caty_did | Conversations About Dead People, Ch.16

This was, by far, the hardest chapter to write. If you read anything else by me, you know that I’m not one to shy away from angst. However, angst is very different than grief, and grief has always gotten to me. So this may not be the best chapter, but believe me when I tell you, I tried my hardest. Takes place after the Angel episode, There’s No Place Like Plrtz Glrb, and after The Gift.

Angel refresher: Angel Investigations travels to an alternate dimension to rescue Cordelia, who was sucked through a portal. While there, they rescue Fred and discover that because of her visions, Cordelia has been made princess. They eventually are able to leave and the entire group including Fred and Cordelia, still in her royal clothes, arrives back at the Hyperion. When they walk in the door they find Willow, who has come to tell them that Buffy’s dead.

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Los Angeles, 2001

Cordelia, outfitted once more in normal clothes, cautiously approached Angel’s office. She was expecting to find him either sitting in stony silence or possibly breaking things. Either way she didn’t want to make any sudden movements.

Instead she found Willow, sitting alone in the room, staring into a cup of coffee.

“Hi.”

Willow looked up, startled. “Cordy! Hi.” She tried for a smile, but it came out as more of a grimace.

Cordelia glanced around the empty room. “Um, where’s-“

“Oh! Angel left a couple a minutes ago. Said he needed to go pummel something.” Cordelia tried her hardest to keep from looking too alarmed, but Willow must have spotted it anyway. “Don’t worry. Wesley went with him. He told me to tell you that he’d keep him from doing anything too reckless.”

Cordelia relaxed and slipped into the seat to Willow. “So, how are you?”

Willow looked up, and the pain written on her face broke Cordelia’s heart. “I’m sorry. That was a stupid question.”

Willow shrugged. “Nah, it’s okay. I’m, I’m alright, I guess. It doesn’t really feel…real. Y’know?”

For a split second the image of Doyle flashed in front of her eyes. She blinked and he was replaced by a thousand memories of Willow and Buffy. Sitting together, talking, laughing, crying, planning. Three years she’d witnessed and two she hadn’t. Losing Doyle had been one of the worst things that ever happened to her. But what Willow was going through right now? It had to be worse.

She reached over, grabbed Willow’s hand, and gave it a tight squeeze. Willow smiled at her gratefully.

“There’s just so much to do right now. So much to figure out. There almost isn’t enough time to think about B- her. I mean, there’s the funeral stuff, but there are so many other things too. What are we going to do with Dawn? And what about the demons? If they find out that Sunnydale isn’t protected by a slayer anymore…”

“You’ll figure it out.” Cordelia smiled. “You’ve always been the smartest out of all of us.”

Willow let out a shaky laugh and looked down at her lap, blinking furiously. Cordelia felt a tear land on the back the hand that was still covering Willow’s.

“Do you need a place to stay tonight? There are plenty of rooms here, or if you want something a little less old and spacious, you can stay with me. I have a ghost but he’s friendly. Kind of like Casper. His name is Dennis and his mother used to haunt the place, but she was pretty evil, and after we avenged Dennis his spirit sort of took over- and wow, rambling, really not helpful is it?”

Willow pulled her hand free and wiped her eyes while replying. “Don’t worry about it. We’ve all been doing our fair share of the ramble these days.” She pushed her chair back and rose to her feet. “And thanks for the offer, but I really need to get back. I didn’t mean to be gone this long.”

Cordelia stood too and opened her mouth to reply, but Willow cut her off. “Don’t apologize for not being here. I think ‘stuck in a hell dimension,’ is one of the few foolproof excuses.”

She chuckled. “True.” But then her smile faded and she said earnestly, “I am so, so sorry Will. About not being here, and about, um, about Buffy.

“I know I was pretty much a bitch to everyone, and I never really said anything, but I want you to know that I did care about all of you. I still do.”

Willow nodded. “I know.”

Cordelia offered a sad smile. “Give Dawn a hug for me?”

“I will. Listen, I told Angel, but I’ll go ahead and tell you too. The f-“ she swallowed hard. “Funeral is eleven thirty, Thursday night.”

“I’ll be there.”

Willow gave an odd sort of jerk that seemed to indicate that she understood, and turned to walk out the door.

Cordelia followed her. “Willow, wait!”

Willow stopped at the door and turned back. In lieu of explanation, Cordelia pulled her into a hug. Willow stiffened briefly before relaxing into it, and Cordelia was seized with the realization that Willow had probably spent most of her time lately as the hugger, not the hugged. So she waited for Willow to pull away before she let go.

“Thanks. I’ll see you Thursday, Cordy.”

“Don’t mention it. Angel probably didn’t say anything, but I know it means lot to him that you’re having the ceremony after dark.”

Willow opened her mouth, then snapped it shut again. Cordelia watched, confused, as panic started to show on Willows face and she started to mumble, “Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no! How could I forget to- and I don’t know where he went, and-“ abruptly she cut herself off and looked up into Cordelia’s face. “Can you do me kind of a weird favor?”

Cordelia hoped that she looked more confident than she felt as she replied, “sure, what is it?”

“Can you tell Angel something for me?”

“Of course.”

Willows eyes darted between Cordelia and the chairs behind them. “Maybe we should sit back down.”

Cordelia returned to her chair. “Okay.” She drew the word out. “Willow you’re starting to really freak me out.”

Willow sank down, gnawing on her lip. “Here’s the thing. You know that Spike can’t hurt people anymore, and he’s kind of been working with us right?”

Cordelia nodded slowly. “Yeah. Oh my god. Was he there? Was it his fault? Does Angel need to kill him?”

“Yes, he was there; no, it wasn’t his fault; and he doesn’t need to kill him, but he might want to.”

“Why? What did he do Willow?”

Willow gazed at her sadly. “He was in love with Buffy.”

Cordelia was suddenly very glad that they were sitting down. “For how long?”

Willow shrugged. “Not sure. A while I guess. We found out about a month ago.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. It’s not really that big a deal.” Cordelia raised her eyebrows; Willow ignored her. “But he’s going to be there Thursday. And it’s pretty obvious that he felt more for her than just, reluctant alliance. It wouldn’t be fair to Angel to not tell him.”

Cordelia tried desperately to get a hold of her racing thoughts. Angel. Right. He needed to know that he wasn’t the only vampire to love the Slayer. Okay. She could do this.

“I’ll tell him. But he’s going to want to know. Did she love him back?”

“No! No, of course not! I don’t think she hated him anymore, but she definitely didn’t love him.”

“And you’re sure, absolutely sure, that he loved her?”

Willow thought about Spike chaining Buffy up in his crypt, and the Buffybot, and all the other awful things he’d done over the past few years.

The she thought about the way he looked after they found him at Glory’s, and the sight of him holding a sword with his bare hands, and the way he’d sobbed at the base of that tower.

And the fact that when she left that morning, he’d still been on the sofa. Determined to keep a promise he’d made to a dead girl that didn’t love him.

“I’m sure.”