Chapter 2: Catharsis
Twenty Fourth Entry
The barbarian demons were known as the Nog Hototh.
They were little more than savages. They were cannibals that devoured each other and anything that was moving. Their society was as simple and base as the Kluthu'kar's were mysterious and powerful.
It was providence at work. We needed allies to widen the gap between us and our pursuers. The Nog Hototh were our potential allies. If we could convince them to follow our cause then we were already well on our way to freedom. Impressing them would have been a simple matter were it not for a minor complication: Steven. The boy, during my captivity, has apparently led several expeditions against their people on behalf of our former captors. I was told that a dozen Nog Hototh tribes were annihilated because of Steven.
When we first approached our newfound allies, they were torn between fear and murderous rage towards us. They knew who Steven was. They knew of the battle campaigns he had performed in the name of the Kluthu'kar. My son and I were not on the best speaking terms with our allies.
Luckily, Steven knew of their customs and managed to call out to their king. I tried to persuade the brutes to aid us but it was to no avail, for the king refused to help and certainly did not trust us, interlopers. I tried promising vengeance on their oppressors, the Kluthu, but even that would not budge their wretched chieftain. Instead we were caged for our efforts and kept in a pit for two days.
The Nog Hototh planned to kill us. But once again my son has saved us with his knowledge. The brutes were evidently inspired by single combat. This simple tidbit of knowledge has saved our necks yet again for Steven called out to the barbarian's king and challenged/persuaded him into single combat. To make a long story short: Steven has since then used the king's face as one of his trophies.
By that simple act of ancient settlement, my son has become the barbarian's new king and chieftain. We were in a very good situation. We finally had the force of arms we needed to buy us the time to escape.
In addition to Steven's victory, I was given access to the barbarians' shrines. All of which contained texts and scrolls. One particularly took our attention. It was that of a portal to a place called Earth.
When the search for Connor became difficult, Dawn took it upon herself to consult the only person who stood a good chance of telling them where he was: Tracy. She called her on her phone, blessing her foresight to exchange phone numbers with her when she had the chance.
The call did not last long and after a brief explanation, she and Dawn agreed on a rendezvous. Dawn, along with Giles and Whistler drove to a discreet place not far from the Reilly's house. There, Giles and Whistler met Tracy for the first time, and in doing so brought her up to speed on what was going on, and why they required her help.
"Okay," Tracy said, "let me get this straight. Apparently, my ex boyfriend, has a demonic alter ego. Surprising but not unexpected. This said evil alter ego has been mysteriously manipulating people behind the scenes. Cliché but scary."
Giles smiled a bit. This girl, whoever she is, reminded her of Buffy.
"You," she pointed at Dawn, "have a psychic mind meld thing-y with Connor because demon guy over there," she pointed at Whistler, who stood impassively, "orchestrated it so that your brain could protect my ex from his demon alter ego." Dawn nodded her head. "Weird but cool."
"I know. It's a little convoluted."
"No, actually it explains a lot of things. So what do you guys need from me?"
"We were hoping that you could help us find Connor."
Tracy became tightlipped, and unsure. Whistler understood why. She knew about Laurence's deal with the First Evil, and they explained to her that it was all a trap – a rigged game that no one can win.
"It was a trap. Like everything else, it was a trap," Whistler said.
"He was only trying to save his son," Tracy answered.
"I know," Whistler answered. "but it doesn't change anything. It had all been orchestrated from the very beginning."
"He never had much of chance did he, Connor?" Tracy asked.
"None of us ever did," Whistler answered, "will you help us find him?"
"He told me something about a hotel."
"The Hyperion!" Whistler said, "He's heading for the Hyperion."
"Awesome," Dawn said, "We have a lead."
The group quickly drove to the Hyperion but unfortunately, when they reached the hotel, the only thing that greeted them was wreckage, with police tape and a bunch of cops keeping watch. With so many badges around, they decided to watch the hotel in the distance and find out exactly what was happening.
"Well, at least we know they came through there," Tracy quipped.
But Giles was becoming impatient. He looked just about ready to contact Buffy and tell her what was going on. Whistler noticed this and tried to argue with him. Unwilling to participate in the feud, Dawn and Tracy kept themselves to the task of trying to figure out what could have happened to have caused the wreckage in the Hyperion.
As they did this, Dawn felt something was amiss in the Hyperion. Lingering bits of detail reminded her of a familiar old feeling – the psychic link she shared with Connor. It was imposing itself again, calling for her help when it was most needed. She then began to see weird images of a dead man bits and then pieces of bloody pulp splattered across a room. Connor was there, unconscious – perhaps dying.
She knew this vision to be true and it scared her. It also imposed a strange kind of urgency in her. This struck her hard and nearly knocked her unconscious.
"Dawn?" Tracy turned just in time to see her swoon. "Help!" Tracy yelled to Giles and Whistler who were still arguing. They quickly responded and rushed to Dawn who was beginning to regain her senses.
"He's dead," Dawn said.
"Connor?" Tracy asked in surprise and fright.
"No, his father. He tried to save him. They tried to save each other but they failed."
"What's happening to you Dawn?" Giles asked scared.
But Dawn could not explain, she can only say what she knew. "I know where he is!" She answered.
Connor dreamed a dreamless sleep, an illusion of his own mind – trying to sort out all the chaos that had exploded so recently. Connor Reilly was no longer a viable persona to be in control, but then again, neither can the Destroyer or Steven Holtz. Every version of the being known as "Connor" was extremely unstable. Before, Connor Reilly had been the best option to keep on going, but since Laurence's death, that was no longer the case. At this point, the only viable answer was a balanced synthesis of every part of Connor's mind and soul: The Destroyer, the Human and the Miracle Child. All must find a common ground or risk mutual destruction.
Strangely, they found it in a dream. A sweet dream of a love that was a false memory. The memory of Tracy at prom.
"Mmmm." Tracey stretched luxuriously cat and snuggled her head against Connor's neck. She peered one sleepy eye at Connor and purred contentedly like a kitten. It was the morning after prom and hot prom sex. They were lying upon each others' arms contentedly near a small lake garden not far from their high school.
It had been the night after prom. They had gone with different dates because they had "broken up" over a big fight a few weeks earlier. Connor had taken someone from the geek clique as his date (which later left early after drinking a little too much gin and tonic), while Tracey had taken some douche named, Andy Fisher as her own. After a brief scuffle involving alcohol, the punch bowl and Mr. Fisher touching his date the wrong way in the wrong places, Tracey drove away from the prom in her dad's Toyota.
She later found Connor sitting near a bus stop with his suit covered with his date's barf. Because she still cared about him and because she felt sorry for him, she picked him up.
That was a nice start but once again, things quickly turned sour. They soon began arguing over the same issues that caused their break up in the first place. It was mostly about Connor's recent trip to Wolfram and Hart, his newfound coldness and the fact that he was no longer like the geeky guy she knew. He was different and he refused to talk about it.
"Look I'm sorry I asked Andy, okay? It's just that you've been so distant lately. I know I started the fight and I know that I was being a bitch!"
"I'm sorry Trace," Connor said with a sarcastic tone. "I guess I'm having a hard time getting used to the fact that I survived a near fatal injury from a speeding van."
"Well, it's only going to get harder if you're not going to talk about it…"
"Believe me Trace, even if I could tell you, you wouldn't even believe a single word I'd say. I sure as hell don't"
"Connie, you used to tell me everything."
"That's right. I used to tell you everything."
Tracy looked at Connor with pained look in her eyes and Connor was sorry for what he said.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean that…I'm… I'm sorry."
"Connie. Just tell me what happened. I mean, it can't be that bad. What did you discover in that place anyway, demons and vampires?"
Connor paled for a second but he quickly covered his discomfort and laughed at the joke that wasn't a joke. "I can't, Trace, okay? I just… Please, just… I can't be strong about this. Please! I'm scared and I just want to rest." Tracey saw the pain in Connor's eyes – his suffering. She didn't understand where all that pain and darkness came from. It was as if a deluge was erupting from within Connor's soul – something that shouldn't be there was escaping and it was consuming the Connor Reilly she knew. But it was all subconscious and she ignored the true depths of the problem.
It was already the last days of his high school life when Connor and his parents visited Wolfram and Hart. When they returned, it was not the same Connor they brought home with them. It was somebody else – somebody darker.
This new Connor Reilly was more secretive. He smiled and laughed. He made with the small talk. He did all the things that Connor Reilly had always done, but there was always something off about him. It was as if he was playacting – always trying to put on a façade, trying so very hard to be casual.
"It's the eyes," people who knew Connor would say in one form or another, "I can't quite put my finger on it but it's like there's a hidden depth there within those eyes – something that shouldn't even be there.
Laurence, Colleen and Connor's sister had noticed the change too but they were too confused to ask the right questions. All they could do was flounder in the dark, looking for some way to repair that unspoken connection with Connor, but always for naught.
However, the love was never damaged and it was still there, but there was something different about it all now. That difference was neither good nor evil. It was just different.
Everyone in the neighborhood had seen Connor's parents when they first came back from that Wolfram and Hart place. They looked like they had gone through some difficult ordeal. They did their best not to talk about the matter, which meant that whatever had happened, it was truly serious.
Tracey didn't like the changes and it eventually led to a good old fashioned fight. Suffice to say, it didn't end well. Tracey broke up with Connor - tears of rage running down her cheeks. After all they've been through. After all the time that they've spent together, Connor decided to just suddenly, from out of the blue, decide to become someone else and start keeping secrets. Goddam men!
Over the next few weeks leading up to prom, Connor had spent his time brooding. A lot of that time was spent on self-reflection. No one really knew the true depth of it except for Connor. No one could understand vampires, demons, hell dimensions or hell gods. All they really knew of the universe revolves around Sunday mass, mortgage sales and newspapers. No one understood the real score.
Except Connor. It was there in his head. The Orlon window had released more than just fragile memories. It also released power - unbridled power. Connor felt that power within him, coursing through his veins. That power was reaching out to something – something that terrified him in his sleep.
The memory of Tracy faded into something else. He remembered his entire family as a child – Laurence, Colleen, and even his sister Kit as a little baby - only now, the memory was like a corrupted code with bits and pieces of it missing.
A birthday party, a trip to the movies, and a sunny visit to the beach – There were pieces missing to them, and the old feeling of emptiness, of existential despair returned. And he felt himself slipping back into that dark moment when he tried to kill himself in that goods store.
Connor tried to grasp the missing threads of this memory but it kept slipping away, eluding his best efforts to keep it intact. It was like drowning, in one's own mind. Insanity and madness. That was it! Connor knew that he was going insane. Whatever Marastoth did to him, it was tearing away at the last bits and pieces of his humanity.
However, that was not what scared Connor. What scared him was that he was welcoming it – glad to be consumed by the darkness – to finally rest from the pain of having to go through life and the uncertainty of facing change in every waking moment.
He plunged back into the Quortoth's darkness, falling even further back into the pits of his own soul. Memories of the Kluthu gods, of Holtz, and of the dark tunnels that were buried beneath the world's surface, a labyrinth which lead further and further into eternity.
Connor felt this in his soul, taking over him. He expected this to be a ploy to accelerate the transformation of his demonic aspects, but something else was going on. . Connor felt himself turn into a mote, and the mote was suspended in darkness. It felt like madness, a battle between everything he knew - the human and the demon – and something else. He felt the touch of eternity. He had felt it before when he was awakened from the fugue of the Connor Reilly memories, but it was more than just awakening. He experienced something, more than what any human or demon could experience. This touch with eternity which was the home of his soul. It was the culmination of who he is and what he is. It corrected all the madness, both past and future. And he reveled in it, for he knew that this is what was supposed to happen. More than free will. More than destiny.
His human and demonic aspects staring into each other, and exposing both to be nothing more but illusions, the reality of who he really is finally exposed. Connor didn't understand what he was experiencing, nor did he think that he is meant to understand it. All he felt was certainty, a choice made in eternity and which echoes into life.
Connor felt lost in this sensation, but a voice summoned him back from the precipice of eternity. It was the voice of his human self. It was the voice of his powers, the demon within him. And something else.
"Connor, wake up," the voice commanded, "It's time to wake up." It was a female voice, a familiar female voice.
But Connor refused to listen. He wanted rest and sleep and peace. He languished in Coredlia's love, and among the faceless followers of Jasmine, his daughter. He felt nothing. He was nothing. And in this emptiness, all pain and all sorrow was ceased to be.
"Connor. People need you. You must wake up. Please."
The Kltuhu's face leered at him, daring him onward.
"Connor. Wake up." The light shown forth beckoning him to turn back from that eternity. "It's time to wake up."
"Dawn?" Connor asked, finally mustering enough will to ask.
"Yes, I'm here. I can help you. But you must wake up."
"I don't want to."
"I know, but a smart person once told me that the hardest thing in the world was to live in it. I'm asking you, please, find the strength to go on."
Connor remembered, remembered who he is, and in doing so, found a way to go back as he had so many times before, from Quortoth, from the despair of losing Cordelia, from the loss of his father and mentor Holtz, and now, Laurence.
And yet, something else was different. Something had changed. Connor had fixed something, something inside him, and this changed everything past and future. But it wasn't finished. He had to finish it, and he could only do it by going back.
"Connor, time to wake up," Dawn's voice commanded.
And Connor did just that.
Giles stopped the car near an alley and began their search by splitting into several groups. Outside, among the streets, there were hardly any people, and those who were present seemed to be in a hurry to get home. There was an evil mystery alive this night, and people felt it deep in their bones. This scared them. All pretense of civilization lost because of the knowledge of something unknown.
Good thing too. This made their search easier.
The alley looked liked an exposed, pulsating wound, bleeding like a tumor in the lonely night. Walls held a thick moisture as the distant sounds of the city screamed in a nightmarish shadow.
Dawn found Connor first. She knew where he was. When she found him, her gaze was stricken by the bits and pieces of human flesh near him,. She could not have known that to Connor, Laurence's – or what's left of him - represented Angel and Holtz - dead men and fathers. Whistler also saw this and went back into the car, muttering to himself. No one wanted to dissuade him. He was getting a bit unstable, and no one wanted to deal with that at the moment. He'll snap back to sanity soon enough.
Giles, Tracy and Dawn approached the almost Connor. They paused when some kind of demon jumped forward to bar their way. It looked like a metallic snake with claws, twisting its body in hostility. It hissed a menacing sound which caused Giles to put himself in between the creature and the girls.
"Relax," Tracy said, "that's Connor's… pet/sword thing-y."
Giles blanched at what she said. Whatever this thing may be it was clearly of demonic origins. Where did this boy get it?
Tracy pushed past the watcher and made eye contact with the Litany of the Abyss.
"Hey. Remember me." The creature snarled, it's metal like body twisting in open antagonism, but Tracy kept talking despite her fear. "Yeah, look we're here to help Connor. So you can either let us pass or we will figure out a way to take you out."
The Litany snarled and snapped Tracy, causing her to hide behind Giles again. The creature, as if understanding the situation, slid back into the shadows, letting the group pass, but watching them intently at the same time, red eyes glaring, making sure that they would not harm her master.
Dawn stared at Connor, while Giles tried to check up on Laurence's… remains.
"Mr. Reilly," Tracy whispered in despair. He had been so cool, when she was dating Connor in highschool. She remembered standing by them during the pregnancy scare. She can't believe he's dead.
Giles was more cool. He examined the mess, trying to ascertain the cause of death.
"Shit!" Tracy snapped and leaned back against the wall in despair.
"He killed himself. Sacrificed himself," Dawn explained, as she walked towards them.
"Why?" Giles asked.
"He was about to be possessed. He stopped that from happening," Dawn answered. This was his father – the father from his human memories - dead. She knew this by the psychic connection she had with him, and it galled her to imagine what could be going on in Connor's mind right now. Dawn was no stranger to a dead parent. She knew the pain, the fear and loneliness. She also knew how to deal with it, to put it into perspective, including the knowledge of living a fabricated memory-reality, but this…
She could only bring up memories of her mother. Joyce. The name conjured up a long lost pain.
And it was in this very moment, more than ever, that she understood why Whistler chose her to help him. They held a common bond. More specifically, a bond of humanity. When she first touched his mind with her own, it was not him that she really touched. It was his humanity, manufactured out of false memories for he was not human and never had been - just as she was not human. But hers was not slipping away, and so she was the only one who can save Connor's humanity - a valuable thread that's slowly slipping away.
She left Tracy and Giles behind, not really sure if they were following or not. She went back to Connor and saw that he had also tried to take his life… but something stopped him. And something happened. A demon? Dawn wondered. She didn't want to know. All she knew that she must not let him die.
As she knelt down, Dawn felt a deep connection with the angelic faced boy who had only recently tried to put himself out his misery. She understood what that felt like, the hidden pitfalls, the desire to be lost forever from the existential madness.
"Wake up Connor," she whispered to him.
Connor – Connor's humanity - felt Dawn's warmth. Her beauty. Her strength. She was incredibly strong, this young girl! Stronger than she might know. Connor understood real strength. He learned it the hard way, in Quortoth. He knew that it did not come from magicks, or power – it came from will and defiance – day after day of it. You can't grow up in hell without learning the value of true courage – to not give up, knowing that each day was a futile journey from one end of damnation to another.
Dawn's humanity reached out to him, and it reached back, dragging with it the greater power which sought to sleep into oblivion.
She was beautiful – her face bore soft tenderness, but there was fire in her eyes. She was beautiful, indeed, but, Connor was scared of her, at the same time – He suspected that she could see the real him – the part that was neither man nor destroyer but something more – something else. And, he was terrified of that – terrified at what he would see through her eyes. Connor was afraid of what he will find out about himself through another person, and that was more terrifying than he could ever express.
Cordy, Jasmine and, sometimes, even Holtz… yes, even Holtz did not really know Connor – not the deepest side of him. Oh, sure he went along with their farce – and their little agendas, but it was always on the false hope that he mistakenly longed for – that somehow their motives in loving him were not cynical or self serving. But he always knew the truth – the truth that he, at some point or another, was clinging to a desperate illusion of false love - illusions. That's my life – going from one lie to another, hoping that the latest one is real. Trying the same thing, expecting different results. You really are insane.
But, they all turned out to be bitter disappointments – he just exchanged one set of lies after another; even this one, even the glorious reprieve that is Connor Reilly.
He didn't want to think about it – those mistakes – those failures. Even this, even his family – they're all but an illusion of love.
I suppose, it's my fault too. I was so desperate to earn their love that I wasn't willing to show them what they wanted to see – until it was too late… for all of us. For me. All over again. Dad…
It's not too late…
Maybe the only thing that is real about me is that I am a demon. I wear humanity like a mask, hoping that it will be as real as I want it to be. But, they're just lies – Connor Reilly and Steven Holtz – big damn, fucking lies! I should've listened to Marastoth, Angelus. They know the truth… even when we were in Qourtoth.
"I don't want to be a demon," Connor muttered through the nausea and the painkillers.
You're not a demon, Connor.
"I am. The human part in me is a lie – always had been. Just like old Angel – wearing a damn mask. You want to know why I don't want to be a demon?" Connor chuckled a bit. Dawn was scared of the hysteria in his voice. "It has nothing to do with being evil or being a champion of good – that's just something I used to tell myself to prove that I was Steven Holtz. No, the real reason was that… I didn't… want to be… alone. What would have become of me… if I couldn't be Steven Holtz or Connor Reilly or even Connor Angel? I'm scared of being alone." A slight laugh and he began to ramble. "Can you believe it? Me, a demon? A hell god perhaps? Me, the Anti-Christ? Hey, maybe they'll even make a movie about it? Or perhaps a book. Or better yet, a PS2 game? Wouldn't that be so badass?" Connor wept a bit after that inglorious prattle.
Please, you must come back.
"Only Quortoth is real…. Only Power… I should have listened… In the end, they were right. I was wrong."
"That's not true," Dawn's voice became clearer. Solid sound.
"Isn't it? The only reason that everything is going to hell in a hand basket is because I chose to ignore what I knew to be true. I never wanted to be a god, or a messiah, or a champion. I only wanted to love… to be loved… Feel it… but, that's not real. None of it is…"
"Now you listen to me dammit! People do love you Connor. And, you have the capacity to love."
"I feel nothing... I'm nothing… I'm empty… That's what destruction is." His sight became focused and the darkness of the dream world had passed away to reveal the light once more. Connor looked at Dawn's face, confused and a little scared.
"How'd you find me?"
Dawn tapped Connor's head. "You can thank Whistler for that."
"I'm not thanking him for anything. I still don't trust him."
"He trusts you."
Connor ignored the last part and sat up. He was sitting on a couch. They, yes they, were in a small room. The lights dim and he smelled others in it. One was Tracy… Tracy? I told her to stay put. Dammit! The other was Whistler and the last one was an unidentified male. They were talking outside the room. He could hear what they were talking but he chose to ignore them for now.
"Where are we?"
"One of the Council's safehouses. We'll be safe here."
"There's no such place." Connor sorted out his memory, tried to think, think of what exactly was happening to him and what Marastoth had done to him. As he did this, he remembered his father. He's dead. He's dead. He wished it to be a dream but it wasn't. Laurence Reilly was dead. A nightmare made real. His life was collapsing.
"My dad…"
"Giles," Dawn licked lips thoughtfully, "he… he took care it. We'll take care of it." Dawn was hesitant but she asked nonetheless, "What happened to him?"
Connor spoke as if in a fugue. "He killed himself. Demons were trying to possess him… Marastoth blew it up just to piss me off." The gravity of the situation smashed into him once again. "Oh god… Dad." He put his head down and became very quiet, in pain and in suffering.
Dawn looked down. Despite the nightmare that was erupting all around them, she could not even begin to comprehend the living hell that Connor was suffering. His resolve was collapsing, and she desperately wanted to help.
"My mom… died. I know what it's like." She said awkwardly.
"Did your mom kill herself because a demon god was trying to possess her body?"
"No. It was an aneurysm."
Connor became quiet. The devil in him wanted to say something clever but the impulse quickly died away. And so he became deathly quiet. What happened next was both a surprise and unexpected.
Dawn drew close and gave kissed Connor on the lips. She didn't know if it was their psychic link or some unrequited attraction but she enjoyed the action very much.
Dawn didn't know what came over her, but she liked how the kiss felt. Strangely, he tasted like oreos… yes, oreos, smelled of sweat and tears – deep, primal and powerful but also quirky and naive. Filled with suffering and hidden knowledge. Dawn quickly pulled away as she realized that Connor wasn't returning her affections.
"We can never be lovers," Connor muttered, and he regretted saying that after he saw the pain in her eyes. "We're too much alike." The lie came easily. He didn't want to tell her the real reason. You can see me Dawn. You can see the real me. I'm afraid of that – terrified even. I only want people to see the human in me – it doesn't matter if it is broken or in good working order – I only want them to see the human part in me. I don't want to look into your eyes and see only the demon staring back. I can't. I'm scared of it.
"Besides, your sister and my old man did the ditty bang bang. The last thing I need is to have sex with an Aunt figure."
Dawn laughed it out, but she felt something within that may have been pain. "Sorry. I didn't know why I did that. It's just that…. Sorry. Sorry."
Connor remained quiet.
Dawn looked at him like she wanted to take him into her arms and tell him that it was going to be alright – this creature that had mercilessly slaughtered countless demons in a blind rage – this boy who was so utterly broken now. She tried talking to him but he didn't respond and so she remained quiet. She heard Giles and Tracy outside. They were talking. It was mostly Giles asking Tracy about what she knew about Connor.
Good, Dawn thought. She needed time to think. She looked at Connor again, who now looked liked he was waking up from his trance. They all needed time to think.
Several minutes of silence passed, and Dawn never left Connor's side. Giles and Tracy found them this way. They asked a few questions about Connor, and so did Dawn, but he gave no sign that he even heard them. He just sat there staring at empty space, living in a world only he could understand. All three of them had something to ask. How did Laurence die? What's going on? Are you okay? What happened? He ignored them all and just sat there.
Something was wrong with him – not evil – something else something dangerous. Tracy wanted to stay with him, but Giles motioned her to follow him so that they could discuss what she knew about Connor in further detail. And as much as he despised the idea of leaving Dawn with Connor, or any boy for that matter, he told her to watch over him and to report any changes in his state.
Moments passed before Connor made any overt move. When he did, he touched the scars on Dawn's belly.
"How do you do it?" He asked.
"Do what?"
"Find peace. You said it yourself. Half of your life's a lie. How can you go through each day knowing that you're nothing but an illusion?"
The words hurt Dawn – it was a reminder of something that she despised to think about. But here it was, reeling itself up again. Dawn wanted to snap at Connor but she didn't. There was something innocent in the way he said his words. That was the thing that Dawn found most intriguing about Connor. He seemed somehow innocent, like a little lost boy.
A little lost boy with dark and unnatural powers…
"Practice," she said shrugging her shoulders, "that and I have people who care about me." She took away Connor's hand from her belly. "I know you're hurting, and frankly, what you did was insane."
"Do what?"
Dawn pointed an accusing finger at Connor's bandaged wrists.
"You don't know what it's like," he rasped, "the human part in me – the part that had never been real. It's dying, turning into something else…"
"The demon is taking over?" she asked with serious concern. She knew what was inside him. She knew it from first hand experience when her mind touched his own.
"No, it's something else, something different. I don't know what it is exactly. I can't describe it. It's like I know that it was meant to happen and yet it's all tangled up." He looked at her gravely. "Marastoth – he did something to me. He released something that I was trying to bottle up."
Dawn didn't know what to say. "What's happening to you?" was all she could ask in a concealed tone.
Connor never answered her. His gaze became drawn inward and he became lost in whatever vision was within him. And so Dawn left to consult Giles on what to do next. Instead, she found Tracey sitting calmly on a nearby bench, looking a bit dazed.
"Trace, Where's Giles?"
"British guy? He went back to the car. He looked a little messed up after we found Connie. Guess he couldn't believe that a vampire's child existed. I still couldn't believe it."
"Join the club," Dawn sat next to her. "Did Giles say anything?"
"Nope. Just got really quiet. He wanted to talk to Connor, but he thought it best to give him some space after the…" she shrugged, trying hard not to think about Connor's attempted suicide nor of the events that drove him to it.
That sobered Dawn up and she redirected the conversation elsewhere. "What did Giles do with… the um, body?" Tracy's face became even more grim. "We took it to the car. He said he could pull some strings, but…" her voice trailed off. "Is he okay?" Tracey asked finally.
"Yeah," Dawn lied with some misgiving. "He's resting now."
Tracey looked haggard and tired. No one could blame her. Her entire life has been turned upside down these past few days. However, considering the circumstances, she was doing exceedingly well.
"I remember when I first met Connor, you know back when we were still kids. It was in fifth grade. I was having my badass goth phase and he was a crazy smart mouth little piss."
Despite herself, Dawn liked Tracey. She reminded her of all the strong women she grew up with. Regardless of the fact that she could have been Faith's long lost sister and the undeniable fact that she was two pills short of psychotic breakdown, Dawn found her honesty and candor very appealing.
"Everybody was always picking on him - the no-neck jock straps and the white trash deadbeats." Tracey lit a smoke and offered one to Dawn. Summers declined.
"I don't smoke."
Tracey shrugged and continued on with her story. "Me, I was running with a bad crowd at that time. My parents had recently gone through an ugly divorce and my mom ran off with some guy who was like 15 years younger than her. I was determined to reinvent myself into a bitch. It seemed," she laughed a little, "a good idea, you know?" Tracey was uneasy telling a stranger about her past – uneasy that she might not understand.
"Oh, believe me. I understand completely. Every girl these days seem to go through that kind of crap."
Tracey smiled, glad that she had understood. "Anyway, everybody enjoyed giving Connor a hard time. All the guys at school made it a point to kick his ass to prove a point. I lined up for the job too and I gotta tell ya, I think that SOB actually got off from having his ass kicked... You think I'm batshit crazy, don't you?"
"Hey, my sister's the slayer. Don't tell me what's crazy. I eat it for breakfast."
Tracy chuckled. "We hit off a little later. It was a great, kinky little time. Then college came…" she rolled her eyes. "then the drama, and then him going to that fucking law firm and…" she waved her hands, "then breaking up, then going to college, then seeing each other again in college, then trying out a long distance relationship, then failed and then back to more drama with all this messed up with demon magic hocus pocus crap."
"Welcome to my world," Dawn said flatly.
"Of course, none of it really happened, what with the whole fabricated memories and all." Tracy sighed deeply. Talking about all this felt good. "I wish I never stayed. I wish I never knew Connor's secret."
"Too late for that now. And besides, it's not like we had a choice." Dawn was referring to the hidden machinations of various forces and individuals, which conspired to bring all of them together.
Giles came back from the car, his hair tousled and looking even grimmer. In the distance, sirens began to wail and the deepening melancholia became even more pronounced, and the certainty of danger welled up inside them all.
"Dawn, may I speak with you," Giles motioned Dawn to follow him.
Dawn rose and stood before Dawn with a little awkwardness. She bit her lip nervously. "Look after him okay."
"Dawn wait." Tracey closed her eyes and she finally spoke. "You have a thing for him?"
"No." Dawn said a little too quickly. "Why? Do you still have a thing for your high school sweetheart?"
Tracey cocked her head to one side with a disturbed look. "Oh come on. You entered the guy's mind."
"I wish I hadn't."
Tracy chuckled to cover the awkward moment.
"I'm not trying to steal him if that's what you're thinking. Wait. No, it's not. It's just…" Tracy bit her lower lip.
"We live in the same demon-infested, magic-ridden world?"
"Yeah."
"Well, you're part of that now."
Tracy chuckled once more.
"And don't worry. He's cute, but I'm not stealing him from you," Dawn felt her chest tighten at the lie. He kissed Connor… "Girl rules."
Tracy did not speak, just smiled at her.
Giles lead Dawn to a small enclosure away from the sound of sirens. At first Giles had trouble framing his thoughts, but eventually he found his words.
"Did he say anything to you?"
"He rambled a lot. He, um… something's changed in him."
"He's turning into a demon."
"No, something else. Not demon. Not human either. Giles, I don't think we really understand what's going on here."
"Well, we can all research it when we get back."
"Have you told Buffy yet?"
"Not yet. I want to wait until we get back home. In the meantime, I want you to tell me exactly what happened to him in the hotel, and why his father's dead."
"You already know."
"I want to hear it again and I want to hear it from you," Giles' voice was strict.
Considering her fatigue, her fears and the pressures, Dawn became nice and bitchy. "Connor's dad killed himself rather than be possessed by demon. Connor tried to kill himself rather than be possessed by a demon! How's that?"
Giles became grim. He had heard it all before, but he still could hardly believe any of it.
Connor. Angel's son.
"What do you want from me, Giles?" Dawn said in an irritated tone. "I don't know what the hell he is. All I know is that he's turning into something…" She paused and then took back what she said. "I don't know what he's turning into, but it's messing with his mind."
Giles said nothing but he began cleaning his glasses and then took a very deep breath. "I didn't mean to push you, but your sister doesn't know we're here, and when I reveal to her our little secret," Giles cocked his head in Connor's direction, "I want to tell her something convincing. We need to tell her something convincing."
"I know, but it's not as simple as that!" Dawn sat down and her shoulders sagged in defeat. Giles sat down next to her and held her close.
"You're not enamored with the lad are you?" Giles teased.
Dawn frowned at the watcher. "It's nothing like that. It's something else."
"Oh? Well, I'm glad it's strictly platon…"
"Giles, be serious. I'm trying to tell you something."
"Sorry. Do continue."
"He's changed. It's like he used to be this divided being - half human and half demon. Two parts fighting each other in one body."
"You knew this because of your link with him?"
Dawn nodded.
Giles' face became grim. "How has that changed?"
"They're gone now. The only that remains is this… this thing that I'm not sure I really understand."
Giles became thoughtful. He needs to contact Buffy, and soon. Looking at Dawn, he was going to ask another action, but it was interrupted by a sudden rumbling and the sound sirens.
Tracy and Whistler barged into the room, as surprised as everyone else. Giles took the lead to take a peek from a nearby window and signaled the others to remain where they are as he tried to examine exactly what was going on outside. What greeted him was a terrifying site, for outside the streets of Los Angeles were covered by a menacing fog. No area of space was spared from this phenomenon, and something told Giles that is was going to become a lot worse.
Outside, people were already beginning to panic, trying to find shelter and a way to safety. Those who were caught by the vile gas were struck down.
Dawn pushed her way past Giles to see what was going.
"Giles, what's happeni… Oh."
And the fog spread like vile pus throughout the city.