AS: Hey, here's another sad Angel and Connor fic! I decided to write it because school's all over, and some of my friends are leaving and I may never see some people again. So I decided to write something about saying goodbye, and I realised that Angel and Connor fitted the description of having to say goodbye to someone you love. So it's all about their feelings as they go their separate ways, and how it won't be easy.
Ooh, also I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed my last stand-alone Angel fic! Thanks guys!
So here it is, tell me what you think, although no flames please!
Saying goodbye. Angel wasn't good at saying goodbye. Not because the emotional heartbreak afterwards was too much to bear, as Angel had more than once proved he could claw his way through those feelings of loneliness and pain. But because he couldn't bare to see the look on the face of whomever he left. Saying goodbye personally to Buffy, seeing her face crumple and shatter into tears in front of him, seeing her mouth tremble and blonde head shake softly, would have destroyed him more than he could say. He'd had to simply walk away. He'd always been able to distance himself. Now…
He turned to look over his shoulder at his son. Connor stood with one hand on the door handle, eyes staring evenly into Angel's. Angel turned, feeling his lungs turn to lead and drag down his tightened chest.
"Hi," Connor said, with a small smile, "I just…"
He took a step in and shut the door properly behind him. He flicked a strand of hair away from his blue eyes and then stuck the hand in his pocket.
"I just came to say hi,"
Angel nodded.
"Well…hi," Angel said, a small awkward smile on his face, "Um…how are you?"
"I'm doing OK," Connor nodded. He looked at the floor. His chin was tilted and his face caught the sun through the specially designed windows, "I mean, life's getting a bit weird but…yeah,"
"Getting your memories of a life like yours, Connor, full of demons and…deceit…sure it's weird,"
Connor chuckled, "Well actually I meant about to go off to college, but I get that too,"
"Oh," Angel grinned, "Yeah, sorry, I…I forgot about that. You're going to Stanford, right?"
"Yeah, it should be good,"
There was a long pause. A phone rang in the distance and a distinct British accented voice answered it.
"Do you…do you remember everything?"
"Pretty much. I mean…it's all coming back to me in dreams and sometimes just randomly during the day. It's a bit…scary, but it's not what I remember happening that scares me so much. It's remembering exactly how I felt when it happened. But…still not believing I was actually there to feel it at the time,"
"It'll all fit. Eventually,"
Connor turned his face away and shook his head, "You know, I had this entire speech set up in my head. I think I even practised it on the way over here," he laughed, "I should have brought cue cards,"
"It's fine. I mean…you've got time. To say what you want to say, I don't need to go anywhere. I'll…I'll listen,"
"I wanted to come back to it all," Connor said, suddenly, in a rush, "I wanted to come back to everything I was supposed to live with. I wanted to fight the demons, I wanted to…I wanted to be with you. Be by your side when…you know, it all kicks off. But now I think…" Connor looked up from the carpet. The eyes, obviously inherited from his mother, danced with light, "I suppose doing something you have to, is more important than going back to something you had to do a long time ago. I had to be your son, I had to be the Destroyer, because everything had happened that way. Now…now I have to be Connor Reilly, and I have to go to Stanford, because everything is happening this way. I can't live in a world I left and was meant to live in a long time. I'm not supposed to,"
Angel paused, taking in a deep breath. He nodded, "I know. I'm sorry Connor. I'm so sorry you had to go through this. And…I'm sorry that you don't want to stay here anymore,"
"It's not that I don't want to…I can't. I have a different world I'm supposed to live in, now. It's just…it's just not yours, Dad,"
Angel swallowed heavily. How could his son simply addressing him as 'Dad' make him feel like the most important man alive? How could he say goodbye?
"So…I just thought I'd…talk to you," Connor said awkwardly, shifting his weight from one leg to the other, "So that you knew,"
Angel moved around his desk until he was just short of Connor. He regarded his son's slightly ruffled dark brown hair, just a shade lighter than his own, and his blues eyes and skin tone of his mother's.
"Thank you, Connor. I'm guessing…you're going back to the Reilly's,"
"I guess so,"
Angel ignored a hand waving through the glass at him, trying to catch his attention. He scrambled in his mind for words he wanted to say, for a way to unblock this dam across his emotions. He just…he had to tell Connor he loved him, he had to tell Connor he would always be there for him, that no matter what he would always be his father even if Connor could no longer entirely be in his son. Instead he found himself holding Connor close, Connor's head resting on his shoulder. He sensed light in Connor; light and life and everything good. It was nothing new, his son had always had these qualities: from the moment he was born, to the moment he dropped out of the portal, to the moment he came into his office and made Angel impossibly prouder of him. But it always felt good to see them again.
"You're still my father," Connor said, still holding on. He gave a tiny, watery smile, "And who knows, you could need my help when it all kicks off,"
They drew away, Angel's hands still on his shoulders, and he opened his mouth to reply. Connor interrupted: "No, no, I know what you're going to say. You wouldn't let me within forty miles of a dawning apocalypse, I know that. But…you know…I could still 'be' there, sort of in spirit. Still be helping. Still be standing with my Dad," Angel caught the meaning, "Still be your son through it all,"
"You'll always be my son," Angel said, his voice heavy with trying, very hard, not to cry.
"Yeah. I….bye Dad,"
Angel blinked. That was it? It was over? Although he knew full well there wasn't really much more to say. Except for one thing. Angel steeled himself. He had to say goodbye. Now was as good an opportunity as ever just to say goodbye, to watch someone leave him like he had left so many people, "Goodbye Connor,"
"Bye,"
Connor turned and opened up Angel's office door.
"I love you, Connor,"
Connor paused, staring at the pot plant in the corridor in front of him. He looked over his shoulder, giving his Dad a smile full of relief and welcome and thanks. He shut the light wooden door. Angel turned slowly and tucked himself behind his desk in his chair. He put his fists out in front of him on the table and stared at his flexed fingers. Connor had walked out of the door. His Connor. Not just as the baby that had been taken away from him, that he had spend just a few precious weeks with, but as the son he had always loved, however many stakes he had thrown at him.
Of all the things I believed in,
I just want to get it over with,
Tears form being my eyes, but I do not cry,
Counting the days that pass me by.
I've been searching deep down in my soul,
Words that I'm hearing,
Are starting to get old.
Feels like I'm starting all over again,
The last three years were just pretend.
And I said…
Goodbye to you,
Goodbye to everything that I knew,
You were the one I loved,
The one thing that I tried to hold onto
Connor saw the blood beneath his eyelids, the useless boxes of metal and plastic and cardboard that sat with no life, no feeling all around him. He ripped at them, shredding them, furious and angry and wanting to feel his muscles flex and move under his skin as he tore and smashed. He booted an old lawnmower, crashing a box of tins into the side of the parked car. He screamed under his breath and stared at the blood smattered across his memories.
"Oh God," he moaned through his teeth and sat down heavily on a stack of boxes. His family's garage sat broken and messy around him. Connor breathed heavily, gripping his knees, feeling the harsh burn in his lungs.
"This is my life. This is my life, Connor Reilly's life. I am Connor Reilly," he rushed into his hands, his panting increasing. He breathed through his fingers and stared at the dark floor beneath him, "I am me, I am Connor Reilly, I can still be him. This is my world, my world, I left my Dad for it. It's mine, I won't let the other one come into it,"
He kicked a nearby stack of newspapers and they slid with a heavy thump to the floor. Anger and aggression had stolen into his heart the minute he had got back from his meeting with Angel. He was scared about where these feelings came from. They weren't Connor Reilly's. He gave a dry sob into his hands and lashed out again. He could feel his old world pouring in through the cracks of his memories. He gripped his dark hair in his dirty hands. Connor had left everything he had once been for a life he thought he knew. It had been so hard he knew the only way he could do it was to separate himself completely from his old one. But now his old life was coming in through the windows and at every angle possible. He breathed heavily in and out.
Nothing was black and white. Everything was grey and murky and cold and smudged, the outlines and boundaries scattered and smeared. Everything except the one thing: Angel. Everything except the one thing he had had to give up just because that was the way things had to be. He smiled at the floor. Angel gave definition. Angel gave the black and the white and the boundaries. His Dad gave the security and the safety.
I used to get lost in your eyes,
And it seems that I can't live a day without you,
Closing my eyes and you're chasing the thoughts away,
To a place where I am blinded by the light.
Lorne watched Angel batter the punch bag mercilessly. He had been going at it for over an hour, and the demon was beginning to get a little worried about him. He had heard of Connor's arrival, and the father and son meeting in the office. He realised Angel really had had to say goodbye.
"Angel-cakes?"
Angel didn't look up. Lorne sat down on the bench that wrapped around the inside of the dark and lonely gym.
"Not wanting to listen right about now then. That's fine. I just want you to know that you've done all the right things,"
Angel caught the punch bag and held it loosely in his arms, "No, I haven't,"
"You haven't?"
"No, I've done the things I had to do,"
"Isn't that the same thing?"
"No,"
Angel let go of the punch bag and watched it swing limply.
"Well, you've done something about it," Lorne nodded, "And that's all you can do sweetie,"
Angel looked across at his friend.
"He's your baby, Angel, your son. And I know you want him back. And I know you know you can't have him. You don't want to have him because you know he may get hurt by the hand of your prophecy," Lorne took a deep breath, trying to find the words. He tilted his head up and looked Angel dead in the eye, "It hurts to want everything, and nothing at the same time, doesn't it?"
And I said…
Goodbye to you,
Goodbye to everything that I knew,
You were the one I loved,
The one thing that I tried to hold onto.
And it hurts to want everything,
And nothing at the same time,
I want what's yours, and I want what's mine,
I want you, but I'm not giving in this time.
Goodbye to you,
Goodbye to everything that I knew,
You were the one I loved,
The one thing that I tried to hold onto,
Goodbye to you,
Goodbye to everything that I knew,
You were the one I loved,
The one thing that I tried to hold onto.