THE LABOUR & THE WOUNDS
By Allegra

Thank you to everyone who has so kindly reviewed my story. It is really encouraging & makes it so much more exciting to write. In answer to one question, yes, Wesley will have a part to play in all this, he's just biding his time. He'll probably make an appearance in the next chapter.

I hope you enjoy this part & please let me know what you think. I'd love to get some feedback from you all :)

See Part 1 for all other disclaimers, notes etc.

CHAPTER 3

The hours had dripped by like Japanese water torture. Connor had been trying to prepare himself for the night's events, psyche himself up for the thrill of the fight. Somehow, this felt different. He was aware something he would have identified as panic if it had been a word he'd understood or experienced. In fact, to a more human individual, his behaviour - hand-wringing and pacing - would have been classic signs of anxiety and even fear. Connor didn't know this. He wasn't familiar with either of those sensations. He only knew the adrenaline rush as a demon ran at him, the satisfying wrench as he plunged a stake into its chosen heart or the whoosh of metal meeting the jugular. So, why wasn't he looking forward to this night? For the first time since being returned from Quor'tah to this miserable dimension, Connor actually felt like he didn't want to fight.

"You're on, kid." Fax Torrance's head appeared around the door of the office. "You ready?" Connor wasn't sure whether he was ready or not. He sure as hell didn't feel like it. Drawing himself up to his full height, his voice sounded strained. "I'm ready." He pushed past Fax and marched down the corridor as if he owned the place. As he approached the door at the end, he could hear voices shouting, the sheer volume enough to burst a man's ear drums. Then, as Connor's ears adjusted, the shouting separated into a rhythm. They were chanting. They were chanting his name. "Bring us the Kid! The Kid! The Kid!" It was hard to identify at first, demon voices mingled with the precise human calls of his native language. High-pitched wails fell in with the trill of another demon species which in turn merged with the gruff tones of yet another. Then, dimly, Connor could make out a voice which rose above the rest. He recognised the voice of Fax's business associate, Cole. He was spurring the crowd on, firing their blood lust. He ran through a list of adjectives that Connor would need a dictionary to identify.

Connor's heart was pounding in his chest, speeding up with every step he took. He could feel the blood thumping in his temples, the sweat prickling down his back and in his palms as he reached out for the door handle. Fax's hand closed over his, dragging him back. "Wait, kid! He's larging you up! You gotta wait for your entrance."

The teenager's instincts told him to shove Fax's hand away and get on with it, but sense told him to follow the man's lead. He didn't understand any of this, didn't understand the way it worked. He thought he was here to fight. He didn't know the etiquette and rules. It was fight to the death. That was all he needed to know.

Suddenly, the ringing in his head stopped and Fax gripped his shoulder, tightly. "Right, kid. Now, you're on. Let them have a piece of you!" He swung open the door and Connor squinted into the bright, white light focused on the entrance. He put a hand up to shield himself from the glare and took one step into the room. Silence had descended on the room and, even blinded, Connor could feel their eyes upon him.

As he moved out of the spotlight, Connor's eyes tracked along the first line of spectators. Demon and human alike stared back, inquisitive, accusing, expectant. As he approached the ring, prepared to meet his opponent, the first jeer went up from somewhere in the ranks. "Hey, what is this?! We didn't come here to see a baby being torn apart! Come on, Cole, there ain't nothing to him! This ain't no show."

Cole raised a hand in protest, "Hey, you ain't seen nothing yet! Give him a chance! I'm telling you, people, this kid is the real deal. You'd better watch your back because he walks among you!" He turned and winked at Connor as he climbed into the cage. If the teenager was reassured, he made no show of it. His eyes looked dead, like he had already locked down his emotions for the night. He was a lion hungry for the kill. But Cole couldn't help the shiver of concern he felt. What was he thinking? This was no lion, he was a cub at best, a whelp. He inched closer to Connor's corner of the ring and lowered his voice, "Are you sure you want to go through with this, kid? There's still time to back out, you know. No one'll think any less of you."

Connor turned a cold gaze upon the host. "Thanks for the vote of confidence." Taking the response as a refusal to bow out gracefully, Cole shrugged and began his introduction to the fight. The teenager had missed his adversary's build-up and his face was half cast in shadow on the opposite side of the ring. Whatever it was, it was big. Connor started to size the creature up - big usually meant slow and speed was of the essence. Big usually meant tough so he'd have to find a weak point, possibly in the head region or loins. The teenager's mind slowly shifted focus from 'fight or flight' to strategy. Things were just starting to get challenging again. He had made it through the rigmarole of preparation, waiting and introduction. Now the show was about to start and he knew what he had to do.

Within a few moments, the lights dimmed until the only illumination was directed on the centre of the cage. Gradually, the spotlight separated into two and drifted across the cage to the two rivals' respective corners. The demon was brought forth from obscurity into the broad light and Connor could see exactly what he was facing. A Vahrall demon.

**********

Angel moved slowly down the street, dragging his feet a little. If the truth be told, he was grateful to be outside the hotel for a while. Even in a place that size, a guy could start to feel like the walls were sliding inwards. Since Cordelia had regained all memory of who she was, his world had got a little stranger. Until that last night before her disappearance, their feelings for each other had been kept guarded. Occasionally, there were flashes of electricity that alerted them to the chemistry between them, but they had never acted on it, well, except for that one time.... Anyway, the point was that he was getting increasingly confused. Cordy was back and she remembered that they were in love, but had she changed her mind? She was distant.

They had both been through so much since that night. Angel certainly knew he didn't want to go back and relive it. Maybe if Cordelia had been there when Wesley had released him, he'd have opened up to her, but not now. It was an unfortunate chapter of his unfortunate existence that she hadn't been a part of and, in truth, Angel wasn't sure he wanted her to know. It might just make her sympathetic and then there'd be another emotion to get confused over.

Shoving all thoughts of Cordelia aside for a moment, Angel descended the narrow staircase into The Hole where the beat pumped hard and loud. He made his way through the crowds of demons, some dancing, some drinking, some just chatting up the ladies. His dark eyes darted around the room, looking for some familiar faces. Boy, it had been a long time since he'd been down here. Finally, his eyes lighted on the barman and he pushed his way to the counter.

"Hey, Ty! What's up, man?" He tried to sound as casual and un-detective-like as possible.

Tyler, a Forlasch demon with conspicuously sharp but completely harmless blue horns, sauntered up the bar. "Hey, Angel! Long time no see. How's life above ground? You still got that soul of yours?"

Angel nodded, "Yep. I like a low profile."

Ty poured him a shot of tequila and pushed it across the counter. "You're telling me. No one's heard a word on you since the last apocalypse scare. But, for what it's worth, I like you with a soul." He leaned in closer, lowering his voice to a hoarse whisper. "I don't want to ruin my cred as a tough guy, but there are days when I just don't feel like eating kittens for dinner, you know? Just give me a Chinese take-away and I'm happy as Larry."

Angel laughed. "Your secret's safe with me." He glanced up and down the bar, checking who might be in hearing range. "Listen, Ty, have you seen Brian lately?"

Ty's face fell into a mask of solemnity. "Didn't you hear? Brian's dead. Took a blade through the fryer. We always used to joke he had shit for brains. Guess there must have been more up top than we gave him credit for."

Angel feigned ignorance. "That's too bad. How did it happen?"

Ty stepped back, eyeing Angel suspiciously. "Are you on the case now then? Listen, Angel, watch your back, man. People haven't been taking too kindly to the rumours about your demon-hunting job. There your own kind, man. If you're going to take revenge for Brian, go ahead, but don't say I didn't warn you."

Angel knocked back his tequila. "Hey, you telling me you've met a demon who doesn't stab his friends in the back? That'd be a first. Besides, it pays the bills." He saw Ty visibly relax and continued. "Can't a guy just ask how his old buddy met such a horrible death?"

Ty sighed, "Yeah, Brian was a good bud, wasn't he?" For a moment his eyes glazed over with memories of better times. Snapping out of it, he said, "I wish I could give you a good story, Angel, but truth is Brian got mixed up with the wrong sort, if you know what I'm saying. It was a hazard of the job, I guess. What goes around comes around. He did some pretty mean stuff in his time."

Angel nodded acknowledgement. "Yeah. Thanks, Ty." He stood to leave.

Ty exclaimed, "You're going already!?"

Angel began to push his way towards the door and called back. "It was good to see you again," but made no commitment. These were people he wanted to keep on side but didn't really want to get involved with again.

**********

Connor circled the Vahrall demon with all the menace of a practised predator, precisely sizing up the capabilities of his foe and planning his first move. The demon seemed to be doing the same and, for a moment, the pair made no attempts to place a blow until finally the Vahrall lunged for the teenager. Connor deftly dodged the scaly fist aimed at his face and ducked in time to land a punch to the demon's gut.

The teenager began to tune out the shouts of the crowd, ignoring the conflicting voices that had already chosen who would win the fight. Even then, he could still tell the majority was rooting for the demon. Connor couldn't blame them; he could picture the view from their side of the mesh fence, but it only made his blood run higher. He would prove them wrong, prove that this 'kid' was better than any scabby demon breed they could throw at him.

Fired by this new flame of passion, Connor threw all his energies into bringing this demon down. It felt strange not to have a weapon in his hand for aid, but he could still do it. He had the guts, the speed, and God knows he had the strength. Running at his aggressor, Connor shifted course minutely, grabbing the mesh behind the demon and using it to lever himself into a high backward flip. Flying through the air, he landed squarely in front of the Vahrall, taken completely unawares. He clasped both hands together and brought them down with full force onto the demon's head, directly between the horns. It was weak point in most species, the idea being that no one would get close enough to such an area before being impaled.

The Vahrall emitted a roar of pain and anger, his eyes suddenly glowing bright red in the smoky, dim room. Connor backed into his own corner, ready to lever himself out of the head butt he was anticipating. He whispered encouragement under his breath, "Come on, come on!" He could feel the adrenaline rushing through his veins, the blood pumping fast like a drug penetrating every cell of his body and only impelling him to take the fight to another level. This was just starting to get fun.

As expected, the demon ran him, head angled ready to impale Connor on those sharp horns. The teenager prepared to twist his body to the side at the last minute, effectively trapping himself between the horns. He had a plan to hold the Vahrall caught in the wire mesh, giving him time to attack the sensitive parts of his head, unhindered. But the devil had seen the plan coming. Shifting direction at the last moment, one horn caught the youngster in the ribs as he turned to avoid the onslaught.

Connor stifled a cry of pain, the shock forcing the air out of his lungs in a sudden rush. The demon was caught in the mesh as he had hoped, but so was he by the knife-like protusion on its head. The teenager could feel the heat of his own blood already welling in the wound and, with the Vahrall writhing against the cage, the pain was only made worse as the flesh was wrenched this way and that.

Hitching in a breath despite the sting it caused, Connor squeezed his eyes closed and gritted his teeth as he pulled himself free of the horn, leaving some of his own flesh behind. He used the Vahrall's head to ease himself up and out from the space in which he was trapped and slid over its scaled back, landing firmly on his feet. Determined to finish the fight properly, he kicked the demon solidly between the legs, forcing the creature to its knees with a holler of pain. Moving to its head, Connor climbed the mesh with all the skill of a monkey swinging through branches and positioned himself directly over the Vahrall's head.

Seeing it writhing beneath him, caught in the wires, he took a moment to survey the scene of his glory. All eyes were turned on him, some were masks of amazement that this human-like creature could wield such power, while others bore hatred to hide their fear. A few still shouted the demon's name, trying to will him back from the brink of defeat. Connor felt a smug grin settle on his lips, the satisfaction of knowing success in the eyes of strangers. So few ever saw his talents, not even the people he saved from miserable fates down dark alleys at night. Finally, he was reaping the rewards.

Dropping down onto the demon still languishing beneath him, Connor drove each foot into each of the horns, letting the creature drop, unmoving to the floor. Vibrant orange liquid oozed from the two wounds and Connor yanked the horns free of the mesh, holding them like trophies above his head.

The crowd cheered, their benevolent voices carrying to the teenager's ears like blessed prayers. Money was changing hands at the end of the fight like there was no tomorrow, most going home empty handed after the unexpected win. Connor was victorious and, even better, he was going to be rich.

Cole stepped into the cage and held Connor's arm aloft, declaring him the winner of the match, asking people to think carefully before placing their bets the next fight, revelling in the glory of the crowd's ignorance. This was one win they hadn't seen coming.

From his vantage point at the back of the room, Fax scrutinised the young hero. Blood oozed from the wound in Connor's side, but he did not even flinch when Cole yanked his arm over his head in a winner's cheer. The kid's face was radiant with a child-like delight at the reaction he was receiving. Fax liked it. It meant there was enthusiasm and that always made his job easier. There was no doubt about it, this kid was made of a metal stronger than any of his previous contenders. He could see the hunger for a fight in his eyes. There was money to be made here and lots of it.

As he pushed his way back towards his own office to count the night's takings, Fax listened to the snippets of conversation as he passed. All were stunned at their losses - the Vahrall demon had seemed a certain win against that slip of a child. Still, they were certainly going to think more carefully about how they placed their bets next time; they'd come back for more any night this kid was fighting. Fax even enjoyed a few pats on the back as he shuffled through the crowd. Oh no, he wasn't going to let this kid slip through his fingers.

**********

END OF CHAPTER 3

Next part coming soon!