared at her with a duh expression on my face. We were mere inches apart. "Oh," she muttered softly. "No, I haven't. I was gonna wait until . . ." "Until what?" I yelled bitterly. "Until she's nothing but a fading memory? Until my best friend loses his mind? How fucking long were you planning on waiting?" I didn't realize until just that second how deeply my words had cut her until I saw her face clearly. It crumbled, and now it was her turn to turn away, and cry, the sobs wracking her body. "Buffy," I mumbled softly. "Buffy . . ." She ran from me, stopping to breathe. I forced Buffy to look at me, kicking myself for taking out my frustration and anger out on her. "Buffy," I repeated quietly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to . . . I'm sorry." "But you're right." she sobbed. "You're always right." "No, honey," I protested gently. "This time I'm wrong." With a small gasp of surprise, I realized that we were in the exact same spot as the last time. We were even facing each other the same way. With only a slight moment's hesistation, I took her into my arms, stroking her hair. She fit easily into the nape of my neck. Just like the last time. "I'm sorry." I sobbed. "I didn't mean to take it out on you. It's just . . . everything's been so horrible lately." "I understand." she replied, sniffling. "I . . . I'm sorry, but I can't." I said quickly. "You're not supposed to know." I let go of her, and was about to leave, anything to get out of that cursed room where we'd made love, when four simple words made me freeze in place. "Angel." I turned, and looked at her questionably. "Yes?" "I'll never forget." ~*~*~*~*~ I put the phone down, sighing heavily. Angel had once again called to check up on me. I swear, they were acting like I was a fucking baby. In a way, I was. I never had any energy to do anything anymore; all I did was lie in bed, crying. It'd been like that ever since she'd died. Yes, there were moments where I let myself accept that she was dead, but they were few and far between. I preferred to remain in the darkness. But it wouldn't last forever, I reminded myself harshly. Sooner or later I will have to fully accept that's she's gone, and learn to deal. But not now. I'd rather it be later than sooner. "Dammit!" I muttered softly. "I can't do this anymore!" With a weary last gaze at my cushioned sanctuary, I got up, every bone in my body aching. I needed to take a shower. And quickly. I stumbled to the bathroom, pulling off my clothes that still reeked of her blood, and tears, and my sweat. I realized, in a somewhat hazy shock, that I hadn't changed clothes since she died. It was gonna be one hell of a shower. I made it last as long as I could, delaying the inevitable. It had to be sooner. I couldn't waste away like this forever. I would have to pick up the pieces, move on with my life. My life without my Princess. An empty, meaningless existence. I sighed and forced myself not to think, to concentrate on the water, the hot liquid that burned my skin. So my endless thoughts took on another form. Now the hot water scorched my soul, strongly resembling the guilt I felt over her death. Needless to say, it was a very hot, very long shower. And when the water turned cold, so did my tears. ~*~*~*~*~ Another one of those awkward silences I hated so much. Then I repeated myself, hating his steely gaze on me, his face expressionless. He was scaring me. He was scaring me as much as he had when Angelus was around. "I made you a promise once. I promised you I'd never forget, didn't I?" Turning from his emotionless stare that unnerved me, I looked at the kitchen table thoughtfully. "We broke this table." I looked back at him, wanting him to say something, anything at all. Angel blinked, and broke out of his trance. Without looking at me, he crossed the room to the phone. Picking it up quickly, he dialed a number. He listened to the ringing for a second, his back turned. I tried again. "Angel, didn't you hear me? I remember. We can be-" He whirled on me quite suddenly, viciously slamming the phone down. "No, Buffy! We *can't* be! Ever! Whoopy doo! Great, I'm thrilled that you remember! You're not telling me everything!!" "What are you-" "You knew that day in the office, didn't you?" I was completely taken aback. "I . . . yeah, I did." "And you expect me not to be mad? You expect me to just go back to the way things were, take you in my arms, and forget everything you've done?" "Done? What have I ever-" "Spike told me." My blood ran cold. "You know about Parker?" I gasped softly. "You bet I do. Right in the middle of the red hot pokers jabbed through my stomach part of life, he told me. So excuse me if I don't leap into your arms." "That's not fair!" I shot back hotly, the angry tears flooding my eyes. "You broke up with me!" "Oh yeah, sure throw that back at me! And how many times have you broken up with me, Miss I-fucked-the-first-guy-I-met-then-wondered-why- he-dumped-me Summers?" That hurt more than I cared to admit, even to myself. Now he refused to call me by my first name, and his words had slipped into the sarcastic tones of Angelus. "So it is true." I mumbled pitifully. "I'm not good." I smiled weakly. My tears poured down my cheeks even harder without my knowledge. "Thanks for being honest with me this time." He became instantly apologetic, and came to me in two quick strides. "That's exactly what you meant, and you know it!" I sobbed roughly, wanting my words to cut him as deeply as he'd cut me. "No, I didn't; I love-" Despite my blurred vision, I could still punch like a Slayer. He ended up on the floor, and I out the door. I was almost out of his office, when I ran into Doyle. "Doyle?" I stammered, surprised, wiping at my eyes. "What are you doing here?" His eyes were red and bloodshot, and it was painfully obvious that he was drunk out of his mind. He looked at me with dead eyes, though he looked faintly disgusted as he took in my appearance. "Fighting again?" I chuckled without humor, and replied dryly, "Aren't we always?" "That's pathetic." He brushed past me, and scanned the room slowly. I followed his gaze, asking, "What are you looking for?" He didn't answer, and picked up one of Angel's many battleaxes. "Go back to Angel. Whatever's he's said, he doesn't mean it." "How do you know-" "Cordy's filled me in." "Oh," I said softly, as if that one word would ever adequately cover how sorry I felt for him. "Where are you going?" He called over his shoulder in such a tone of determination, that it frightened me, "I'm going to get her back." Angel ran up behind me, and asked, "What was that all about?" I heard Doyle." I kissed him passionately. "What was that for?" "I forgive you. And, besides, you only live once." "But what was Doyle doing here?" "He's gone to see the Oracles." "What?" "He's gonna bring Cordelia back." "What?!" he shrieked. "And you let him go?" "Angel, don't worry about it. You know Doyle better than I do, but I saw the determination on his face. He'll bring her back, or die trying." "I'm hoping it doesn't come to that." Angel replied softly. He looked at me regretfully, the guilt clearly showing deep in his dark brown eyes. "You saw what happened with Cordy. I lashed out all my pent up emotions on the love of my life. What does that say about me?" "It says," I answered, kissing his neck, and going lower down with each word, "That you talk too much." He grinned slyly, and there were no more words between us. ~*~*~*~*~ I wondered where Cordy was. I haven't seen her in months. I was hoping we could catch up, chat about old times. But I didn't know how to contact her. I sighed, and looked at Anya asleep in the bed, slightly guilty. I wanted to talk to Cordy. I dialed the number Angel had scrawled on a sheet of paper quickly, pondering over the last night's events. ~*~*~*~*~ "So what's up, Angel?" Willow asked curiously. "Why did you call us all down here? What's wrong?" Angel averted our gazes, instead staring down at the floor with a haunted look in his eyes. "It's . . . um, it's nothing." he mumbled raggedly. I was slightly taken aback. Angel was crying. "Angel?" Buffy asked, very concerned. She ran to him, forcing him to look at her. "Angel?" she whispered. "Please tell us what's wrong. Tell *me*." Angel lost whatever control he'd been struggling to maintain, and collapsed on the ground, crying freely, pulling Buffy down for the ride. "Angel, Angel, Angel," she sobbed softly. "Please baby, whatever it is you can tell me. You can. Angel, I . . . I love you." He gulped a few times, and stared at her with wide eyes. This was pretty fucking freaky. "She's gone." he sobbed. "She's been gone for a week. And I n- never got to tell her that I- oh god!" He let out a high-pitched tortured scream of sheer despair, and relapsed into incoherent mumblings and sobs. "She?" Buffy asked in complete bewilderment. "Who's she?" Angel refused to answer and gazed at the room with eyes unseeing. His stare settled on me. And, there, staring into those amber-colored depths, I got an inkling of what had happened. Denial. Wonderful word, that. Can mean so many things, hide so many things. Forgetting that you betrayed your best friend, blocking out that Kendra died, and denying that your ex-girlfriend is- "Dead?" I asked, horrified. "Are you sure? She can't be- is she really-" "Dead." he echoed hollowly. "Yes, Buffy. She's dead." I backed away slowly, meeting the wall. I remembered belatedly that Willow, Xander, Oz, and Anya were in the other room. I recalled those last tense moments with Angel sobbing in my arms with mixed feelings. Once he'd refused to answer any of us, I'd given up trying to reach him, and forced him to his feet. Barking at the others to just leave us alone, I'd herded Angel into the closest empty room, which happened to be the dining room. Shaking, quivering, he'd told me the whole story. And instead of denying the fact, I chose guilt. Guilt that I hadn't been there to save her, and, ironically, guilt that I wasn't crying, that I wasn't denying her death. Then I looked at him, my sad, broken Guardian Angel, and everything changed. Now I did cry, I did moan, and clutch him to me, stroking his hair, comforting him in the only way I knew how. It was then, amidst his crazed ramblings, that he told me about Doyle. Seeing Angel, watching his raw pain, and now knowing that somewhere in LA, a man was feeling that same pain, only ten thousand times worse, and alone . . . it was unfathomable. I whispered softly in his ear, "Angel, we need to go see Doyle." He looked at me, confused. "How do you know Doyle?" "Uh, I met him briefly when I was here last. Remember?" I said, too quickly. He gave me an odd look, then shrugged and staggered to his feet. He tripped, and would have fallen if I hadn't been there to catch him. He looked up at me, bleary-eyed. "Buffy?" he asked, struggling to focus. "Yes, baby. I'm here. I'll always be here to catch you when you fall." I pulled him up, making him put one arm over my shoulder, ignoring his pleas and protests that he could walk on his own. "No, you can't." I said firmly. "Now don't make me carry you." He finally stopped struggling and let me lead him out of the room back into the lobby where the others were waiting. Ignoring their questioning looks, I said only "A friend needs our help." We were almost out the door when Xander stopped me with a- and this is the part that makes me shiver even now: he somehow *knew*- "Buffy." "Yeah, Xand?" I asked softly. "Take care of her for me." I drew in a shocked breath of utter surprise. "Yeah, Xand," I managed once I'd recovered. "I'll do that." We walked out. ~*~*~*~*~ So I dialed that number scrawled on that sheet of paper, even though deep inside me, I knew Cordy wouldn't be there. But again, there's that lovely little word called denial. "Hello?" a male voice answered huskily. "Angel." I replied, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. "Xander. Why are you-" "I know." He pleaded ignorance, though I could swear I heard him gasp him in surprise, which was impossible, considering he had no breath. "Know? What do you know?" "I know that she's dead." "But how? Buffy told me that she didn't tell anyone." "She didn't." I answered grimly. "Then how-" "Your eyes, Dead Boy. Plus the whole 'She's gone! She's gone!' thing. Kinda gave me half a clue." "Oh." He was silent. I, on the other hand, was not. I sobbed, covering my hand with my mouth, vainly trying to muffle the tears. He heard 'em. Of course he did. "Xander, listen." he said urgently. "Get control of yourself. A friend of mine, Doyle, has gone to the Powers That Be to get her back." "Oh, yeah?" I retorted. "Who's this guy? How do you know he's reliable?" He growled on the other end. "Don't talk about him that way, Xander." His words were sheer ice. "Sorry." I mumbled sheepishly. "Doyle cares for her more than his own life. He'll bring her back, or die trying." "Well, for all of us, I hope it's the former, Angel. I don't think I could take anymore death." "Me too, Xand." he replied softly. "Me too." ~*~*~*~*~ I nervously stood over the offering bowl meant to summon the Oracles. Mumbling the Latin poorly and pouring the stinky herbs in with trembling hands, I didn't notice anyone else was there until they caught the herbs and dumped them back in. I looked up and saw Angel and his Slayer. At my bemused expression, he said only: "You didn't think we'd let you do this one your own, did you?" "I knew you'd come." I replied honestly. "It's just that it's a surprise seeing you and your Slayer together again." At his arched eyebrow, I added hastily, "I mean, I know what she looks like from pictures." "Doyle, it's okay." Angel replied, chuckling. "She-" "Remembers." Buffy filled in, her eyes dancing. She looked at Angel in confusion. "I thought you said no one was supposed to know except you." "That's how it's supposed to be." Angel said, turning questioning eyes towards me. I laughed, for the first time in over a week. "Don't look at me," I replied, still chuckling. "We'll ask 'em when we get inside, aye?" Buffy grinned, saying, in a pretty good impression of my Irish brogue, "Aye." "Are we ready to do this?" They nodded, exhaling loudly, though I didn't hear Angel. "All right, let's go." I couldn't shake the feeling that, to get my Cordy out, we were going to have to go through Hell. And back again. ~*~*~*~*~ "I'm sorry," the female said patiently. "We can't bring her back. That is not in our power." "But you must be able to! You brought Angel back from Hell; you should be able to get 'er out of Heaven?" "Yes, we should." the male agreed. "But she's not in Heaven." "Where is she?" I growled. "She's in Hell. Her soul was misplaced. So you see we can't get her out. Hell is beyond our boundaries." "But it's not beyond ours." Buffy broke in. "Open a portal, let us in." Doyle shot a grateful look at her. "Yeah, we know you can do that." "Please." I said roughly. "We need her." They were silent for a long time, keeping us in suspense. "All right," the female said at last. "We will open a portal." We all grinned, but he stopped us with a raised hand. "Beware though Warriors, our protection will not extend into that dimension. You can be hurt. You can die. Be careful. We can't afford to lose the three of you. You are our strongest warriors." He cocked an eyebrow at Doyle. "Yes, even you Alan Francis Doyle." He exhaled loudly. "Good luck." And then we were being thrown the portal. I couldn't see anything for an instant, and then light touched our eyes. We were in Hell. ~*~*~*~*~ I'm so cold . . . I thought in terror as I drifted through the freezing water, unable to move. My worst nightmare had always been to be cold, and alone, and wet. "No!" I whimpered, but my voice had no strength. My legs began to go numb . . . "No!!!" I tried again, with more strength. "I'm a fucking corpse! How the hell can I freeze to death when I'm not even alive?" But it was clearly a losing battle. I refused to give up. "Did you hear that, Satan?" I shouted defiantly to the night above. "I'm Cordelia Chase, and I'm not gonna be beaten by a little demon who I can't even see!" My voice faded as my concentration wavered. The mind-numbing pain, all over my body was so hard to bear . . . "I won't be-" was all I managed before the darkness clouded my thoughts entirely, and I slipped into the abyss. ~*~*~*~*~ A sharp pang of ice went through me, and I shivered in reaction. "She's close," I said solemnly. "She's . . . she's in trouble! Come on, we gotta find her!" I glanced back at Angel, who looked decidely uncomfortable and looked back and forth every 5 seconds. "Angel, man," I said impatiently. "Now is not the time to be stuck in the past. We have ta help Cordy." He nodded, and tried to focus on me, but couldn't. "I'm sorry," he said finally. "I can't. This place, you don't know what it's like. It sucks away any trace of human love and compassion you've ever known, and after it's done with that, it starts eating away at your soul." He started trembling, unable to stop. I snapped. Shoving Buffy out of the way, I got up in his face, and tried to convince him to get moving, but to no avail. "Doyle," Buffy said tensely. "Let me handle this." I shrugged, and let her walk to the now hunched over Angel. "Who do you think you are?" she snapped bitterly. "Why are you crashing on us now? Why do you pick now, after we've been in here for hours, to crash and burn?" she scoffed. "Pretty pathetic, Angel." "Go on without me," he stuttered without looking up. "I'll only get in your way." I looked at Buffy, who looked like she was about to burst a blood vessel. "HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL BEFORE IT SINKS IN?!!!" she screamed. She easily grasped his collar with one hand, and hoisted him into the air. He looked at her blearily, lost in his memories. "You are not worthless! You are not! You will never be! God dammit, Angel! Do you know how many nights I cried over you, thinking you were dead? I killed you, Angel! I killed you, I got expelled, I watched all my friends almost get butchered, those aren't happy memories! So you think a few hundred years in Hell measures up to that?" She chuckled grimly. "Maybe it's more, but to me they're the same. And you don't see me lying on the ground brooding, do you?" He couldn't answer. "I said," she repeated tensely. "You don't see me brooding, do you?" He looked her in the eyes, and after a long moment's hesistation, nodded. "No," he croaked softly. "No, I don't." "All right then," she said with a satisfied nod, dropping him to the ground. She glanced at me, a triumphant smile apparent on her features. "Let's go." I shrugged, and led the way. Behind me, I heard Angel say: "Buffy, I'm-" "Don't." she replied. "I don't wanna hear it. I'm sick and tired of your apologies. I get it. You're sorry. You can shut up now." "But I-" I grew sick of it, and bit out, "God, you two act like you're married." An uncomfortable silence from both sides. I glanced back, and was surprised to see Angel looking down at his feet. He looked like he was about to confess something big. But Buffy beat him to it. She laughed at my confused expression, and clarified innocently, "Didn't you know? We are." ~*~*~*~*~ At her news, my heart almost started beating. I blinked and stared at her. Blinked. Stared. Blinked. And stared. Doyle, who'd been on edge ever since he'd felt that blast of cold, gave up and went off on his own looking for Cordy, leaving us alone. "You knew," I managed finally. "You knew the whole time." "No, I didn't." she responded. "Not the whole time. I would have told you if I had." "Knowing your track record, you wouldn't have," I snapped without thinking. She silently stared at me, not even bothering to reply. I sighed, and, remembering her words to stop apologizing, I asked sharply, "How long?" "I found out the summer after you'd gone," she said simply. "Giles saw the ring, and asked me about it." "But you don't have it anymore!" I protested, not realizing until just that instant how hurt I was that she'd given up my gift. "You dropped it in the mansion." "I went back and got it after you left me." she said simply. "Sort of a reminder." She drew out a necklace that glistened with silver. It held the Claddagh. My eyes bugged out. "I've never taken it off," She sighed, a shuddering sob that tore at my heart. "Guess I like torturing myself with bittersweet memories." I was about to argue when an actual intelligent thought intervened. Why were we always wasting time arguing? She wasn't gonna live forever, and soon as she died, I was going to catch some rays. In short, life was precious. Without another word, I walked to her, kissing her fiercely. "What are you doing?" "Carpe diem." I gasped. "What?" she asked in confusion. "Something about fish?" I rolled my eyes impatiently. "Kiss me." She gladly obliged. ~*~*~*~*~ I couldn't find her. I searched and searched, but I could never find her. *Where is she?* I thought desperately. *Where could she be?* "Cordelia!!" I shouted, for lack of any brighter ideas. "Cordy, where are you? I'm coming!" There was no answer. With a sigh of defeat, I slumped to the ground and started to sob quietly. I'll never find her. I thought gloomily. I'll be stuck in here forever, and I'll never find her. I would have stayed that way forever, but a voice intruded on my thoughts. *Gentle warrior,* a female voice, that I recognized as the Oracle, said softly. *Do not let the fact that you can't see her put you down. Sometimes it is the things that you can't see that are directly in front of you.* It faded away, leaving me confused. "Directly in front of me?" I repeated softly. "What can she mean-" I broke off in horror. A light had shimmered into view on this dark plane, making me see an ocean, its frigid waters washing up to lap at my ankles. In the midst of this terror was a fastly sinking Cordelia. "Princess," I rasped, diving into the water without a second thought. I'd do anything for Cordy. Always. ~*~*~*~*~ Doyle... Doyle's coming, I can feel him near me. But I'm so weak, I don't know if I can stay conscious. Thousands of rusty knives jabbing into every inch of my rapidly blue skin. All I could breathe was water. When I opened my eyes, all I saw, all I felt, all I knew was the sea. The utter hopelessness and helplessness that overcame at that moment was overwhelming. Then Doyle came. I couldn't open my eyes to see him; they were frozen shut. But I could feel his strong arms wrapping around my body, swimming us back to shore. I could feel his lilting Irish accent whisper: "Don't worry Cordy; everything's all right now." "Doyle?" I gasped in disbelief, though I knew he was there, knew that he'd always been there. "I can't see you. I can't open my eyes." "It's all right, Princess," he repeated. "You're safe. I'll take care of you." We reached the shore, and I sighed, at peace at last, and let the darkness claim me, for the first time unafraid. Because I was with Doyle. ~*~*~*~*~ Thank God. That's all I could think right then. Thank God. I had her back. After what seemed like forever, I finally had her back. Her eyelids were caked with ice, and her entire body was blue. I carefully picked the ice of her eyes, then set to work getting rid of that color that seemed permanent. I rubbed her arms and legs vigorously, trying to get some life back into her. She shivered and moaned, though she was asleep. She was wearing the same clothes she'd been in when she died. That was hard for me to take, all I could see was her body lying in that cold, dark alley as she slowly bled to death, her last words being her declaration of love for me . . . I shuddered at the memory. She moved at my sound, and painfully opened her eyes, staring at me a long time. Cordy wet her lips, and stated, "Doyle." "Princess-" I began, but, before I could even blink, she was in my arms, crying hysterically, latching onto me tightly, as if fearing I'd disappear. I was shocked at first. This brave, slightly bitchy woman who I knew and loved so well was crying like a baby. I took her in my arms, gently stroking her hair, kissing those damned tears away, until she calmed down. "Oh god," she sighed, breaking away to look deeply into my eyes, "I've missed you so much." "Me too." I replied hoarsely, loving being able to caress her hair, to smell her perfume that was uniquely hers alone. "Cordelia, I . . ." I hesistated; I'd never had the chance to tell her before. "You what?" "I love you." She grinned at me. "I know you do, silly! I love you too. But do you know how we're going to-" Before the sentence was even completely off her delicious lips, we weren't in Hell anymore. All four of us were back in Angel's apartment like we'd never left. A familiar voice said softly, *Congratulations, Warriors. I must admit that I had doubts as to whether or not you would succeed. I was mistaken. I have taken the liberty of binding Angel's soul to him, so you can, as you say, get pelvic.* "We already have," Buffy muttered, thinking no one heard. She flushed red when she saw the expressions on our faces. *Yes, I know. You've showed true courage, all of you, and you've gone one step higher in our eyes. Congratulations. May all your battles prove successful.* And then she was gone. "That's it?" Cordy asked from her comfortable position in my arms. "I die and go to Hell because of their "mistake" and they don't even do anything for us?" She snorted. "Nice bunch of people they are." I chuckled, and kissed her forehead tenderly. "Come on, Princess let's leave these two lovebirds to their own devices." I winked at Buffy and Angel, and escorted a still weak Cordelia out of the office, leaving them alone. When we got outside, she fainted. With a sigh of mild concern, I swung her into my arms, and called a taxi to take us to my apartment. My life certainly could be nuts at times. ~*~*~*~*~ Epilogue “I wonder if they realize they have not returned after all,” commented the darkling. “I wonder if they know that everything around them is just an illusion.” “Even if they don’t,” remarked the entity who floated above the darkling. “They will soon enough. Soon they will know and understand the true meaning of-“ “Terror.” “While we have taken the freedom of binding Angel’s soul to him, for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.” The darkling whispered these poisonous words. “Well boys,” said a new voice as it entered the fiery pit. “Things are about to get very interesting.” Said all three. Angelus chuckled as he looked up towards the sky where four people walked, oblivious to the truth. “Very interesting indeed.” ~*~*~*~*~ The End? Hehe, I am evil, aren't I? Let me know!