THE LABOUR AND THE WOUNDS
By Allegra
(See Part 1 for disclaimers etc.)
Author's Note: I have no right to expect anyone to still be interesting in reading this story after being neglected for so long. However, if there are any loyal readers – thank you very, very much for your patience, your reviews & your encouragement. I hope this (albeit short) chapter goes some way to appease you!! Enjoy!
PART 13
Connor was at a loss for what to do. Normally, he would spend the time leading to the fight limbering up and warming his muscles. He rarely, if ever, signed something for a fan. There was something truly abhorrent about the desperate mewling of demons and humans alike wanting his scribblings. Besides, Connor had rarely found the need to sign his name and he was especially wary of pieces of paper thrown under his nose when he didn't have time to read them. Ironically, it was Fax who had warned the teenager about the dangers of signing autographs. He had told a particularly chilling story about one fighter who had unwittingly sold his skin to an illegal salesman and was found the next morning skinned alive. He had gone into deep shock and didn't survive long, just long enough to feel unbelievable agony and teach future fighters a sobering lesson.
It felt like time had almost come to a stand still as Connor waited for one of the establishment's bodyguards to come and fetch him from his room. In the meantime, the boy was left trying to psych himself up for throwing his fight. It was not in his nature to do such a thing; in fact, every fibre of his body fought against it with natural urges. It was going to take considerable will power to override the genetic desire to defend himself and harm anyone who barred his way. Connor honed his mind and fighting skills, reminding himself consciously over and over that this was the only way to get himself out of there.
Finally, the time came. Scuffles could be heard outside his door as the queue of fans cut their losses and headed back in the direction of the central arena. Connor could feel his heart beating stridently in his chest and he felt more nervous than he ever had before. The prospect of winning by losing filled him with more worry than any previous fight had. The teenager moved towards the dressing room mirror and sat down, momentarily catching sight of his own reflection. The face that stared back at him almost startled him.
He had rarely had the opportunity or inclination to examine his own features in a mirror but, suddenly, Connor was fascinated by what he saw reflected back. His face was pale and pinched, his jaw tensed into a harsh line. Green eyes flecked with brown stared challengingly back at him, defying his decision to fail in the ring. Connor searched the face with strange fascination. He found himself moving like a child trying to catch himself out but, of course, the reflection followed his every move perfectly. The teenager sought to find some resemblance to the man he was supposed to call 'father', some sign that perhaps Darla had been mistaken, that he was not Angel's son.
A sharp knock at the door startled him and Connor stood up quickly. "Yeah. I'm ready." He took a couple more deep breaths then opened the door and stepped into the corridor. A burly bodyguard grunted acknowledgement then moved ahead of Connor back towards the staff entrance to the Hybridome arena.
"Are you sure about this?" Cordelia asked, uncertainty in her voice. The crowds were dispersing rapidly outside Hybridome now. The groups had either purchased their tickets and were entering the arena or they had given up on getting in and were making their way back to whatever hole they had crawled out of. Cordelia didn't like the idea of walking straight into a demon infested, magically guarded 'fight-to-the-death' stadium, but she had been sadly outnumbered. Even Fred had thought it better that they join Wesley and Angel rather than return home or wait all night in the cold desert.
"We're never sure, Cordy. That's why these little trips are always so much fun. You never know what's going to happen next," Gunn noted, dryly. He caught sight of Wesley near the entrance and waved boldly to him. The Englishman did not respond. He could see them clearly but he didn't feel the need to draw lots of unnecessary attention to himself with ridiculous hand greetings. He considered it quite typical that Gunn wouldn't give that a moment's thought.
"Where's Angel?" Cordelia instantly asked.
"He's already inside, getting some seats. Here are your tickets." Wesley handed the small rectangles of card out to his friends.
Fred pulled a face at the graphic fighting picture printed on it. "How did you get hold of these so quickly? From the look of it, plenty of folk went away empty handed."
Wesley steered them towards the door, his eyes darting around for any signs of danger. "Oh, everyone has their price. It looks like Cordelia will have to find us some more paying clients soon though."
Cordelia rolled her eyes, "Figures."
Inside, the dome was buzzing with tense excitement. Demons and humans alike had staked plenty of money on who would win tonight's fight. From the sounds of it, Connor had more than his fair share of interest and Angel couldn't help feeling a moment's fatherly pride towards his son before anxiety and anger set back in once more. Connor had a lot of lessons to learn in plenty of other departments, fighting shouldn't be considered the best skill in the world even if it was pretty useful in their line of business. Yet, the knowledge that his son was exceptional in this dome full of hundreds of demon species was something worthy in itself.
Angel moved swiftly through the crowds to his seat, hoping to go unnoticed. He wasn't sure what sort of game this Fax Torrance was playing but he never would have let the notorious vampire inside the dome unless he knew how to keep him at bay. His momentary anger and frustrated dismissal of Connor and his predicament gone now, Angel knew he could not leave Hybridome without his son. Fighting the demon bodyguards and dome bouncers would be difficult enough, but dragging a reluctant teenager with him would be an almost insurmountable task. Connor's strength was a good match for Angel and the vampire cursed himself for handling their last conversation so poorly. If only he had checked his short temper, Connor might be working with him right now, not against him.
Angel's mind raced with each possible course of action. He rounded up his friends in his head, placing them strategically throughout his plan but none seemed airtight. All involved too much risk. It was in this mode of deep thought that Cordelia found him. "Hey there, big guy," she said, barely looking at him. She leaned over the edge of the balcony rail immediately in front of them. "Geez, I wish I'd had seats like these when I saw Kenny G." She turned to Angel just in time to catch a quizzical expression. "Hey, I was kidding. You're supposed to laugh or at least acknowledge that I wouldn't be seen dead at a Kenny G concert. Of course, that might actually happen after this place." Cordy stopped her babbling for a moment, perturbed by Angel's taciturnity. She leaned back in her seat, trying to block out the plethora of ugly and dangerous looking creatures moving around them to their seats. "Angel, what is it? Did you speak to Connor?"
The vampire nodded, finally shifting his black gaze from their fixed spot to Cordelia. "He hates me...as usual."
"I'm sure that's not true. He's just confused. He doesn't know who or what he wants." Cordelia was running out of ways to reassure Angel that he hadn't repelled his son forever. Every time she spoke to him, he had said or done something to upset Connor again.
"I can't leave him here, Cordy."
"So we won't." Cordelia fixed Angel with her firmest stare. She knew he hated putting her in danger but the whole group cared for Connor, too. Despite his belligerent teenaged behaviour of late, they had all held him in their arms mere months ago as a baby. To Cordy, Wesley and the others, he was an innocent who knew little of the world. Connor was reacting like an abused child, trading honesty and care for anger and distance. Knowing that only made their love for him stronger. He needed to be warmed to the pleasures of this world, to lose some of the cold chill he clung to. "Angel, don't even start," Cordelia chided when Angel opened his mouth to protest. "We didn't come here just to watch a fight. We all came because we wanted to help, because we thought we'd get out hands dirty. You need us, so don't try to say you can do it alone."
"Thank you."
The betting booths closed and everyone was warned to take their seats. To the group's surprise, the seated area above the ring was fairly empty. It appeared that most demons lusted after the intimacy and physical jostling of the circle, directly beside the action. Burly bodyguards with tough, rock-like skin were peppered by every exit and within reasonable distance of the hordes, prepared to dive in and break up any fights. Clearly, Hybridome took a harder line on the behaviour of its clientele. This was no seedy bar, order would be maintained at any cost. For most of the demons assembled, there would be no loved ones to note their absence should a bodyguard get carried away. These creatures were not be messed with.
Wesley, Gunn and Fred took their seats mutely beside Angel and Cordelia. Gunn seemed fairly indifferent to the potential dangers of the situation, looking more like he was at a World Wrestling Federation match. Fred was visibly nervous, her eyes darting around the scene, checking that no untoward demons were likely to sit beside her. Wesley's face was a mask of grimness.
There had been a time when his expression would have been similar to Fred's - nervous naivete, yet to experience the true desolation this life one day afforded all of them. Slowly, the horrors which had consumed Angel were taking hold of his companions; Wesley was simply the first to lose the battle. Each and every one of the team had been forced to wrestle with unbelievable and life altering events. Everyone bore a scarred heart but at least they had each other. Wesley had even lost that. The scar on his throat was losing its rosy hue but it was ever visible, just like the pain it represented. Ironically, the child he had once fought so hard to save from death at that hands of his own father was about to watch the same fate clutch at Connor again. Yet, this time he was a helpless spectator.
Gradually, the house lights dimmed to be replaced with the bright white light of the ring. A deep, rasping voice boomed across the auditorium - "Hybridome welcomes you. Money has changed hands, lives have been marked. For some, the fiery depths of hell await them, whether it be a quick journey or a tortured one. For others, victory and a hefty pay cheque awaits. Let the wheel of fortune spin and let the games begin!"
Another voice followed, quieter and more melodic. "Spectators are reminded that touching the contenders is forbidden, throwing items, brawling or general violence. Bouncers are posted at every exit and throughout the building to dispose of anyone seen violating the rules of Hybridome. On behalf of all the staff, we hope you enjoy your evening."
The last babble amongst the audience died down as the ring lights dimmed and returned, launching into a spectrum of colours. Shapes could be seen moving into the centre and it a took a moment for Angel's eyes to adjust to what they were. His heart thumped in his chest, afraid to recognise the shadowy forms limbering up there. He felt his body's tension release momentarily when he realised this was just the opening act - two Sylph demons. They danced like fools around the ring, riling the crowds with their ridiculous behaviour. Abuse was hurled at them and then the roar mounted tenfold as a lurching figure emerged from the centre of the floor. It was a huge creature which Angel could not recall coming across before with talons and teeth the size of a grown man's arm. Its skin was wrinkly and thick like an elephant's but it had eyes of pure coal - hard and dull. It swept around the ring, putting on a show for a moment or two as the Sylphs panicked and clung to the bars, desperately trying to escape their inevitable fate.
The demon caught hold of one poor creature by it's antler, slamming it hard to the floor of the ring, rattling the bars. Like a fly, he squashed it under one bony foot, green blood spurting from the Sylph's mouth. The pressure increased as the victim's cries squealed from its mouth. The demon moved his foot marginally up the Sylph's chest, abruptly terminating the sound and popping an eyeball from it's socket.
Fred looked away, unable to endure the suffering, even in a Sylph demon. She refused to witness the demise of the second creature which had already watched its friend cruelly tortured and murdered. Even with her eyes squeezed shut, it was audible that the antlers were torn the Sylph's head and used to bludgeon it to death.
The crowd cheered, the first drops of blood only bringing the sharks closer for the main course. Cordelia turned to glance at Angel, barely able to control the urge to vomit. It made her sick to her stomach to think this bloody show was intended to be a warm up for what was to come, for Connor. Angel's jaw was set tight and, to the casual observer, appeared indifferent to the carnage below. Yet, to one practised in the art of reading a vampire's mind, Cordelia recognised every nuance in his stance. She knew that if Angel were human, she'd be able to see the whitening of his knuckles.
Screams and cat calls filled the room during the rest of the warm up as several more helpless creatures were thrown to their deaths by various hideous means - disembowelled, dismembered, crushed, beaten, mutilated and tortured for kicks. By the time the main attraction was announced and the contenders' achievements described while the ring was cleaned, it was all Cordelia could do to sit still.
The first contender was called, his statistics flashed up onto the large plasma screens placed around the arena. The huge, hulking creature was led through a gap in the crowds, giving spectators a chance to see him at close quarters. All interest in weighing up Connor's chances were gone from Angel's brain suddenly. He didn't need to wait for the commentator to announce him; he could feel his son's presence, perhaps even a little fear. Now was the time and Angel prayed for Connor's wellbeing. He thought he had weathered the worst of his relationship with his son, but clearly it was just the beginning of the heartache.
END OF PART 13
