~*-*~
Angel had stopped frowning and was slightly baffled at this point. That was not the reaction he had expected. Then again, he wasn't quite sure what he was expecting Spike to do. He didn't have time to think further as he heard his son's footsteps behind him.
"Oh, hey Connor. It's late, you should be asleep."
Connor held up his near finished sandwich, and then finished it.
"I was hungry."
"Right. Right."
Angel placed his hands in his pockets, a gesture that showed nervousness. Obviously it would show nervousness, since Angel was nervous. He still wasn't quite so sure how to handle his teenage son. Most parents don't know how to handle their teenagers, let alone ones that have been estranged from their parents for sixteen years. The thought of estranged children brought Angel back to Spike and their previous argument.
"How long have you been standing there?"
"Long enough. It's not like it matters where I stand though. I have super hearing."
Connor smirked before continuing.
"Must have inherited it from my mother."
The thought of the woman Angel had spent near to a century and half with had to make him smile. It was a sad smile though, as it reminded Angel that Darla wasn't here. She wasn't here to see the son she'd given birth to. Darla would never be able to hold him, talk to him or nurture him. She'd been nothing but a body. The Powers had used her as a rental for their mystical child, and then discarded her without a moments pause. It hurt Angel just to think about it.
She should be here.
He could see her in him. Nobody else seemed to, but Angel did. The air of superiority. The pride. Sixteen years in hell with the enemy couldn't change that. Angel looked at his son. Darla's son.
"Yeah. She was a great person."
"You loved her?"
Angel thought about this. Two years ago the answer wasn't easy. Now he was sure. When he was with Darla he didn't have a soul. And he'd always said he was incapable of loving anything. But they did share a form of love, twisted and perverse as it was, but it was still love. The short time they had spent together after she'd returned was special too. Angel had watched this woman give up her life for the baby they'd created. It was easy now.
"Yes. Yes I did."
"And it's my fault that she's not with you anymore."
Angel took these words in and frowned at the thought. Connor thought there was blame involved?
"What? No. Connor, don't think that."
Connor stated his belief in a rather matter of fact way.
"She died to save me right? So, if I didn't exist then she still would be alive."
"It's not that simple."
Indeed it wasn't, not that Connor knew it. Connor had been raised by a puritanical man from the eighteenth century. He had the same ideals, morals and mind processes of someone from two centuries ago. He had so much to learn. But for now, he was busy spewing the thoughts that had been instilled him since he was taken away.
"I'm the bastard child of a vampire. I was never meant to happen."
"That's not true!"
Angel just shook his head in disbelief.
"Connor, what brought this on all of a sudden?"
Connor continued to answer simply.
"You're in a bad place, remember?"
"That was back then, not now."
Connor looked away and sighed.
"I'm just making it worse. I don't belong here."
"You're not making things worse. You've made it so much better, you wouldn't believe how much."
Angel took Connor by the shoulders, almost trying to shake the idea out of him.
"Connor, having you in this world means more to me than I ever thought anything could. Never forget that. I love you Connor. You're my son, and you belong here with me."
The boy looked up into his father's eyes, almost unbelievingly.
"Then why are you so mad?"
"I'm not mad."
"Yes you are! Ever since you got back you've been angry with me."
Connor went and sat down defeated on the circular couch.
"I know I can't take back what I did, and I said I was sorry."
"Oh, I'm not angry at you."
Angel had to think that one through.
"Not anymore. I was, but I've forgiven you. Really, I have. In your situation, I probably would have done the same thing."
Connor frowned in confusion. If his father would have done the same, then why was it still a bad thing to do?
"Even though vengeance is wrong?"
Angel smiled.
"Even though vengeance is wrong."
He moved to sit down next to his son.
"Connor, I'm not pretending to be perfect. Nobody is. I've done things in my lifetime purely out of a thirst for vengeance, even with my soul. To want revenge for something is a natural human reaction. We just have to slowly condition ourselves against it."
Connor paused in thought.
"So, you're not angry with me?"
"No."
Connor jumped and snapped at his father, which was yet another reaction of the day Angel was not prepared for.
"Then why are you like this?"
"Like what?"
"Angry! You've been furious with everyone for the whole day!"
Angel thought back to his dealings for the day. He hadn't been furious with everyone the whole day had he? Angel had snapped at Fred that once, and then Gunn and Wesley... and yes. He'd been angry at everyone. Oops.
"I guess I have been a little sharp with everyone for a while."
Angel put his finger right on the reason he'd been angry with everyone.
"It's just... Spike and I have a complicated relationship. He has a tendency to put my back up a lot. Sorry if I've been taking it out on you."
Connor folded his arms.
"And Spike?"
Angel shrugged. He wasn't really all too fussed about Spike at the moment.
"What about him?"
"Why have you been taking it out on Spike? I heard what you said to him."
"Nothing that wasn't true."
"How could you say something so hurtful to Spike?"
Angel's eyes widened as he jumped off the couch and threw his arms up.
"What the hell? Did he brainwash everyone or something and I'm the only one who can see him for the monster he is?"
"He's the same monster you are."
Angel gestured towards the doors Spike had left through as he spoke.
"No he's not the same! He's a vampire!"
"So are you."
"Yes, but I have a soul, a conscience!"
Connor countered him on that point.
"So does he."
Angel stared blankly at what his son was inferring.
"What?!"
Connor explained, as if this fact was common knowledge to everyone.
"Spike has a soul, you know that."
Angel was clearly not a part of everyone. He blinked repeatedly and his mouth dropped. Connor was watching his dad's reaction and hissed through his teeth.
"You do know that right?"
Angel slowly shook his head. This was clearly taking a while to register.
"Oh. See I thought you knew that."
All of a sudden, Angel needed to breathe. Why was it that only now did he feel the need for oxygen? Angel was panting in shock, shock not only from the mother load of Spike having a soul, but also from the load of feeling the need to pant.
"Wow, I thought he'd have told you by now. That's why he's here."
Angel looked out the doors and then back at Connor.
"He has a soul?"
Boy, nothing gets past Angel does it?
"Yeah, and he couldn't deal. And so he came to you."
Connor twisted the knife.
"And whilst he's suffering all kinds of guilt and a feeling of utter worthlessness, you go and make him feel like even more of a nobody."
Angel was still shaking his head. He was still in shock. This wasn't something he was going to get used to quickly.
"I didn't know. I couldn't tell."
His hand moved to his head and ran quickly through his hair, which was still in no fit state by Angel's standards, not that Angel cared about his hair anymore.
"I should have been able to tell. Why was I not able to tell?"
Then it hit him. The sign that he missed for the past few days. The indicator that only made sense now.
"His eyes. Oh God, his eyes."
They'd lost their sparkle. Spike hadn't been happy since he'd been here. The fire that had always burned in his eyes was dead, and that what the guilt had done. Angel had been able to tell Spike was different, but he didn't know exactly how. It should have been obvious. But instead, he'd ripped into him and ignored all the telltale signs. Spike clearly hadn't been sleeping. He was thinner. He was sober. And most of all he was here. And yet Angel didn't even notice.
"I'm a terrible person."
Connor relayed the advice his father (and Sabrina The Teenage Witch, funnily enough) had given to him earlier.
"Everyone makes mistakes."
Angel sat down and held his head in his hands. He couldn't get over what he'd done, and what he'd said. Through sheer ignorance he'd kicked Spike when he was down, when he was most vulnerable. Angel thought back to how he felt over a century ago when he first gained his soul, and tried to imagine how he would react to the belittling that Spike had just suffered. Angel knew he had to go and talk to him.
Connor moved next to Angel and took this opportunity to help his father, in a strange reversal of roles.
"I've watched him. He's hiding behind that bravado, but he's broken inside."
Angel looked up at his son, the young man who spoke with wisdom beyond his years.
"He can't do this without you."
~*-*~
Author's Note: Angel knows! Angel knows! He finally knows!
Sabra - You know, I've never rocked anybody's socks before. Cool... Blue Star? Sweetie, you're like my... shining blue star! I wuv you lots!
