Disclaimer: Character belong to Joss Whedon and co.
Notes: This is a major experiment and I'm not sure I like the end results. Let me know what you think and how it could have been different/better/worse etc.
~ * ~
I hope he hurts, alone and cold at the bottom of the ocean. I hope it aches and burns as he thinks about what he's done. I hope his mind is filled with the thoughts of the things he's done to me, to everyone. I hope that his heart hurts and that his mind can't rest, whirling thoughts of his past. I hope he goes mad.
He deserves it, he really does. They can pretend that he's some kind of champion, some kind of good being, but he's not. He's a vampire and that's all he'll ever be. A worthless, blood sucking, scum of the earth, vampire. He feeds and he kills, all with the premise that he's doing the world some kind of good.
So, he has his soul. What good is a soul in the long run? A soul can drive you mad, it can break you down. A soul can be corrupted and someone with a soul can do worse things than he ever did. Having a soul means nothing to me, not after seeing the things I've seen. The gypsies need a better curse, I think, they need to get with the times. Having a soul doesn't hurt him anymore, only I can do that now.
They'll never find him. Good God, I hope they never find him. I worked so hard on that plan, so goddamned hard and they better not screw it up now. I want him to stay there forever, lost and alone, starving and going insane with hallucinations and starvation. I want him to know what it's like to never again taste the blood of a human. He deserves it.
They look at me like I'm going to break any second, like they think I'm so poor, lost little boy whose father has abandoned him. I want to tell them some nights, I just want to scream, 'I did it! I did it! I got rid of him, I sent him to hell, I sent him to his death. I hate him and he deserved it!'. I want to take credit for what I've done, but the way they look at me . . . it would kill them to know.
Gunn thinks he's some kind of father figure now, it's laughable really. I've been taking care of myself in a hell dimension since I was a child, I've been on my own since I was tiny. He was never there for me, never. What kind of father is never there for his own child? Holtz was my father . . . and now he's dead. Angel, he was nothing and now Gunn thinks he has to take Angel's place. There is no place in my life to take over.
Fred looks at me with those big eyes, those pleading eyes and for a moment I think that I feel sorry for what I've done. She trusts me so deeply, trusts me with everything she has and it's a mistake for her to think that way. I hate myself for that because she's never done anything to me. I like Fred, love her even, she's there to protect me and care for me. She watches over me when no one else ever has . . . not even Holtz. He loved me, sure, but he aged so quickly while we were over there.
I hate that she makes me think that way. I hate that I actually care for her enough to doubt my own motives. She's just a girl, a woman maybe . . . a woman who cares about me, who wants me to be safe. She actually worries when I leave at night, worries that someone will hurt me or kill me or something worse even. I love that she worries, it makes me feel . . . like I have a home.
But I hate that her love makes me think I'm wrong. I'm not wrong, I can't be wrong. He killed the only man I've ever thought of as my father. Angel was just in the right place at the right time, he just got someone pregnant. He was never my father. But something in her eyes makes me wonder if maybe, just a little, maybe he really did love me. Maybe he really did think of me as his son.
No! I'm not his son, I'm not Connor, I'm someone else altogether. I'm a freak, I'm different . . . too different to live in this world. I hate it here, I hate that she cares so goddamn much and I hate that I care what she thinks of me. I'm not supposed to care, I shouldn't care. I want him to suffer and I want her to leave me the hell alone.
She just looks right into me, like Cordelia was able to do. She can see things and sometimes I think she sees what I did to Angel. I don't want her to see, it has to be my secret. It has to stay with me forever, she can never know because it she ever finds out . . . it might hurt her. She'll cry for sure, she'll even hurt me maybe. All I know is that she'll never trust me again and it'll be my fault.
I don't want to lose that trust, it's the only good thing I've felt all my life.
I'm lost, I think. Lost in a wash of confusing feelings and I hate it. I just hate everything. I mean, I knew a teenager was supposed to be hard, but how many teenagers have locked their vampire father in an airtight box and dropped him to the bottom of the ocean? There's just so many conflicts, so many raging fights going on in my head and my heart.
A knock interrupts me and she's standing there with a plate. A glass of milk, a sandwich . . . I already know what it is without asking. Bologna, no tomatoes. She's good like that, amazing even. I don't even hear what she's saying or what I'm saying, I'm not sure how I'm even participating in the conversation, but I am.
She smiles at something I say and makes me say thank you before I can have the sandwich. I love this woman standing before me, she makes me feel like I'm finally somewhere I can call home. And the sandwich . . . as stupid as it seems, it's a good sandwich. She knows me already, knows me so well.
A moment later her voice changes and when I stare into her eyes, I can see the shattered trust. She knows, somehow she founds out everything and she doesn't trust me anymore. Her big eyes are angry and full of something I've never seen before.
Hatred.
She hates me for what I'm done to Angel. She loved him more than she could ever love a child like me and now she hates me. Her eyes are angry and frightening, I've never seen her look at anyone like that before, ever. I didn't know someone so kind could have so much hate inside of her. She hates me and I'll never be able to change that. Her trust is broken and I'll never be able to repair it.
I don't feel the shock at first, as she presses the electric gun against my chest, sending wave after wave of electricity in my body. It hurts so much, of course it does, but not half as much as it hurts to see her eyes looking so angry.
It's the last thing I see before I pass out from the pain. Big, brown, angry eyes staring down at me. Eyes that had once trusted me. I was wrong, she could never love a child like me, she could never trust me. I was horribly wrong to think she could come to think of me as part of her family.
When I wake up, I'm gonna make sure she knows how wrong I was.
End
Notes: This is a major experiment and I'm not sure I like the end results. Let me know what you think and how it could have been different/better/worse etc.
~ * ~
I hope he hurts, alone and cold at the bottom of the ocean. I hope it aches and burns as he thinks about what he's done. I hope his mind is filled with the thoughts of the things he's done to me, to everyone. I hope that his heart hurts and that his mind can't rest, whirling thoughts of his past. I hope he goes mad.
He deserves it, he really does. They can pretend that he's some kind of champion, some kind of good being, but he's not. He's a vampire and that's all he'll ever be. A worthless, blood sucking, scum of the earth, vampire. He feeds and he kills, all with the premise that he's doing the world some kind of good.
So, he has his soul. What good is a soul in the long run? A soul can drive you mad, it can break you down. A soul can be corrupted and someone with a soul can do worse things than he ever did. Having a soul means nothing to me, not after seeing the things I've seen. The gypsies need a better curse, I think, they need to get with the times. Having a soul doesn't hurt him anymore, only I can do that now.
They'll never find him. Good God, I hope they never find him. I worked so hard on that plan, so goddamned hard and they better not screw it up now. I want him to stay there forever, lost and alone, starving and going insane with hallucinations and starvation. I want him to know what it's like to never again taste the blood of a human. He deserves it.
They look at me like I'm going to break any second, like they think I'm so poor, lost little boy whose father has abandoned him. I want to tell them some nights, I just want to scream, 'I did it! I did it! I got rid of him, I sent him to hell, I sent him to his death. I hate him and he deserved it!'. I want to take credit for what I've done, but the way they look at me . . . it would kill them to know.
Gunn thinks he's some kind of father figure now, it's laughable really. I've been taking care of myself in a hell dimension since I was a child, I've been on my own since I was tiny. He was never there for me, never. What kind of father is never there for his own child? Holtz was my father . . . and now he's dead. Angel, he was nothing and now Gunn thinks he has to take Angel's place. There is no place in my life to take over.
Fred looks at me with those big eyes, those pleading eyes and for a moment I think that I feel sorry for what I've done. She trusts me so deeply, trusts me with everything she has and it's a mistake for her to think that way. I hate myself for that because she's never done anything to me. I like Fred, love her even, she's there to protect me and care for me. She watches over me when no one else ever has . . . not even Holtz. He loved me, sure, but he aged so quickly while we were over there.
I hate that she makes me think that way. I hate that I actually care for her enough to doubt my own motives. She's just a girl, a woman maybe . . . a woman who cares about me, who wants me to be safe. She actually worries when I leave at night, worries that someone will hurt me or kill me or something worse even. I love that she worries, it makes me feel . . . like I have a home.
But I hate that her love makes me think I'm wrong. I'm not wrong, I can't be wrong. He killed the only man I've ever thought of as my father. Angel was just in the right place at the right time, he just got someone pregnant. He was never my father. But something in her eyes makes me wonder if maybe, just a little, maybe he really did love me. Maybe he really did think of me as his son.
No! I'm not his son, I'm not Connor, I'm someone else altogether. I'm a freak, I'm different . . . too different to live in this world. I hate it here, I hate that she cares so goddamn much and I hate that I care what she thinks of me. I'm not supposed to care, I shouldn't care. I want him to suffer and I want her to leave me the hell alone.
She just looks right into me, like Cordelia was able to do. She can see things and sometimes I think she sees what I did to Angel. I don't want her to see, it has to be my secret. It has to stay with me forever, she can never know because it she ever finds out . . . it might hurt her. She'll cry for sure, she'll even hurt me maybe. All I know is that she'll never trust me again and it'll be my fault.
I don't want to lose that trust, it's the only good thing I've felt all my life.
I'm lost, I think. Lost in a wash of confusing feelings and I hate it. I just hate everything. I mean, I knew a teenager was supposed to be hard, but how many teenagers have locked their vampire father in an airtight box and dropped him to the bottom of the ocean? There's just so many conflicts, so many raging fights going on in my head and my heart.
A knock interrupts me and she's standing there with a plate. A glass of milk, a sandwich . . . I already know what it is without asking. Bologna, no tomatoes. She's good like that, amazing even. I don't even hear what she's saying or what I'm saying, I'm not sure how I'm even participating in the conversation, but I am.
She smiles at something I say and makes me say thank you before I can have the sandwich. I love this woman standing before me, she makes me feel like I'm finally somewhere I can call home. And the sandwich . . . as stupid as it seems, it's a good sandwich. She knows me already, knows me so well.
A moment later her voice changes and when I stare into her eyes, I can see the shattered trust. She knows, somehow she founds out everything and she doesn't trust me anymore. Her big eyes are angry and full of something I've never seen before.
Hatred.
She hates me for what I'm done to Angel. She loved him more than she could ever love a child like me and now she hates me. Her eyes are angry and frightening, I've never seen her look at anyone like that before, ever. I didn't know someone so kind could have so much hate inside of her. She hates me and I'll never be able to change that. Her trust is broken and I'll never be able to repair it.
I don't feel the shock at first, as she presses the electric gun against my chest, sending wave after wave of electricity in my body. It hurts so much, of course it does, but not half as much as it hurts to see her eyes looking so angry.
It's the last thing I see before I pass out from the pain. Big, brown, angry eyes staring down at me. Eyes that had once trusted me. I was wrong, she could never love a child like me, she could never trust me. I was horribly wrong to think she could come to think of me as part of her family.
When I wake up, I'm gonna make sure she knows how wrong I was.
End
