Surviving DisasterBy Queen C
Connor's POV
I can't believe I'm about to do this. Out of everything I've ever done in my life, this is most likely the dumbest. And, that includes the time that I trapped my father in a box and threw him in the ocean.
However, regardless of the reservations I may have, I can't seem to convince myself to turn around and go back to my room. Because, if I do, I know what's going to happen. I'm going to lie in bed and stare at the ceiling.
And I'm going to think of her.
Of course, I don't have to be lying in bed attempting to sleep to think of her. With her big blue eyes and long, shimmering hair, who could forget her? Especially when she smiles.
Unfortunately, that's where my actual memory of her ends and my imagination takes over. Which is fine with me. Because, if I rely only on my memories, then I can't picture her with a smile on her face and the sun shining off her hair. No, all I can see are teary blue eyes looking at me, hear her sweet voice begging me to listen to her, to believe what she's saying.
Of course, I didn't listen.
I mean, who would? When some stranger walks up to you and tells you that not only do they know you, but you were in love with them, how many people go ‘Oh, sure! Of course!'.
Now, though, I wish I had listened. I wish that I hadn't immediately dismissed her and left that alley, leaving two furious vampires to deal with her. I wish that I'd had the guts to ask my father what he and Spike had done to her.
I wish that I didn't have so many wishes.
Cordelia says that's part of life, part of being a ‘young adult'. That if I didn't wish things were different, there would be something wrong. Of course, that's coming from someone who *never* has doubts about anything. Or, if she does, she doesn't express them.
I wonder what she would say if she knew I was warping her advice to justify me sneaking out and going to see the girl that no one talks about. Oh well. With a little bit of luck, she'll never know.
And, if she finds out? If my father hears me leave, or if someone wakes up while I'm gone?
I don't allow myself to dwell on that for very long. As far as I'm concerned, it's simply not an option. Of course, logically I know that there's a very good chance that I'm going to get caught. I mean, surely Angel is going to be able to smell her on me. And the moment I try to lie, Cordelia will take one look at my face and I'll confess all.
But, right now, I don't care. I just know that I have to see her. I have to look into those big blue eyes and ask the questions that have been plaguing me ever since that night. I have to know how she knows so much about me. How she knew about Quor-toth, about Holtz, about the guilt I still feel for betraying Angel.
I have to know how she seems to know me better than I know myself.
Quietly, I stalk down the hallway, past the room that Lorne is staying in while his room is being redone, past the wing that leads to Fred and Gunn's room, past my father's partially open door.
I have to force myself not to look inside, already knowing what I would see. The image of Cordelia's dark head resting on his chest and her long legs sticking out of the blanket and curving around my father's hip flashes before my eyes and I quicken my pace.
After what feels like an eternity, I'm finally outside. Exhaling slowly, I pause on the sidewalk, glancing back at the still silent hotel. For just a moment, I hesitate, guilt washing over me.
If my father catches me all of the trust I've worked so hard to gain will be gone. Yet, even knowing that, I turn my head and continue walking, my eyes focused on what's in front of my rather than what I'm leaving behind.
As I make my way through the deserted streets, I allow my mind to drift back to the mental image I have of the girl I'm seeking out. Rolling her name around in my frazzled brain, I'm only partially surprised when I murmur it, savoring the feel of it on my lips and tongue.
Dawn.
How suitable for someone as brilliant as she. How ironic that I, the bastard son of two vampires, become so infatuated with someone whose name means the rising of the sun. Of course, considering that my father, one of the said vampires, was in love with the Slayer, the sworn killer of his kind, I'm beginning to think that irony runs deep in our family.
At any rate, I'm so lost in my musings that I nearly miss the bus that I'm supposed to catch that will take me to her last known location. Fortunately for me, the driver seems to realize that I am, in fact, a potential passenger and he stops. I stare up at him for a moment, taking in his scarred face and mess of white hair, trying desperately to remember what I'm supposed to do next.
Finally, he asks me if I'm getting on or not, and I shake my head dumbly, too embarrassed to admit that I've never done this before. So, with a sinking heart I watch as my one chance pulls away from the curve and continues into the night.
Sighing heavily, I sit down on the cold wooden bench, willing myself not to scream, cry, or destroy something. I should have known that I wouldn't go through with it. That the curiousness I feel towards the strange girl wasn't nearly enough to outweigh the fear I feel when alone in this strange world.
I'm not sure how long I brood for. Whether it was seconds or hours, it didn't really matter. The only thing that I care about is that I've failed in my quest, and the despair I'm feeling only seems to be getting larger.
Suddenly, I sense someone approaching. However, I decide to ignore them since I can hear their heartbeat and can sense that they aren't a real threat. So, resting my chin in the palm of my hand, I stare off into the distance, allowing my mind to create a fantasy where my own fears and self-doubts didn't prevent me from getting on that bus.
However, before I can even get to the part where I knock on her door, someone whispers my name. Frowning, I turn my head towards the sound, my breath catching in my throat at the vision before me.
Dawn.
Slowly, I rise to my feet, not taking my eyes off her. Part of me is afraid that, if I even so much as blink, she's going to disappear. However, that fear is soon put to rest the minute her face goes from shock to anger and her palm connects with my cheek.
Dazed, I take a step back, my hand touching the place she just slapped. Instantly, the wonder I was feeling dissipates and I narrow my eyes, growling softly.
How dare she hit me! Here I am, halfway across town in the middle of the night, searching for *her*, and what does she do? She slaps me! Then, realization dawns on me.
She doesn't know that I'm out here trying to find her.
So, taking a deep breath, I force my anger down and smile gently at her. I clear my throat, intending on reciting the speech I'd created for this moment. The speech I spent hours going over in my head.
The speech that I suddenly can't remember.
Finally, in a voice that sounds nothing like my normal one, I manage to squeak out, "I'm sorry."
Dawn's POV
I can't believe this is happening. I've just had the *worst* day at work, my feet are killing me, my head feels like it's about to explode, and who do I just so happen to see sitting at the bus stop, looking for all the world like his puppy just died?
Connor.
I swear, if I had any energy left, I'd cry. Or, maybe I'd laugh. Hell, at this rate, I'm liable to do a little of both.
I know I really shouldn't have hit him. I mean, it's not like he did anything wrong. He just reacted how any normal person would react when faced with someone they don't remember but who claims to know them.
The only problem is, he's not normal. I know it, he knows it, and anyone else that would take two seconds out of their busy lives to look past his heartbeat and breathing would see it, too.
Connor's more like a vampire than some vampires I've met.
Of course, that really doesn't make me feel any better. In fact, I pretty much try to steer clear of the whole vampire thought process since my little ‘talk' with Angel and Spike that night in the alley.
Shivering as the memory I've worked so hard to forget comes back, I nearly miss his next words. Scratch that. His *only* words.
Then, as his soft voice registers, I feel the tears I've been suppressing for the last three months start to fall. Sobbing, I feel my knees buckle and see the ground come rushing towards me. Then, his strong arms are wrapped around me, holding me up as I tremble and whimper.
After a few moments, I pull away, unable to take the feel of him beside me, knowing that he's not mine. That technically, he never was.
That chances are, he never will be again.
So, drawing in a shaky breath, I pull myself up to my full height and look him in the eye. I want to tell him to go to hell. That I don't need nor want his pity. That I'm doing just fine on my own, with no friends, family, or even an identity.
Except, I can't. I couldn't lie to him before and apparently I still can't.
Instead, I decide to accept his apology and, giving him a watery smile, I ask him if he'd like to go for some coffee. To my surprise, he accepts without hesitation and, for just a moment, I feel the slightest hint of suspicion.
Then I force it away and begin walking, heading for a quiet diner that I normally frequent whenever I'm feeling particularly sorry for myself. For some reason, sitting in one of those corner booths and eating peach pie which contains little to no peaches makes me feel better.
It makes me feel like everything is okay, like I have people who care about me. When I'm there, I can almost believe that Buffy is going to walk around the corner any minute and yell at me for not calling. I guess what I'm trying to say is, it's one of the few places I can go to that makes me feel human again.
Not that I'm not human, now. On the contrary, I'm more human than I was before this entire ordeal started. I can feel it, or the lack of it, really. Whenever I try to concentrate, to do some of those breathing exercises that Angel taught me, I can tell. Not only did the Oracles take away the memories that everyone had of me, they took away the very essence of who I was.
They took away the Key.
I feel Connor fall into step beside me and I allow myself to relax, pointedly ignoring the butterflies that have invaded my stomach. Glancing at him, my breath catches in my throat as I watch the moonlight reflect off his hair. I notice that he finally cut it. Not too short, which is good. But, he definitely had it trimmed.
Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I attempt to make small talk. However, I soon realize that asking him about people that I shouldn't know only seems to freak him out. So, I bite my tongue, sigh heavily, and continue the walk in silence.
After what seems like an eternity, we reach the diner. Walking inside, I offer a small smile and wave to the waitress, Suzie, then promptly move to my usual booth. I notice the look of surprise she gives me when Connor sits across from me, but I pointedly ignore it. I know that I'll have a ton of questions to answer later. Right now, though, I have more important things to worry about.
I wait until our drinks are sitting in front of us and Suzie has disappeared in the back before I dare glance at Connor. Biting my lip, I try to think of something, anything, to say that isn't going to freak him out. But, I just draw a blank. So, I just look away, deciding that, if he wants to know something, he'll ask me. Of course, knowing him, he'll just sit in silence until he has to leave. He always was too stubborn for his own good.
Apparently he's not as stubborn as he used to be, because before I've even finished my first cup of coffee, he's locked his intense gaze on me and is obviously planning on speaking. Clamping my hands together to prevent them from shaking, I stare at him, willing my heart to keep beating. After a second, he clears his throat. Then, he quietly asks me to tell him everything.
So, I do.
I tell him about my origins, Glory, Buffy's death and resurrection, and the collapse of the Scooby Gang. I tell him about meeting him for the first time, about the love we shared and the things we did. I watch as he blushes when I describe our first time together and I can't help but smile.
However, my smile fades and tears fill my eyes as I tell him about the demon that attacked him. I tell him how I killed him to protect myself and Angel. I even tell him about those months spent with Angel, lost in a sea of mutual misery and despair, and about the price that the Oracles made me pay.
When I finish, the sun is starting to rise, and I've drank so much coffee I feel as if I may bounce right out of my skin. And, even though I feel like my bladder is about to explode, I refuse to leave the table. Because, I know if I do, he won't be here when I get back.
Therefore, I ignore the discomfort and focus on Connor, trying to guess what his reaction will be. Will he laugh? Run? Hate me? A million scenarios run through my mind, but none prepare me for what he does.
Reaching across the table, he takes a hold of my hand, turning it over. Looking at my wrist, he raises his eyes to mine, a frown on his face. I feel his fingers begin moving against my skin and I suddenly realize what's going on.
He's looking at the scars.
Embarrassed, I attempt to pull my hand away, refusing to look at him. However, he tightens his grip, refusing to let go. So, sighing in resignation, I force myself to meet his gaze, already knowing what he's going to ask.
To my shock, he doesn't question the scars that run across my wrists and forearms. Instead, he gives me a smile so full of kindness that it causes my heart to ache. Then, he lets go of my hand, murmurs a quiet thank you, and rises to his feet.
My heart sinking, I watch as he heads for the door. Biting the inside of my cheek, I refuse to let the tears fall until he's gone. He may be able to break my heart, but I'll be damned if I'm going to give him the satisfaction of seeing it. Suddenly, he stops, glancing back at me. Smiling, he holds his hand out to me in an obvious invitation.
As if in slow motion, I stand. Throwing some money on the table, I move to him, placing my hand in his. I smile shyly, unable to believe what's happening.
I'm finally going home.
Happier than I've been in a long time, I let him lead me out of the diner and down the street. We don't speak, just enjoy the comfort that comes with being next to one another.
I ignore the voice inside of me that's screaming this is too good to be true, wanting to believe that, just this once, I'll have a happy ending. After all, I've certainly earned it.
That decided, I allow myself to enjoy the moment, a genuine smile filling my face. Crossing the street to the hotel, I'm practically skipping with joy. Granted, I know that it's not going to be easy. I still have to convince everyone else that I'm telling the truth. But, with Connor by my side, I know that I can do it.
However, the minute we enter the hotel, I feel all my hopes disappear. Everyone is sitting in the lobby, furious expressions on their faces. Swallowing, I try to back away, only to be stopped by Connor's hand squeezing my own.
Feeling some of my confidence return, I straighten my shoulders, meeting Angel's irate gaze. I see his eyes flash yellow, yet I refuse to allow my fear to show, putting all of my faith in the man standing beside me.
Finally, in a voice that leaves no room for argument, Angel tells Connor to step away from me. For a moment, I'm filled with a mind numbing terror. What if he does what Angel says? He did that night in the alley. Why not now?
I should have known not to doubt him. If there is one thing Connor prides himself on, it's his honor. And, now that he no longer sees me as a threat, honor dictates that he protect me. However, I still can't help the sigh of relief when he shakes his head, meeting his father's glare.
No one speaks as reality sinks in. Connor and Angel continue to face off, neither willing to back down, and I take that moment to look around the lobby, trying to gauge the severity of the situation.
Suddenly, I see movement out of the corner of my eye and I turn my head, my eyes widening in horror and disbelief. The demon that I witnessed Connor kill all those months ago is standing by the French doors, a crossbow in his hands. It takes me a second to realize that the demon is just another of the same breed, probably out for revenge.
Slowly, I reach for the knife I keep in my waistband, intending on protecting the only friends and family I've ever known. However, it must have seen me move and it quickly focuses its attention on me. Everything else fades away as I watch it squeeze the trigger. Unable to move, I'm frozen in place as the bolt flies through the air. Then, the unthinkable happens.
Connor steps in front of me.
Silence fills the hotel as he falls to the ground, the bolt sticking out of his chest. Then, there's screaming and I scramble to his side, tears pouring down my cheeks. Cradling his head in my lap, I stare into his pain filled eyes, willing him to hold on.
I hear Angel come up behind me and I look up at him, ignoring the blood that stains his hands. Paying no attention to the decapitated head lying a few feet away, I silently plead with him to help his son.
Nodding, he kneels beside me, holding Connor's hand. I watch as his vamp face emerges and, without looking away from the scene, I order Fred to get the curse out of the safe in the basement.Suddenly, Connor realizes what's going on. Shaking his head, he tries to speak around the blood that's filling his mouth, telling us not to. Horrified, I watch Angel stop, nodding in understanding. However, before I can do anything to change their minds, Connor slumps against me, his mouth moving silently with his final words of love for his family.
Then, he's gone.
I gently stroke his hair a rock back and forth as sobs rack my body. My mind is a jumble, images and memories flashing before my eyes like pictures in a slide show. The first time I saw Connor smile, heard his laugh, and felt his touch. The joy he felt when training with Angel, the two of them grinning from ear to ear, acting like little boys. The safety and comfort I felt when we kissed.
Each image, startling in its clarity, rises up to greet me, seeming to mock me with the happiness attached. Finally, unable to take it anymore, I stand up, slowly backing away. As I reach the door, Angel looks up, blood-tears staining his pale cheeks. As our eyes meet, I can see the realization that he's just experienced.
I was telling the truth the entire time.
However, I'm too far gone to bother with a smug nod, or even a whispered ‘I told you so'. Instead, I merely turn on my heel and head back into the night, preferring to be alone with my memories and despair than surrounded by people that have no memory of me.
To them, I'm just some girl with delusions, someone helpless who needs saving. The thing that they haven't realized, that they may never realize is, I'm not the one who needs rescuing. Connor already did that. He gave me back something that I thought I'd lost forever. My self respect. He took one look at into my eyes and believed in me, even when I didn't believe in myself.
He made me feel human again.
So, with that knowledge in mind, I go back to my apartment and begin packing my things. There's nothing keeping me in LA anymore. I can go wherever I want, see whatever I want. And, who knows? Maybe along the way, I'll find someone who will accept me for me, just like Connor did.
After all, if I've survived everything else that life has thrown my way, I can survive this too.