Title: Say It Out Loud
Author: meagan
Summary: Cordelia and Xander talk. Sequel to "Music for the Heartbroken."
Spoilers: Everything plus _Angel_.
Disclaimer: Of *course* they belong to someone else. I could never come up with characters like this. Specifically, they belong to Mutant Enemy, Fox, WB (even though they really don't deserve it after what they did to us this season), and anyone else I forgot.
Rating: G, I think. Maybe PG, but not by much.
Distribution: Please ask.
Feedback: Yes, please.
Note: I couldn't leave well enough alone. The more I thought about it, the more unfinished that other story felt. Of course, the torrential downpour that I woke up to this morning didn't help perk me up. So here's another helping of angst. I seem to be good at that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They hadn't done much talking. Just wandered around, in semi-comfortable silence. Finally, he realized he was tired. And dirty. It had been a long, hot drive that day, and he wanted nothing more than to take a nice, cool shower and collapse on a couch or, better yet, on a bed. But first he wanted to make sure that Cordelia made it safely home. He glanced quickly around the apartment, telling himself that he was merely curious about where she lived. He knew she was sharing an apartment with Angel. He wasn't sure he wanted to know just what the two were sharing in the apartment. He also wasn't too sure he liked the neighborhood. He had carried his bag with him to the diner just in case someone decided to steal his car so he would at least be left with clean underwear, and it came with him to the apartment as well.

"Sleep with me?"

He froze. Not words he had expected to hear from her. And not words that indicated that she wanted to interact with him on an emotional level. After Faith, he wasn't willing to let himself get involved with someone on that superficial level. Especially if that someone was Cordelia. "I'm not sure that's a good idea, Cordy."

She sighed. A listless sound, as if she didn't have the energy to actually care about anything. And, truthfully, she didn't. "Not like that. I mean really sleep. I want to fall asleep listening to your heart beat and wake up in the middle of the night because your hair is tickling my nose." She turned away from him. "Never mind. It was a dumb idea. I just thought that if you were here, I could actually sleep for once. Instead of staring at the ceiling remembering what I did wrong."

After several false starts, he found his voice. "You didn't do anything wrong. I did."

"No, it had to be something I did." Her head rolled forward, and he realized she was crying and attempting to avoid his eyes.

"Hey, please, don't do that." Before he realized what he was doing, he was across the room, cradling her head against his chest.

Finally, she asked the question she had until then posed only to herself. "Why? I mean, why did you do it? If it wasn't something I did wrong, what was it?"

A question he could actually answer. One thing he had done plenty of on his road trip was think about what he had done and why he had done it. It had been a very introspective time for him. A very unusual experience. "Are you sure you want to hear this?" He felt her head bob up and down, nodding an affirmative answer. "I didn't want to grow up."

"What are you talking about?" His answer made no sense at all.

"Willow --" He felt Cordelia tense in his arms at the name, but he continued. "She was my last tie to childhood. To the time before we knew that vampires and boogeymen really did exist. Before we had to worry about what we would do once we had to go out in the real world, whatever that is. I miss that time. Then when I saw her in that dress, it was like the world was crashing around me. I mean, suddenly, she was a woman. Not a girl. And that meant I had to become a man. I wasn't ready for that. As long as we were still kids, I could pretend that I was a phase you were still going through. Because I really believed that I was just a phase. I didn't want it to end. And you were everything I ever wanted. You still are. I couldn't believe that you wanted to be with *me*. And I knew that one day, you were going to wake up and remember how wonderful you are and that someone like me isn't supposed to be with you. End of phase." He stroked her hair. "It was easier to do something now -- well, then -- that would make you walk away than to wait for you to leave later."

She looked up at his face, eyes fixed on some spot on the opposite wall. "Why would I want to do that?"

He looked down at her, meeting her eyes. "Women like you aren't supposed to be with guys like me. It upsets the balance of nature." He sighed. His head dropped, cheek resting on her shoulder. "I guess that's what happens when you live on a Hellmouth."

"So why are we here? I mean, if it was just the Hellmouth at work, why do I still feel this way?"

"What way?" When she didn't answer, he realized he hadn't said the words out loud. Quietly, he repeated, this time with an actual voice, "What way, Cor?"

Shaking her head, she stepped away from his embrace. "I can't say it. If I say it out loud, it won't come true." He watched her pull clothing from a pile of laundry in the corner. He had realized the apartment had one bedroom earlier. He quickly surveyed the room they were standing in. The pile of blankets and pillows on the couch -- not to mention the lack of thick curtains over the window -- indicated that she was sleeping in the living room. Cordelia Chase, former princess, was crashing on a friend's couch -- if Angel could truly be counted as a friend rather than a mere acquaintance stepping in to lend a hand out of guilt -- because she had nowhere else to go. "I'm going to take a shower. Please stay?" She didn't wait for his response. She didn't want to hear him refuse.

He heard the shower turn on. His cue to sit on the edge of the couch and cry. But just when he decided the coast was clear and he was safe to let the tears fall, the apartment door opened.

"Oh, Xander, sorry." Angel frowned. "What are you doing here? Did I give you the wrong address?"

Xander shook his head. "No. I ran into Cordy. She wanted to talk."

"Ah." Angel moved something into the dim apartment. A floor fan. He explained, "It's hot in here, and the air conditioning is broken. I thought Cordelia could use this."

"Yeah, probably." The teen gazed off into space.

"Hey, look, I've got stuff to do tonight. I'm a night person, anyway." When Xander didn't acknowledge the small joke, Angel sighed and continued. "Why don't you stay here tonight? There are more sheets and blankets in the closet. You and Cordy can arm wrestle for the bed." Still no response. "Please? This isn't the best neighborhood, in case you hadn't noticed. I don't want her here by herself. There are too many bad guys out there." The vampire didn't add that he was afraid to consider what *she* might do if left alone that night. Or that he had helped orchestrate the evening without Cordelia's knowledge.

Finally, Xander nodded. If anything happened to her that he could have prevented... He didn't want to even consider that possibility. "Okay."

"Thanks." Angel pulled his wallet out of his pocket. "And could you take her out for breakfast? And lunch and any other meal you can? I can't remember the last time I saw her actually eat food." Or smile or do anything but gaze into space and try to avoid crying. She wasn't always successful. Xander nodded. "Thanks."

The shower shut off. Both men turned to watch the bathroom door, waiting for Cordelia to appear. Xander glanced at Angel out of the corner of his eye. He saw someone concerned for a friend forced upon him by circumstance. Nothing more. He wondered what Angel saw.

The bathroom door opened. Angel quickly squeezed Xander's shoulder. "Take care of her." And then he was gone.

"Was that Angel?" Cordelia was dressed in boxer shorts and a t-shirt, squeezing the water from her hair and gently working out tangles.

"Yeah. He said he had stuff to do tonight, so you could sleep in his bedroom. And he brought this fan."

"Oh." She pulled more towels from the pile of laundry. "Here."

"What, do I smell bad or something?"

Her face fell. "No, I just thought --"

"Hey, I didn't mean that." He pulled her into his arms. If he made her cry one more time, he would have to jump out of the window or something. "Remember me? A lame joke for every occasion?" He kissed the top of her head and released her, taking the towels from her hand. "Thank you. I'll try not to use all of the hot water."

She smiled faintly. That was something even she could recognize as an attempt at humor. It was just too hot to consider using anything but lukewarm water. So Angel said she could sleep in his room. She gathered clean sheets and made the bed. Task completed, she sat heavily on the edge of the bed. When did everything start to fall apart? Was it when her father was arrested for tax evasion? When she was soundly dumped by those she had once considered to be her friends? When she had discovered Xander in Willow's arms? When she broke up with him on Valentine's Day because her so-called friends told her to? When he had become a soldier on Halloween? Or had she been doomed from the start?

Sighing, she decided it didn't matter. No use obsessing over the past when she had her whole future to cry about. She curled up in the middle of the bed, clutching a pillow against her stomach.

Xander emerged from the shower, clad in pajama bottoms and a t-shirt. Cordelia wasn't in the living room. His stomach lurched. If she was gone, he would just have to walk out the door and find someone to kill him. It shouldn't be too difficult in this neighborhood. Then he heard soft sobs coming from the bedroom. Maybe he should go find someone to kill him anyway. "Cordy?" He used his best calm-the-kitten voice. "Is it okay if I sit in here with you?" She didn't answer, but he decided to take that as a yes. He perched on the edge of the bed, stroking her back. "Your hair --" He felt her tense. She no doubt expected an insult or a shallow compliment. "Can I braid it?"

She nodded, relaxing. She remembered a time long ago, back before she knew about social standing and money, when her mother would braid her hair before she went to bed. The gentle fingers would plait, and mother and daughter would chatter about the events of the day. She sat upright and turned her back to him. He first carefully combed out the tangles at the end of her long tresses, then turned his attention to her scalp. She had long ago decided that heaven was a place where you received daily scalp massages. Her eyes fell shut, and before she realized it, she was sighing contentedly.

He froze at the noise. It was a sound he hadn't heard in a very, very long time. In fact, he barely recognized it. But finally, he realized it was a good sound. He allowed himself a small smile. Eventually, he finished the job, using a rubber band wrapped around the end of the comb to tie off the end of the braid. "Okay?"

"Very." Except now his hands were no longer weaving through her hair. She leaned back against him. "So are you staying?"

He wondered if the hopeful tone of voice was his imagination. Then he looked down at her face, looking up at his. With a very hopeful expression. "Yeah. Angel asked me to."

The hopeful look faded. "Oh." She moved away. "Well, if I'm keeping you from anything, please don't feel obligated to watch over me." Her tone held no anger. Just disappointment.

"Do you *want* me to stay?" He wasn't sure how serious she had been earlier. It could have been a test. "I mean, do you want *me* or just someone to hold you until morning? Because it's not fair to you to want one thing but get the other."

She tried to figure out how to phrase her response. "I want... Someone loyal to a fault when it comes to his friends. Someone I can tell all of my secrets to without fear that they might slip out in a moment of anger and who understands how hard it is for me to practice the same restraint. Someone who doesn't care whether I have money or hang out with the right crowd." She paused. "And in case you weren't following along, yeah, that means you."

He was finding it hard to breathe. Finally, he managed to squeeze out, "So is this what you didn't want to say out loud?"

At first, she didn't answer. Then she turned to him and grasped his hands, pulling them around her waist. Finally, she lowered their torsos to the bed, pillowing her head on his chest, directly over his heart. "Yeah. It is."

They spent the first hour in bed together holding each other as they cried. First out of sadness that it had taken them this long to forgive each other as well as themselves. Then out of relief that they had finally had the confrontation and moved on to the reconciliation. Finally, the tears dried up. And then, despite the heat of the room and their bodies wrapped together, for the first time either could recall, both slept soundly until morning.

~~~ the end ~~~

back