TITLE: If I Could Wake Up
AUTHOR: Ragna (writinggoddess@aol.com)
RATING: FRT
CLASSIFICATION: Cordelia/Doyle musings
SPOILERS: All of "Angel".
DISTRIBUTION: Slay This, other sites with my fic up. Everyone else just keep my name on it and let me know.
DISCLAIMER: If you don't recognize it, chances are it's my own creation. If you do, Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Kazui Sandollar, FOX and the WB own it or them. I'm just holding Spike hostage. Carolyn's got Xander, May's got Oz, Cathryn's got Ethan, Shelly has Angel, and Gillian has Doyle. You may see them by appointment only. Each title contains a lyric from Four Star Mary's "Run."
FEEDBACK: Sorry I'm not home right now I'm walking in the spiderwebs so leave a message and I'll call you back...in other words, I want it. Don't care if it's onlist or not.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: A new series! Like I don't have enough commitments, right? Well, since a sort-of new charachter will be joining the Angel cast soon, and a lot of people aren't happy about it, I thought I'd write this fic series, more to help me get over Doyle's passing ::sob:: Hope you enjoy...

***

"Officer, it had all been on a dare. I promise!"

The cop shook his head. "Miss, I'll still have to take you down to the station." He cocked his head to the side. "Detective Jackson will probably be the one to talk to you..."

"Why?"

Both the woman and the cop turned when they heard the voice to the side. The woman's eyes widened and her jaw dropped.

"No...it can't be..."

***

When Cordelia came too, she blinked. That was the first thing she did.

She was in her apartment, and her ghostly roomate was flipping through the channels. Sitting up, she muttered, "Stop that."

"Stop what?"

She stopped, craning her neck to see him. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you, that's all."

"But you can't! It's not possible!" She shook her head, shutting her eyes.

"It is, actually." He stood up, walking to the TV and shutting it off. "I'm sorry...I should have called..."

"No, you just shouldn't be here." She stood up and looked Buffy's former Watcher in the eye. "Go away."

Wesley sighed, picking up his jacket. "Fine. I'll leave."

Cordelia watched as he walked to the door. He looked very different; gone was the suit and tie, to be replaced by jeans and a button down shirt. His hair was slightly longer, and he wasn't wearing glasses.

Before she knew what was happening, the word was out of her mouth.

"Wait."

Wesley paused at the door. "Yes?"

"How did you know I lived here?"

Wesley grinned slightly. "My new boss told me."

"Your new boss?"

"Angel."

***

Cordelia was livid. Extremely livid. Walking into the office the next morning and slamming the door after her, she yelled as loudly as possible, "ANGEL!"

"Ow!", followed by a thud, could be heard from the bathroom. Cordelia strode right into the bathroom, glancing down at Angel, who was rubbing the back of his head.

"How could you?" she asked coldly.

"What?"

"Why did you hire Wesley? Doyle's only been gone for a week, and you're already replacing him?" Fury showed in her facial features, her stance, her entire being. "Didn't he mean anything to you?"

"He meant--"

"He gave up his life for you. For all of us. And this is what happens?"

Angel stood up. "Cordelia, I--"

The slap was strong. Cordelia had lerned how to hit and punch and slap by watching Buffy. "He meant a lot to me." She glared at Angel, a look of despair and pain in her eyes. "I hate you. And I quit."

Cordelia walked out, bumping into Wesley on the way out.

"What's wrong with her?" Wesley asked Angel.

"She thinks I'm replacing Doyle with you."

"Who was Doyle?"

"He...well, let's just say he meant a lot to her. A lot more than I realized."

***

Cordelia could barely hold back her tears as she unlocked the door to Doyle's apartment. He'd written a will, after that last vision, leaving everything of value to her. She just hadn't had the strength to go get the items yet.

The ghost, hidden in the corner, watched her pick up a few of Doyle's things...clothing, things he kept close to him. The ghost had to restrain himself to keep from going towards her, to tell her things would be okay.

Much as he wanted to help her, she had to find the letter by herself.

And the ghost kept watching as she picked up his jacket, slipped it on, and glanced at the dresser. Looking back at her handwritten and tearstained copy of his will, she opened the dresser drawer to look for one of the other things he said she could have that would be there.

And the ghost smiled sadly as she picked up the long note instead.

***

"I wish I could tell you this in person."

Cordelia sat on her bed, glancing at the first line of the letter she had just opened. She'd been home, the home he'd helped her find, for over four hours. And she had been afraid to read this letter.

The tears started to form again as she realized he knew he was going to die that night. With shaking hands, she took the letter and began to read it.

"I wish I could tell you this in person. I've always been to scared. Maybe it's because you intimidated me a bit, maybe it's because I've only felt this strongly about one other person in my life. But I know I'm going to die soon, and I want you to know some things."

As she re-read the first of many pages, she could almost hear Doyle saying this to her, and she pulled the jacket closer to her, even though the room was warm.

Each page talked about something different. But right now, she couldn't bear to read more. She set the letter down, shut her eyes, and laid her head down on the pillow, slowly drifting off to sleep.

She wanted to sleep and never wake up. Never.

Because life hurt too much.

***

Doyle's ghost sat in the corner, watching her sleep. Things were going to be different; she needed to accept his death and move on.

And she needed to accept things about herself, and he was going to help.

Even if he was dead.