Disclaimer: These characters all belong to Joss Whedon, and sadly I can't comfort Angel now when he's depressed and brooding. *sigh* that's the disappointment of being a fanfic writer.

Disclaimer 2: The song is by Three Doors Down: Here Without You. It's a great song and if you haven't heard it yet I recommend it entirely!

It's springtime again, it only occurs once a year and it doesn't end fast enough. Over two hundred years old and the only thing I fear is a change in the weather. How ironic, it used to be easy, sleep all day and wake up to darkness.

Now at Wolfram and Hart I sleep less and stay awake for the whole blasted day. Being the head coordinator or boss I fight the good fight and get the added bonus of tinted windows so the sun can come in but not turn us vampires into dried spots on the expensive carpet.

I love the sunlight, it's pure beauty in one shining ray, but not during Spring. That was Cordelia's favorite season, she used to say that everything got the chance to start over again. Fresh and new to make it through the breezy mild days of the next few months. She didn't even make it to see the flowers grow, every one of them as beautiful as she.

After the events of last year everyone realized that it had never really been her fault. I knew it, that couldn't have been Cordy. She was- she was a champion. No one would have befriended me and stuck through everything I put them through, she did. Not even Buffy can quite measure up to that.

It's nighttime now and I'm standing on the balcony of the pent-house that Wolfram and Hart gave me. It'll be dawn soon, I can feel the moisture in the air and slight weakness as the sun gets closer to the horizon.

It's warm, I hate that. No, I mean I hate that I can remember, with remembering comes pain. There's been debate on whether or not vampires feel pain or cold or hot. We do. Some of it's real but most of it's a mindset. Two hundred plus years of remembering, I can feel the suns warmth as I worked on the docks as a lad in Ireland, the chill of winter as I went outside to collect firewood, and the feel of grass when I lay in an emerald green field.

For awhile I'd forgotten what it was like to feel, Cordelia brought it back. She changed her sleeping schedule to be up with me, and during my 'brooding' as she called it, she would talk to me about sun, light, everything I forced myself to forget. I guess that's my point, she was the light in my life that anchored me to earth and kept me from being lost to darkness.

When she was in a coma I never gave up because there was the hope that she'd wake up. She did. At least for a little while but now she's ascended or whatever the Powers That Be call it. But in a way she's not really gone after all. I can feel her in everything that's important. The rainbow of light on a wall, that's her smiling approvingly finally fully understanding our mission.

A poet now, that's what I've turned into. A sword-wielding, champion poet. But she fought to say good-bye one last time and- oh how perfect. My alarm clock goes off and Three Doors Down: Here Without You. I know all of these songs because wherever we go Fred puts the radio on. I know all about the rock songs of the century and now the soft rock songs too.

Another night of not sleeping, the memories just flash by but I don't want them to go away. Not yet. ". . .but you're still with me in my dreams."

Strange the emotions felt by one small otherwise inconsequential phrase. A loud crash sounds and I hear the most annoying voice start the morning. Spike. How many years have I had to endure that blithering idiot? Darla insisted we keep him, cute Spike who NEVER SHUTS UP!

"Whoops. Sorry, boss." Spike snorts and laughs as I ignore another crash. "The ponce." That he says lower under his breath but he knows I can hear every word.

"Spike!" what has he destroyed now? A new day, fresh start. One more day against the multitude that have already passed. I'd better go down there before the bloody fool brings down the entire building.

". . . and tonight girl, it's only you and me." I press the elevator button and it immediately appears. One can never loose hope, I'll find her again one day. But I hope she was wrong. I hope she's happy because, 'we can't ever be happy can we, Angel.' But somehow I know she is. She's Cordy, with all her quirks and batches of inedible brownies she's still Cordelia Chase. Watch out Powers That Be, you got a lot more than you bargained for.

Take care of her for me.