Chapter 6
Author: Kuzbah
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.//
It was late and Angel alone was awake while his lovers slept curled together beside him. He generally needed less sleep than they did, anyway, but Cordelia's earlier comment about needing to talk was nagging him. He slipped out of the bed and padded around to stand beside her. He had to do this carefully and not wake Doyle.
He began tickling the girl's ear very lightly with his fingertip. She raised her hand to bat at her ear as though shooing an insect and Angel continued until she at last became annoyed enough to turn her head, sleepy but awake.
//You said we needed to talk,// he sent.
She glanced guiltily back at Doyle, then disentangled herself. She threw on a robe and led Angel upstairs to the office. Orange streetlight shone through the blinds.
//I was looking through the demon database,// she sent sheepishly. //Trying to find out what I could about Brachen demons and I found this.// She logged on and showed him the articles she had read yesterday.
//I wanted to call Harry and ask about it,// she sent. //This could be a pretty big deal.//
//Could be,// Angel mused cautiously. //But maybe not. I mean, the details are pretty sketchy and the whole tone of the thing is pretty dubious. We've discussed this before. You know Doyle doesn't believe it.//
//What do you think?// Cordelia asked seriously.
Angel considered a moment. //If it's true and that's a big 'if,' I'd like to think Doyle's destiny was fulfilled. He sacrificed himself and now he can go on, fate-free.//
//Maybe,// Cordelia conceded. //But I'd still like to call Harry.//
//Okay,// Angel agreed. //Do you want to show this to him in the morning?//
//No!// Cordelia was horrified. //If it turns out to be nothing, he'd never forgive me.//
Angel bit his lip, concerned. //I don't want to do that, not to him...//
//Twenty-four hours,// Cordelia insisted. //I have an all-day cattle call tomorrow. I'll call Harry before I go. Then we can tell Doyle what she said when I get back.//
Angel hesitated another moment. //Alright. One day.//
Cordelia nodded. //Let's get back downstairs,// she sent. //Before he gets awake.// And furtively they descended again to the apartment.
Angel noticed that Doyle was shivering very slightly, alone as he was, and the vampire felt a pang of conscience as he and Cordelia slipped back into bed to embrace him again.
Angel didn't really get back to sleep for the rest of the night; the possible implications of what Cordelia was planning to do were greatly occupying his mind. When the clock ticked over to 6:59 am, one minute before the alarm was set to go off, he reached out to switch it off, then shook Cordelia awake. "Your audition," he told her aloud.
She and Doyle both came awake and Angel felt his heart fill with love for them both and they snuggled against him and each other, needing just a few more minutes before facing what the day would bring them.
//Do you have to go?// Doyle sent. Cordelia frequently shut them out on auditions, claiming their presence was a distraction when she was trying to assume a role and though they both understood, Doyle always took it a bit hard, especially if the try-out went badly.
//I do,// she sent back but she stretched her body against his and nuzzled her face into his neck.
Doyle kissed her on the forehead, then her eyelid. //Well, good luck, then. Or break a leg, or whatever.//
//Thanks,// she replied, then rose to get ready.
Doyle watched her with one eye, smiling warmly as she ran around, dressing and making herself up. Angel watched too, his chin on Doyle's shoulder and his arms around the Irishman's waist. Soon she was ready and she grabbed her bag and ran. Now comes my part, Angel thought.
He put his hands on Doyle's waist, turning the smaller man over, towards him and kissing him tenderly. //You okay,// Doyle sent. //You look like you didn't get much sleep.//
//I didn't,// Angel confessed. //Restless night. I'll catch up today.//
Doyle smiled wickedly and began to passionately kiss Angel's throat and shoulders. //I could help you with that.//
Angel pushed down the guilt that was starting to rise in him. He hated what he thought of as taking advantage of Doyle's predictable affection just to satisfy Cordelia's curiosity and for a moment he almost didn't. //Why don't you block us out,// he suggested as casually as he could. //See if I can be as interesting and mysterious as Miss Chase.//
"Interesting," Doyle said aloud as he closed off his mind. "Mysterious. This has possibilities."
Angel didn't answer right away but instead began to gently kiss Doyle's stomach, working his way slowly, agonizingly down. "What am I thinking now?" he asked.
Doyle was alone in the office, more or less. Cordelia's connection had been coming and going, depending on whether she was actually doing something acting-related, or only waiting around. At the moment she was reading over the script, trying to "get in character," so she had narrowed the bond to its smallest margin. Angel was downstairs, dozing at last, so Doyle was catching up on some office correspondence. It could probably wait but it gave him something to do.
He was rooting through some files in the bottom drawer when the phone rang. Not feeling the least remorse, he let the machine pick it up. A familiar voice started speaking.
"Hey, Cordelia. It's Harry. Sorry I was out when you called this morning. I don't really have any more information..." Doyle was reaching for the phone now but the next words stopped him cold. "...and I haven't been able to reach Dolores, his mother. But it's late afternoon, getting on towards evening there and she's probably out. I have a few people I can call about the Sacred Marriage and I'll let you know what I find out. Maybe we can meet for coffee, or something. Give me a call when you get in. Bye!"
Doyle was frozen in shock, anger and astonishment beginning to roll through him. Even asleep, Angel sensed it and came awake.
//What is it,// he managed to send in the moment before he read it all in Doyle's mind.
The half-demon sensed Angel's guilt and turned his anger to his lover. //How could you,// he sent fiercely. //What is it with you and Cordelia? Why do you play these games with me?//
//It's not a game,// Angel sent as he started to ascend to the office. //We were going to tell you tonight. I didn't think it mattered.//
//You can't lie to me,// Doyle sent back. //You know how I feel about this.//
//Wait,// Angel sent. //I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Let's talk this out.//
But Doyle had already fled, out of the building, into the daylight. //Leave me alone,// he snapped, then softened it very slightly by adding, //I need to think. I'll come back when I'm ready.//
Angel was brought up short by the sunshine streaming through the building's front windows. //Doyle!// he sent frantically but there was no reply.
Doyle regretted leaving almost as soon as he got outside. He knew Angel hadn't meant to hurt him, that he was just trying to keep Cordelia happy. And he couldn't really be mad at Cordelia, either; it was completely typical and part of what he loved about her.
But damn her! His mother, for Christ's sake!
The memory of his last conversation with her still burned bright. His bitter accusations, her denial and defense of a lifetime of lies. It was the first time he'd ever heard the term "Sacred Marriage." He hadn't understood it then and he only barely understood it now.
He tried to imagine a young Dolores Doyle, still a teenager, seduced into a demon-worshipping cult. He could only imagine her being groomed, prepared and finally laid on a sacrificial altar to serve as the vessel for a demon's seed. He could only imagine her fear when she realized she actually carried a half-demon child in her womb, then her flight back into the arms of her family with the seemingly normal infant. Himself.
"Sacred Marriage." What a colossal load of crap that was.
Dolores had only ever wanted her son to be normal. But she'd screwed that up herself, hadn't she.
Doyle couldn't think about it. It only ever brought pain. Angel seemed to understand that but Cordelia was like a dog with a bone. Why couldn't she accept he was what he was.
Because you can't accept it, he heard himself think.
He turned into the liquor store three blocks from Angel's office.
When Cordelia re-opened her link after the audition, Angel's fear and frustration crashed into her like a wave.
//What happened?// she sent, her heart sinking.
//What do you think?// was the cold reply.
Doyle walked for miles, wandering and drinking. He kept himself isolated, though it was killing him, but he couldn't face any of it right now. The alcohol helped, dulled his memories and finally numbed them, as it always did.
He'd started drinking the night his demon side had presented, used the whiskey to escape. Then, when the visions started, it dulled the pain, both physical and emotional. For a while he'd thought he wouldn't need it anymore, that Angel and Cordelia's love would be more than enough protection for him. But it was easier than they were. It didn't make demands.
He found he'd made a large circle in his travels and was now outside Angel's office again. He fought the impulse to run downstairs, throw himself into Angel's arms and beg him for forgiveness. He'd get it, he knew. He'd done worse things and it wasn't as though he hadn't had cause but he still needed a little more time. He climbed to the roof instead.
This was one of Angel's favorite brooding spots, he thought as he looked out over the city, at the sun that was just starting to go down. Maybe it was a good place to think. Maybe it would help him, too. He sat down hard and leaned against the wall, then reached into his jacket pocket for his bottle.
Cordelia had returned home early from her audition to find Angel pacing around his apartment like a caged cougar. He was keeping his thoughts to himself, too. Cordelia could guess why; they were too angry for him to trust himself to let her hear them.
She had offered to go look for Doyle but without their link, they both realized it was pointless and she was left to sit and watch Angel pace and hit his punching bag and break things in his frustration. She kept her mind open, though, waiting for anything.
At last it came, dim, unfocused and she realized she was receiving from him only because he was far too drunk to keep control anymore. She stood and Angel turned to her.
"I know where he is," she said.
Doyle was feeling pleasantly detached as he watched the sky above him darken from blue to orange to red. The sun would be completely set by now, he thought. He should go down and talk to Angel. Or maybe just skip the talking and go right to the making up. He smiled slowly at the thought in the same moment he realized he was no longer alone.
He turned his head and squinted up into the gathering darkness. "Hi, Ange," he said sheepishly.
"You really are an idiot," Angel told him.
"What's wrong with him," Cordelia asked fearfully as Angel carried the half-demon out of the stairwell, cradled in his arms like a child.
//A case of the terminally stupid,// Angel sent.
//I'm sorry,// Doyle sent, his connection to his lovers so disrupted by the haze of alcohol that Cordelia could barely understand him through the static.
Angel pushed past the girl and entered the bathroom, where he dumped Doyle none too gently on the floor and began stripping off his upper garments.
Cordelia could sense Doyle's confusion and Angel was still keeping to himself. She didn't like what was happening; it frightened her.
Doyle was stripped to the waist now and Angel at last reopened his connection. //Get over the toilet,// he sent, his tone clear there would be no discussion.
Doyle crawled to the bowl and knelt before it, leaning on it with his elbows. He was getting frightened now and he wasn't the only one.
//What are you doing?// Cordelia sent, alarmed.
Angel didn't answer but put his hands on Doyle's body. All three felt the same healing aura he had used on them both earlier but it was different, less gentle.
Doyle felt his stomach heave as he brought up the liquor and vomited it out.
"You're hurting him," Cordelia cried aloud, feeling his pain herself.
//No,// Angel sent back. //I'm trying to purge the poison out of his body.//
They felt the aura again but deeper now, going into the veins, the cells, to extract the alcohol from his tissues. Doyle gasped as his systems were forcibly cleansed and then he vomited again. Cordelia nearly collapsed herself as she felt what he felt. It was as if he were experiencing an all-morning hangover all at once.
He pitched backwards and Angel gathered him in his arms, kneeling behind him. His face was white, drained and his eyes stared glassily. "Oh, God," he moaned.
Cordelia had slipped to the floor and leaned against the doorjamb, sucking in air. //What are you doing?// she sent accusingly.
//What I have to,// Angel sent back and even though he was determined, Cordelia could feel he, too, was sharing every bit of Doyle's suffering.
Unsteadily, the vampire climbed to his feet and carried Doyle into the bedroom. Then he returned and carried Cordelia in, too. He laid them both side by side, their arms and faces touching.
//Comfort him,// Angel sent to Cordelia gently and the girl reached up to stroke Doyle's face.
//I'm sorry,// Doyle was sending. //I'm so sorry.// He repeated it over and over and Cordelia felt the tears begin to spill down his cheeks.
Out in the apartment, they heard crashing, breaking glass. Cordelia tried to rise. //What is it?// she sent.
But Doyle realized what it was almost right away and despite his weakness, left the bed. //Angel,// he sent, fear rising in him again. //What are you doing, man?//
Cordelia followed a few steps behind.
//Go back to bed,// Angel sent patiently. //Go back and stay there. I'll be in soon.//
The vampire was moving methodically thought the kitchen cabinets, removing Doyle's liquor bottles and breaking them in the sink, spilling the liquid down the drain. Cordelia could see he'd already cleaned out the beer from the fridge, as well.
//Angel, stop it,// Doyle sent.
Angel turned to face him. //Where's the rest?// he sent, ignoring the other man's request.
"I said, 'stop it,'" Doyle said aloud, his voice flat and emotionless.
"I won't," Angel answered angrily. "I won't let you drink yourself into a stupor every time something happens that you don't feel like dealing with. Now tell me where else you've hidden it, Doyle, or I'll rip this whole God damned building apart to find it."
"I..." Doyle began and Angel pounced forward, towering over the smaller man. Doyle shrank away.
//Do you love it that much?// Angel sent. //Do you love it more than me? Than her?//
"Of course not," Doyle said, his voice barely audible.
//Then stop acting like it.//
Doyle closed his eyes, his face a mask of pain. //In the desk,// he sent, emotionless again. //In the nightstand, on the bookshelves, behind the books...//
//Help me, Cordelia,// Angel sent, as Doyle continued his list and the two went through the apartment and office, removing and emptying every bottle.
Doyle watched them, miserable and ashamed, until they were done at last. Cordelia went to him first and put her arms around him. He was trembling and didn't return her embrace.
//Come to bed,// she sent and he let her guide him, his head down.
Angel took in the sink and trashbin full on broken glass and empty bottles. Even he was surprised by the extent of it but in retrospect he realized he shouldn't be. They'd been living together for some time now and he and Cordelia both knew their lover began drinking almost as soon as he woke up and didn't really stop all day. But it wasn't like he was falling down drunk all the time; it was just he couldn't seem to function normally without it.
Forcing the alcohol out of him had been a risk and it still remained to be seen if it would pay off. He'd be in pain as he slowly detoxified, that was certain. Angel and Cordelia could help him, through their bond but it would still be difficult for him. He was still in shock now; it would get worse and probably soon.
Angel turned to the bedroom and saw that Doyle had allowed Cordelia to curl him against her, his head against her breast. He was weeping, long, racking sobs that shook his body and his connection to them was confused and erratic. Cordelia was stroking his hair and face, repeating "shh" very softly, over and over.
Angel watched them for what seemed like a very long time, too shaken by the outburst of emotion to move. He hadn't meant it to be like this. He'd wanted to get Doyle off the drink, certainly. Had been considering how to do it since he and Cordelia had brought him back. But he'd expected it to be gentle, another expression of their love and support.
Not like this.
He was so fragile in so many ways. This might have broken him.
At last Doyle raised one arm and wound it around Cordelia's waist, then turned his face into her shoulder. "I'm so ashamed," he murmured through his sobs. "After what you've done..."
//Don't,// Cordelia sent, filling that word with many meanings and such overwhelming love, Angel felt his knees go weak. He moved slowly towards the bed and slipped in beside Doyle, touching him gingerly, almost reverently, across his arms and shoulders. Despite his best efforts, Doyle's tears were renewed.
"Oh, God, Angel," he moaned. "Can you ever forgive me?"
//Always,// Angel sent, wrapping his arms around both his lovers possessively, protectively. But he lay awake again, long after the others finally drifted into fevered sleep.
Doyle's sleep was troubled and he came awake often, shivering, or in a sweat, or both at once. He rose and washed his face over and over, or paced nervously. Each time Angel took the smaller man in his arms, holding him tightly until he again relaxed into sleep. Sometimes Cordelia awoke, as well and joined in the embrace.
It was a long, restless night.
Angel got up about an hour before dawn and as quietly as he could gathered the bottles and broken glass out of the kitchen, carrying them out to the building's dumpster. When he returned to the apartment, he found Doyle standing in the kitchen, staring dazedly at the empty sink. Angel glanced into the bedroom, saw Cordelia still asleep, then joined Doyle.
//How are you?// he sent, approaching him cautiously.
//About as well as could be expected,// Doyle sent back and Angel felt his heart sink.
//I didn't mean for it to be like that,// Angel began but Doyle cut him off.
//No,// the half-demon sent. //You had to.//
Angel came close enough to put one tentative hand on Doyle's shoulder.
//It's okay,// Doyle told him. //I won't break.//
Torn between guilt and relief, Angel pulled his lover to him, his forehead bowed down to Doyle's shoulder. The Irishman could feel Angel's tears, cool against his skin and he put his own arms around the vampire's chest.
//None of that, now,// he sent.
//I was so afraid,// Angel sent. //I've never used my strength against you like that. Either of you. But when I saw you last night on the roof...//
//You hated me,// Doyle finished.
//No!// Angel head snapped up as he sent his savage denial.
//You hated that I was drunk, then.//
Angel nodded. //Yes, that's it.//
Doyle looked into Angel's eyes, his own eyes infinitely sad. //That's what I am, Angel,// he sent. //I'm a stupid, pathetic drunk.//
//No!// Angel denied again.
//Oh, I'm not saying I don't have my charms,// Doyle went on. //But I can't pretend I'm something I'm not. Believe me, you can't hate me half as much as I hate myself.//
Angel couldn't answer, could only run his fingers over Doyle's hair and face, sending every positive emotion he could until Doyle fell back into his arms.
//You don't understand,// Doyle sent. //You don't know what it's like to feel so out of control. To know something is killing you and yet want it more than anything in the world.//
//Yes, I do,// Angel answered, the words filled with love and in his arms, Doyle began to tremble.
//I know exactly what it's like, because I live with it every day,// Angel continued. //I fight the impulse to kill and feed almost every minute. The demon that keeps me alive constantly demands it.// He began to kiss Doyle's hair and stroke his back, as much for his own comfort as the other's. //But I have to fight it. We both do.//
Doyle squeezed Angel tightly, trying to still his own trembling body. //I can only promise to try,// he sent. //I'm sorry I can't give you more but...//
//I understand,// Angel told him. //And we'll be with you.//
//I appreciate that,// Doyle sent and he put his hand on the back of Angel's neck, drawing the vampire's face close to his for a gentle kiss that quickly rose in passion.
//Of course,// Doyle sent, a little more lightly now. //You and 'Delia could just keep me chained to the bed until I'm totally clean.//
//It could happen,// Angel replied and he scooped the young half-demon into his arms. Doyle whooped with pleasure and met Angel's lips in another fierce kiss. //If I could,// Angel sent. //I'd keep you naked in our bed every minute of the day. Keep both our thirsts at bay.//
Angel carried his lover into the bedroom and set him on the edge of the bed. Doyle pulled Angel's face closer for a soft, tender kiss. "Thank you," he said aloud.
Behind him he heard Cordelia turn over and rise up onto one elbow. //How are you?// she sent, though the question was pointless, since she was already reaching out to feel his sensations for herself.
//It hurts,// he said honestly. //But it's good hurt. It's healing pain.//
She put a hand on Doyle's shoulder, easing him back onto the bed and delicately stroked his chest and arm. //I'm here for you,// she sent. //I'll take your pain if you need me to.//
He turned his head to look into her eyes. //Not yet,// he sent. //But maybe.//
She nodded and laid her arm across him. He moved over to give Angel room to lay down, too and Angel did, curling an arm around Doyle's face. Doyle glanced back at Angel, then reached up to touch Cordelia's chin.
//There is one thing,// he sent, his fair eyes serious and a little stern. //I want you to forget about the unseemly circumstances of my birth.//
Cordelia began a mental protest but Doyle went on. //I'm half demon. It's unusual, maybe even rare. But it's perfectly normal. There's thousands of us, all over the place and we're not all chosen saviors and mystical promised ones. Most of us are just the product of some horny bastard getting his rocks off with some stupid girl. It's not something I'm happy about but that's life.//
Cordelia seemed about to comment but only nodded instead.
//I want you to call off my ex-wife,// Doyle sent. //I have good reasons for not wanting to talk to my family. You'll just have to trust me on this.//
Cordelia nodded again. //I'll call her in a few hours,// she promised.
Doyle pulled the girl close and kissed her forehead. //Thank you,// he sent. //Now, then. I seem to remember Angel and I were having a discussion about how to keep me in bed all day long.//
Angel laughed as he and Cordelia began to lavish Doyle's face and shoulders with kisses and he returned them in kind.
Cordelia went up to the office and dialed Harry's number. She hoped the ethnodemonologist wouldn't ask too many questions about why she was suddenly not interested in a subject that was driving her mad with curiosity only the day before but knowing Harry, she'd probably guess.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Harry, it's me," Cordelia said.
"I'm glad you called," Harry said, her voice taking on an anxious pitch Cordelia didn't like. "I've... actually, maybe I should be talking to Francis."
"It's okay," Cordelia said. "I'll tell him."
"Mmmmm, sure," Harry murmured uncertainly, then went on. "I spoke to Judith, Dolores's sister."
//Aunt Judy,// Doyle provided.
"She's... Dolores is missing, Cordelia." Harry was flustered but went on. "The family's alerted the police and they suspect foul play. I don't really have any more information..."
Cordelia felt Doyle below her seized with a sudden, cold fear and his sudden awareness that he really, really wanted a drink. "I'll call you back in an hour," Cordelia said, hanging up the phone.
//Hold on,// she sent to her lovers. //I'll be right down.//
