A/N: I always felt like Connor got the raw end of the staff as far as the storyline went, it just got plain weird and what they did with Cordy always left a bad taste in my mouth. I know Connor isn't a popular character, but I still love this father/son pair.
This is an AU where Connor comes through the portal at 13 instead of 16/18 (?) and is living with Angel & co in the Hyperion. Depending on it's reception I might do a series of one-shots or a retelling of the 4th season with 13 y/o Connor.
Disclaimer.
Thunder cracked loudly shaking the entire hotel with the reverberations. The sky lit up blindingly bright for a single moment then went dark again. The cumulonimbus clouds covered the horizon and made the sky seem tenebrous and frightening despite sunrise only being a few hours off.
Connor shot straight up at the sound of thunder, the loud noise jarring him from his dream. The fine hairs on his arm rose, droplets of cold sweat formed on his brow and his heart was beating rapidly. Never in all his young life had he heard something so loud and terrifying. His preternatural ears were still ringing in pain when another crack of thunder shook the walls.
Ashamedly, he let out a soft squeal before leaping out of bed. He could feel his heart clog in his throat as he tried to swallow down feelings of consternation. The most perplexing part of the whole ordeal was that Connor could not hear anyone else in the hotel stirring. Was no one else as concerned as Connor about the source of the noise.
Connor crept out of his room and started down the hall to Angel's room. When Angel yanked Connor off the street and moved him in with them Angel had originally let Connor choose his own room. Connor chose a nice room too, it was on the top floor and had a view that overlooked the entire city, also no one else in the hotel lived up there so he had the entire floor to himself.
However, after a few unfriendly dreams, Angel moved Connor into the room adjacent to his on the first floor so he could 'be there if Connor needed him'.
Much to Connor's chagrin.
Tonight, though, Connor left his room equipped with a plan. He was going to demand that Angel awaken and explain (and/or vanquish) the source of that noise. Straight and too the point, no room for hugging or that infuriating mollycoddling. He was not seeking Angel out for comfort, he was seeking Angel out for answers.
When he found himself standing in front of the door to Angel's bedroom suite, he paused. All he had to do was calmly knock on the door and announce his concerns in a mature fashion.
That was the plan.
Connor was going to stick to the plan.
Connor's hand hovered over the faux wood plastic-y material the door was made out of. He had to pause to take a moment to appreciate the truly horrendous interior design choices of the hotel - just look at this door, what color was this? Ketchup? Burnt dirt? He did not take a pause because he was nervous and pleading with his own heart to slow down.
Connor let out a shaky breath and prepared himself to knock when the door swung open.
Angel stood in the doorway in his silk argyle pajamas, his hair tousled from sleep. He yawned deeply into his palm and peered down at his young son.
Connor, caught off guard, gasped at his father's sudden appearance. He mentally chastised himself for not hearing the vampire approach the door. Connor opened his mouth ready to recite the speech he prepared on the short walk from his room when another horrifying crack of thunder resounded through the air like cannon fire.
"ANGEL!" Connor screamed out of fright as he launched himself at his birth father. Connor buried his face into Angel's middle, wrapping his arms tightly around Angel's waist.
Angel, drawn out of REM sleep by the loud thunder, was roused fully awake by the sound of his son's rapid heart beat and the distinct scent of fear. Despite still being groggy it only took a fraction of a second for Angel to get his bearings and wrap his arms back around his small son.
"Hey bud, what's going on?" Angel asked rubbing small circles in Connor's back.
Connor didn't even lift his head to answer but instead spoke directly into Angel's shirt front, "what's that noise? Is it a monster? Or an explosion? Connor asked, his voice muffled by the top.
There must not have been thunderstorms in Quor'toth, Angel mused to himself. "It's just a storm Connor, nothing to be afraid of." Angel said in a way that he hoped would be reassuring.
However, Angel's words seemed to have the exact opposite effect. Connor stiffened in Angel's arms before jerking away.
He turned his back to his father and crossed his arms before mumbling out a declaration that he was not afraid.
The pitch of his voice and the hair on the back of his neck told a different story though.
"I just didn't know what it was," Connor elaborated, determined to prove that he was not nor would ever be afraid. Connor squared his shoulders and straightened his back before turning on his heel to face his father again. "Now that I know what it is I will return to my room," he said, still unsure of what was causing the noise but unwilling to show apprehension in front of Angel.
They of course had storms on Quor'toth but they were never accompanied by that unpleasant sound.
Angel watched as Connor began to haughtily toddle off in the direction of his room when a flash of lightning shot across the sky. Angel could physically see the shiver of fear shoot up Connor's spine. He stood waiting to see if his stubborn offspring would turn around of his own vocation or if he would stomp off to his room and make Angel fetch him later.
The two did this dance every time something frightened Connor, whether it be a nightmare or in this case a summer storm. And as tiring as this dance could be, Angel thought he was getting quite good at it.
The three steps forward, two steps back, the quick step to avoid bruising Connor's pride.
"Connor," Angel called out, rubbing a tired hand across his face, "com'ere son." His voice soft, without any hint of command, an attempt to lure his son over to him.
Connor stopped in his tracks, debating if he should listen to Angel or not. On the one hand he would be happy not to return to his room, on the other he didn't want to openly show cooperation or that he would listen to the vampire. Reaching a decision, Connor turned back around and walked to Angel's side with what he hoped was an aloof expression on his face.
Angel held out his hand for Connor to take, and much to Angel's surprise Connor accepted the hand.
Slipping his hand into his birth father's much larger one, Connor allowed Angel to lead him down the stairs and out to the veranda stepping out into the crisp night air. Father and son stood in the limited protection of the cement awnings watching as the rain splattered against the concrete in their open air patio.
Angel crouched down, resting on his haunches so he could wrap his arm around Connor's middle and pull him into a close side hug.
"Look," Angel said, pointing to the dark sky, "those are storm clouds. When warm air from the ground rises and collides with cooler air above it a cloud is formed. The flash of light is called lightning which happens when ice in the clouds collide causing an electrical charge. Lightning is what causes thunder, the big boom you hear. When the electrical charge moves through the cloud it creates an air column that vibrates and makes the noise we hear." Angel expounded in what he hoped was layman's terms. He wasn't entirely sure what Connor knew about science but the boy nodded along with Angel's explanation. If Connor didn't understand then at least he was faking it.
Connor stood, shielded from the rains and watched, enamored by the storm clouds and occasional flash of lightning. In an odd sense, he began to find the storm soothing. In Quor'toth Connor learned to fear the rain from an early age. Holtz and he would hide in their cave waiting for the storm to pass, any creature unfortunate enough to be caught outside met a painful end as the sulfuric rains burned them alive. The stink rotted the very insides of Connor's nose, but the rains on Earth were so different smelling and not at all rotted.
"Can I...?" Connor trailed off, cocking his head to the side gesturing to the open patio.
Angel smiled sweetly at the boys curiosity. He watched as Connor stretched out a tentative hand as though he was going to touch the water. When the boy hesitated Angel gently grasped his tiny hand and held it open so he could catch some rain drops in his palm.
Connor gasped as he felt the cold water bounce off his hand. The rain didn't burn him at all and Connor found he quite liked the feeling of the cold rain. He turned and looked back at Angel who gave a brief nod and let go of Connor. Connor, like a baby deer learning to walk, took tentative steps to stand under the cloudy sky.
The cold rain was now hitting Connor's skin and the first thing he thought to do was open his mouth and stick his tongue out. The water hit the back of his throat but Connor soon found that the rain wasn't falling nearly fast enough to satiate any thirst. He closed his mouth and stepped out further into the back patio. He opened his arms wide and twirled in a circle feeling the rain and cold air splatter against him.
Angel stood, watching his son play in the rain with a smile across his face. The boy would run and jump off the patio furniture into a shallow puddle. He fought strong paternal instincts that told him to get the boy inside now before he caught his death. No, the boy deserved to play in the rain at least once. Next time Angel would make sure that he was wearing a rain coat but for now Angel would sit back and enjoy watching the boy play.
After a few more moments Angel beckoned the boy back inside. He had a warm towel ready and wrapped Connor in it before picking him up and cradling him close to his body.
Angel carried Connor up to his suite and proceeded to dry the boy off before getting him into fresh pajamas. Connor started to droop in his arms, tuckered out from playing in the rain. Angel finished getting Connor dressed without any cooperation on Connor's end. Finally when he was changed Connor's eyes flickered open for the briefest of seconds.
"Do you want to stay with me tonight?" Angel asked.
He didn't care what any parenting books said about children Connor's age needing to sleep in their own bed. He already missed out on most of Connor's life, he wasn't going to turn him away now when he finally got the boy back. Even if the boy did kick in his sleep.
Connor responded in the way of a half nod-half uncommitted grunt before snuggling in deeper to Angel's chest and gripping Angel's pajama top tighter.
"I'll take that as a yes," Angel responded more to himself then anyone else.
He walked around to the left side of the bed and tucked the boy in, pulling the blankets up to his chin and planting a soft kiss to the crown of his head. Angel then walked around to his normal side of the bed and settled himself in. Connor immediately rolled over and staked claim to one of his father's arms, subconsciously nestling into Angel's side. Angel looked down at that mop of chestnut hair and that button nose and could almost pretend for a moment that it was baby Connor with him. With a feather light touch Angel traced his finger along a shallow scar that ran from below Connor's ear to the hollow of his cheek.
He had never given thunderstorms much thought before, but after today Angel was going to be eternally grateful for the summer rains.
Thanks for reading I hope you liked it! Author's note: I know it doesn't rain in California all that often, let alone in the summer but it dramatically rained in Angel the Series all the time so its fine.
Please leave a review if it's not too much trouble! Constructive criticism appreciated!