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No Going Home

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I've grown to see the philosophy of my own mistrust [Jan. 11th, 2006|04:25 am]
No Going Home

[music |Some of Us- Starsailor]

The house grew quiet as Spike continued to rest, still recooperating from the blow delivered by Angel. I understood why Angel had struck Spike but it seemed a useless attempt at revenge. With Faith's sudden disappearance Spike's injuries were hardly cared for.

I'd spent enough time around him by now to understand that the source of the human spirit was to recover. To survive. I understood this despite the fact that Spike was an anomoly, a vampire who had achieved redemption newly returned to his human state. Yes, it had been over a decade now but I understood better than anyone how long and daunting the process to adaptation could be. Spike had adapted, he'd grown into his role, and he thrived despite the circumstances surrounding him. At first I thought perhaps it might be a quality that Spike possessed alone. But upon observing humans and observing Angel, I understood the human condition. They needed the fight.

Knowing this it was hard to determine what Angel's reason for being was. The vampires, though once sneered upon now possessed a certain strength. Angel possessed the most severe form of it and it seemed to eat holes in his head, like small canyons buried by oceans and waves of memory. Regret. Between his suffering and Connor's grief, Faith's intensity and Wesley's angst there hardly seemed room to breathe in this entire house.

There seemed a change in the air, but still I stayed by Spike's bedside waiting for him to awaken. Of course he'd been awake since the initial blow but there had been so much, so many people, emotions clinging to the wall like a rank dark stain. There'd hardly been a quiet moment within which I could enquire about his health. Not only his physical well-being but his emotional and mental. Spike had never been one to delve into such topics but occasionally in the years I'd spent by his side he would begin to let things slip out. Small parts of himself that he would share and in return I would do him that same courtesy. Despite the apparent differences we learned to relate to eachother quite well. Perhaps it was natural that I would gravitate back to him now that things remained in constant chaos.

The return of so many things lost. I couldn't begin to fathom what it was like, how it must feel to see old friends popping out of the woodwork everywhere they turned. I could only grasp the smallest part of it. The smallest part that saw Wesley standing in the kitchen, the recognition both within myself and the shell that some part of us had ached with his absence. To see him now, so well and alive only began to confuse things further. Maybe this was all just a grand plan, some scheme to cause deviation within the framework of our plan. Plan. It was hardly a word for what we had, only if discounting the simplest most poignant thesis. We needed to kill Kakistos.

There was no focus among us. Angel had fallen so far, buried beneath the weight of a thousand regrets. Connor was crushed by the death of his wife and child. The only focus he now knew was anger and pain. Faith seemed hardly ready to kill any creature as terrible as Kakistos. And Wesley? I could hardly begin to estimate how Wesley was feeling about anything. It seemed so strange that he had once been my guide, my tie to the entire human race. The first person who had ever really connected with me. He'd been gone for so long that I eventually began to pick up my study with Buffy and Spike and then simply Spike. Wes had taught me about human kind, but Spike had gripped me by the hand and pulled me out into the middle of it. So I could smell the stink of it on my skin. We both fumbled, stumbled and fell, learning as we went along together.

"Spike," My voice was even as I saw him begin to sit up in bed. "Are you feeling any better?"
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past the point of no return; i saw your face [Jan. 11th, 2006|01:28 am]
No Going Home
Running into Connor outside the house was far more akward than I could ever imagine. It wasn't me at the wheel when all those things with Connor happened but that thing I gave birth to used what I was, who I was and the memories I recovered are dicey at best. Still, seeing Connor tugs at parts of my heart that ache for the loss of his innocence and how much he had to go through long before I was possessed and how much I put him through. It not being me doesn't really make any of that guilt away. Oh god I'm becomming Angel with the brooding. Someone stop me.

I finally managed to convince him to come inside instead of going out for more blood to stain his hands, metaphorically speaking of course.

I needed to see Angel, after everything I'd been through 'up there' and everything I was feeling I just needed to see him. So I could remind myself why I gave up eternal rest. I wasn't really questioning the decision because hello no one could do the job better than Cordelia Chase but I felt that little voice inside that told me that seeing him would change everything.

When have I ever listened to that little voice? I've never been the one to overthink either which is why I'm having so much trouble. See, think, say and do is pretty much how Cordelia Chase operates. I feel like I might find my purpose again, while I don't regret giving my life to the powers to help Angel I do regret not being able to do more. What help did I do him in the long run, sure there was the vision about the black thorn but the powers would have gotten that to him somehow even if it hadn't been me. The kiss was just an added bonus.

Connor led the way inside because despite all my bravado at being back, I'm scared. First of all I don't want to be called some clone or shapeshifter or something else entirely random. I certainly hate having to explain myself more than just about anything. Also dealing with Skank the Vampire slayer really isn't my idea of fun.

Connor opened the door to the house and called out before turning back to me with an odd expression on his face. Maybe I wasn't the only one who was feeling a bit akward about this little reunion. Cordelia Chase does not get nervous, I'm above it; only not exactly because my heart is pounding in my chest so hard that I can actually hear it in my ears and that has nothing to do with my half demon-ness either. Seeing Angel again after all this time, even though time moves differently 'up there' is nerve wracking and I hate it because it is not a me thing. I don't get this way, sweaty palms and that deep rooted insecurity at the pit of my stomach. Just one more thing to thank Buffy for, stupid speechifying little slay-whore. Ok, see now that made me feel better, which should actually make me feel bad since I'm suppose to be over all that pettiness but I'm really not completely, especially after well yeah I'm just going to forget about it and move on. Because, I won the right to be here and Buffy is not going to ruin it for me.

I have no idea how long I stood there staring at Connor, both of us at a loss for what to do, even though the most pressing issue is me not having my head taken off by say Angel thinking I'm not me? That's a good place to start. After a minute or two I just sighed.

"So do you think you can go get him?" I asked Connor with a smile, he didn't look entirely happy with that suggestion but I didn't want to go searching the house for Angel and Connor could smell him, which ok now thinking about that is a bit too ew for my tastes so lets not go back there.

"Yeah," He responded finally and disappeared to some other part of the house. I looked a round for who knows how long before I heard two distinct voices coming my way. If I knew Connor well enough, he wouldn't have told Angel who was here because Angel wouldn't be likely to believe him. He's more of the see it to believe it type, most people are like that. Unless you count all the residents of Sunnydale who saw it and refused to believe it but really I'm only thinking about that to avoid the nerves.

Dammit. Cordelia Chase is stronger than this, she's strong and a fighter and looks really great in Versace.

When Angel and Connor entered the living room I felt the air leave my lungs for more reasons than I can even begin to describe. He looked horrible and great (because obviously seeing him in the flesh is much better than the view from upstairs) and part of me wanted to simultaneously hug him and smack the hell out of him for loosing himself so much that I had to come back in the first place, not that I didn't want to.

"You know, that brood face hasn't changed in 10 years. I at least expected a slight deviation."

[Open to Connor & Angel]
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And time moves on in our world [Jan. 11th, 2006|02:00 am]
No Going Home

[mood |soresore]
[music |World Outside- The Devlins]

There's so much goin' on around me I can barely even concentrate hard enough to try and pull free. He's laughing and she's screaming and I'm swearing, pushing and pulling as hard as I can- as hard as they let me. Except that's the only thing that's really pounding it's way into my numb brain. Numb. God, it hurt so bad. Had they given me something? I felt sluggish and slow like I wasn't even in control of my own body. Except that I was cause I was struggling so hard that I thought I might have popped a few joints out of their sockets.

When I hear the drill suddenly I snap to attention. I can see. Only one thing, only my watcher strapped to the table. There's a spotlight on her so the only thing I can see is her and occasionally the outline of the monster that had spent the last few minutes carving her up. She's still breathing. I can see the gentle rise and fall of her chest and I know that it's too late. Fuck! I can feel that it's too late, but it doesn't stop the burn.

"Let me go!" I try to yell, scream it but nothing comes out. I'm not even sure what's holding me anymore or if I'm just so fucking paralyzed that I can't move. The only thing I can see is her. See the glint of the drill as it approaches her ribcage, hear the scream. She dies, and I burn.

I'm on my knees when a thousand screams die in my throat and all I can hear is the laughter echoing off of the walls. It sounds so far away. Like it's coming from the end of a long watery tunnel.

I never stop burning.

I woke up with a start, sittin' straight up in bed and breathing heavy. Blinking a few times in the dark I glance over the darkened room as my heartrate finally slows back down to an almost normal pace. "Shit..." I muttered quietly, droppin' my head in my hands and feeling small beads of sweat cling to my forehead. Had I really screamed? No way. If I had I would've woken up the whole house and they all would've been clamboring on in here to see what I was screamin' about.

Slowly I looked around the room and remembered passing the fuck out not that long ago. I still hadn't talked to Wes but I was puttin' that off for as long as possible. Because he wouldn't do it. Shit. I knew he wouldn't just up and leave now. Always so fucking stubborn. See he thought it was cause I wanted to get rid of him or I didn't think he was good enough or something. Leave it to him to be all paranoid. Couldn't he see that I was tryin' to save his sorry hide? I didn't want him...I knew how Kakistos got when it came to tryin' to hurt me! The things he did, I knew he'd go after Wes next. I just felt it in my gut and Wes wasn't gonna leave and he'd probably die and it would just be...bad.

Yeah. Bad. Cause that's the best way to describe it, right? It really didn't even start to cover all this new...stuff that had come up. Hadn't I just had some big revelation? That I'd spent so much time with Wes and I wasn't the same chick I used to be. Things were different now and I was willing to just be there I guess. Stop hiding. Because he could see me even when I tried, but I just couldn't help doing it anyway. Guess some old habits died hard and speaking of the dead? Kakistos was just makin' this whole thing a lot harder. Because I had to remember who I used to be seventeen years ago. And when I was sixteen I wasn't big on the lettin' people in.

Nobody gets in ever because then you have to burn.

Looking down at my hand I clenched it tightly, painfully- watching it in the pale strips of moonlight streaming into the room. Least they weren't broken anymore. I tried to wrap my mind around the fact that I'd almost died again not that long ago. Just one little taste of reality before heading back to my shadowy bland hell.

Before I could stop myself I swung my legs over the side of the bed and started walking towards the door. Once I was on the other side I stood in the hallway for more than a minute listening to the quiet house. If anybody was up and home they were bein' wicked quiet about it. Guess it was just that kinda night. It was a little suffocating. Turning around I headed towards the door across the hallway and slowly began to turn the knob. Opening the door I let my eyes adjust to the light long enough to see that Wes was layin' in bed. Whether he was sleeping or not I had no idea. Probably not. It was just that kinda night. Slowly I crept towards his bed and before he could say anything climbed underneath the covers next to him.

I just had to know that he was alright.
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