Disclaimer:I don't own any of the BtVS characters. They belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and Fox. If I did own them, I'd treat them much better than the evil Joss man. But, oh well. I'm just having fun. So don't sue me.
Notes:This fic is yet another attempt to make stuff right in the Buffy universe. Hope I did okay. From the feedback I've gotten, I get the impression that this fic is awesome. But give me your own opinion. Mail me!

Man; let me tell you, it was a bitch being dead. You know how you imagine golden gates and a heavenly paradise in Heaven?

Forget that daydream.

Instead, I got stuck admitting dead people into Heaven. It was unbelievably boring.

But that was during the day. At night, I could do whatever I wanted.

Usually I visited her.

My Princess. She was so serene asleep. I missed Cordelia so much. I never even got to go out on a date with her cuz I had to save my pals.

I sighed heavily.

I told you it sucked being dead.

I'd give anything to kiss Cordelia again . . .

I moaned and thrashed in my sleep. He was there again, watching me. Telling me . . . what? I didn't understand him. It seemed like he was just there because he wanted to be near me. "Doyle!" I cried aloud. "Come back! Please come back!"

I woke myself up with my shout.

I looked around wildly, searching for him. I knew he was there.

But there was no one.

I sobbed loudly.

"Doyle?" I repeated softly. "Doyle?"

There was no response to my despondent plea.

I sat up, and brushed my tangled hair out of my face. Dennis politely turned on the light for me.

"Thanks, Dennis." I muttered softly. "You know me too well."

I knew that after this latest visit from Doyle, I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. None of the others had made me go back to sleep. After each dream, I was keyed up and full of energy. I went to the living room, and sat gazing at the phone longingly. I checked the time. It was 2 o'clock. Early for Angel. He'd probably be wrapping up things with that icky demon I'd helped him slay.

I took a deep breath and hesitantly dialed his number. This was the fourth time this had happened since Doyle's death, and it'd been a week. In a way I was glad for the dreams. They were the only link I had to Doyle besides the visions. That was how Angel had known where to go to kill the demon.

Yes, those blasted visions!

I guess Doyle had given them to me when he'd kissed me. That hurt. I thought our kiss meant something, not an excuse to pass me his curse! But I digressed. I was glad for the visions for the same reason I was glad for the dreams. They brought me closer to Doyle.

I tumbled out of my thoughts and back into the land of the living when Angel picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Angel." I said softly. "It's me."

"Cordelia?" he asked, surprised. "Are you okay?"

"I . . . I-" I broke off, having an abrupt change of heart. Angel didn't need or want to hear about my problems. "I'm fine. It's nothing."

"Are you sure? Did you have a bad dream?"

I chuckled grimly at his choice of words. "Bad dream," I echoed softly. "You might say that."

He quickly caught onto my change of tone and said hesitantly, "Was it-" He paused. Then, finally: "Doyle?"

I sucked in my breath sharply. "What? How did you- I've never-"

It was his turn to chuckle. "It wasn't that hard. You watch that commercial everyday. I can hear you trying not to cry all the time . . . It wasn't that hard." He sobered, and said, "Cordelia, you've got to stop this. You don't eat. When you sleep, you're flooded with delusions, it's not-"

"Healthy?" I interjected angrily. "Delusions?! These aren't delusions, Angel. They're visits. He comes to me in my dreams."

"Cordelia, that's not possible. He's-"

"NO!" I barked sharply, starting to cry. "Don't ever say that! He's not dead! He's not! He's not!"

"Shh." he soothed. "I'm sorry. It's okay. Why don't you come over and we can talk about this?"

"NO!" I yelled, on the verge of hysterics. "If I go over there, you'll take my hand and try to calm me down, and convince me that I'm crazy! I'm not crazy, Angel! What's happening to me isn't a nervous breakdown! Doyle's not alive on this world, but maybe he's in Heaven! He misses me! The only way he can see me is in my dreams!" I stopped shouting, and sat still, breathing hard. "He wants to live again, Angel." I moaned. "He didn't want to die." My sobs forced me to stop talking. For several minutes I sobbed into the phone quietly, trembling violently. "He didn't." I repeated before hanging up the phone.

The eerie silence seeped into the room like a mournful ghost. Even Dennis was spooked and left the room, leaving me alone with my pain.

I hung up the phone, sighing heavily. It was worse than I thought. Now she was imagining that Doyle was talking to her in her dreams. I ran a hand through my hair in mild frustration. What could I do? She was really losing it. I had to do something. My eye lighted on the broken clock I'd saved since Buffy's visit to LA. It was the only thing I had that could remind me of that day. I know, I know, I loved to torture myself with those memories. When I was by myself, I would draw up those memories in blissful agony. But she couldn't remember. She never would. That day had never happened.

I had to see the Oracles.

If I couldn't be happy, at least one person in my life deserved to be.

I searched the room, and finally found an object that I could give the Oracles. My heart tore at the thought of parting with it, but what else could I do? It was my most prized possession. Besides, I had my memories. I grabbed the item, and my leather jacket, and headed to the post office.

Damnitt! I knew I'd pushed too hard! Now I was driving her crazy! Damn it all to fucking hell!! I took a deep breath, and tried to calm down. What use was there in cussing out the air? I was just trying to stall my meeting with the Powers That Be.

I braced myself and opened the golden gates that led to the PTB.

An enormous entity sat in a regal throne. It used its eyes to stare down at me menacingly.

"Alan Francis Doyle." it stated. At first I thought it was asking me, and opened my mouth to reply, then shut it abruptly. This was God we were talking about. He knew who everyone was. I chose instead to stand silently.

"You have violated the code." it said sternly. "You are not supposed to interfere with the mortals. You're dead, Doyle. You're supposed to stay that way."

"I'm sorry." I said nervously. "I just-"

"You love a human girl named Cordelia Chase. I know this. You miss her deeply. You didn't want to die. I know this as well. But what is done cannot be undone. You shall stay dead and serve me for all eternity. You will not visit this young woman in her dreams again. Do I make myself clear?" He glared at me, daring me to protest.

I took the bait, being the foolhardy Irishman I was. "No." I said boldly. "What if I don't want to serve you forever?"

I'd surprised the old geezer. "You do not wish to serve me? It is an honor and privilege to serve me. You should be grateful."

"I'm not." I said angrily. "You're right. I don't want to be dead. I want to go back to Earth. Please make me live again. I know you can do that."

He shook what passed for his head slowly. "What is done-"

"Cannot be undone!" I broke in, exasperated. "I know! You keep saying that! But why can't you-"

"I tire of your chatter. Dismissed."

And just like that, I wasn't in the throne room anymore.

I punched the air angrily in frustration. "There has to be some way I can live again." I said softly. "There just *has* to be."

"What do you mean you won't accept it?" I shouted hotly, trying to thrust the Claddagh towards the female Oracle, but unable to do so.

"We can't accept this offering because it is too great a sacrifice for you, Warrior." The male said mildly.

The female overrode him with, "Bring us something you can bear to live without. Then we will hear your plea."

Suddenly I was back at the gateway. I clutched the Claddagh ring tightly. I was glad they hadn't wanted the ring. The Oracles were right. I didn't want to give it up. It was one of the few things I had that reminded me of Buffy.

I shook my head quickly, trying to rid my thoughts of her. It wasn't working. I shivered, and gently slipped the silver wedding band onto my ring finger, whispering, "Always, darling. I will always belong to you. Whether you want me to or not." I kissed it tenderly, sealing my promise. Shaking off my the eerie discomfort I'd felt when I'd kissed the ring, I left the tunnel and went to an antique dealership to find something sufficient to give the Oracles.

I jerked out of sleep instantly, not knowing what had awoken me. I stared into the darkness in confusion, still half asleep, thinking of nothing but him. "Angel?" I whispered softly, my voice that of a young child's. "Angel?"

I sighed in heavy disappointment and tried to go back to sleep. But I wondered what had come over me. Why, months after our separation, did I think of him now? I liked Riley. I didn't love him, but in time I thought I could. I was moving on with my life. I needed to stop pining away over Angel. We were over. He didn't want me in his life.

Oh, why didn't I believe that?!

I moaned in frustration, and threw the covers off angrily. I got up and got dressed. I was going to Giles' to borrow his car. That's right.

I was going to LA.

I stared at the cloud's patterns in dreamy fascination. Every so often the clouds would open and show me the world below. I had an idea that if I leaped through the clouds at exactly the right time, then I'd escape back into the land of the living. It opened. There was my chance. I took a deep not needed breath, and jumped. I had the strangest sensation of dissolving. I shouted in fear and anticipation of what was to come, then my world went black.

"Very well. We will grant your request. You are sure this is not a matter of love?"

I nodded. "Yes."

"Good. You know that love does not concern us?"

"Yes." I thought I saw a glint of amusement deep in her eyes, but I wasn't sure.

"Very well." she repeated.

The male and female simultaneously closed their eyes. A second later they stared at me in confusion.

"We can't find him." the male said.

"What do you mean you can't find him?"

"The being Alan Francis Doyle is no longer in Heaven. He's gone between." the male replied calmly.

"Between?" I asked.

"Between this world and the next. He's coming. We should make a body for him." The female looked to the male for agreement.

"Yes, we should."

Out of nowhere, Doyle's body appeared suspended in the air, fully clothed. I stared at it in shock and amazement.

"Is he-" I managed to say.

"He's coming." she repeated gently. "This is only the vessel for his soul."

The male looked at me, one eyebrow raised. "Speaking of souls, yours is now owned by the Slayer. The curse has been abolished."

"Buffy?" I gasped. "How?"

"When you kissed your ring, and spoke the words, 'I'll always belong to you.', your soul became the property of the Slayer." He put out a hand to stop my questions. "Because of the strong magic coming from the Gateway."

"Oh." I said feebly. It seemed too good to be true. My soul permanent, Doyle coming back to life.

Of course it couldn't last.

"The Slayer." the male said suddenly.

The female looked at the male in confusion. "The Slayer?"

He nodded. "The Slayer."

"We should give her back her memories." she murmured.

"What?" I asked urgently. "Is Buffy okay?"

"She's dying, Warrior. I'm sorry." he said solemnly.

"What?!" I shrieked. "She's *dying*?!" I shook my head quickly, trying to deny that fact. "What?!! No! How? Why?"

"Calm down, Warrior. We said she is dying, not already dead. But, Warrior," she paused ominously. "When the Slayer dies, you die."

"Where is she?" I asked quickly.

"Didn't you hear what I said? She's-"

"Where. Is. She." I repeated slowly, my voice dropping to a deadly growl.

"At St. Peter's Hospital. 10 miles from here. She was in a car accident. She-"

Before she could finish, a yellow light went into Doyle's "vessel" and he twitched and started coughing. He fell to the floor, breathing heavily.

I ran to him mechanically, my mind full of images of Buffy alone and bleeding.

"Doyle." I muttered softly.

Doyle coughed and looked up at me. "Angel, man, ya okay?" he asked anxiously. "I heard every word on the way down here."

For some odd reason I nodded, saying, "Yeah. Go to Cordelia. I have to go to her."

He nodded. "Good luck."

I slapped him lightly on the shoulder, but there was no time for a reunion. I had to go to Buffy.

I stood at her door with bated breath, waiting for her to answer my knock. She was taking so long . . . maybe she was asleep.

Finally, I heard a soft, "Who is it?" She sounded so drained of energy. My heart went out to her.

I cleared my throat, and said gruffly, "Ma'am, this the uh, um Electric Company. We've come to make a routine checkup."

"Routine checkup?" she asked, with a touch of her old spirit. "At 3AM?"

"Yes, ma'am." I replied, wanting to surprise her. "It's my last stop, then I go home."

A loud sigh could be heard from the other side of the door. "Be right there."

She unlocked the door, and opened it. At first she didn't look straight at me. "Now what's this all-"

Then she looked up.

Her eyes opened so wide.

"Doyle? Is it really you?"

She blinked.

The tears fell.

"Cordelia." I said, making her name a gentle caress that flowed out of my mouth. "It's really me."

She collapsed into my arms then, a sobbing, tearful, happy young woman that I wanted to keep safe for the rest of my life.

"Cordelia," I murmured softly into her oh so soft hair. "It's okay. I'm here now. I'm here and I love you."

She pulled away at that, her eyes still wet with tears. "What did you say?" Cordelia whispered hopefully.

I whispered also, afraid to break this spell. "I said that I- I um, well I love you."

She smiled and kissed me. I kissed her fiercely, relishing the taste of her all over again.

We pulled apart reluctantly, and for the first time I was aware that I was still standing outside her doorway.

"Can I come in?"

"Yeah." she grinned. "Stay forever." she declared passionately.

We walked to her couch and sat down. She stared into my eyes in confusion. "I can't believe you're actually alive." she finally said. "How?"

"Angel." I said solemnly.

"Angel?"

"He went to the Oracles to beg for my life." I chuckled. "I don't know how he did it. Usually when someone asks for a life, they expect a life in return. But not this. . ." I trailed off, thinking of Buffy in a coma. "The Slayer!" I exclaimed.

"Doyle? What is it?" she asked, giving me a strange expression.

"A life for a life! The Oracles are going to kill Buffy, so I can live!"

"What?! Buffy's hurt?!" she asked in her classic clueless way.

"Buffy's *dying! We have to go to that hospital and try to keep it from happening!"

I leaped off the couch and made for the door. Cordy grabbed my wrist before I could escape. Her words chilled me to the bone.

"Doyle, if Buffy lives, what happens to you?"

"I- I um, I guess I'll go back."

"No! You can't!" She started to cry. I quickly pulled her to her feet, and wrapped her in a hug. "How am I supposed to go on with my life if you're not here?"

"You can do it. You've done it before."

"It's not the same! Take a good hard look at me, Doyle! Tell me what you see."

I examined her closely.

And nearly fainted at what I saw.

I compared what I saw now to what I'd seen when I'd first knocked on her door. The lack of energy, the baggy eyes, and she wasn't wearing makeup. When she'd opened the door, I'd caught a glimpse of such a despondent sadness that I'd felt my heart break.

"Cordy?" I asked in shock. "Why?" I stroked her cheek tenderly, taking her tears away, but more came.

She avoided looking at me, instead focusing on her hands. I followed her gaze and got another surprise.

Both her wrists had horizontal cuts on them, from end to end. They were healing, but barely. They looked to be less than a week old.

Suicide.

She'd tried to kill herself.

Over me.

I looked back up at her quickly, tears in my own eyes. "Princess. . ." I moaned. "Why? Why did you do this to yourself?"

She stopped staring at her wrists, and met my gaze. We were close enough to kiss. "Because I love you." came her soft reply.

With my eyes I pleaded with her to continue.

"Doyle, when you died, I couldn't live with myself. I felt as though somehow it was my fault that you'd died. So, after I was finished crying into Angel's arms, we went back to the agency and watched the commercial with you in it. I told Angel that I was fine, and I went home, taking the commercial with me. I did this that night." she paused, holding out her wrists. "Doyle, I only knew I loved you after you were gone. And you know, I'm scared now. I'm scared that you'll leave me again, and I'll be alone. I don't want that to happen."

"No, honey." I whispered gently. "I'm not going anywhere."

Her eyes brimmed over with tears, and she started crying again. I hugged her tightly, stroking her hair.

"Cordelia," I whispered. "I'm not going anywhere."

"But you are!" she moaned. "You are! If Buffy dies, that's the only way you'll stay with me."

She looked up into my eyes. "And if you live, Buffy's gonna die." she continued sadly. "It's not fair."

"Don't worry, it won't-"

*Foolish mortals!* a loud female voice interrupted us. *Do you actually think we'd kill the Slayer in exchange for your puny existence, Alan Francis Doyle?! Are you mad?! The Slayer is one of our most powerful Warriors! She and Angel together are powerful! Alone they are weak! She must live. If she lives, you will bear witness to the birth of the most powerful fighting force imaginable. If not . . . If not, you will see an Angel fall, perhaps forever.*

She continued relentlessly, making me sheepishly grin at Cordy. You are a rude pathetic excuse for an angel, and the Powers That Be let you escape!

"What?" I asked indignantly. "They let me escape?"

With an abruptness that was startling, the voice was gone. Cordelia blinked and grinned at me. "Come on, Doyle. Buffy's gonna be fine. Angel will save her. Let's forget all this."

She grabbed my shirt collar, and pulled me to the bedroom. And for a long time, no more words were spoken between us as we lost ourselves in each other for the first, and certainly not the last, time.

"Buffy Summers." I said, with a patience I certainly didn't feel, for the second time.

"She's located in E. R." the guy said also for the second time. "But you can't see her right now. She's having extensive surgery."

"I know!" I exploded, finally losing my temper. The man jumped. "But," I said through gritted teeth, "Is there someplace I can wait?"

He seemed to be in a trance. "S-sir," he stuttered nervously, "Y-your face. . ."

I belatedly realized that my burst of anger must have made my vamp. face come on. I silently willed it to go away, and muttered sternly, "That's right. My face. You'll be seeing a lot more of that face, and some fangs too if you don't take me to a fucking waiting room or the room where Buffy's going to be right now!"

He nodded rapidly. "You're a . . ." he trailed off, unable to finish.

"Vampire. Name's Angel." I said gruffly. "Take me to her."

"You won't bite me?"

"No!" I yelled. "Just take me to her!"

"Yes, please come this way."

He led me to the room where Buffy was lying. To say she looked horrible would have been an unbelievable understatement.

Now it was my turn to be in a trance.

"Buffy." I gasped, almost crying. "Buffy."

"Yell if she wakes up, or if there's any change. She's in a coma. The doctors don't think she'll last the day."

"I understand." I muttered softly, pushing past him. "Leave me with her."

The man nodded silently, and reluctantly left me. He probably thought I was going to rip her throat out. The very idea was laughable.

I crossed the five feet needed to reach her bedside, making to sure to close all the blinds in case I was there for a few hours. I took her hand in my own, and sat down.

"Buffy," I whispered softly. "Please wake up, beloved. Please. I need you." I sobbed suddenly, putting my other hand to my mouth. "I love you."

There was no response to my desperate, heart-wrenching plea.

I grew angry at showing weaknesses, and got mad at her instead. "Damnitt, Buffy!" I yelled tearfully. "How can you do this to me? I love you! I've loved you my whole life! Even before I met you, I knew that I needed to love someone. You're my best friend! You are the closest thing I've ever had to something normal! You-" I stopped abruptly as I realized that she'd said something similar to me long ago. *You are the one freaky thing in my freaky world that makes sense to me.*

"Buffy," I said, trying to calm down. "You know how much I love you. And it kills me to say this."

I paused, hoping she'd take the bait.

She did.

She opened her eyes, staring up at me weakly, her eyes feverish and delusional.

Which was exactly what I wanted.

"Then don't. Who are you to decide what's right for me? You think I haven't thought about this?" came her reply, weak, without energy, but she was most definitely alive.

I wanted to hug her with all my strength and rejoice at her reawakening, but I didn't.

Maybe couldn't is a better word.

At least not yet.

"Have you? Rationally?" I asked.

Her voice became stronger with each word. "No, of course not! I'm just some silly little schoolgirl, right?"

"I'm trying to do what's right here. I'm trying to think with my head instead of my heart."

"Heart?" she muttered bitterly. "You have a heart? It isn't even beating."

"Don't."

"Don't what? Don't love you? I'm sorry. You know what? I didn't know that I got a choice in that. I'm never gonna change. I can't change. I want my life to be with you."

I paused before replying, wanting to say this correctly to snap her out of her delirium.

"I do want to be with you, Buffy. Always and forever."

She stared up at me in confusion, but not *really* seeing me. "That's not what he said. He said, 'I don't.' Then he broke up with me. He hurt me deeply. So you can't be him."

My heart went out to her. "He's me. And I love you. I lied before."

She blinked, and something in my voice must have made her snap out of it, because she stared at me clearly, finally aware of her surroundings.

"Angel?" she asked forlornly. "Is it really you?"

"Yeah, honey," I said tenderly. "It's really me."

She grinned at me. "I thought you were a dream."

"No. I'm real."

Buffy twisted her head and tried to look around, but she moaned tearfully at trying to do so. She sighed, and asked me, "Where am I?"

"You're in a hospital. You were in a car accident. Buffy, why were you driving so fast?"

"I . . . wanted . . . to . . . see . . . you." Buffy managed weakly, pausing between each word.

"Why?" I asked softly, not wanting to push her.

"Because I-" she gasped suddenly, and muttered pitifully, "S-something's wrong."

"Buffy?" I asked, growing concerned. "What is it?"

Beads of sweat broke out on her face. "I don't know." she managed to say. She stared up at me frightfully. "Angel, I-"

She passed out.

For the first time in my long life, I truly became afraid.

"Buffy?"

There was no response.

And on her health monitor . . .

It began to beep.

She was dead.

I was lost in a turbulent sea.

And, when you're the middle of fucking nowhere, and it's pitch black, that's pretty bad.

Thankfully, I found an anchor.

And it was in the form of an Angel.

But the sea was rough. It wanted me dead.

I wouldn't let it take me. I needed to live. For Angel. And for myself.

Plus, I hadn't driven to LA and gotten put in a coma, for nothing.

I was gonna live. I *had* to live.

"No, damnitt!" I yelled over the forceful winds and passionate seas. "I can't die! I just can't! Angel wouldn't be able to stand it!"

My words fell on deaf ears.

This was one fight I was going to lose.

"No," I sobbed. "I can't! I can't! I have to come back to go Angel! Have to. . ." I trailed off, losing my grip on the piece of driftwood. As I slipped into the water, the sea claiming my body, the last thing I saw was a hand reaching out to rescue me. But I must have imagined it.

Or did I?

"Oh, my god!" I howled in anguish. I looked at the doctor in terror, who was frantically working with his team to restart her heart. "She can't be dead! She can't be!"

"Sir!" the doctor snapped. "Would you please shut up and let us work! If you want her to live, you must control yourself!"

I nodded meekly, and backed away against the wall. I slumped to the ground, my knees giving out. "Buffy," I sobbed. "Buffy."

I put my head in my hands, and sobbed brokenly. She was dead. I knew they wouldn't be able to revive her.

So it came as no surprise when the doctor tapped me on the shoulder gently. I looked up at him in agony, my eyes crazed. I stared at him for a long time.

"Is she dead?" I asked finally, my voice displaying no emotion.

He nodded. "I'm sorry, sir. There's nothing we could do. If there's anything I can do . . ."

Numbly, I shook my head. I stood up and moved past him silently. He made no move to stop me.

She lay on the hospital bed, a sleeping beauty. But this was one princess who would never wake up.

I didn't want to accept it. I couldn't. She wasn't dead. She wasn't.

I suppose I was in shock. For the longest time I just stared at her. Then, finally, something inside me snapped.

"No!" I yelled loudly, trying to deny it. "You can't be dead! You can't be!"

I stumbled to her bed, falling to my knees.

"I need you, Buffy." I mumbled into her chest. "Please come back. Please, I need you."

In the midst of my despair, I grew angry. I punched her weakly, unable to think or move besides that one horrible thought running through my head over and over: *She's dead. She's dead. You killed her because you didn't do everything in your power to save her. This is all your fault.*

These tears that streamed down my face wouldn't stop. My pain was a never-ending tunnel of helplessness and hopelessness.

"Why aren't you here?" I shouted. "Don't you die on me, Buffy! You can't die! I won't let you!"

I gently stroked her hair, my tears falling onto her soft locks. I took her hand and kissed it. Clasping her hand tightly, I wept for what I had lost. Then, just I was about to die inside, she made a small sound.

I felt a hand on top of my head, stroking my hair gently.

I looked up, and saw her.

She was alive.

"Buffy?" I asked in surprise. "You-you're alive! You're actually alive!"

I couldn't take it anymore, and fell forward, wrapping her in a tight hug. "You're alive." I sobbed over and over. "You're actually alive."

I couldn't stop crying. And I hated myself for showing her that part of me.

But I couldn't stop it. I kept crying and crying, just grateful that she was breathing.

"It's okay." she murmured. "I love you, Angel. I'm not gonna die on you. I love you too much. And," this she whispered with her voice of honey, but the words threw me deeply. "I'll never forget."

I fell out of my chair. Clinging to her bed and pulling myself up, I gasped in shock and amazement, "Buffy? You remember? But how?" Even as I said those words, my mind flashed back to what the Oracles had said: We'd better return her memories to her. I drew in my breath sharply. Maybe she truly . . . but no, that's couldn't be possible. the more rational part of my brain exclaimed. I must have misheard the Oracles. That day has been swallowed. It never happened.

But, somewhere, in the midst of all my sensible arguments, I felt a long dead hope spark up inside me. Maybe she did remember . . . Please, God, let her remember. I'm not strong enough to carry the burden alone, not when I could just reach out and touch her. Please let me be happy . . . I prayed silently.

Because of my mental debate, I'd missed what Buffy had said. I asked her to repeat herself.

"I said, 'Yes, Angel. I remember you.' When I woke up, I had the memories." She grinned at me. "I don't know how."

"I do." I broke in quickly. "The Oracles. They thought you were going to die. So they gave you back your memories." I trailed off painfully, remembering how I'd screamed at her to live. "I thought you were going to die." I mumbled tearfully to myself, thinking Buffy wouldn't hear me. I looked down at my feet, fighting the urge to start crying all over again. I'd been so afraid she was going to die . . .

But she heard. Of course she heard.

When I looked back up her eyes were filled with tears.

She cupped my face in her hands, penetrating my invisible barrier with her loving gaze.

"Angel," she whispered. "Don't worry. I won't die on you. I'm right here. And I'm alive."

At her words I finally dropped the facade.

I fell into her arms, sobbing openly. She hugged my head to her lap, stroking my hair, muttering sweet nothings in my ear. I couldn't take it anymore. I'd come so close to losing her before, and now, faced with her living, breathing body, I lost control.

And, with our tears mixing together, we healed each other.

She tossed and turned fitfully in her sleep, crying out softly.

*I did this to you, didn't I, 'Delia?* I thought guiltily. *If I hadn't gone and killed myself for the greater good, you wouldn't be having this nightmare now. *

"Wake up, honey." I murmured as I caressed her hair. "It's only a dream."

She moaned and shouted, "No! Doyle, please! Come back to me! Please, Doyle!" at the top of her lungs.

That was enough. She'd already been pushed too far.

"Cordelia!" I yelled firmly, rolling on top of her and gripping her shoulders tightly. "It's a dream, darlin'! It's just a dream!"

She opened her eyes and stared at me in confusion for a long time. Wetting her lips, she asked softly, "Doyle?"

"Yeah." I said. "It's me. What did you-"

She turned her head to the side and sobbed into the pillow. I lay beside her, hugging her close, just letting her cry.

When she finally calmed down enough to talk, she said, "It was horrible, Doyle. I couldn't find you. I kept on searching and searching, but I could never find you. I could never find you."

"Cordelia," I said gently. "I'm so sorry."

"For what?"

"For everyday that I haven't been here. For everyday I've left you alone."

She sighed, and snuggled closer to me, her head fitting comfortably in the nape of my neck. "It's okay." she mumbled, her voice muffled. "It's not your fault. I've left myself-" she broke off sharply, clutching her head in pain.

"Cordy?" I asked, worried. "What is it?" I instantly recognized her twitching and asked quickly, "What do you see?"

"Faith," she managed to once it was over, rubbing her head tenderly.

"Faith?" I asked, uncomprehending.

She smiled without humor and said matter-of-factly, "The meanest, most badass Vampire Slayer Sunnydale's ever seen," She paused dramatically. "Is awake."

The young woman's hand twitched. Oh so slowly did her hand lift off the bed and rip the IV out of her arm.

She sat up.

Then, only then, did she open her eyes and look around. She smiled.

The bitch was back.

But in what form?

I was in the middle of reintroducing Angel to the wonderful world of my kisses when someone knocked timidly on the door.

"Come in." I said crankily.

A man entered nervously, eyeing Angel with contempt and fear.

I looked back and forth between the two men, amused. Apparently they knew each other.

"Ms. Summers?" the guy stuttered.

"Yes, that's me." I answered.

"There's a phone call for you and someone named Angel at the front office. Should I put them through?"

"Sure." I said nonchalantly. "Who is it?"

"A Cordelia Chase and Doyle." he replied. "They say it's urgent."

I looked at Angel curiously. He shrugged and mouthed "I don't know." to me.

I glanced back at the man standing by the doorway, growing more concerned by the second. Somehow I managed to say calmly, "Yeah. Put them on."

He nodded and left quickly.

A moment later the phone rang.

"Hello?" I asked.

"Buffy!" Cordelia said breathlessly. "Thank God! We've got a problem!"

"Slow down, Cordy." I said, trying to calm her down. "What is it?"

"Starts with an F ends with an H."

A chill ran through my blood at her sardonic words. "Faith." I whispered tightly.

"You win the prize! She's awake!"

"Thanks. Cordy, gather some weapons and get down here. Bring me a spare change of clothes. We're going to Sunnydale."

"What about you? You just got of a coma. Aren't you still weak?"

"I'll take care of that."

"Sure thing." she agreed reluctantly. "We can be there in an hour."

"Get here sooner than that." I said firmly. I hung up the phone, and tore the IV out of my arm.

"What are you doing?" Angel asked quickly.

"Faith's back." I muttered, not looking up.

"So you're just going to have a showdown with her? Buffy, you just got out of a coma. You're not-"

"So did she."

"She what?"

"She just got out of a coma. She's not as strong as she used to be."

"And what makes you think you are? You were just in a car accident that nearly cost you your life. She's perfectly fit if you disregard the fact that she's been in a coma." "I'm stronger than her." I said solemnly, still concentrating on tearing the wires out of my arms. I finished, and looked up into his eyes for the first time. I knew my gaze must have been steel, but he didn't flinch. "And you know it." I said dangerously.

"What makes you so sure?" he persisted.

I sighed, exasperated, and said angrily, "You want proof?! Fine, I'll give you proof."

I got out of the bed, ignoring his cry of protest and attempt to stop me. I ignored the wave of dizziness that came over me, and, with a mighty warrior cry, I whipped around and punched a hole in the wall. When I pulled my hand out, the plaster stuck on my arm up to my elbow.

Angel stared at me in amazement and horror. I grinned at him, knowing I must have resembled a young lioness closing in on her prey.

"I'm strong enough." I repeated, walking out of the room, straight and tall. He followed, coming to stand behind me.

"I promised you I wouldn't die on you again, Angel. I always keep my promises."

"No, you don't."

I turned around slowly, staring at him. "What?"

"You promised me you'd never forget. But you did."

At first I had nothing to say to that.

I finally came up with, "But I remembered, didn't I?"

I didn't wait for a reply, and strode out of the hospital room, trying not to faint.

I know that he must have seen how I was barely able to stand, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he answered my previously unanswered question with a cynical, "Yeah, you did, but only after you nearly died."

"Come on, we gotta go." I said quickly, grabbing his arm and pulled on it. "Buffy needs our help."

"Yeah, I gotta agree with you there." Doyle replied. "Da Slayer, she's pretty weak now."

"She doesn't want to admit it, but she's about to pass out." I said without thinking.

Doyle stared at me in surprise. "How do you know that?"

I shook my head, dismissing it. "I don't know." I said, shrugging. "It just popped out. We got all the stuff, right? Let's go."

But he wouldn't let my sudden connection with Buffy go. "Hit me, 'Delia."

"What?" I asked, taken aback. "Why?"

"It's just a hunch I have. Punch me."

"I don't know how to punch!" I protested, a sneaking suspicion of what was going on surfacing in my brain. I quickly tried to squelch it. "What are you trying to do?"

"Just punch me."

I shrugged, and did what he asked. I punched him lightly, I swear I punched him lightly, but somehow he ended up on the floor.

"Cordelia," he gasped, rubbing his slightly bleeding nose. "You're the-"

I turned away and hefted a battle-axe expertly, though I'd never held one in my entire life. "The Slayer." I finished for him. "I'm the new Vampire Slayer."

I got dressed, and climbed out the window. I clutched my head in despair. All these weird images went through my head. I couldn't make sense of any of them.

It was only as I landed outside in front of the hospital that I realized I didn't know my name.

Or my age.

Or anything about my past.

"What happened to me?" I muttered aloud. I stopped quickly. I didn't recognize my voice.

"Your boy can't have me, though, B." I whispered viciously. I shook my head in despair. Who was B?

As soon as I said that, I recalled someone blond and beautiful who could fight extremely well. "B." I said to myself. "Buffy."

I looked around, and spotted a mansion in the distance. I walked resolutely towards it. Maybe it could give me clues to my identity.

I walked closely behind her, in case she fell over. To anyone who asked what Buffy was doing walking around in her hospital gown looking like she just came from Hell, I'd vamped out on them.

There were no more questions.

But when we reached the exit, she fainted on me.

"Buffy, I told you weren't strong enough." I chided gently, gathering her unconscious form into my arms. Luckily I didn't have to wait long. Doyle and Cordelia pulled up within 15 minutes.

"This is just great." I muttered sarcastically, carefully getting into the back seat, Buffy's head lolling gently back and forth as I moved. "How's she gonna face Faith if she's injured?"

"Don't worry about it, Angel." Doyle said cheerfully, glancing at Cordy for an instant then going back to his driving. "We've got it covered."

"What?" I asked incredulously. "Then enlighten me, Doyle. Tell me how it's covered! 'Cause let me tell you all I can see right now is Buffy getting her ass kicked by a vengeful psycho. Not a pretty picture."

"Man, calm down. There's Cordy."

"Cordy?" I asked in disbelief. "No offense Cordelia but how in the hell are you gonna stop Buffy's ass from getting kicked?"

"Relax, Angel." she said nonchalantly. "Even if I can't help out, you and Doyle can fight."

"But how?!" I interjected impatiently. "How do you think you can even remotely hurt a fly, let alone kick Faith's ass? Will someone please tell me what the fuck is going on?!"

She didn't answer. Instead, Doyle asked bluntly, "Your Slayer. She died in dat hospital, didn't she?"

I bristled immediately at the painful memory his words invoked in me. "Yeah." I said softly. "Yeah, she did. But what does that have to do with-"

"The new Slayer was activated when Buffy died, is that how it goes?"

"Yes. Why?"

"So," he continued, ignoring my question. "This girl who was activated wouldn't show any new strengths till the instant the previous Slayer died, right?"

"Right." I said slowly, still not getting it. "So?"

"Angel," Doyle said with exaggerated patience, "The new Slayer is-"

"Me!" Cordy interjected angrily, tired of the games. "I'm the new Slayer."

I chuckled, for lack of anything better to do, coming up with an extremely intelligent, "I'm sorry. What?"

She turned to stare at me, a deadly glint hidden in her eyes.

"Want me to prove it to you?"

I glanced at her sardonically. "Sure."

"Doyle, pull the car over."

He obeyed, and Cordy hopped out, saying, "Come on, Angel. We gotta hurry. The sun's almost up." Doyle got out of the car and came around to watch.

I got out, still skeptical.

That is, until she knocked me flat on my ass without even trying.

"Hey! That hurt!" I exclaimed indignantly.

"See? Now do you-"

Laughter wafted out from the car. "You're kidding right?" Buffy asked, still giggling. "I'm out for a few hours, and when I wake up, my replacement is Cordelia Chase. What a trip!"

"Hey Buffy, I'm not too happy about it either." Cordy burst in angrily. "You think I want to spend the rest of my life killing things? No thanks."

"Sorry babe, but you don't have a choice. You, for some strange reason, have been Chosen. Pardon me while I go into Giles mode for a sec. In every generation there is a Chosen One. She alone (yeah, what a joke!) will stand against the demons, the vampires, and the forces of darkness. She is the-"

"Slayer." Cordelia supplied glumly. "Great. So what do I have to do?"

Buffy was taken aback. "You actually want to do it?"

She shrugged. "It won't be any different than helping you or Angel out 'cept this time I'll be able to fight back."

Buffy chuckled again. "You really think that's all there is to it? You're in trouble, Angel's not around; you can fight for yourself; woo hoo; go on with your life?"

"Well, yeah."

"Sorry, but that's not how it works. You've known me for three and a half years, you've seen my life. Welcome to my life, Cordy."

"Holy shit!" I shouted, clutching my hand in pain. I'd been so wrapped up in their argument that I hadn't even noticed sun the coming up. I leaped into the front seat of the car, narrowly escaping bursting into flames. I looked for at Buffy sheepishly, handing her a plastic bag. "Here. Clothes."

"Thanks," she said, taking it.

I tactfully averted my gaze while she changed.

I remembered how my soul was now binded to hers. "Buffy, why did you come back to L. A.?" I asked of the blue. "You tried to tell me before, but . . ."

"I woke up at about 3 thinking of you. Something . . . I don't know something happened, and I knew I had to see you."

"3 AM." I echoed thoughtfully. That was around the time I'd kissed the ring. "Buffy, my soul, it's . . ." I trailed off awkwardly.

"Angel, what are you trying to tell me?" she asked gently.

"Two things. One where you'll probably love it and another which you'll stake me for."

She laughed, climbing up into the front seat with me. She was wearing blue jeans and a white tank top. I looked into her eyes.

"Angel, whatever it is, you can tell me. Is the world coming to an end?"

I shook my head. I blurted out in a rush, "My soul's bound to you. It's permanent. And we've been married for a year and a half and I never told you."

"What? We're married?! How is your soul bound to me?" She blinked and whispered pitifully, "Were you even gonna tell me?"

"I was going to tell you last year on your 17th birthday, but we got interrupted."

"The Claddagh?"

I nodded.

"Do you have my Claddagh, Angel?"

"You accept it, Buffy? You wanna marry me?"

"Of course I do." Then, as an afterthought, she added, "How did you know your soul was permanent?"

I explained to her about what had happened with the Claddagh. Then, grinning stupidly, I pulled her ring off the silver chain I always wore.

"Here." I rasped. "Put it on."

She smiled, saying, "It's beautiful."

Buffy slipped it onto her ring, kissing it softly, just as she had on her 17th birthday.

She pulled me to her, and we kissed joyfully.

Until Cordelia knocked on the window impatiently. "I hate to interrupt this little lovefest." Cordy said through the glass. "But don't you need to help me?"

We broke apart, and Buffy said dreamily, "Gotta go train Cordy."

"I understand." I replied, belatedly remembering the vampire thing. "I'll just wait here."

Buffy rolled one window down, careful not to let any sunlight touch me, and squeezed through it. I rolled it back up, suffering only minor burns.

"Let's see what you got." Buffy yelled in a challenging tone. "Come on, kick my ass."

I had to laugh at Cordelia's attempted bravado. She had no idea who was she was dealing with.

"Is that the best you can do?" I crowed as Cordelia doggedly punched at me. I dodged her with my hands behind my back each time, throwing insults at her left and right. She was attempting to prove to me that could kick my ass. I'd laughed in her face. and yelled, "Prove it!"

So now this was her pathetic attempt to prove it.

She stopped trying to punch me and slumped over, panting.

"Give up yet?" I asked triumphantly.

"I . . . give . . . up." she gasped, out of breath.

"All right then, let's teach you how to be a real Slayer."

The training began. I had to admit, though I wasn't at my top strength yet, and at first I was letting her think she was gonna beat me . . . But take all that away, and Cordelia definitely had potential.

Especially when she caught me off guard with a roundhouse kick that knocked me on the ground.

Cordy grinned as she helped me up, saying smugly, "Looks like I'm learning."

I had the good grace to try not to be bitchy about her improved fighting skills. I answered with a cocky, "Yeah, you're learning. Still got a long way to go, but you're learning."

"Buffy, gimme a break!" Cordy exploded. "Is it so hard to compliment me once in a while? Would it be too much to ask if you showed a little compassion?"

"She's got a point." Doyle interjected.

"Shut up!" we both yelled.

Cordelia continued without skipping a beat, "We've been doing this for hours! Praise me or something! I know you're pissed because you're getting beaten by me, but that's not my fault! The person you're really angry at is yourself! What you need to do is-"

I lost my temper, and, catching her off guard, I whipped her down to the ground, clutching her throat. "You are never going to be stronger than me, Cordelia." I growled viciously. "And let me tell you why."

I let her go, and we sat facing each other.

"You don't take this seriously. If you don't take this seriously, you are gonna die. And I really don't want to see that happen. I've seen it too often already. Now I will offer you no praise until you can show me you can take care of yourself and be serious about it.

"This is a job, Cordy. A job that you absolutely have to go to every night for the rest of your life. A life which will not last long if you're not careful. So my job, besides slaying vampires, has now become you're strong enough to stay alive. All right, let's continue."

No more complaints came from Cordelia.

God, I never knew that training could be so grueling! I felt like my whole body was on fire! And I had a vague idea why.

Buffy was training herself as well as me.

She was trying to zap herself back to full strength, and taking me along for the ride.

"B," I responded, as nonchalant as could be under the circumstances.

So, instead of getting a beginning workout for a Slayer who was just starting out, I was getting one meant for someone who'd been doing it for four years.

And, let me tell you, it was working.

I felt stronger now than I'd felt 10 minutes ago. I could imagine how Buffy must feel, coming out of a coma and all.

But she was still stronger than me.

And I knew she always would be.

Buffy leaped up into the air, and so fast that I didn't even see it, she kicked me in the throat.

I dropped like a stone.

"What the . . ." I gasped when I could breathe. "You've seen the Matrix too many times, haven't you?"

She laughed, glanced at the car where Angel was sleeping peacefully, and admitted with a small smile, "I think Keanu's hot. And that Trinity chick would make a kickass Slayer."

"Yeah, Keanu is pretty hot." I confessed with a grin, ignoring Doyle's envious glare. "He looks great in leather."

My remarks fell on deaf ears, for Buffy was too busy swaying unsteadily to concentrate on me.

"Buffy?" I asked with concern, coming over to her quickly. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she mumbled woozily. "I just feel a little . . ." She crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

I sighed and slung her over my shoulder, thinking ironically that 12 hours ago I wouldn't have been able to lift her 6 inches, let alone swing her over my shoulder.

"Why does she love to faint so much?" I asked irritably to Doyle as I carefully put her in the back seat.

I glanced at the sun, and was surprised to see that it was almost gone.

"We've been training all day?" I asked in disbelief.

"Yeah, I was starting to think you guys would be at it till dawn."

"Same here." I replied. "And we probably would have if she hadn't fainted. Angel, wake up!" I slapped Angel impatiently. I wanted to sit next to Doyle.

"She seems to be doing that a lot lately." Doyle remarked, sliding into the front seat.

Angel opened his eyes and stared at me sleepily.

"Go lay down in the back with Buffy." I ordered softly. "She's asleep again."

He stumbled out with alacrity and snuggled next to Buffy, asleep again within seconds.

"They're so cute together." I whispered meditatively, getting in the car. I glanced at Doyle adoringly. "Do you think we'll ever have that cuteness when we're asleep in each other's arms?"

He grinned, taking my hand and squeezing it gently. "We already do." he assured me.

We drove on in peaceful silence. Gradually the strain of the day caught up with me and I slumped into Doyle's lap. I fell asleep to his loving touch patting my head, stroking my hair. I was lulled to a blissful rest by Doyle's tender hand.

I was wrapped in a gentle cloud. A warm mist blew on my neck, making me remember what it felt like to be human.

I slowly resurfaced into reality, and found that the warm mist was Buffy's sweet breath gliding onto my neck, in and out, in and out. The gentle cloud was her body entangled with my own.

I couldn't help but smile.

"She fainted again?" I asked candidly to Doyle, who had Cordelia comfortably asleep in his lap.

"Cordy had to carry her inside." he replied and, from his distracted tone, I gathered that he was stroking her hair, just as I was doing to Buffy.

Speaking of Buffy, she sighed contentedly and stirred in my arms.

"Hey," she mumbled soporifically. "We there yet?"

"We've reached the outskirts." Doyle answered. "Where to?"

"Head for the screams." Buffy muttered grimly, fully alert now.

Sure enough, a shrill scream resonated from the mansion.

Doyle drove to it and parked.

Buffy stretched and climbed over Cordy, getting out of the car. I got up and followed her. I grabbed her wrist before she could enter the mansion. We stood in front of the car, staring into each other's eyes. I knew this might be our final goodbye.

That thought terrified me. It prompted me to say, "Be careful." tightly. "You'll be careful, right?"

She kissed me tenderly in response, whispering into my ear, "Don't you remember? I told you I always keep my promises."

"If there's any sign of trouble . . ." I began, but she silenced me with a touch of her finger. Buffy laughed softly.

"There won't be. I can take care of myself."

She left me then, her kiss lingering on my mouth.

I chuckled. The chuckle grew to a laugh, and that laugh grew to peals of hysterical mirth.

"What on earth could possibly be funny?" Doyle demanded.

"Oh," I muttered through titters, "Just that either way you look at it, whether or not Buffy kills Faith or not, I never laugh, or smile, or do anything fun. I'm always serious brooding guy. What's up with that?"

Cordy yawned and elongated, staring up at me. "What is his problem?"

"I think he's making a life-changing decision."

"Which is?"

Doyle shrugged, and said, "To go insane."

She snorted. "Oh, I already knew he was insane."

I fingered the pieces of the broken table thoughtfully. What had happened here?

I shrugged it off, and strode to a couch slowly.

It all came back.

I remembered what a charge it'd been to kill people with my bare hands. I remembered when things had gone bad, and I'd turned to the mayor for comfort. I'd wanted to feel accepted, and, when I was with him, I did.

It hadn't lasted long.

I'd longed to go back to the Scooby Gang, but I'd been too afraid to beg for forgiveness.

Plus, I loved to kill people.

"I don't want to do that anymore," I said quietly. "I want to be part of the gang."

Something inside me changed. Maybe it was the whole almost dying thing, but I didn't want to be evil anymore. I wanted to stake vamps with Buffy again.

I was interrupted in my thoughts when a familiar voice called out to me.

"Faith."

I turned around slowly.

Buffy.

"B," I responded. "How are you?"

"Oh, just fine," she said sarcastically. "A lot's happened since you've been asleep. I got put in a coma for one thing. So guess we're even in that department." She smiled at me with alacrity, a little too eager. A sparkle in her eye and a nervous twitching in a vein in her neck showed me that she was here for business, not social time. "You?"

I took a deep breath and prepared to do the hardest thing in my life.

Apologize.

"I don't want to fight, Buffy,"

"No?" she asked cautiously, in an odd tone.

"No, I was hoping I could go back to the team. Do you think you could accept me?" I asked sincerely.

To my immense surprise she walked over and slugged me.

I clutched my cheek in surprise. "Why did you do that?" I demanded.

"I've had bad experience with the word 'No.'" she remarked dryly. "It usually results in bloodshed."

"I'm serious, though." I protested. "I want-"

She lashed out with her foot quicker than the eye could see, and in a split second I was on the floor, sprawled on my back.

Buffy had pulled out a stake and was on top of me before I could move.

"This time," she growled. "I'll make sure you stay dead."

"No! Don't!" I gasped. "Do you remember the dream? We made peace in the dream! Remember Buffy?!"

She blinked, and the deadly light went out of her eyes.

"Yeah," she muttered softly. "I remember."

She rolled off me and sat staring into space. I sat up too.

"I shouldn't have forgotten." the blond slayer said to herself, obviously forgetting I was there. "I told him I'd never forget." She glanced at me sharply. "What made you come back to the Jedi Knights?"

"Huh?"

She chuckled. "Never mind. Star Wars reference."

"Oh. Well, it's a long story. I had amnesia for awhile. So I came here to try and get my memory back. You were the first thing I remembered."

"But why do you want to be a good Slayer again?" Buffy burst in impatiently.

"For eight months when I was in a coma, I wasn't just asleep. I was in this limbo place. It was really weird. But, while I was there, I thought a lot about my life and what I'd given up. And it all came down to this.

"I liked being part of the Scooby Gang more than I liked working for the Mayor."

She was silent for a long time, pondering my words. Then, finally: "One thing, Faith."

"Yeah?"

"Don't try and kill my boyfriend again, k?"

I grinned. "Sure, B. Anything you say."

She stood, and helped me to my feet saying, "Welcome back to the team. Let me introduce you to the new members of the Slayerettes. Oh, you'll never guess what happened."

"What?" I asked, caught up in the joy that emanated from her voice.

"I died again."

"Really? So who replaced you?"

"You will never guess."

She led me to a black convertible where I saw some old faces, some new. They welcomed me like I'd never left. I grinned again. I was finally back where I belonged.

With my family.

END.