Connor sat on the stairs, unwilling to join the team but never going far from the fight. No one was in the lobby at the moment so he was alone in his own reverie. It was Angel who broke it by approaching. Angel, who was the one person-or not-that Connor feared. He was the only one who knew what had happened, save for Fred, though she had been cold to him lately. As if she too had no idea.

Angel stood in front of Connor. Above him. Almost standing over him, though the horizontal distance between them made their eyes hit about even. Connor tried to hide his surprised expression by giving his head a small tilt, antagonistically questioning Angels sudden appearance.

Fred found herself lost, it was strange to her how one person could spin her out of control like this. She was stronger than that, but it was the memories of Pylea that got to her. Her one weakness. None of them could see how affected she was by the memories, except Connor. It was the knowledge that someone else could read her that did it, she thought. It's his fault for knowing her pain, for treating her as if it was real.

Just as seeing her parents again had proven that Pylea was real, that her life had actually happened, and just how unnatural it was.

She never wanted to be affected this much by one person.

"What happened the other night..."

"Had nothing to do with you," Connor finished.

"Fred's suffering now, you'd have to be blind if you can't see it," Angel looked his son straight in the eye as he spoke.

"She needed me," Connor replied.

"Did she, or was it the other way around?" Angel saw Connor flinch, he had hit a nerve.

"I didn't mean-"

"To hurt her? To break her? To kill her? What you don't mean to do keeps happening, doesn't it?"

"It was one night. You don't even know what happened," Connor's eyes blazed. "I went to her room, she fucked like a tease. I told her I would kill her enemies, she told me she wanted me dead. This isn't one of those situations you can turn into good versus bad, it's not black and white."

This was too much for Angel. He couldn't listen to his son speak like this about anyone, let alone Fred. Innocent Fred. He turned away.

"Don't make me the bad guy because you think you understand me. You understand me about as much as you understand Fred. You don't."

"Are you telling me to blame her for what happened?"

"I'm telling you to leave both of us alone! Why do you feel the need to blame someone. This is sick, Angel. Everything about this is sick," Connor stood up. "She would never let it happen again. She told me that. We can't even be friends now. It's done."

Angel turned to see his son stalking up the stairs, and noticed a small movement behind a plant. A figure slipping out of sight. He was surprised he hadn't seen her earlier, smelled her tears, heard her pain. He felt slightly ashamed as he watched Fred slip away from the scene.

Connor's last words were still in his head when Angel realized that Connor had more than screwed the situation up. Fred was reliant on Connor. This would have to be fixed. It was then that Angel made up his mind.

This was all going to end.