Title: The Past Repeats
Author: Calandra

Disclaimer: Cordy, Angel and Doyle don't belong to me but the story's mine.
Distribution: Ask first.
Feedback: Please
Summary: Cordy gets an unexpected visit
Rating: G

"So, what was your crime?" A bony woman, who couldn't be half as old as she
looked, asked me, never looking up from her clipboard. I shook my head and
could only manage to get out a few confused sounds. After a moment, the
woman met my eyes, her expression was tough, almost unpleasant. "Let me
give it to you straight Mr… Daniels, people don't come here willingly. No
one wants to see the illness, the death. They come because they have
speeding or parking tickets that they don't want to pay. What did you do?"

I admit that I stared for a moment ; I saw now that what had at first
seemed like age was in fact a complete lack of hope, for happiness or human
goodness. I passed a hand through my hair and coughed uncomfortably. "I, I
didn't do anything. I'm starting medical school and, well, I want to help
people."

"And it would look very nice on your transcript that you 'volunteered at an
old folks' home."

"No, that's not…" I tried to object, to tell her and maybe myself as well
that I was just a good person who wanted to help. But she didn't listen,
she was already glancing down at her clipboard again, considering the
matter closed.

"Since you're new, I suggest block A. They're all lucid, just can't take
care of themselves anymore. So pick someone chat 'til you feel you've paid
your debt to society and stay outta my way." With that she slammed the door
to the nurses' office and sat at the single desk.

I sighed, looking around me at the sterile corridors and wheelchair-bound
patients. I stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do. I finally got
my courage together and found myself walking in the block labelled A.

I saw a sleeping man, his face wracked with terror as if he fear that he
might never wake up. I kept walking. A woman swallowed a handful of pills
and rose a shaking glass to her cracked lips. I walked on. A man bent over
in two with coughing. I swallow and continued on. A woman sat in a chair,
her back to the door, and stared at the sun without moving.

I was about to continue again but froze. I don't know if it was her quiet
dignity or the glimpse of her oddly familiar silhouette but I couldn't walk
away from her. I carefully approached the door. I knocked softly, and when
she didn't react, a little more loudly.

She turned her head ever so slightly. "Angel, is that you?"

I cleared my throat and glanced at the name tag on the door. "No, I'm sorry
Mrs. Chase, I'm not. Can I come in?"

"Of course, make yourself comfortable." As she said this, she turned fully
around and I froze again. Her eyes stared blankly at the air in front of
her. Her lips rose in a cynical smile. "Yes, I'm blind, that doesn't mean
that I can't tell when someone's standing around like an idiot. Have a
seat."

I swallowed uncomfortably and sat on the edge of the bed, facing her. I
took a moment to study her. She looked to be in her 60s. She must have once
been incredibly beautiful. Flecks of dark hair still fought through the
grey and she sat tall and proud. He rings were loose on her fingers and her
skin was no longer free of wrinkles but her smile was youthful, it had a
life of it's own. It was the type of smile that you saw once in a lifetime…
though for a moment it seemed very familiar to me.

I shook my head to rid myself of the weird sensation of déjà vu and looked
about for a subject of conversation. My eyes locked on a picture frame with
5 pictures in it. I picked it up carefully. "Are these your brothers?"

"Husbands." She corrected, her lips raising again.

"Husbands?"

"The five biggest mistakes of my life." She shook her head and gazed off in
the distance, her sightless eyes seeming to focus on something far in the
past. "Wesley Wyndam-Price, number 1, it didn't last 2 months. I was so
lonely after… I would have accepted a proposition from anyone. Wesley was
there, nothing more substantial than that."

"people make mistakes." I offered.

"But not Cordelia Chase, or at least that's what I thought at the time. 2
and 3 were money, I don't even remember their names. Alexander Harris,
Xander, my high school sweetheart; we thought we could relight the passion,
mend each other's pain. We had a daughter, Willow,… I haven't heard from
her in two years. And her father… lets just say we didn't part on friendly
terms." She stopped for a moment and lowered her head. I could have sworn
that I saw tears in her eyes.

I moved to a chair closer to hers and placed my hand over hers. My heart
ached at the pain of this woman who I never met before but who seemed so
familiar. "What about 5?"

"He's the reason for these," she gestured at her eyes. "Head trauma. He
didn't like my relationship with my boss to put it lightly." She laughed a
little to lighten the mood but it sounded forced. "I guess he might have
been a little jealous that I spent my nights at the office."

I cleared my throat again and placed the frame back in its place. There was
a moment of silence as Cordelia collected herself and I desperately tried
not to seem as uncomfortable as I felt.

"So, what do you do when you aren't listening to the old and ugly whine
about their pathetic love lives?"

"I don't go out much," I glanced at her, then down at my hands. "I like to
read."

"What's your favourite book?"

"Angela's Ashes."

She closed her eyes and clutched a medallion that hung around her neck.
That was his favourite." She said softly before I could ask who 'he' was,
she continued. "Do you have a girlfriend?"

I started to shake my head until I remembered her eyes. "No, I want to do
well in school… there will always be time for love later."

I regretted my answer as soon as it left my lips because she grasped my
wrist in a vice-like grip.

"Don't waste your chance at love for success or respectability or whatever.
True love only comes once and if you wait too long, if you miss your
chance…" Her voice cracked and now I saw the tears run down her cheeks.

Without warning she rose her hands to my face and gently felt the contours.
Her smile became melancholy. Her hand lingered on my dark hair for a moment
before dropping back to her lap. "You remind me of him somehow… the way you
talk, listen, your voice. I would swear that you were Doyle in the flesh if
your face weren't so different." She clutched the medallion and turned her
chair back towards the window and the setting sun.

I stood to leave but her voice stopped me. "Would you do one thing for me?
Call me princess."

"Ok…princess, I'll be back in a day or so."

She smiled. "You won't come back… they never do. But just in case, what's
your name?"

"Francis, Francis Daniels." I waited for a minute but when she didn't say
anything, left.

I nearly ran into the tall, dark man standing in the entrance to her room.
His deep, ageless eyes pierced through me, seeming to see into my soul. He
then walked past me into the room. I heard part of their conversation as I
left.

"Was that…?"

"Yes, I never thought we'd meet again."

"Your souls are tied together but he doesn't remember his last life?"

The only answer were muffled sobs.

FIN