Author: Shan [email protected]

Title: Homecoming: Cordy

Rating: NC17 Adult situation

Pairing A/C of course...

Disclaimer: Joss and Co own them, not I! If I did the PTB would require Angel to be naked at all times.

Distrbution: my page http://www.geocities.com/downrightlinear and anywhere else that would like, please just let me know.

Summary: Cordelia comes home to find Connor is gone. Cordy POV

Author's notes: I'm sick as a dog with the flu and this fic wouldn't let me rest. Please forgive if things stop making sense after part one. I took some meds then :)

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Part One

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I knew.

Before the bag even touched the tiles on the lobby floor.

I knew.

"Where is he?" I spoke.

Fred raised her head from Gunn's shoulder and looked at me with red rimmed eyes and a myriad of expressions crossing her face ranging from relief to anguish, all in a fraction of a second. "Cordelia..." her voice sounded flat and smaller than normal.

"Where is he?" I asked again, more demanding.

Fred whispered to Gunn, soft and low, the only word I understood was 'Angel'. He nodded, then helped her to stand. She left, on hasty feet.

Gunn, pale face and tight lipped held out his hands and slowly walked towards me.

Wesley was nowhere in sight.

"Gunn. Where is he?"

He stopped a few feet in front of me. "He's coming."

I didn't get the chance to correct him as I heard multiple feet cascading down the stairs. Fred reached Gunn's side quickly, bottom lip sucked into her mouth is a childish gesture of nervousness.

Angel hesitated, then slowly walked towards me. Each step was forced, as if he was so tired even placing one foot in front of the next was a giant undertaking.

Even without seeing Angel's face, seeing his eyes, I knew. He was gone.

"No..." Please tell me I'm wrong. Please tell me the vision was wrong. Please tell me I am in time. Please.

Angel, who was always able to read me like no one I'd ever known shook his head.

"Angel... please!" I begged.

He sent my prayers crashing in a voice as lifeless as his eyes. "He's gone."

I trembled, went cold, then feverish. The shaking grew as my skin paled, the blood rushing downwards, leaving me lightheaded. Everything was suddenly too bright.

Angel continued, his eyes never leaving mine. "Holtz took him."

"Connor..." The screaming from my soul drown the shattering of my already fragile heart. The ripping of every fiber in my being overcast the pain of my knees cracking on the hard floor. The sound of a child's laughter, Connor's laughter, filled my vision, my ears, my world.

Spinning, clutching, my world rose in a cool embrace, harsh whispered words I couldn't hear for the memories filling my ears.

Then the silence crept in on fuzzy dulling feet. Everything mercifully went dark.

Later; minutes, hours, days... I really couldn't say just how long, I found myself in the bed I used on occasion when I stayed at the hotel.

Confused, I laid there, unmoving, and tried to figure out exactly why I was here, in this room, alone... and still dressed. I started tracking from my last memory forward, calling a taxi at the airport. Then kissed Groo... or José as the security Chief of the cruise line wanted to call him on his employment record... goodbye. Telling the driver to break laws to get me to the Hyperion. Opening the door and seeing Fre-

Connor.

"Oh God..." I clutched my stomach and rolled into a ball as a fresh stab of pain overloaded my senses. "Connor..."

"Cordy."

His voice somehow reached me through the haze, breaking it just enough for me to roll over. He was sitting, motionless except for his eyes which touched and slid over my dampened face.

"Angel." My voice broke, and I was helpless to stop it. But he was still able to read the question I couldn't ask.

He nodded, straightened in his seat and tightened his hands on the arm rests, knuckles white with the strain. "There was a prophesy." His tone sterile, tepid. "We found evidence of it here after the kidnapping. It said that the Father will kill the Son. I did not know of it's existence."

"Wesley didn't say anything?" I couldn't believe he would hold back something of that magnitude.

"Wes-" Angel stopped, and looked away but not before I caught a flicker of pain and betrayal in his eyes.

Oh Wesley... what did you do?

"Wesley never told any of us. Though, as it turned out everyone else knew. Holtz, Wolfram and Hart, they knew and did all they could to speed along the prophecy's fulfillment, including feeding me Connor's blood."

I gasped with goulishness of that act.

Angel continued, his voice gaining a small amount of passion with each word. "Wesley thought I was a danger to Connor and decided to take him away. Only he made a mistake and Lorne discovered his plan. Wesley attacked Lorne and took Connor." I knew there was more behind that by the way he pulled his gaze away from mine. But this wasn't the time for pressing. "Holtz and his followers attacked us. Fred and Gunn went to Wesley's apartment and found him laying outside, his throat slit-"

I bit back a yelp, shocked and hurting I closed my eyes and pictured Wesley, his uniquely handsome face pale and bloodless in death, my heart thumped painfully. "Is he...?"

"No." Angel's voice again went cold, hard. "He is in Intensive Care, fair condition."

The tightness eased slightly, the clenched again when Angel resumed the story. "I caught up with Lilah and followed her to where Holtz was spotted. There was a standoff. And there was a time and dimension traveling demon, who was working with both Holtz and Lilah. He opened a portal to a hell dimension. Holtz took Connor and went into it."

I leaned back and closed my eyes, trying to put in sequence in my mind his words and what had transpired. Each scene bombarded me with a sensation of guilt, guilt so strong I could hardly breathe past it.

Angel suddenly jumped up from his seat and began pacing.

I watched his movements, tense and stiff, no trace of his normal fluid grace. His hands clenched into fists, then raked through his normally styled, but now lank and lifeless hair. The pattern taking him from the chair to the closet then back again. Over and over and over.

"I should have been here." I am so sorry I wasn't.

"What?" He stopped and looked at me sharply.

"Maybe... if maybe I had been here, then..." I choked, the guilt and remorse losing my throat.

"Cordy, no." Angel stopped at the foot of the bed.

The words rushed out, past the dam. "If I had been here maybe Wes would have told me about the prophesy. Or maybe we could have hidden Connor from Holtz. Or maybe-"

"No, Cordelia. No 'Ifs'. Please."

It was the 'please' that stopped the flood of words, but not of tears.

"What do we do now, Angel. Tell me that. What do we do now?"

Angel sighed, deeply. "I don't know, Cordelia. I've had three days to figure that out and I'm no closer now than I was when lying in the parking lot, waiting for daylight."

"Oh god, Angel!"

He shook his head and semi shrugged, though the pain was evident in each movement.

I rolled back over, unable to cope, needing a moment to gather strength which never came. Instead I saw the spot where I would lay my precious boy next to me, propped slightly on the pillows and I would tell him great stories of bravery and heroes and champions. He would coo and smile then grant me a breathless giggle and fill my world with the light of him. I can't. I just can't... not without him. Please, not without my baby... please...

I didn't realize I spoke aloud, or even whispered until Angel was suddenly filling my vision as he laid himself next to me. Dark, tear stained eyes met my equally dark and tear stained eyes.

"I can't either."

Gasping from breath I cried to him. "Why?"

"I don't know." He whispered.

I tore my gaze from his to look at my trembling hands. "My arms are empty, Angel. They shouldn't be, they weren't before. But they are now. There's nothing to hold now!"

His hands caught mine, gripping them fiercely, shaking as much if not more than mine.

"Hold me. My empty arms will hold you."

I looked at him through the blur of tears and saw his understanding, knew it wouldn't end the pain but it might ease it a little. Maybe it would be enough.

As if reading my thoughts he said, "It will be. For now."

I grabbed, for dear life. I wrapped myself around him, and he me, with no hesitation or awkwardness that had come before with our infrequent touches. Hands petted and stroked in comfort until we couldn't tell our own hand from each other's.

It was enough. For now.

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Part Two

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I could feel his hands stroking slowly up, down, looping circles at the small of my back. Each trail of his fingers awaking sensations that should have been dead, suppressed under the layers of pain, guilt, loss and more pain.

Tack another layer on top of pure guilt for these completely inappropriate feeling. This was surely not the time, nor the place for this.

Well, it was the place, but the timing was wrong.

Very wrong.

His fingers grazed the nape of my neck, teasing the ultra sensitive hairs there. I stifled a moan, but he heard me, I felt him tense against me.

Then relaxed again when I kept silent. The more he gently stroked my hair and back, the dead feeling, the overwhelming emptiness became a little less overwhelming.

Tentatively, I pressed a soft, feather light kiss to his neck, just above the hollow of his throat. I felt, more than heard, the small moan that went through him at my touch. Testing, slowly, I began mirroring his exact movements on my back onto his own.

The emptiness filled a drop at a time.

His fingers suddenly tangled in my hair and pulled gently back until I met his dark gaze. "Cordy." The pain and anguish mixed with a desperate need I recognized immediately, and responded to just as quickly.

"Angel."

He growled, a deep rumble that echoed in my own body and pressed his lips to mine. Fierce, hungry, I let him take what he wanted. Desire and need raked over me as I deepened the kiss, dueling my tongue with his.

My hands ripped at his shirt as I felt my own pull free of my pants then go over my head. I pulled his away and ran my fingers over the smooth planes of muscles there, down to the buttons of his black jeans. I gasped for breath as he pulled away from my lips to capture a sensitive silk covered nipple in his cool mouth. It was like nothing I'd ever felt in my admittedly limited experience.

The heat his touch sparked flamed higher inside as his hand slipped below the waistband of my pants. Carefully, but hastily he slipped his hands inside my panties and touched me with a pair of cool, thick fingers. I cried out as he discovered my obvious readiness for him. A growl tore through him.

He pulled his hand away, ignoring my whimper of protest, and pulled my pants off, along with my panties. I removed my bra as he undid his jeans, freeing himself.

Growling, game face flickering he moved over me. I could feel this thickness prodding at my opening and it was all I could do not to scream in frustration when he hesitated.

"Cordy."

I opened my eyes.

"Are you sure?"

"Fill me, Angel. Take away the emptiness. Please!"

He thrust forward and I arched beneath him, pleasure and pain mixing into an almost unbearable concoction. He pulled back and thrust again, stretching me so fully I felt I could rip in two, and die happily. He moved again, blocking out the lights, the room. Again, stronger, and he blocked the pain. Again, the darkness. The guilt. The world.

The whispered, "I love you." blocked out everything but him.

Until the world exploded in a flash of light, a strain of muscles and a feeling of heaviness as he collapsed on top of me, breathing heavily though unnecessarily.

I could hardly breathe at all.

But after a moment I did. I breathed, and I remembered.

As did Angel.

He rolled off of me and stood, throwing on his clothes as quickly as we'd removed them. He wouldn't look at me.

"Angel. Please."

"That was wrong, Cordelia. It should not have happened. Not like that."

"No, Angel, it wasn't."

"Connor is gone, Cordelia! And I'm here fucking you instead of looking for him!"

I flinched, couldn't help it. "Angel... I hate to tell you, but it was nature. Reaffirming life. It wasn't wrong."

"It was for me."

He slammed the door.

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Part Three

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I made my way carefully down the stairs. It had been several hours since Angel left. A good cry, a quick shower, fresh clothes and I was feeling a bit more normal. Hollow, hurting, in misery each time one of Connor's toys or bibs or pieces of clothing came into sight, but I was functioning.

Fred and Gunn looked over at me from the counter, a book lay open between them.

"Hi guys."

"Cordelia. Are you okay?" Fred wrung her hands together. "You kinda freaked out, then we didn't hear anything from you for almost a day and we were getting worried."

I attempted a smile for her. "Yes, Fred. I'm managing. How are you holding up?"

Fred lowered her eyes. "I cry a lot." She sounded as if she was starting to choke up a bit.

"Gunn?"

"I hold her a lot." I nodded, grateful they had each other to hold onto in this time of need at least. "Gunn, how is Wesley?"

The immediate flash of hatred that flared, then was hidden scared me. "He's in the hospital, fighting for his trait- life." I knew what he was about to say and was bothered, but I didn't say anything.

Fred sniffled, wiped quickly and raise her slightly dampened and reddened face. "I'm going to the hospital to see him. Would you like to come?"

I heard a sudden, loud noise from the basement. Sounded suspiciously like chain breaking and a bag hitting the cement wall. Either that or a Mac truck was loose downstairs.

"No, Fred. I need to talk to Angel. Is Wesley conscious?"

She shook her head. "He hasn't been since we found him. But the Doctor's say he will come back when he's ready."

"If he's awake when you get there, please give him my love."

Fred smiled, understanding and respect in her blue eyes. "I will, Cordy."

"Damn. Barbie's had a few too many tropical drinks on that vacation." Gunn muttered low, but not low enough.

"Gunn." I put my hands on my hips and scowled at him. "Wesley is family. Until we know what happened, what his plans and motives were he remains family. Got that?"

"Yeah, Barbie. I got that." He said, looking anything but happy about it. "Come on." He grabbed Fred's hand and pulled her out the hotel.

I waited until they were gone before I opened the basement door. I could hear Angel grunting, thumping fists into the bag with a force that would have broken most men's hands.

If he heard my descent, he gave no indication until I said his name.

He stopped. Took hold of the swinging bag and brought it to a rest. "What do you want, Cordelia?"

"We need to talk, Angel."

"There's nothing to talk about, Cordelia. What happened, it was a mistake."

A fresh stab to ooze along with the other ones.

"It was not a mistake, Angel. It was necessary, for us. For you. For me." I felt like I was talking to a wall, but it was only his back. "It helped for a time, Angel."

"It was wrong, Cordelia. Not the act itself. Just the timing. There should be no love in this place while he's gone."

"No love? Angel... love is all that's keeping us from falling apart."

He kept silent, but I saw his shoulders drop.

"What we did was an act of love, Angel. Of sharing our pain and loss and hearts. It was reaffirming we are alive."

Angel grunted. "I'm dead. Just in case you've forgotten that, Cordelia. I'm dead. So is my son."

I stepped back, unwillingly, under the pain of that statement. Tears blurring my vision as Angel resumed pounding into the helpless bag.

"Angel, I-"

"Get out."

I stood, unable to move until he yelled "Get out!" Then I ran for the stair.

I never made it. The vision pummeled me as surely as Angel pummeled the bag and I fell forward, crashing to the cold cement floor. I barely felt it as cool hands cradled me, touching my face. I couldn't move as the painful waves over swept my consciousness.

I became aware of my surroundings slowly, loath to leave the vision behind. Strong, cool arms encircled me, holding my head above the cold floor. Angel was muttering nonsensical words into my hair.

"Angel." I pulled away and sat up, turning slowly to face him. "Angel..." I breathed, then smiled. "Your wrong, Angel."

"What?" He carefully reached forward to touch my face then cup my cheek. "Are you hurt, Cordy?"

"You're wrong, Angel." I kissed his palm and took his hand between mine. "Connor is alive."

"What?!" Angel pulled back. "He was taken into a hell dimension by a man who hates me. Connor can not still be alive."

I smiled, sad and wistful, but a smile. "I just saw him, Angel. He's alive."

"Tell me."

"I don't know where, but the sky was purple, the ground yellow. I could see it behind him. Holtz was pointing out something in a book to him. Connor was about 4 years old. He looked healthy, Angel. He was smiling!" Tears streamed down my face. "He's alive, Angel. And he's being taken care of."

"Holtz told he would raise him like he was his own. I just didn't believe him."

Angel still sounded skeptical to my ears. I places my hands on either side of his face and forced him to look into my eyes. "He's alive, Angel. He's healthy and safe." He didn't saw anything, just searched for the truth in my gaze.

He found it and gave me a sad smile. "Thank you, Cordy." HE leaned forward and kissed me. It lacked the heat and the passion of before, but none of the love.

Which is what will see us through everything until Connor is back where he belongs. With us.