Prologue

Today I woke up hearing his voice again. I can't believe that it still hurts so much.

I mean, it's been months, you know? He's been gone longer than I knew him.

I really should forget. I try.

Life goes on, and sometimes I can go days without thinking of him, unless I get one of those stupid visions.

I can go for days without noticing that there's an empty place in my life where he was. I can go for days without hearing his voice in my head. And then, suddenly, something reminds me, and it hurts all over again.

I wish I hadn't told Angel that one time about how, sometimes, in the office, I think that I can hear him whispering to me.

"I'm still here, Princess."

Sometimes, I can hear him saying it, like he's trying to get through to me somehow.

But of course, he's not really here. It's only in my head, that's all.

At least, that's what I said to Angel.

After Angel called Wesley 'Doyle' by accident that one time, I had to tell Angel about that voice. Big mistake.

The first time Angel and I talked again, after we were interrupted by that vision, neither one of us could figure out how to start. We sat at the kitchen table, and he looked at me.

"Cordelia."

"Yeah."

"You asked me how I'm coping with .... well, what about you?"

Angel still couldn't say his name.

Finally I just said, "I miss him too. But sometimes..."

"Sometimes, what?"

"Sometimes, I get the feeling that he's still here. Watching us."

"You too?"

"Yeah. Weird, isn't it? It's like I can almost hear him, whispering in my head, you know. You think I'm crazy, don't you?"

Angel winced. Then he said, very softly, "No, you're not crazy. Sometimes I hear him too. What does he say to you?"

I put my head down and traced a circle on the table with my finger. "He says, 'I'm still here, Princess,' just like that," I finally admitted.

Angel's face went very still and quiet for a moment, almost like he was listening. "That's almost what he says to me. Without the 'princess' part, of course."

"Do you think there's anything to it?"

"I wish there was. But I think it's just ... missing him."

"Yeah. I guess you're right."

We just looked at each other. There wasn't much else to say. After that, we went back to never mentioning him.

If I hadn't said anything to Angel, then maybe Angelus wouldn't have had anything to say about him, either. I mean, he had more than enough to talk about, what with slamming my acting and putting down Wesley and all.

But I just had to say something, you know, just so that after Angelus knocked Wesley down and he was lying there stunned, and the great Rebecca Lowell was cowering behind me, when it was just him and me, well, I just had to give him something worse to make fun of than my play.

As Wesley hit the floor, Angelus turned to me and smiled.

He whispered it back to me, just to me, too low for Wesley or Rebecca to hear, even if either one of them had been with it enough to notice.

He whispered it, mocking me, in exactly the same tone that I'd used, when I was confiding in Angel.

"I'm nothin' but ashes now, Princess."

You can't get much lower than that.

Before that day, I had gotten to a place where sometimes I could sleep without nightmares. Now, I'm back again to waking up with the sound of that scream ringing through my mind.

Will it ever stop hurting?

And even worse, if it does, will that mean that we've forgotten? I mean, it would hurt a lot less if we did forget.

If I didn't have to remember, then I could sleep well again.

But then it would be like he was never here at all.

Now it seems like Angel doesn't have any real connection left to this world. Wesley told him he might die, and it was like he didn't care.

Doyle made him smile, even laugh sometimes. That little time when Doyle was with us, it was like Angel had someone who understood him, for the first time, and then that was gone.

I'm not enough. And Wesley? Forget it.

Neither one of us can help Angel the way Doyle could.

And then there's me. As in poor and alone, like I said to Wesley, and probably forever.

I mean, what's the point? Where's the fun in helping the hopeless now? No wonder Angel doesn't care any more.

Things could have been different.

If only I had some way to bring Doyle back to us, I'd give.... what? I don't know what.

It's not like I really have anything to give.

But, if I could find a way, I'd do whatever I had to do.

Whatever it takes.