Chapter 1
Author: Katherine Dimmick
Rating: NC-17 (overall story)
Spoilers: Season 1
Summary: A Power of Three story based on the first season finale, 'To Shanshu in L.A.'
Disclaimer: All characters and situations from the WB television series "Angel" are the property of 20th Century Fox, Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy et al. No ownership of these characters is claimed and no copyright infringement is intended.<
Thoughts between Angel, Doyle and Cordelia are marked //like this.//
Angel sat in the office in front of his desk that had been taken over by Wesley as he translated an important text. It was the scroll of Aberjian.
The book that Angel held in front of him was of no real interest and was only there to seem as though he was doing something other than listen to his lovers as they played on the couch behind him. They were trying to keep silent while Wesley concentrated on the scroll.
A smile crept over Angel's face as he listened to Cordelia explain what she liked most about Doyle.
//There is your unfashionable taste in clothes,// she thought as she undid the top button of his shirt. //Your wonderful blue eyes,// she kissed them shut. //Your tasty lips,// she ran her tongue around their outline. //I also love the fact that you love me,// she thought, a smile showing through her words.
//'Course I love ya princess and if Wesley wasn't here, I'd show ya both how much. But right now, Wesley is here and you're embarrassin' me to no end, y'know.//
//Awww, am I?// Her thoughts showed no remorse at all.
Suddenly Wesley's head went up and he silently regarded the three of them. He had to take a moment to gather his thoughts before he let them know he had worked out what was prophesied to happen.
Cordelia caught his glance and her hand fell away from Doyle's shirt at the expression on Wesley's face. Doyle caught her thought and followed her gaze.
Looking at Wesley, Doyle spoke aloud. "Somethin' must be wrong. Wesley looks like someone just walked over his grave."
Wesley met Doyle's glance, then turned away.
The scroll talked about the vampire with a soul and there was no question in Wesley's mind as to who that could be. The scroll was about Angel.
"That word, Shanshu," he began, once he was sure that he had the full attention of all three. "It refers to a transformation of some sort but it appears to be a symbol, a representation of something. I have been researching its deeper meaning for some time. I'm afraid that, as far as I can gather, it represents death," he finished, sounding worried. Cordelia sat straight up and looked at Wesley and then to Angel.
"No," she said aloud.
//'Delia, calm down,// Doyle told her as she bounced off the couch. Her brown hair swayed about as she hurried over to where Wesley was standing.
//No. I will not calm down. Don't you dare patronize me.//
"Wesley, you said this was about the vampire with a soul, that it was about Angel. You're saying he is going to die?" she asked in a quiet voice.
Angel looked at her as she had a look over Wesley's shoulder at words she knew she couldn't understand. He could feel the fear rising within her and it was all that he could do not to go over there and pull her into his arms.
"I could be wrong. The prophecies of Aberjian were written over 4000 years ago, in a dozen different languages. Some of them weren't even human. There is the possibility that I made a mistake."
"A transformation." Cordelia spoke sharply, her anxiety making her sound angry. "Maybe they're only talking about changes, right? It doesn't have to mean death, does it? I mean, Angel has gone through a lot of changes lately."
"Is there anything else?" Angel forced himself to ask calmly as he blocked his lovers from his mind. Cordelia's distress was painfully distracting and he needed to think.
"Of course there's something else. We will not let Angel die." She turned toward Angel, feeling him blocking her out and spoke aloud to him. "I can't let you die, not after everything we've been through."
Doyle walked over to where Cordelia stood behind Wesley and silently hugged her, giving her the comfort that Angel wanted to give her.
A quiet thought from Doyle forced its way past Angel's mental shields.
//I'll take her downstairs, man. Talk to Wesley and don't block us out. It doesn't help.//
Angel just nodded and watched silently as Doyle led Cordelia out of the room. Just as they were about to descend to the apartment below, Cordelia released Doyle and the comfort that he provided from her grasp, as she almost fell down under the force of the vision that took over her thoughts. Doyle staggered, too, and Angel ran to grab them both, opening his mind to them.
Angel and Doyle reached out to make as much contact with Cordelia as possible. They both knew that sharing would reduce the pain of the vision. Holding Cordelia between them, they swayed together as they experienced the images and the sensations in her mind.
Angel saw as much as he needed before he left, barking orders to Wesley and Doyle to look after Cordelia and telling them he would be back soon.
Cordelia had a glazed look about her as they led her down to the kitchen. //I will not let him die. I will not let him die,// she thought over and over again. This was the only real thought that Doyle could hear.
Wesley made tea and Cordelia sat silently, ignoring the others, lost in her own thoughts and fears. She wouldn't let either Wesley or Doyle touch her and this hurt Doyle, knowing there was nothing he could do to help. This was something that she would have to work out on her own.
Some of the pain in her thoughts must have reached Angel, despite her attempts to block, because he sent that he was almost home.
Wesley had brought the scroll and several books downstairs and had now claimed the kitchen table. Shaking his head. he announced glumly: "I've tried to find another meaning but it seems quite final. The Shanshu is the ultimate transformation, the radical change of one's state to its opposite, the end of all striving. I don't see what else it could mean, other than death."
"Princess," Doyle said aloud for the benefit of Wesley. "Angel faces death every day."
Cordelia looked back at him but her face was bleak.
//But it isn't everyday that you hear a prophecy that the man you love is going to die. But not only do I lose Angel, I will also lose you. I can't lose both of you.//
//I'm not going to die, love,// Angel thought as he walked into the room. To his astonishment and hurt, Cordelia got up from her chair and walked quietly into the bedroom, shutting the door behind her.
"Angel, I'm going to go to the rare bookshop and see if I can find anything else in regards to this scroll," Wesley said, rising from his chair and then placing the scroll in the weapons cabinet. He knew that the three of them had to be alone.
Cordelia was taking this really hard. Wesley knew the reason. If Angel died, Doyle would be taken away also and that would leave her alone. He started toward the elevator without saying another word.
"Wesley, wait up," Cordelia yelled at him from the bedroom, effectively making him pause in closing the elevator door. //I am going out,// she sent her lovers as she walked out of Angel's bedroom... And with that she walked out with Wesley.
//Princess — // Doyle sent.
//I need to be alone for a little while,// she sent back. //Please.//
//All right,// he sent reluctantly and withdrew his thoughts from her mind.
Cordelia walked slowly through the market where Wesley had taken her, at her request. She was trying to put the events of that morning into perspective.
Angel might die. And if he did, then Doyle would go back to being dead. If one went, the bond between them caused the other two to suffer. It was one of her biggest fears that something would happen to one of the men she loved dearly.
How could she live if the two of them died? And who, or what, would she become without them? It was the one fear that she tried to keep hidden from her lovers.
Looking at what the stalls held, she stopped before a stand covered in art supplies. She'd bought enough supplies to last her a year, the saleswoman had told her. Maybe this would help get her mind off worrying when Angel was going to die.
//Cordelia, come home, please,// she heard Angel plead. There was worry in his mental voice and she could hear it.
//Please, Princess. We need to talk,// Doyle added. The tenderness in his thoughts almost brought tears to her eyes again.
//Of course I'll come home. I'll be back shortly.// she sent back as someone bumped into her and brushed her hand. By the time she had looked around to see who it was, the person was gone. Shrugging her shoulders, she continued making her way through the large gathering of people who crowded the marketplace searching for the perfect gift.
//We really need to talk, now,// Angel sent.
//I...// Cordelia started when she felt the tightness of her head which meant a vision was coming. Rational thought stopped as the images filled her mind. The pain was enough to make her drop her bags and grab her head. Fortunately the vision only lasted about 30 seconds. Looking around embarrassed, she picked up her bags and sent Angel and Doyle a quick message that she was okay.
//I'll tell you about it when I...// she sent before another vision ripped through her head. This time it didn't end before the next vision started and then the next one, rolling in waves over her without respite. She collapsed to the ground in pain, holding her head, as a crowd gathered around to stare.
Doyle was lying on the couch, recovering from the last vision, when he felt Cordelia have another one. He didn't feel any pain as he normally would when she wasn't there to hold and the pictures that flew through his head were slowly starting to fade as the vision continued. By the time Angel returned to the room, Doyle could barely make out what he knew Cordelia must be seeing.
//Something's wrong, love,// Doyle told Angel, as both men felt Cordelia slipping from their minds. //Cordelia's fading out of the link. I can't feel her. It's like something is blocking her from us.//
//I can just barely feel her myself,// Angel told him.
"What happened?" he asked aloud, voicing this question as a sign of his worry.
When the phone rang, Angel rushed to answer and Doyle saw his face grow whiter than usual as he listened. After a moment, Angel opened his mind to Doyle, letting him hear the voice on the other end of the line.
//They have her,// Angel informed him as he hung up the phone. //Stay here, tell Wesley that she has been admitted to St. Matthew's Hospital. The two of you can meet me there.//
//I'll come with you now.// Doyle started to get up off the couch, then winced as the link with Cordelia flared to life again, with an overwhelming blast of pain.
//No. Whatever is happening, it's affecting you, too, more than me. You'll only slow me down. Wait here for Wesley and then the two of you can come to the hospital together.//
Angel grabbed his coat and headed towards the sewer exit he used during the day.
//Let me know...// Doyle started but was cut short as a tortured scream ripped through his skull. The echo of it cut into Angel's mind, too, and they stared at each other. It could only be Cordelia and the pain in that scream was unbearable.
//I'll be there as soon as I can,// Doyle thought. //Just make sure she's okay.// Angel nodded and left as quickly as he could.
His heart had been broken in two by that scream and he knew that Doyle had been close to tears.
After Angel left, Doyle collapsed back onto the couch. He wasn't sure which was worse – the pain when Cordelia's mind connected with his or the silence when it didn't. The only thing that he could do to help her was to try to keep his mind open, no matter how much it hurt.
The waves of Cordelia's pain and terror kept Doyle from noticing at first that someone else had entered the apartment.
Angel hadn't been gone for long when Doyle sensed another presence. He knew it wasn't Wesley, because it definitely smelled like a demon. In fact, it smelled like a dead demon, one that had been dead for a very long time.
Reluctantly, Doyle closed off the link to Cordelia, wondering if he would ever be able to restore it. At least he knew that she wasn't dead, because he was still alive.
At the moment, that was not much comfort.
He stood and began tracking the intruder, finally locating it in front of the weapons cabinet where the scroll was stored. He grimaced in silent frustration as he realized that it was standing between him and any weapon that he could reach.
Doyle made no noise as he approached the creature but it sensed him anyway and spun around. It was wearing a mask and a cloak.
"You! You're not supposed to be here," it hissed and landed one punch to Doyle's face, knocking him unconscious.
Then the demon took the scroll from its place, left something behind where the scroll had been and left the apartment the same way Angel had earlier.
