self_inflictedexhile | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

[after he, Sylar and Buffy confronted the Chaos Demon, and they got back to Slayer HQ, Dean helped himself to a couple of drinks and shower. he sorely needed both and, well, both were as good an excuse as any to avoid having the 'adult conversation' he'd promised Buffy he'd have with Cordelia. it worked for him for awhile. unfortunately, though, now he's out of ways to stall that won't end in him getting banished back to the sorority house next door or sleeping in his car for the next however long, so ... it's time to find Cordelia]

[maybe, he hopes, he'll get lucky. maybe she'll be asleep or something. that would be nice. while he's not going to hold his breath, however, he is sort of sneaking around the house, just in case, so he doesn't wake her]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Thanks.

[he takes the time to hunt down a glass and pour himself some -- normally, he'd just drink straight from the bottle, but since it's not his, that might be kind of a dick move -- and leans up against the counter. he downs the vodka, pours himself a bit more, and then] So, uh ...

[She glances back at that, raising her eyebrow slightly. She had a feeling he didn't just happen to be in the kitchen to listen to her ramble. There was something else.]

Something go wrong with the demon?

Nah. [a beat] Actually, the whole thing went pretty smooth, minus the whole ... havin' to be in a creepy demon bar in the first place thing.

[he's ... really, really not sure how to have this conversation, though, so he stops there]

[Cordelia waits for him to continue, before taking another sip of her drink.]

And now we're going to stand here in awkward silence?

[he frowns sharply at her] I'm gettin' there.

[a long pause follows, in which he drains his second drink of the moment, and then] Buffy said I might wanna get your story from, y'know, you and not the guy I had diggin' into you.

[She pauses, taking another sip of her drink before nodding.]

Okay. What do you want to know?

Whatever you're willing to tell. [he shrugs]

[really, he's not sure where to start and, well, he knows everyone has stuff they'd rather not talk about]

[She shrugs.]

I grew up in Sunnydale - Hellmouth - graduated from Sunnydale High after the mayor tried to ascend into some kind of creepy snake demon and devour us all as the main course. That would turn you off to any town, I couldn't afford to go to college so I decided I wanted to be an actress and took off to LA.

[She pauses, taking a sip of her drink.]

There were these two guys, Angel and Doyle. Angel was an old friend from Sunnydale but he was doing the hero thing - fight the good fight, all of that - and he started a PI business so that the he could help the helpless more easily find him. He needed a secretary, I needed a job that actually paid, so we started working together. Doyle was vision guy, Angel's connection to the Powers that Be. He would have a vision, Angel would save the day, I would send the invoice.

[sounds easy enough.]

That is until Doyle died, trying to save Angel. Before he did, he kissed me, and passed his visions on to me. I didn't realize that was what he was doing, but it was basically one minute I'm grieving, next I'm having images of pain and suffering shoved into my brain.

[he breathes out a little yeah when Cordelia mentions the mayor going nuts as something that'd turn you off to a town, but otherwise, he keeps quiet. when she finishes, he shakes his head and reaches for the vodka again, not even sure where to start with that]

Jesus. That's a hell of a deal. [and it actually doesn't occur to him that Doyle might have been a demon, despite the kiss]

No kidding.

[She shifts her shoulders a bit before shrugging.]

But it was good for me. Gave me perspective, you know? So I kept being vision girl and Angel kept doing the hero thing, and one day the Powers that Be showed up and told me that because of all my good work, they wanted me to ascend and become one of them. Because I'm an idiot, I agreed. Turns out, it was a giant load of shit.

I got conned by one of them named Jasmine, who thought that the answer to the world's problems was to take away free will. She let me sit until I decided that I had had enough, used me to hitch a ride back down to the planet and possessed me until she could deliver herself into the world.

And I mean that literally.

[she shakes her head.]

I was in a coma for a while, and eventually me and the PTB worked out a deal. I got to say goodbye to Angel, and then I would let him think I died. He needed to be pointed in the right direction again, so I agreed. He saved the world, and I went to being a truck stop waitress of I70.

[she pauses to take another sip of her drink.]

Things were quiet for a while, no visions, no supernatural crap and ... one day, as I was getting into my car to go home, I got a vision of a blond demon with white eyes, and some poor guy getting torn apart by hellhounds.

Cute name for a god or whatever. [he's not exactly sure what The Powers That Be are supposed to be -- angels, demons, gods, something else -- but regardless, Jasmine is up there with Ruby and Meg for stupid names for Big Bads]

[anyway. he starts to say something about her not really being dead, despite everyone thinking she was, or ask if she actually gave birth to the ... whateverspawn, and then she mentions her vision. immediately, his expression darkens, closes off, and he presses his mouth into a thin line]

Yeah. I remember that part, thanks.

Yeah, I know. And I didn't ask for it, but I had to trust it. That they were showing me these things for a reason. But you and your brother are hard as hell to track down when you don't want to be found, so I figured I just had to wait for you to come to me.

You try looking for headstones?

[since, at the time of her vision, he was kind of dead ... assuming she got the play-by-play while it was actually happening, anyway]

[She rolls her eyes.]

Do I look like an idiot? If you boys didn't want to be found when you were alive, your brother wasn't going to put you in an official grave in a cemetery when you were dead.

[his expression doesn't soften, nor does he apologize outright, but he does mumble something about that being a touchy subject. it's probably the best she should hope for -- probably the closest thing to him saying sorry for snapping that she'll get]

[a long moment of pause follows, and then] So, what now? [now that she's found him] Besides, you know ... [her being up his ass]

[she shrugs.]

I'm back to being vision girl again. I see, you save - world doesn't end in a shower of hellfire. Everybody goes home happy.

Except for the part where I think I said the world doesn't stay saved? Yeah. [so no one really 'goes home' and Jesus, he could use a break]

[She sighs.]

Maybe not. But there are still people out there that you can help. Don't worry about the big picture. Just focus on the smaller one that you can help.

[breathes out a sigh] Yeah, okay.

[he's still not sure if he's on board with any of this shit, but ... she's not going to leave him alone and she has a point, at least. if nothing else, he can keep making sure nothing like what happened to him and Sam happens to someone else. Sam would probably want that, the fluffy little princess]

[Cordelia nods, glad that they both finally seem to be on the same page, before she takes the vodka bottle from him and pours him a bigger glass.]

Now drink up. You need your sleep.

[ ... Cordelia, you are the strangest mother hen ever.]

[yes. yes, she is. and he's a bit shocked by the fact that she's actually supporting his drinking habit, to the point where he, well, points at the glass, his eyebrows raised] You're gonna -- no, you know what? Never mind. Pretend I wasn't about to argue that.

[that said, he takes the glass from her and proceeds to chug it, wincing only faintly as he slaps the glass down on the counter] Okay, wow. [as much as he drinks, the burn from chugging that much vodka is still a little intense]

[Yeah, Sam would not approve of Cordelia's methods at all, but as far as she's concerned ... she lifts her drink with a smirk.]

I'm not really one to judge.

[then she ... watches him chug all that vodka and she makes a face.]

You ... could have just sipped it. Just saying.

[still making faces, himself]

Yeah, but where would the fun be in that?

Not having a throat that's on fire?

[just as a suggestion]

There is that. [he shrugs] Little late now, though, right?

[She smirks before shrugging.]

Guess so.

[he flashes her a brief smile in return. and after a moment ... ] So, we done here? [because if so, he might take her up on that whole sleep thing. or, well, at least try]

[She nods.]

We're good. See you in the morning.

Yep. [and he's going to flip a wave over his shoulder as he heads out] Later.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only