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Disclaimer: I don't own them.
Author's Notes: I own no one. They are all the property of Joss Whedon. Aside from that, I suppose this story and the ones that will follow it require some explanation. As of the latest episode, “Expecting,” I have decided it might be fun to write down journal entries the way I imagine Cordelia would write them. There will be at least one to mark each episode of the series thus far, and will end whenever the Angel Series Finale airs. Hope you enjoy the look into Cordelia’s mind as much as I will enjoy writing about it.
On a side note, each entry will be subtitled with a quote from the episode of which it’s about. Enjoy:
“Bad Things Are Coming, Aren‘t They?”
December 3, 1999
I wish I didn't have to write this down, as that would make it seem so final and real, but Angel thinks it might be good therapy. The worst thing that could have happened has happened! I still can’t quite believe this is real, but... Doyle's dead.
When he called me--God, was that only yesterday?--I had no idea just how serious our latest case was. Not until I’d reached the address he’d given me with a rental truck. Not until I saw the family of half demons we were meant to protect. Not until I learned that there was a dangerous army of PURE demons out there (who call themselves the Scourge) who are big on “pedigree” and out to exterminate any of half-human breeds.
Arrangements were already being made when Doyle and I met up at that apartment to get this family out of the country, to book them passage on a cargo ship out of the states so they’d be safe. That was primarily my job, to make sure the ship was ready before we could move these people there with no problem. Such a task didn’t prove too difficult, fortunately, and I quickly made a call back to the apartment to signal them.
However, the patriarch of this little group was quick to inform me that Doyle had been forced to leave them temporarily to go out looking for his rebellious teenage son. All we had to do was wait for them (and Angel, although I had no idea where he was or what he was doing) to get here and we’d be home free. Also during that little chat, I was due for a big surprise: Doyle himself was ALSO half-demon!
When Doyle and Reed (the runaway) finally arrived on the scene, I was all set to rant out the former for keeping this from me. I made it clear to Doyle that it didn’t really matter the way he thought; it didn’t make him any less of a decent guy in my eyes. And I was sure that the point had gotten across, because he was so close to asking me out after a little prompting on my part!
That’s when things started going downhill and fast... Angel arrived before Doyle could even ask, with the Scourge right on his heels. He (Angel) demanded we shove off as soon as possible, but even that order came too late. Even fighting and killing several members of the Scourge wasn’t enough. They had already transported one of their weapons on board: a bomb whose light would kill anything with human blood within a half-mile radius.
Angel wanted to be the one to disarm it, save the rest of us, even though it would have cost him his own life. Naturally, Doyle and I argued this point; we weren’t ready to lose our friend this way. But Doyle was the first to concede to it; at least that’s how it seemed to Angel and I.
I knew from the moment that Doyle sent a mean right hook flying at Angel that he fully intended to sacrifice himself in the latter’s place. In the moments that followed, when Doyle kissed me goodbye, presented his demon face to me for the first and last time... I was too daxed to do anything. I could only watch and he jumped from the platform over to the bomb, even as Angel tried to stop him... I could just stand there in tears as the light literally ate at Doyle, stripping away layer after layer until there was nothing left. But, in the end, he did shut it down. He saved all of us, leaving the world as a true hero. And Angel and I were left behind to cry in each other’s arms.
When we got back to the office, I almost unconsciously dug up the commercial I had filmed with Doyle in it, slipped it quietly into the VCR for Angel and I to watch, if only to provide some comfort. We didn’t say a word to each other, but the air was filled with our combined grief all the same.
I asked Angel some time later how Doyle could do it, how he could give up so easily. And the really sad part... This was Doyle’s way of making amends, to atone for the time he turned away his own people when he could have saved them from this same threat. So I guess I was wrong when I called Doyle a saint in an earlier entry; he’s made his share of mistakes just like the rest of us. The only difference is, he evened the score by saving another whole race from the Scourge.
I know that, in Doyle’s case, it was the right thing to do, and it may have been our only option. I have to believe there’s a time and a place for everything, and maybe that wasn’t the time for Angel to give his life for the greater good. I just wish that there could have been a way that we all could have come out ahead, and that my heart didn’t feel like it’s being torn in two by his absence... I don’t think I’ll ever stop missing him, but perhaps writing the following words down will help towards that end.
Goodbye, Doyle...