AN: If you're not familiar with Angel the Series or haven't seen season 3/4, Connor and Stephen are the same person. I'm using the names a bit interchangeably at the beginning for reasons that are revealed later in the chapter.

I really cannot leave this father/son pair alone love me some fluff and I think I have enough unique ideas to be able to do a full story with Angel and Connor ya know with the whole rising action, climax, resolution bit.

Anyway I hope you like it! Again Connor comes through the portal at 13 instead of 16/18 (whatever).

Please leave me a comment and let me know what you think! If Connor's your most hated buffyverse character, if you're upset/annoyed about the reboot, if you want to see more fluffy Angel/Connor fic's let me know!

Uncle Lorne

The lights flickered out, returning only after Connor pounded on what he dubbed the 'sweet spot' an area of wall next to the bathroom doorframe. Connor scoffed as the lights and the obnoxious hum returned to the tiny room.

The table he and his father were seated around seemed to stretch for miles, their fingertips just barely brushing across it. The harsh lines of his father's face illuminated again, his skin blistered and potmarked showing his years. His lips were pressed tight but Stephen could see the hard muscle of his jaw clench and unclench. Eyes darting back and forth between Stephen and the door inconspicuously so, Stephen only noticed because he had been taught the same behavior.

"I've seen his true face," Stephen explained – pleading with his father to see that his reasons for busting open the crack between the worlds were just and honorable.

"And I've seen yours," came his father's soft reply. For the first time in Stephen's life his father looked defeated, "I am giving you back to him,"

"No. No you cannot! Father I implore you! Please!" Stephen began fumbling over the words as a tear rolled down his cheek. His father was going to hand him over to a demon, just like that.

His father's laugh was clipped, "As if I'd want you around, what with a face like that."

Stephen turned to look at his reflection in the glass of the motel window and recoiled at the sight. His brow had furrowed and became angry. His eyes ripe with jaundice, his teeth now sharp points designed to pierce flesh. Stephen reached up to touch the hard ridges on his face.

"No, no, no, no!"

Connor jerked in his sleep, awaking on impact with the plush patterned carpet. His skin was slick with cold sweat and his bed sheets were in a crumpled heap between him and his bed. His hands immediately went up to his face; searching for the cartilaginous ridges or the sharpened teeth, letting go a relieved shudder when he found neither.

Connor sat up, pushing his back to rest against his bed and pulled his knees in close to his body. He curled into himself, letting the pajama bottoms mop up most of the tears.

Connor wanted nothing more than to go to his father; apologize, bed forgiveness, and throw himself over hot coals. He'd do anything to make the man see that he was still his son, still his brave boy.

Another shudder ripped through Connor. He buried Daniel Holtz three months ago, he could do nothing of the sort.

A sob turned strangled cough climbed up his throat. His cheeks itched from the tears. All things left unsaid between them felt like nails in Connor's heart. Their goodbye was so abrupt and one sided.

The sadness seemed to gain sentience, with its weight resting on Connor's shoulders. Connor found his feet and began a frantic dash for Angel's room next door. He made it half way before he stopped. Angel would have been in there the moment he heard his son's nightmare – if he were home. If he cared.

Connor swallowed hard, of course his dad cared he just wasn't home. Connor stood in the hall between their rooms, lingering for a moment, unsure of what to do when his ears honed in on something.

Ice clinking against glass and a soft, sweet hum.

- Lorne!

Connor turned on his heel and headed for the lobby.

"Lorn-ne!" He called out, tearing down the steps at an alarming speed.

Half blind with tears, Connor leapt over the desk and buried his face into Lorne's expensive suit.

"Okay, okay, easy Babycakes, I got you," Lorne said, setting his drink on the front desk and wrapping his arms around Connor, "Another nightmare?"

Connor nodded into Lorne's suit front, trying to answer verbally but his words jumbled into an undecipherable sob.

"Alright let's move this into Angel's office," Lorne maneuvered one arm around Connor's heaving shoulders before reaching back to grab his drink.

"When-wh when are they coming back?" Connor finally spoke through the tears.

"Soon baby, soon."

Lorne steered the distraught teenager over to Angel's desk. Setting his drink down he deposited Connor on top the desk while he sat in the chair.

"Can you talk about it?"

At first Connor shook his head, but then slowly he lifted his chin to meet Lorne's eyes, "I just- I just miss him so much. And-and I was such a bad son in the end. I was selfish in coming here. He knew and- and-," Connor trailed off as another sob turned cough stopped any further explanation.

"Okay, okay," Lorne said, putting his hand on Connor's shoulder and squeezing. He moved to stand, walking around the desk to head back into the lobby offices when Connor reached for his hand.

"Whe-where are you going?" The boy looked so pitiful. His cheeks flushed and wet, his eyes puffy from crying, nose dripping snot.

"I'm going to be right back baby," Lorne assured him, prying his fingers out of the preternaturally strong grip. That was something he never thought he would get used too- a 13 year old with the grip strength of a fully grown Graplar demon.

Lorne fetched the items he needed with haste; water and plenty of tissues. Making his way back over to Connor he handed him first the tissues, watching as Connor crinkled them up and mashed them into his face before he decided to take over.

Lorne gently wiped at the reddened cheek and teary eyes before moving to the cute button nose giving the instruction to, "blow". He then put the glass of water in Connor's sweaty palm, tapping on the bottom of the glass.

Connor, not realizing how thirsty crying made someone downed the entire glass in one gulp. Setting the cup down, Connor let out one last shudder before turning his eyes up to look at Lorne, the tears all but a trickle now.

"Better?" Lorne asked, settling back into the chair. Receiving a nod in reply, Lorne waited patiently for the rest of the story to spill out as Connor found his words.

"Father- Daniel-" Connor trailed off, it felt wrong to refer to that man as father while in Angel's house, but he didn't really know what else to call him.

"Father," Connor began again, settling on the moniker he had given the man his entire life so far, "I told myself I was doing this all for him, to gain justice and redemption. To prove that I was not just this awful thing that spawned from two demons. But in the end, I was doing it for myself. I wanted to meet Angel. I wanted to see who my father was with my own eyes…"

Lorne only nodded when Connor trailed off, waiting for him to pick the story back up again.

"When times became hard; in Quor'toth or between father and I, I used to pretend what life would be like with a mother and father. And I would be lying to myself if-if I said I was not picturing my life with Angel."

"The 7th circle of hell is reserved for liars and betrayers," Connor added, "I wonder which mouth I'll get."*

Lorne's mouth hung open for a moment, before closing it, pinching his lips tight. He reached up, wiping away the few remaining tears still on Connor's cheeks. Connor had already condemned himself to the worst circle of hell, at 13.

"Connor," Lorne began after taking a moment to process, "daydreaming about a better life when you're stuck in a hell dimension is hardly a mortal sin. Regardless of what motivated you to get out of that dimension, you did yourself and Holtz a favor punching your way through.

"Don't think of it as betraying your father's teaching- you're coming into your teenage years. You're forming your own opinions, you wanted to see Angel for yourself, with your own bright blue eyes." Lorne said cupping the reddened cheeks, giving them a friendly squeeze until Connor cracked a half smile.

"Here," Lorne said, handing Connor the now watered down night cap, "sip slowly,"

Connor did as he was told and took a sip before curling back, coughing and wiping his mouth on his sleeve. Then, like a baby trying a lemon, he tentatively took another sip to assure himself that what he had swallowed was indeed gross.

Lorne let out a chuckle as Connor tossed him an accusatory glance before setting the glass on the desk.

"Oh you'll learn to love it one day." Lorne said passing a hand through Connor's soft curly trusses, "you want to man the front desk with me until the gang gets back?"

Connor nodded, slipping his hand into Lorne's as they stool the adjustable desk chairs and moved to the front desk. With the phone set equidistant between them they engaged in a competitive game of 'fast hands' to see who could answer the phone first.

…

"Man! What a busy night," Gunn said, wrapping his arm around Fred giving her a gentle squeeze.

Fred, Gunn, Angel and Wesley all strolled into the lobby varying degrees of shambles.

"Eww! Gunn youre getting Hundorn goop on me," Fred said, playfully pushing at Gunn's side.

"Hey! Some cultures find a man covered in goop to be quite attractive," Gunn said releasing her.

"Yeah well go find one. I'm sure you'd be considered irresistible in your state." Fred tossed over her shoulder gathering up the weapons for cleaning.

"Good work done by all," Wesley said easily, despite his contemptive glance at Fred and Gunn.

"I'd say," Angel agreed, clapping Wesley on the back, "Nice job with that sun cult, the way you tossed that axe-" Angel trailed off when he took in the sight before him, quieting down immediately.

Lorne was sitting behind the front desk on a bar stool with Connor asleep on his lap. The boys legs dangling on either side of Lorne and his head nestled firmly in the crook of Lorne's neck.

"Oh the phones were ringing off the hook tonight," Lorne said, sharing in the merriment, "And Gunn I think the goop looks very attractive on you, really brings out your eyes."

Gunn smiled and pointed a thumb in Lorne's direction mouthing 'see' to Fred.

"Lorne-" Angel trailed off, gesturing towards his teenage son, who normally opposed to any sort of coddling.

"Hmm? – Oh the little guy," Lorne answered finally catching on to the confused stares, "don't you worry he is out like a light."

Lorne reached up to pat Connor's back a couple of times. Angel quickly shed his soiled over coat, slinging it across the round couch and made his way over to Lorne.

"Bad nightmare, he wanted to wait until Papa got back," Lorne grunted, hefting the heavy child into Angel's awaiting arms. Angel nodded, settling the boy on his chest and planting a kiss on the crown of his son's head.

Connor subconsciously noticed the familiar smell burrowed deep into Angel's shoulder, letting go a warm sigh that tickled Angel's neck.

"Well," Lorne said looking at his watch, "I'd say it's time for a shift change, if any of you need me before noon tomorrow – well just try your best not to need me. Uncle Lorne is heading to bed."

"Goodnight Lorne, and thank you," Angel said softly, rocking his son gently in his arms.

"Happy to help," Lorne said, giving Connor's leg a gentle squeeze before retiring for the night.

*Quote paraphrased from a conversation between Lilah and Wesley in an episode in Season 4

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