| Title: Queen of the Night Author: Starlett Chapter 1 He sat quietly in the dark hospital room, watching Cordy sleep. The sound of her breath whispered around him, both comforting and terrifying. "Sir? Are you still here?" The nurse stood in the doorway, silhouetted in the light from the hall. "Yeah," Angel replied. "I need to check her again," she said. Angel nodded. "Fine." The nurse entered the room, snapping on the bedside lamp. Cordy lay in a blue hospital gown, the covers drawn to her shoulders. An IV dripped into the back of her hand, supplying nutrients, liquid and a mild sedative. Luckily, mild was all she needed right now. Though that could change at any time. "Ma'am," the nurse said kindly, "can you hear me?" There was no response. She turned to Angel. "She's been the same?" she asked. He was sitting in a chair right next to the bed, one leg crossed over the other, his fingers steepled against his lips. He shook his head. "No change." "And you say she's had this kind of experience before?" Angel nodded. "Yes. About a year-and-a-half ago." "The doctors couldn't find any reason for it then, either?" she asked. "No. No reason, but also no damage. Though today's doctor said he could see a lot of neural activity. Like she has a firestorm in her brain." He thought that was, perhaps, the most accurate definition of a vision he'd heard. He wondered if Cordy would agree. The nurse nodded. "That's what it seems. Well, we've done all we can. Now we just have to wait and see." "Yeah," Angel said, watching as the woman turned off the light and left the room. He got up and stood beside the bed. "Cordy," he whispered. "I know you're in there." He sat down next to her, drawing her hand into his lap. "I promise we're going to figure this out." Her fingers were long and tapered, the nails short but well-tended. Practical and feminine, he thought. Just like her. He reached up with his other hand and ran his shaking fingers through her dark, silky hair. "I can't lose you again, Cordelia. I need you." He cupped her hand in his and pulled it to his lips. "I need you," he repeated, kissing her fingers gently. "Angel?" Her voice was soft and slightly slurred. "Cordy?" He looked up to find her awake, blinking blearily. "Hi," he said, his voice breaking. She twined her fingers with his and looked around the room. "Where am I?" "Hospital. Visions." A line appeared between her eyebrows. "Oh, yeah." She put her hand up, as if to lay it on her forehead, and winced. "IV?" She looked at her arm. "How long have I been here?" Her voice was rusty; reminding him of the visions just weeks before that had brought boils and burns to her fragile body. "About six hours." She nodded, her gaze going soft again. "Cordy!" he said. "No!" She blinked. "What?" He slumped, overcome by hours of worry. "Last time you came to, but then went right back under. I thought...." "Oh," she said, nodding. "No, just tired. Where's Connor?" "He's at the hotel. They sent everyone home but me." She smiled. "Bet they tried to send you home, too." He still held her hand, and he pressed it to his chest. "They tried. I won." She chuckled, and then coughed. "Thirsty," she said. He grabbed the glass of water off the tray. "Here, sit up." He slid an arm around her shoulders and guided her up, pressing the cup to her lips. She drank, then pulled back to catch her breath. "Thanks. Better." He returned the cup to the tray. "I need to call the nurse," he said. "Let them know you're awake." Cordy grabbed his hand. "No. Wait." Her eyes were dark and too large in her pale face. "What?" "I don't know how long I have." Fear trailed its icy fingers down his spine. "Cordy," he began. "No. Angel," she said, her gaze intense. "Listen to me. We both know I'm dying." He clenched his teeth. "No, you're not," he gritted. "Angel. Stop." She linked her fingers with his. "You're my best friend. I need you to stay honest." She watched him, unflinching. He thought of a warrior, facing her death fearlessly in battle. "These visions, they're gone for now. But we all know they're coming back." He nodded. If she could face it, so could he. "I don't want to die, Angel. I'm not even 22 years old. I want to be with you guys. I want to watch Connor grow up and...." Her eyes watered and she looked down at their entwined fingers. He reached up with his free hand and tilted her chin so she met him again, face-to-face. "We're not letting you go without a fight." She smiled wistfully. "That's what we do best, isn't it?" If she could face it, so could he. But they would fight it together. "Yeah. And I promise, Cordy, with everything I have. You'll be around to fight for a long, long time." She leaned her head against his chest. "Just don't leave me, Angel." His arms went around her shoulders. "Never." Title: Queen of the Night Author: Starlett Chapter 2 "Would you please stop fussing? Jeez, I'm fine. How many times do I have to say it?" Wes set the half-eaten bowl of chicken noodle soup on the bedside table and patted Cordy's thigh. "Scoot over. Let me look at your head." She scowled, but scooted. "I *said* I'm fine," she huffed. "I want to see for myself." Wes turned her so he could examine the bump she got when she hit the floor. Cordy flinched slightly when his fingers brushed the sore spot. When she spoke, though, her voice was laced with exasperation and humor. "I'm not pulling a Scully. If I say I'm fine, I mean it." Wes rolled his eyes. "That actually looks pretty good. Not nearly as swollen." He grinned at her when she turned to face him. "And if ever there were a Scully at Angel Investigations, it would be you." "Nuh uh. Fred would be Scully 'cause she's the scientist. Angel, make him leave me alone," Cordy whined as Angel walked into the room. Wes stood and turned to face the other man. "Head's looking better and she's complaining a lot more." Angel smiled. "That's a good sign. No one complains like our Cordy." Cordelia crossed her arms over her chest. "Do not," she pouted. "He won't leave me alone." "Cordy, eat your soup," Angel remarked mildly. "Wes, come with me." "Hey! Where are you going?" Wes reached back and handed the bowl of soup to Cordelia. "I just need his help with something," Angel said. "No big deal." The walked down the hall into the living room. "Test results came back from the hospital today. They couldn't find anything." "It was worth a shot," Wes said, shoving his hands into his pockets. "What now?" Angel began to prowl, dodging the coffee table that was littered with research books and crossword puzzles. "I don't know," he said frustratedly. "Anything. Everything." He stopped in front of the mantel and looked at the pictures that Cordy had arranged so artfully. One of them was of the Scooby Gang. A candid shot in the library, most likely taken by one of the high school yearbook photographers. Off to the side sat Cordy, not quite in the group, but not quite out, either. So different from now, when she was the center of their universe. He put his hands in his pockets, unconsciously mirroring Wes's stance. "So what's the plan?" "Angel! I'm done with the soup!" Cordy called from the bedroom. "Be right there," he called, pinning Wes with his gaze. "We had some luck with Lorne before. Maybe he can help us again." "And if he can't?" "Research." "Research. We've never done that for her." His eyes were dark with guilt. "Why have we never done that for her?" Wes sighed. "I don't know, actually. We should have been doing it all along." "Yeah. And now it might be too late." Wes sighed. "You're right. We need help." He looked out the window, thinking. "Giles," he finally said. "He's light years ahead of me in knowledge and experience. If he doesn't have what we need, he'll know where to find it." "Do it," Angel said. "I'll talk to Lorne." "I'll call Giles now." He glanced at his watch. "He should be closing the shop." "Angel!" Cordy called from the bedroom. A smile whispered over Angel's face. "Gotta go play nursemaid." Wes smiled, though it didn't erase the worry from his eyes. "I'm glad she's feeling better." "Yeah. Me too." He disappeared down the hall, leaving Wes standing in the living room, staring blankly at the wall. |