By Mel (email me at cosmic_quest@yahoo.com)
Chapter Five
It was never meant to be this way. After their late night fight against evil, Angel and Brendan were meant to return home and work on making up the fifteen years of father-son relationship they had missed. Brendan was supposed to grow up to be a more balanced young man and Angel was to find a way to live in a world without Cordelia.
Only Angel had learned through bitter experience that life never moved in the way he wished it would.
The Scooby Gang, all grown up with their junior members present, had gone to the abandoned church where the showdown with scazem demon and his disciples- who were, of course, intent on opening the Hellmouth- was due to take place. Angel was surprised how well trained the young generation of Scoobies were and how the adults were now as organized as any military unit.
From the minute they arrived at the church, each set about their own task; Giles, Anya and Jesse worked on their scroll and spell, Xander and Jodie used the heavy-duty weaponry whilst the feistier fighters of the elder and younger Slayers, Spike, Brendan and Angel relied on stakes and their physical strength.
Still, despite all the Scoobies being present and with the added support of Angel, it became painfully obvious they were seriously outnumbered. It wasn't long before Buffy and Spike, now physically adults in their forties, were the first to tire, bleeding from wounds and struggling to keep pace. As he fought, Angel caught sight of Jodie falling and Xander understandably abandoning his post to protect his daughter and carry her to a safer position.
It was in the thick of the bloody battle when Angel noticed one of the demon's disciples, standing in the safety of the upper ledges, aim a crossbow at their strongest fighter Ashleigh. Just as he moved to push the girl out of the way, Brendan also took heed of the demon's objective.
Closer to Ashleigh, the boy sprinted towards his best friend with the agility of a feline and Angel could only watch, his usually dextrous limbs frozen in sheer shock, as his son was unable to shift from the arrow's speeding target. Brendan fell back as the arrow tore it's way into his unprotected chest and then there was a lull, the boy silent and still with the weapon sickeningly protruding from his body.
Rushing to Brendan's side, uncaring for the fight or without regard to himself, Angel grabbed a a stake from his belt. He projected the stake with strength fuelled by his grief and rage and with perfect accuracy, the demon who had dared to harm his son collapsed forward and dropped to the floor.
The strong coppery scent of blood pervaded Angel's sense of smell before he reached his fallen son and as he knelt beside the boy, pulling his smaller form into his arms. Usually, even the hint of blood would have set Angel's saliva glands watering in hunger but this time he felt nothing, only the pain of seeing his son squirming in agony in his arms.
Nearby, Ashleigh's eyes watered at her friend's plight though her slayer instincts forced her to continue the fight leaving Angel to tend to Brendan alone.
"You're going to be fine," Angel said softly.
Brendan, despite his injuries, managed to muster a sarcastic snort. "Don't...think so..."
Angel wanted to just pick the boy up and race him to a hospital yet
a deeper sense within him could see his son's time was ticking, drawing to
a close. He had killed so many children as in his time of Angelus, walking
away from their broken bodies without a second thought. Even ensouled, while
the death of a child did sadden him, he was not unduly affected as most humans
were.
Until today.
Ironically, it took the pain of his own son's injuries to fully comprehend
why people so mourned the death of a life cut short far too son. Brendan
didn't deserve this, he was just a little boy. He should be living, free...not
slipping away from the glorious adventure of life.
It couldn't happen like this. Not to his boy dammit! Not to the one who
was his last link to Cordy.
Angel was overwhelmed with denial, he wasn't just going to watch Brendan
die. He wouldn't. "Don't talk like that, we'll get you to a hospital and-"
The strains and struggles of his friends fighting faded into the background,
his son's wheezing amplified in his ears. He adjusted Brendan into a more
comfortable position, holding the boy tenderly like one would hold a new-born
infant. The boy moaned softly but kept his hold on consciousness with the
tenacity of his mother.
Feelings of helplessness and inadequacy swelled through Angel, he hadn't
felt so useless since Cordy lay in a vision induced coma. For all his strength
and prowess, he could nothing now but watch the boy die before his eyes.
Angel felt a soft touch on his cheek and looked down to meet Brendan's
gaze- dark eyes fusing with identical dark eyes. "D...don't be sad," the boy
choked out, his stare softening for the first time.
Damn, for all he had done to his son, the boy was protecting him from
the pain.
"I've...missed Mom," Brendan murmured, a tear escaping from his eye.
The vampire understood, Brendan was tired. He was letting his father
know he was going to be okay as he let go.
"You'll see her soon," Angel reassured softly, no matter how difficult
it was to allow his son to let go.
Brendan scrutinized him for a moment that seemed to span an eternity
then he spoke in a wispy voice so stark in comparison to his typical strong
timbre. "Did...did you l-love...my mom?" The boy was struggling to breathe,
fighting for each precious drop of oxygen to feed his failing lungs. Blood
welled from his mouth, trickling down his chin.
Angel gently cleaned the blood away with his sleeve. "I do..." He spoke
in present tense, thinking of the girl he saw just a few short days ago and
all that he truly felt for her, blocking out her tragic fate and his own part
in it. "I love her more than anything."
His own tears dripped from his cheeks onto Brendan's bleached features.
The teenager slowly reach to touch the moisture then glanced back to his
father, his eyes now glazing over, losing the life that had once bloomed
so vibrantly before.
In a soft whisper, almost inaudible to even Angel's heightened senses,
he whispered. "T-then...we....we'll be...w-waiting f-f-for you...on the other
s-side..." His eyes fluttered shut and his hand dropped weightlessly to his
side.
Angel felt the boy's form suddenly going completely limp and boneless
in his arms. He shook him, more fervently. He wasn't ready to say goodbye
yet, he didn't want to be alone. He *needed* Brendan back.
"Bren...come on, wake up!" His voice was broke at the last word, tears
now freely rolling down his face. "Don't go..." Angel brushed a strand of
hair from his son's face. "Brendan..." he murmured, forlornly.
The father cradled his dead son's body close to him. The boy whose infancy
and childhood he had lost out on because of his obsession with Darla. Instead,
it was Wesley who had helped tuck *his* child in at night, who had
comforted Brendan and protected him. Cordelia had been right to cut him out
of Brendan's life, he didn't deserve the boy's love.
"Poor little boy," sneered a mocking voice.
Angel forced himself to turn from his son to find himself face-to-face
with a grinning vampire who stared in disgust at the other's grief. If Angel
had the energy, he was would have easily overpowered and staked this pathetic
minion. But Brendan's weariness was contagious and all he wanted was to remain
by his boy's side.
"And poor little traitor shedding tears for a human." The grimly, filthy
creature smirked, producing a long pointed plank of wood. "Well, let's reunite
you."
"Angel, no!"
Buffy's screams were cut short as Angel welcomed the sharp, intense pain
of the make-shift stake piercing his still heart. The pain lasted a long
moment then he embraced the guiding light as his ashes fell to the floor...
*****************************
He gasped for unnecessary air, sitting up in his bed. The glare of the
sun despite the closed drapes blinded him, Angel putting his arm up to shield
his eyes. Slowly adjusting to the light, he glanced around in a familiar bewilderment.
What had happened? He was meant to be dead.
Reaching to his bedside cabinet, he pulled over the newspaper he had
bought as a tool to track news of Darla's victims. The date printed at the
top of the Los Angeles
Times stated 'March 15th
2001'. He was home, in his own time the morning after when
Darla had last threw him from that warehouse roof.
Had it all been a dream? Was Brendan all but a figment of his imagination,
a representation of the child he could only hope for?
He felt a dull ache in his chest as he shifted in the bed. Frowning,
Angel peeled back his shirt taking a sharp intake of breath at what he saw.
Above where his unbeating heart lay the skin was marred by an inflamed tender
scar, which in a normal human would be the remains of injury inflicting the
heart. The wound was painful, fresh and deep, yet he was still here and not
a pile of dust.
A scent filled his sensitive nose, and he raised his sleeve up to his
face. Though his sleeve was clean, there was a strong scent of blood...Brendan's
blood, a smell reminiscent of both Cordelia's and, well, his own.
"Brendan...?" he whispered.
Suddenly, the weight of his son's limp body was once again vivid in his
memory where it was forever embedded in his mind...But only the boy wasn't
born yet, he wouldn't even be conceived for a good few months. The slate,
while scratched, was still clean. Cordelia, his friends, they were all alive
and well.
This meant he had a second chance to rectify his mistakes! He might
not have deserved it, God only knew how many second and third and fourth
chances Angel had frittered away but this time he wouldn't allow fate to
slip through his fingers.
Angel would do whatever he had to in order save his Seer and son before
it was too late.
He would do whatever it took- apologize repeatedly, go on his hands and
knees to beg, bribe, anything- but he make Cordelia trust him again and let
him back into her life. And this time, he would keep her safe, he would protect
her with the ferocity she deserved. No-one, be it Darla or Wolfram and Hart,
would separate him from her side.
Then, when he had time, Angel would visit Sunnydale where his ex-girlfriend
and grandchilde lived...After all, Buffy and Spike had not even a year before
they would have their own little arrival on their hands.
End of Chapter Five
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Epilogue
Angel glanced out the window and shook his head in resigned amusement
at the little boy, who was gleefully swinging from a tree under the watchful
gaze of the young man who was sharpening his tools in the light of the moon.
He could never tire of seeing his boys together- Connor and Brendan, the
sons he was never meant to have.
Brendan was bouncing around, chattering non-stop to his ever patient
elder brother. It still amazed him at the never-ending bound of energy possessed
by a child so young. From the time he woke up at the crack of dawn until
the time he grudgingly trudged to bed at night, he was a boisterous handful-
one that Angel had to watch constantly least he fall foul to another of his
mischievous jokes. And Connor, he had come so far in the short time Angel
had reclaimed him though he was no less of a handful than his young brother.
But both were handfuls he would never relinquish no matter what...
For a former vampire over two centuries old who had no clue about with
raising a family, Angel found himself remarkably comfortable with the position
of father. His little taste six years ago had taught him to be the best parent
a child could have; that bitter and dark Brendan would never be allowed to
develop. His family would only know the light.
He glanced to the calendar hanging nearby. The year was now 2009 and
today was that fated day when his son, that other Brendan, had watched his
mother and uncles slain as they lay down their lives for him. Angel shivered,
he couldn't imagine his very young, very innocent six-year-old child witnessing
what his other could-have-been son had seen.
Once realizing what had happened, the gift of sight he had received from
whoever had sought to give him another chance, Angel had been filled with
a new-found sense of determination. It took him a month to successfully convince
Cordelia and the others he had changed before they allowed him back into
their lives.
Of course, nothing was ever simple for them. Darla could never just die
and leave them be, she would never allow things to be so easy for him. But
the present she left was not what he had expected or been prepared for, namely
their son Connor, the only child to be conceived of two vampires and every
bit as precious as Angel's human family. And for a brief moment, Angel
understood why his alternate self was fooled by his sire's claims of redemption
when he witnessed Darla sacrifice herself to give their son life.
Only Connor's childhood was doomed to be almost as dark as his alternate
brother's had been. Kidnapped at the age of two months to be returned just
a few short months before they discovered Cordelia was pregnant with Bren
though accelerated to the age of sixteen, it had been a tough road for father
and son to build a relationship. Connor had been so bitter, possessing the
same bottled dangerous rage that seemed so familiar to Angel whenever he
reminisced over the possible future Brendan. And in many ways, bonding with
Connor was Angel's living reminder of how easily his happiness could be snatched
away if he wasn't careful.
Now, watching his boys laughing and playing, it was reminder Angel would
never let go. For the joy his children had brought into his life was worth
any sacrifice he had to make in the past. Just as the unrelenting,
deep love he shared with Cordelia, Brendan's adoring mother, was a bond he
would rather die for than lose to his dark past.
When he was with Buffy, he thought that was happiness. Now he saw that
was nothing compared to the pure, burning love he felt for his family. His
life was finally on a track he was proud of, and he could feel the hint of
humanity forming beneath the surface of his body. His Shanshu was coming
and he was more than ready for it. It was just a goal before, now it was
the final piece to perfection, to the completion of having a normal life.
A sharp shriek shattered Angel's thoughts and he quickly dashed outside
to find the weeping boy crouched on the ground, examining a grazed knee with
Connor was trying to tend to the reluctant child.
"What is it with kids and trees?" Connor asked with a frown. The simplicity
of climbing trees in childhood was never a luxury he could have afforded
growing up in a hell dimension.
Through his soft cries, Brendan managed to tearfully retort, "You had
demons to slay and I got trees!"
"Trees, demon hunting- where did my kids get this daredevil streak from?"
Angel murmured as he knelt beside the smaller boy.
He knew full well the answer his question, however. With a vampire father
fighting the good fight coupled with a vivacious and headstrong mother (or
big sister figure in Connor's case) equally involved in the fight, it was
little wonder their children were following fast in their footsteps.
"It...it hurts, Daddy," little Brendan whispered. He tried to be brave
but his lip was quivering and his expressive dark eyes were flooded with
tears.
Angel bit back his reproaching tirade and put his arms around the tiny
frame pulling his son into his arms effortlessly. "Come on, scamp, we'll
put a plaster on that and make it all better."
"'Kay."
In the kitchen, while Connor distracted his brother by regaling him with
stories of his own -more gruesome- childhood injuries, Angel cleaned the
graze with Savlon, inwardly proud at the show of bravery from the little
boy who only whimpered slightly when the cotton ball drenched in disinfectant
touched his wounded skin. He awarded his son with a 'Sesame
Street' plaster and a chocolate chip cookie.
Grinning contentedly, Brendan threw his arms around Angel. "You made
it better."
Angel embraced his child closer, smoothing his silky dark hair and inhaling
the little-boy scent of cookies and milk. "You know your Daddy takes care
of his boy, Bren," he murmured back.
"And what are my men doing?"
Father and sons looked up to see Cordelia enter the kitchen, carrying
their youngest Kaitlin in her arms.
"Look at my plaster, Mommy." Brendan held his knee up for his mother's
inspection.
"You should be happy, when I was a kid we had to dress our cuts with leaves
and grass," Connor replied, tousling his brother's hair.
Brendan frowned, smoothing his hair back in place in a gesture so obviously
Angel's, then rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, and you had to walk ten miles,
in barefeet *and* in the snow, to school. Sometimes you sound just
like Dad, like two old grandpas going on about the olden days."
"Hey!" retorted Angel and Connor, in mock insult.
Cordelia smiled in amusement. Never let it be said the boy lacked his
mother's sharp wit. "Now what happened to my baby's knee?"
"I'm not a baby, Mommy. I cut myself but I never cried."
"That's because you're my brave boy," Cordelia smiled, pecking him softly
on the cheek.
"What about me?" Angel protested in feigned indignation.
Cordy snorted. "He who was scared of taking Kait and Jonathan to see the
'Teletubbies' movie."
"Hey, those things rot the mind."
His wife smiled in amusement. She moved closer, whispering playfully
in his ear, "Wimp." Then she kissed him before Kaitlin's tiny hands push
him back.
"Kissies too," demanded the toddler.
Angel swiftly swooped the giggling child into his arms and peppered her
with loud, exaggerated kisses and tickles, revelling in his daughter's delight.
Like Connor, eighteen-month-old-old Kaitlin had been a complete surprise
to Angel. While he had always expected Cordelia to fall pregnant with their
son, he had never thought of the consequences to their family were he to
remain by her side after the birth.
As it was, their precious daughter Kaitlin was not the only surprise.
Barely a year before Kaitlin was born, Spike and Buffy had welcomed the birth
of their son whom they name Jonathan. And as for the rest of the family,
Wesley- his son's godfather- and his wife Fred, a young woman they had rescued
from an another world, were enjoying the delights of their toddler Cameron.
And Gunn was making the first moves to settling down with Faith, the rehabilitated
Slayer who had joined them along the way bringing with her a son, the now
five-year-old Joshua.
Of course, not everything was a fairy tale. Angel and the others were
by no means naive to the fact that it was no coincidence their respective
children were so close in age. Brendan in the alternate world was not joking
when he said he had a book of prophecies dedicated to him; there were days
when it seemed there was a whole library of prophecies relating to the children
who faced the same apocalyptic battles as their parents fought before them.
For now, all their parents could do was protect and educate them.
Back in Sunnydale, Spike had become human four months ago but the transition
to humanity had been in no way smooth for neither him nor his family. Still,
despite his grandchilde recovering his humanity first, Angel was not envious
as he began to realize that they each had their own destiny and there were
some times when the Scooby Gang would walk a different path than his family.
Angel Investigations still fought for the Powers That Be under the guise
of private investigations hunting down evil and protecting the innocent with
Wolfram and Heart still rattling their sabres from time-to-time. During those
turbulent moments, 'Uncle' Lorne- the universal godfather to this next generation
of champions- would take care of the children who were destined to take over
from their parents when the time came to pass the torch.
However, the day was still many years away. And the difficulties they
faced was easier to deal with compared with than the early years. Cordelia,
Wesley and Gunn had matured and their training much advanced and as for him...
Angel was starting to let his dormant humanity drive him more and more.
Only time would tell how their lives would turn out, he had no more hints
or insights. From this day, in that other world, Brendan's life had been
based in Sunnydale without Cordy's visions to guide them on LA victims and
instead they passed to the boy, focusing on the hopeless of Sunnydale. A
completely different set of demons than what they would face now, since they
were still based in LA.
It was strange to think that from this day on, he was setting a completely
different path and ensuring that other timeline would never exist. So focused
on preventing that day from where Cordy and his friends would die so brutally,
Angel had never considered what would happen afterwards. Before he had little
titbits from overheard conversations by Brendan and the others, some clues
of what demons they would face and how to defeat them.
It was different now. Angel didn't know what was going to follow, and
he surprisingly he liked it like that. He made him feel...human.
THE END
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Well, that's it, I hope you enjoyed
it. Remember this story was actually started ages ago, in the middle of the
second season and long before we knew of baby Connor's introduction and the
older Connor's re-appearance so things might seem weird here and there. In
this revised version of the story I've tried to include Connor in at the
end to make things a bit more 'authentic'. I plan to maybe write more in
this universe, perhaps a S/B story telling of Spike gaining his humanity
or Buffy being the one to experience a flash of the future where she sees
her life with Spike and their children. Anyway, please email me with any
comments in this story or any other my others.