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The Redemption of a Renegade
by
xConcr3t3 Jungl3 5urf3r

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-Chapter Three-
Evacuate the Dancefloor

Adrenaline pours into the atmosphere from bottles of Grey Goose and Captain Morgan as the house band played. Addictive melodies litt the dark plaza ablaze; every lyric synced perfect to the neon lights flashing down on the dancefloor from above the dance floor. On it, bodies touched bodies, men and women grinding . Heat radiated through the dancing bodies, releasing into the atmosphere.

Curios eyes roam over the scene playing out beofre his eyes and hands slip into the pockets of his Diesel Lade leather jacket he'd "borrowed" from his lunch. Lunch. Feeling the growling of his stomach, he's reminded by the reason he's even at the nightclub. He's freakin' straving.

His hunt doesn't last very long. In fact, he doesn't have to find his dinner; dinner found him. She's a pretty little thing with a peaches and cream complexion and fiery red hair that matches the fire in her very soul. She wore a black lace dress that appeared sheer beneath the lights of the club, thus tanned flesh was exposed to the public through her dress and little was left to the imagination. Needless to say, she looks absolutely deliousious to hungry eyes.

Girl: Hey handsome, wanna dance?

There's no hesitation in his eyes as he cooly nods, pulling his hand out of his pocket and grabbing hers; he was afterall, a teenage boy who hadn't felt the touch of a woman his entire existence. He lets her lead him out to the dancefloor flashing that million dollar grin that made her ask him to dance in the first place.

The hypnotic way she sways draws him in like a moth to the flame. His heart beats out of his chest, or well it would if he had a heartbreat. Skulking for his prey and an observant eye, supplies him with an aresonal of dance moves or at least enough to spin her around roughly and pull her into a kiss- his first kiss. The surprise attack takes the redhead by surprise but she returns the kiss tenfold. When they come up for air, her eyes flash across the dancefloor and then immediately back to him.

Girl: Let's get out of here.

Her voice is gritty and seductive, the kind you don't say no to and besides no was the farthest thing from his mind. Tiny hands flatten over his chest waiting impatiently for his response.

Connor: After you, love.

His electric blue eyes darken with desire and lust as she grabs the end of the tie that hung loosely from his neck twiriling it in her fingers before leading him across the dancefloor and out the back exit. Living in that hellaciously violent, demonic demnsion that is Quor'Toth, taught the teenager to be aware of his surroundings. That's why he realizes the group of men following quickly behind, weaving through the crowd with eyes on him. That's why he realizes his dinner might just be getting upgraded to a full blown feast.

The second they're outside the door, he pulls her into him and backs her up to the wall across from the door putting his finger over her mouth to silence her. The warrior watches the men barge through the door, obviously vengeful spirts wanting his head on a silver platter.

Gang member 1: Boy you best be getting your hands off my woman before I pop a cap in yo' ass.
Girl: I'm not your girl. Just please leave me alone!

The desperation in her voice is mixed with a fear so great that Connor could parctically taste it. It' then that he notices the finger shaped bruise on her arm and something within him emerges that he's not felt for a long time… protective?

Connor: You heard her. Scram.

In response the man pulls out a gun and he and his comrades are ready to teach the boy a lesson for speaking out of turn. BIG MISTAKE. Connor speeds forward, massive hands latch onto the gun totating arm, and he snaps it before anyone could blink. Blue eyes return to the redhead- the veins under his eyes buldging and fangs showing.

Connor: RUN!

After shaking off the shock, the redhead doesn't need to be told twice. Long legs carry her away as her stillettos click clack across the ground in the leaver's anthem. Then Connor continues his assault, driving his hand through the man's chest and pulling out his heart without batting a lash. Throwing it up and down in his hand while letting the body fall, Connor snickers.

Connor: Who wants to die next?

The events that transpire after this moment in time will for ever live in infamy branded the title of a blood bath.


After scowering the city, searching high and low in a fruiteless persuit, Angel decided to check in on Cordealia at the hospital. When turning the corner to enter the waiting room, Angel sets his sights on the brunette talking to the doctor on the verge of tears. Fearing the worst, he couldn't contain himself.

Angel: Cordy?

His voice is questioning, pleading even. He doesn't want to know that his boy, his sweet prince, would do such a horrible thing to the woman that loved him as if he were her own. Connor couldn't do that.

Cordelia: Groo's alive… Critical but alive.

A sigh of relief passes the vampire's lips as he closes the gap between him and the woman he loves. Immediately strong arms envelope her small frame in a warm embrace realizing how perfectly she fit into him or the intensity of her return of the hug. It would have been beautiful if the situation wasn't so terribly tragic. He holds her in his arms, standing frozen in time until he hears her soft rasp of a voice .

Cordelia: Please tell me you found him.

Sad eyes search the vampire for some form of emotion to which he had none to give. He sincerely appeared broken and souless like she may have been looking at his evil alterego.

Angel: The trail went cold.

He relinquishes his hold on the seer and shifts away from her taking a few steps before his hands join on the back of his head and he stares off into the city feeling helpless. For months he'd longed for his baby boy to return at any costs. Their reunion should have been a joyus affair… not this misery. Connor was never supposed to become this.

He was a human.
A human with a soul.
Now… now he is something entirely different.

Angel: God, what the hell happened to my son?

Anger forces his fist down the nearest object which happened to be a chair nearly splitting it in to. Tears burn the corners of dark lashes as he slips down the wall onto the floor. Seconds later she's down by his side desperately clinging to that last bit of optimism the usually bubbly brunette carries.

Cordelia: He took after his mother a little too much.

It was an attempt at a joke to get him to smile. A failed one. Eyes narrow and his eybrow cocks in disbelief.

Angel: How can you joke about this?

Swallowing the cotton textures gathering on her tongue, she rests her head on his shoulder. The familiar gesture lulling the confession out of her.

Cordelia: Because it's the only thing holding me together right now.

Angel loops a comforting arm around her and rests his head attop hers. The last time they slipped into this comforting embrace, was win Cordelia returned to find Connor gone. It's almost like losing his him all over again. But this time is different. This time he can at least get a piece of Connor back.

Angel: We'll get our boy back, Cordy. I won't rest til we do.

Their boy. He says it so naturally as if she were his mother. She wasn't. Isn't. But that doesn't mean she can't be his mom. There's no denying the way her eyes sparkled with love everytime she held him or said his name- no forgetting the way she lit up when Connor was in the room. She was the most maternal thing the boy knew. Connor was her boy too and she didn't bother correcting Angel this time. She just nods slowly in agreement and sits there in his embrace 'til she falls asleep like that.

Ring… Ring… Ring…

Slipping his phone from his pocket, the vampire reads the name on the caller ID and his eyes open impossibly wide. Buffy? What could she possibly want?

Angel: Hello?
Buffy: I think just watched you die.

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