Title: Falling Back

Author/pseudonym: Lyric

Fandom: Angel

Paring: Angel/Doyle

Rating: PG

Archive: Unless I already gave you permission, please ask first.

E-mail address for feedback: lyriclocke@hotmail.com

Series/Sequel: Sequel(s) to follow.

Disclaimers: They're not mine. Apparently, Santa doesn't bring you EVERYTHING on your Christmas list.

Notes: This story is set about one year after the events in 'Parting Gifts'.

Summary: Angel and Cordelia aren't the only ones having difficulty letting go of the past.

Warnings: Spoilers up to and including 'Parting Gifts'. M/M implications (although, pretty mild at this pont).

FALLING BACK

By Lyric

Angel walked into the office of Angel Investigations only to be greeted by a familiar sight; Cordelia was sitting behind her desk with her head in her hands while her fingers gently massaged her temples. A half-empty glass of water and an open bottle of aspirin sat before her.

"Vision?" he ventured, already knowing the answer.

"Good guess. Nothing slips by you, does it?" she replied with her signature twist of sarcasm. Now, however, Angel could easily recognize the underlying humor that accompanied the words. He merely gave her a sympathetic smile.

"Bad one?" he asked in a gentle tone.

At this, Cordelia finally looked up. She returned his smile and shook her head wryly.

"I've had worse, believe me." she sighed and leaned back slightly. "This time, I just got a name. TPTB are getting all mysterious on us again. Trying to keep us on our toes, or whatever."

She indicated to the phone book that was open on the desk.

"The name was Miriam Sandburg. I checked the phone book, but she's not listed. I was just about to check the police files, to see if she's mentioned anywhere."

Angel moved to stand behind her, leaning down to watch the computer screen as Cordelia searched through the files. He smiled as she tucked a few short brown strands of hair behind her left ear, only to have them fall back into her face. Angel was mildly shocked when Cordelia had first walked in with her hair cut just below her chin a few months ago, but now he was getting use to the new look. As surprising as the sudden change was, he quickly became accustomed to it.

Cordelia's finger's flew over the keyboard, as her well-practiced eyes speedily scanned the information on each screen before almost immediately moving onto the next.

"You're getting pretty fast at that."

"Yeah, well, practice makes perfect, I guess. It's not like I had years of experience from looking up porn on the internet to rely on."

Angel's started slightly at the unexpected reference, before forcing a strained laugh. Cordelia was not so easily fooled, as she paused in her search and looked up at him with a sad look of apology in her dark eyes.

"Sorry. Caught you off guard, didn't I?" she asked in a soft voice.

"I'm all right." he quickly assured her, only half-believing the words as he spoke them.

Her hand covered his where it leaned on the desk top. She gave it a quick squeeze, before continuing her search.

His eyes remained fixed on the screen, but he was no longer paying attention to the information presented. Instead he was trying not to lose himself in memories of a lost friend.

Memories of Doyle.

Almost a year had passed since he had last seen the half-demon, and that lost, that void, was not something he had yet been able to get use to. Each time Angel thought he had a grip on his emotions, a stray thought or word would trigger an image of young bright eyes that also held an ancient wisdom, or the echo of a soft Irish lilt would seem to rise from the silence of an empty room.

Doyle's death had devastated both Angel and Cordelia. In the short time that they had known him, he had become such an intricate and important part of their lives, and his loss had been staggering. Since that night, the two had struggled to carry on, and in the process, grew together as friends. Angel still marvelled how this girl, who he had simply regarded in the past as spoiled and self-absorbed, was now his closest friend. He quickly found out that the harsh exterior was a cover for the the insecure and surprisingly vulnerable person that hid on the inside. He discovered a surprising strength and loyalty in Cordeila Chase. Now, Angel couldn't imagine how he would have survived the last year without her. He owed this friendship to Doyle.

He owed so much to him. v "Got it!" Cordelia suddenly declared, pulling Angel form his thoughts, "It seems our latest case has herself a little record. She was arrested for shoplifting earlier this year from, get this, an occult shop Downtown. Other than that, she's clean."

"Got an address?"

"Way ahead of you." she replied already scribbling it down on a sheet of paper. She handed it to him with a smile.

"Be careful, okay?"

Angel answered with a gentle smile. This past year, he had grown accustomed to that softly spoken send-off.

"I will."

*******

Angel could tell by the stale scent in the apartment that it was empty, and probably had been for some time. The place itself was a mess, with books and papers scattered everywhere. He looked for evidence of foul play, but couldn't really find any. It appeared that Miriam had left on her own accord, although somewhat hurryingly.

He picked through the many books, and noted that they appeared to be books on sorcery. He leafed through a couple, but was unable to recognize the strange language in which they were written. His eyes fell onto some loose papers, and upon further inspection, Angel concluded that they were most likely attempts at translations of the texts.

As he picked up one pile of papers, a photograph fell out and fluttered to the ground. In the picture, a young blonde girl was smiling up at a tall dark-haired boy. Tucking the photo in his pocket, he proceeded to walk around the room, picking up various objects, while searching for any indication where Miriam had disappeared. He noticed a license with the boy from the photo's picture resting on the dresser. He quickly read the name: Justin Evers.

Taking a few of the books and papers with him, as well as the photograph and license, he left the abandoned apartment.

*******

Cordelia flipped through the thick books with an exasperated sigh.

"Ooh, dusty old books. Just what we need more of around here."

"I'm more concerned with these translations. Something in these papers has to give us some kind of clue as to where Miriam is, or at least what kind of danger she's in."

"Well, these papers are only slightly easier to read then the books. I mean, just _look_ at this crappy handwriting. Whatever she was researching, it certainly wasn't tips on penmanship."

Angel raised his eyebrows slightly in agreement as he continued to scan the papers.

"So far, the only word that keeps coming up is 'Hour Stone'. That's probably a key factor in figuring out what's going on.", he remarked. He looked up at Cordelia before continuing, "Unfortunately, that's just about the only clue I can get from these translations. We're going to have to get someone who can read these books so we can figure out what this 'Hour Stone' actually is. And to make things more difficult, I don't think that these books were written by humans."

"Demons?"

"Demons."

Cordelia paused.

"Should I give Harry a call?"

Angel sighed deeply.

"I think we're going to have to."

*******

The meeting with Doyle's ex was, as always, tense at best. Cordelia and Angel had gone together to bring her the books that needed translation. The conversation was full of uncomfortable pauses and curt answers, but in the end, she agreed to help them.

In Harry's broken heart, she still blamed Doyle's death on Angel and their work together, and the reason why she ever helped them at all was somewhat of a mystery to Angel. However, despite her resentment, it still hurt him to see her in so much pain. Although she hade actively sought a divorce form Doyle, Angel knew that a part of her never stopped loving him. He understood this quite well.

Loving Doyle was an easy thing to do.

Angel and Cordelia watched silently as Harry poured over the open books, occasionally jotting down frantic notes. After a while, she looked up at the duo with a slight frown creasing her brow.

"Well, I don't recognize this language entirely, but it has similar characters and symbols from languages I do know. I think I can give you a rough translation of what it says."

"Anything you can tell us would be of help." Angel offered.

She looked at him a moment, and Angel felt like flinching from the ever-present blame that existed in her eyes.

"You were right in guessing that this is a spell book of some sort. It's actually pretty bizarre. The spells are all about the manipulation of time." she shook her head in disbelief, "I've seen some pretty strange things in my life, but do you really think such a thing is possible?" v Angel flashed back to the day, now so long ago, that he spent as a human. With Buffy. It was, at the time, everything he had ever dreamed of, before reality intruded bringing with it the reminder of responsibility. That day had been erased, leaving Angel with only his memories.

"Yes," he responded quietly, "I do."

Harry merely shrugged and looked back down at her notes.

"Anyway, that 'Hour Stone' that you mentioned is apparently the main source of power for a ritual that, according to this, is meant to give a second chance to the wielder."

"That doesn't sound _too_ bad" Cordelia interjected.

"Not until you get to the warnings."

"Warnings?" Angel asked cautiously.

"Yes, there are pages of them, warning against using the spell without proper experience or discipline."

She was interrupted when Angel's cell phone rang. He excused himself to answer.

"Hello?"

"It's Kate. Listen, I ran that name, Justin Evers, like you asked me."

"Do you know where we can find him?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. He's in Jude's cemetery Downtown. Apparently, he was stabbed in a botched robbery last year. Does that help you any?"

Angel thought back to the photos he had seen; the look of happiness frozen on Miriam's face as she looked at Justin.

"Yes, Kate, it helps a lot. Thank-you."

He hung up the phone, and looked warily at Harry.

"These warnings you mentioned, do they say what will happen if the spell is ill-used?"

She scanned through a few more pages, before answering him.

"It mentions over and over the frailty of time. Any misuse or mistakes, and the wielder could face the complete collapse of time."

The room was silent for long moments.

"Oh, boy." sighed Cordelia.

*******

A while later, found Cordelia and Angel driving through the streets of LA, that were still crowded despite the late hour.

"So, where are we headed?" she asked.

"We need to find Miriam and stop her before it's too late."

"Well, _duh_. I meant, _where_ are we going to look for her? In case it slip your notice, LA is a pretty big place. If she bugged out of her apartment, where are we going to find her?"

"From the description Harry gave us of the ritual, Miriam needs a quiet and secluded place to work the spell. I think we should start at the cemetery Justin is buried in."

Cordelia rolled her eyes.

"Running through graveyards in the dead of the night. I feel like I'm in high school all over again."

*******

The pair crept quietly through the cemetery, that was impossibly dark due to a moonless night. After a time, Angel caught the scent of burning candles, and after signalling Cordelia to follow behind him, moved toward that direction.

Miriam sat in the center of a large circle marked by various candles and stones. Her blond hair was longer then it had been in the abandoned photographs, and her eyes were shut tight in concentration. There were a few papers in front of her, that Angel assumed were the rest of her notes for the ritual. In her lap, she cradled a large stone, that appeared to give off an eerie green glow.

Angel stepped within the circle with Cordelia following close behind. Keeping his distance slightly, Angel called out,

"Miriam?"

The girl's eyes snapped open, and she looked distinctly startled.

"W-who are you?"

"We're here to help you, Miriam. You're in a lot of danger."

The surprise in her pale eyes hardened into anger.

"I don't know who sent you, but I don't need your help. I know what I'm doing."

Angel stepped forward.

"What you're doing is very dangerous. I don't think you understand that."

"I understand everything, and I don't care. I need him back." her voice broke on the last word. Angel tried again.

"Miriam, I know you're hurting --"

"Do you?!?" she interrupted in a furious hiss, "Tell me, do you know what it's like to find love, only to have it ripped from you?"

Her words struck deep, and Angel almost had to shut his eyes against the pain.

"Don't you see?" she continued in a slightly hysterical voice, "I can stop him. I can make sure he never goes to that store. I can keep him safe!"

"How do you know that everything won't happen exactly as it did?" Cordelia broke in, trying to reason with her.

"The circle protects me. I will remember. I can protect him."

Angel reached out and pulled the grief-stricken woman to her feet to try and get through to her. The Hour Stone fell on the ground between them.

"Yes, I know what that's like to lose someone you love, and believe me, I wish more than anything that I didn't. But what you're attempting here is too dangerous. It has to stop!" he said urgently.

Her eyes met his, and too late, Angel saw the madness swimming there. Miriam smiled wildly at him as he held her in his grip.

"It can't stop. It's already done."

His eyes were pulled down to the stone at his feet, and it was then he realized the faint glow he had noticed earlier was growing brighter and brighter, until it hurt to look, but he could not tear his gaze away. Behind him, he heard Cordelia call his name, and although he heard the fear in her voice, he could do nothing but stare as the green light grew until it was everywhere, covering everything, until the world vanished around him.

Pain raced through his body. It felt as though thousands of little claws were ripping him apart, pulling him into different pieces. He tried to cry out against the agony, but he no longer had a voice to scream. There was no more sound in him, no more sound at all, as a terrible silence fell upon everything there was, everything he ever knew.

His thoughts were being blurred, pulled apart, and as he felt everything he was slip away, he mourned his failure; his failure to protect the ones he loved, Buffy, Kate, Cordelia. The only ounce of solace that he had left was knowing that at the very least, Doyle had been spared this terrible fate...

...then a loud crash, and Angel felt himself falling forward, as his hands landed on a flat cool surface to steady himself. The green light was gone, suddenly, and Angel blinked his bleared eyes to clear them. As they began to focus, the first thing he saw was a broken glass at his feet, and crimson blood was leaking from it onto the smooth linoleum. He was gripping the edge of a table, and when he felt steadier, he straighted and looked around in bewilderment.

He was no longer standing in the cemetery, but instead, he somehow wound up back at his apartment in his kitchen.

"Angel!"

Immediately recognizing Cordelia's panicked voice, Angel rushed upstairs and into the main office. She was standing in front of her desk, looking scared. Her eyes lit up when she saw him, and she immediately rushed forward. He moved to meet her, and folded her into his arms.

"Oh my God, Angel! I thought you were dead. Hell, I thought _I_ was dead! What happened?"

Angel had no answer to give his frightened friend, so he simply held on, relieved that somehow, they had once again managed to survive.

"Well, I hate to be the one to interrupt, but I thought we had a case to work on."

Both Angel and Cordelia froze at the sound of the unmistakable Irish lilt. The vampire could feel Cordelia's heart hammering wildly against his chest. Feeling as though he was moving through water, his movements slow and difficult, Angel turned his head.

Leaning against the doorway, with his hands stuffed in the pockets of a worn brown leather jacket, watching them though impossibly bright orbs of blue green, was...a miracle.

END PART 1