Chapter 6
Author: Ellen
Rating: NC-17 (overall)
Spoilers: Somnambulist
Summary: In order for the three to survive a new challenge, Doyle must learn to accept his inner demon.
Disclaimer: Angel, Doyle, Cordelia and all other characters from the Angel television series belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy and/or 20th Century Fox and other entities who aren't us. We only wish that we owned them and could keep them safe and happy and loved.
Thoughts between Angel, Doyle and Cordelia are marked //like this.//
It happened even sooner than they had feared.
Wesley had just left the office to escort Harry home and Cordelia was resting on the couch next to Doyle in a state of exhaustion, eyes closed, when a sudden wave of nausea and weakness swept over Doyle. He gasped and Cordelia's eyes flew open.
//No, not yet, we're not ready yet!//
Cordelia put her hands on Doyle's shoulders, sharing the empty, sinking feeling as she looked into his frightened eyes. //Maybe it's not the spell. Maybe it's just something you ate,// she speculated hopefully. //Angel, don't you think it might be that?//
There was no response. She turned to look at Angel and saw that his face had gone blank.
//Angel?//
//It's not... something he ate, Cordelia.// Angel's thoughts were slow and labored. //I'm feeling it too, not just from Doyle. And I don't know how to stop it.//
Although he was trying to block it, she could taste the intensity of his fear. She turned to Doyle and although he, too, was trying to block out his thoughts, the expression on his face was more than she could bear.
//No!// She jumped to her feet. //I won't allow it!//
//We may... no longer have a choice, Cordelia....//
Moving as though underwater, Angel shuffled toward Doyle, who lurched desperately to his feet, reaching out to touch him.
//If you go...// Angel promised him. //I follow.//
//Not the way I wanted it to end...// Doyle sent, as his hands connected with Angel's. //But...//
//You two are giving up! Stop it right now, stop giving up! Fight!//
Then they all heard it – a noise from the front room. Casting a quick, panicked glance back at the strained faces of her lovers, Cordelia rushed forward. "Wesley?" she called out, running forward heedlessly, desperately.
She heard a soft laugh, as something connected with her feet and sent her sprawling to the floor. Her body hit the side of the desk as she fell heavily.
"No such luck, I'm afraid. You should tell that fool to lock the door behind him. Of course, you won't have the chance. Too bad," said Penn. "Not that it would have stopped me, of course, only taken away that lovely element of surprise."
For a moment, Cordelia could only gape at him, stunned.
"Oh, don't worry. I'm not going to kill you. I'll leave that to Angelus," Penn said pleasantly. "He'll be joining us shortly. You see, it's almost complete. I only had to be here myself for this very last part. And, of course, I wouldn't want to miss the fun."
Then, as Cordelia struggled in vain to get to her feet, Penn went on, in a conversational tone: "The undead shall return to the undead. The dead shall return to the dead. All things shall be as they once were, all things shall be as they were meant to be."
His voice sounded so natural and the plain English words were so simple, that she didn't realize he was finishing the spell... until, inside her mind, both Angel and Doyle screamed.
As their pain shot through her and she cried out, Penn smiled.
She lay on the floor, gasping for breath, as Penn continued to speak. She could no longer make out the words. She could barely see him for the images crowding through her head but it wasn't a vision. She could feel Angel falling to his knees, feel an agony worse than he had known in hell, as he fought to keep his soul from being taken.
And if there could be worse, there was. She could feel Doyle's terror as the spell began to unravel, thread by thread, the link which bound him to Cordelia and Angel, knowing that when that link was gone, his life went with it.
So nearby, yet so far away, she could feel Doyle falling to the floor in the next room, not even strong enough to stand. She could feel him fighting desperately to hold on, for just a few more seconds, to the life energy that was being slowly, inexorably, sucked away from him by the soft-spoken words.
//Remember...// he sent weakly. //Remember what I told ya, Princess. No regrets...// and then the pain and the fear overwhelmed his fading thoughts.
"No. Oh, no, no. No!"
"Yes," Penn corrected, still in that chillingly gentle tone of voice and kept going.
The waves of agony from both her lovers seemed unbearable but still she fought to get to her feet. For the first time, Cordelia realized that enduring the visions had made her stronger. She had learned far too much about pain to let it defeat her now.
As though in a dream, she remembered the one thing that had saved her once before, when she had been about to give up her life: her anger. It would save her again.
//I'm sorry, my dearest loves,// she sent to Angel and Doyle, preparing to block them out. Through his pain, Angel sent her one final, broken thought and they both knew it might be the last touch that she would ever know of the mind and soul she loved.
//Take... our powers... won't help us now... fight... you can do it...//
She felt Angel's resolve to let himself die, rather than continue to exist without his soul.
Through the pain, she understood what he was offering and why.
//Forgive me,// she responded. //I love you both. Forever.// And with all the strength she had, she drew all of the demon and the vampire fully into herself.
She was one and she was three and her body sang with the power.
She rose to her feet with liquid grace.
"Waiting for Angelus? Don't bother. He's right here."
In the next room, sprawled on the floor, Angel felt himself change... but it was not the change that he had feared.
Penn's eyes widened in disbelief as he saw Cordelia's face shift, morphing into a form that was somewhere between vampire and demon but he did not stop talking. Cordelia knew there wasn't time to find a stake. There wasn't time for much of anything. Doyle was dying and she was not going to let that happen again.
The only thing within reach was the letter-opener on the corner of the desk and it was only metal, not wood. She would only have time for one blow and with nothing more than a letter-opener. But she had seen vampires die in many ways and this one would be no different.
She grabbed the letter-opener. With all the power of a vampire and a demon behind her blow, she took the small, thin blade in hand and spun like a dancer.
Penn saw the letter-opener and laughed. It was such a pathetic little thing that he didn't even try to duck. He just kept speaking the words of the spell and as he did, she could feel Doyle's life ebbing away.
"What was that your family used to say, Penn? Oh, yes. The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. Blessed be the name of the Lord."
She pirouetted and, striking straight and true, with the power of her two lovers fueled by her own anger, she swung the blade into Penn's neck.
The vampire looked stunned as the tiny blade cut through his spine.
"Impossible – " he started to say and then his head separated from his body and he began to crumble into dust.
The last thing he saw was the crooked smirk of his sire, on the face of Cordelia.
"Possible," Cordelia corrected. "You never did have much imagination, did you, Penn?"
With a sudden shift that she didn't fully understand, her thoughts were her own again and she frantically reached out her mind. //Doyle! Angel!//
For a long, terrifying moment there was no response at all and then, weakly, Angel touched her mind. //Still... here,// he sent feebly, his mental voice thin and exhausted. //I'll be... all right... Doyle?//
//Doyle? Doyle???// Cordelia's thoughts echoed.
Nothing. Blindly, terrified, she pushed energy toward the cold, black void where Doyle should be. //Doyle!!//
Stumbling, she ran toward the place where Doyle had fallen. His body lay in a crumpled heap on the floor and when she skidded to a stop and fell to her knees beside him, she groaned in anguish. No response came from his mind. He was white and silent, eyes shut and when she touched him, she could feel no pulse, no heartbeat.
"No. No," she wailed aloud. Ignoring Angel, she put both hands on Doyle's body and poured every bit of energy that she could into the unresponding flesh. //Come back to me, damn you to hell, come back to me, I love you, Allan Francis Doyle, come back to me, I love you, come back...//
She gathered up his limp form in her arms and pressed it against her. Inside her, something was roaring with incoherent rage but she had no attention to give to anything but Doyle. Cradling Doyle's body, she struggled to pour the stolen life back into him.
She pushed as hard as she could, with her hands on his chest, not knowing what to do but sending every bit of energy that she could move into Doyle's body. She could feel the tears streaming down her demon face, around the spikes and she heard her own voice keening, knowing that even this ugliness, even this Brachen face was dear to her now, because of him.
She couldn't lose him again. She wouldn't lose him again.
Her lips drew back, exposing fangs, as she rocked the still body. He was hers! She had brought him back from Death once before. Not even Death had any right to take away what belonged to her.
In answer, something inside her snarled its approval and she felt it shift again. She didn't understand what it was and she didn't care.
Doyle was all that mattered.
//Open your eyes, Doyle. Move. I love you, damn it, don't you dare die on me again. Doyle, move. Open your eyes. Come back to me,// she begged.
It felt as though a cold wind moved from her body into his but at first, it seemed that nothing had happened. He was still lying there under her hands, not breathing.
And then, finally, he moved.
//Oh, thank God. Doyle. Doyle.// She rocked his chilled body against her own, rubbing his arms and legs as he began to stir. //Oh, Doyle.//
As the tears continued to run down her face, she gradually became aware that she was still in demon form but it didn't seem to matter... until Doyle moaned softly and opened his eyes.
//What...?//
His thought was faint, confused. He stared blankly at her demon face and shook his head slightly, not understanding.
//I almost lost you. We almost lost you.// Cordelia held him tight, her hands still moving over his body and it was only then that she noticed something else.
Under her touch, his skin still felt cool, like Angel's. She put her fingers on his wrist and gasped. She couldn't feel a pulse.
//Doyle? Doyle, you're scaring me, please, I need to feel you, I need to know that you're alive, please, Doyle.//
His eyes were open and he was moving but...
//Cordelia?// Doyle sent, staring at her. He looked dazed and still abnormally pale.
//I can't feel my heart beat.// His thoughts seemed distant, oddly detached. //Am I dead?//
From the floor nearby, still crumpled in a heap, Angel sent them a weak thought.
//Doyle? Cordelia?//
//We're here,// Cordelia sent. //But something's wrong with Doyle.//
//I may know what it is,// came the faint thought. //I can't get up yet, Cordelia. You'll have to come over to me.//
Unwilling to let Doyle out of her grasp, Cordelia picked him up and carried him over to where Angel lay. As she did, she noticed how light Doyle seemed to be, how easy it was to carry him and realized that she still had not lost the demon form.
//Why am I still a demon? Angel, why can't I feel Doyle's heartbeat?//
With Doyle still cradled in her arms, she sat down carefully on the floor next to Angel, who tried to reach out toward them both but was still unable to do much more than lift a hand. At the same time, Doyle stirred in her grasp and moaned, reaching for Angel.
Cordelia eased Doyle gently down on the floor, close beside Angel. As she did, Doyle strained to put his arms around Angel but as soon as his hand touched Angel's skin, he pulled back with a start, as though he had been burned.
//What is it?// Cordelia sent. //Angel, what did I do wrong?//
Angel just stared at her, with a stunned expression, as she gently touched his face.
It was warm.
