The first thing she noticed was that her nose itched.

Then she realized that she was in total darkness.

Wherever she was, it was pitch-black and silent, but not cold. No, it was surprisingly comfortable. Warm. She almost felt safe.

She faded away again, deeper into the quiet and the dark.

She slept.

***

Angel had already decided that this was the last time he was bringing Wesley on The Visit.

That was, if he ever made The Visit again.

Angel sighed, and re-adjusted the pack he wore slung over his shoulder. He was considering never making The Visit again. So much had changed since she had been put into that magically-induced coma; it had been so long since it had happened that he had in truth lost all hope that she would ever wake. No, he had made his decision: this would be the last time.

"Angel, how much further until we hit the chamber?" Wesley asked, glancing at the hand-drawn map Angel had made all that time ago. "I think I've lost our position on the map."

"It shouldn't be too much further," he told the younger man. The chamber was the cave in which she slept, protected by spells and wards and runes, and the occasional friendly demon who owed Angel a favor. Generally, the magical barriers were enough to protect her, but sometimes, when Angel knew there was a possibility that he might not be able to make the journey as often as he usually did, or things on the outside were more dangerous than usual, he'd call in a favor and get someone to watch over her.

"Ah, yes!" Wesley suddenly exclaimed, bringing Angel out of his thoughts. "There it is!"

Sure enough, there it was: the mouth of a cave, glowing with silver-gold energy, pulsating like a heart beat. Just inside Angel could see the bed she slept on, the demon who was watching over her this round, and...

...*her*.

She still slept. He doubted she had even moved in all the time he had been gone.

With Wesley's help, he made it down the rocky path and together they chanted the spell that would let them enter the cave without being instantaneously turned into dust. Angel paused, uncertain that the spell would still work. So much had changed...

The energy changed colors, first pink, and then a little blue-purple, and Angel knew it had worked, just as it always had. To leave the chamber required no spell, no invitation, but to enter was a whole different story.

"Angel, come on!" Wesley said, nudging him with the crossbow he carried in case of...trouble en route. "It'll only be open a few more seconds."

"Right," Angel replied, "of course." And he stepped through.

It was impossible to describe fully what it felt like to go through that magical barrier. It was warm and cold at the same time, and for some reason it always felt like...like he was coming home. Angel shook his head, loosening such strange thoughts from his mind.

"Angel, my friend!" called the tall demon who had been waiting for them.

"Hello," Angel replied, a little nervously. So much had changed...

But the demon didn't notice, or didn't care. "Well," he told Angel, "there hasn't been any action since I came down here, either from her or the outside - at least, that I've noticed. I've kept myself entertained, though." He gestured to the computer in one corner of the chamber. With the aid of magic, its net connection was faster than any cable modem on the market could provide and was protected with conjured firewalls and anti-virus spellware. "Not quite the same as my old twenty-minute commute," Skip told them, "but I did get caught up on all of my 'Star Trek' fanfiction mailing lists."

Angel laughed, remembering the first time he had met Skip. "Thanks for watching her for me," he told the demon, who simply shrugged. "Not a problem, buddy," Skip replied. "If you ever need me again, just let me know."

"You're sure she hasn't moved? Blinked? Anything?" Angel asked.

Skip sighed. "Day before last, I...the computer sensor thingies didn't pick up on anything, but I could have sworn..."

"What?" Wesley asked.

"I almost thought I saw her blink. It could have been just my imagination. Even with all the TNG/X-Files crossovers ever written, a fellow can get a little bored down here. It's easy to start imagining things," Skip told them.

"What time was it?" Angel asked hesitantly.

Skip frowned. "Let me think a moment. Around noon, I think it was. Had to have been, 'cause not long after that I had lunch and the microwave's clock read ten after. So it had to have been awful close to right on noon, day before last."

Angel and Wesley exchanged a nervous glance.

"You don't really think it happened, do you?" the tall demon asked them. "Did something happen on the outside then?"

There was a moment in which none of the men spoke, but then Wesley gave Skip a hesitant smile and said, "No, no. It's fine. You can go on home now. We'll...we'll let you know if we need your services again."

Skip shrugged. "All right. See you guys later." And with that Skip was gone.

"Angel," Wesley started a moment later, "you don't really think..."

Angel sighed. "Don't you remember? It was at exactly two minutes after twelve that it...happened. You don't suppose it might be a coincidence? You know how the Powers tend to be strange that way."

The younger man sighed and dropped his gear onto the ground. "I don't know. And there's only one way to find out if she really is waking or not."

"How?"

Wesley turned his gaze onto the sleeping woman. "Watch her. Just watch her."

***

This time, she thought she heard voices in the dark. Time had passed. She could feel it this time, and there was something else different, like it was in the air that she was breathing.

She thought that she recognized the voices, but they seemed distant, almost hidden from her. She tried to figure out what they were saying, but the words seemed jumbled, chaotic. Then two words became clear: "Watch her."

Watch who? Did they mean her?

Who were they?

The darkness claimed her again.

***

They made their beds out of sleeping bags and foam cushions that they had brought on another Visit. Dinner was heated in the microwave, but only Wesley ate anything.

"I'm not hungry," Angel assured him. "Really. I'm not."

Wesley frowned, but said nothing.

When night came, known to them only by the marking of time by their watches, Wesley slept. Angel tried to reassure the younger man by actually getting into his sleeping bag, resting his head on a pillow, but he did not sleep. The entire night was spent watching the bed for any sign of movement.

There was none.

***

Sunrise.

The third time she awoke, that word seemed to vibrate all through her mind. Sunrise. It was somehow important, but she wasn't sure how. Sunrise.

And now there was light in the world. It was still fuzzy, and she really couldn't see anything, but at least there was light now. It didn't feel natural, though. Maybe she was in a hospital. Yes, that seemed logical. A hospital.

And there were the voices again.

***

"Angel?"

Silence.

"Er, Angel? Are you all right?" Wesley called from across the room.

"Wha-oh, fine, Wes, fine," Angel replied. He stood from the chair beside the bed and walked over to the table where Wesley sat.

"Coffee?"

"Yeah. Thanks." He sat down and cupped the hot mug in his hands. "Wes-"

"No, Angel. I have something I must say. She may never wake up. You do realize this, don't you? I understand how important she is to you, but-"

Angel stood quickly, his face clouded in anger. "No, Wes, you don't. You weren't there. She's...she's all I really have left."

"But she may already be gone, Angel. You might be holding on to a shell, a ghost."

***

A ghost? No, she was alive.

Wasn't she?

Sure, it had been dark, and then it had been light, but there wasn't a tunnel or some big voice saying, "Come home, child," or anything weird like that...

So she was still alive. All she had to do was wake up all the way, say something or open her eyes real wide, more than they already were, and the voices would see her and they wouldn't talk about her maybe being dead anymore.

There. It was settled. She would let them know that she was alive. Now all she had to do was speak or something and they would know. It was just that easy.

Okay. Speaking. Speaking would definitely be of the good. Do I remember how? Okay, tongue, lips, throat, brain. All engaged. It has to work.

***

"-talking about her like she's already dead! Look at her, Wes! She's still breathing, her heart's still pumping. She's alive. Just look at her!"

"But, Angel, it's been so long. She hasn't moved in so long. Is she really alive, or is this just part of the spell that's kept her...breathing all this time. It might just be the magic. Don't you see that? Her-her brain, her mind, her soul may be long since dead."

"No!" With an angry sweeping movement, Angel shoved everything on the table onto the floor and then stomped back over to the bed. "She's alive. I know she is." He began to cry, holding her hand in his. "Wes, she has to be alive, she has to be, she has to be..."

Soundlessly, Wesley stepped towards him and laid his hand on Angel's shoulder. "Angel..."

"She's the only one left. If she doesn't wake up..."

***

"If she doesn't wake up..."

But I am awake! she thought with annoyance. And I'm trying to talk and get my eyes open so that you can see it, but it's kinda hard, y'know?

Okay. Gonna try again. First, open your mouth. Check. Second, breathe in. Check. Now talk.

"Ay..."

***

"...I don't know what I'll do-"

"Ay..." It was barely even a whisper, but there it was. Her voice.

"Wes? Did you hear that?"

"Ay....Aynn." Again, faint, but real.

"Dear God, she's trying to speak."

***

Why couldn't she say his name? She was trying *so* hard.

"Aynn...Aynnnch..."

***

"Aynnnch...uuull..."

His name. She was trying to say his name. Miracle of miracles! She was alive, and she was trying to say his name! Surely this a sign from the Powers! To think, twelve-oh-two the day before last! And now at sunrise! She's waking with the dawn!

"I'm here....it's all right...I'm here...just open your eyes..."

***

"...open your eyes..."

Surely that would be easier than talking! Okay. Open the eye lids.

Good! Excellent. Now focus. That *is* him, isn't it? Yes, it is. Focus. Focus. Focus.

Wonderful!

***

"Ayn...chel? Angel?"

"Wes! She's really awake! You're really awake..."

"Angel?"

He brushed his hand against her cheek. "It's all right, Cordy. It's all right."

"You're...alive?"

He laughed. "So are you," he told her, "so are you."

Hesitantly, she tried reaching out a hand to him, only to realize that he was already holding it. She squeezed it and felt the warmth of his touch.

"Angel, you're alive," she whispered. "Really alive."

"Welcome back, sleeping beauty," he whispered back. "We're both alive."

[END]