Chapter 14
Author: Ellen
Rating: NC-17 (overall story)
Spoilers: none
Summary: Angel, Cordelia and Doyle begin to realize some of the further implications of their bond.
Disclaimer: The characters of Angel, Doyle and Cordelia are the property of 20th Century Fox, Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy and others. No ownership is claimed and no copyright infringement is intended.
Thoughts between Angel, Doyle and Cordelia are marked //like this.//
Thanks to Tammy for all your help with this story!
The version of 'Patrick's rune' in this chapter is by Madeleine L'Engle, from the book A Swiftly Tilting Planet.
"Bring Francis to the center of the circle," Dolores Doyle said and then added, "Please."
Angel and Cordelia were supporting Doyle between them. He had not spoken a word since his mother introduced him to his father.
At first, Cordelia had been sure that Doyle had passed out when he stumbled and fell backward but she could tell that he was still conscious by the pain that he could no longer block from her, still leaking from his mind. Even the effort needed to block seemed beyond him now. She would not have believed that he could possibly be any more withdrawn than he had been before but now he had pulled so far back into himself that he seemed almost catatonic and he sagged in their grip like a broken doll.
Cordelia stroked Doyle's hair away from his forehead and brushed her lips lightly against his face, continuing to send him all the loving reassurance that she could through their link. She wasn't sure what, if anything, was getting through to him at this point but she had to keep trying.
Angel nodded to Cordelia and they half-carried Doyle into the circle.
Dolores glanced over at Alon, who moved forward. Doyle's parents joined Angel and Cordelia around Doyle in the center of the circle. Both Dolores and Alon placed their hands gently on their son and although he flinched away from the touch, they persisted, maintaining the contact.
Dolores spoke in a clear, carrying voice. "I ask for forgiveness." She did not seem to expect any response from Doyle but turned instead toward Alon and the two of them then spoke in unison.
"We ask for healing."
Cordelia looked at Angel over Doyle's bent head. //Should we do what we did before, with that healing thing?//
//Not exactly but something like it,// Angel responded, guiding her with his thoughts.
//Like this?//
Balancing Doyle against her shoulder and allowing Angel to bear most of his weight, Cordelia reached out to Dolores with one hand, keeping the other hand resting lightly on Doyle's face. Angel nodded.
"We ask for healing," Cordelia repeated aloud.
Somewhere within herself, she knew, there was still a spark of anger at Dolores, for Doyle's sake but she had to get past that. It was more than just pushing it down inside her; she had to let it go. She wanted to protect him but she knew that being angry, even on his behalf, could only hurt him now.
In the circle around them, the others half-hidden in the darkness raised their candles and they began a soft, slow chant. Cordelia could not make out any of the words but the tone was musical and pleasant.
For a moment, she almost wished that Wesley were there to translate what she was hearing but then, looking at Doyle, she was glad that he wasn't. There were some things that Wesley should not see.
Angel sent, //It's a ritual of reconciliation, of moving toward wholeness. It's all right, don't worry about the words. Just think about healing.//
//Yes.//
Her fingers moved softly on Doyle's face, while she felt the warmth of Dolores' hand in her grasp. Whatever their differences, they could still be united in loving Doyle and wishing him healing.
As the chant built around them, the voices weaving a rising pattern, Cordelia's skin began to tingle. Angel helped her, showing her, without words, how to draw upon some of the energy that was being raised in the circle.
Cordelia realized that she could feel Dolores and Alon helping, too.
//They're linked to him too, in their own way,// Angel sent. //The circle is making it possible for them to help us. Let them.//
Cordelia acknowledged his thought and opened herself as much as she could to these new energies moving in to their link. It felt strange, invasive and yet at the same time, invigorating.
//It's like plugging in to a new power supply,// she thought to Angel.
//Take it. Use it.//
As the chanting voices rose around them, Cordelia glanced at Alon, barely able to make out the Brachen features in the darkness. He gazed back at her and she could feel his presence, feel Dolores, as though they were part of her bond with Doyle.
//Draw from them,// Angel urged. //Draw on their love for him. Let it make you stronger.// Angel's consciousness seemed to wrap around hers, guiding her.
//Yes.// Cordelia felt her body growing warmer, as the energy being raised around her found its focus within her and through her, moved into Doyle.
//Imagine yourself as a magnifying glass,// Angel sent. //Pick up the energy, focus it, channel it to him.//
The tingling heat was passing through her like a wave and she gave all of it that she could to Doyle, as the voices continued the chant. She could feel the power of it and as she did, she began to sense the others' emotions, almost at the point of words but not quite.
She could feel Dolores and Alon sending their love tinged with regret and especially from Dolores, the bitter sadness of guilt. The sharpness of that regret was painful to Cordelia herself and how much more might it be hurting Doyle? She tried to cleanse the sadness and the shame out of that energy, as it flowed through her and to leave only the love.
Looking for more focus, she tried to remember the words that Doyle and Angel had used on the plane. Suddenly she could hear Dolores and it took her a moment to realize that she was actually hearing spoken words and not just a voice in her mind.
Holding Cordelia's hand tightly, Dolores was whispering to her son.
"With you in this fateful hour
We place all heaven with its power,
And the sun with its brightness,
And the snow with its whiteness,
And the lightning with its rapid wrath
And the winds with their swiftness along their path
And the sea with its deepness
And the rocks with their steepness
And the earth with its starkness,
All these I place,
By God's almighty help and grace,
Between you and the powers of darkness."
The words helped to give Cordelia the focus that she needed. Abruptly, she found herself able to pick up the threads of the energy whirling around her, to help the others to weave the pattern around Doyle, in a way that she could sense without actually seeing it, warming the cold and brightening the darkness that held him.
With Angel steadying her, supporting her, she poured everything that she could into the healing energy. She was holding nothing back now, trusting Angel to keep her from losing herself completely, to keep her from disappearing into the chant and the energy and the light that she could sense with everything except her eyes.
Angel's reassuring presence held her, as she filled Doyle with all the heat and all the light that she could draw in, until she felt that she was going to burst, that she could contain nothing more and still it flowed.
"In this fateful hour..." she gasped and Dolores helped her, repeating the words. Alon moved closer, helping Angel to steady them. Cordelia was sure that she could almost see Doyle beginning to glow and yet he remained slumped against Angel, not showing any reaction at all.
She knew that she couldn't maintain this much longer and the sound of the chant around her was slowing also, falling to a deeper tone. She wasn't sure quite how she knew but she knew that they were bringing the chant to a close, getting ready to ground the energies again.
It was almost more than her body or her soul could stand and yet, somehow, it didn't seem enough. How could a man be loved so much and yet remain so lost?
The power was diminishing, already starting to ebb out of her and it was still not enough.
"All these I place – "
Dolores spoke the words with her as she struggled to remember them. "By God's almighty help and grace, between you and the powers of darkness."
With a wordless sound of assent, Cordelia gave Doyle the last that she could of the energy that she held and then she stumbled, about to fall. It was Alon who moved to catch her, since Angel still held Doyle.
Leaning against Alon, Cordelia felt the connection still there between them but it was fading, as the ritual drew to a close. While she could still feel it, she turned her head, to see his face fully for the first time.
Alon smiled gently down at her, as he held her upright and despite the Brachen spines, Cordelia knew that Dolores was right. Doyle's father was not ugly, not at all.
"Thank you..." she breathed and he nodded slightly.
The chanting voices softly sank down into silence again, leaving Doyle and the four of them still around him in the center of the circle. When Cordelia was able to gather her thoughts enough to look around, she realized that the others had moved away.
The candle flames were retreating into the dimness.
She blinked up at Alon in confusion and then searched in her mind for Angel. //Did they all leave?//
//Yes. They seemed to understand,// Angel responded.
//To understand?//
//Whatever it is that they expect him to do, they know that he's not ready yet.//
The last of the candles were gone. It was just Doyle, Angel, Cordelia, Dolores and Alon, left together in the darkness.
Angel met Cordelia's eyes and she moved out of Alon's steadying grasp to ease Doyle from Angel's arms.
Doyle seemed better able to stand by himself now, needing only Cordelia's arm around him but he still did not speak, either aloud or through the link. He stared down at the ground, accepting Cordelia's arm bracing him but not responding to her touch.
Angel spoke quietly. "Dolores. What now?"
"I won't be going home yet," she answered, keeping her own voice low, as well. "I'm going to spend some more time with Alon. I want to get to know him. After that, well, I'm not sure." She reached out and took the Brachen demon's hand in her own for a moment and the tenderness in her gesture was unmistakeable.
"May we tell the family that you're all right?" Angel asked.
Dolores nodded as she released Alon's hand. "Yes but no details. They wouldn't understand."
"Let me know what's happening with you," Angel urged. "You can always get word to me or to Cordelia."
"I know," Dolores replied, staring sadly at Doyle, who still refused to meet her eyes.
For the first time since before the ritual began, Doyle sent a thought to Angel and Cordelia. //Let's get out of here.//
"We're going to leave now," Angel told Dolores. "How can we reach you?"
"You can't, since I don't know where I'm going to be but I will call you."
"All right. Take care of yourself and thank you."
Dolores' voice was so low that Cordelia could barely hear it. "Thank you both, for loving him so much."
"We do. Always," Cordelia whispered fiercely, tightening her arm around Doyle's shoulder.
//Aren't you going to speak to her at all?// she sent to him but he did not reply.
Dolores cast one last, lingering look at her son, then reached out for Alon. He took her arm, to guide her in the darkness.
Slowly, Doyle's parents walked away.
//Come on,// Angel sent at last, coming around to take Doyle's arm. //We need to find a place where we can get some sleep.//
//Is that it? We're just leaving it like that?// Cordelia thought indignantly.
//For now, we've done all we can,// Angel sent back, deliberately allowing Doyle to hear the thought. //Anything more will be his decision, not ours.//
Doyle straightened a little. //I think I can walk by myself now.//
//Suit yourself,// Angel thought. //We'll be right here.//
//I know.//
They walked back to the car.
