Chapter Eighteen
And now I try hard to make it
I just want to make you proud
I'm never gonna be good enough for you
I can't pretend that
I'm alright
And you can't change me
Perfect -Simple Plan
"I'm telling you, she's after you, Gunn," Connor said, as Willow bound his leg wound after taking the time to cleanse the wound well. She blithely ignored his grunts of pain. Connor tried to ignore the audience he had in the living room. Didn't they get tired of having so many people around all the time? Giles and Wes were still working the books. At least Faith and Spike seemed to be out as was Xander, Dawn and Cordy. Still, that left half the team seeing him half-naked as Willow patched him up.
"Why would she be after Charles?" Fred melted into her husband's side as they sat on the couch. "You have to be wrong." The look in her eyes said it might have been something Connor dreamed up in a drug induced haze.
"I agree with Connor," Angel said, placatingly, glancing over at Connor as if to supervise Willow's treatment of him. "The demoness didn't say much but I came to the same conclusion."
"And she's pissed that you have kids by someone other than her, Gunn," Connor added as Willow switched her attention to his head wound. He tried not to wince as her talented fingers probed his wounds. "Try to go light on the gauze if you can, Willow. It's going to be hard enough to find work looking like I escaped from the Egyptian display at the museum." Connor expertly ignored several of the sharp looks shot his way at that but he did spare the time to show Angel the defiant glint in his eyes. He might hate what he was but he'd be damned if they knew it.
"It makes sense and it goes with the white board layout. Gunn had contact with almost every victim who wasn't homeless," Buffy said, gesturing to the interconnections Kate had made on the board.
"But why would a demoness want to kill me?" Gunn's eyes were on that board, tracking his connection to the evil outside. "I mean without me provoking her first."
"That's what we have to find out," Wesley put in, setting aside his book to glance at the board as well.
"Or if she even wants you dead," Connor said, thinking about the demon's motivations. He had grown up trying to determine what demons were thinking. "She's looking for you but who knows if she actually wants to kill you or not."
"Connor has a point," Giles said, taking his glasses off for a polish. "It's too early to know what her purpose is and the remark about Joshua is most peculiar, as if she thinks she had a claim on you, Gunn."
"All I know is she's killing people and Charles is mine," Fred said, giving her husband a kiss. Connor heard the underpinning of fear in her voice.
"We need to do more research," Wesley said, rubbing his tired eyes. "We still don't know nearly enough about this creature."
"We learned that she doesn't like it when she's going up against people of equal strength," Connor said sardonically as Willow finished bandaging him up. "She took off pretty damn fast when faced with me and Dad."
Angel couldn't help the subtle pleased look on his face when Connor called him 'dad.' "Connor's right. She didn't want to deal with us. We got a very good look at her. I'll draw up a new sketch."
"I think we should take Candelaria's suggestion and concentrate on the Mayan connection." Giles' voice betrayed his exhaustion. He put his glasses back on, squinting at the stack of books.
Angel just nodded, putting a hand on Connor's shoulder. "We've done as much as we can tonight. We need a break. Why don't I help you upstairs, Connor? He should rest, shouldn't he, Willow?"
Willow bobbed her head, packing up her medical bag. "It would be good."
Connor slowly got up. He wasn't about to argue. He was in pain. All he wanted to do was just lie down and let the ache fade from his body. Connor flinched when Angel touched him. He looked at his dad apologetically. "That was just pain, not..."
Angel smiled softly, obviously thinking he was making headway with him. Connor knew his own defenses were down, too weary to keep them up. "Lean on me, give the leg a rest. We can go up the elevator."
Connor returned the smiled and leaned his weight on Angel. His father wrapped his arm around him, helping him into the elevator and finally into his room.
"Is there anything you need?" Angel looked worried. It was making it hard on Connor to maintain his anger at the man.
Connor shook his head, instantly regretting it as pain flared behind his eyes. "I just need some rest." He stretched out on the bed, trying to pull the covers down while laying on them.
"It's not been easy on you, has it? This week hasn't been your best, between the demoness and rogue slayers," Angel said sympathetically, helping Connor with the viciously colored bedspread.
"And finding out about the truth about myself, don't forget that." Connor smiled ruefully. It felt like decades instead of days since Angel came back into his life. The experience made him feel old and worn like the thin-fabric clothing he got from the mission.
Angel snorted, a sound somewhere between amused and concerned. "Like I said, rough."
Connor managed a short bark of bitter laughter. "Always the master of understatement."
Angel patted his son's arm. "Anything I can do for you, Connor? Are you hungry?"
"There are those cookies in the top drawer," Connor said, and Angel bounded over to the dresser, happy to have something he could do for his child. As he unwrapped the high protein cookie, Connor added, "And you can take back all the clothing you bought."
Angel's face fell, his eyes glistening like wet marbles, broadcasting the emotional hurt. "Why?"
Connor looked at the cracked grayed paint on the wall. "Because they're too good for me."
"No, they're not." Angel's voice took on that 'I know best' tone that Connor loathed. "I want you to have the clothing for later, when you're well again."
Connor's vision shifted to the dust web in the corner, anywhere but at Angel. "What makes you think that's going to happen?"
"I..." Angel sagged, crushed. Connor braved a look and saw how much Angel had been hoping to get his son back happy and whole. He was willing to ignore reality in that quest. "You said you got clean once before for your sister but there was no one there to catch you if you fell. I'm here now."
Connor's eyes went wet, and he turned from his father. He didn't want Angel to know that he was breaking through the armor. Connor's stubborn pride wouldn't let him. "It was so hard and I was so sick...and almost no one cared. I never felt so alone."
Sitting on the bed, Angel gently rubbed Connor's back. "You aren't alone any more, not if you don't want to be."
That broke past the last of Connor's resolve. Tears fell hot and fast. He felt like a little boy who had a nightmare and wanted comforted. Ironic, since Holtz considered that a weakness. "I hate myself, and I hate the prison I made for myself."
Angel scooped his son up as tenderly as he could and held him. He shuddered as Connor wrapped his arms around him and held on. It felt awkward and natural at the same time to Connor. Only at this close range, he could hear nothing and that lack of a heart beat was chilling. "There's a key to this prison, son." Angel hugged him hard. "I know it'll take you time but Lorelei is here to help, and if you need to go back into a program, she'll make it happen. I'm not done fighting for you."
"Thanks, Dad," Connor muttered, forgetting for a moment all his hatreds. "All I give you is hate but you won't let it go at that."
"Because I don't believe you despise me." Angel's hand soothed Connor's hair, cautious of the wound on the back of his son's head. "You might loathe yourself for knowing that I love you and the fact that you want to be loved."
"I think I hate everything," Connor whispered, too weak to hold back his feelings.
"It's time to let that all go, son." Angel held Connor tighter. He didn't reply. He just went very quiet for a long time, slowly getting heavier and looser limbed in Angel's arms. Realizing Connor was almost asleep, Angel set him down on the mattress. Connor's almond-shaped blue eyes opened slightly. "Didn't mean to wake you back up," Angel said. "That bed is pretty hard."
"Like a rock," Connor murmured, burying his face in the stale feather pillow. "It's okay. I don't mind."
Angel fixed the covers around him. "Sleep well, son."
X X X
Connor surprised himself by getting up very early. He used just a little heroin to take the edge off. It seemed like he was using less and less, partly because he had other things to occupy his time and partly because he was ashamed. Maybe there was hope for him after all. Going downstairs, Connor found the hotel buzzing with activity as everyone was sitting down to breakfast. Well, almost everyone. Willow, Cordy, Spike and Xander were already gone or not yet awake. Having Joshua at the table, his little legs dangling with youthful energy, made it seem like a strange Norman Rockwell picture. The room smelled warm and spicy.
"Hi, son," Angel said, looking like he needed to go find his bed. Connor nodded his greeting.
Dawn smiled at him, glancing up from a little pad she was doodling on. "There's a crock pot full of real oatmeal and blueberries, not that instant junk. Help yourself."
Connor smiled back. Having Dawn around made him feel somehow serene. "Thanks." He took a little, and then looked at the array of sweeteners and heavy cream. He mixed in some honey and cream and a heavy dose of cinnamon and touch of nutmeg. He sat down next to Faith.
"How's your head, kid?" Faith touched his bandaged temple.
"Throbbing," he answered honestly. Faith made him feel anything but serene. She excited things in him he thought long dead. "But compared to the last time I went up against her, I'm doing just fine."
"I don't like that the demoness seems to be getting closer to where we live," Buffy grumbled, hitting her oatmeal with more cinnamon. Angel waved away some reddish-brown blow back.
"My parents are on a cruise or else I'd send Josh for a visit," Fred said with a nervous glance at her son. Josh was oblivious to his mother's hidden meaning, as he cut trails in the remains of his oatmeal.
"I never get to see grandma and grandpa," Josh said, disappointment on his face.
"Is it really bad that I don't have friends outside of this city...just in case Josh needs to...uh visit, if you know what I mean," Fred said, sounding to Connor that she had accepted his theory on who the demoness really wanted. He was pretty sure getting the boy out of town would be a good idea.
"I think it's kinda natural," Buffy replied, placatingly. Giles lowered the paper he was reading, just enough to nod his agreement. "But a little unfortunate."
"Well, Vonna is willing to keep Josh longer after school," Fred said, relief in her eyes. She pushed away an almost full bowl of oatmeal. Gunn shot her a worried look.
"Vonna?" Connor questioned curiously. He didn't know why he felt it was his business other than he always felt protective of kids.
"She's my friend, Thomas's fiancée. She lives just one block from school so it's very convenient for Josh to stay there after school," Gunn replied, reaching over, shaking his son's shoulder playfully.
"Has to be nice that you can stay with your Dad's friend," Connor said to Joshua. He hated the thought the kid might be somehow afraid of him so he wanted to be as friendly as he could.
Josh grinned. "She's a lot of fun. I like Vonna."
"Glad to hear it, kiddo." Fred leaned over and kissed her son's forehead. "I'll make sure Vonna knows what's going on so she can be extra careful."
"She knows about our world?" Connor asked, surprised. He took a bite of the thick savory hot cereal.
"Thomas was part of my original vampire hunting group. He brought it back to what I originally wanted for it, after it got off track," Gunn replied, looking a little less put out that Connor was talking to his son. Fred still seemed to think he'd hook Josh on drug just by breathing the same air as the boy.
"I remember you telling me about the group," Connor said, almost enjoying talking like they were revisiting the old days with just him, Fred and Gunn.
"Connor," Lorelei broke in, shooting him an apologetic look. She held her tea cup out to Giles who refilled it obligingly. "I've an open hour this morning. Would you like to talk with me?"
Connor nodded. "I'd like that. Angel and I were talking last night about me trying to get myself together. Finding out what if anything is really wrong here," Connor tapped his forehead, "will help in putting me back together."
"You're sick?" Joshua piped up, ignoring his mother's attempt to hush him.
"Yes, but you don't have to worry. It's not anything you or your mom and dad can catch," Connor said reassuringly. "Lorelei is going to help me get well."
"I hope it doesn't take long," Joshua said, smiling at him.
Connor grinned back. He liked the little kid. "Thanks."
"Josh, you better finish getting ready for school," Fred said, glancing up at the clock.
"Okay, Mom." Joshua jumped up and headed upstairs.
"He's a sweet kid," Connor said, forcing himself to eat more of his oatmeal. He wondered what his father was thinking, given how silent the vampire was. He could feel Angel's eyes on him.
"Thanks, we're proud of him," Gunn said, his eyes tracing his son's departure.
"I can see why." Connor took another mouthful of cereal.
"You're doing good with the oatmeal." Dawn waved at the bowl as Faith got up and put her bowl in the sink before leaving.
Connor smirked. "I've a little bit of an appetite today."
"That's good," Angel said, looking as happy as if Connor had announced something major.
"Connor, I have something that I'm not sure you'd want to see. You might but it might make you sad instead," Dawn said, twirling a long lock of hair around a finger.
He studied her pretty face for a moment. "Well, I'm curious now."
"Do you remember the video Haven shot of you for her art project?" Dawn asked, downing the last of her orange juice.
Connor thought for a moment. That was a lifetime ago. "Yeah. It was supposed to be action footage. Haven wasn't thrilled with the assignment. It wasn't her medium."
"I didn't like it much either but I remembered last night that these projects were all in the school's archives. I downloaded her film but I wasn't sure how you'd feel about seeing something from back then," Dawn said, conflicted feelings flickering in her eyes. She was actually worried about his feelings. How long had it been since anyone other than Angel had done that? A lump developed in his throat.
Connor ran his fingers through his long hair. "I...don't know. I think I would like to see her project again. I guess if it's hard, I can talk to a psychiatrist." Connor smiled over at Lorelei, who nodded encouragingly.
"I'd like to see it if you don't mind, Connor," Angel said, quietly. He looked askance at his son as if unable to face any rejection.
Connor glanced at his father and saw the desperate desire to be part of his life. He didn't have the heart to say no. "Sure. It's not that exciting, though, Angel. Just me indulging the hobbies I had back then. My dad had money so I was into snowboarding, parachuting, parkour and motocross, all kinds of expensive and extreme sports."
"Don't tell Joshua that. I'll never hear the end of it. He wants to get into the trick riding with his bike, and I don't want him doing anything that dangerous," Fred fretted, and Gunn rolled his eyes. Connor guessed this was an old argument.
"No, I won't say anything," he promised. Connor wanted to make some kind of peace with Fred. "Let Angel see the video first, Dawn. Give me a little time to work up to seeing 'Man in Motion'."
"'Man in Motion'?" Buffy roused herself a little bit from her early morning stupor. Her eyes looked like glazed glass.
Connor looked at his remaining oatmeal, his appetite beginning to flag. "That was the name of the piece."
"No, it wasn't." Dawn's crystalline eyes danced with mischief.
Connor gave her a curious look. "Yes, it was."
"That's right, you didn't attend the showing," Dawn said, her brow creased as she went back over time.
"Usually I did but I had finals," he replied, a little dread tickling in his belly. "I couldn't make that show. What did Haven call the project?"
Dawn's lips parted in a wide smile. "Well, she put the recorder and TV screen inside a clay sculpture of a man's torso down to his thighs and if certain...um, parts were cast from you, I could see why Haven was always so happy." Dawn smirked.
"Dawn!" Buffy snapped, her cheeks flushed. Angel seemed equally embarrassed even if he couldn't blush.
Dawn tossed her long hair back. "What?"
"No one wants to hear about any of Connor's parts over breakfast. Faith's already left," Buffy said, glaring at her sister.
"Is that what she did with that penile representation? She never did tell me," Connor said, deciding to ignore Buffy's slight. Angel shot him an incredulous look. "What? Haven said it was for art."
"And it was," Dawn said, laughing. "Right at the pubic line, Haven made a slit for ballots. The title was 'Which is Bigger, Brains or Balls. You vote'."
Connor snorted, shaking his head. Yes, this was typical Haven behavior. "Let me guess, no one voted for my brains."
"No one." Dawn patted his shoulder.
"I'm so glad. I wouldn't want there to be any confusion on that point." Connor rolled his eyes.
"Guess your girlfriend was impressed with you." Gunn laughed.
"Tell me about it." Connor pushed his bowl aside.
"I had a girlfriend who wanted to do something like that in the 70's," Giles broke his silence, giving a sign he had been paying attention to any of them.
"And women say men are the perverts." Connor rolled his eyes. "I'd definitely want to get with you, Lorelei, before I start looking at times when I was happy." He licked his lips, unsure if he'd ever want to see happy times again. "You can watch it first, Angel."
"I think I'm afraid to see whatever this is," Angel said, a hint of a mischievous smile on his lips. "Your life has been...interesting."
"It's been a ride, I'll grant you that." Connor rubbed his chin, thinking back on his younger days. "Haven liked using me in her art."
"It's been a long time since you've modeled for me. You have compelling eyes. I want to use them again," Dawn said, tracing his brow.
"Dawn, you're starting to creep me out," Buffy said, wrinkling her nose, and Angel shot her a put-out look.
"Artists are a different bunch. I think that's why I always liked them, much to my parents' chagrin," Connor said.
"A shame. I've always liked artists," Angel said.
"Well, being one yourself, I can see why you would," Connor said, and then glanced over at Lorelei. "When would you like to talk to me?"
Lorelei brushed back a long lock of red hair. "We can start right now."
"Okay and later Giles, I can help you with the research," Connor said. "Just let me know what you need."
"Thanks, Connor," Giles said.
Connor got up and followed Lorelei to her office, feeling very nervous about opening up to anyone.
X X X
Connor knew he was totally useless to Giles, Spike and Wes during their research session. His time with Lorelei hadn't been easy. While she was kind and understanding, the questions were hard and the experience left him hollow and afraid. He had battled his emotions back with heroin, lots of it. He was higher than he'd been in days. He had fallen asleep right after shooting up, off on a fantastic nod. He couldn't concentrate on anything after he managed to drag himself back to the library. He felt stunningly embarrassed by his inability to help. He wished that he could just stop screwing up so much.
In the end, he agreed to help Dawn with her own study break, getting him away from the books and his inadequacies. He let her paint replicas of his eyes onto a black-washed canvas. She described her vision for the work. The surrealism of it appealed to him. He knew it might be while before his saw the finished work and he couldn't wait. They had been back at work in the library when Buffy and Angel came home for the evening and went up to their apartment. Giles, Wes, and Dawn were tracing down obscure texts in strange languages awhile he and Spike were dealing with the books and sites in English. Connor found a website in Spanish that had pictures of one of the Balam that looked sort of like the demoness but not exactly.
He was scrolling through the site when Buffy stalked down the steps, changed into casual clothes. Her face was stitched tight with anger. Angel trailed behind her, obviously upset. Buffy yanked Connor's chair away from the desk and spun him so he faced her. She clamped her hands down on the arms of the chair, leaning into his face.
"Why did you do it?" she growled, looking at him as if he were something to slay.
Connor pressed back in the seat to put some space between them. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm missing twenty dollars." Her tone suggested he was well acquainted with his crime. "Why did you take it?"
"I didn't," Connor replied, furious that she would accuse him. A glance at his father told Connor helped wasn't coming from that quarter, which shocked him. Usually Angel tried to mellow Buffy out.
"Did my twenty grow legs and walk off?" Buffy pushed off the chair. It spun. Connor stopped the arc, seeing Dawn, Spike, Giles, and Wes were watching this. His face burned with shame and anger.
"I don't know what the hell happened to your money," Connor growled, seeing Dawn start toward him but a look from Buffy stopped her. "I didn't take it."
Buffy jabbed her fists against her hips. "You've stolen from me before!"
"Once and I gave you back the change and worked off what I couldn't give back. And I admitted to it," Connor said, scratching at the healing track mark on his arm nervously, feeling like the room was turning against him.
"Just give her the money back, Connor. I don't even want to know why you took it," Angel said wearily. His eyes held deep disappointment in their dark depths.
Connor's jaw dropped. "Thanks for believing in me, Angel. I didn't take Buffy's damn money but don't believe me. What does it matter?" Connor got up and nearly knocked Buffy down as he brushed past her. He pulled away from her as Buffy made a grab for him.
Connor thundered up the steps, surprised that no one stopped him. He grabbed his works, to hell with them. To hell with the fact he was already high. He needed to escape this place where no one wanted him. Just when he thought maybe he could patch things up with his father, Angel thought he was a thief. Okay, he was but he had promised to not steal from Buffy. It hurt that his word meant nothing. He needed for the soul-deep ache to fade. He took out the little baggie of smack but didn't have time to knock some onto his spoon before the door opened. Angel stomped in, his face lined with anger.
"Just tell me why." Angel shut the door behind him.
"Thought you didn't want to know," Connor said, opening the baggie. He knew that was the wrong thing to say but he understood this path. This was easy, fighting with Angel. Fighting felt safer than being emotionally flayed open like last night. Hard and cruel was how his world was, everyone against him and Angel being all passive-aggressive with the I love you's while doing everything to prove those words to be a lie.
"I'm sure I can guess why." Angel grabbed the baggie away, and then snatched the needle out of Connor's fingers. Too stunned to stop him, Connor watched Angel flush the drugs and crush the needle against the wall.
Connor slammed a fist into the floor, and then jumped up to his feet, ignoring the twinge in his injured leg. "Why did you do that? That was the last of my candy."
Angel whirled on him and Connor thought he'd be going into a wall head first just like old times. "You're high enough."
"Go to hell. Now I have to go back out on the street but hey, what do you care?" Connor spat the words like rancid meat. "You can't even be bothered to believe me."
Angel got between him and the door. "You're not going out there."
"You going to fight me, Angel?" Connor growled, hoping so. That would be normal. Battling Angel was something he could understand. "Want me to go out the window? My leg still hurts but I could probably stick the landing."
Angel's jaw clenched but he stepped aside. Connor stood still for a moment, shocked that Angel wasn't going to push the issue. He expected his father to stop him or follow him but Angel didn't do anything, almost disappointing him.
Connor made it to the street without anyone bothering him. He nearly hoped for the demoness to cross his path. The rage bubbling in him needed an outlet, especially since he knew that he was angrier than he really should be over the accusations. The hurt was deeper than he would have expected and far more than he wanted. He needed to carve it out of him.
Connor made a call to Madam Dorion, knowing she had more brothels than the one the demoness had torn up. She was glad to hear from him and had work waiting for him, including two of his vampires who traded blood for smack. He could lose himself in the pain, blood, sweat and other bodily fluids. He understood this part of his world, too.
Sometime later he was cleaning up in the bathroom between tricks, feeling woozy from blood loss and narcotics when someone rapped on the door. Grimacing, Connor wished Dorion's manager here would give him a little down time. She was no Honey, who knew the benefits of a slightly rested whore. Connor went over and opened the door, feeling his stomach twist. He wished that anyone but his father was standing there. He should have known that Angel would follow him eventually, if just to be sure he was all right. He didn't think Angel would come in here. "Go away," Connor said, turning his back on him.
"You're coming with me," Angel said softly, and grabbed Connor's arm, turning him around. Angel couldn't meet Connor's eyes, however. His gaze lifted over Connor's shoulder to fix on the messy bed.
Connor didn't want to do this, to be standing in a little cell of a room reeking of sin, talking to his father. "I promised Dorion to be here until dawn."
Angel's thin lips pulled into a tight line. "She knows you won't be."
God, what had his father done now? Connor shook his head. "I don't want you seeing me like this," he whispered, stunned by the truth of those words.
"Do you think it's easy for me to see you dying a slow death, Connor?" Angel crossed over to him, suddenly looking less angry.
Connor bit back the tears. "Your wife wants her money back, and I need more heroin now, thanks to you, so I have to work."
"Think you'll survive another night like the last one you spent with Dorion?" Angel touched the bite marks on Connor's neck.
He couldn't abide this turn around. Angel had no right to go from loving to accusing and back again. It was too confusing. Connor needed Angel to find an emotion and stay there. Connor knew the one that made the most sense. "You should have thought of that before you flushed my smack."
Angel's hand came up before Connor could move and the open-hand slap landed hard on his cheek. He stumbled back against the bed, his suppressed rage finding its trigger with no anti-demon violence spell to stop them. Connor punched his father and quickly learned a lesson about suppressed rage. His couldn't compete against Angel's. He wondered dimly as Angel's fists slammed against his face and body if it wasn't rage so much as fear driving Angel. Whenever Angel seemed afraid, he always took it out on Connor with his fists. Usually, Connor could give as good as he got but tonight he couldn't stand up to the onslaught.
His father didn't even seem to notice the fight had gone out of him and that all Connor was doing was trying to protect his head as he curled into a ball on the soiled bedding. Tears mixed with his blood as he wept in pain.
Angel's hand suddenly gentled as they cupped his shoulder. "Connor, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean...I lost control," he said, his voice shaking.
"Leave me alone!" Connor sobbed, wiping blood from his lips. His ears rang and his stomach would have emptied if there had been anything in it.
"I'm sorry." Desperation and remorse cracked Angel's voice.
"Fuck off," Connor growled, trying to sit up. The room swam.
Angel's pleas were cut off as the door burst open and two security guards that Dorion used went after Angel. Connor knew they would only be momentary distractions. He shoved his feet into his boots, grabbed his shirt, money and newly earned heroin, and then ran. His vision still danced and swirled as he went.
Eventually he had to slow down or fall down. Connor knew Angel was right behind him. His father didn't speak to him or try to stop him. He figured Angel was looking out for him. Part of him cared but more of him was frightened at how vulnerable he was now. It seemed so foreign. He had barely put up a fight as Angel took him apart.
Connor went inside the Hyperion to where the research party was still going on. Cordy and Xander had joined them. Everyone hushed as he entered the room, blood caked on his face. He knew he had to look horrible. He could barely see out of one eye and could only imagine how purple it was. His split lip seemed too big for his face and tasted like a newly minted penny.
Connor held out twenty dollars to Buffy. She just looked at it as if she had never seen the like before. "Take it."
"What happened to you?" She made no move to claim her money.
He shook the bill. He couldn't tell them the truth. It would humiliate him and Angel. "Nothing."
"Connor, we're fighting a demoness with a grudge against us. 'Nothing' isn't going to cut it as an answer," Buffy snapped, still not taking the money.
He flung the bill in her lap. "I'm a rough trade prostitute. It's not like I don't get beaten up all the time. It's what they pay me for. They buy me, and I pay you the money I didn't steal."
"I'm betting you don't usually let them mess up your face." Buffy bounced her leg until the money fluttered off. She seemed determined not the touch the bill, as if it could infect her with something.
"He stole from you? You didn't steal from me too, did you?" Cordelia grimaced at him.
Connor sighed, wishing they'd all stop looking at him. "I didn't steal from anyone."
"I know how much money I had, and I know what I spend in a day. I'm missing twenty dollars," Buffy said, her eyes not leaving his battered face.
"Coffee and muffins," Cordy piped up, passing a book to Fred. "We were out of petty cash this morning, and you bought the coffee and muffins for everyone. Remember?"
The horrified look on Buffy's face said she hadn't remembered.
Connor curled his lip at her. "Told you I didn't steal from you. And if you don't mind, my head is killing me, and I need a shower." He turned and headed for the stairs.
"Right or wrong about the money, B has a point. We need to know what really happened to your face," Faith said, getting up as if to stop him.
"Just leave it alone," Connor said, glancing back at Angel who looked utterly defeated. He knew as well as Connor that wasn't going to happen. They'd push until the truth came out, and the truth would only make them hate him that much more, Connor was sure.
"We can't," Buffy said right on cue.
"Dad took objection to my life style, of how I earn my money and how I speak to him and he beat the shit out of me. Happy now?" Connor growled. Screw it. He didn't owe anyone anything.
Buffy's body got so tight Connor thought she might implode. Dawn seemed too stunned to move and Xander shot a look of loathing at both Angel and Connor. Only Wes, Fred and Gunn seemed unsurprised. They had seen this before, of course. "How about trying the truth?"
"Connor's many things, Buffy, but he's not a liar. He hates lies. Oh, he can lie very well for someone who grew up with only one other person in his whole world and no real reason to learn the talent but he's not lying now," Angel said, holding out his bloody knuckles for inspection. The look in his eyes told Connor Angel knew trouble was heading his way, and he was willing to accept it as his due. "I'm sorry, son."
"So you keep telling me like this is the first time you've ever beaten me. Hell, I'm shocked it took so long. Usually we didn't go a day without you cramming my head into something," Connor snarled, heading up the steps away from the stunned, accusatory looks like he was somehow at fault for getting himself beaten. He did contribute to it, of course, but it was a worse beating than he deserved. No one followed him, and he was relieved.
He could hear the destruction he left behind. Connor tried to ignore them but the words bounced around his head. How could you, Angel? from Buffy and Dawn's simple Angel, why? Why didn't it surprise him to hear Xander saying, Told you, you can't trust a vampire or Fred's Connor brings this on himself all the time. He provokes it whenever he can. The most disturbing was Faith's heartbroken Angel, I thought you were better than this.
Connor slammed his door shut to block out all the voices, to throw up a barrier between him and his pity for his father. Angel didn't need to deal with what he was facing now, even if he had lost his temper. It wasn't like Connor wouldn't heal and maybe he did have it coming. He started washing the blood off his face just to try and assess the damage before he got in to the shower to get the rest of the filth off of him. His one eye had swelled so much the blue eye behind the lids was barely visible.
Someone knocked on the door and came in. Connor didn't even look over to see who it was. He knew. "Go away, Angel."
"Connor, please let me talk to you," Angel came over to him and touched Connor's face. "I'm so sorry."
"Not tonight, Angel. You couldn't believe me about the money and then you do this." Connor gestured at his face. "I don't want to talk to you tonight. Tomorrow maybe. For now, just go." Why couldn't the man just leave him alone?
"All right." Angel left without further protest.
Connor only took two steps towards the bathroom when the door opened again. "Angel, I was serious. I don't want to talk to you tonight."
"Given the look on Angel's face, I think he gets that."
Connor glanced back at Dawn, surprised. His nose was too swollen to pick up her scent. He hadn't expected her and couldn't figure out why she was here. "I'm not really in the mood to talk to anyone, Dawn."
"No, I'm sure you're not. I just wanted to give you these." She held up a bag of beef jerky, a protein drink and an ice pack. "I'm betting you didn't eat anything for dinner, and your poor face could use a little ice. Need help cleaning up?"
He wilted. This made no sense. Why was she so nice to him? "You don't need to touch my blood. Willow says I'm clean, but just in case..."
Dawn shook her head, giving him the goodies. She folded up a face towel and wet the cloth. "Sit on the bed."
"You don't have to do this." He sat on the edge of the bed gingerly. "I need to shower anyhow."
"This will only take a minute." Dawn gently sponged his face. He trembled at her touch. "He made a mess out of you."
"I heal fast." He tried to sound dismissive. He didn't want her to worry.
"I can't believe Angel did this." Dawn dabbled the blood off his lip. "He's not like this."
"I bring the worst out in people. It's a natural talent." He grinned wryly under his hands.
"Don't make a joke out of this, Connor. What would you tell those kids on the street, the ones you look after, if someone did something like this to them?" Her hand moved the towel over his gore splattered neck.
Connor averted his gaze, and lied to make her hate him like he deserved. "I threw the first punch, Dawn."
"Fool." Getting up, Dawn tossed the bloody towel into the sink. "Nothing looks like you need me to get Willow to patch you up." Her eyes flicked to the bed. "That mattress's not even denting in. It's that hard? I know this room hasn't been used in years."
"Like sleeping on cement," Connor confirmed. "I think the mildewy couch in my squat was more comfortable." He took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Why are you doing this Dawn? You don't have to.
"I know," she said, her eyes warming him. "You could use a friend. I know what it's like, Connor. I was woven into everyone's memories. I was created out of energy and a little blast of Summers' DNA. I'm a little odd, I guess, and I know how it feels to be an outsider. Not as much as you but enough. And I know my sister isn't making it easy on you. I'm not excusing her for blaming you for stealing but she's not only dealing with the demoness and murderous Slayers but also trying to wrap her head around your very existence."
"And I'm very difficult in my own right." He sighed, his jaw aching from the effort of holding a conversation. "I understand what you're saying. I'm trying to be as good as I can be but..."
"You're dealing with all those things, too, plus an addiction." Dawn smiled gently. "So that's why I figured you needed to know there was someone in your corner."
He smiled, not daring to really believe it. "I appreciate it."
"One last thing then I'll go." Dawn pulled two candy bars out of her pocket. "Reese's Cups and Peppermint Patties, thought you might like real candy after that high protein stuff."
"Thank you, yes." Connor took the treasures and put them on the dresser, and then turned toward the bathroom. "Thanks for everything."
"You're welcome. Try to have a good night, Connor." She let herself out.
Connor showered before he gratefully slipped between the scratchy sheets of his borrowed bed. Ratter got on the bed with him. He stroked his cat absently. At least her love was unconditional. His jaw hurt too much to make much headway on the jerky so he drank the protein drink, and then treated himself to the sugar and crashed in spite of it into a deep, dreamless sleep.
