Forgiveness
by Sairs

Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me they belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy and Fox.
Author’s notes: This is my first Angel fic.  I’ve written other stories in the Buffyverse but this is my first attempt at Angel fic.
Summary:  Angel wonders if he will ever be forgiven.
Friendship with C/A overtones.
Dedication: To Louise, who has the courage to read what I write!

~*~*~*~*~*~

She walks into the room a small smile on her lips.

Could it be a smile for me?  My undead heart lifts for a moment, filled briefly with hope, with need.  

The hope dwindles as she refuses to meet my eyes, her gaze studying the pile of papers on her desk, aware that I’m watching her, refusing to acknowledge me.

She hates me.

My mind clouds as I berate myself for the pain I’ve caused, for the friends I almost lost.  Lost because of my need for revenge, a need to destroy everything I’d worked so hard to achieve.

They were my family; my home and I’d pushed them away.  Hurt them.  I was blinkered and obsessed with retribution.  Revenge surged through me, allowing my soul to surrender to the temptation the darker side of my soul had to offer, the bitterness creeping through my veins, poisoning my heart, my soul, my life and theirs.

How could I ever show them how deeply sorry I am?  

Why, suddenly does it matter to me about friendships, about family?

Images of my past float into my mind, the loneliness of the sewers, a wave of guilt crashes over me like a tsunami crushing a sea wall.  Guilt for the crimes I committed against the innocent.  I know it was the demon inside, but somehow; even then there was a part of me that detested every mouthful of human blood I ingested.

But it was addictive.  The thrill of the kill and the look of pain and shock in my victims’ eyes as they realised their fate, as my true nature revealed itself.  They often tried to escape from my grasp, but they crumbled as my teeth penetrated the skin on their necks, freeing the red liquid that sated my hunger and satisfied the demon, I exuberantly drained their life force, watching as they died in my arms.

When nothing but a crumbled corpse of skin and bones was left I discarded them, leaving them for the carrion to finish.  I walked away, proud of my nature, the power and exhilaration pushing my demon to demand more.  My guilt remained hidden in a very small part of my soul, contained, festering, ignored by my demon until that night.

The night they restored my soul.

The pain I felt as a hundred years of guilt fell onto my shoulders nearly crushed me.  It virtually killed me, even if killing something that is already dead is virtually impossible.

I was suddenly alone.  Not belonging anywhere.  Not able to walk with my brethren, or able to interact with the innocents that I had once readily consumed without question.  For the first time in my life I was truly ostracised, I was truly alone.

I had almost lost the will to survive, hoping that I’d starve to death, end my abhorrence of a life.  In a way I relished the loneliness, embracing it as the perfect way to atone for the pain and suffering I’d inflicted on others.

I survived on rats and other rodents that inhabited the darkness of the sewers, shying away from humanity and my brethren until he found me and gave me a chance, a chance to live.

The minute I saw her I realised I had something to exist for.

But she was not my destiny.  I understand that now.  She was only a key, a key to unlock my humanity, to release my need to survive, my need to destroy those that once were my family.  

She taught me how fragile life can be.  How death can result in a wave of grief and pain that I didn’t understand until I experienced the generosity of her heart and her friends.

I don’t think I shall be able to look at Giles without feeling the guilt that I carry around for Angelus’ betrayal.

Was it betrayal?

I don’t thinks so.  Angelus was not a part of their world and he didn’t owe them anything.  He wanted to act upon his carnal need, his desire to cause pain and he did with a relish that sent fear into their very hearts.  

However, that does not diminish my guilt.  In my nightmares I relieve the last moments of Jenny’s life.  The fear glinting in her warm brown eyes as she recognised that her life was to end in his hands.

I couldn’t stop him, even though I wanted to.  I was there locked inside where he now resides.  He’s a part of me that I can’t lose; a part that I wish wasn’t there.  But he reminds me what could happen if I ever allow him to reassert his control.

That’s something I can never, ever let him do again.

“Angel?”

She snaps me from my thoughts, her brown eyes glinting with curiosity.

I want to smile, but know that’s not what she needs, what I need.

“Delia?” I ask, my voice quiet attempting to hide the thoughts that have been cascading through my brain.

“Brooding much?” She asked, her voice tinged with sarcasm.

I want to defend myself but I know I can’t.

Her smile disappears, her hands reaching for her forehead, her face contorting with pain a cry eliciting from her lips as the powerful vision attacks her brain, her senses rushing into overload.

I rush towards her, enveloping her crumbling body into my embrace.  I hold her as her body contorts with the pain that her vision sends through her nervous system.

I feel so helpless, so alone.  The one thing I desperately want to do, I can’t.  I want to take away her pain, but that is beyond my capabilities, left to those who know my destiny, our destiny.  The powers that define the destiny of the world and who sanction who lives and who dies and who gets to suffer for an eternity.

All I can do is hold her.  I hope that’s enough.

I run my hand through her hair, gently rubbing small circles on her forehead, attempting to ease her pain.

My soul crumbles, aching with every whimper of pain that escapes from her.

I begin to mumble words that I hope will comfort her.  I know she can’t hear them, but that doesn’t matter.  I need to do something for her, rather than watching her suffer.  I realise just how much this situation is out of my control.

She relaxes in my arms, the vision dissipating.  Relief cascades through me, knowing that she’s survived the ravages her visions inflict on her body and her mind.

“Cordy?” I ask, my voice quiet and filled with concern.

Her eyes open, for a moment she scans the room, as if trying to restore her memories disorientated by her vision’s onslaught.  

“Angel?”

“I’m here.” I reply, hoping that those words convey the emotions that are at this moment pounding in my chest.

She shifts gently in my arms, her eyes finally meeting mine.

Is that a glint of happiness I see there? Could she really be happy that I’m here?

She recognises the question in my eyes, a small smile crossing her lips as she replies, “thank you.”

Those two words help restore my faith, my faith that maybe I have a chance to rebuild the friendship with the people that I care for.  People that I thought at first were nothing more than acquaintances, but they’ve showed their unflinching loyalty to me and what did I do? I crushed it with my obsession.  But they have something unique in their hearts, something that I’ve searched my whole life and my whole death to find.  

Forgiveness.

They have forgiven me, not just once, but twice.  I vow that they will never have to forgive me a third time, because I understand now.

I understand my destiny.

It is to be with them, to be their friend, to support them.  Wesley and Gunn and my friends, but the woman I hold in my arms, she is more than my friend.  She is my seer, my link to my destiny and the link to my heart.

She’s chipped away slowly at the stone case surrounding my heart, slowly breathing a life into it that no one has managed to achieve, not even Buffy.  Cordelia is the key to my life, the key to my heart.

It hits me like a bolt of lightning crushing a tree to the ground, burning the bark and exposing the deepest core of its existence.  She is the keeper of my soul, without her my life would be empty.  I know now that she is my future; I don’t want to spend it with anyone else.  Her smile can light my heart; her sharp comments bring me back to reality.

She is the true reason I returned and experienced my epiphany.  I realised that what Darla offered me was my past, not my future.  I nearly spent a century hiding from life, I nearly returned to that dark place of self-pity and self-destruction.  But she saved me and I promise that every day that I walk this earth I will show her just how much she means to me.  

We might never experience the happy endings of storybooks, but to spend every day of my future with her will be more than I deserve, but somehow if this is atonement, then no longer is it the punishment it once was because she is the light at the end of the tunnel.  My guide to a future that will see us leaving a world of darkness and embracing a world of light, a world where innocence isn’t threatened a world where humanity can exist without demonic threat.  A world where happily ever afters just might exist.

“Angel?”

“Yes, Cordy.”

“Can I get up now?”

I smile, realising that my introspection has distracted me from her; she’s still in my arms.

“You should do that more often.” She replied as she carefully untangled herself from my arms.

I look at her questioningly, no need to utter a question.

“Smile,” she replied her brown eyes shining with something that resembles the friendship that I once knew.

I smile again, giving her the one present that at this moment in time seems to make her happy.

I know I’ve got a long way to go before I can rebuild our friendship, but I’m happy knowing that I’ve started the journey again.  

The journey to forgiveness.

The End