Chapter 2- Cordelia
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"Nobody else here baby no one else here to blame,
No one to point the finger...
It's just you and me and the rain ,
Nobody made you do it, no one put words in your mouth,
Nobody here taking orders when love took a train heading south..."
I knew that voice. It was familiar; the sweet, melodious tune that rolled off his tongue. The song was so beautiful and harmonious that I felt the hairs stand erect on the back of my neck. I allowed the singing to surround me, engulfing my mind in its smooth melody.
Lorne.
I could recognize his voice anywhere. Why was he singing to me? He only ever sang when he was performing, preferring to hum instead. His voice was angelic and the lyrics...
Oh, God.
He was singing it to me, for me. Images of blood, destruction and death assaulted me, flying through my mind as if somebody had flipped the switch of a slide show and I couldn’t turn it off. Doyle kissing me and giving me the visions; Connor’s birth and his return; the Beast and his destructive ways; my night with Connor, and the conception of...whatever my child was.
Oh, God.
My eyes flew open as a cry escaped my lips and through the tears that marred my vision I saw Lorne jump in shock. His eyes widened in surprise and his lips formed the shape of a small ‘o’. Almost immediately his expression was one of pure joy and happiness.
"Cordelia, honey!" he exclaimed. "You’re awake! This is amazing...How are you, sugar-lips?" His eyes narrowed and he hurried forward, wrapped his arms around my neck and lifted me into a tight hug. I remained still, confused to why I could feel the relief coming off him in waves.
Why was he relieved that I was awake? Why wasn’t he running away and screaming? Why was he even touching me?
A strangled cry bubbled from my mouth and I forcefully pushed him away from me. Tears fell from my eyes and tumbled down my cheeks, but I paid them no heed. I struggled to breathe, inhaling sharp, short breaths that gave me no oxygen. I began to shake uncontrollably, my skin itching horribly.
I saw Lorne run from the room and felt my breathing begin to speed. He was scared of me and he did hate me, loathed me even. And if he detested me, he hadn’t forgiven me. And that meant the others hadn’t either.
Oh, God.
Angel. Fred. Gunn. Wesley. Connor. How much had I hurt them? I had manipulated them, played them against each other and tried to kill them. How could they look at me ever again? I curled myself into a ball and pulled my knees up under my chin. The sobs began to come louder and more frequent. This was the story of my life.
Cordelia Chase, a complete screw up. I was a terrible child who threw tantrums whenever I didn’t get the dolls I wanted. A smart-ass teenager who bought tops but threw them away after I’d worn them once. I was a bitchy senior who couldn’t keep friends or boyfriends if my life depended on it. A hopeless actress who couldn’t even score the simplest advertising job. I used to be the helpful seer to a Champion. And now...I was a lonely woman, turned evil by my child, turned against my friends, and...Nothing. I can’t remember anything past the birth of my child.
The ritual I completed to bring forth my labor filled my mind’s eye, and I squeezed my eyes shut in a futile attempt to block it out. The poor girl I killed- killed heartlessly- was indented into the back of my head, her frightened eyes crying out for mercy, and her lifeless body dropping to the ground after I had convinced Connor to kill her.
Connor. How could I hurt him so much? After all the work Angel had done to improve the relationship between them, I had undone it all in a single night. I had known the second after our lovemaking- if that’s what you would call it- that something was wrong. After that, everything is a haze of images and words that I don’t remember saying, but somehow know that I did say.
What did I become? I was there the whole time, but I couldn’t get through. I watched everything I did, every mistake they made, and I had no say in anything. I was a spectator of my own life, and I watched it become worse and worse.
Lorne came back in, his worry obvious in his uneasy stance. He settled himself on the edge of his bed.
"Cordelia," he said in his singsong voice. "Welcome back. We’ve missed you heaps, honey."
I shot up and shook my head quickly, refusing to believe it.
"N-no," I croak, my voice cracking from the lack of use. "No."
"What, Delia, sweet-cheeks? Tell me what’s wrong!"
I shook my head again, shrinking back from his outreached hand. His eyes narrowed in confusion, and he dropped his hand to the bed cover.
"Don’t worry, Cordelia," he soothed. "Angel and the gang will be back soon. That is, if Wes doesn’t drive off the road in his hurry to get here. But I’m sure they’ll be fine, sleeping beauty."
I screamed. And screamed, and screamed until I could scream no more. I couldn’t see them, couldn’t let them look at me with hatred. I didn’t want to feel the way Angel had felt when we discovered his past deeds. How it felt for people to look at you as less than human, as dirt beneath their feet. I was terrified of how they might forgive me with their words, but not extend it to their heart.
I remained cowered in the corner of the large bed. I was in the same position when I heard the entrance doors to the hotel bang shut and the thudding of their footsteps along the corridor, and the collective gasp when they entered my room and saw me.
I forced myself to meet their eyes, expecting the hard, cold gazes of the people who used to be my friends, who used to be my family. And met eyes filled with hope, delight and relief.
"Cordy," Angel breathed, breaking the tense silence that had filled the room.
There was a squeal of delight and Fred leapt onto me, wrapping me in her tiny body. I stiffened, drawing in a sharp breath as she continued to embrace me. Angel knelt beside my bed and picked up my hand, holding it so firmly that I thought it might bruise. Wesley and Gunn stood at the end of my bed beside Lorne, smiling happily.
"No!" I shrieked, startling Fred and stunning the others. I scrambled from the bed and cowered in the corner of the room. "No, you can’t! Y-you can’t..." My voice dropped to a whisper and fresh tears fell down my cheeks.
"Can’t, what?" Angel asked gently, slowly inching towards me. I was shaking again, but I couldn’t stop.
"Can’t forgive me," I whispered in reply, hating how meek and small my voice sounded.
The silence was deafening and I waited for one of them to say it. To say that they didn't forgive me and never would. I didn’t deserve their forgiveness and friendship, their concern or worry. I deserved to be kicked out on the curb, maybe sent back to the hell from which I came- Sunnydale.
Why wouldn’t they speak? Say something? Yell, scream and blame me for their troubles? I did it! I wanted to scream at them. I killed people, and I nearly killed you! How can they just stare?
"Cordelia," Wesley said. "That isn’t even an issue. We don’t forgive you."
We... don’t... forgive... you...
Those four words each sliced a hole in my heart, cutting it away bit by bit.
"Because there’s nothing to forgive," he continued.
Wait, what?
"It wasn’t you, Cordelia. You may have been in that body somewhere, but it wasn’t you. You had no control, no chance to stop the evil that was inside you. We don't blame you."
They don’t blame me? Then why do I blame myself?
Angel quietly asked the others to leave, which they did hesitantly, and he shut the door behind them. Turning around slowly, he gazed at me with what looked like understanding. I knew that he knew what it was like to do something without being in control, to know that people had died by your hand. It was a pain that few had experienced, and, being one of those few, it was the last thing in the world I would wish on another person.
"Cordy," he began, helplessly holding out his hand to me.
"Don’t," I whispered. "It won’t help."
"I know," he replied softly, and I heard the sincerity in his voice. I raised my eyes to meet his.
"W-when I saw what you-Angelus- had done, I thought I would never be able to look at you the same." I laughed bitterly. "I never thought I would do the exact same thing."
"You didn’t," he responded persistently. "What you did...it was nothing compared to what I have done."
"Yes, it was," I said, still edging away from him. "Because I was human when I did it. I could have fought it..."
"No, you couldn’t!" he protested, striding forward and grasping my shoulders with his hands. He forced me to look into his eyes. "You couldn’t," he repeated softly.
"But..."
"No, Cordy. It wasn’t your fault, so please stop it. Stop blaming yourself."
I refused to believe him. I had done so much damage, caused so much pain. "But Connor, what I did to him..."
~~~
I drew in a sharp breath, staring at my Seer in horror. How? How could she remember him? She wasn’t supposed to remember him. No one was, except for me. Yet here she was, talking about him like he was still in my life, still my son. Why did it still hurt so much?
I pulled her into a gentle hug, sat her on the bed and proceeded to tell her everything that had happened after Jasmine’s birth. I saw the pain and guilt I caused her, but she needed to hear it and I knew that it was better for her to know now, rather than by some accidental remark later. She deserved to hear it from me, and she deserved the truth.
It all spilled from my lips, my feelings, my thoughts and my pain. I couldn’t stop and I found myself revealing everything to Cordelia. She sat beside me, motionless and silent, and waited for me to finish. Once I trailed off there was a moment of silence and then she began to talk. She spoke of everything that came to her mind, and I listened without interrupting. I was amazed at how easy it was to just sit and listen to her, and I found myself feeling slightly better.
We spoke about Connor, and agreed to have Lorne perform the spell that would erase him from our memories. At first I bluntly refused, but Cordelia, having been close to Connor first as a mother and then as a lover, persuaded me to let him go. He deserved a life of normality and if I still remembered him and watched over him, hanging over his shoulder at every corner in his life, then he would always be in danger.
It nearly killed me, but I agreed. Once more I had to walk away from true happiness so that, like Buffy, Connor would be safe. Safe from the life that no one should lead, and safe from me.
~~~
Please review! Next chapter- Giles
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