RATED R
SPOILERS: RIGHT AFTER RAIN OF FIRE, ATS 11/17/02. Need to have seen ROF before reading this fic. SURPRISE SPOILERS, as well as the one where Connor was born.
RELATIONSHIPS: A/C, C/C (connor/cordelia) B/A
DISCLAIMER: THE CHARACTERS IN THIS FIC ARE NOT MINE, THOUGH THE STORLYINE IS.
DEDICATION: Karin, Skippy1, who always makes my Mondays better with her AtS rants, and Jenn, who invited me to join His_Girl, tho I mostly lurk.
Feedback: Always appreciated!
POV: ANGEL

I stood on a callous and grainy wood rafter outside my son's home; a loft full of animals that are the victim of taxidermy. It is not the well-preserved animals that catch my attention, nor the occasional dead sparrow or burst of flame.

It is the fact that my son, barely a year old in our dimension, eighteen for every other logical purpose, is making love to Cordelia Chase. Yes, Cordelia. The same Cordelia that told me she loved me earlier today, gave a flimsy excuse, and proceeded to seduce and "bed" my teenaged son.

Buffy would never have done it. She wouldn't have given me such a line of bull shit, and she wouldn't have slept with Connor. Not once did she confuse Angelus with I, she kept them separate in her thoughts, and no doubt, in her dreams. And Cordelia told me we couldn't be together because of him. And I know that's not the truth, either.

Before Cordelia quickly confronted me on my soulless (and sometimes, I fear) more logical half, she gave one word that told me was her real fear. The word "Sunnydale" slipped from between her lips, and as it fell, I knew. Cordelia had no problem with Angelus, or the fact that he always loomed in the background.

She had a problem with Buffy, with who I was in Sunnydale. She had fear? issues about my love for her (which is still something I've never said) and my love for Buffy. In the end, the just do not compare. Cordelia was having SEX with my SON. Buffy would NEVER do that, not even when she wanted to hurt me irrevocably. She would just run a heavy shaft of wood through my chest and cause my heart to explode.

Cordelia was afraid that I would always love Buffy more. And it's true, I will, but that has absolutely nothing to do with whatever relationship Cordy and I are...were... going to have, because Buffy and I have removed one another from the other person's life. God, it was a slow and painstaking process, and I'm not really sure of it's worth in the end.

I remember being shocked when I spied on Cordy and my son together in bed. I wasn't even mad at Connor, because he was discovering an essential part of life. I was mad at Cordelia for taking advantage of the end of the world and sleeping with him, probably under the guise of 'something real before the end of the world'.

I, too, had one of those nights. Two, if you want to get picky, but one that outshines all but one other moment in my life.

It was a rainy January in a dim and gray apartment. The lights were muted, and we burst in, soaking wet from rain. Our adrenaline rushed through our veins, and I could hear her blood rushing through her veins. We had barely escaped from the judge with our lives, and yet not a word of complaint came from my better half.

I remember making love to her so well, and hearing her cry. And that was the most important moment of my life.

The other was the moment I held my precious son in my arms. Ironically, it was pouring that night as well. Pounding, driving rain that swept Darla's ashes away. Did her a terrible dishonor.

I stumbled to the Hyperion, where Gunn, Wesley, and Lorne were waiting for me.

"Angel! We thought you were dead!" shouted Wesley. He came near me, then hesitated. He motioned to his brow, and I noticed I wore a game face. I willed myself to change and felt my skin pull at the new wound on my neck.

"Not dead," I replied with a lopsided smile, the best I could manage. "She's safe- Cordelia is safe."

"Where is she?" Lorne asked. He bandaged up a wound on Gunn's head and came near me.

"With Connor," I bit out shakily. "They're okay."

Wesley, once my best friend, picked up on the hint of hesitation in my voice. "Angel, what are you leaving out of this explanation."

Should I tell them? Tell them about Cordelia FUCKING my teenaged son? I felt the bile rise up in my throat, a sour blood taste biting the back of my tongue.

"Angelcakes. You like you just found Fat Elvis dead in the bathroom. What is it?" Lorne prodded.

I gripped the door handle as I bit out shakily, "They were together...she fucked my son."

Silence.

Sharp and jagged.

Like my love for Buffy.

Like my hatred for Cordelia.

Like my son.

Like my life.

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