Title: Grieving Parents
Spoilers: The Price
Summary: Angel and Cordelia grieve for Connor.
Disclaimer: If you recognize them, they belong to Joss Whedon and David Greenwalt. Otherwise, they're mine.
Author's Note: In my version, Groo never left Pylea.
Cordelia walked down the stairs of the Hyperion and saw Angel standing in the middle of the lobby. He was staring at the lobby floor and appeared to be lost in thought.
"Hey, when did we get the statue for the lobby?" Cordelia asked.
Angel looked up at her.
"Oh, it's just you," she told him.
"Can we do something about this stain? It just scared off a client. At least, I think it was a client. Guy barely said two words before he ran out of here," Angel told her.
Cordelia sighed. "Well, you know, some people can be pretty close-mouthed," she told him pointedly.
She paused for a moment. "We've never really talked about everything that happened while I was away."
"You know the gist of it," Angel told her, turning towards his office.
Cordelia sighed. "Sure. The gist. I got loads of gist. But what I don't got is the specifics. Specifically about that little five-pointed doodad decorating our lobby and the voodoo that you dooed--did--over it," she said, following him.
"I know you don't want to talk about it, but you don't mess with dark magics and expect to walk away like it doesn't matter," she told him.
"It doesn't matter. It was a waste of time," he said.
"Still, I should probably know what kind of spell it was. You know there's almost always some cosmic price to using primordial powers. There could be repurcussions. And you know the one person who might be able to help with that isn't around anymore," she said.
Angel just looked at her, a 'don't go there' look on his face.
"Not going there. Just saying." She sighed. "You can run away, avoid talking about this, but you know as well as I do stuff we do in the past usually comes back to bite us in our respective assi and what you did--"
"Okay. So maybe I wasn't thinking too clearly. I mean, I was drunk for awhile there--drunk on my own son's blood. Slipped into my food by the good folks at Wolfram & Hart. And my head was a little clouded by rage over a trusted friend stealing my child from me. Dammit Cordelia, you got me talking about this," he sighed, sitting down on the stairs.
"Probably just needed to vent," she told him.
Angel put his head in his hands, covering his eyes. Cordelia sat down beside him.
"Why didn't you call me?" she asked him softly.
"I didn't want to mess up your vacation. I just thought one of us should be happy," he sighed.
"But I could have helped. I could have done--something."
He shook his head. "There was nothing that you could've," he told her.
"How do you know that? What makes you so sure? I've got a hotline to the frickin' Powers, buster. I could've gotten a vision or--or something to warn us," she told him, standing up. "Oh, plus, I've got demon in me now. So maybe, maybe there is some untapped power that could've helped find Connor before, you know. Before--" she sighed, tears glistening in her eyes.
"Cordy," he said standing up. "Come with me," he told her, taking her hand and leading her to the sofa in the corner.
She sat down beside him, but didn't look up. She sat looking at the floor.
"Cordy," he said, lifting her face to meet his. "Talk to me," he said softly, looking into her eyes.
She sighed as a tear slipped silently down her face. "I miss him," she told him. "I know I wasn't his mother, but--it hurts so much."
"You may not have given birth to him, but never underestimate yourself. You were his mother, Cordy," he told her softly.
These words are more than she can bear and her silent tears turned into heartwrenching sobs.
"Hey," he said softly. "Come here," he told her as he pulled her into his arms and held her while she cried.
After a while, he slipped their shoes off and lay down with her on the sofa.
Unbeknownst to either of them, Fred, Gunn and Lorne had quietly snuck downstairs to see what was going on. What they saw took their breath away. Angel held Cordy in what could only be described as a lover's embrace. As tears slipped quietly down both their faces, there was only one description for it--grieving parents.
If the situation hadn't been so tragic, the scene would have been beautiful. Words of love were not spoken on this day. That would have to wait for another day. Right now, their hearts did all the talking, wrapping their broken hearts in love as they lay there in each other's embrace.