He just asked if she had another vision, and in all honesty, Cordelia didn’t.
It was odd, but she felt that her dream had been some sort of premonition. Though, she wondered if her dream was not sent by the Powers That Be but by Joyce Summers instead. Maybe being in heaven gave Joyce some insider information about this guy. Cordelia grew up in a Catholic family. Well, more like, around a very Catholic grandmother and was familiar with the fire and brimstone that was hell.
“Why couldn’t the PTB be that gentle, then?” Cordelia sarcastically thought to herself about how easy the dreams were. Cordelia’s mind wondered for a second if these dreams were anything like the dreams she had after Darla had bitten her that had made the two almost connected.
Cordelia looked down at her warrior’s son. Was that why she loved this little guy so much? There was a deeper connection?
“Cordelia,” she thought to herself to try to keep her from getting distracted. All this deep thinking was beginning to hurt her head.
She began to focus at the question at hand. Was there something else? Was it another vision? Cordelia met her champion’s whiskey eyes and began to get drunk in them. She let all her walls down, for a second, and let her eyes tell Angel just how frightened she had become.
Cordelia let the words spill from her mouth, almost in a jumbled rush, about the dream that she had just woken up from. She let her feelings of safety with Joyce be expressed while shuddering slightly when she mentioned Lucifer, the dark headed man with the bone-chilling smile. She mentioned being surrounded by desert land, almost as if there was no other city or town near by.
“I honestly don’t know what to call it, Angel, but something is pointing me there. I know that Joyce had me about an hour outside of Las Vegas, maybe on the California border or something.” Cordelia sighed, and thought for a moment, trying to remember something. She sniffed a little bit before continuing, “There was a fire, smoke somewhere. I can’t remember anything else.”
Cordelia looked away from Angel back to Connor. She suddenly began to few the coming days. Whatever was about to come, whatever fight they had to fight, and Connor would be put at risk. He was already in danger and it seemed to Cordelia that all the other demons after the tiny newborn were nothing compared to the devil, himself. She put a hand protectively over the baby’s chest and looked back up at Angel. “You’re right about us all being in the same room, it’s safer for him.”
It only took that brief second for Angel to see exactly how scared Cordelia was. She had taken up his mission, took on visions for him, and now there was something else. It was something so big, so bad, that it had sent a ripple of fear from her to him. This wasn’t your every day, run of the mill Apocalypse. He reached for her hand, knowing that was the most comfort he could give as Connor slept peacefully between them. He wanted to do more but he knew he could never allow himself to get too close again. The last thing he wanted was for Angelus to be free, when he had a child, people he cared about, someone he loved. Sunnydale was only a small fraction of what that soulless bastard was capable of, and Angel knew it all too well. He had lived it.
Listening closely as Cordelia described this dream, he felt his brow wrinkle in all too familiar brooding expression. In another life, he was Irish Catholic, and while it explained Angelus’ love of nuns, it also meant that he knew far too much about the end times and Revelations. Even before he was turned, he had given up his faith. With everything he had seen in the centuries since, it didn’t restore it but instead, pushed it further away. Now with this, the idea that there might be a real Lucifer, well honestly, it wasn’t that out of the realm of possibility. There were vampires, werewolves, ghosts, demons. Who was to say the original Fallen One wasn’t true too. For all they knew, he could be an Old One. They were going to need Wes, a bible, and possibly a priest on this.
Angel ran his thumb over the back of Cordy’s hand, trying to give her some comfort in that small gesture. He knew it was probably not nearly enough. “Cordy, we’ll figure it out. Then, after Wes does his research, he can point me and my sword in the right direction, and I will kill it.” He paused for a moment, letting his eyes meet hers. “I won’t let anything happen to my family. To you.”