THE LABOUR AND THE WOUNDS

By Allegra

(See Part One for disclaimers etc.)

Big thank you to everyone who has reviewed! It is wonderful to hear your thoughts on the story so far and has made it much more enjoyable to write.

PART 12

"Watching blood spilled the only way you could get kicks into that cold heart of yours?" Wesley enquired, gesturing mildly to the towering infrastructure of the Hybridome.

The woman with her back to him froze instantly. She stood out from the crowd in her smart suit and crisp white shirt. Wesley almost wondered how she had survived making it this far into the throng without being accosted. Mind you, unless you spent most of your demon days holed up in another dimension it was virtually impossible to miss the emergence of Lilah Morgan as one of California's most formidable demon opponent. She turned, that smug half-smile creeping across her face.

Wesley added, "Or is this a business trip?"

Lilah opened her mouth to speak, characteristically unruffled by the Englishman's sudden appearance. Wesley, however, knew otherwise. Lilah's fearless face was merely a convenient and necessary mask in order to get through the working day. Demons could smell fear a mile away and Lilah had learned how to deceive them as well as she had deceived Wesley into believing her a good lover for a time.

"Wesley. I might ask the same of you."

"Yes, well, I asked first." Wesley cringed inwardly at how juvenile that particular line must have sounded. He pulled himself up to his full height as he had a tendency to do when challenged by someone more powerful than himself.

Lilah smiled, recognising the familiar stance. "Business. I like to keep my ear to the ground and there's no better way than this now is there?" She took a few steps closer to her lover as she spoke until Wesley could almost feel her breath against his neck.

"You might have tried harder to blend in? A woman wandering this kind of territory alone is undoubtedly going to meet opposition."

Lilah let out a breathy chuckle, "You offering to watch my back for me, Wes? Play the knight in shining armour? The charm of the Englishman never does quite wear off." She touched the front of his shirt fondly and peered up at him with boldly innocent eyes. "Are you here to watch Connor?"

Wesley's heart lurched in his chest. Throughout his 'relationship' with Lilah, he always hoped that some day she would find the good in herself and bind herself to it. All too often he was disappointed. Tonight was no different. No matter how much he willed himself that she had nothing to do with Connor's predicament, the facts stared him in the face and now they had been happily confirmed. "Lilah," he began, his voice low with admonition "I'm not alone. Angel is with me..."

"Ooh, I'm shaking in my Manolos. Do you really think, after all this time, I'm afraid of the big boss man? Besides, Connor's old enough to make his own decisions."

Wesley stared down at Lilah, his face hardening into tight lines of cold anger. "You've involved his family. Angel won't take that lightly. This isn't work any more, this is personal. I'm sure I don't have to quote you with the Watchers' diaries to reacquaint you with his methods of punishment."

"Hey, I may hate the guy, but I wasn't the one who recruited Junior to the team. He did that all on his own. In fact, I didn't even know about it until last night. That's why I'm here."

"I thought you said this was a business trip?" Wesley asked, cautiously, desperate to believe whatever yarn she spun next.

"I am. Wolfram and Hart had a little project going for a while that became mutually beneficial with Hybridome."

"Sounds dangerous."

Lilah shook her head, "We devoted some lab time to creating a demon life form which, injected with the correct samples, can give birth to pretty much any sort of demon or hybrid your Watcher's brain could imagine. Hybridome tests the offsprings' physical limits against your average demon breed. It's a mutually beneficial arrangement...for now anyway."

"That explains our difficulty in finding an antidote for the poison Connor received at The Cage," Wesley mused.

Lilah pulled a face. "Yeah, heard about that. Still, it takes a lot to keep that kid down, huh?" Her gaze moved pointedly to the images of Connor's fights spliced together on a huge plasma screen above the stadium.

"So you had nothing to do with his recruitment?" Wesley asked, determined to get one final, definitive answer.

"Nothing," Lilah said, her voice suddenly taking on a new found seriousness. She truly wanted him to believe her, whether to save her butt from Angel's wrath or, as Wesley hoped, because she cared about what he thought. "To be honest, he kind of threw a spanner in the works. The senior partners don't like to get Angel involved with anything, for obvious reasons. Now he's snooping round their projects. Low classification or not, it irks them. So, the quicker you get Connor out of here, the better." She eyed him with a smug expression. "That is what you're here for, right?"

"Yes."

"Then, I can I just ask the teeniest favour?" Lilah pleaded. "Don't make too much of a mess. The welfare of Hybridome is kind of important to our little project."

Wesley smiled, "You're asking Angel to keep the violence to a minimum where his own son is concerned?"

Lilah shrugged, "I guess that was a long shot."

**********

For a second, Connor simply stood in the doorway, staring at Angel. Then the sulky teenager in him began to surface. "Figured you'd show up." He turned his back and returned to the chair where he was busy getting changed. Angel took that as an invitation and slammed the door hard in the faces of the angry demons complaining that he'd jumped the queue.

"Nice to see you, too." He looked around the small changing room. It seemed nice enough, no peeling paint or ancient brown stains. Clearly, whoever ran Hybridome liked to keep the contenders in style. "So..." he began, unsure what kind of footing father and son were on at this point. A great deal had happened since their big argument about Connor's choice of career. "...are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Connor replied, tersely, not bothering to raise his head from the task of unlacing his trainers.

"You know, you could have left a note. After busting our butts to save yours, it would have been nice to know you appreciated it, that you were safe." Angel had not planned to approach this situation so aggressively but he couldn't help feeling bitter about Connor's rudeness and ingratitude.

Connor looked up, a strangely soft expression in his eyes. "Who said I sneaked off?" Then, catching the irritation in his own voice, he added, "But thanks." He glanced up towards a corner of the ceiling and Angel followed his gaze to see the lens of a small surveillance camera coming through the wall.

Angel knelt casually beside his son and spoke in a low voice. "Connor, I'm here to help you, you know that, right?"

Connor stopped what he was doing and looked up at his father, his eyes like those of a trapped animal. The boy swallowed and nodded mutely.

Angel continued, "Is it true that you signed something? In blood? A contract?"

"Yes." Connor's eyes darted distractedly up to the camera once more. "It was my choice to make."

Angel felt himself stiffen. Regardless of who was listening, he didn't like playing games. Ever since Connor had reappeared in this dimension, the vampire was constantly on a different wavelength, unable to read any of the signals his son was giving out. Did he want rescuing or not? From the way he kept looking at the camera, Angel got the impression that he did, but Connor had a way of giving out body signals to the contrary. Which was he supposed to take as truth? "Do you want me to negotiate some kind of release?"

Connor pulled himself upright in the chair. He didn't like being dependent on anyone, least of all his demon of a father. Before he could stop himself, he blurted out the familiar refrain, "I can look after myself."

Angel sighed, wearily. "I know that, Connor, but there's nothing wrong with accepting a little help every now and again. I just don't think you want to do this."

The boy visibly stiffened and Angel knew he had said just the wrong thing. If there was one thing certain to push Connor over the edge, it was telling him his own mind. "Why? Because you wouldn't do it yourself? Not all of us want to dedicate our lives to helping the helpless, you know! I've got to make a living somehow."

"Then get a job like an ordinary person, Connor! No one's telling you you've got to be a hero and join the team."

"But I'm not an ordinary person though, am I?! If I were, I'd be dead now. Do you have any idea how much money I've made with Fax?" Connor's eyes blazed with indignation.

"No, but I'm guessing it'll never buy your freedom. Connor, this might all seem like some great game right now, but think ahead. What's it going to be like in a year, ten years, thirty?"

"I won't be sticking around that long," Connor naively retorted.

Angel felt like shaking him. His son had absolutely no concept that there were people and creatures with more power than he did. "Connor, this is isn't some game that you get to quit when you've had enough! There are demons fighting here that are stronger and more dangerous than you. You've already been poisoned once, what's it going to take to make you realise you're not invincible!?"

"It's my life, I'll do whatever I want. You can't stop me! Just get out!"

"Connor, please! Listen to me, I'm your father!" Angel pleaded.

The teenager stood up angrily. "Since when has that meant anything? Your life's been nothing but one huge mess - one mistake after another! You screwed up your life so why should I listen to you?! All those people you killed, the ones you've hurt! You only help the helpless to try and make amends for something you can never repair. You only fight for good because you can't suppress the urge to hurt something, anything. You're a vampire, violence is in your nature. What gives you the right to come in here and tell me what I should do with my life?"

Angel stood his ground but he had lost all propensity for speech. If that was what Connor truly thought of him, perhaps he was better off alone. Angel couldn't help him. "Fine. You live your life, Connor. Get yourself mauled by some dumb demon while dirty money gets gambled for your life. I'm not coming to rescue you anymore." Suppressing any residual paternal emotion, Angel turned his back and left, slamming the door curtly behind him.

Connor remained fixed to the spot, staring at the place where his father had stood only a second ago. Then, he slowly sank to the floor, drawing his knees up to his chest. He'd done it this time. Now he was truly alone.

**********

"That's just great, Gunn. You just can't leave anything alone, can you?" Cordelia's brow was furrowed into a frown of annoyance and her arms were crossed stiffly in front of her. The more the group dispersed the more likely it was that something bad would happen to one of them.

"Just leave it, Cordy. It's man's business," he replied, curtly.

Cordelia rolled her eyes and gave him one of her looks. "Oh, please, you call yourself a man? That was the cheapest shot you could have used on him."

Fred had been sitting quietly in the sand, choosing to keep out of this particular argument. Her relationship with Gunn was already on the rocks and the fire of jealousy didn't need stoking, as much as she wanted to defend Wesley. Cordy was right to question the timing of Gunn's little confrontation but it was unlike Wesley to storm off after a slanging match with his co-worker. Was there something more to his sudden disappearance? She had retrieved the binoculars from the ground and tracked her friend's path all the way to the centre of the lingering crowds outside Hybridome. For a while Fred lost him in the bustle, but she soon found him again.

He was now striding purposely towards the door and Fred wondered if he was planning to follow Angel, but then he veered off to the right. He stopped short and appeared to be talking to someone with their back turned. Fred gasped inwardly when the figure turned around and revealed their identity. Her first instinct was to inform Gunn and Cordelia, but something stopped her. Fred couldn't deny that she had strange, unrequited feelings for the ex-Watcher and she had been disturbed and a little jealous of the bizarre, mysterious relationship between Wesley and Lilah Morgan. Ignoring the guilt of being so voyeuristic, Fred readjusted the focus of the binoculars and tried her hardest to make some sense of what they were saying. Lilah was her customary seductive self and, beneath his stiff stance, Fred could almost detect a physical lean towards the woman. She had seen enough. "Hey guys," Fred beckoned.

Cordy was happy to leave her altercation with Gunn alone for a while. "What is it?"

"Take a look at who came to the party." Fred handed the binoculars to her friend and pointed Cordelia in the right direction.

Cordelia's eyes settled on the two figures, now deep in conversation. "I wonder if she was invited."

"Who is it?" Charles asked, curiously.

"Lilah. What do you think she's doing here?" Fred asked.

Gunn shrugged, "I reckon she fits right in. I mean, Hybridome's not much different from the way Wolfram and Hart run their law firm. Maybe she's here to get tips."

"Well, she and Wes certainly seem to have a lot to say to each other," Cordelia noted, wryly.

"You don't think he's, you know..." Fred didn't want to finish that line of thought but Gunn was more than happy to.

"...working against us? Wouldn't put it past him."

Cordelia pulled the binoculars away from her eyes and whirled on him. "Yeah, well, I would. Has he got his cell phone?"

Fred pulled hers out and dialled Wesley's number and was surprised when the Englishman actually answered it. "Hello?"

"Wesley, what's going on?"

"I think I've just solved part of the hybrid monster mystery. It's a side project of Wolfram and Hart..." Wesley paused and Fred could hear him conversing with someone else in low tones. Suddenly, he said, "Listen, Angel's out. Stay where you are."

Fred asked, "Wait. Does he have Connor with him?" There was no answer just the empty sound of a dead connection.

**********

Wesley steered Angel towards a quieter corner where they were less likely to draw attention to themselves. "Angel, what's going on? Did you find Connor?"

Angel's jaw was drawn into a tight line and his eyes darted defiantly around the throngs still jostling near the entrance. "I found him but he didn't want to come. He's made his decision. He wants to stay."

Wesley tilted his head to one side in a pleading gesture. "Angel," he whined, "did you actually listen to him? Or did you go in there ready to argue?"

Angel tried to defend himself, "I just wanted to talk. I tried to be nice, I tried to help him but he just wouldn't have it. He practically threw me out, said he wanted control of his own life, that he wanted to make money."

"And you believed him? Angel, can't you see what's happening? He doesn't know how to ask for help. That's what you have to do...without him having to ask. You can't just leave him there."

Angel looked at Wesley, annoyance flaring in his dark eyes. "He doesn't want my help, Wes. Believe me."

Wesley tried another tack. "Angel, if you'd seen him before you arrived at my apartment, how weak and defenceless he was, you wouldn't be saying this. He needs you."

Angel shook his head, "But he didn't even want me to see him like that. You saw how he reacted as soon as I got close to him. He's better off on his own. I'm going home." Shoving his hands into his pockets, he prepared to make his way back to the open desert.

Wesley called, "That's a shame. Connor hasn't learned to swallow his pride yet and it's sad that his father can't even show him that example."

Angel halted and stood with his back to Wesley for a while, the slowly turned. "Fine, we'll stay for the fight and I'll talk to him afterwards. Are you happy now?"

Wesley managed a short smile. "I'll let the others know."

**********

Connor was still sitting where Angel had left him half an hour later. The cajoling of his fans outside the door had been tuned out long ago and his thoughts had become introverted again. He had taken a tour of the Hybridome earlier in the day, already unconvinced that this was the life for him. He knew a trap when he saw one. Fax could dress it up any way he wanted, but it always boiled down to the same thing - if there was a lock and a key, it was a prison. Connor had figured it out the moment he saw the expression on Wesley's face at his apartment. In his delirium, the teenager had no idea what he was signing but something about the look in the Englishman's eyes haunted him.

It was one thing fighting for ready cash at The Cage; he could walk out into the sunlight and what he did between sun up and sun down was nobody's business but his own. It was the way Connor had imagined his fighting life to be. Now, everything was looking a lot bleaker.

The teenager had checked out possible escape exits as he toured the building earlier but, unsurprisingly, the place was locked down tight. As one of his fellow inmates had pointed out, nothing was supposed to get in or out. The fighters he saw split into two neat categories - those who had fought, lived and were not ready to face death yet, and those who welcomed death as their only means of escape. The former were beefing themselves up, watching their diet and pulling weights while the latter simply sat, resigned, against the walls of the exercise room, unable or unwilling to push their bodies towards success.

When Connor had walked into a vast training room, every head turned to look him over. Fleetingly, Fax's words of warning about his own safety outside of his room made the teenager wary, but he soon realised why they were really sizing him up. Everyone, no matter what breed of demon, was a prisoner here, and they were simply checking out the competition. Connor never liked to be the centre of attention and today was no different. Still, what made him special wasn't visible from the outside. While he possessed muscles of a kind, they were mainly hidden from view beneath a baggy dark green shirt. Besides, his preternatural strength came from an invisible source. Even with a bit of fat on his lean body, Connor knew he would be able to take out most of the demons in the room.

Within a few moments, the demons returned to their own business and most gathered round the central boxing ring to catch a bit of the action going on there. Connor slipped towards a bench in the corner and sat down awkwardly beside some frightened looking Sylph demons. "Hey," he managed. The three demons nodded. Since he hadn't been spurned or poisoned with their sulphur yellow antlers, Connor took that as an invitation to continue. "How did you end up at Hybridome?"

The Sylph demons looked at one another as if they were conversing telepathically. "We were recruited."

"How does that happen?" Connor enquired, genuinely interested.

"Snatched from the streets and bars," came the metallic reply.

"Wow, you must have been good. Didn't you want to come?"

"No and no. We'll just be entertainment, something to get the crowds fired up."

Connor swallowed, suddenly wary of Fax's methods. "Is this your first fight?"

"First...and last. Do you like the look of Hybridome?" The Sylph's dark amber eyes surveyed the measly human with interest.

"It's okay, I guess. Clean enough, a bit dingy..."

"Well, you'd best get used to it. It's the only thing you're going to see until your dying day."

Connor chose not to pursue that conversation further. Now, back in his own room, on the rebound of his argument with Angel, the teenager knew Wesley had been right to worry about Fax's contract. It was a death warrant. Connor cursed himself for getting so angry, then cursed his father for not understanding that he wanted to be free and for not helping him. Now his only source of hope was probably halfway across the desert heading for the bright lights of Los Angeles and Angel Investigations.

Connor screwed his eyes up tight, trying to imagine himself anywhere but in this claustrophobic changing room. He had been hustled from one room to another after he had returned from the tour of Hybridome. Every corner was monitored by camera, every exit guarded by magicians or shamans with spells at their fingertips which no one could counter unprepared. Connor was well and truly trapped.

He wracked his brains for some idea which would lift him out of this place. He couldn't keep fighting, he didn't want to keep fighting. For the first time in his life, he wanted nothing more than to be alone and peaceful. The prospect of plunging his fist into one demon after another brought him no joy.

Then it hit him. Even in his limited time in this dimension, Connor had learned a thing or two about popular culture, educating himself with the likes of 'West Side Story'. It had been likened to an old play called 'Romeo and Juliet'. The play had been a complete wash-out in comparison to the modern movie and the teenager had understood about every fourth word. One bit he had quite liked was the way Juliet faked her death; it was a pretty novel way to get out of marriage. He might not have a convenient friar with a convenient vial of poison or an antidote but Connor could think of a few, albeit painful, ways of getting out of Hybridome. He just prayed it didn't go wrong.

**********

END OF PART 12

Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. I'm sorry to any Gunn, Fred & Cordy fans. I know they get quite short shrift in this story and Gunn has been rather stereotyped but I suppose every writer has favourites to write for. Please, please let me know what you think & I'll try to post the next instalment soon.