Everything was white.
It was so bright it almost hurt her eyes. How long had it been? How long had she been stuck here in this nothingness? She had no way of telling how much time had passed, no way of knowing how much longer she would be here. She didn't even know where 'here' was. All she saw was the bright white color of the seemingly endless room she was in.
In a way, the blankness that surrounded her was welcome. It was better than what she had experienced before the coma. She had been forced to watch as she did things she had no control over. She had thought briefly that it must be how Angelus feels. Locked inside, knowing what's going on, but not being able to do anything about it. Cordelia had slipped up, and evil was allowed to take her over. Her soul had still been there, but it had been pushed aside. She could still remember it all so clearly. Screwing Conner, raising the Beast, giving birth.
It was the moment in the Casino that did her in. She used her powers to rig the slot machine. It was hard to believe that something so harmless had done her in. But in that one moment she had used her powers in a way not intended, and that was her downfall.
So, now she was in a coma. Stuck in this giant blank emptiness. Alone.
She recognized the voice, how could she not? Even after all this time, she'd recognize that Irish accent anywhere. Cordelia spun around to see her old friend standing before her.
He looked exactly the way she remembered, from his brown hair to his leather jacket.
Cordelia threw herself into his arms, tears welling up in her eyes. Doyle reached up a hand and gently stroked her streaked blonde hair.
"Now, now. Don't be getting all teary on me."
Cordelia looked up into his eyes and took a step back. "What are you doing here? I'm not dead am I? I better not be dead!"
Doyle laughed and shook his head. "Calm down. You're not dead. Don't worry about that. You're still in a coma of course, but youÕre very much alive. As for why I'm here...well, that's the good news."
Cordelia smiled, then frowned again. "Wait a minute, does that means there's bad news too?"
"'Friad so, Princess. But, I will tell you the good news first. You're leaving.
"Leaving?" Cordelia asked, confused.
"This plane of existence you're on. This limbo-y thing."
"Where am I going?"
Doyle smiled, "You're going back. You won't be in this coma for much longer."
A brilliant smile appeared on Cordelia's face, "I get to go back! To L.A!" She hugged Doyle tightly again. "I wish you could come back with me," she said softly.
"None of that now, Princess. Being dead ain't all that bad. Come on, we've still got some talking to do. The Powers That Be have some conditions to you wakin' up."
"Of course they do," Cordelia rolled her eyes. "They always have strings
"That they do." Doyle became serious, "Some of this isn't going to be easy to hear, Cordy. You're not going to be too happy about it, but just remember: you're going home. That's what's important. You're going back to Angel and all of the rest of your friends."
Bracing herself for the worst, Cordelia nodded. "Tell me what I need to