TITLE: Mourning Song
AUTHOR: Ragna (Obsessive-Compulsive Spike - SpikeGrrl1@aol.com; 
fourstarmaryfan@yahoo.com)
PART OF: Only In My Dreams, Part 5 of 5
RATING: PG-13, for adult language.
CLASSIFICATION: Doyle/Cordy, mentions of other relationships.
SPOILERS: All of Season 4, I guess, and all of A:TS season 1
DISTRIBUTION: Only if you have the other four parts already.
ARCHIVED AT: http://www.angelfire.com/de/hellmouth/myfic2.html
DISCLAIMER: If you don't recognize it, chances are it's my own creation. If 
you do, Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Kazui Sandollar, FOX and the WB own it or 
them. I'm just holding Spike and Riley hostage. Carolyn's got Xander, May's 
got Oz & Giles, Cathryn's got Ethan & Wesley, Melissa has Forrest, Shelly has 
Angel, and Gillian has Doyle. You may see them by appointment only. The song 
is "I of the Mourning" by The Smashing Pumpkins, off their new CD "MACHINA: 
The Machines of God," which I highly recommend people buy. Kick-ass CD.
FEEDBACK: Sorry I'm not home right now I'm walking in the spiderwebs so leave 
a message and I'll call you back...in other words, I want it. Don't care if 
it's onlist or not.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Okay, I'm finally writing fic again! Yay! And this is also a 
challenge answer to challenge #10. 

~*~*~*~*~*~

Cordelia stared flatly at the Prozac Angel had given her. She opened the 
bottle, cautiously, and took one out, looking at it. Did she really want to 
take it?

The dreams had stopped, but the nightmares had continued. Or was it the other 
way around? She was so lost in this dream world...

First there was the Master, tormenting her, but Doyle had been able to save 
her. Then there had been Xander...then the Annointed one...then Spike...then 
Anyanka...and then so many more demons she lost count.

But she beat each and every one, beat them into submission. She didn't need 
the Prozac, and so she put it back into the bottle, leaving it on her 
windowsill.


**radio, play my favorite song radio, radio radio, 
i'm alone radio radio, please don't go radio**


\\ I of the Mourning...what a perfect song title // she thought bitterly as 
she went to lay in bed. She lit her candle, the only light in the room, and 
set her head on the pillow intent on falling asleep and getting that night's 
assault over with.

No sooner did sleep take over than she woke up. The room was pitch black, 
except for the lone burning candle and the slight outline of another person 
in the room.

"Who...who's there?" Cordelia asked, getting fearful. The room had never been 
this dark before, never.

"You know."


**i peer through curtains on empty streets behind a wall of color writing 
no one's out there to hear if i care about the troubles in the air**


The voice..."Noooooo..." Cordelia began, sitting upright in bed. The figure 
moved towards the window, where the moon suddenly shone on the figure, 
showing everything but her face. But Cordelia didn't need to see the face to 
know who it was.

The figure set her hand on the windowsill, directly in between the bottle of 
Prozac and the dead roses, roses from Doyle's funeral. Her manicured fingers 
glistened in the pale moonlight, the same shade of vibrant red as Cordelia's.

"What, afraid of little old me? The biggest bitch to come out of Sunnydale 
since...you?" 


**cause i of the mourning now go pick up where my thoughts left off 
cause i'm home to die on my own**


The figure looked out the window, beckoning for Cordelia to get up and join 
her. "It'll be over soon, bitch," the figure spat out.

Cordelia still didn't move, staying in the safety of her bed, her hand over 
the ring Doyle had given her so long ago, after the Master.

"Fine, if you don't want to get your pampered ass up. There's a stray dog 
down there...matted fur, dirty. My, my...looks just like you, Cordy."

"Stop..."

"Just like you."


**as my radio plays my favorite song 
radio, radio radio, don't you konw 
radio, radio radio, i'm alone**


The figure moved closer to the bed. A dollhouse materialized on the 
nightstand, a dollhouse that looked a lot like her home in Sunnydale. The 
figure snickered slightly, opening the dollhouse. "Each room is a different 
place, important to you. Want to see what real people have been doing since 
you faded away from them?"

The closest room showed Willow and another girl, sitting in a protected 
circle, casting a spell. And then there was Buffy nursing a blonde boy back 
to health, Giles studying like always, Spike trying to sleep in a deserted 
mausoleum, Xander kissing Anya, Faith still in her coma-like slumber, Angel 
hunting the bad guys with Wesley's help, Kate asleep in her bed, safe...

"They don't care about you, Cordelia. They never did, they never will."


**i've blown the dust off my guitar in the attic with the stars 
i read your letters to feel better my tears upon the faded ink**


The figure pushed the dollhouse aside, closing it and breaking parts off, the 
sounds of Cordelia's ex friends silencing. Everything had seemed so real 
right then, like they had really been doing all those things in the rooms of 
her old house. 

Cordelia looked right at the figure. She knew exactly who it was. "You didn't 
show Doyle."

The figure laughed. "How could I? He's dead...you helped kill him, you know. 
If you'd told him how you felt, he wouldn't have jumped. Wouldn't have tried 
to be the hero..."

Cordelia glared at the figure, finally giving up patience and slapping it.


**cause i of the mourning now go pick up where my thoughts left off 
cause i'm home to die on my own** 


The figure stood still, looking at Cordelia. "You're supposed to be weak."

"Supposed to be. But as you said, I'm the biggest bitch to comeout of 
Sunnydale." Cordelia threw the covers off her bad, standing exactly the same 
height as the figure. She grabbed the figure by the arm, pulled her towards 
the window, and looked her in the eye.

Looked *herself* in the eyes.

"I'm my own worst fear," Cordelia breathed, letting go of the unmasked 
figure's hand.


**as my radio plays my favorite song 
radio, radio radio, i'm alone 
radio, radio radio, please don't go** 


The other Cordelia smirked. "Took you long enough to realize that." She sat 
on the windowsill, taking the bottle of Prozac. "I was hoping you were weak. 
I was going to have you swallow the whole bottle, you know. If you die in 
your dreams, you die in real life."

The double popped open the top, taking out a pill and handing it to Cordelia. 
"Come on...take one. I'll even take the first one." She took out another pill 
and popped it into her mouth, dry swallowing it. Opening her mouth, she moved 
her tounge around, showing she had swallowed it.

She handed the pill over to Cordelia once more. Cordelia hesitated, taking 
the pill and keeping it in her hand. "You're in my dream, right?"

The double stared at her. "Yeah...so?"


**i sit in the dark light to wait for ghost night 
to bring the past to life to make a toast to life 
cause i have survived** 


Very slowly, Cordelia moved towards her nightstand. She made the motion of 
getting her cup of water, instead grabbing the candle. "So...if you die here, 
you die?"

"Yeah?"

Cordelia turned, tossing the lit candle onto her double. The pricey clothing 
set fire quickly, her double screaming in agony. Cordelia watched as her 
double, her guilt, went up in flames. But as her double flailed, other things 
caught on fire, and soon the room was getting filled with smoke. The only way 
out was the window.

Cordelia threw the vase witht he dead flowers at the curtain, dousing it for 
a moment, then quickly opened the window, looking for the trusty fire escape.

It was gone.


**what is it you want what is it you want to change 
what is it you want what is it you want to change 
what is it you want to change**


She shook her head, seeing the stray dog down there. It looked nothing like 
her, nothing at all. Cordelia wasn't a bitch anymore. Very carefully, she 
prayed that she wouldn't die...she wanted to wake up from this dream.

Kissing her ring lightly, she jumped. The falling sensation scared her, and 
she shut her eyes, expecting her death any moment now.

But death never came. 


**radio, radio, radio, radio 
radio, radio, radio, radio 
radio, radio, radio, radio 
what is it you want what is it you want to change 
what is it you want what is it you want to change 
what is it you want to change**


***

Cordelia gasped, opening her eyes and sitting up in bed. "No!"

"What?" Angel asked, coming into her room from his normal place by her door.

"I...I dreamed I was fighting all these demons so Doyle could come back, and 
the last one was me. Me! And she wanted me to commit suicide, but I was too 
strong, so I set her on fire, but the whole apartment ended up burning, and 
then I jumped out the window, and I thought I was going to die, but 
someone...caught...me..."

She bolted out of her bed and headed to the window, hoping to see someone, 
something...and saw nothing. When she turned around, Angel was staring at 
her, before a wide smile broke on his face.

"Did you loose it or something, Angel? Why are you smiling? I'm freaked out 
here!"

"He's smiling because I'm here, Princess, and he just figured out why."

Cordelia stared a moment in the direction of her door. 

The door all the demons had come through...

The door Doyle was now leaning against.

"I'm back."

Anything else he'd have wanted to say was never said because Cordelia was 
running to him, holding him, kissing him...mumbling "It worked" every time 
she took a breath.

A few moments later, he said softly, "Yeah, Princess, it worked," as he held 
Cordelia, who had been reduced to a sobbing mess. "It worked."