Mad Bad & Dangerous To Know

By DM Evans

Let me put aside every desire, every relationship except this one, so that my heart grows used to its farthest spaces. Better that it live fully aware, in the terror of its stars, than as if protected, soothed by what is near.
Ignorant Before the Heavens of My Life -Rainer Marie Rilke



It was busier on the streets of Deadwood than I expected. I guess even small South Dakota towns can get crowded when there's free money to be won at slots and cards. We had been on the run for three weeks. We had flown into Denver and rented our RV. We drove into Montana then into South Dakota.

Connor had calmed since we rescued him, no longer shrieking, caught in nightmares but there were no signs he knew who any of us were. I couldn't tell if it was from the spell or insanity or a combination of both. That my son was disturbed was no in question. He made the perfect little brother for my other child; Dru would love him like this. If I hadn't been the one to break her, I'd swear that there was something about me that predisposed my kin to madness. My only consolation was Giles had gotten Cordelia to Pittsburgh. She was still in a coma but she was receiving the care she needed.

Wes and Fred tried to be encouraging, telling me daily Connor seemed clearer. Being around him hadn't overridden the spell, though. They still didn't know him. Connor didn't like Lorne. It was like he could see through the glamour charm that made Lorne appear human. So Lorne mostly stayed away as much as possible which wasn't much since we were trapped together on a cross-country run. Faith treated Connor like he was normal, like his mind wasn't in a thousand pieces spread across the floor. I think she might have had the right idea. Connor liked spending time with her the most, so maybe her approach was the best one.

Wolfram and Hart had harried us in every state we had been in. Wes thought they might be using locator spells. Lorne had another trinket that scrambled those but not perfectly. Gunn had been with them when they caught up to us in a touristy ghost town; Clancy, Montana. We managed to get away from him and the Grappler demons he had with him without killing him. Fred cried the whole next day. So far they hadn't found us in South Dakota but it was only a matter of time unless we did something about it.

And that was exactly what I had planned. I had left Connor in the RV asleep. Connor's long fingers clutched the stuffed buffalo Fred had bought him three days ago. We had stopped for the day in Keystone. Our run had turned into part hiding out from Wolfram and Hart and part road trip, mostly because my human companions needed something to break the constant stress.
We no longer needed to sedate Connor, so Fred, Wes and Faith had taken him into town. Fred had wanted to see Mt. Rushmore hence our adding Keystone to the list. As it turned out, Fred was a collector of touristy trinkets. Connor had latched onto the white buffalo in one of the gift shops and seemed so fascinated by it that Fred bought it. I figured as long as he wasn't talking to it I could let him have it, despite him being too old for such things. It seemed to calm him but the toy bothered me; put me in mind of Dru once more. So did how soporific he was. He slept more than was normal. On her worst days, Dru couldn't be roused.

I headed for the Bullock Hotel. I was supposed to meet Wes and Faith there. We were expecting company but he wasn't due in for another hour. Instead of going straight to the hotel, I headed down Main Street to St. Ambrose's Catholic church. I half expected it to be locked but it wasn't.

I went in uncomfortably. I almost dipped my fingers in the little brass basin of holy water by the door as some long ago muscle memory moved me. It was true. No matter how hard you try to excise Catholicism from your bones, it still lingers whether you wanted it to or not. I moved up the aisle to the first pew. I had no right to go all the way to the altar.
I looked around at the statuary and the stained glass then up at the large hanging crucifix behind the altar. Looking at that writhing Christ, which had always scared me as a child. I knew I didn't belong here. I thought back to all the priests and nuns I've slain, the atrocities I had committed within walls just like this and I knew I had no business here. That didn't stop my knees from hitting the kneeler. If I had thought very hard, I could probably remember the Latin for the prayers of attrition.

"I know I have no right to ask for anything. I'm not sure you even exist and if you do, I know you have no time for a creature like me. But I know the man who raised my son introduced Connor to you. I know my son believes in you. He's done some wrong things, I know this, but he is very lost right now. Maybe it's because he's never had anyone to guide him. He was raised to fight, to hate by someone who was half insane. Then I abandoned him to this world, alone and afraid. All I want is for you not to abandon him. I want my son to be well."

I knelt here for a moment as if I expected an answer. I nearly laughed, feeling remarkably foolish. For someone who hadn't earnestly prayed since he was a child, it had certainly spilled out of me. I left St Ambrose and headed for the Bullock Hotel. I found Wes looking over Faith's shoulder as she plugged quarters into a slot machine. Fred had cleaned out some of the accounts at Wolfram and Hart, filtering the pilfered money through a maze that I hoped no one could trace back to us.
As much as we needed the money, I didn't like us being thieves especially when Wolfram and Hart was involved. I shouldn't let Faith waste money but it was worth a few twenties to keep her entertained since her preferred entertainment was impinged by a lack of privacy and eligible men.

"Doing any good?" I asked.

She looked coyly over her shoulder at me. "Not really but it's fun."

"Addictive really," Wes said.

"He's already blown his wad," Faith said. "Such as it was."

Wes gave her a dirty look.

"Have you seen him yet?" I asked.

"No and I've been prowling through the casino," Wes replied, waving a hand at the crowded casino. "Maybe we should go outside and see if we can locate him. He might be lost."

I nodded. "Good idea. I don't want to be away from Connor for too long."

They didn't argue. We went outside. Despite it being a few days into official summer, the night air this high in the mountains was cool. Wes sat on the bench outside the casino while Faith talked to some sort of street vendor. They were plentiful, especially since we had arrived in time for the Wild Bill Days festival, a handful of days for people to roam around in costume and pretend it was the Old West. I had been in the Old West. I preferred today. I leaned against the brown sandstone of the hotel. Faith sat next to Wes with her prize, a slim cigar. She lit it, knowing full well she had the attention of me, Wes and several men passing by. The cigar smelled good. I wouldn't have minded a drag.

"Nice view."

We all looked over at the speaker. It took me a moment to recognize Lindsey. He had on a wide brimmed white cowboy hat, tight jeans, a glitzy western shirt and cowboy boots. In other words, he looked like most of the locals.

"I wasn't sure you'd meet us," I said.

"I have no idea why I'm here," Lindsey said, coming over to us. He leaned against the street lamp. "I guess maybe because you said you need to help a kid get away from Wolfram and Hart. I don't like the idea of them having some teenager prisoner."

"Well, they don't have him any more but they are trying to get him back." I pushed off the wall, pacing around the front of the building. "I can't let that happen."

"So how do I figure into this bizarre band of characters you have on your side?" Lindsey waved a hand at Faith who pursed her lips, blowing smoke at him. "I can't help you protect anyone. The muscle work is your forte."

"I know. I made a foolish deal with Wolfram and Hart to work with them." I hated admitting a weakness to Lindsey.

"You did what?" Lindsey barked, sweeping his hat off. Maybe the brim had been obscuring his view but now I was getting the full lash of his blue eyes.

"It's a long story," I said, wearily. "And we need a place to tell it away from eavesdroppers. I'd rather avoid our RV until I'm done explaining. There's someone there who doesn't know the whole story yet and right now it wouldn't help him to hear it."

"We can go to one of the bars. We're spoiled for choice here," Lindsey said.

"I don't want civilians to get overly curious. There're too many people around. I'm not comfortable here with Wolfram and Hart's monsters still after us," I argued.

"Well, I suppose we can go to my hotel room," Lindsey said, not the least bit uneasy with that offer. He knew I needed him so I was unlikely to hurt him.

"Fine. Lead the way."

Lindsey headed to Sherman Street and took us to Deadwood Dick's which looked like it had been a warehouse a hundred years ago. Faith snubbed out what was left of her cigar as we went in. I was shocked at the white marble staircase and pillars inside. He led us up to his little suite. He sat in the desk chair, leaving a worn upholstered chair for Wes. Faith stretched out on the bed, propping a pillow on the red brick wall that would have made me vaguely nervous if I planned on doing more than sleep. I perched at the edge of the bed to keep myself from pacing the room.

"How'd you even find me?" he asked curiously.

"I have a friend who's a hacker and a witch, a little computer, a little magic and we have your Oklahoma phone number," I replied and he scowled.

Lindsey listened intently to my tale of what had happened without interruption. I could almost see him taking mental notes. When I finished telling him about the verbal agreement and what had become of Gunn, he dropped the arm he had been resting his chin on while he listened. He sat up straight. "Are you all monumental idiots?"

"I'm beginning to think we must be," I said bitterly.

"Don't include me in this. My stupidity with Wolfram and Hart is in the past," Faith said, drawing one leg up, making Lindsey look.

"I need to know if I've given away everyone's life and soul in this bargain, Lindsey."

The lawyer shook his head. "Not on the strength of a verbal agreement but it sounds like Gunn's already signed on. You might not be able to help him."

"But they're still coming after us, chased us through four states," Wes said, "They obviously think they have some sort of claim on us."

Lindsey shrugged. "And that differs from how Wolfram and Hart has always treated you, how?"

"I never thought of it that way," I admitted, wondering why I hadn't seen it from that point of view. "I was too worried about the verbal agreement."

Lindsey ruffled his hat-flattened hair. "And well you should have been."

"So how do we make them leave us alone?" Faith asked.

"You could try to get restraining orders but I wouldn't advise it. You might have been around for two centuries or so, Angel, but you aren't a lawyer. Most lawyers won't want to go up against Wolfram and Hart. A few mavericks might but your best bet is to do what you always should have done. Go after them and wipe them out. The Beast has done most of your work for you from the sounds of it. That you even allowed them to grow back was a mistake," Lindsey said.

"I had other concerns, huge ones," I grumbled. "That's your best advice? I would have thought you'd have some sort of legal wrangling to offer. You got away from them, after all."

"Yes, how did you manage that?" Wes asked. "Lilah's contract has bound her, even after death. I tried to destroy the contract to free her but it wouldn't work."

Lindsey's eyes widened. "Lilah's dead?"

"Unfortunately," Wes said, sounding truly regretful.

"Look, I didn't work any magic to get away from them. I was still pretty new. I hadn't signed any of the fancy contracts like Lilah had. They sued me for breach of contract. I paid the hefty fine and that was that. The truth is, they were tired of me. I had screwed up one too many times. Giving me back my hand was the last ditch effort to win me over and it failed. Letting me go was easier than killing me." His face paled. "Not that I don't expect to wake up dead every day since I left. So long as you haven't signed the formal contract, you should be all right. The reason they're still after you is they're Wolfram and Hart, evil through and through. I can't believe you even considered they had changed their ways."

"I wasn't thinking clearly. I thought I was saving Connor," I replied, truthfully.

"Who is this Connor? What makes him so special?" Lindsey asked.

"He's mine and Darla's son," I said, simply.

Lindsey was on his feet. "What? That isn't possible Angel. You're dead. She's dead."

"And we managed to make a life, a miraculous, prophesied, completely messed up life. Our son was slipping into insanity." I got up, backing away from him. "Too much had gone wrong in his life, so I had Wolfram and Hart write him out of this life and give him an all new one."

"How messed up could his life be? He couldn't be more than two," Lindsey said, moving out of my way.

"He grew up in a hell dimension, Quor-Toth. That was my fault," Wes said. "Time moved differently there, according to Angel, and Connor's now an eighteen year old boy."

"Angel says?" Lindsey sat on the bed with Faith.

"They don't remember him. It was part of the spell. My witch friend is working on ways to counter it," I said, uncomfortable with giving Lindsey Willow's name.

"You're serious," he said, getting into my space. "He's real, Darla's son?"

I noticed how he made Connor entirely Darla's. Fair enough, given his past feelings for her. "Connor's real. He's in the RV, which is why I didn't want to talk there. He doesn't know yet what I tried to do to help him. Wolfram and Hart had him in a dimension that the white room accessed and I don't know what they were doing to him. He's still a bit...mentally confused. We don't know if that's the spell, what had happened to him before it or what happened after the spell was cast," I replied.
Lindsey's eyes glistened. "Can I see him?"

I didn't have to ask why. Connor was a connection to Darla. "Of course. Come on."

As we started our way back up the hills to the Deadwood KOA campground, I looked at Lindsey and said, "She sacrificed herself for him. It came down to our baby's life or her own."

"And she did the noble thing." He seemed happy about that.

"She told me this baby was the only good thing we had ever done together. She wasn't wrong." I sighed. "And I want to get him back, give him all those good things I planned to."

No one said anything to that. Lorne greeted me at the door, a nervous look on his face which was pale, almost pinkish, no horns in sight. He wasn't a very attractive human.

"Oh, Angel... um, we tried to call you but the mountains seem to be screwing up the cell phones," Lorne said.

"What happened?" I felt cold.

"Fred and I were out making s'mores for the kid." Lorne pointed at the campfire outside our RV. "And he seems to have gone out a window. Fred went after him and I waited here just in case he came home since if he saw me he'd just run faster."
"Damn it." I wanted to wring their necks. It would be one thing if Connor had fought and escaped them but they just let him wander off. "Do you know which way Fred went?"

"Towards downtown."

"Great. Faith, you and Wes split up, see if you can find him. Connor should go with you. Lindsey, why don't you wait here?"
I didn't wait for an answer. I picked up Connor's scent easily enough and I ran after him. I didn't really want my friends' help which was why I sent them off on their own. Connor was my problem and I had to deal with this newest bit of bad behavior on my own. Worse, if he was suffering from a fresh psychotic episode, he was a danger to everyone but Faith, and maybe even her.

I was surprised that the trail led to Mount Moriah Cemetery. Connor hadn't ever shown any interest in them before. He found enough vampires to stake just hanging around the clubs in L.A. I tracked him past the large graves of Wild Bill Hitchcock and Calamity Jane. Why in the world had my son come here? His trail led outside of the cemetery through a gate and up a steep incline. I found him lying on a bench next to another grave. The view off the mountain was wonderful. The summer breeze carried the fresh scent of pine. Connor didn't seem distressed. He seemed to be staring up at the stars.

"Connor, son what are you doing here?" I wasn't sure if he'd answer me. He only ever seemed half aware of his surroundings. He didn't often speak now.

"Talking."

I looked around at the silent woods. "To whom?"

"Mom." He turned his head to look at me.

"Connor, your mother is dead," I reminded him gently.

"So are you."

Well, he was certainly more clear of thought than he had been and I was sure he knew damn well the difference between me and Darla being dust.

He looked back up at the stars. "We were looking at the stars and naming them. Mom said Dru used to like to do that."

I froze. I had never mentioned Dru to Connor. I pulled out my cell phone and called Lorne. The connection was bad but I got out that I had found Connor and figured Lorne could take it from there. I slipped the phone into my pocket and called out,

"Darla?"

She glided out from a woody patch near a purposely rough-hewn looking tombstone that read •Seth Bullock, Pioneer, Martha his wife.' She was still dressed in white like she had been in the trunk of my car. That hadn't been a hallucination. She walked over to me, sliding a hand up my arm. Connor watched that curiously. Darla had no scent. She oddly felt real but very cold.

"You saved him." Darla brushed away a twig that had got caught in my hair in my dash up the mountainside.

"I told you I would, Darla. I wouldn't let anything happen to him," I said.

"Liar," he said, twisting on his side so he could look at us. "You gave me away."

"No, Connor." God, had he been aware of everything all this time, just holding it in, hiding from it? Or was he suddenly awakening from his fugue?

"I know what you did. Lilah told me." His voice was heavy with accusation. Maybe my sad little prayer had worked or maybe it was the sight of his dead mother but Connor's sanity seemed to have returned and he was as full of hate as ever. When would I learn, •be careful of what you wish for?'

I went to the bench and knelt on the hard, rocky ground. He didn't flinch away or make a move to strike me. Darla went with me, her hand on my shoulder. "I tried to give you a better life, Connor. You were too full of pain. I couldn't make you better. You wanted a family so much it hurt. I gave you what I thought would heal you, a family. That's what I tried to give you. I nearly lost all my friends in the process. But Lilah lied to me. As soon as I discovered that, I rescued you."

"You let me go again," he accused, his eyes filling with tears as his fingers clamped down on the edge of the bench.
I ran a hand over his hair and he let me. "No, son. I let you go for the first time. Because it was the only way I saw to help you but I was wrong. I did everything I could to hold onto you when you were a baby. I would have done anything to keep you safe but it wasn't meant to be. You were stolen. I tried so hard to get you back but I couldn't find a way into Quor-Toth."

"I found a way out." He sat up, looking down at me. "You never wanted me. You wanted to destroy me. Cordelia told me so."
"That isn't true," Darla said, surprising me. I had nearly forgotten she was there. "The demon inside of your friend was telling you that. You believed me about that in the end. You tried to fight but she controlled you."

"He wanted me gone. He wanted to kill my daughter." He pointed a trembling finger at me.

"I never wanted you gone," I said, and his eyes darkened. He didn't believe me and why should he? I had thrown him out along with Cordelia. "I know I put you out in the street but I didn't know what I was doing. I was half mad from hunger. I know that's no excuse. I should have made you come back with me once I was better. I failed you. I've failed you in so many ways. I know that. But I tried my best, Connor. Sometimes that's not good enough. I even tried to rescue Jasmine at the end but that wasn't possible. You know that. You did what you had to as much as I wish you had left it to me. No one should have to kill their own child."

"You tried to kill me." His eyes clouded then he screwed them shut, pain etching into his face. Was he avoiding facing up to what he had done? Did he remember or was he insane even then? He certainly remembered at least one of our battles.

"No, I tried to stop you from killing innocent people. I know you didn't want to do that."

"I...I barely remember. I remember wanting to die." His voice cracked and Darla stroked his hair. "I was so sad when I woke up and Lilah told me everything."

"She lied to you," Darla said for me and I wondered how many trips into the other dimension Lilah had made to fill my son's head with nonsense as he drifted in and out of sanity.

"I was afraid you would force me to hurt you, Connor. That's why I made that deal. I'm so sorry," I said, getting up on the bench with him.

"Forgive your father, Connor. He'll help you. I promise you that. I can't always be here with you." Darla said, tears rolling down her cheeks. "I can only make a few visits. They allow me that much. You redeemed me in the end, my precious boy."
He looked between us and started sobbing. I wrapped my arms around him and he let me pull him close. Darla sat with us. I was able to see through her now. She didn't have much time left on this visit. Still, she threw her ghostly arms around us both. I don't know how long Connor cried against me or when my own silent tears started. Finally he pulled away, letting his head fall back, turning his face to the moon.

"I have to go," Darla said, touching his chest. "But I'm always here with you, Connor. I'm part of your bright soul."

"Not bright," he muttered. "I've done bad things."

"I know." She ghosted a kiss over his forehead. "But you can be forgiven. Your father knows more about the path of redemption than anyone. He can lead you away from perdition."

"I can't hold onto everything," Connor moaned. "I try but things getting flittery and fuzzy. It gets better a little each day but then suddenly it's like it was that night Jasmine died. And it's all so confusing, frightening, painful to think. I can't find anyone or remember things then I get more scared. Every time I think it's all okay, it just breaks apart and nothing makes sense."

"You're ill, son," I said, squeezing his hand. "You need help and this time I'll make sure you get it. No quick fixes, no magic."

"I hate magic," he said.

"And I should have remembered that."

He looked around at the dark woods. "I like it here. I didn't know places could be so pretty."

Darla made a bubbling sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob. "This world is full of beautiful places, son."

"Not that you'd know it, Connor. You've never been outside of L.A. until now. If you like it here, maybe once I deal with Wolfram and Hart, we can come here for a while. It doesn't even have to be just me and you, if you don't want it to be. I'm sure our friends wouldn't mind some time away. Even if I have to ignore the Powers That Be, delay my chances at Shanshu, I will because taking you somewhere you're happy, somewhere you can get well is more important than anything else in this world to me," I said.

"Shanshu?" His long nose wrinkled.. I hadn't noticed it before but Connor had his mother's nose and full lips. I was hard pressed to see anything of myself in him other than the color of his hair.

"It's a long story. Let's just say it's a prophecy."

Connor's lips curled. "I don't like prophecies."

"Neither do I, really. But this one says if I redeem myself enough, if I'm good enough then I get to be human again." Both Connor and Darla stared at me. "And I'm supposed to keep helping the world like I have been to earn this but somewhere in that there has to be room for helping my son. If not, then what good's becoming human?"

We were all silent for a few long moments then Darla ran her hand, nearly transparent now, over Connor's hair. "I have to go, son. But I can always hear you. Talk to me sometime. I'd like that."

With that she was gone.

I took Connor's hand. "We should go back to the RV now son."

He nodded, detaching himself from me then started down the rocky trail into the cemetery. "I'm scared. I'm so afraid all the time and then I get so I can't even move. I can't talk or think. I just want to sleep. Everything's less sharp and hurtful then."

"You're still sick, son. You'll get better but it'll take time," I said, hoping that was true. Dru never got better, then again no one tried to help her. And this was exactly how she sometimes described things, in her more lucid moments. Would my boy stay this lucid or like Dru, would he fade back into his little world where things didn't hurt him so much? "And it's a scary time. Wolfram and Hart want you back and they're not ready to let us go yet."

He nodded. "I know. I haven't been any help."

"No one's expecting you to fight yet Connor. I'd rather you didn't. You need to relax and let yourself heal."

He cast a doubtful look my way. We barely made it back to the town when we heard screams of sheer panic.

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