gorysortofstory | Open Post the Sequel

"I don't know if I want to."

Because there were things she was better off not knowing. Things they were all better off not knowing. He didn't want to ruin Wes and Gunn's friendship, didn't want Fred picturing herself blue, or Cordelia imaging a world where she was dead and he was lost. Didn't want them to know that he sold his soul to Wolfram & Hart, that he made a deal with them to save his son, to—

Wait.

"Connor. Where's Connor?"

"In his crib." She says it in that sort of duh tone of voice. Like where else would he be? "He just went down for a nap finally, so don't wake him up."

Of course, she has no idea that Angel doesn't expect Connor to still be a baby here. How could she?

He darts past her, the need to see his son momentarily surpassing his desire to bask in the presence of the woman he loves, alive and untainted. Angel's in such a rush to get upstairs and see his child that he stumbles on the stairs, tripping over the carpeting and just barely catching himself on the banister. In this state, it would've been an awkward, nasty fall. Vampire dexterity had been good for something, and while there's a part of him that wishes he'd been able to keep some of the perks of being a demon, the perks of being a human out way it. Especially now that he isn't living in a hellish world where being a vampire would've made his life a hell of a lot easier.

Pun not intended.

Should she follow, she'll find him leaning over the crib, a gentle, loving hand on the baby's head. There are tears in his eyes and he's on the verge of weeping, because this — this is what he wanted for the boy. This was the life he deserved, with a human parent who could go out into the sun with him. He'd have to take the necessary steps to prevent a Quor'toth repeat, but now that he'd experienced those events and knew exactly how they were going to pan out, he could stop Holtz before he even began.

But that would come later. Right now, he just wanted to bask.

Of course she follows.

There's still a lot she doesn't understand about the situation. Angel is human, somehow. He doesn't have to fight his inner demon anymore, he can just live the sort of life he deserves. A real one with his son.

If it's a trap, a cruel joke someone is playing on him, well they'll figure it out. They always do. When she walks in and follows him, any worry is momentarily pushed aside at the image of the two of them. It's hard to miss the tears in his eyes -- but she doesn't comment on them. Instead Cordelia comes inside the room and settles next to Angel, placing one of her hands on his shoulder.

"See? Sleeping just like I said."

"You don't know what kind of life he would've been forced to lead had things happened differently."

Angel's voice is barely above a whisper, but he knows she can hear him. He doesn't dare disturb his son, wanting to give the sleeping infant every single luxury he was denied after Holtz stole him away to Quor'toh. Connor would be raised as he ought to have, would grow up in this world instead of a barren hell dimension that warped his mind and taught him to fight for his life at every twist and turn. And if this was a cruel joke, he was going to personally rip the Senior Partners limb from limb for dangling this in front of him and refusing to let him have it. Every inch of his being ached to believe this was real, but true to his nature, there was always that thread of doubt and suspicion lingering in the back of his mind.

It kept him on his toes.

Connor mewls in his sleep, turning his head instinctively towards his father's hand, pressing his little forehead against Angel's fingers. The vampire smiles. "I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere."

"Happened differently? Did you get the Powers That Be to turn back time again?"

She knows he did that once -- and he had been human then too. The perfect day he supposedly spent with Buffy. But whatever's happened -- he's being pretty vague about it, which is really, really annoying. Cordelia doesn't really like feeling like she's in the dark about things.

Still, it's hard not to smile as she watches Angel and his son -- he's so good with Connor -- if there some reality where things ended badly for them -- well then she's glad he found a way to reverse it.

Because they all deserve at least a little happiness sin their lives.

"No, Wolfram & Hart."

It's the truth, even if it's one she won't want to hear. He isn't particularly jonesing to tell her about it, either.

Connor fusses and Angel withdraws his hand, slipping out of the baby's room as quietly as possible without the added advantage of a vampire's inherent stealth. Wanting to stay near, he lingers in the adjoining room — his room. A room he took residence back up in after the downfall of the Demon Lords, before other events were put into motion. It ended where it all began, and he'd come full circle because of it.

"Wolfram and Hart?" Cordelia raises a brow as she follows him into his bedroom -- not at all satisfied with that answer. One of her hands rests on her hip as she glances over to him.

"Are you going to start actually explaining to me or are we going to continue with the vaguey business?"

"Yeah, Wolfram & Hart." Which he knows could imply any number of things, least of all what actually happened. "I tricked them into a reset, I just didn't think it was going to go back this far. A year, maybe, but not... a couple years."

He wasn't complaining, though. This was better than he'd aimed for, more than he could ever ask for. He liked to think the Powers were giving a little help here, letting him have his chance at a do-over now that he'd seen firsthand how bad things were capable of getting. Maybe he was meant to live through all of that so he could do it all over the right way the second time around. He could say, other than to say that he was alive and so was everyone else.

And it was going to stay that way if he had anything to do about it.

"A couple of years?" Her eyebrows shoot up a little at that. It's hard to digest in a way -- that she lost two years but little does she know it's for the best that she did. Those two years weren't kind to her. Still, it's far from the strangest thing she's ever heard of.

"So are there things you're going to warn us about? Or is this one of those punishment deals where you can't say anything or you'll mess with the needed course of history because if that's the case that's just kind of cruel."

But she wouldn't put it past Wolfram and Hart.

Edited 2014-03-08 12:58 (UTC)

"Holtz is going to be coming from my son. If things play out the way they did my first time around, he'll succeed in the attempt. He'll take Connor to a hell dimension known as Quor'toth, where he'll spend the next seventeen years of his life. Holtz will raise him to be a killer, teach him that I'm nothing more than a soulless demon who needs to be put down. It will warp his entire outlook on the world and me by the time he gets back. Which only a few weeks to us, given that time tends to pass differently in hell dimensions than on our own plane."

Like the century he did in Acathla's hell dimension that was only a couple of months to the real world.

"I plan to put a stop to that, to take Holtz down before he has a chance to get to Connor." Or Wesley.

"Just tell us what we need to do to help you, Angel. None of us are going to let that happen."

After all, they all loved Connor -- not as much as Angel did -- but still. Cordelia had come to be very attached to that little baby, and if there's anything she can do to help him from a terrible fate, to help prevent him having anything less than the life he deserves? Well she's going to do it.

They're a family. That's what family does for one another. They fight.

Another thing Angel's suddenly keen on preventing: the Groosalugg from sweeping in and stealing his thunder. That night at the ballet had forced him to wake up and get with the program, only to be two seconds to late to a reveal that would've changed everything. The first of a series of missed opportunities between them. He'd stop Jasmine from pushing her into a position where she'd be able to take control of her body and seize that opportunity before anyone else had the chance to do it.

Happiness was no longer an issue. Seeing everything in his life even out and be the way it ought to be won't trigger the clause in a curse that's no longer applicable now that he's human and becoming Angelus no longer a risk.

"I lost a lot of people during those years, Cordy. Not just Connor. Would you believe that at the end of it all, before I figured out how to make things right, that the only ones of us left standing were me and Spike?"

Connor was dead, Wesley was a ghost, Illyria was lost, and Gunn was a vampire. In the end, the two heroes left were two men with the rockiest history of all. And before time reset, after he let Gunn behead him, Spike stood alone.

He hated that and was immensely glad the bleached blonde would have zero recollection of it.

Edited 2014-03-11 01:38 (UTC)

Cordelia has no idea Groo is ever going to come back -- or about the ballet at all, not yet. It's been a few days since her birthday and mostly she's trying to adjust to the whole part demon thing now but on the plus side? She's no longer dying. She takes that as a personal victory. She gets to live and keep the visions. Win win.

Her expression sobers at his words. Last time she had seen Spike was when he was going after the Gem of Amara. Which is why there's that slightly judgy tone coming out when she speaks again.

"Why the hell would you be working with Spike?"

He's one of the bad guys -- far as she knows, anyway.

No longer dying is a step up. It's a big step up. And as long as he has something to say about it, she will never be at risk of dying again. An entire redirected department within Wolfram & Hart comprised of the best doctors and wizards from across the globe and various dimensions couldn't wake her up. He wasn't about to put her, or himself, through that again. He'd barely come out of it okay and probably wouldn't have been able to thunder through the pain of that loss as well as he had been, if not for that vision she'd provided him with. Without it...

Angel shakes those thoughts off, pushing away the remnants of a future that would likely never happen in that way again.

"He—" Shit. Right, spoilers. Spoilers that likely didn't even apply to spike yet. He's on the fence, honestly, when it comes to wanting Spike to become soulful again. But of course, now that he's human, Spike's no longer a rival for the shanshu. He's the sole contender. Funny how that works out. "Well, he sort of, uh... got his soul back. Long story, not really my story to tell. Just— He was on my side in the end and that's what matters here."

"Spike gets a soul? Who'd he piss off to make that happen?" Because the assumption, of course, is that it's like Angel's case where a gypsy cursed him with a soul. Little does she know that Spike actually went and earned his back instead.

"Well, whatever led to that extremely weird turn of events -- we can make it different, can't we?"

She doesn't like the idea of Angel being alone in the end -- nor does she have the courage to ask what happened to her and the others. She has a feeling she probably wouldn't like the answer.

He wasn't alone in the end. In the end, with everyone else lost in some way, shape, or form, it was just him and Spike. And he met his death by a lost friend's hand while Spike watched on in what he's going to assume was horror. Horror outrage. He was probably shouting at him for being stupid. Yeah, it was definitely outrage.

Damn, how did I know the fang boys would pull through?

Angel shakes the memories off, refocuses on her.

"It's a long story, and it's not my story to tell. Might not even happen in this universe, and if dealing with an evil Spike is the price I have to pay for getting you back, so be it."

"Well duh. I'm better than ten Spikes."

Souls or not. Okay, maybe she's a little bias in a lot of different sorts of ways but she's still pretty sure that statement holds true. And if he knows what's coming? Well then she's pretty sure this sucky future is never going to happen anyway.

"Anything I need to know or is this one of those you can't tell me too many details or the fabric of time might unravel sort of ordeals?"

"Yes," he agrees with a fond smile, "you are."

Though he and Spike had somewhat come to an understanding, he would pick Cordelia over his grandchilde any day and was certain Spike would do the same in his shoes. He knew for a fact that he would.

"If you ever see Skip again, don't take anything he has to offer you. Anything. You run, you get out of there and come find me and I'll deal with him."

There's a raised eyebrow at that -- mostly because she had liked Skip, for the most part. He even had kept up pretty good with pop culture references. She could respect that, you know?

"I didn't realize I was going to see him again -- it had seemed like a sorta one time deal, honestly."

"It should've been, and as long as I have something to say about it, it'll stay that way."

They would've met on the beach that night had it not been for Skip and that thing's interference. ...Connor's, too, but Angel was going to do everything in his power to ensure that the infant sleeping in the next room wasn't going to suffer the same fate as the tormented young man who died in his arms after being struck down by a vamped out Gunn.

"Well, if I do, I promise to get out of there."

She had liked Skip, yes -- but she also knows Angel wouldn't give her that sort of warning flippantly either. She trusts him, he's always done his best to try to keep those around him safe. Maybe he can't tell her why she needs to run but she'll trust that she's better off not knowing.

Without warning, Angel stepped up to her and reached out a hand to tuck a stray strand of hair back behind her ear.

"Good."

Her breath catches a little when he's suddenly stepping in closing to her, brushing her hair aside.

"I trust you, Angel. You wouldn't tell me something like that without good reason."

Angel’s hand lingers. He palms her neck, thumb brushing against the curve of her jaw while his fingers thread themselves into the hair at her nape. He’s watching her intently, studying her as if he needs to rememorize her features even though he’s gone over them every single night since her lost her to the coma that stole her away into eternity in the wake of that thing’s madness.

“I trust you,” he tells her in turn. “I hope you never forget that, because I do. Even when it might seem like I don’t.”

It wasn’t Cordelia that he had distrusted. It was that otherworldly being that had crawled up inside her and used her up.

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