Sins Of The Father

By DM Evans

Chapter Eleven

And he looks at me in wonder
And he looks at me in fear
Wrestling with his anger
His pride and stony tears
To place me in his life
Will be hard and slow
Does he want it need it
I might never know
The boy feels strange
Oh the boy has changed

The Boy Feels Strange ­ Melissa Etheridge

Angel waved a hand and Gunn, Fred and Faith fanned out. He’d rather had had Wesley in Fred’s place but the S’Vear priestess needed him to help her ready part of the spell. They weren’t just going for banishing this time. They planned on destroying the Beast. To that end, they were stalking an Ocopim demon. They’d need its horn as a weapon.

He was having a hard time concentrating on tracking this demon. His mind was too full of extraneous garbage. Well, it wasn’t garbage actually. Most of it was important to him personally but it was an unwanted distraction at this point.

Cordelia was still getting very sick. The doctor said she had a severe form of morning sickness. He didn’t know what to think about it yet. Connor was too young to be a father, provided they vanquished the Beast and if they failed it wouldn’t be a world worthy of bringing a child into. He hadn’t asked Cordy if she even planned on keeping his grandchild. He didn’t want to know. He wasn’t ready for the idea of an abortion, except of course, if the child did turn out to be demonic. Of all things to happen, he hadn’t counted on this and was thoroughly unprepared for its reality.

He was surprised he wasn’t angrier at Cordelia. The anger seemed to have drained out of him. He was more disappointed than anything. Cordelia should have known better. He knew Connor didn’t. No one would have taught him about safe sex or even when the right time to have sex was. Of course, a case could be made that fire raining down, the end of the world might count as the right time since there wouldn’t be more time.

“Sounds like fighting up ahead,” Faith said, her lips parting in a wicked smile.

“Damn, I thought we had that demon cornered inside,” Gunn said, peering into the warehouse. He hefted his axe in anticipation.

“It might be trying to make for the sewers,” Angel said. “Let’s go before it gets away.”

“Yeah, but what’s stopping it?” Faith asked, twirling a stake like a baton between her fingers. “This thing’s been leaving a body trail a mile wide.”

Angel’s face went contemplative. “I’m thinking I know who’s slowing it down. Like Wes said, Connor’s likely to show up where the fighting’s the worst.”

“We should be so lucky,” Fred said, taking a bolt out of her pocket, loading her crossbow.

“Looks like we are,” Gunn said, pointing to the thing that looked like a gigantic satyr. One of its hooves connected with Connor’s gut, propelling him across the floor.

“Kill it any way you can,” Angel said, a grim expression on his face.

Fred let fly with her crossbow. The bolt sunk into the demon’s shoulder. Howling, it spun and clattered towards her. Gunn whirled in with his hubcap axe, burying it in the thing’s hip. It knocked him halfway across the room. Angel, Faith and Connor swarmed it from three different directions. Once they were on it, it couldn’t free itself. It was clumsy at close range. Angel manhandled it into a headlock, preventing it from getting its horns down, leaving Connor and Faith free to hack it to pieces. Faith’s stake proved useless but she had a hefty knife more than able to do the work.

Father and son stood over the corpse, glaring at one another. Like two wolves they signaled their intent, their search for dominance, with body language. Fred had her crossbow at the ready as if expecting to turn it on them to prevent a fight. A trickle of blood ran down Connor’s chin. Angel saw he was wearing his bandolier of trophies. He had thought Connor had lost it. He and Faith had managed to convince Connor to give up the human ear but it looked like Connor had replaced it with some new demon parts. Why did his son need that for? Proof of his abilities or something more sinister?

“Faith, could you get the horn,” Angel said, not taking his eyes off Connor. Angel’s body didn’t relax in the least. He sensed an imminent attack. Connor’s lips skinned back.

Faith, knife drawn, stepped between them. She pressed the hilt into Angel’s hand. “Get it yourself.” She turned to face Connor, aware of his hostility. Still, she felt confident she could manipulate him. Boys were easy. “And you, we’re getting that horn to kill the Beast. We could use your help. Are you in or should be we just not count on you at all?” she snapped.

The fight drained out of Connor so quickly it was stunning. Pain filled his big eyes and his full lips parted slightly falling into that half-opened, bewildered look he had. He stubbornly glanced at Angel who was sawing off the horn then up at Fred who still had her weapon pointing in his general direction. “I want to help but I’m not sure everyone agrees you need me.”

“We don’t have the time to argue with you, Connor,” Angel said. “The Beast knows by now we have one of the priestesses. He knows he can’t let her live. We’ll stand a much better chance with you there to help.”

Connor lifted his chin, shaking his hair back over his shoulders. “Maybe I’d do better out here, putting out fires.”

Angel stood back up, horn in hand. He gave Faith back her knife. She wiped it on her gore spattered pant leg before sheathing it. “There’s too much demon activity, Connor. No one could handle that many battles. Once we defeat the Beast, we’ll be able to clean out the city. Karan, the priestess, said once the Beast is killed all its energies will be released and the spell should reverse.”

Connor just glared, staying mute. Angel tried to put a hand on his shoulder but Connor jerked away. His anger and fear crackled in the air. Angel could almost taste it in the back of his throat.

“Connor, I’m sorry about all those terrible things Angelus said to you,” Angel said, regretting he didn’t have more privacy for this talk. His friends gave no signs of understanding he wanted to be alone with his son or maybe they just didn’t trust him and Connor not to kill each other.

“Since when have I ever cared what you say? No need to apologize. You were just being your true self,” Connor said. The chill in his voice frostbit everyone. Angel dropped his gaze, incredibly hurt.

“Connor, don’t say things like that,” Fred scolded, her crossbow no longer at the ready. She shook a bony finger at him. “Angel is doing what he has to, to save us again. He’s a champion and he deserves some respect.”

“Stop saying that!” Connor yelled, his pale face purpling with rage. His whole body quivered with the effort to restrain himself. “You guys keep bantering that word around until it’s lost all meaning.”

Fred huddled in on herself against the venom in his voice. Her puppy eyes held a deep fear as if expecting a good punch in the face. “Connor, you don’t mean that.”

“Shut up, Fred. You’re always telling me what to do and what to think,” Connor snarled, stalking over to her. “Living at the hotel was the longest three months of my life since I had to listen to you all the time.”

“Don’t you talk to her like that.” Gunn shoved Connor away from Fred who struggled not to cry.

Connor growled and shoved him back hard enough to land Gunn on his backside. Angel grabbed his son and shook him.

“Never do that, Connor! You can’t lose your temper that way,” Angel bellowed then took a deep breath. He felt more lost than he ever had except maybe once or twice with the sorrow shrouding his and Buffy’s life together. He despaired of he and his son ever having anything but tragedy between them. He could see it roiling in like storm clouds. He started again more gently. “You can’t forget you’re stronger than normal humans, son. You could seriously hurt someone without meaning to.”

Connor sagged a bit under his father’s hands. “I’m sorry. I’m just…”

“Yeah, we’re all just a little something at this point,” Gunn said as Faith helped him up. Angel was relieved Gunn didn’t sound too angry. He hoped his friends understood how dangerous inciting Connor could be.

“We’d better get back to the Hyperion. Wes will need a little back up if something comes for the priestess. Lorne isn’t much of a fighter,” Angel said.

“Cordy isn’t there?” Connor asked, a hint of real concern in his voice.

“She’s there but she’s been…sick,” Angel said, not willing to tell Connor more. He couldn’t even imagine how the news would be broken to the boy. “Come back with us, Connor. There’s plenty of room for you to stay. You don’t even have to be near any of us.”

“No!” Connor pulled away from Angel, wrapping his slender arms around his chest protectively. “I’m not staying there.”

“Fine, but at least come back now so you can hear the plan. I’m going to give you my cell phone. Cordy can show you how to work it. This way you can stay where you feel comfortable and we can still be in touch quickly, okay?” Angel asked, trying to keep the pain and despondency out of his voice. Connor was never going to trust him again.

Connor nodded. “Okay.”

***

The tension hadn’t lessened any by the time they returned to the hotel. The street the Hyperion dominated was empty, as if the demons knew to stay away. If they listened they could hear people dying not far away. The stench of death perfumed the night. Connor sniffed the air looking at the building. “It smells like lightning.”

“A by-product of the protection spell,” Fred said, then chanted a series of words.

The invisible shell around the hotel turned a shimmering green and parted like a stage curtain. They found everyone in Wesley’s office. Wes was bent over a thick tome that put a distinct odor of dust and mildew in the air. A thirty-something woman with long blonde hair sat next to him, equally involved with the text. Cordelia was curled up in a chair, a note pad on her knee. Loren seemed engrossed in his Seabreeze.

“You got it?” Wesley asked, seeing the bloody, tattered team.

Angel put the horn on the desk. “Got it.”

Cordy got up, seeing Connor staring at her intently. “I’m glad you came back, sweetie.”

He crossed over to her, putting a hand, rusty with blood, on her shoulder. His blue eyes had concern captured in them like a leaf in amber. “Dad said you were sick.”

“I’ve felt better.” She hugged him, feeling his trophy bandolier grind into her. He embraced her back, which was the best sign of forgiveness she had had from him.

“I don’t know how to make you feel better. I’ve never been sick,” he said, taking a step back, still in her arms but leaving a gap between their bodies like a bubble of protection.

Cordelia smiled. “That’s sweet and it makes me feel a little better.” She stroked his hair. “But you’re wearing this gross thing again.” She pointed at the bandolier.

He caressed it protectively. “Needed something that was mine.”

“Connor.” Angel waved him over to Wesley’s desk, trying not to think about what Connor had just said and done. There was something off about looking to a string of demon parts as a security blanket. “I want you to meet Karan. Her sister and family were the ones the Beast killed. Karan, this is my son, the one we were telling you about.”

Karan smiled wearily. “Hello, Connor.”

Connor gave her a shy look that took Angel by surprise. It was nice to see an emotion other than sullen anger on his boy’s face. “I’m sorry about your family.”

She rubbed a hand over her face as if trying to banish that pain. “Thank you.”

“Karan, what do we need for this to work?” Angel asked.

“Wesley and I are working on the spell’s translation.” Karan gestured to the notepad where Cordelia had been scribbling down what they had rendered into English. “ Fred, we could use your help. We have to get this done so you and Wes can help me with the spell. I need some help gathering things to bless the horn and to weave in spells for protection, success, courage and strength.” Karan nibbled her lip. “Might as well weave in some elements to help banish his evil, too.”

“What do we need to get?” Angel asked.

“Yarrow, chili pepper, mistletoe, myrrh, nettle, cinnamon, dragon’s blood, sage, High John the Conqueror and coffee. Hmmm, and how about a little Irish Moss for luck. You can find most of it around the kitchen and the rest you can get in just about any magic shop. There’s probably a lot open for the looting at this point. I probably have it all at home.”

“That might be too risky. Surely the Beast has some sort of demon watching the place, hoping you’ll return,” Wesley said and Karan nodded.

“And there’s one more thing needed to charge the horn in order to make it work, vampire dust,’ Karan said.

“That’s easy.” Connor smiled at Angel so coldly the vampire was put in mind of Bedlam asylum and a long stay in chains for his son.

Angel glared in warning. “Connor and Faith can get you that, Karan, anything else?”

“Not in the way of supplies. What we need is a plan, especially for how to protect Wesley, Fred and I while we do the spell. Angel, I’m assuming you’ll be wielding the horn as a weapon,” Karan said. “We have to discover a way to find the Beast before he tracks us down. It’s better if we set the ambush needless to say.”

“Yeah, but how do we do that?” Gunn asked, then his eyes leveled on Connor. “It seems to show up wherever Connor is.”

“Are you suggesting using my son as bait?” Angel asked, his eyes narrowing. He didn’t know why he felt so protective of a son who hated him passionately but this was his blood and he’d defend it.

“I’m saying he already is, provided that’s all he is,” Gunn said.

Connor showed him his teeth, like a wolf ready to attack. “I’m not connected with this thing. It’s shown up long before I was ever born. It’s only interested in me because….” Connor wrinkled his nose. “I don’t even know why. Maybe it thinks I’m a way to Angelus.”

“Whatever the reason, the Beast does seem to home in on you, Connor and we can use that.” Angel hated doing this. He knew Connor could handle himself but not against the Beast. Could he give up his child’s life to save the world?

“It’s another reason for you to stay here at home, with us,” Cordelia said.

Connor shook his head violently. “No.”

“Connor, sweetie, this isn’t the time to be unreasonable,” Cordelia said, taking his hand.

“He will be,” Lorne put in. “He doesn’t need to sing for me to see that.”

“You don’t even try to read me,” Connor snarled, pulling free of Cordelia. “And I’m not staying here. This is a lousy place to fight.”

“He’s right,” Faith said. “Too many rooms, not that this thing is big on hiding and sneak attacks but still. We’d want to try to take him on somewhere more open and where he doesn’t have the option of pitching us off a high roof.”

“And we need a safe base of operations. I’d rather not compromise the hotel more than it already has been,” Angel said. “I agree with you, Connor. You need to go. You have my cell phone. We’ll use it like we talked about. Cordelia, show him how to use it.”

“Okay.” Cordelia looked at Connor. “You do have a safe place to stay?”

“You aren’t with Anne, are you?” Faith asked. “I know I said you should go there but not if you’re in the middle of a shit storm.”

“No, I was afraid that the Beast would find me again so I decided not to stay there. I’m somewhere safe…only it’s not a great place to fight either. I’ll have to find something else,” Connor said.

“How safe is where you are now?” Angel was just thrilled Connor was cooperating at all. He could see the exhaustion in the boy’s eyes and that had to be making him snappier than normal.

“Safe enough but it’s not like the Beast couldn’t break in anywhere.” Connor’s nose wrinkled at that thought.

“You’re tired. I can see it in your eyes. When’s the last time you slept?” Angel asked.

Connor shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Either sack out here once we’re done with the plans for just an hour or two or go back to your new place. Once you’ve rested, you can move to a better place to lure the Beast to,” Angel said, hoping that wasn’t the wrong thing to do. Connor had a point though. No place was really very safe and his son was about to collapse from fatigue. The boy just nodded his consent.

“Why don’t we leave Karan, Wes, Fred and Cordy to this translating business and the rest of us go somewhere else to talk out the plans?” Faith suggested.

No one needed to be told twice. Gunn and Lorne filed out of the room. Connor paused, looking at Cordelia intently.

Aware of his scrutiny, she asked, “Is something wrong, Connor?”

His eyes slotted. “I don’t know. Something about you seems different.”

“Just a little ill is all.” Cordelia shot Angel a panicked look.

Connor saw it and rolled his eyes, misinterpreting it as her attentions being back with his father again. Angel tried to ignore it, wondering if Connor had actually picked up on something or if it was just Cordelia’s unusually wan look. He knew Lorne sensed the pregnancy probably in the same manner he knew about the night of conception. Cordelia had told Fred and Faith this morning but the rest didn’t know yet. He wished she hadn’t told anyone but he could understand her need for some support in this tough spot. She and he had talked some more about it. He was half-expecting her to be looking to him to help her raise the child if she had it. Considering the resentful looks his son was giving him, Angel could imagine how badly that would go over. Once again, he tried to shove his personal life back into a dark corner and concentrate on the far more dire business at hand.

Chapter Twelve

Hah, well, I ain't no good to no one no how, not right now
'Cause I forgot to run myself and I got run down
Do I look like something you can put in a fuckin' cage?!
Come over here and gimme a kiss
Yeah, I'm startin' to see
Yeah, I do believe
Better keep your distance
From this tangled shape i'm in
Now no one had better touch me right now
In this cold-blooded thick skin
Better, well, well
Now I said you better run real fast
When you hear that rattlin' sound
Oh I said you better run real fast
Or this one's gonna knock you down.

Rattlesnake Smile ­ Kane

“I can’t believe I told you where to find me,” Connor groused, sparing a hostile look for the group outside the large doors of an abandoned church. Brilliant graffiti decorated the outside but somehow there was still an unsoiled, if stale, air of sanctity inside the building. The statuary was still inside the church, adding a forbidding, forlorn look to the solemn place. All things of value like candle holders, censors and chalices had either been stolen or taken when the church was closed.

“Cordelia had a vision. She saw the Beast attacking you in a church,” Angel said. “We weren’t sure if we could beat it here. At least you answered the phone.” He looked around at the battered pews and the still intact stained glass. “This isn’t much better than the hotel for fighting.”

“It’s downright creepy,” Faith said, her lips pulling down into a scowl. “Why did you pick here to live?”

“Not too far from Anne’s haven if she needed me. No one bothers with it and it’s got a safe place to sleep.” Connor pointed to the choral loft.

“When we get through this, Connor, we’re going to talk about getting you a proper place to live,” Angel said, thoughts inspired by Faith’s concerns flooded his mind. Faith had shared her thoughts on Connor being a little too much like she had been at his age. Angel shared her fears. Connor had been ‘sick,’ as Cordelia and Lorne once put it, from the energies of Quor-toth. What if Cordy’s fix was only temporary? What if his upbringing there had scarred him too badly? Or maybe he was just frightened and alone and that made him act out. Angel was hoping it was the latter. They could work through that.

“Do you want me to go? Lure it some place more open?” Connor asked.

“No,” Karan said. “There is a tremendous amount of energy in this building, positive energy. Prayer does tend to generate that. We can use it to protect ourselves from the Beast.”

“Do you need to be close to the Beast for the spell to work, Karan, or can we hide you some place safer?” Angel asked.

“As much as I’d like to be elsewhere casting the spell, that’s not going to work,” she admitted, brushing back her long hair. “But we could try to at least take shelter in one of the side rooms.”

“The sacristy,” Wesley suggested, pointing to a room off the main room. He went around the altar and peered inside. “There’s a sink but I doubt there’s still running water.”

“No lights, no water,” Connor said.

“We won’t need it. We can use the sink as a makeshift cauldron,” Karan said. “Fred, why don’t you and I get started on that.”

Fred nodded and went into the sacristy carrying the bundle of twigs they had carted along for the spell casting. Wesley went with them to help ready the spell.

“What do we do now?” Connor turned back to his father.

“You, me, Faith and Gunn need to keep the Beast busy until the spell is cast. Karan said this will turn a deep red with it’s ready.” Angel shook the horn, which had been lashed to a long, slender piece of piping. The horn glittered greenish, which it hadn’t done before.

“What happened to it?” Connor gestured at it.

“The vampire dust added the first layer of spell or something like that.” Angel shrugged. “When it goes red, this has to go in the Beast’s head or heart.”

“And that’s your job? What if you fail?” Connor persisted. Angel frowned at the suggestion that he could fail. Faith just wagged her head.

“Then you try, or Faith or Gunn. Any of us should be able to do it. We just need to keep the Beast distracted without dying,” Angel said.

“And Cordy’s still sick?” Connor seemed distinctly unhappy about that.

Faith nodded. “She’s at the hotel with Lorne.”

“You left her there unprotected?” Connor snapped.

“Loren’s there,” Faith repeated.

Connor snorted. “He’s useless. He’s no good in a fight. All he does is drink and tell us junk we really don’t need.”

“Connor,” Angel hissed in warning.

The boy subsided with a pout. “I don’t like it.”

“Neither do I.” Angel patted Connor’s back. “But we need our warriors here.”

Connor rolled his eyes. “Okay.”

“How many rooms are in this place, Connor?” Gunn glanced around trying to take stock of the potential battlefield.

“The one they just went in and there’s one on the other side of the altar, too. Then there are those three little booths.” Connor pointed at the confessionals off the sacristy. “The room behind the glass wall under the loft.” He nodded back at the cry room. “And downstairs there’s a big room the size of the church, like a meeting room and kitchen. There are bathrooms down there. There’s a door downstairs, the doors you came through plus a door off either room by the altar. I’ve barricaded them all but the main doors. I’m not sure that would stop the Beast. It was more to keep others out.”

Angel nodded. “We all stay here then. There’s not enough of us to cover everyplace and it’s not likely the Beast will enter quietly.” He looked at his son. “A church? Surely there were better places, Connor.”

The boy shrugged. “I’ve said why. And maybe…I was wondering if the Beast could get in here. Or you for that matter,” Connor said sharply and Angel cast an uneasy eye at the larger than life crucifix still hanging behind the altar. “Or the bastard son of two demons. I thought maybe I’d just burn up coming in here. Father used to read to me from the Bible but I’ve never seen a real church. I always wanted to go but I was afraid. I didn’t have a place there. I mean, I might be part demon, too.”

Angel saw the sadness in his son’s eyes. He hated that his son considered himself in part demonic but he also knew it might be the truth. He touched Connor’s cheek and felt him flinch. “You have a place and when this is over we can explore that.”

Connor just eyed him suspiciously then his head snapped around facing the front of the church.

“What is it?” Gunn asked, knowing that look.

“It’s coming,” Connor said and Angel nodded.

“Wes, Fred, Karan, it’s near,” Faith called.

“I can feel it,” Karan called back. A pungent smoke wafted out of the sacristy as she heaped herbs onto the fire.

A loud knock sounded at the front doors. They all stared at each other, marveling over the fact that the demon would knock and think one of them would be foolish enough to answer the door.

“I know you don’t have to invite this thing in like a vampire,” Gunn said. “It’s gotten into too many places for that.”

“Maybe it just thinks we’re stupid.” Faith shrugged, tossing her hair.

When a second knock didn’t lure anyone over to the doors, they crashed down with a bang that reverberated through the church. Chanting started in the sacristy barely loud enough to be heard. Faith, Angel, Gunn and Connor separated, lining up along the altar railing of brass-toned iron and marble. The Beast clomped in, the red lines suggesting lava rock seeming brighter than their last visit, as if it had been drawing energy from somewhere. Angel was reminded of the last thing Angelus had offered up, the Beast was a minion and they still didn’t know whose.

It managed something close to a smile. “Angelus, still not interested in taking me up on my offer to rule in the darkness?”

“Wasn’t interested two hundred years ago and I’m still not,” Angel said, charging the demon. He knew he couldn’t hurt it yet. The spear was slung around his back. He was depending on a claymore for this attack, only hoping the sword didn’t break immediately. Connor had told him how he lost a sword on his first strike once already. The claymore bounced off the creature’s hard skin and the Beast batted Angel away.

“Is that a priestess I hear?” The demon chuckled. “I know how to kill them now.” It started up the aisle toward the sacristy.

Gunn shouldered the sawed-off shotgun he had acquired, taking aim at the Beast’s face. The blast hit it squarely, ricocheting shot all over the church. The demon grunted in pain as the soft bits of its eyes were punctured. Red gel oozed down his face but the orbs seemed to seal immediately. Faith and Connor charged it together while it was stunned. Faith’s blade shattered on the Beast’s chest and it caught her with one hand. Using the other, it turned Connor’s momentum against him and catapulted him up against the choir loft. Connor’s back and head took the brunt, hitting the wood so hard it split. He slithered down it and fell several feet to the floor.

“Connor!” Angel screamed, picking himself up from the pew he had been tossed into. Connor lay motionless, moaning softly.

“I can’t get another shot off without hitting Faith,” Gunn said, trying to find an angle for his shotgun.

Faith managed to snag one of her stakes and rammed it straight into the Beast’s vulnerable eye. Howling, it flung her half way to the altar before clawing the stake free. As with the buckshot, the stake’s wound seemed only temporary. Lights flickered from the sacristy as the chanting grew louder. Sharp, bitter smoke boiled out of it.

The Beast started for the sacristy again. Gunn, tossing aside the shotgun, slammed it with his axe. Sparks flew and the creature backhanded him away like a fly. Gunn’s head thumped against a pew, leaving him dazed. Seeing Connor getting back to his feet, Angel swung his claymore at the demon. The Beast turned faster than he thought possible for its size, catching the blade with a horn, yanking it free of Angel’s hands. The Beast caught the vampire’s arms and started pulling as if it were making a Thanksgiving wish. Faith, armed with a heavy statue of the Christ child, used it like a battering ram to the back of the Beast’s head. It shattered, raining plaster down to the tiled floor. The demon let go of one of Angel’s arms so he could land a punch to Faith’s midriff.

“Dad, jump!”

Hearing his son’s command, Angel leapt up, his still captured arm twisting painfully at the shoulder as he wrapped his legs around the Beast’s neck. Connor, belly down on the slick tile, slid into the space Angel had been standing in, one of the kneelers clutched in his hands. He crashed into the Beast’s hoofed feet with it, taking advantage of the creature’s rather unwieldy stance. Unbalanced, the Beast went down, losing his hold on Angel who vaulted over him but couldn’t catch his balance to land well. He flattened Connor, who had managed to roll out of the Beast’s crash site.

“Get off me! You’re heavy,” Connor screamed, trying to wiggle free. Angel twisted off of him and gave him a hand up.

“Are they almost done with that spell?” Faith asked, helping Gunn to his feet. The young man swayed, still groggy.

Angel peered over his shoulder at the horn and shook his head. He looked for something beat on the Beast with while it was down. Crushing it with a pew sounded satisfying but he didn’t want piles of splintered wood for a handy weapon for the Beast. He spotted his claymore and raced for it while Connor whaled on the demon with the kneeler. Faith took Gunn’s axe, hacking at the creature. All three weapons ended up shattered without making much of a dent in the Beast’s stony hide.

The Beast slammed his hands down on the tiled floor and fire blazed out of them. The old, dried wood of the pews caught fire almost immediately. Angel, Connor and Faith fell back, frantically trying to get away from the flames.

Gunn yelled towards the sacristy. “Hurry it up. He’s set the place on fire.”

The demon rumbled with laughter again. “I was only expecting your spawn, Angelus. There are those who would give anything to have him. But it’s more fun with all of you. It makes my work easier. How did you know I’d be here?” it asked, turning towards the sacristy once more. “Did your seer tell you? I guess my little welcoming party hasn’t gotten to her yet.”

“Cordy,” Connor whispered.

“Ignore him, son. He’s trying to rattle you,” Angel said, hoping that was the truth. He grabbed part of the altar railing and tore it free from its moorings. He slammed it against the beast, trying to bear it backwards. Faith helped him.

The Beast took hold of the metal and used it to sling vampire and Slayer back towards the cry room. Gunn found his shotgun again and emptied the remaining shell without much damage being done. He knew better than to charge the Beast so he circled away as best he could. Connor ran for the altar and leapt up onto the hanging crucifix. As Angel and Faith tried to scramble back to the Beast, Connor grabbed the chain holding one side of the huge crucifix up and pulled. It gave way as the Beast came to a halt at the sacristy door. The crucifix swung out away from the wall, Connor still standing on it. The beast didn’t notice, too intent on what was happening in the sacristy. Connor could hear the voices still raised in chant. He could feel the power building inside. It made his hair stand on end.

“Priestess, there’ll be no banishing me this time,” the Beast promised.

Connor pulled the remaining chain free, kicking away from the wall violently. He rode crucifix down. It crashed into the Beast, the sheer weight and velocity bearing the demon to the floor. Connor tucked and rolled away from it. The chanting stopped and the only sounds where that of the fire consuming the church and that of Faith and Gunn coughing. Thick smoke was filling the place.

“You’re right, demon, there’ll be no banishing,” Wesley said, stepping from the sacristy. “Now Angel.”

Angel tore the spear off his back. The horn blazed red. As the Beast fought free of the crucifix, Angel jumped on the cross, feeling the touch of it interacting with him. He figured it took either a foolhardy vampire or a stupid one to stand on a nine-foot cross but that gave him the best advantage for stabbing the Beast. Maybe the big crucifix wouldn’t hurt him, at least not much. He shoved the horn deep into the Beast. The natural blade slipped in like a stick through marshmallow. The Beast shrieked and managed to buck Angel off. It clawed wildly at its back, trying to get the spear free. Faith and Connor both got their hands around the spear and propelled it all the way through into the floorboards. The Beast exploded in a shower of rock and something like lava. Faith and Connor both howled, pelted with the stuff. Their clothing caught fire. Faith yanked her jacket off, beating the flames out of her hair. Angel suffered a similar fate, his duster almost a total loss. Wesley knocked Connor down, rolling him over to extinguish his clothing.

“We have to get the hell out of here,” Gunn said.

“No, first we have to get the mystical parts of the Ratet that the Beast stole,” Karan said. “We need them to reverse the spell. It’s not doing it on its own. I can feel it. Nothing’s changed.” She started scrabbling through the bits of the Beast’s body, which still smoldered.

They quickly came up with the orb and metal winged parts along with a strange knife the Beast had with it. They fled the burning church but couldn’t run too far between the beating they had taken and smoke inhalation.

“My home burned down again,” Connor said quietly, watching as fire started licking along the high peaked roof of the church. He clutched his bandolier, which he somehow managed not to lose.

“Tonight the hotel’s home,” Angel said wearily, looking up at the sky. “You’re right. It’s still night, though I think it actually is supposed to be.”

“I think we can reverse it with these.” Karan patted the orb she held then looked at it oddly. “Wait, they’ve changed. From what I’ve read and the stories told through the centuries, these should have had Egyptian writing on it but they don’t. It’s something older.”

Wesley peered at them. “It looks Sumerian.”

“Can you read Sumerian?” Gunn asked doubtfully.

Wesley shook his head. “Not too well but maybe enough to translate this.”

“It’s not exactly Sumerian either,” Karan said, “It’s not quite that old but close. It’s the language the priestesses use in our rites. From what I see here, this has been touched, intentionally or not, by the thing controlling the Beast. We have to translate this and find out what that is.”

“I can’t help with stuff like that,” Connor said. “I have to be sure Cordelia’s okay.” He took off down the street.

“Connor, wait for us,” Angel called but his son didn’t stop. He took a few steps after him then halted. He didn’t have the luxury of just racing off. “Gunn, take your truck and head back. Make sure Cordy’s okay.”

“I’m not sure I’m good to drive. I’m still seeing double from that shot to the head.” He glanced over at Fred. “Maybe you should drive.”

“I probably ought to help translate,” she said without thinking then frowned, seeing Gunn’s hostile look.

Wesley noted it, too. “It’s all right, Fred. Karan is the only one who has a real shot at translating it correctly. Make sure Cordelia’s okay. Maybe you ought to drop Gunn off at one of the hospitals that’s still open.”

“I don’t need that,” he said. “But I’d appreciate the ride home.”

“Of course, Charles.” Fred took his hand and led him off towards his truck.

“Maybe we shouldn’t just stand here by a big fire,” Faith said, her head whipping around toward the church hearing the glass exploding. There were no sirens yet. Were there any firemen left? “Just in case anyone does show up to put it out.”

“You’re probably right. You two can translate that in the car,” Angel said, leading the way to his GTX.

He drove a few blocks away to a deserted mall that still had decent flood lighting. Wesley and Karan huddled over the items in the back seat of the car. Faith looked in the rear view mirror, trying to see how badly her face was burned.

“If I’m reading this right, the Beast was somehow marked by the oldest evil and it permeated everything the Beast had, like these holy items,” Karan said.

“The First Evil?” Angel twisted to look over the seat at them. “Are you sure?”

“You know of it?” Karan asked, surprise written boldly on her tired face.

Angel’s eyes narrowed, an involuntary shudder racing through him. “It tried to turn me back into Angelus once. I guess it was looking for something evil to help it in this world.” Angel scrubbed a hand through his thick, soot-coated hair causing a fall of ash to his shoulders. “Buffy, the Slayer, helped save me. She’s fighting it again now. That’s why she couldn’t be here to help with the Beast.”

“The First Evil was keeping her there and the Beast kept you here, sounds like a good way to divide and conquer.” Faith kicked the floorboards of the GTX.

“Too good,” Angel said, his face going grim.

“And it makes sense. When you contacted Buffy, she told you about the Ubervampire. If the First was trying to make an army of the oldest of demon kind, it’s hindered by sunlight. Many of them cannot withstand it,” Wesley said, a glimmer of hope in his voice.

“And the Beast was to plunge the world into darkness, making it ready for conquer. The demons want their world back like it was in the beginning.” Angel ran a finger over his steering wheel.

“Only we stopped the spell before it spread,” Faith said proudly. “Now can we reverse it?”

Karan nodded. “We can. And I think this might just be what’s needed to destroy the First Evil.” Karan passed the knife up to Angel. “It feels like it was crafted from the Beast’s very tissues. You need to get that to the other Slayer.”

“It’s at least a two hour drive. I should take you two back to the hotel to stop the spell first.” Angel started the car.

“No need to drive. We can teleport this there. We just have to let them know to expect it and what to do with it,” Karan said.

“I have my cell phone. We can only hope someone’s home. Do you still know her number, Angel?” Wesley said, digging out his phone. Faith rolled her eyes at the mere suggestion Angel would have forgotten anything about Buffy.

Angel nodded and took it from him.

“And to undo the spell I need to be outside, somewhere clean and pure,” Karan said.

“This is L.A. I don’t think we have a place like that.” Faith shrugged.

“The ocean will do.” Karan smiled wryly.

Angel looked at the priestess. “Is it a mere matter of plunging this dagger into the First Evil? Will it kill it?”

“The First Evil really can’t be killed,” Wesley said.

“He’s right but this will banish it. There is a spell they’ll need to know,” Karan said.

“Willow and Giles can help with that. I’ll call. You fill them in,” Angel said, hoping he’d be lucky enough to find someone home.

Chapter Thirteen

Well I guess
You took my youth
I gave it all away
Like the birth of a
New-found joy
This love would end in rage
And when she died
I couldn't cry
The pride within my soul
You left me incomplete
All alone as the
Memories now unfold.
Believe the word
I will unlock my door
And pass the Cemetery Gates

Cemetery Gates ­ Pantera

 

Angel watched Wesley and Karan working the spell at the water’s edge. Faith perched on the GTX’s trunk, keeping a vigilant eye out. Neither of them expected any demon activity. The area was too deserted to be of interest. The scent of L.A. burning seemed less here, overpowered by salt and fish. Still, that was a clean smell by comparison to the city. A soft breeze lathed the sand.

Buffy had been home when he called to tell her about the First Evil and he couldn’t ever remember hearing so much tension in her voice, nor heard her so self-centered and rude, not only to him but to those in her home for whom she kept breaking off their conversation to snap at. She explained that she had a home full of Potential Slayers that she, Giles and Spike were trying to train and keep safe. He didn’t even ask why Spike was there, trusting there was a good reason for it. He told her how to use the demon knife to destroy the First Evil’s ability to manifest in this realm. He stayed on the line until Karan teleported the knife and Buffy confirmed she had received it.

Karen then called the high priestess of all the sects of S’Vear to double check the spell to reverse the constant night. During the course of that conversation the high priestess revealed more knowledge about the First Evil. It made perfect sense to Angel. He remembered what it was like to be under its control. He called Buffy again and got Giles and Willow on the phone, both colder and more self-centered than he knew was usual for them to the point of nearly brushing him off so they could get back to some petty squabble about Willow and one of the Potentials, Kennedy. Or at least that was what he assumed from what he could piece together. He hurriedly explained that it was like a psychic poisoning from the First Evil’s presence. When he had been enthralled almost no one could break though his armor of self-absorption and ‘no one knows suffering like me.’ He tried to explain to them that their anger and short tempers were all part of it and they needed to stop in-fighting and caring only about themselves if they wanted to beat the First Evil. It went over like the proverbial lead balloon but now their anger was directed at him and he could utilize that.

Karan and Wes offered a few spells and herbs to help ameliorate the worst of their symptoms. Through the sniping and honest listening, Willow let slip how bad it was; how Buffy had been more concerned about Spike’s cut lip than Xander’s gut wound; how she herself had stolen energy from her friends without permission or remorse. He tried to reassure her that it was all because of the influence of the First Evil. For their sake, he hoped he was right. Buffy caring more for the undead than a potentially mortally wounded friend was simply wrong and that had to be from some outside influence. She couldn’t be that changed, could she?

“I should have went with Gunn and Fred,” Faith said, breaking into his thoughts.

“We need you here just in case. We have to protect Wes and Karan. Reversing this spell is the most important thing,” Angel replied, distractedly.

“Even if it costs Cordelia her life?” Faith asked, examining a burn on her arm.

“The good of the many and all that,” Angel said unhappily. “This has to be undone. Connor will get to the hotel quickly, and Gunn and Fred. It’ll have to be enough.”

Faith nodded. “I don’t think I ever got this ‘whole world is depending on me stuff’ before. I just thought it was Buffy being a tight ass.” She shrugged, suggesting she still felt that way a little. “It’s a strange feeling.”

Angel scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Always is.”

Faith slid off the trunk as Karan and Wesley trudged up the sand. “Did it work?”

Wesley smiled. “We believe so.”

The tension drained out of Angel. “Wonderful. We should get back to the hotel.”

“Please, take me to my home. I still have my family to bury and I want to join the sisterhood up in San Fran,” Karan said, sagging against the car. Even that seemed like a supreme effort.

“Are you certain that’s safe?” Wesley asked.

“I’m not entirely defenseless. I’ll be fine on my own,” Karan said but the exhaustion in her eyes made it less convincing.

“We’ll take you home. Thank you,” Angel said.

“I’m just glad we were able to stop this. If only so much death hadn’t already occurred,” Karan replied, looking towards the city. She nearly collapsed. Angel caught her and put her in the car.

“At least this is an end to it,” Wesley said, brushing at his soot-choked hair.

“We hope,” Faith put in, climbing back into the car.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Connor panted hard as he stumbled to a halt in front of the hotel. His muscles trembled from exertion. His burns hurt and his whole body throbbed from the battering the Beast had inflicted. On the way he coughed up too much soot-streaked gunk from his lungs for his own peace of mind. He had avoided several lone vampires on his way. It bothered him to do so but he couldn’t lose time. Cordelia could be in trouble. He might still feel angry and hurt but he didn’t want anything bad to happen to her. Despite what she had done to him recently, he still loved her. He looked at the hotel. It was too quiet. The streets were empty and it made him nervous.

Connor tried to bound up the steps and was promptly repelled. Cursing, he rolled to his feet. He had forgotten the protective spell. Connor struggled to bring the words Fred taught him to mind. He managed it and passed through. When he got inside, Cordelia was sitting at her desk with one of the weapons he had brought from Quor-Toth, the stake launcher in her hands. She seemed to be trying to figure out how it worked.

She looked up at him, taking in his burnt, bloody clothing as she swung out from behind the desk. “You failed.” Her tone was odd, flat and devoid of emotion. She didn’t seem worried and Connor couldn’t understand how she could possible not be.

“No, we won.” Connor went over to her, gently taking her hand. “The Beast is gone.”

A strange look flickered over her face then she got up and gingerly hugged him. “Thank God.”

“Has anyone tried to get in? The Beast said he was sending something to kill you,” Connor said, glancing around the hotel lobby, even though he knew nothing had gotten past the protective spell.

Cordelia made a dismissive nose as if annoyed by his fretting. “Nothing’s happened. It’s been too quiet.”

Connor nodded, pleased, then remembered who should be here and wasn’t. “Is the green thing here?”

“Don’t say things like that about your Uncle Lorne, Connor,” Cordelia said and saw him scowled viciously. She gave him a look like a mother scolding a petulant child. “He’s upstairs resting.”

“You should be, too.” Connor stroked her arm.

She moved back a step. “I’m fine…well, maybe not fine but I couldn’t sleep, not knowing you all were out there fighting.”

Connor frowned. Couldn’t he even give her comfort any more? What had he done that was so wrong, that made her this mad at him? “Is that why you were trying to make that work?” Connor pointed to the launcher. “It’s too heavy for you and it takes practice. I wondered where it was. Fred probably had it. She likes to play with weaponry. Is my axe still here?”

“You mean that blade on an arm-cuff thing? It’s in that big box at the bottom of the closet. Fred did have it locked away. I don’t think she wanted you to have them.” Cordelia waved a hand at the weapons cabinet. Connor judged from her tone she agreed with Fred.

Connor frowned. “They’re mine.” He went and retrieved his blade, admiring the bronze-toned metal. He had missed his weapons.

“Where is Angel? Was anyone hurt?” Cordelia seemed almost hopeful at that. Connor turned at the out of place note of happiness and she quickly molded her face into one of concern.

Connor came back over to her. “We all got a little beat up but not too bad. The spell didn’t automatically reverse like they thought it would. They’re working on that now. I came here to make sure you’re all right.”

“So you abandoned them?” A horrified look flickered across Cordelia's bloated face.

Connor stared at her, not understanding the reproach in her tone. He couldn’t follow how fast her emotions changed and he wasn’t used to her criticizing him like this. “No. They’re all together and they’re fine. Someone had to make sure the Beast didn’t send assassins after you. I can’t help with spells so I ran here to make sure you were all right.”

Cordelia ran a hand along the soft curve of his cheek. He leaned into it like a cat pushing into a soothing pat. “Did Angel send you?”

“No, but he would have sent someone.” Connor shrugged expressively.

“Connor, you just can’t run off on your own all the time. You have to be more responsible,” Cordelia asked, poking his shoulder with a finger. It made his burns hurt. “You’re not a child, so don’t act like it.”

He batted her hand away. “Don’t poke me. And don’t tell me what to do. One minute you tell me I am a kid the next you tell me to grow up. You’re not my mom, Cordy. You never were, so stop acting like it.”

She picked up the stake launcher, nudging him with it. “You have no idea about what you and I used to be to each other. I don’t think it’s much to ask you too act like an adult.”

Connor yanked his weapon away from her and returned it to the closet, trying to give himself time to cool down. He could taste anger rising like bile in the back of his throat. How dare she accuse him of acting childish? “Cordy, I am acting like an adult. I came here to use my best talent, my fighting abilities. I’m where I was needed more. We had no way of knowing that you were safe. I should call Dad now and let him know.”

“Yeah, do that.” Cordelia made no effort to hand him the phone. She gestured at his bandolier. “And get rid of that nasty thing you have around your neck. I hate seeing it.”

Connor stroked the bandolier, considering arguing, but he pulled it off and put it with his stake launcher. From his pocket he took out a hunk of the Beast’s horn that he had scavenged when they were digging through its corpse bits looking for parts of the Ratet and put it with the bandolier. “Happy now?” he asked sharply.

“No, I’d be happier if you’d act like part of the team,” Cordelia shot back, tossing her hair like she still had a long luxurious mane.

Connor rolled his eyes, sighing heavily. “Can’t we just drop it? I came here thinking you needed help.”

“You can’t come riding to my rescue, Connor. I don’t need it.” Cordelia got so close to him he could feel her breath on his sensitive, burnt skin. “It doesn’t impress me. It’s over between us, you have to understand that.”

“I get it, Cordy. That’s not why I’m here.” Connor glared at her. “Faith was right. You are a bitch.”

Cordelia slapped him hard enough to split his lip. Connor fell back a step, stunned. He wiped his bleeding mouth.

“Never call me that,” she said, her hand cocking back ready to deliver another blow.

“Don’t hit me,” he said softly, shocked and hurt.

She slapped him again. “And that’s for agreeing with Faith.”

“I said don’t hit me,” he yelled this time then took a few deep breaths trying to puzzle things out. He couldn’t wrap his mind around her anger. She seemed to hate him suddenly. Cordelia had never been so mean, not to anyone. Something was wrong. “Why did you do it, Cordy? Why did you make love to me at all?”

Cordelia laughed bitterly. “That wasn’t making love, Connor. It was a pity fuck.” Her dark eyes sliced into him. A strange, whitish glow seemed to radiate from them.

Connor took another wary step back. He remembered her glowing like this before right before she sapped all the strength from him when he tried to stab her. How could she say something like that to him? Pity? The words felt like a knife across the hamstrings. His legs nearly went out from under him. His throat felt tight, almost painful, as tears streaked down his face. “That’s not true.”

Cordelia shrugged, her glow brightening. Her body tensed, seeming more menacing then should have been possible. “Maybe not entirely. It was the best way to stir things up around here so no one could concentrate. That’s what the boss wanted.”

“What are you talking about?” Connor felt like he’d been dipped in ice water. He realized he had been used horribly, that the love he still had for her was wasted.

“The Beast was working for someone.” Cordelia smiled shark-like, chilling Connor. “So am I. You weren’t supposed to win tonight. I would have been there to help make sure you didn’t but something happened that the First Evil didn’t count on. Guess the demon in me wasn’t enough to keep something like you from taking root.”

Connor shook his head. “I don’t understand. Cordy…you can’t be…you betrayed us?”

She snorted, her glow flickering on and off like a dying light bulb. “Like it was hard to do. One good roll in the hay timed just right so dear old Dad could see, easy enough when you’re a seer. Except this thing growing inside me made me too sick to help. There isn’t anyone around just now to help me get rid of it so I couldn’t be there for the big fight.”

“You’d kill us?” Connor barely managed to rasp the words out. He stumbled back, feeling like the floor was tilting out from under him.

“Killing you all would be hard. The human part of Cordy is fighting me. She was so arrogant when she allowed them to make her part demon. Like this team couldn’t make do without her visions. She thought she could control the demon. She was so wrong. Now she’s trapped inside here with me.” Cordelia grinned broadly. “Maybe that’s why I couldn’t stake Angel when I was crying on his shoulder. That’s what I wanted to do, that’s why I was boo-hooing in the first place. It would have been perfect. Angel would have been dust. You were still hiding out. They’d have blamed you and the group would have shattered.”

Connor edged slowly toward the weapon’s cabinet, hoping to get to a taser. He didn’t want to have to hurt her. Once Dad got home they’d figure a way to separate the demon out of Cordy so they could have her back. She hadn’t completely betrayed them yet and if he could keep her from doing it, everything could be made right again. “Did you kill Lorne?”

She cocked her head. “I was too sick to do it right so I slipped him some sleeping pills and sent him upstairs. I figured I could handle the others once they got home. I don’t know if it’s the illness or the human bitch in me fighting but I can’t even work up a good glow and kick your ass.” She reached down and pulled a knife out of her boot. “So I guess I’ll do this the old-fashioned way; cut out your heart, drop the shields around the hotel and tell them the Beast’s minions got you.”

“Cordy, drop the knife.” Connor eyed the blade wildly. He dropped into a defensive stance against an attack he couldn’t even imagine happening.

Cordelia charged him. He easily sidestepped her thrust and he shoved her back. With a startled cry, Cordelia lost her balance and her head hit the edge of the desk with a sharp crack. She slumped to the floor, a halo of red spreading out around her head. The knife skittered under the desk.

“Cordy, get up,” Connor whispered, feeling his legs nearly giving out. He knelt by her side, gently touching her face. “Wake up, Cordy. It’ll be okay now. We’ll help you.” Connor gulped, feeling the fear welling up inside him. He couldn’t hear her heart beat. She wasn’t breathing. “Cordy, baby, wake up.”

“What is going on down there?” Lorne called, rushing down the stairs. “All this screaming woke me…up.” He stopped in his tracks, staring at Connor kneeling over Cordelia’s body.

He looked up at Lorne, tears coursing down his dirty, burnt face. “She won’t wake up. I didn’t mean to push her that hard.”

“What did you do, you little beast?” Lorne raced over. “Cordy, sweetie-muffin, I’ll get…” Lorne swallowed hard, seeing the blood puddling under her head. “You murdered her.”

“No.” Connor sobbed, trying to lift Cordy into his arms. “She’s not dead. She can’t be.”

“You killed her,” Lorne insisted, his voice little more than a harsh hiss.

“No…I was just trying to stop her. She fell and hit her head. I didn’t mean it.” Connor buried his face against her shoulder.

“I warned them never to turn their backs on you. They should have listened to me.” Lorne darted for the open weapons cabinet. “You’ll pay for this. They should have sent you back to the hell you came from, you heartless monster.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt her.” Connor gently laid Cordelia back down, stroking her blood soaked hair. She was alive and beautiful. He could see her glowing. The whole room seemed filled with light and the scent of roses. He could hear birds singing to her. He had to protect her.

“Liar.” The sound of Lorne’s voice darkened the room, took the life back away from Cordelia. Connor jumped to his feet, grabbing his bracer-axe.

Lorne snared a crossbow from the cabinet and shot at Connor. Using his axe, Connor slapped the bolt away. He crossed the distance to Lorne in one smooth jump. With one swipe of the axe, he took Lorne’s head straight off his shoulders. Sliding the bracer-axe over his forearm, strapping it into place, Connor went back to Cordelia, crying so hard he couldn’t see.

He fell at her side, lifting her. He willed her to live again, for the light to return. Nothing happened but a dull hum like bees inside his brain started overwhelming him. He cradled her to his chest, rocking her back and forth. The word ‘sorry,’ spilled from his lips in a never-ending chant to accompany his motion. He didn’t even notice the front door opening.

“I can’t believe that gang of vampires thought to use stop sticks to catch their prey,” Gunn groused as he and Fred came into the hotel.

“I never thought we’d live long enough to run all the way here,” Fred said wearily. “Cordy, are you… oh God.” She dropped the spell books, seeing Connor holding Cordelia and Lorne’s head off in a corner minus his body. “The Beast’s minions made it through.”

“No.” Gunn gestured back at the front door and the spell wall beyond it. His eyes widened with realization. Gunn tasted vomit in the back of his throat. It was like reliving Alonna’s death. Guilt for ever starting to trust Connor again overwhelmed him. “The spell was intact. Look at Connor’s axe. It’s bloody.”

“Connor,” Fred said, taking a step closer to Gunn. She nearly fell, she shook so hard. She could barely speak. “What did you do?”

Connor looked at them, still rocking Cordelia. “I forgot how strong I am. I didn’t meant to push her so hard. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t fix this,” Fred said. She knew the look in Connor’s eyes. She recognized sanity gone walkabout, having seen it many times in the human ‘cows’ in Pylea.

“And it doesn’t explain why Lorne’s head is half way across the room from his body, you little bastard.” Gunn reached for his axe then remembered it was gone. He had had some spare weapons in the truck but they had used all their stakes and crossbow bolts on the way home. He raced for the cabinet. He made it before Connor could put down Cordelia and come after him. He slid a sword along the floor to Fred and took one down for himself.

Gunn didn’t wait for Connor to explain himself. He saw the look in the boy’s eyes, watched what sanity he had just moments ago draining away. He saw that something had died inside Connor, leaving nothing but unfocused rage. The boy growled like a feral thing. “Get him from behind, Fred,” he screamed, swinging on Connor.

Connor leapt over the blade and kicked Gunn in the face. As he went down, Connor whirled and grabbed Fred’s sword arm, snapping it like a twig. She shrilled as he shoved her off him. Gunn got up, bleeding heavily from his nose. His swing grazed Connor’s side. The boy grunted, falling back.

“You hurt her,” Gunn growled, swinging again.

This time Connor sidestepped and back swung with the bracer-axe. It cut through Gunn’s sword arm. Gunn made a high-pitched animal noise as his hand, still clutching the sword, came free of his body in a bloody spray. Gunn hit his knees, vomiting.

“Charles!” Fred shrieked, fear rooting her to the flooring. The scent of terror made Connor smile widely, completing the mask of insanity he wore.

Connor hauled Gunn up with a hand under his chin. Blood from Gunn’s flailing handless arm fountained in Connor’s face. All he saw was red. He tried to tell what sort of demon this was. He could hear their cries thundering in his ears. He could smell Quor-Toth in the air. The sky roiled red, another storm was coming and these two strange demons had appeared from it. They called him Connor. Who was that? Where was Father? Had they hurt him? He didn’t know. He couldn’t even tell where he was. Was he in the caves of Anrel?

It didn’t matter. The important thing was these beings were trying to kill him. He had to stop them. He slashed wildly with his arm, the blade on it biting into flesh again and again. The stronger of his attackers lay before him in pieces. He knew it was dead even as he kept hacking at it. He felt its blood and flesh hitting him.

Feeling someone coming up behind him, he whirled, his blade catching on the silver claw of the female creature. It snapped away. He heard her saying that strange name, again and again, pleading with him to stop. She was crying, telling him how she had loved him like a brother, asking him how he could do this. Some demons were like that, they could get into your mind and make you think they were your friends. Connor didn’t even recognize Fred as he dismembered her. He needed to be sure she couldn’t regenerate. Some demons could, after all. He tossed her organs to the Etuzzas he and Father kept as ‘guard dogs.’

Soaked with blood ­it ran in riverlets down his chest and over his face to drip from his chin - Connor limped over to Cordelia. Scent told him this was his mate. The fact that he hadn’t had a mate in hell couldn’t penetrate the maelstrom of madness raging inside him. Something had killed his mate, probably the demons he had just destroyed. He curled up around her, protectively, listening to the chewing of the Etuzzas as they devoured the treats he had given them. He heard Cordelia calling from a distance. It seemed so beautiful where she was, so soft and warm. He followed her in his mind, leaving conscious thought far behind.

Chapter Fourteen

No one knows what it's like
To be the bad man
To be the sad man
Behind blue eyes
No one knows what it's like
To be hated
To be fated
To telling only lies

But my dreams
They aren't as empty
As my conscience seems to be

I have hours, only lonely
My love is vengeance
That's never free

Behind Blue Eyes ­ The Who

 

“Home sweet home,” Faith said as the GTX pulled up to the Hyperion.

Angel smiled. “I’m glad you think of it that way.”

“I don’t see Gunn’s truck,” Wesley said, glancing around the street. No signs of life could be seen.

“Damn.” Angel climbed out of the car. “Is the shield still intact?”

Wesley chanted the opening spell and the shield parted. “Yes.”

“It’s too quiet,” Faith said, sliding the knife out of her jacket. She, like the others, had restocked out of the cache in Angel’s trunk.

Angel and Wes did likewise. Angel’s nostrils flared. “I smell blood.”

He heard his companions teeth grind as they tensed. They entered the hotel cautiously. All weapons dropped from the offensive positions as their handlers took in the scene played out around them. Blood covered the floor like a twisted reflecting pool. The walls looked like a Pollock painting in sanguine. Pieces of Fred and Gunn commingled in a pile like the cast offs of a slaughterhouse. Connor lay twined around Cordelia near the reception desk. Lorne’s body rested by the weapon’s cabinet but his head lay several feet away outside the pond of gore.

Angel heard Wesley gagging and Faith’s breathing accelerating. He put his hands out keeping his friends behind him as he crept forward.

“The Beast’s minions killed them all,” Faith said. She had killed before but this was too much. She didn’t even know her knees had gone out until her backside hit flooring.

“No,” Angel corrected, his eyes still scanning for the enemy. “Connor’s alive. I can hear him breathing.”

“Fred, oh, God, Fred,” Wesley murmured then raced for the front door. He didn’t make it. What little was in his stomach emptied itself. He sank to all fours as the retching worked into a vicious circle he couldn’t break.

Angel wanted to comfort them but he couldn’t not until he knew how badly his son was hurt. Angel cautious picked his way over to where Connor lay with Cordy in his arms. He gently eased Connor away, rolling his son to his back. Connor’s arm with the axe blade lashed to it flopped limply, the axe resounding as it hit the floor. That sound got Faith and Wesley’s attention. Wesley managed to stop vomiting. Angel stared at his child, sinking to his knees in shock. Amidst the blood coating his face, Connor’s blue eyes were wide open and staring unfocused. His breath hissed in and out of his parted lips.

“What’s wrong with him? What did they do to him?” Faith asked, her voice tight. She fought to get to her feet.

“Look at his axe,” Wesley said, pointing at the metal splattered with blood and bits of tissue clinging to it. “Connor did this.”

“No,” Angel whispered, drawing his son to his chest. Connor felt as liquid as a relaxed cat.

“No way. He came here to save Cordy,” Faith argued, getting in Wes’ face. “He couldn’t have done this.”

“Damn you, Connor.” Angel stood up, taking his son with him. Connor’s head flopped back like a marionette with cut strings. “What in the hell did you do?”

“Angel…he couldn’t,” Faith whispered.

“Answer me, Connor, what did you do?” Angel shook his son even though he knew Connor was beyond answering. His son’s limbs flailed and flapped as he shook him. Rag dolls had more substance. “Why, Connor? Why?” He screamed, slapping Connor’s face with one hand. Connor’s head jerked back but there was no conscious reaction to the blow. “How could you do this?” Angel let Connor go. His son toppled over outside the ring of blood. Connor made no attempts to stop his fall. He didn’t cry out when he hit the floor and he laid there, his legs twisted under him, the same expression on his face as when they came in. “What did you do?

“It couldn’t have been him, Angel. He didn’t do this,” Faith insisted. She had very quickly come to like Connor. He was one of the easiest friends she had ever made. One of the few men she trusted at first sight. He couldn’t have committed such horror.

“He did,” a new voice said.

Faith stumbled back with a shocked cry as Lorne’s eyes opened and his severed head spoke. Her hand slammed over her mouth. “Sorry. Hell, that scared me.”

“Help me,” Lorne demanded.

Wesley picked up the head and returned it to Lorne’s body. Angel collapsed beside his son, all the anger draining out of him. He felt sick as he straightened Connor’s legs out from the pretzel they were in from the fall. The desire to punish his son fled as compassion filled him. He knew the price Connor had already paid for what he did. He could see it in his child’s vacant eyes. He barely noticed what Wesley was doing for Lorne. Suddenly the only thing that mattered was the fragile life in front of him. Angel stroked his son’s gory face, getting no reaction beyond some blinking. “Talk to me, Connor. Please, son, say something,” Angel begged but his son’s completely limp condition didn’t change. “ You have to be in there, Connor.”

“Faith, could you give me a hand helping Lorne to the couch?” Wesley asked.

Faith helped him all but drag Lorne there.

“He’s gone,” Angel said softly, stroking Connor’s hair over and over like a cat.

“What?” Faith asked.

“He’s not in there,” Angel said, his voice choking up. “He’s broken.”

“You don’t know that, Angel,” Wesley said. “He could just be in shock.”

Angel shook his head, his large hand still moving soothingly over Connor’s stiff, gore-slicked hair. “I’ve destroyed more minds for fun that I care to remember. I know the look, all the signs. On her bad days, Dru would retreat into a catatonic state.” Angel’s head snapped up, his dark eyes settling on Lorne. “What the hell happened, Lorne? Why were you going for the weapons’ cabinet?”

“Self-preservation,” Lorne said angrily. He waved a hand at Connor.” He was going to kill me.”

“Just like that?” Angel shot his friend a disbelieving look. “No provocation? He came here to save you and Cordy. He thought the Beast had sent someone to kill you.”

Lorne rubbed his neck at the newly joined junction. “I wasn’t awake when he got here. That was so strange. I could barely keep my eyes open. I mean, when you guys are out on the job, I’m usually too nervous to sleep. Cordy said I probably was just stressed out and suggested I lie down. The next thing I know I hear shouting. Cordelia was saying something about being too sick to go glowy and kick Connor’s ass.”

“And that’s when it happened?” Faith interrupted, her face wrinkling as she tried to imagine why Cordelia would think to attack Connor.

Lorne sat back, a strange expression on his face. “No. I heard Connor say something about her putting down a knife then I heard Cordelia scream and then a loud crack. I ran downstairs and found Connor kneeling over Cordelia. He was weeping and saying he didn’t mean to do it.”

“He pushed her too hard,” Angel said, his fingers twisting in Connor’s hair so hard clumps pulled free. “I warned him about remembering his strength.”

Lorne’s tongue snaked out, wetting his lips. “I suppose but I didn’t believe it was an accident.”

“It would explain why Cordelia wasn’t torn apart like the rest,” Wesley mumbled, heading for the reception desk, trying hard not to step in any blood. A strange calm settled on his face as he numbed himself. He reached a place where his friends’ death couldn’t touch him anymore. He needed that safe haven, at least until the situation was dealt with and he could handle his grief in private.

“Well, I didn’t have all this evidence to make comparisons,” Lorne said cattily, waving his hands at the Gunn and Fred.

“So what did you do?” Faith paced around Lorne. There was something he wasn’t telling them. She could sense it and she wanted to beat it out of him, but that wouldn’t help anything. “See the body and run for the weapons?”

He eyed her sourly. “No. I accused him of murder and he kept saying he didn’t mean to do it. I panicked. I don’t even remember what I said next. I guess I did go for the weapons and that’s all I remember outside of blinding pain. I started coming to a bit and I heard him making this keening noise and I heard him chopping. I blacked out again. I don’t know why he killed them, Angel, other than they had to have come in and seen me and Cordelia dead.” Lorne’s angry look faded into one of sorrow.

“They must have tried to attack him, too,” Angel said, slipping the bracer-axe off Connor’s arm. That had to be the way it happened. Connor wasn’t a cold-blooded killer. Angel would never believe that.

“Or maybe he’s a little monster like I warned you about when I left for Vegas and he just killed them because he could.” Lorne’s green lips peeled back from his teeth in a sneer.

“If he were a monster, Lorne,” Angel hit the name like a lightning strike. “He would have left the bodies and run. He could have gone anywhere, shucked his clothing and told us Gunn and Fred beat him home, that the Beast’s minions killed you all.”

“We would have believed that,” Wesley said softly, tensing as he realize he might need to get Lorne out of the room before he pushed Angel too far. “At least until we helped you. No, I’m inclined to believe that Connor snapped and that’s when he attacked you, Fred and Gunn. You said Connor told you he pushed Cordelia, which is possible given what you heard about the knife. There’s a blade under this desk and a fairly substantial one at that. If he pushed her and she fell and hit her head that could have sent him over the edge.” Wesley pointed to the corner of the desk indicating the blood and hair caught on the edge. “Connor loved her. He’d never purposely hurt her.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Lorne sniped, wincing as he turned his neck tentatively.

“I’m sure. He loved her and he’s not faking this. I don’t think he’d know how,” Angel said, closing Connor’s eyes. The boy didn’t reopen them. “What am I going to do with him?” The words tumbled out of Angel like broken glass, sharp and fragile.

“Well, if there was anything in the way of a police force left I’d say call 911.” Lorne lowered his head, almost as if he were brandishing his horns.

“No,” Angel whispered.

“Will they even send anyone?” Faith asked. “I know that most of the cops either left the city or got dead out there trying to help others.”

“I don’t think the cops would take Connor to jail, not in this condition. He’d go to a psych ward until he could stand trial, provided they could find one still functioning in L.A.,” Wesley said.

“When did you get a law degree?” Lorne glared up at the former Watcher.

“I don’t need to be a lawyer to know if Connor can’t help in his defense, he can’t be tried,” Wesley said, not sure why he was coming to Connor’s defense, maybe because he felt responsible. If not for him, Connor would still be an innocent baby and none of this would have happened.

“Well, we have to figure out something,” Faith said, gesturing at the bodies of her fallen compatriots.

“There’s not much left of the Council thanks to the First Evil,” Wesley said. “But they’re rebuilding. I know someone who can help. He was still alive just a few days ago when he emailed me.”

“Nothing can help with this,” Angel said, despondent.

“Not with what’s happened but he could help Connor. Dr. Stiabhan Savage is a psychiatrist. He’s worked with criminal cases and with the weirdness that goes with being a Watchers. He’s a Watcher Special Ops,” Wesley explained. “You’ve met his partner Dr. Maddoc a few years ago.”

“So you’re going to let him get away with murdering three people?” Lorne snarled.

“Does it look like he’s gotten away with anything?” Angel asked as Connor’s eyes opened, staring back up at the ceiling. “Dru’s been insane for over a century. This could be as good as it gets for my son for the rest of his life, imprisoned in his own mind.”

“They were your friends. They deserve better than a cover up,” Lorne argued, trying to get off the couch. His body, still shocky, refused to comply.

“They’re more than friends. I was in love with Fred,” Wesley said, his blue eyes hot as acetylene. “Do you think Angel doesn’t care deeply for Cordelia?”

“I owe my son something, Lorne. I’ve failed him completely. Before, Holtz took him and after he came back, I threw him out into the streets and left him to fend for himself in a world he couldn’t possibly understand. If I could take the blame and go to jail for him, I would. I love him that much and I know in my heart he never meant this. I would shoulder this for him.”

“He tried to kill you, Angel. What were you suppose to do? Thank him?” Lorne slapped a couch pillow.

“I could have done more than I did.” Angel got to his feet. “Wesley, you think this doctor would help Connor?”

“I’ll call him,” Wesley said.

“Lorne, Faith, I can’t make this work without your help. I have to know what you’re going to do,” Angel said.

“We don’t know what really happened here or why Cordy threatened Connor in the first place. I can’t believe he came here to do murder. These three have been going out of their way to antagonize Connor and I’m not sure he believes there are good demons, Lorne.” Faith paused. She went closer to Gunn’s gory remains. She pointed with a toe to the swords on the floor. “Gunn and Fred had weapons in hand. I can see them going over the top when they found Cordy dead. I can only imagine how Connor’d react to being attacked.” She dragged a hand through her hair roughly. “I’m not trying to blame them or anything but if he can be helped I say we do it. You did that much for me, Angel and I murdered because I could without much remorse. Having been through both I’m all for rehabilitation over incarceration.”

Lorne shook his head. “I won’t help you, Angel but I won’t stop you either. Do this without me.”

“Fair enough. Will you help with the arrangements for their funerals, at least? I’m not sure if Gunn has any family left but Cordy and Fred’s parents will need to be told,” Angel said, cautiously approaching Lorne. He didn’t want to pressure his friend but he wanted Lorne close until he was sure of what the demon would do.

“I’ll help with that but what are you planning on telling them?” Lorne asked.

“The weird stuff happening here is on the news all over the world. What have they been blaming all these demon attacks on? Fear-maddened mobs?” Faith asked.

“I’ll give the police their killer,” Angel said with grim determination. “What do I do with Connor now?”

“We have to get him cleaned up some place the police won’t check the drains for blood evidence. I’ll take him to Lilah’s. I didn’t give back my key. She took me seriously when I said go underground. She’s been gone ever since the Beast killed everyone at Wolfram and Hart,” Wesley replied.

“What if Connor wakes up out of his stupor? You don’t stand a chance against him,” Lorne said.

“A calculated risk. I don’t believe Connor will recover any time soon. I’m more worried as to how profound Connor’s catatonia is. He may not be able to stand or help himself in any way and given he’s not moved more than his eyelids since we arrived I fear the worst,” Wesley said.

Angel lifted Connor in his arms. He tipped his son until his feet touched ground. “Can you stand for me, son? Just stand,” Angel said, letting Connor go. He wobbled but didn’t topple. “Can you go with Wesley? He’s going to help you.”

Connor made no effort to move. Wesley took his tacky, bloody hand and gently led him away from the carnage. Connor followed meekly.

“Do you want me to go with them in case Connor does come out of this?” Faith asked.

“Yes,” Angel said. “Lorne, do you have somewhere to go? I don’t know how to explain you to the police.”

“There’s a place or two.”

“If you’re up to driving, Lorne, take my Suvie,” Wesley said. “I guess Connor and I can go through the sewers to Lilah’s. I couldn’t risk taking him in my vehicle anyway, not as blood drenched as he is.”

“Too dangerous right now to walk,” Faith said. “There are plenty of cars in the street. I can hotwire one for you.”

Angel watched Lorne and Faith head out to the vehicles then looked back at what his son had done. He’d be breathless and shaking if he breathed at all. How could things have gone this wrong?

Faith came back in soon enough and looked at Wesley. “It’s the white Civic down the block, nice and non-descript. Let’s go.”

“Faith, wait. I need to speak to you. I’m not sure how much Connor can understand but it’s better he doesn’t hear,” Angel decided even though he couldn’t fathom what he was shielding his son from. “You stay with him, Wes.”

“Of course.”

Angel headed for the kitchen with Faith. Wordlessly he filled a glass then nearly dropped it on the counter. He leaned against it, trembling. He felt Faith’s hands sliding around him. He turned to face her, feeling his strength melt away like snow on a warm day. “Am I doing the right thing, Faith?”

“I think you’re doing the only thing you can do. It’s this or Connor spends the rest of his life in jail or a mental hospital.” She embraced him tightly, resting her head against his chest.

“I know. You’ll have to fill in Wesley for me as to my plan.”

“Which is?”

Angel took a deep, unnecessary breath and laid it all out for Faith.

“That could work,” Faith said when he was done.

“I know. If there’s an investigation I don’t want the police to know Connor even exists and I don’t want them to be able trace me either. We have to get all the photos of Connor and me out of here. I don’t want some sharp-eyed cop seeing one and start pressing into who we are. I don’t think there’s actually any of Connor as an adult and maybe none of me either but I’m not sure what Cordelia might have had.”

“We’ll double-check with Wesley.”

“If I had done more for Connor…”

“Shhh, Angel, there’s no sense in wondering what might have been. It’s done. You can’t undo it,” Faith murmured, holding on even more forcefully.

Angel folded his arms around her, silent tears streaking down his face. It didn’t seem that long ago he was the one holding her, letting her pour out her pain. There was no bottom to this well of anguish. All he could do was not let it drown them both.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Angel lifted his shirt from the pool of blood and put it on. It felt tacky against his cold skin and the scent was making his stomach clench with hunger. Angel felt shamed to his core over the involuntary reaction. He would never be able to put into words how hard it was to coat himself with his friends’ blood, rubbing it on his face and hair but he had to look like he had been the one to commit these crimes. He had smeared blood and tissue on an axe from his cache trying not to look at his slain family as he did so.

He had hidden Connor’s axe in the sewers and for the life of him he couldn’t say why. He just didn’t want it to end up in an evidence locker. By now Faith and Wesley had Connor safely away at Lilah’s. After they had left he had gone to the street corner and dialed 911 to tell them he had heard screams coming from the hotel. That was over an hour ago and only now did he hear approaching sirens. He would be lucky to avoid daylight at this point.

The bones of his face shifted. He wanted no chance of being recognized. Some of the police knew him through Kate. And it didn’t hurt to have the extra viciousness his game face afforded him. “I’m so sorry to make your deaths a lie,” he said softly. “But I don’t think any of you would want vengeance on Connor. Well, maybe you Gunn but I think you’ll understand.”

The police came in cautiously; two young men looking terrified even before they saw the carnage. He howled wordlessly and charged them.

“Drop it!” one of them cried as the other told Angel to stop. He kept running at them with the axe. He didn’t go down at the first shot. Angel ignored the fiery pain as more bullets tore into him. Finally he went down. It was harder than he expected to lie there and play dead but he could do it. They would think he was the guilty party and the case would be closed. Connor would be safe. May his friends’ forgive him.

Chapter Fifteen

Mama; just killed a man,
Put a gun against his head, pulled my trigger, now he's dead
Mama, life had just begun,
But now I've gone and thrown it all away
Mama, ooh, Didn't mean to make you cry,
If I'm not back again this time tomorrow,
Carry on, carry on as if nothing really matters
Too late, my time has come,
Sends shivers down my spine, body's aching all the time
Goodbye, ev'rybody, I've got to go,
Gotta leave you all behind and face the truth
Mama, ooh, I don't want to die,
I sometimes wish I'd never been born at all

Bohemian Rhapsody ­ Queen

“Are you ready, Angel?” Wesley asked, resting back against his couch pillows, exhaustion radiating from him like light.

“No,” Angel replied. How could he be ready? He was giving his son away. Yes, he was turning him over to trained mental health professionals and an old friend had promised to go with them to help as much as he could. But that didn’t change the fact that he didn’t know when he would see his son again. Would he be able to look at Connor without seeing his dead friends in his mind’s eyes?

This was so hard. Harder even than what he had endured in the last few days and Angel wouldn’t have thought that possible. After he forced the cops to shoot him the real ordeal began. It lasted for hours while the uniformed police managed to locate some detectives. They pulled apart the hotel searching for clues. They found Wesley’s phone number and summoned him to identify the bodies. It was torture trying to ignore Wesley’s pain as he had to see what was left of his friends once more. Wes disavowed any knowledge of who the man the police had killed was. He even went so far as to suggest that maybe Angel was one of those people who had grotesque cosmetic surgeries.

Finally, the detectives released Angel to the morgue as a John Doe. Angel had judged by the sheer number of corpses that he would go straight to a pauper’s grave sans autopsy. He had dug out of a grave once before. He could do it again. And if they did slate him for an autopsy, he’d just disappear. They probably wouldn’t even miss his body. All he had to do was pretend to be dead until he could escape and pray that Connor didn’t come out of it and go after his remaining family.

It hadn’t worked out quite as he’d expected. When all was said and done, Angel was forced to escape the morgue before the medical examiner took him apart. At least Connor hadn’t gone after Wesley or Faith. His poor child was still catatonic.

Angel glanced at Wesley. “I’m not ready.”

“This is the right thing to do, Angel,” Wesley said then jumped when someone knocked on his apartment door. Angel had heard the approaching footsteps.

Wesley let Giles into the apartment. How old the Watcher looked struck Angel. The lines in his face seemed to cut through to the bone and silver dominated his hair. His blue eyes screamed with exhaustion from behind his glasses. He moved slower than Angel could ever remember him doing.

“Hello, Giles, thanks for coming,” Angel said. “Are you certain you shouldn’t stay in Sunnydale instead of going with Connor to help me?” He paused for a moment. “Can I get you anything?”

Giles shook his head. “Thank you, no. And things are all right in Sunnydale, thanks to the help you gave us with that demon blade. Buffy can handle herself without me, Angel. It’s the Council that need my attention now. I’ve already sent Kennedy to London just to be sure she got on the plane. She was hassling everyone about staying with Willow. It’s just not possible. The other two Potentials will join her soon.”

“And Buffy is okay with this?” Angel glanced at Giles, surprised.

Giles sagged, looking almost basset hound like. “She’d rather I stay, of course but the truth is, Angel, I’m getting too old for fieldwork. I’m becoming a liability.” Giles paused, the air rushing out of his nostrils. He looked suddenly older. “I can do more good helping rebuild the Council and training the next generation.” Giles gestured towards Wes. “Wesley, they’re talking about inviting you back. You’re probably of a mind to tell them to go to hell but I thought you should know.”

Wesley’s eyes opened wide. “Thank you.”

“But you’ll help with my son, too, if your time isn’t completely taken up by the Council?” Angel heard the worry in his voice. Had he misunderstood why Giles was going with them today?

Giles’ pursed his lips, obviously instantly gone somewhere in deep thought then asked, “Do you honestly want me to?”

“Giles, I couldn’t imagine a better person. You weren’t just a father to Buffy. All of them saw you like that and that speaks volumes,” Angel said without hesitation.

Giles smiled, pulling off his glass as a hint of a blush crept up his cheeks. “Thank you. When you told us that you even have a son…stunned isn’t the word for it.”

“I know.” Angel rolled his lip between his teeth. Wesley had taken a call from Giles to tell them the First had been vanquished and that Buffy and her friends were all safe only hours after they had found their friends dead. Yesterday, Angel had called Sunnydale to talk to Buffy and the others himself, to tell them that Cordelia was dead and lie to them about how it had happened. He had asked for Buffy and Giles to stay on the line without the others listening in and he told them both about having a son. He could hear the tears in Buffy’s voice; a sense of betrayal that he hadn’t told them earlier. He couldn’t blame her. She made a lame excuse and left him talking to Giles. He told Giles that he needed help, told him about Connor’s mental state but not how the boy had become catatonic. He told Giles there was more but he couldn’t tell him over the phone. Giles told him that he didn’t know what he could do to help.

Twelve hours later, Giles had called back having spoken to Wesley and Angel presumed Dr. Savage since Giles knew more than Angel had told him. He agreed to come to L.A. to meet with them and said he planned to go with Connor and watch out for him.

“May I see him?” Giles asked.

“Of course. Faith and Wesley have been watching him here. Faith’s gone out for the day. Connor follows her around like a puppy. We thought it might be easier on him if she weren’t here since I’m not sure he’d understand why she can’t go with him. I don’t want to confuse him,” Angel said, heading for the bedroom.

“Hold on, Angel, they’re arriving,” Giles said.

Angel felt a hint of something like electricity lapping over his skin. Tiny sparkles danced in the center of the room like living opals. They expanded and burst into prismatic light. Out of it stepped two people. Both were clad in dark brown leather jackets and non-descript blue jeans and dark shirts. Both were tall. The buxom brunette had her thick wavy hair pulled back and she hadn’t really changed much in the few years that had passed since Angel had last seen Dr. Saeth Maddoc. The man with her, whom Angel assumed to be Dr. Savage, had warm blue eyes that invited people to truest him instantly. Angel hoped they’d work on Connor.

Saeth shook her head, looking exhausted. Savage put a hand on her shoulder to steady her. “That never gets any easier,” she muttered, managing a smile for Angel. “Hello, Angel. Sorry to see you again under these conditions.”

“I’m glad you’re willing to help, Saeth,” Angel said. She looked perplexed for a moment and he remember she went by the nickname Mad Dog but right now he wasn’t in the mood to hear the word ‘mad.’

She went over to Wesley and Giles, kissing both men gently. “Nice to see you two again. My house is ready for your stay, Ripper and we’ve got a sturdy room ready for the boy.”

“Then Wesley told you what Connor is and what he can do,” Angel said. He had wanted that to be secret but he knew that Giles, Savage and Saeth would need to know in case anything went wrong.

“Yes, he did. Angel, I’m sure you’ve guessed this is my partner, Dr. Stiabhan Savage,” Saeth said, patting the thin man’s shoulder.

“Thank you, Doctor, for agreeing to do this,” Angel said.

Savage smiled and held out his hand. Angel shook it. “I’m sorry this happened to your son, Angel. And I’m glad to help. This will be an interesting challenge if you’ll forgive me for saying so.”

Angel could hear his homeland in Savage’s lilt. He knew it was irrational but he felt somehow better knowing that Savage was an Irishman. “That’s all right, Dr. Savage. I understand how you might see it that way. Please, have a seat. I was just about to call Connor out here.”

“Please do,” Savage said, sitting on Wesley’s couch.

“Can I get you two anything first?” Wesley asked. “I know teleportation spells drain you, Saeth.”

“Orange juice if you have it or just water if you don’t,” she replied, collapsing in a chair.

“Of course.”

Angel waited for Wesley to get it for her and everyone settled before going to the next room. “Connor, son, come with me.” After a few moments when Connor didn’t appear, he waved for him to follow. “Come on.”

They watched as a scrawny kid wandered out of the room waving back. Angel gave them an odd look. “Sorry, he’s been doing that, mimicking us ever since Wesley brought him here.” Angel looped an arm around Connor, pulling him closer. Connor’s eyes canted up at his father as he staggered a bit against him. Angel saw a small flash of blue out of the corner of his eye and he glanced at Saeth. He remembered her wardings, anything demonic nearing her set off the spell. That was the blue flash. “So…it’s true. Connor isn’t human.” He could hear his own heart breaking with those words.

“Angel, we knew he had to have…” Wesley trailed off as Angel’s eyes fixed on him.

“Wesley said he was the son of two vampires. I wouldn’t have expected him to be entirely human,” Saeth said, her eyes not leaving Connor.

“And if he was, he wouldn’t have set off your alarms,” Angel said, feeling even more defeated.

“No. There’s a touch of demon in him,” she said, glancing over at Angel.

Angel sagged a bit. “Like Wesley said, we knew it had to be true even if we didn’t want to talk about it. Connor hates demons. You might not want to mention this to him when he’s able to understand clearly.”

“We’ll never mention it again unless we have to,” Savage said, matter-of-factly.

“And what about the spell?” Angel gestured at it and Connor did likewise.

“I’ll attune it to his harmonics and it won’t go off again,” Saeth assured him.

Giles got up, studying the boy. “It’s amazing. I didn’t actually believe it completely, that you could have a son. He looks…nothing like you.”

Angle smiled faintly. “ I know.” He smoothed Connor’s hair. Connor reached up and did the same to him. Angel caught his hand. “Connor, this is Giles and he’s going to be keeping an eye out for you. Can you say hello to him?”

Giles inched closer as Connor turned his gaze away from his father to him, his head wobbling like a newborn kitten’s. He smiled vacantly, his lips pulling wide, showing teeth.

“He hasn’t spoken a word since we found everyone dead,” Wesley said.

“How did it happen? What did he see or do?” Giles asked, touching Connor’s arm as if to prove he was real. Connor poked Giles’ arm right back.

“Before we get into that, I’m more interested in what Connor’s been doing since he entered this state. You said he’s not talking,” Savage said, leaning forward, staring intently at Connor.

Angel wagged his head. “He’s not talking. He doesn’t do anything other than follow Faith around and mimic whatever he sees any of us doing.”

“And he’s otherwise nonresponsive?” Savage asked.

“He’ll do what we tell him to but otherwise he just sits and stares,” Angel replied. “He won’t eat or drink. It’s been three days.”

“I’ve gotten sips of water into him. So has Faith but he won’t do more than sip at it. He won’t really drink and he won’t touch food,” Wesley added.

“Has he been voiding at all or has his body total shut down?” Savage pulled a notepad out of his jacket pocket and started jotting things down.

“I think he did once on his own…properly but I’m not entirely sure,” Angel said, wondering why he hadn’t thought about it. The fact he had been lying in the morgue and didn’t know didn’t matter to him. He should have known.

“All right, let’s see if he takes some. Go ahead and give him a glass,” Savage said.

Angel went and got his son a glass of water. He sat with Connor but the boy wouldn’t even look at the offered drink.

“As for the mimicking, it’s called echopraxia and it’s a symptom of catatonia. It can be rather common but you don’t find it usually in literature available to the public so people trying to fake catatonia don’t know to try this,” Savage said, making more notes.

“We don’t think Connor has the knowledge to even try to fake it,” Wesley said. “He’s been in this dimension less than a year. He was raised in Quor-toth and doesn’t know much about Earth.”

“Quor-toth?” Saeth’s jaw dropped. “How did he survive?”

“The man who took him, who raised him from a baby, managed to keep them both safe but Connor is wholly uneducated. He can read some but that’s it as far as we know,” Angel said, trying to press the glass into Connor’s hand. “Take a drink for me, son.” Connor didn’t take it nor did he try to drink when Angel touched the glass to his lips. Angel set the glass down. “He doesn’t like me very well. I don’t know if that has anything to do with him refusing me.”

“It could. We’ll try later. You mentioned Connor had something to do with the deaths,” Savage said.

“I was curious about that. I know why you didn’t want to talk over the phone but it made me wonder if I’m doing the right thing by helping,” Giles said frankly. He shot Angel a penetrating look that the vampire met without flinching.

“He killed Cordelia, Giles. And if you want nothing to do with this, I’ll understand. I should have told you that before you came here but you are going back to Wales to help rebuild the Council anyhow,” Angel said, stroking Connor’s arm.

Giles’ eyes went wide and for a moment he was silent. “Do you know why he did it?”

“From what we can piece together, he and Cordy were fighting,” Angel said softly.

“Was this common for them?” Savage broke in.

“Lately yes. They had a…well, one-night stand. Cordy told him they couldn’t be together and I think he was honestly in love with her. She crushed him and he didn’t understand but he wasn’t trying to force her back with him. In fact, he was doing his best to avoid her. He resented her trying to run his life even if she didn’t want to be in it. We know that last night she pulled a knife on him and he pushed her. We think she hit her head and died instantly,” Angel said as Connor rested his head against his father’s shoulder.

“Connor is as strong as a vampire or possibly a Slayer,” Wesley said. “He forgets that. He never had to pull his punches on Quor-Toth.”

“Lorne overhead the fight. He’s demonic, from Pylea, and Connor didn’t see any reason not to kill Lorne like he would any other demon. Like I said, Connor hates demons. He was raised to kill them. He was obeying our ruling that he leaves Lorne alone. Lorne saw Cordy was dead and Connor crying he didn’t meant to do it. Lorne provoked Connor somehow and went for the weapons and that’s when Connor beheaded him,” Angel said.

Saeth’s head came up sharply at that. “That won’t kill a Pylean.”

“No, but Connor didn’t know that. Still Lorne was unconscious for what came next,” Wesley said.

“All we can guess is our other friends came home and saw the bodies and attacked Connor or maybe he went for them immediately. Either way, he killed them. When Wes, Faith and I returned we found Connor huddled around Cordy’s body and our friends had been slaughtered.” Angel paused, seeing Wes go pale.

“We think he killed Gunn first as the biggest threat,” Wes said, forging on. “Then Fred. She took the worst of his rage. He didn’t just dismember her. He chopped her into tiny bits.” Wesley gulped for air at the memory.

“God,” Giles whispered.

“Connor’s been like this since we found him,” Angel said. “When the cops came I pretended to be the killer, in full vamp face. They shot me and officially the case was closed. It’ll get no further than this. I know I’m asking you to participate in a crime by helping my son and if you tell me no, I’ll understand.”

“I can see why you’d want to protect your son, Angel but Wesley, tell me why you think that this is better than a jail cell.” Saeth glanced over at her friend curiously.

“Partly this is our fault. We didn’t give Connor enough support and he makes it hard to be friendly with him at times. But still we are the adults. We should have tried harder to take care of him. He’s still a boy,” Wesley said as Angel paced through Wes’ small living room. The others pulled into themselves as if Angel’s very motion could burn them. “And by his own admission, once we reunited his head with his body, Lorne called Connor a murderer. The boy panicked. If Lorne hadn’t done that, maybe it just would have ended with Cordelia’s tragic death. Connor was still coherent then. From what we can tell, the mental breakdown happened after he attacked Lorne. If only he had taken Connor at his word, it might not have gone this far.” Wesley stopped, looking up at Angel who had paused in his stalking in front of him.

“I see. I’m willing to take him into my home, Angel, if Savage wants to help,” Saeth said.

“I want to try this more than ever,” Savage said with the eagerness of a professional with a new meaty problem. “Angel, I get the sense you’re holding something back.”

Angel shifted uncomfortably. “Can we talk where Connor can’t hear us?”

“Of course.” Savage said. “Would you like to stay here with Connor, Saeth?”

“Certainly,” she said, sitting next to Connor, taking his hand. He smiled at her.

“Wes, Giles, you might want to hear this, too,” Angel said, leading Savage into the library.

“Do you think Wesley’s assessment is wrong? Do you think Connor purposely cut them all down?” Savage asked, leaning on the desk as Angel shut the door.

“No, that’s not it,” Angel said. “I don’t think Connor knew the truth about Cordy. She was going to wait for me to tell him, if she even was going to. That one night stand happened when the sky started raining fire and Cordy wasn’t thinking about…um, protection. She was carrying Connor’s child. He killed his own baby and if he doesn’t know it, I don’t want him to.”

“She was…” Wesley ground a fist into his leg. “Of course. Why didn’t I even think of that when she started getting so sick.”

“I think you’re right. He doesn’t need to know,” Savage said.

“It’s worse than just that,” Angel said. “Wes, when I had you pull up the autopsy report on Cordelia…”

“And asked me not to read it,” Wesley broke in, an irritated look in his blue eyes.

“There was a reason. Kate had gotten in touch with me yesterday to bring it to my attention. She still has contacts with the police and the coroner’s office. The autopsy showed Cordelia was pregnant. I was expecting that but the fetus wasn’t just a few weeks old. Its size suggested a few months.”

“That can’t be, unless it was from when she was in a higher plane,” Wesley said, his nose wrinkling.

“Cordelia was certain it was Connor’s. It doesn’t matter. The baby wasn’t human.” Angel paused, rocking back on his heels, uncomfortable with what he had to say next. “It was demonic. It was probably growing at an exponential rate.”

“Demonic?” Savage’s dark brow raised. He scribbled something in his notebook.

“Cordelia was melded with a demon to help her survive the visions,” Wesley said and Giles made a startled sound.

“And I’ve always feared Connor wasn’t entirely human and tonight that was confirmed. We never spoke of it since he hated demons so much. I think he knew he had some demon in him, feared it but he doesn’t talk to me about well, much of anything.” Angel scrubbed a hand through his messy hair, feeling dull and numb at this point.

“And the demon aspects came together in this baby.” Giles plucked off his glasses and started cleaning them fiercely with the hem of his shirt.

“Yes and we would have had to destroy this baby even if Cordelia hadn’t died,” Angel said. “So I don’t want Connor to ever know there was a possibility he had fathered a child.”

“Yes, that would be for the best,” Savage said. “From what little I’ve observed, I think Connor’s symptoms are very real, Angel. As it is now, even if you had taken him to the authorities, he would have been put in a psych hospital until his mind cleared. They wouldn’t jail him in this condition. Tell me, is there anyone particularly close to him? It might help to have them with him.”

Angel shook his head. “No. Wesley barely knew him. Lorne would only make him worse. He was only close to Cordelia.”

“What about Faith?” Wesley asked. “He has been following her around since this all happened.”

“I don’t think she’d be a good choice to help an unstable boy,” Giles said. “Even if she knows how it is first hand.”

“She’d help but their closeness was…inappropriate,” Angel said grimacing, unsure if he should even mention it.

“How so?” Savage asked, pouncing on that.

“They met in an alley fighting vampires. Faith is…um.”

“Highly sexed,” Giles supplied.

“Yes, and just released from prison that day. I’m not sure if Connor is just a typical horny teenager, very open to seduction or if he was out to piss off Cordy for dumping him but I caught him in bed with Faith.” Angel slumped against the bookshelves. “I think she understands him well but she’s the Slayer. She would be a help if Connor got physical but I can’t have her with my son when there’s work out there for her to be doing.”

“Fair enough. You mentioned he dislikes you,” Savage said.

“Hates me. He was raised his entire life with one purpose, to kill me for killing the family of the man who kidnapped him. Connor lives to irritate me as much as possible. That’s why I won’t go to Wales with you. I might just make him worse,” Angel said miserably.

“Good idea and I’ll keep you up to date on his progress. When I feel it would be beneficial to have you there, I’ll let you know,” Savage said. “If you want to move in with us for a while, you can but if Connor’s got that mind set against you, you might impede his recovery. Is there anything else you needed to tell me that you don’t want him hearing?”

“No.”

Savage headed back for the living room. Saeth sat with Connor on the couch, studying the boy with a half-lidded gaze.

Angel looked at his son’s vacant eyes and felt his world tipping sideways. The reality of what had happened came rushing back once more, nearly overwhelming him. “Do you think you can help him, Savage?”

“I can’t make promises. That’s the thing with mental illness. Catatonia tends to go into periods of remission. It does respond to drugs.” Savage smiled encouragingly.

“And if it doesn’t my son spends the rest of his life staring into space?” Despair colored Angel’s words. He felt the bite of tears but managed to cap them off.

“This is the better stage of catatonia. He could be in the excited stage where he could be dangerous to himself and others. Some people have used electroshock therapy for this but I prefer not to do that,” Savage said. “And even if he does come out of this, Angel, it doesn’t mean he’ll be healed. So long as he’s non-responsive and non-verbal, I can’t tell what other damage has been done to his mind but we won’t give up easily. Right now, I’m most concerned with him refusing nourishment. If he doesn’t start eating and drinking soon we’ll have to take heroic measures but we’ll talk about that later. If Saeth’s ready, we should get Connor back to Wales.”

“Where exactly is your home, Saeth?” Angel asked.

“Crug Hywel. My home is old, over five hundred years, very sturdy stone and all that. The room I have for Connor isn’t the nicest, doesn’t really even have much of a window but given his condition Savage thought that was for the best. My great grandmother, Rhiannon, lives nearby to help if we need her. My binding spells should be enough to handle Connor if he gets physical. And if he comes out of this fugue, I have a lot of land for him to exercise on. I’m sure he’d like that. And my brother’s family tends to pop in a lot. He has four kids right around Connor’s age,” she said.

Angel’s eyes widened. “Four?”

“Two his own, two adopted. Evan has nine kids of his own. My family is sort of like a rich version of the Weasleys.” She grinned but Angel just gave her a puzzled look. “Sorry, Harry Potter joke. Let’s just leave it as there’s plenty of us and we’re all mages. Dylan, my eldest nephew is a fairly strong mage, perfectly capable of binding Connor if need be.”

“I like the idea of Connor having someone his own age around. He’s never had that, not ever.” A hint of a smile touched Angel’s lips at the thought of his son having something normal like friends his own age. “Thank you for helping me. I know how much I’m asking of you all, the risk I’m putting you at.”

“I’m not very easy with this,” Giles admitted. “But I’m willing to believe he never meant for it to happen. He wouldn’t be like this if he did. I’ll be living with Savage and Saeth and I’ll do what I can to help with Connor. I’ll have to give much of my time to rebuilding the Council but I’m sure I can help with your son, Angel.”

“Thank you, Giles. You have no idea how much this means to me.” Angel shook Giles’ hand, sorrow reflecting his dark eyes. “Could I have a little time alone with him?”

“Of course.”

Angel waited until everyone went into Wesley’s library before pulling Connor up into a tight hug. The boy was limp in his arms. “Connor, I want to believe you can hear me and understand. These people are going to help you. Giles is one of the finest men I know, you listen to him, okay? I forgive you for what happened. You’re going to get better. I know you’re in pain now but it will get better. They’re going to take you to Wales. That’s a long ways away from here and I can’t go with you. We’ll be apart for a while but that doesn’t mean I don’t love you. I’ll call and talk to you, I promise. I can be there whenever you need me and you will sometime. I know that you will because I know you’ll get through this. You let them help you. You can make amends. I know this better than anyone.” Angel brushed Connor’s hair back. His son’s blue eyes were trained on him. He thought the boy was listening. He kissed his forehead gently. “Good bye for now, Connor. Remember that I’ll always love you, no matter what.”

Angel waited, praying for a response but Connor just shut his eyes, his breath escaping in a soft sigh. He patted his arm and led Connor back to the others. It was breaking his heart to let Connor go but he knew he had to. He could only cling to his belief that redemption was possible for himself and for his son. He would do anything in his power to make that happen and he knew that this was the first best step on that path.

Angel took Connor into the library. “He’s ready. Saeth, at some point could I come to your home and be with him when Dr. Savage thinks it’ll be good for Connor?”

“Of course. Once Connor starts speaking again, we’ll arrange for him to talk to you regularly if Savage thinks it’ll help him,” Saeth said.

“Either way, we’ll be in touch with you every few days, Angel,” Savage said, “To keep you updated.”

Angel nodded. “Thank you.”

“Do you have any luggage you want to send along with him?” Saeth brushed Connor’s hair out of his eyes and he reached up and did the same for her.

“Connor’s not into belongings outside of weapons and he doesn’t need those now,” Angel said. “He doesn’t have much of a wardrobe either. I have an overnight bag of clothes for him. I’ll go get it.”

Angel went more slowly than he knew was necessary as he fetched his son’s clothing. Once he turned it over, Connor would be gone. He just wasn’t ready to let him go. He was missing him already and the boy was still standing in the apartment. Angel had been hoping for a miracle, that Connor would come out of this on his own and none of this would be necessary. He knew it wouldn’t happen and he knew he was doing what was best for Connor but it was torture.

He handed the bag to Savage. “This is all he has.”

“Very well. Everyone join hands and hold tight. You don’t want to get lost between worlds,” Saeth said cheerily.

“Hold on, Connor. Don’t let go,” Angel said, hugging his son for all he was worth. He put Connor’s hand in Giles’. The Watcher folded an arm around Connor then linked his other arm to Saeth. Angel kissed Connor’s forehead then stepped back. “You be good for them, son. They’re going to help you. I love you, Connor. Be well.”

Angel wanted to say a hundred other things but the words wouldn’t come. He watched as the sparkling opalescent lights danced in the air again. The staticy feeling crawled over his skin and then there was nothing. They were gone. He looked over at Wesley, reining in his tears with an iron hand.

“This is the right thing to do,” he said softly.

“It is,” Wesley assured him.

Angel looked back at the spot that had held the quartet just moments before. He could still smell his son’s scent in the air. He didn’t know if a deity existed or if it would hear prayers from a creature like himself. He could only hope God would. What was that prayer? Until we meet again may God hold you in the palm of his hand? Angel didn’t know if he had much faith in God but he did have faith in his son and in Giles. He was content he had done the right thing. Now came the hardest part of all, living with what had happened. He glanced over at Wesley and knew how difficult it would be.

~Fin~