Angel dashed out of the limo, hoping he wasn't too late. Since he
didn't hear the sirens of ambulences or see sparks of flame choking the
builing, he assumed he still had a few more minutes. His hopes for
'minutes' were reduced to 'seconds' as he saw Conner tighten the last wire
of the explosives.
All around the store people were begging for their lives, faces red and puffy from crying. He noticed almost immediately that everyone was in pairs: There were two teenage girls by the door, a father and his daughter by the snowboards, a pair of twins huddled against each others' shoulders near the desk, and an obviously newlywed couple backed against a wall. No one in the building was without a loved one. That realization tore Angel apart; it was better to think that Jasmine's hold on Connor drove him to this, than to know that this was Connor lashing out from the misery of his childhood, and the isolation of his heart. "Connor-"
Connor adjusted the exposives around his waist before turning around to face his...to face Angel. "Don't come any closer." He brandished the control in his left hand, staring Angel directly in the eyes. "You never know who goes first. Could be me. Could be them." Connor drew his gaze from the mother and infant to someone behind him. "Could be her."
"Who-" Angel looked around, trying to figure out who Connor meant by the last reference. His question was answered as his son took a step to the side, revealing the two women he had never dared hope to see again.
"Wolfman and Hart decided to give me a little help. Said something about you having a past in Sunnyhell." Connor laughed emotionlessly. "I figured I might as well blow up your past," he glanced at Buffy, "at the same time I do your future," he stated looking at Cordy.
Knowing that emotion would only encourage Connor to press the little red button he held in his hand, Angel forced himself to focus on the hostages. He couldn't...wouldn't be responsible for Buffy's...for Cordelia's, hell, for either of their deaths. "And them, Conner?" Angel glanced around the room at all of the hesitantly hopeful faces looking at him. "What did they do to deserve this?" Angel focused all of his energy on not glancing at the two people he was really referring to. Looking straight at Connor instead, Angel took an intimmidating step forward. A cry from the back of the room reminded Angel that this was a hostage situation. "Please. Just...give me a chance. I know you're upset about-"
"You don't deserve one, " Connor stated tersely, not even allowing Angel to finish the sentence. "Neither do they," he whispered.
"Don't they though?" Angel knew that there must be some part of his son that would regret killing innocents. Or, he thought he knew.
"Didn't *I*? Where was my second chance? At least these people had a choice: they knew love. True love, from what Jasmine gave them. *You* took that away from them, and here they are. Trying to immitate what they had with a goddess with mere humans. It's pathetic. They're all pathetic. And they are going to die knowing it." His last statement carried the crazed tone and passion of a madman. Fire blazed in his eyes.
Angel sighed, wondering if he had been like this when he had gone over the edge and had allowed those lawyers to get murdered. Like father, like son. "You're *not* a demon Connor," he bit out. "You can't kill these people without regretting it later."
Thinking the opposite to be true, Connor shrugged it off. "Whatever." Deciding to end the pointless arguing, he made a show of fingering a separate panel of two red switches in his other hand. Turning his head toward the two blondes, he spoke. "Damn, I forgot which one's which. What do you think: left or right?"
That was it. Angel felt himself slide into game-face as he rushed the young boy, intent on only knocking him out. Mindful of the red wire about Connor's waist, he tossed a right hook at Connor's stomach. Connor ducked under the oncoming fist and brought his legs around in an attempt to trip Angel. Expecting the move, the vampire jumped, lashing out to successfully knock the controls out of Connor's hands. Relieved, Angel took the fight up a notch by executing a kick to his son's chest that sent the boy across the room.
As blood filled his mouth, Connor rasped out, "It's over. You lost," before falling unconcious.
Horrified, Angel snapped around to face the doorway, where a very smug Faith stood, lowering her foot on the forgotten remote.
All around the store people were begging for their lives, faces red and puffy from crying. He noticed almost immediately that everyone was in pairs: There were two teenage girls by the door, a father and his daughter by the snowboards, a pair of twins huddled against each others' shoulders near the desk, and an obviously newlywed couple backed against a wall. No one in the building was without a loved one. That realization tore Angel apart; it was better to think that Jasmine's hold on Connor drove him to this, than to know that this was Connor lashing out from the misery of his childhood, and the isolation of his heart. "Connor-"
Connor adjusted the exposives around his waist before turning around to face his...to face Angel. "Don't come any closer." He brandished the control in his left hand, staring Angel directly in the eyes. "You never know who goes first. Could be me. Could be them." Connor drew his gaze from the mother and infant to someone behind him. "Could be her."
"Who-" Angel looked around, trying to figure out who Connor meant by the last reference. His question was answered as his son took a step to the side, revealing the two women he had never dared hope to see again.
"Wolfman and Hart decided to give me a little help. Said something about you having a past in Sunnyhell." Connor laughed emotionlessly. "I figured I might as well blow up your past," he glanced at Buffy, "at the same time I do your future," he stated looking at Cordy.
Knowing that emotion would only encourage Connor to press the little red button he held in his hand, Angel forced himself to focus on the hostages. He couldn't...wouldn't be responsible for Buffy's...for Cordelia's, hell, for either of their deaths. "And them, Conner?" Angel glanced around the room at all of the hesitantly hopeful faces looking at him. "What did they do to deserve this?" Angel focused all of his energy on not glancing at the two people he was really referring to. Looking straight at Connor instead, Angel took an intimmidating step forward. A cry from the back of the room reminded Angel that this was a hostage situation. "Please. Just...give me a chance. I know you're upset about-"
"You don't deserve one, " Connor stated tersely, not even allowing Angel to finish the sentence. "Neither do they," he whispered.
"Don't they though?" Angel knew that there must be some part of his son that would regret killing innocents. Or, he thought he knew.
"Didn't *I*? Where was my second chance? At least these people had a choice: they knew love. True love, from what Jasmine gave them. *You* took that away from them, and here they are. Trying to immitate what they had with a goddess with mere humans. It's pathetic. They're all pathetic. And they are going to die knowing it." His last statement carried the crazed tone and passion of a madman. Fire blazed in his eyes.
Angel sighed, wondering if he had been like this when he had gone over the edge and had allowed those lawyers to get murdered. Like father, like son. "You're *not* a demon Connor," he bit out. "You can't kill these people without regretting it later."
Thinking the opposite to be true, Connor shrugged it off. "Whatever." Deciding to end the pointless arguing, he made a show of fingering a separate panel of two red switches in his other hand. Turning his head toward the two blondes, he spoke. "Damn, I forgot which one's which. What do you think: left or right?"
That was it. Angel felt himself slide into game-face as he rushed the young boy, intent on only knocking him out. Mindful of the red wire about Connor's waist, he tossed a right hook at Connor's stomach. Connor ducked under the oncoming fist and brought his legs around in an attempt to trip Angel. Expecting the move, the vampire jumped, lashing out to successfully knock the controls out of Connor's hands. Relieved, Angel took the fight up a notch by executing a kick to his son's chest that sent the boy across the room.
As blood filled his mouth, Connor rasped out, "It's over. You lost," before falling unconcious.
Horrified, Angel snapped around to face the doorway, where a very smug Faith stood, lowering her foot on the forgotten remote.