First a quick note: Sorry this chapter is a little late, folks. We had a
small family crisis here today.
After the Storm
Chapter 8
By Vixen
It was quiet on the Santa Monica pier that afternoon. Most people had decided to play it safe and stay tucked away in their cozy home and Hollywood penthouses upon hearing the new. More riots, more violence, more unnamed demons enjoying their reprieve without champions to strike back at them. The police had made a series of arrests of the human sort, but nothing could keep the danger away, or the feeling that something dark and foreboding was right around the corner.
Even the ocean had grown rough and rocky in the aftermath of the Black Thorn's shake up. Whitecaps covered its wide expanse, making the water look dark and murky. The gusts that blew across the shoreline hit Connor in the face, his brown hair riled up into a frenzy of activity. He, on the other hand, was still as he walked against the wind down one dock.
It had seemed a good idea at the time. The cemetery where Cordelia was buried was only a short walk from the pier. Connor had decided to stop by one of the delicatessens since there was no food back at the hotel, get a sandwich (ham, lettuce, and tomato. His favorite, just like his mother used to make on family picnics), and then enjoy some sun and general people watching.
He thought he would be able to handle it, the ocean full of past memories and moments best left forgotten. The spot where he and Justine had dropped his father down into the deep-sea was miles away, but it didn't matter. It was the same ocean, the same waters. He only wondered if he was the same person.
It had been a test. Connor knew this. Subconsciously he had wanted to know how bad it would feel confronting this particular past misdeed. Honestly, it felt like crap.
He wouldn't leave however, and only unwrapped his sandwich and sat down on one of the weathered wooden benches that faced the water. He couldn't run forever. If he was getting back into the game, Connor needed to know how far the guilt ran. He still wasn't sure why he was back in LA at all. Was it just to save the others, or atone for the past? Or did he really want to become a champion, a hero?
The part of him who had grown up in the quiet suburban community he had just left behind admitted being a hero would be cool. Comic books had been one of his dorky kid obsessions; he always wanted some kind of superpower to make him unique. It was the reason he thought Wolfram and Hart was so cool the first time he had visited, better than college. It was the reason he had taken it all in stride. However, when the whole truth finally came out, he had been left to ponder what was so special about being unique anyway. It only complicated things and brought up questions Connor didn't think he'd ever have the answers for.
The waves slapped against the base of the docks, spraying mist into the air. It fell against Connor's skin, the cool salty ocean water breaking him from the multitude of questions. Packing up the remainder of his lunch, Connor stowed it away in his duffel bag. It was time to start heading back to the hotel, the new base of operations. He made a mental note to pick up some candles on the way back, and started down the dock.
It was then that he noticed it. Down on the beach, three rather large and hairy demons were playing monkey in the middle with a pair of humans, shoving them around, toying with them. Connor shook his head, "Looks like more trouble." Then a giddy smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he began to anticipate the action, "Oh goody."
Hoping over the boardwalk's railing, Connor landed on the beach below. His feet sunk into the sand, and kicked up around his heels. It had been a quiet landing; the demons hadn't noticed him yet. Good. That meant he still had the element of surprise.
The humans had seen him though, and the expressions on their faces gave him away. They were overjoyed, but Connor was soon spotted. Damn. Quickly, Connor moved into action. He ran over to the melee and chucked his duffle bag at one of the hairy demons. Surprised by the sudden weight coming careening towards it's torso, the demon fell over with an oomph.
"Hey, guys," Connor smiled his 'gee whiz, isn't is a great day' smile. The demons were not amused. Connor seemed to be enjoying the scene though, "Is this a private party, or can anyone join in?"
One of the demons pointed its long bony finger at him, "You're most impetuous for a human."
"Gee, really? Thanks," Connor spit out dryly. He watched as the demon that had fallen rose back onto its feet. Together with the other two, they turned from their original prey and came in closer towards Connor, amazed by his rash display of stupidity and the strength in his fighting stance.
The demon that had spoken came closer, challenging the boy. "You're most welcome to join, human, we always need more food on the menu."
"I kinda had a different plan in mind," Connor threw a wild right hook at its face, shattering its jaw with the blow. "How about I kick your ass and then later I kill you? How's that work for you, huh?" He pushed his elbow up and into another demon's chin. "Besides, your 'meal' already ran away while you were busy with me." The boy and girl, probably a romantic college couple by the looks of it, were already running down the beach. They hadn't even bothered to say thanks or see if Connor was okay. Not that the boy minded, he probably would have done the same thing if it had been a few months earlier.
"You made us lose our dinner," The only speaking demon said through its broken jaw. Connor was surprised how eloquent his speak was, even after hearing the shattering of bones before. It didn't even seem to be in that much pain; this could be a problem. "And you are too puny to be much of a feast."
"Hey, who are you calling puny," Connor said as the other two grabbed a hold of his arms, trapping him for the time being. His mind ran at full steam trying to figure out a way around this situation. The speaking-demon came closer to him, smiling at its lackeys. They thought they had him and Connor was beginning to admit they might be right.
"No matter, you will do for now. At least for me. My minions can enjoy their suppers later when we track down those who you let get away." It came closer still, breathing in Connor's face. It scrapped one long silvery nail from its claw down his chin. The boy didn't even flinch; he didn't want to give the thing the benefit of his pain. "This city does not belong to you humans anymore. There's no one to stop us from doing what ever we wish. Not anymore."
"That's what you think. But you know what," Connor did a flip kick, hitting the speaking-demon in its head, while twisting out of the other's grasp, "There's still me!" He unleashed everything he had then, spilling out every emotion that had been building inside of him within the past day. All the pain, regret, everything he could not change, he took it out on those three demons. They didn't stand a chance once the Destroyer had been let loose.
Connor didn't even know what had happened. By the time he knew it, the three things were lying by his feet, dead. He had let go of his animal instincts. It was amazing how easy it was once he let go, of everything. Yet now, he felt a little used. He'd open up his emotions, let go of the part of himself he had tried to bury, but it had been necessary. He shuddered, feeling too close to the old Connor.
When he got over his initial shock, Connor stood over the three demons, wondering who was going to have to clean the mess up. He wasn't going to do it; he'd already killed the things. Body removal was not part of the hero's job description. He sighed, if only his mother hadn't taught him better than to leave his mess around for someone else to clean up. Eventually he decided to just drag the three of them into the ocean and let the tide take care of the rest. He grunted as he pushed the last one into the waves, "The things they don't teach you in comic books."
He unrolled the cuffs of his pants and slipped back into his sneakers, he'd taken them off so they wouldn't get wet when he dragged the disgusting hairy corpses into the water. He stopped suddenly as he pushed the second shoe onto his foot. There was something out there watching him, stalking him, just waiting for the right moment to make its move. The presence made no sound, couldn't be smelt or sniffed out. It just was. Connor looked over his shoulder, feeling the one emotion he hated most of all, the feeling of being hunted.
"Come out, come out, wherever you are," he whispered, making a slow turn. His gaze paused over every piece of scenery, carefully making a full audit of his surroundings. The thing would never be able to catch him off guard, Connor would make sure of that. He stood his ground, daring it to make the first move, but it didn't. Hidden somewhere within the shadows, it was content to bide its time. Whenever it was ready to be seen, Connor knew that he would be ready too.
Slinging his duffle bag back over his shoulder, Connor took one last look around the beach, wishing the thing would come out and show itself. It didn't though, so he continued on back to the hotel.
The trip to the Hyperion took longer than had been expected. Some of the buses on the schedule weren't running. Most of the drivers had been frightened into staying home, like the other citizens of the city that day. Figuring out which buses would run their route and where they would stop was narrowed down to only educated guesses. Eventually, he had walked fifteen blocks to the hotel, fed up with the endless guessing game.
Though, it worked out in his favor since he passed a local shop that had some candles. He'd almost forgotten about picking those up. At least he'd have some light in the hotel now.
By the time he reached the hotel, the sun was setting. He had wanted to patrol that night, just like old times, but after the long day all he wanted now was to get some sleep. His hand felt the gash the demon had given him on his cheek, inspecting it. It was still wet with blood, sticky to the touch. "Yep, just like old times."
When he reached the front door of the hotel, Connor found it open. Remembering he had locked it he sighed, "What now?" Readying himself for more fighting, he walked inside, looking around warily. His eyes stopped when he saw who was standing in the lobby. In the early evening light that came through the windows, her wavy brown hair lit up magnificently. It matched the glint in her angry eyes. He recognized her instantly, "Faith?" He dropped his duffle bag on the floor; this day just kept getting more interesting as it wore on. At least there was no need to fight now. She was standing next to him on the stairs in an instant, still looking rather pissed off.
"Who the hell are you," she punched him in the nose, not waiting for a response. It was then that Connor realized how unsteady she looked, like an emotional storm had been raised up inside her, "And where's Angel?"
With one hand covering his now bleeding nose, Connor muttered under his breath, "Wonderful."
..................................
Feedback me, Seymour! (man, that plant from Little Shop of Horrors is creepy.)
After the Storm
Chapter 8
By Vixen
It was quiet on the Santa Monica pier that afternoon. Most people had decided to play it safe and stay tucked away in their cozy home and Hollywood penthouses upon hearing the new. More riots, more violence, more unnamed demons enjoying their reprieve without champions to strike back at them. The police had made a series of arrests of the human sort, but nothing could keep the danger away, or the feeling that something dark and foreboding was right around the corner.
Even the ocean had grown rough and rocky in the aftermath of the Black Thorn's shake up. Whitecaps covered its wide expanse, making the water look dark and murky. The gusts that blew across the shoreline hit Connor in the face, his brown hair riled up into a frenzy of activity. He, on the other hand, was still as he walked against the wind down one dock.
It had seemed a good idea at the time. The cemetery where Cordelia was buried was only a short walk from the pier. Connor had decided to stop by one of the delicatessens since there was no food back at the hotel, get a sandwich (ham, lettuce, and tomato. His favorite, just like his mother used to make on family picnics), and then enjoy some sun and general people watching.
He thought he would be able to handle it, the ocean full of past memories and moments best left forgotten. The spot where he and Justine had dropped his father down into the deep-sea was miles away, but it didn't matter. It was the same ocean, the same waters. He only wondered if he was the same person.
It had been a test. Connor knew this. Subconsciously he had wanted to know how bad it would feel confronting this particular past misdeed. Honestly, it felt like crap.
He wouldn't leave however, and only unwrapped his sandwich and sat down on one of the weathered wooden benches that faced the water. He couldn't run forever. If he was getting back into the game, Connor needed to know how far the guilt ran. He still wasn't sure why he was back in LA at all. Was it just to save the others, or atone for the past? Or did he really want to become a champion, a hero?
The part of him who had grown up in the quiet suburban community he had just left behind admitted being a hero would be cool. Comic books had been one of his dorky kid obsessions; he always wanted some kind of superpower to make him unique. It was the reason he thought Wolfram and Hart was so cool the first time he had visited, better than college. It was the reason he had taken it all in stride. However, when the whole truth finally came out, he had been left to ponder what was so special about being unique anyway. It only complicated things and brought up questions Connor didn't think he'd ever have the answers for.
The waves slapped against the base of the docks, spraying mist into the air. It fell against Connor's skin, the cool salty ocean water breaking him from the multitude of questions. Packing up the remainder of his lunch, Connor stowed it away in his duffel bag. It was time to start heading back to the hotel, the new base of operations. He made a mental note to pick up some candles on the way back, and started down the dock.
It was then that he noticed it. Down on the beach, three rather large and hairy demons were playing monkey in the middle with a pair of humans, shoving them around, toying with them. Connor shook his head, "Looks like more trouble." Then a giddy smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he began to anticipate the action, "Oh goody."
Hoping over the boardwalk's railing, Connor landed on the beach below. His feet sunk into the sand, and kicked up around his heels. It had been a quiet landing; the demons hadn't noticed him yet. Good. That meant he still had the element of surprise.
The humans had seen him though, and the expressions on their faces gave him away. They were overjoyed, but Connor was soon spotted. Damn. Quickly, Connor moved into action. He ran over to the melee and chucked his duffle bag at one of the hairy demons. Surprised by the sudden weight coming careening towards it's torso, the demon fell over with an oomph.
"Hey, guys," Connor smiled his 'gee whiz, isn't is a great day' smile. The demons were not amused. Connor seemed to be enjoying the scene though, "Is this a private party, or can anyone join in?"
One of the demons pointed its long bony finger at him, "You're most impetuous for a human."
"Gee, really? Thanks," Connor spit out dryly. He watched as the demon that had fallen rose back onto its feet. Together with the other two, they turned from their original prey and came in closer towards Connor, amazed by his rash display of stupidity and the strength in his fighting stance.
The demon that had spoken came closer, challenging the boy. "You're most welcome to join, human, we always need more food on the menu."
"I kinda had a different plan in mind," Connor threw a wild right hook at its face, shattering its jaw with the blow. "How about I kick your ass and then later I kill you? How's that work for you, huh?" He pushed his elbow up and into another demon's chin. "Besides, your 'meal' already ran away while you were busy with me." The boy and girl, probably a romantic college couple by the looks of it, were already running down the beach. They hadn't even bothered to say thanks or see if Connor was okay. Not that the boy minded, he probably would have done the same thing if it had been a few months earlier.
"You made us lose our dinner," The only speaking demon said through its broken jaw. Connor was surprised how eloquent his speak was, even after hearing the shattering of bones before. It didn't even seem to be in that much pain; this could be a problem. "And you are too puny to be much of a feast."
"Hey, who are you calling puny," Connor said as the other two grabbed a hold of his arms, trapping him for the time being. His mind ran at full steam trying to figure out a way around this situation. The speaking-demon came closer to him, smiling at its lackeys. They thought they had him and Connor was beginning to admit they might be right.
"No matter, you will do for now. At least for me. My minions can enjoy their suppers later when we track down those who you let get away." It came closer still, breathing in Connor's face. It scrapped one long silvery nail from its claw down his chin. The boy didn't even flinch; he didn't want to give the thing the benefit of his pain. "This city does not belong to you humans anymore. There's no one to stop us from doing what ever we wish. Not anymore."
"That's what you think. But you know what," Connor did a flip kick, hitting the speaking-demon in its head, while twisting out of the other's grasp, "There's still me!" He unleashed everything he had then, spilling out every emotion that had been building inside of him within the past day. All the pain, regret, everything he could not change, he took it out on those three demons. They didn't stand a chance once the Destroyer had been let loose.
Connor didn't even know what had happened. By the time he knew it, the three things were lying by his feet, dead. He had let go of his animal instincts. It was amazing how easy it was once he let go, of everything. Yet now, he felt a little used. He'd open up his emotions, let go of the part of himself he had tried to bury, but it had been necessary. He shuddered, feeling too close to the old Connor.
When he got over his initial shock, Connor stood over the three demons, wondering who was going to have to clean the mess up. He wasn't going to do it; he'd already killed the things. Body removal was not part of the hero's job description. He sighed, if only his mother hadn't taught him better than to leave his mess around for someone else to clean up. Eventually he decided to just drag the three of them into the ocean and let the tide take care of the rest. He grunted as he pushed the last one into the waves, "The things they don't teach you in comic books."
He unrolled the cuffs of his pants and slipped back into his sneakers, he'd taken them off so they wouldn't get wet when he dragged the disgusting hairy corpses into the water. He stopped suddenly as he pushed the second shoe onto his foot. There was something out there watching him, stalking him, just waiting for the right moment to make its move. The presence made no sound, couldn't be smelt or sniffed out. It just was. Connor looked over his shoulder, feeling the one emotion he hated most of all, the feeling of being hunted.
"Come out, come out, wherever you are," he whispered, making a slow turn. His gaze paused over every piece of scenery, carefully making a full audit of his surroundings. The thing would never be able to catch him off guard, Connor would make sure of that. He stood his ground, daring it to make the first move, but it didn't. Hidden somewhere within the shadows, it was content to bide its time. Whenever it was ready to be seen, Connor knew that he would be ready too.
Slinging his duffle bag back over his shoulder, Connor took one last look around the beach, wishing the thing would come out and show itself. It didn't though, so he continued on back to the hotel.
The trip to the Hyperion took longer than had been expected. Some of the buses on the schedule weren't running. Most of the drivers had been frightened into staying home, like the other citizens of the city that day. Figuring out which buses would run their route and where they would stop was narrowed down to only educated guesses. Eventually, he had walked fifteen blocks to the hotel, fed up with the endless guessing game.
Though, it worked out in his favor since he passed a local shop that had some candles. He'd almost forgotten about picking those up. At least he'd have some light in the hotel now.
By the time he reached the hotel, the sun was setting. He had wanted to patrol that night, just like old times, but after the long day all he wanted now was to get some sleep. His hand felt the gash the demon had given him on his cheek, inspecting it. It was still wet with blood, sticky to the touch. "Yep, just like old times."
When he reached the front door of the hotel, Connor found it open. Remembering he had locked it he sighed, "What now?" Readying himself for more fighting, he walked inside, looking around warily. His eyes stopped when he saw who was standing in the lobby. In the early evening light that came through the windows, her wavy brown hair lit up magnificently. It matched the glint in her angry eyes. He recognized her instantly, "Faith?" He dropped his duffle bag on the floor; this day just kept getting more interesting as it wore on. At least there was no need to fight now. She was standing next to him on the stairs in an instant, still looking rather pissed off.
"Who the hell are you," she punched him in the nose, not waiting for a response. It was then that Connor realized how unsteady she looked, like an emotional storm had been raised up inside her, "And where's Angel?"
With one hand covering his now bleeding nose, Connor muttered under his breath, "Wonderful."
..................................
Feedback me, Seymour! (man, that plant from Little Shop of Horrors is creepy.)