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Angel's Turn

December 1, 2000 12:30AM

Doyle suddenly pulled back from the kiss, leaving Cordelia breathless. . .and frustrated.

"What?" she wanted to know.

Doyle smiled. "Angel's here. He just pulled up out front."

"Already?" Cordelia pouted, reaching for him. "And things were just getting interesting."

Doyle evaded her. He was having a hard time believing that this was actually happening between them; she'd never shown much interest before his death. He chuckled. "And they'll be 'interesting' again, Princess, if I have anything to say about it. But he's here. Now! We need
to. . ."

"Let's surprise him!" Cordelia cried suddenly.

"What? Cordelia, he's not expecting this. I don't think. . ."

"Oh come on, Doyle," Cordelia broke in. "It's not like he'll drop dead of a heart attack or anything. I mean, hello, he's already, well, dead."

"Yeah, I know, that's true, but I still think. . ."

There was a knock on the door. Cordelia whirled to look from Doyle to the door and back again. "He's here!" She gave Doyle a shove toward the kitchen. "Come on, let's go. Out of sight."

"Cordelia. . ." Doyle protested, though he let himself be led. He'd sort of forgotten how headstrong she could be.

"Coming, Angel!" Cordelia called toward the front door. To Doyle she said, "It'll be okay. Really. Now, go on!" She pushed him through the doorway into the kitchen and closed the door.

"Cordelia, are you all right?" Angel's filtered voice came through the front door as Cordelia headed toward it.

"Yeah. I'm coming," Cordelia assured him. She reached the door, took a deep breath, and opened it.

Angel stood on the threshold, looking concerned. "Are you okay?" he asked again as he walked into the apartment. "Is someone here with you?" There was a desperate note to his voice when he asked the second question that definitely caught Cordelia's attention. Doyle had been right; Angel did sense something.

"Well. . .Dennis," Cordelia hedged. "Why do you ask?"

Angel's shoulders drooped in obvious defeat. He shook his head. "I don't know. It must be that tonight's. . .well, you know what tonight is."

Cordelia knew. It was the best night of their lives. He just didn't know it yet. She nodded. "What happened?"

Angel walked further into the room, sat down on the couch with what could only be called a weary sigh. He hadn't been sleeping all that well lately. "The usual. . .at first. We got there, stopped them from torching the place, then a fight ensued. And then I noticed...did you notice in your vision how much these guys looked like Richard's clan?"

"Richard? You mean Harry's fiancé?" Cordelia wanted to know. "No, they weren't demon in the vision."

"Yeah. They didn't turn on their demon faces until we started fighting. It was probably just me anyway. I've been thinking so much about Doyle lately. . ."

"I wonder why."

Angel smiled a sad smile. "Anyway, to me they looked like Richard. And so, here I am, in the middle of this fight, and I'm suddenly overwhelmed with all these feelings and memories. I mean, it's not like he's been far from my mind anyway, but this was like bam! Like being hit with a sledgehammer. I was almost dysfunctional. I know Wesley and Gunn were worried for a second." He paused. "I don't know, Cordelia, it was strange. It was like he was there; I could almost feel him standing next to me. But, of course, when I looked, there was no one there. . ."

"And that's when you said it," Cordelia murmured.

Angel looked at her sharply. "What?"

"Nothing," Cordelia said hastily. "Then what happened?"

"I became aware enough to realize that I was letting this guy pummel me. And I also realized that that was what I wanted, what I've always wanted; I wanted Doyle next to me; I wanted him fighting beside me. I wanted him back, period." He paused, closed his eyes. "I got angry, started using 'Richard' as a punching bag. And with every punch I'd say a word. . .I. . .punch. . .want. . .punch. . .Doyle. . . punch. . . back. . . punch. I want Doyle back. I want Doyle back. I was out of control. Wesley and Gunn had to pull me off the guy. I think they both thought I'd gone crazy. And maybe I did, because it happened again, Cordelia. . .I could feel him there next to me; for an instant, I could. And then the feeling was gone." He sighed, opened his eyes. "But still, there was something; I sensed something. . .something that told me I needed to get here. . .fast. The fight was over; the other demons had left after they saw what happened to their friend.  So I told Wesley and Gunn to go home, and here I am. Only to find out it was all in my mind. . .all in my mind." 

He chuckled softly, sadly, then looked up at her. She drew a breath, was shocked by what she saw in his eyes: naked, raw emotions: exhaustion, disappointment, grief, loss, guilt and pain. . .so much pain. And in that moment, Cordelia knew that Doyle had been right. . .that this was not the time for games or surprises.   

Angel looked away, sighed another weary sigh. "Some imagination, huh? It's just that I. . ."

"It wasn't your imagination, Angel," Cordelia broke in.

"What?" Angel looked up at her again, a puzzled look in his eyes. Was she saying what he thought she was?    

"It wasn't your imagination," Cordelia repeated. She held out her hand to him. "Come on, Angel. I've got something to show you." Then as he hesitated, "Come on."   

Angel hesitated again, still looking at her, uncertainty clear in his eyes. She nodded at him. "Come on, Angel."       

Angel took her hand, allowed her to pull him to his feet. She then led him to the kitchen door, took another deep breath and opened it. She gently pushed him into the doorway, then inclined her head toward the living room. "I'll be right out here if. . .you need me or. . .anything."   

"Cordelia.. . " he began.    

"It'll be okay, Angel. I promise. Just remember, it's not your imagination." Cordelia then turned and walked back into the living room.    

Angel stood on the threshold, literally afraid to turn around. Not much frightened the vampire with a soul, but he wasn't sure what he would do if he turned and didn't find what he desperately needed and wanted to find. He closed his eyes, braced himself for disappointment as he. . .

"Angel."    

Angel's eyes snapped open. What had started out as a slow, gradual rotation changed into a head spinning turn as the vampire quickly spun around toward the sound of that impossibly familiar voice. He put himself off balance as he turned, might actually have fallen had the owner of the impossible voice not grabbed his arm in a firm, but gentle, grip.      

Angel looked up into a pair of intense blue eyes set in a face that Angel had thought he would never see again. He and Doyle stared at each other for a long moment. Still not certain that this wasn't all in his mind, Angel dropped his gaze down to the hand on his arm. It looked real enough, felt real enough. Slowly, Angel raised his own hand and gingerly placed it on top of Doyle's. Incredibly, his cool flesh met warm flesh. It appeared that Cordelia was right; it wasn't his imagination. His friend was real. His friend was alive. His hand still covering Doyle's, Angel sat down heavily in the nearest chair. If his heart still beat, it would have been pounding in his chest, if his lungs still breathed, he doubted he would have been able to at that moment.      

He looked up at Doyle, back into those intense blue eyes. He found he needed to hear the half-demon's voice. "Doyle?"     

Doyle had gone down with him, was kneeling beside the chair, his hand still trapped under Angel's. His eyes never left the vampires as he aid, "Yeah, man. It's me. It really is."  Angel said nothing, just kept staring at his friend, unable to keep his eyes off him.      

The intensity of Angel's gaze was disconcerting. Doyle looked away from the vampire, gave a rueful sigh. "I told Cordelia surprise wasn't the best idea. Guess I was right, yeah?"     

"The Powers sent you back?" Angel asked, his voice scarcely above a whisper.     

Doyle looked back up at Angel, withstood the vampire's unwavering, probing gaze. "Yeah, man. They sent me back, but it was you- you and Cordelia- who brought me back."     

Angel sat back, released Doyle's hand, gestured toward the empty chair nearest to the half-demon. Doyle got up, pulled the chair over to him and sat down. The two regarded each other over the table. Silence reigned for several minutes.    

"You gonna say anything, man?" Doyle finally asked, becoming edgy. Despite his new 'gifts', he was having trouble reading the vampire. He guessed his own fears and doubts, plus his inexperience, were hindering him.     

Angel shook his head. "I don't know what to say. I. . ."    

"How about you're glad to see me?" Though he tried to say it lightly, there was genuine worry in Doyle's voice. 

"Of course I am!" Angel leaned forward, again laid his hand over Doyle's; it lay on the table, was clenched into a tight fist. It relaxed slightly at Angel's words and touch. "Doyle, I'm sorry. It's just. . .unbelievable. I've been thinking about you so much lately. . .thinking about you, dreaming about you. And tonight, I even felt your presence. . .so much so that I realized that, as selfish as it was, I wanted, I needed you back."   

"And that's what brought me back, Angel. You and Cordelia wanting me back, saying it out loud, that's what made the Powers send me back; it was the only thing that would."     

"You wanted to come back?" Angel remembered the Oracles refusal to help prevent Doyle from dying. They had said his atonement was fulfilled, thus implying he'd attained Bliss, was happy.    

Doyle's words belied that assumption. "From the day I died, Angel. From the day I died. They kept telling me that I was where I belonged, that I was 'above' humanity, that I'd attained 'perfect happiness'." He glanced at Angel as he said the last two words. Angel merely smiled. "But it didn't feel 'perfect' to me. I just wanted out. I just wanted to come back. But they weren't having any of it. At least, not until the Oracles were killed."     

"The Oracles?"    

"Yeah. If the Powers could be at all thrown, the death of the Oracles threw them. They were lost, Angel. They were." Doyle shook his head at the seeming impossibility of that fact. "They really weren't sure what to do. So I went and pled my case one last time. I reminded them of the link that was lost; that you all just might need that link."     

Angel looked startled. "So, they made you that link?"

Doyle nodded. "Not right away, of course. Actually, almost not at all. They weren't completely convinced that you did need that link, that you did need. . .me. I had until midnight," he glanced at the clock, "one hour ago, in fact, for you to convince them that you did need me." He looked back at Angel, a wry grin on his face. "I wasn't sure I was gonna make it, man. You and Cordelia sure took your sweet time, didn't you, then?"    

"So, when I said I wanted you back. . .?"

"And when Cordelia did too."

"They sent you back. . .as their link. . .their new Oracle." Angel's eyes were suddenly, urgently searching Doyle's.

"Yeah. Kinda nice isn't it that I don't have to live under the post office and wear all that silvery, shiny junk and act all lofty and high above it all. . .what, Angel?" Doyle had been trying to play down his new role, stopped at the look on Angel's face; it held a mixture of shock and joy and realization.  

"Then. . .you're back to stay. This isn't just a visit or. . .just for tonight," Angel's whispered voice was full of wonder. "You're back to stay."     

"Yeah, man. You didn't get that?" Doyle's eyes held surprise and apology. "Yeah, I'm here to stay, Angel. . .if you want me to stay, that is. I
mean, I guess there is that possibility that. . ."     

"The new Oracle," Angel mused, then heard what Doyle was saying- sort of. "What did you say?"  

Doyle swallowed. "Just that I guess there is that possibility that you don't want. . ."     

"Shut up, Doyle," Angel interrupted roughly. He actually felt tears sting his eyes. "Just shut up."

Angel stood up, drew Doyle to his feet, then pulled the half-demon to him into a firm embrace. He closed his eyes and held on tight.     

Tears shimmered in Doyle's eyes, then rolled down his cheeks as he hugged Angel back. "So I guess I can assume you do want me to stay then?"     

Angel smiled through his own tears. "Like there'd be any way in heaven or hell that we wouldn't want you back. It's all I've wanted for a year, Doyle. Whether I knew it or not, it's all I've wanted for a year. And I know Cordelia's always wanted it. We've missed you, Doyle. We've missed you."   

Doyle pulled back a little so he could look Angel in the face. "So, you're okay with this Oracle thing then, yeah? 'Cause, you know, I'm not even sure. . ."  

"It's just icing on the cake, Doyle. Having you back is all that matters, and I'll take you however I can get you. The Oracle thing is just. . ." Angel searched for words, then said, "An added bonus."     

"So, you think I'll do okay then?" Doyle asked hesitantly. "I mean, I'm not exactly who I'd pick to. . .well, help save the world."    

"What are you talking about? You already did that. A year ago you did that. When you took that leap onto that Beacon, you did more than help save the world. . .you did save it. You saved us all." Angel shook his head. "No, Doyle. The Powers couldn't have picked anyone better or more deserving than you. I was always proud to have you by my side, but never more than I am right now. I'm stronger with you. I always was."   

"And Wesley and Gunn?" Doyle asked, voicing a doubt that plagued him.    

"What about them?"     

"Will they be stronger with me too, Angel? Or will they just want out?"     

Angel smiled. The original Oracles had always been so haughty, so sure of themselves, so full of themselves. Doyle's uncertainty, in fact his very genuineness, had to be refreshing, even for those as omnipotent as the Powers That Be. "They'll be fine, Doyle."     

Doyle pulled away from Angel, walked across the room, shaking his head. "I don't know, man. I've watched them off and on. Wesley will be easier, once he understands it all. But Gunn. . .he's another story. He scares me a little. He's so full of anger, of cynicism. I'm not sure he believes in anything, Angel."     

"He'll believe in you," Angel stated with certainty. "It make take awhile, Doyle, but he will believe in you."  

"I just. . .I don't want to cause problems, Angel. I didn't come back to cause problems. You all have been doing just fine without me. . ." Doyle stopped as Angel shook his head. "What?"    

"Give me a definition of 'fine', Doyle," Angel told him. "If we've been doing 'fine' without you, we'll do better with you."

"You think so?"     

"I know so."     

Doyle took a deep breath. "Okay. I'm sorry, Angel. I gotta admit it though, man, this whole Oracle thing, it's got me scared. I don't want to blow it. I mean, I'm still just me, you know?"    

Angel nodded, crossed the room to stand in front of his friend. He put a hand on each of Doyle's shoulders. "Yeah, I do know. And that's why you'll do well, Doyle. Because you are just you." He once again pulled the half-demon into a gentle embrace. "And I am more grateful than I can ever say to have you back."     

Doyle let out a shaky sigh. "Thanks, Angel."    

Angel nodded, pulled back to look into Doyle's tear-filled eyes. "Welcome home, Doyle," he said. "Welcome home."