Title: The Next Mission
Notes: Written by WayWard Childe, Flashback Edited By Hieiko.
Interlude II: Children of a Prodigal Father (Beneath my fist life crumbles)
Connor's going into automatic again and he knows it. He does this every time he has to deal with news he doesn't want to hear. Except this time no ones here to catch his fall.
When problems happen, problems he can't deal with, he becomes that machine. That same machine from Qourtoh that can't hear anything but the hard pats and thuds of his fist against undead flesh. The swirl of air is the second thing he hears as he spins to the right, and pulls out a stake to jams into the monsters heart. Dust. That's all that's left and yet it doesn't make it easier, cause right now Oz is in the hospital.
Oz was fighting a big beast and now he's in the hospital, which means tonight he almost lost a member of his new family. Like he lost his old family.
The night feels familiar to Connor; it's just like that one night. The night where he once again become his monster, the night where destruction was all that was known. The night of his father's funeral.
-Flashback- (the night of Angel, Fred, Gunn, and Wesley's Funerals.)
CONNOR'S POV
I can't stop; I've been going on like this for hours. Punch. Block. Kick. Stake. Repeat. I do this 'til my knuckles bleed, the red liquid seeping from my skin mingling with the blood of things that just got in my way. Because it's THEIR fault! Their fault that he's gone, gone AGAIN, gone before I...
A demon interrupts my battle so I slam him into a wall and twist his arm off. Blood pours, and the thing screams that I'm a monster. ME! But he's one of THEM, the things that took him, and the others, my family, my friends, my enemies, my dreams that never existed yet existed all the same. So I punch the demon, telling him that he's the monster, that he's nothing, and I revel in it. I remember Quortoth and all the things I had needed to do to survive. I remember being tied to a tree when I was five. I remember Angel, no, Dad, telling me that wasn't right; I remember that he was sincere and that he loved me and I...
The demon's gone but now it's the wall's fault, right? It must be this alleyway wall's fault. Why else would I be punching it? Why else would I be weeping and letting my knuckles rip and tear. Why did he have to leave again? I'm alone and I never got to tell him how sorry I was, that I wish I could take back all the pain I had caused. Never got to be friends with those who willingly gave me friendship. Never got to have my true family... only hell, pain, and LIES. The walls are crumbling, turning to dust beneath my fists. That's when I feel cold, strong arms surround me. They feel like my father's, but I know they're not. They feel like the arms of someone who cares, and I know he does.
"Why?" I ask, weeping into his shoulder, and holding on tight 'cause I can't lose something else before I even know it.
"I don't know," he replies, voice thick with tears and laced with pain.
"Why did he leave us again?" I ask, sounding like a scared child for perhaps the first time in my life.
"Because it's what he does, he leaves you and abandons you, but never means to."
"What will we do?" I ask, seeking guidance.
I can tell that he's shocked. No one probably goes to him for help or seeks his guidance; no one ever made him a leader. After a moment, having recovered from the shock and awe of being put into the role, he finally steps up.
"We fight, we live, and we make him proud. And we become what he said we were. We become Champions."
I nod. He's right. That's what we must do, what we must become. For him, for Fred, Cordelia, Gunn, Wesley, and Lorne.
We will be Champions.
We will make them proud.
We will save the world.
-End Flashback-
Connor finds himself walking in a familiar graveyard. On one side is Grandpa Marty, but he's not really his Grandpa, just made up memories. On the other side is his real family, so that's where he goes, repeating the mantra in his head of 'We will be Champions. We will make them proud. We will save the world.' Repeating it over and over, because sometimes that's all that keeps him together. He finally gets there, and he's not sure what to feel at first, but as soon as he gazes on the tombstones. It's guilt, he feels guilt and he knows he should.
Gunn and Fred took care of him, they loved him and he turned on them. Wesley well him and Wesley were never close, but he did rat him out along with the rest to Jasmine. Jasmine his twisted ebony daughter who was actually the reason for his existence. Created by his love for the woman who played mother to him. Connor shakes his head sadly, Cordelia his first love, his worse mistake.
Connor falls to his knees and rubs his hands down his face. 'Oh God' Connor groans in his mind, 'everything I love dies. If I'm supposed to be a champion then why can't I save anybody!' Connor screams in his mind. Connor slams his fist into the ground just in front of Angel's grave. Just like the wall before, parts of the ground crumble beneath his fist. His eyes are confused and angry, sad and tired, as he wearily raises his head and looks at the tombstone.
"Can I do this? can I be a Champion?" Connor asks the tombstone, hoping his father will somehow answer.
There is no reply. No strong arms, no wise words. Connor is met with silence and it speaks volumes.
TBC…
BAKAMAN: Ok, the order of Aurelius is in fact, trying to stop the thing worse then an apocalypse.
I would like to thank the rest of you for your kind reviews.
