Chapter One

"He still dreams about her. That pain, the agony that courses through me when I'm sleeping beside him, loving him, loving every part of him, and then he turns and murmurs that word in his dreams is sometimes unbearable.

Cordelia. We don't mention her, but I can see it in his eyes that he thinks about her, even when he's telling me he loves me.

I thought I could make him happy, I swore I would. These past ten years, had my own dreams, dreams that I could make him happy, now that he was free to love me. I wanted to see that loving expression, the carefree one I got before he opened the door and I came back into his life. It's not there anymore.

It makes me jealous, makes me wonder if it's me, it I bring out the sadness in him. What was so special about her that she could make him happy and I can't?

I had wanted a normal life, ever since I was chosen, I envied that from her, I had wanted her normal life so badly, until I got it.

We traded places then, me the wife of an aspiring doctor, her, here, in Los Angeles, day to day, with Angel.

God, sometimes I hate her, I hate her so much. What was so special about her? This was Cordelia! She complained when she broke a nail, she used to annoy the hell out of everyone, and she just grew on them, like some fungus! And Angel, my beautiful Angel, who had once told me he'd always be with me, he'd always loved me, chose her over me, over coming back and starting over with me.

Yes, I'm bitter. But I'm great at the denial thing. During the night, when we're working side by side, I'll ignore that look in Doyle's eyes, the fierce beating in my heart that I'm not good enough, I ignore it all, until I believe in myself again, until I think that just maybe, I'm the Buffy of before.

But when I'm lying here, listening to him toss and turn, dreaming about her, I feel my doubts creep up, my anger consume me, and my helplessness driving me to tears. I look at myself, at what I've become, and I cringe.

When did I become the bitch? That was always Cordelia, it was never me, it was never supposed to be me, I didn't deserve it, I don't.

This doubt that I don't deserve Angel needs to leave, because I do deserve him, I know it, and I know he loves me.

But, God, Cordelia. Why does he still dream about you?"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

They were crouched in the edge of the cave, the blackness that protruded engulfed them sufficiently, as they watched the ritual that would culminate in the death of two young children.

"Well?" Angel shrugged at her soft whisper.

"Can you handle those three?" Buffy nodded softly, sliding off her coat.

"Doyle?"

"I got those two." He said evenly, in that monotone he always used with her. She chose to ignore it.

"You ready?"

Angel nodded, his eyes not on her as he squeezed her shoulder and moved away. Buffy watched him leave, and took a breath, counting to three.

On the third beat, she jumped up, surprising the group of Druids that had congregated around the sacrifice.

"Hey guys!" She chirped, a smile on her face. They looked up in surprise, and the crack of broken bones filled the air as the Slayer swung her leg and kicked the closest in the face.

Angel engaged his immediately, his face distorted to that of a demon as he growled, punching at his with a rage that seemed to overwhelming as he knocked out the weaker one and concentrated on the most powerful.

One back hand sent the man reeling and Angel growled, jumping after him, throwing the hood back.

The druid's face was revealed, a horrid scar tore at his face, rounding his cheek and over his neck. His eyes glittered with rage, his blood flooding from his cut. His eyes focused on Angel, and his mouth widened into that of an evil smile.

"Angelus." He breathed. "You think I know you not?" He laughed, doubling over in pain, and looking back up.

Angel heaved, pulling him up, only to discover the druid lost in chanting. Suddenly the eyes opened, and Angel felt himself fall back.

Oh, God. Pain and agony filled him, flashing spots of blinding pain, and he gasped as he fell to the ground.

The druid rose, clutching at his stomach. "Take your curse, Angelus." He spit. "May you suffer and die."

Glancing at the fighting around him, he moved quickly and painfully from the cave. Buffy and Doyle did not see him.

Doyle dispatched his easily, sustaining only a cut on one arm. Buffy was done with hers seconds later. Turning to her lover, her heart froze.

"ANGEL!" She ran to his form, the thrashing body jerking almost grotesquely. His game face flickered on and off, and his face the picture of haunted agony.

"Oh, God, Angel." Buffy gathered his thrashing form to her. His hand thrashed, hitting her straight in the face and causing her to fall back. She rose immediately holding on to his painful form. Fear filled her as she looked at her lover's form.

"DOYLE!" She cried out, tears falling from her cheeks. "DOYLE!"

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