Title: Uncertain Paths by Donna
Disclaimer: I own nothing!
Rating PG-15
AN: thoughts are written in italics
The first thing Connor was aware of when he woke was a blinding pain in his head, followed closely by a severe soreness in his back and ribs and a hot, stinging sensation from the claw scratches. A low moan escaped his dry throat as he opened his eyes, and quickly re-shut them, then he tried to push himself up but was gently held down.
"Careful Connor, you don't want to try that just yet." A soothing voice told him. Connor recognized it, but couldn't focus on anything beyond the clamouring in his head. "Here, drink this, it'll make you feel better."
Water, Connor thought desperately, but was disappointed when a bitter, thick, lumpy liquid was poured instead. He did his best to turn his head away and spit out the noxious stuff but was once again prevented by the owner of the voice. Connor reluctantly swallowed but refused to open his mouth again when another glass was pressed to his lips.
"Connor open up, c'mon, I promise its just water," this time the voice sounded vaguely amused. Connor reluctantly opened his mouth and was rewarded with the cool liquid pouring into his dry mouth and soothing his throat. All to soon the glass was taken away. He whimpered in protest and tried to rise up to reach it again. "I'll give you more in a little while Connor, too much will make you sick. Just lay back, your head should feel better in a few minutes." As promised within a few minutes the marching band in Connor's head had dwindled to one lone drummer and his eyes had opened. The first things he saw were the warm, concerned eyes of his father.
Connor tried to ask what happened but the only sound that came out was a weak croak. Angel immediately held the glass to his lips again, but restrained Connor from taking large gulps. "Easy, you'll make yourself sick, how are you feeling?" he asked, once again removing the glass.
"Fine, what happened?" Connor's short reply caused Angel's forehead to crease a little as he answered.
"Do you remember the fight in the alley with the three big, grey demons all sporting long, dripping claws?"
"Yeah."
"You got gouged, the blue stuff is a venom they secrete, and it's nasty stuff." Angel's face tightened suddenly, "What the hell were you thinking! Taking on three of them alone in an enclosed space like that! Do you have any idea how lucky you are, you could've been killed!" Connor glared in response to the rebuke and turned away from Angel. Angel rose from the chair he had been standing in and began to pace the room rapidly to rid himself of his frustration. Nice going, he thought to himself, yell at the kid as soon as he wakes up. Angel turned back towards the bed, studying the form of his son, as he lay curled on his side. He's too thin, was Angel's first thought. The boy looked unbelievably small, curled up as he was. Angel sighed and walked over to him, kneeling down and looking at him. Connor tried to roll over again, but Angel placed a hand on his arm to block the movement. Instead Connor looked down, refusing to meet his eyes.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to yell," Connor looked slightly smug, "I'll wait to finish when you feel better." Connor scowled at this.
"It's none of your business anyways, Angelus! I don't need your help!" The teen yelled, his temper flaring.
"For someone who says he can take such good care of himself you seem to be doing a lousy job of it!" Angel shot back.
"I've been doing fine, this is the first time I've gotten hurt, I can take care of myself," Connor told him indignantly.
Angel snorted, "and you're doing such a good job. You're way too thin, and what you do eat you steal. You live in an un-heated dump. Then you decide to go out into a world you barely understand and slay demons, alone, and to top it all off you think you're bloody invincible so you take on demons which no sane person would take on alone."
"Whatever, Maybe you forgot, Daddy, but I'm not normal, and I could've taken those pathetic slimy things out alone!" Connor spat the words out and glared at Angel. Angel began to pace again before whirling back to face Connor.
"Cordelia had a vision of the fight, that's how we found you, you died in it Connor. One of those so-called pathetic slimy things would've played with you for about another five minutes before ripping off your damn head!" Angel finished with a bellow, staring hard at his stubborn offspring.
Connor looked momentarily shocked before wiping his face of any expression and turning away again. Angel glared at his back for a minute before sighing and turning away himself, not knowing what to say. He was startled when Connor spoke again.
"I want to go." Angel turned around, surprised.
"Connor you can't even get up, let alone leave, you're staying here."
"No," Connor's voice held just a touch of panic.
"You don't have a choice." Angel told him flatly.
Connor erupted, "you can't force me, you have no right."
Angel cut him off sharply, "I'm your father, I have every right and whether you like it or not I'm not letting you leave, you can't even take more than a few steps without falling flat on your face!"
"I can to!" Connor yelled and started to stumble out of bed. He became slightly panicky as he realised how difficult it was to even sit up. Angel stepped forward quickly to stop him but pulled back when Connor started yelling, "Don't touch me! I can get up on my own, and I can take care of my self to!"
Angel looked ready to protest but instead raised an eyebrow and said evenly, "Fine, if you think you can do it your self I'll make you a deal, you make it to the front door without help and without collapsing and I'll drive you to your place, you collapse and you stay here as long as I tell you too."
"Done," Connor looked very satisfied, his expression soon changed as he took his first step. His head was throbbing and felt about 5 times its normal size. He felt every bruise along his ribcage and the skin tugging at the healing claw marks and various scratches on his body. He managed to stumble to the doorway by using a wall, looking back, Connor threw a triumphant glare at Angel's impassive face. He started to slowly make his way down the long hall. He managed to take three more painful steps before an especially sharp stab of pain in his head sent him sprawling to his knees, or would have if Angel hadn't caught him. The teen moaned in pain, and before Angel could start carrying him back to his room he emptied the meagre contents of his stomach onto the carpet. The pain in Connor's head doubled and he felt a wave of humiliation creep over him when Angel picked him up and carried him like a small child.
Connor refused to look at Angel as he was placed on the bed, preferring to stare at his shoes. He was surprised when Angel made no move to gloat, or yell at him again. Angel went into the bathroom and quickly retrieved a glass of water, which Connor took and gulped down, still refusing to look at Angel.
"Are you going to yell again," Connor asked, sounding tired.
"No Connor, I'm not going to yell, I'll be right back. Angel went to his room swiftly, and collected a pair of pyjamas that had shrunk in the wash. When he arrived back at the room he found Connor lying limply right where he had left him. The momentary rush of adrenaline Connor felt had faded, leaving him drained of energy. After fetching damp, warm cloth from the bathroom he went over to Connor, who was staring blankly at a wall. Angel paused for a moment before walking over and sitting on the side of the bed. He gently turned Connor onto his back so he was facing him. "How are you feeling?"
"Fine."
Angel nodded, "you want to sit up, your pyjamas are soaked with sweat, you need to change. Connor nodded and sat up with no comment. Angel handed him the cloth and at his questioning gaze told him it was for his face. After Connor had washed Angel reached for his top, intending to pull it of.
Connor's hands flew to his arms, "I can do it," he said with a flaming face.
Angel was about to object when he realized Connor was embarrassed and decided to try for a slightly more diplomatic response, "I know, but I want to help, please."
"Whatever."
Angel swiftly helped Connor into the new clothes, the teen still blushing at needing so much assistance, and couldn't stop the smile when he saw how large the pyjamas really were on his son.
"What!" Connor snapped irritably when he noticed Angel's smile.
Quickly wiping the expression from his face and helping Connor back into bed Angel replied with a casual, "Nothing."
Connor tried to glare suspiciously but was interrupted by a large yawn. He scowled at the soft smile, which had once again appeared on Angel's face.
"What!"
Angel sighed, "nothing, you need to get some sleep," Angel reached down and tightened the covers around Connor a little more, he then reached up and tried to brush away a small lock of hair from his forehead. Angel was surprised at how much it actually hurt when Connor jerked away, after everything that happened how could such a small rejection hurt so much, he wondered. With a tight smile and a warning not to try to get up on his own, he left the room. Connor lay in bed for a few more moments, wondering why the small look of pain on Angel's face hadn't left any satisfaction, before he fell asleep.
TBC
Sorry this is so short, but now it's the weekend so I should get a lot done!
The first thing Connor was aware of when he woke was a blinding pain in his head, followed closely by a severe soreness in his back and ribs and a hot, stinging sensation from the claw scratches. A low moan escaped his dry throat as he opened his eyes, and quickly re-shut them, then he tried to push himself up but was gently held down.
"Careful Connor, you don't want to try that just yet." A soothing voice told him. Connor recognized it, but couldn't focus on anything beyond the clamouring in his head. "Here, drink this, it'll make you feel better."
Water, Connor thought desperately, but was disappointed when a bitter, thick, lumpy liquid was poured instead. He did his best to turn his head away and spit out the noxious stuff but was once again prevented by the owner of the voice. Connor reluctantly swallowed but refused to open his mouth again when another glass was pressed to his lips.
"Connor open up, c'mon, I promise its just water," this time the voice sounded vaguely amused. Connor reluctantly opened his mouth and was rewarded with the cool liquid pouring into his dry mouth and soothing his throat. All to soon the glass was taken away. He whimpered in protest and tried to rise up to reach it again. "I'll give you more in a little while Connor, too much will make you sick. Just lay back, your head should feel better in a few minutes." As promised within a few minutes the marching band in Connor's head had dwindled to one lone drummer and his eyes had opened. The first things he saw were the warm, concerned eyes of his father.
Connor tried to ask what happened but the only sound that came out was a weak croak. Angel immediately held the glass to his lips again, but restrained Connor from taking large gulps. "Easy, you'll make yourself sick, how are you feeling?" he asked, once again removing the glass.
"Fine, what happened?" Connor's short reply caused Angel's forehead to crease a little as he answered.
"Do you remember the fight in the alley with the three big, grey demons all sporting long, dripping claws?"
"Yeah."
"You got gouged, the blue stuff is a venom they secrete, and it's nasty stuff." Angel's face tightened suddenly, "What the hell were you thinking! Taking on three of them alone in an enclosed space like that! Do you have any idea how lucky you are, you could've been killed!" Connor glared in response to the rebuke and turned away from Angel. Angel rose from the chair he had been standing in and began to pace the room rapidly to rid himself of his frustration. Nice going, he thought to himself, yell at the kid as soon as he wakes up. Angel turned back towards the bed, studying the form of his son, as he lay curled on his side. He's too thin, was Angel's first thought. The boy looked unbelievably small, curled up as he was. Angel sighed and walked over to him, kneeling down and looking at him. Connor tried to roll over again, but Angel placed a hand on his arm to block the movement. Instead Connor looked down, refusing to meet his eyes.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to yell," Connor looked slightly smug, "I'll wait to finish when you feel better." Connor scowled at this.
"It's none of your business anyways, Angelus! I don't need your help!" The teen yelled, his temper flaring.
"For someone who says he can take such good care of himself you seem to be doing a lousy job of it!" Angel shot back.
"I've been doing fine, this is the first time I've gotten hurt, I can take care of myself," Connor told him indignantly.
Angel snorted, "and you're doing such a good job. You're way too thin, and what you do eat you steal. You live in an un-heated dump. Then you decide to go out into a world you barely understand and slay demons, alone, and to top it all off you think you're bloody invincible so you take on demons which no sane person would take on alone."
"Whatever, Maybe you forgot, Daddy, but I'm not normal, and I could've taken those pathetic slimy things out alone!" Connor spat the words out and glared at Angel. Angel began to pace again before whirling back to face Connor.
"Cordelia had a vision of the fight, that's how we found you, you died in it Connor. One of those so-called pathetic slimy things would've played with you for about another five minutes before ripping off your damn head!" Angel finished with a bellow, staring hard at his stubborn offspring.
Connor looked momentarily shocked before wiping his face of any expression and turning away again. Angel glared at his back for a minute before sighing and turning away himself, not knowing what to say. He was startled when Connor spoke again.
"I want to go." Angel turned around, surprised.
"Connor you can't even get up, let alone leave, you're staying here."
"No," Connor's voice held just a touch of panic.
"You don't have a choice." Angel told him flatly.
Connor erupted, "you can't force me, you have no right."
Angel cut him off sharply, "I'm your father, I have every right and whether you like it or not I'm not letting you leave, you can't even take more than a few steps without falling flat on your face!"
"I can to!" Connor yelled and started to stumble out of bed. He became slightly panicky as he realised how difficult it was to even sit up. Angel stepped forward quickly to stop him but pulled back when Connor started yelling, "Don't touch me! I can get up on my own, and I can take care of my self to!"
Angel looked ready to protest but instead raised an eyebrow and said evenly, "Fine, if you think you can do it your self I'll make you a deal, you make it to the front door without help and without collapsing and I'll drive you to your place, you collapse and you stay here as long as I tell you too."
"Done," Connor looked very satisfied, his expression soon changed as he took his first step. His head was throbbing and felt about 5 times its normal size. He felt every bruise along his ribcage and the skin tugging at the healing claw marks and various scratches on his body. He managed to stumble to the doorway by using a wall, looking back, Connor threw a triumphant glare at Angel's impassive face. He started to slowly make his way down the long hall. He managed to take three more painful steps before an especially sharp stab of pain in his head sent him sprawling to his knees, or would have if Angel hadn't caught him. The teen moaned in pain, and before Angel could start carrying him back to his room he emptied the meagre contents of his stomach onto the carpet. The pain in Connor's head doubled and he felt a wave of humiliation creep over him when Angel picked him up and carried him like a small child.
Connor refused to look at Angel as he was placed on the bed, preferring to stare at his shoes. He was surprised when Angel made no move to gloat, or yell at him again. Angel went into the bathroom and quickly retrieved a glass of water, which Connor took and gulped down, still refusing to look at Angel.
"Are you going to yell again," Connor asked, sounding tired.
"No Connor, I'm not going to yell, I'll be right back. Angel went to his room swiftly, and collected a pair of pyjamas that had shrunk in the wash. When he arrived back at the room he found Connor lying limply right where he had left him. The momentary rush of adrenaline Connor felt had faded, leaving him drained of energy. After fetching damp, warm cloth from the bathroom he went over to Connor, who was staring blankly at a wall. Angel paused for a moment before walking over and sitting on the side of the bed. He gently turned Connor onto his back so he was facing him. "How are you feeling?"
"Fine."
Angel nodded, "you want to sit up, your pyjamas are soaked with sweat, you need to change. Connor nodded and sat up with no comment. Angel handed him the cloth and at his questioning gaze told him it was for his face. After Connor had washed Angel reached for his top, intending to pull it of.
Connor's hands flew to his arms, "I can do it," he said with a flaming face.
Angel was about to object when he realized Connor was embarrassed and decided to try for a slightly more diplomatic response, "I know, but I want to help, please."
"Whatever."
Angel swiftly helped Connor into the new clothes, the teen still blushing at needing so much assistance, and couldn't stop the smile when he saw how large the pyjamas really were on his son.
"What!" Connor snapped irritably when he noticed Angel's smile.
Quickly wiping the expression from his face and helping Connor back into bed Angel replied with a casual, "Nothing."
Connor tried to glare suspiciously but was interrupted by a large yawn. He scowled at the soft smile, which had once again appeared on Angel's face.
"What!"
Angel sighed, "nothing, you need to get some sleep," Angel reached down and tightened the covers around Connor a little more, he then reached up and tried to brush away a small lock of hair from his forehead. Angel was surprised at how much it actually hurt when Connor jerked away, after everything that happened how could such a small rejection hurt so much, he wondered. With a tight smile and a warning not to try to get up on his own, he left the room. Connor lay in bed for a few more moments, wondering why the small look of pain on Angel's face hadn't left any satisfaction, before he fell asleep.
TBC
Sorry this is so short, but now it's the weekend so I should get a lot done!