Part Four

Two seconds later she had buried herself in his arms. Doyle felt his heart thud, and he closed his eyes, battling to keep the tears from rushing from his eyes as he held her close, breathing in the scent that for so many months he had only dreamed about.

"It's really you." She whispered, her voice husky, and Doyle pulled her in closer, feeling his body tremor. For a moment they were still, heads buried in each other's necks, trying to recover from the emotion that hit them both too hard, too soon.

Slowly, he lifted his moist eyes to meet hers. They stared for one long minute, drinking in the sight of each other.

"You didn't say goodbye." He said unsteadily.

She looked away, opening her mouth to answer when the screen door that led to the back porch slammed open. "Hey, Cor, where did we leave the sodas-who the hell are you?"

Doyle and Cordelia both turned, Cordelia finally realizing what the scene must have looked like, and almost regretfully pulling back.

"Xander." She said softly. The taller man's eyes burned with jealousy, and for a minute, Doyle was filled with complete rage at his possessiveness. There was an ownership in Xander's eyes when he gazed at Cordelia that didn't fit somehow. Cordelia belonged to no one, or if she did, then she belonged to everyone. Angel had known that, he had never tried to change her, never tried to reign her.

Swallowing he looked at Cordelia. Her face was now passive, her voice steady. "You never met Doyle, did you?"

"Xander." Doyle called in greeting. Xander made no move to come forward to greet him, and Doyle didn't care. Instead, his eyes floated to a now more mature Willow, sitting at the table, her green eyes riveted on him as she barely paid attention to the baby that was scrambling all over her lap.

"Willow."

"Hello, Doyle." her voice was a soft whisp.

Xander's eyes darted between the three of them, and his fist clenched for a minute. Oz, sensing the tension the minute he had entered after Xander, came forward.

"I'm Oz."

Doyle shook his hand deftly, his eyes never leaving Cordelia. Now that the introductions were over, he needed to give her the news.

"Cordelia, Angel's sick."

She felt numb, for a minute, she felt nothing, she hadn't heard that name for so long, except in her mind and in her dreams, that she had to register what was said twice before it began to make sense.

Her heart began to thud so fast she felt near a heart attack when she hit clarity. Her eyes grew wide, and she could say nothing, only stare at him beseechingly.

All eyes were on Doyle, who only gazed at Cordelia. His eyes seemed to flood with tears then, and the Irishman struggled with his words, looking away in embarrassment for his loss of control.

"He's dyin'." Was all he managed.

"Oh, God." The words came out of her a soft whisper, and her legs buckled beneath her. Xander was close enough to catch her, bringing her to him, holding her as she tried to control her runaway emotions despite the conflicting embers of emotion in his eyes.

Doyle waited, wanting more than anything to be the one to comfort her, blatantly aware that that right was not his, not anymore.

Willow rose, even the children were unusually silent, her hand reaching to Oz as she looked into his eyes. He alone knew her part in this, and he nodded, understandingly.

Cordelia steadied herself, forcing herself to breath despite the overwhelming desire to run to Doyle, to scream and shake him and beat him and cry out how they could have let that happen to her lover, that it wasn't true, that her beautiful Angel would never die, to scream with rage and demand he take her to him.

"We don't know what to do." He continued slowly. "I figured you'd be our only hope."

For a minute, there was only silence, and then she broke away from Xander with a force that made Willow jump and Ruppy cry out in alarm, her stance taught and strong as she left the kitchen.

There was no sound, but fire seemed to crackle from the room when Xander strode after her.

She was throwing clothes in a duffel bag when he found her in the bedroom. For a moment he said nothing, but when she looked up to see him leaning against the doorway, she turned away again.

"Xander. I can't talk about this now. Okay? We'll have the big fight, or talk or whatever you want when ...." She trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence.

He continued lean against the door, his hands in his pockets, face placid and unreadable as he watched her.

"Do you think I deserve one?"

She closed her eyes, moving to her closet and pulling out a sweater when she answered. "I can't think about it right now."

He was quiet for a minute. "I do." He said, shrugging. "But I think you deserve something else more."

She wavered, finally pausing to meet his eyes. "What?"

He swallowed, his eyes on the floor as he stumbled on. "Understanding. That's what I'm gonna give you."

She was frozen, then her eyes watered and she was buried in his arms, body trembling, tears flooding.

"I'm not doing this for him. You know how I feel about him. I'm doing it for you."

She nodded. "I know."

"Just ... let's not have that talk until later okay? I just want to keep doing the denial thing for now."

Cordelia gazed at him for one long minute, at the watered eyes, and swallowing, nodding shortly.

He coughed, his eyes red as he went to his own closet. "Better pack my own stuff too." He said crisply. "Maybe I could help, you know do the research thing."

Cordelia watched him try valiantly to keep the bitterness, the anger out of his face and voice, and she was still. "I love you." She said quietly, and meant it.

He stopped his actions, looked at her once, and nodded gruffly. "I know."