CHAPTER THREE

Trying to find a way to spend the day and not get angrier at Angel, Buffy spent a good deal of time on the phone with Giles, making sure to relay Shea's request for a visit from him. The Slayer was fairly sure Giles was ready to burst with curiosity about the son of two vampires and probably already would have been in Galway if his duties weren't keeping him so busy. She also killed time talking to both Faith and Willow to get an idea of what Connor was like and decided to be 'less-bitchy-Buffy' and not lay into them for keeping her in the dark.

Stubborn, sullen, broody, head strong, inherited sneer, too strong to be a boy, Slayer strong, androgynous; Faith would have suggested checking downstairs to make sure he was a boy if not for the hormone dance he had done around her. Buffy wondered if Angel had a clue that Connor had been attracted to Faith during those days they were trying to bring back the vampire's soul. Should she tell him? He might not want to know. Would she have even liked Connor had she known him? Buffy wasn't sure.

She contemplated calling Wesley and finding out what he thought of Connor but then she would have to talk to Spike. The last time they spoke on the phone had been oddly uncomfortable. Buffy wished Angel would come home but he was probably somewhere underground being stubborn, sullen, and broody and she didn't feel like chasing through the Irish sewers looking for him. Finally she went downstairs to see if Shea needed help with dinner.

The Watcher looked up from where she was adding Irish whiskey to a cake mix, hearing Buffy's inquiry. "I've got this. Just need to make the cake a wee bit drunk. Do you like caramel apple cake?"

Buffy's eyes lit up at the word 'caramel.' "I've never had it but it sounds delicious."

"You're not allergic to nuts are you?"

Buffy shook her head. "No allergies."

"Good." Shea started chopping apples. "Why don't you go sit with Connor? He gets fussy if he's alone too long."

Buffy knew a dismissal when she heard one. "Sure, I can do that."

Buffy was less than sure of that really. She had sat one too many bedside vigils and she had grown to hate them. Still, she felt sorry for the boy, trapped in the room alone, trapped inside himself with no one knowing how to reach him. She half hoped he'd be asleep when she went in but he wasn't. Buffy smiled at him as she sat down next to the bed.

"Just me again. Are you feeling a little better? I know how terrible anesthesia can make you feel, like you might start puking and never stop. Your dad doesn't get that since he's never had that done to him." Buffy said. "Do you feel like talking?"

He looked at her, shifting on the bed so his cheek rested against a stuffed bear someone had tucked in with him. At least he was more mobile now that the fixators in his legs were gone.

"I guess that's a no. I'm going to sound real strange just babbling to myself." She grinned.

Connor reached over the bars of the hospital bed, pawing at the night stand. His fingers brushed the novel resting there.

"Oh, you want me to read?" She touched the Potter book and Connor smiled. Buffy felt her heart lift. "Look at that. You can smile. I couldn't tell with that horrible thing they had helping you breathe. I bet you feel a lot better now that that thing's gone."

Connor rolled onto his back, giving her an expectant look.

Buffy had to tell Angel about this, Shea, too. Maybe this was normal for him but Connor seemed more animated to her. She had no doubt he was communicating with her. Maybe there was some brain damage and this would be all the better he got but she hoped not. Even at this, she knew Connor was aware enough to follow what she was saying and Angel needed to know that.

She read to him until Shea came in. Buffy smiled at the Watcher. "I think I've got a new friend." She nodded at Connor.

Shea laughed. "He does like to be read to, don't you?"

Connor looked over at the nurse.

"How about some more water? I know you must be happy to be able to have some water after so long." Shea reached past Buffy and poured a little water into a cup filled with sticks. Buffy saw there was a star-like sponge on the end of the sticks. Shea put one of them in Connor's mouth swishing it around. He caught it in his teeth, sucking at the sponge. Shea's freckled face lit up. "There's a boy. That feels good, doesn't it?" Shea traded him sponges, tossing the used one. Connor sucked greedily at the fresh sponge. "If you do good with these, the doctor said we can give you ice chips starting tomorrow. I'm betting you'll like those, my wee man. It's time for Connor's supper, Buffy. I'm not sure if you want to stay for that."

"Does he mind?" Buffy asked Shea then looked at Connor, "Do you? I can go but I'd like to stay and maybe we can read a little more afterwards if Shea doesn't need me downstairs."

Connor just looked at her.

Buffy glanced over at Shea. "Is that an okay?"

Shea nodded. "Connor will let you know when he doesn't like something. He does tend to hit a little when he gets mad. Now, he doesn't like what I'm going to do next but we have an understanding, don't we, Connor? I don't mean to hurt him and he doesn't try to hit me for this."

Buffy's eyes widened, not sure what Shea was talking about. "Is it something I can help with? I mean, I can take a hit a little better than you."

"Connor's healing abilities try to reject the feeding tube so we need to wiggle it a bit. It keeps the wound a little raw but it keeps it from closing off," Shea said.

"That has to hurt," Buffy whispered, trying to imagine what Shea was talking about.

"It does." Shea pulled on latex gloves and folded the bedding down, tucking it around Connor's narrow hips. She tugged up his shirt and Buffy tried not to stare. She hadn't been prepared, even with what Shea had said, for the tube that punctured Connor's abdomen. The flesh around it was red and angry-looking. Shea took the tube in hand and twisted it.

Connor's fists balled up in the sheets and he moaned loudly. Buffy covered her mouth, looking on in horror. This was something you did to torture people. Shea stroked Connor's side.

"I know, little one. It hurts. That's it. I'm done. At least we don't have to do the leg-thing any more. That's a little less pain for you." Shea gestured to the dresser. "Buffy, could you get me a can of the food?"

Buffy did and stood beside the bed as Shea opened it and started pouring it into the tube. Buffy turned so she could look at Connor's face, trying not to even think about what the 'leg-thing' was. She took his hand, surprised as he squeezed her fingers. There was understanding in his eyes, grief. She stroked his hair with her free hand. "Shea, does this hurt him? He's squeezing hard."

"I'm not sure he knows how strong he is some days," Shea replied. "This part doesn't hurt. At least now I no longer have to turn the knobs on the fixators to stretch the bone so he won't have to endure that pain. The fractures were so bad the bones crushed down and needed pulled back into shape."

Buffy shuddered. That must have been the 'leg thing.' She didn't want to dwell on how much that had to hurt.

"And hopefully if he tolerates the ice chips, we'll move to feeding him this liquid sludge by mouth. I can't promise it'll taste like chocolate though, Connor, no matter what it says on the can." Shea smiled at him.

"And then the tube comes out?" Buffy asked sharply.

"Then the tube comes out." Shea said as the front door opened downstairs.

"Mum! We're home."

"I'm upstairs, boys. Go make yourselves comfortable. I'll be down," Shea called. "Want to meet the boys, Buffy?"

"Of course." She patted Connor's shoulder. "But I'll come back and finish reading to you."

He smiled at her again. Buffy looked at Shea as if to say 'see that.' She followed Shea downstairs. Shea's sons were friendly and funny. After reading Harry Potter to Connor, Buffy couldn't help but think George and Fred Weasley when she talked to Ryan and Scully. The twins had reddish brown hair as opposed to carrot but they were almost impossible to tell apart. The fact they were both studying magic didn't help the image any. Buffy went back upstairs to let the boys visit with their mom in private.

She read to Connor more until Shea called her down to dinner. Buffy got downstairs in time to see Shea dumping a Guinness into a bowl of mussels. She had to watch the others for a moment to figure out how to eat the slimy things. She wasn't used to sucking things out of inky shells and if she thought about what they were, she probably couldn't have swallowed them down. That consideration aside, they were tasty. Buffy almost excused herself on some flimsy excuse when she heard that dinner was cod pie. The name alone scared her but the fish hidden under mashed potatoes wasn't too bad and the caramel apple cake, with whiskey whipped cream, was worth hanging around for.

"Mom, we're going to go watch The X-Men with Connor, okay?" Ryan said, or was it Scully? Buffy had no idea. "We thought it would be nice to spend time and you said he likes that movie."

"Of course. All the hardware is gone, just so you know. Be sure to talk to him and if Connor wants water, use the sponges. You've seen me do it before with other patients," Shea said. "Ask if he's thirsty."

"Is he talking?" Scully-Ryan asked.

"Not yet but if he says something, let us know," Shea said.

"Will do."

The boys raced upstairs. Buffy helped Shea clear the table.

"Those boys, you'd think they get tired of that movie by now," Shea said, wagging her head ruefully.

"Seen it a hundred times?" Buffy guessed.

The Watcher nodded. "Always arguing back and forth which of them is going to sleep with Anna Pacquin some day. I just tell them I don't care so long as I get Hugh Jackman."

Buffy laughed. "I might have to fight you for him."

Shea grinned. "Time to break out the bag of tricks then if I'm going up against the Slayer"

"Shea," Buffy said, turning serious. "Connor really does know what's going on, doesn't he? I mean he reached right over and hit the book when I went up there. He settled down when I started reading."

"I think he's in there hiding inside himself. I think it hurts too much to come all the way out into this world," Shea said, starting the dishwater.

"Angel's giving up too soon," Buffy said, defeated.

Shea shook her head. "He hasn't given up. He just expects too much too soon." She glanced out the window. "You'd think he'd be back by now."

"I'll go look for him," Buffy said, "unless you need me to do dishes or something."

"Go. The boys will be occupied for the next few hours. I'll get the dishes. Start with the pubs. If you're lucky, he's not in the nastiest places. Sometimes he get all nostalgic and goes to the King's Head."

Buffy wrinkled her nose. "Nostalgic?"

"The King's Head's been a pub since 1649," Shea said. "Angel used to go there as a young man. He likes the Blind Cat, too."

"Another place he spent his youth?" Buffy guessed.

"Aye."

Buffy sighed. "At least it's a place to start."

Buffy simply started checking the pubs closest to the house in Salthill and worked her way towards Eyre Square, the one place in town she figured she might be able to find in the dark. There was something creepy and off-putting about the narrow, and occasionally medieval, streets at night. Maybe she had grown too used to the openness of the Sunnydale avenues. She would hate to get in a fight in Kirwan Lane. There was no room to maneuver.

Buffy got a bit turned around in the heart of Galway City, after not finding Angel in any of the Salthill pubs. She spotted St. Nicholas' church and knew there was a graveyard not far away; Slayer force of habit, memorize where the cemeteries were. She headed that way figuring she might as well do her duty while she was searching for a presumably drunk Angel. She only found one vampire in the cemetery and didn't have the heart to stake him even though she thought maybe he had totally lost it since he was sitting on the grass, talking to the headstones.

"I just don't know what to do. Sometimes I think I should send him on to be with you, Kathy."

"That would probably be a mistake," Buffy said and Angel twisted on the grass, looking up at her, startled. "You're giving up way too soon, Angel. Connor's not a lost cause."

Angel turned from her, looking back at the headstones, crooked and cracked with age. Buffy sat next to him, putting a hand on his back. He didn't look up from the stone that simply read "Kathy, beloved daughter, taken too soon."

"Angel, I know this is hard...so hard I can hardly grasp it because I don't have children." She paused for a moment and thought about how to say what she wanted to without sounding pretentious. "But I know what I felt like when Mom was dying of a brain tumor, how helpless I was while she was lying in that bed shrieking at things her sick mind was hallucinating. Sometimes I did just want it to end and I've never said that to another living soul before." Buffy caressed his shoulders, and he wouldn't look at her.

"Sometimes I just couldn't go back to the house, even though I knew that I was leaving poor Dawn in there alone with Mom. There are times I think Riley did more for my sister than I did and I hate myself for it. I couldn't accept I wasn't able to help Mom, that some things are out of my control." She felt so cold insider, revisiting that pain.

"But you didn't bargain with mystical doctors to put your mother back together," he said so softly Buffy almost missed it.

"No, but I bargained with regular doctors to save her," Buffy said, shifting on the grave she sat atop, her right buttocks sinking into a square stone-buttressed hole over the plot. "And in the end, even when we thought it was going to be all right, it wasn't. But the thing is, we never gave up, no matter how hard it was. And I know that Connor isn't beyond hope."

He turned and looked at her. "What makes you so sure?"

Buffy shifted again, leaning on the headstone to get away from the hole. "Because of what he did when he got home and slept off all the anesthesia, which by the way makes you really sick, just in case you didn't know. I doubt even I would have said anything to you fresh out of surgery." She gave him an angry look. "I went up to talk to him. Connor knew what I wanted, Angel. You could see it in his eyes. He's aware of what's going on and he deflected me by having me read to him."

Angel's fingers tore at the grass. "In other words you went up there, he stared at you and you figured it was easier to read to him than deal with that."

Buffy shoved him hard. "No, I mean he reached over the edge of the bed and slapped the book when I asked him to talk to me then he settled down waiting for me to do it."

Angel stared at her as if he didn't believe her, as if she had come looking for him just to lie to him, to tear out his heart for all the past wrongs he had done. "He did?" His voice was so tight Buffy could barely recognize it. "He can't even move."

She took his hand, leaning forward a bit. "He did. Don't give up yet, Angel. And of course he wasn't moving much before. How could he with all that metal in him and that thing down his throat?"

Angel made a strange noise. It took Buffy a moment to realize he was choking back a sob. His huge hands covered his face as he crumpled. She caught Angel, dragging him against her. His weight crushed her against the headstone. She stuck a heel in the square hole and maneuvered herself better so the engraved lettering of the grave bruised her less.

She remembered the last time she and Angel had been in a cemetery. It had been her crying uncontrollably over her mother's grave and Angel had been holding her. Now the situation was reversed, but he had the luxury of the hope Connor could get well. It felt awkward holding him, his tears trickling down her neck but the awkwardness was purely physical, her slight frame trying to hold him up. It had been a long time since she thought about how big Angel really was. Emotionally, being here to comfort him felt perfect, felt totally right, nothing awkward about it. She soothed his back and hair, rocking him, ignoring the sharp pain in her back from the tombstone.

Finally Angel sank from her grasp and spilled out onto the grass next to her. He wiped his face. "Sorry."

She reached down and ran a hand through his thick, stiff hair. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

"I thought when I came to see my family last time...that I was getting better." Angel's hands raised then flopped back down impotently. "I thought I could handle this."

"And you got your hopes dashed today. I understand that." Buffy sat up, rubbing the small of her back. "You just have to be patient, which I know isn't always your strong suit."

He gave out a choking laugh. "Not always."

Buffy thought maybe distracting him from his pain was the best way to go. "Do you remember the last time we just held onto each other? It was a cemetery like this."

"You told me to stay with you forever," he said softly, rolling onto his side so he could look at her. "I'm still sorry about your mom."

"Thanks. Only last time it was you getting words imprinted on your back from a headstone...or was there a tree there? I can't remember." Buffy tried to pull up the memory but all she had was pain and the warmth of his embrace. "Now I'm going to have the name..." She twisted and saw the words "Liam, beloved son 1727-1753." She spun back around. "Oh my god, is this your grave?"

"Mine. Kathy's, Mother and Father." Angel pointed them out in turn.

"Okay, you know this is uber-creepy right? I mean, I had my very own grave, too, but I never had an urge to hang out on top of it." Buffy shuddered.

"I was talking to my sister," he said as if that made perfect sense.

"You were twenty-six," she said, tracing the words with a finger. Had he even told her that? She couldn't remember.

"With the maturity of a fifteen year old," he said bitterly.

"What is this thing?" She thumped her heel on the square.

Angel sat up. "A vampire-staking hole. They suspected it was me stalking around the town slaughtering people, even though Darla made me replace the dirt so we could go undetected for a while. It didn't fool anyone since we killed too blatantly here, too soon after my death. Back then they believed that a vampire had to go back to his grave in the day."

"So they built a way to stake you safely in the day while you slept." Buffy leaned forward and cupped her hands over the stake shaft. "It's smart, only they didn't have it right. You didn't need native earth and all that junk."

"Unfortunately for them, no." Angel put his hands on Kathy's headstone. "I regret many of the deaths I delivered but none more than hers."

Buffy moved to sit next to him. "Your sister."

"She thought I was an angel...that's where Darla got my name." He made a face. "It seemed so funny at the time. Now I wonder why I even keep the name?"

"I guess after nearly three hundred years, it would be hard to change it now." Buffy covered his hand with hers, squeezing lightly. "You can't change what you did."

"I know." Angel's face twisted into a mask of pain. "But if she's listening, I wanted her to know about her nephew, so I've been coming here the last few nights to tell her about him."

Buffy looked over at the largest of the headstone, seeing something curious. It was engraved with a crest with cross on it with a sun to one side and a crescent moon to the other . A wavy star graced the top of the shield. "What is that?"

"Our family crest. How ironic is it that my crest has a cross and a sun?" Angel said sardonically.

"Martyn? Your name is Liam Martyn?" She smiled, trying not to laugh. "I'm sorry. It's not funny but I just...I wasn't expecting something so... I don't know."

"You were expecting something more 'top o' the mornin' to ye' like O'Brien or O'Reilly." He grinned, his accent finally fitting his heritage.

She shrugged. "Yeah, I guess."

"My father was a merchant, an important one." Angel touched the sun on the crest. "We were one of the fourteen tribes of Galway."

"I've heard of them." Buffy shrugged. "I mean you can't walk around here and not see stuff about them."

Angel nodded. "Kirwan Lane, Lynch Castle. If you look around, you'll see Martyn family crests."

"So, you were like royalty, only not?" Buffy asked, liking the lightening of his mood.

He smiled faintly. "Sort of."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I guess. You're distracting me from my misery and I thank you for it." He touched her cheek. "And I'm sorry I squashed you against the headstone."

"It's okay. Do you want to go back? Shea was a little worried."

"Shea knows how I can get." Angel got up and held out a hand to Buffy. "I'm not ready to go back. I know that sounds awful but I need a break."

"I just got through telling you how I felt with Mom. Trust me, Angel. I know how you feel." Buffy dusted off her pants. "Want me to call Shea? The boys were watching The X-Men with Connor."

Angel's eyebrows raised at that. "Well, I think Connor likes that movie. He seems to pay attention to it."

"Once Connor's feeling better, he'll be giving the twins a run for their money when it comes to competing for Rogue." Buffy tried to look encouraging.

Angel shook his head. "Jean Grey. Connor seems to like them older...or maybe it was just Cordy he liked." A shadow fell over his face and Buffy reached for his hand again.

She pulled him against her hip. "I'll call Shea and tell her I found you. Where do you want to go?"

"I was going to go to the Blind Cat."

Buffy smiled. "Shea suggested I look for you there or the King's Head."

"The Blind Cat's closer. I probably shouldn't go there so much but I do."

Buffy made her call and followed Angel to the bar. He paused looking down the street, a strange look on his face. Buffy wore one as well but it was more from disappointment that the bar wasn't some old building with a thatched roof and low ceilings like Hollywood had conditioned her to expect. Maybe the Blind Cat had been that once upon a time but now Galway City had grown up around it, swallowing it whole. It was part of row of storefronts.

The inside was low-ceilinged and crammed with smoke-darkened wood, far more like she was expecting. Old tobacco smoke seemed to ooze from the walls. It wasn't overly crowded, mostly older men who looked at her curiously as Angel made his way to the bar.

"The usual?" the bartender asked and Angel nodded.

The vampire looked down at Buffy. "What would you like?"

Buffy figured she'd make no friends if she admitted she didn't like whiskey and this place didn't look like it would serve sweet 'girlie' drinks. "I'll have a beer."

"Make it two then, Colin," Angel said and the bartender poured two pints of stout. The long ribbons of black liquid were so thick they appeared to trickle like honey from the tap as it filled the glasses, making Buffy nervous.

Buffy had no idea if she was supposed to drink it or polish shoes with the stuff. She took a sip and the beer was so bitter she could barely swallow. She saw Angel was obviously have no such troubles. "You like this place?"

He nodded. "Always have."

"Is this like the other bar, ancient I mean?" Buffy could believe this place had been there for a long time.

"It was a pub in my day," Angel said. "I was a frequent patron."

"Is that why you had such a strange expression on your face just before you came in here?" Buffy was curious. She knew so little about his history and none of it good.

"There used to be an alley way down where I was looking." Angel took a long drink. "I was just thinking, if I hadn't been drunk off my ass, coming out of this pub with my friend intent on robbing my father, because I got along with him as well as my son got along with me, then maybe I wouldn't have gone down that alley."

Buffy leaned forward, capturing his hand against the wood of the old table. "Is that where you..."

"Died? Yes," he said it so simply Buffy was taken aback.

She felt a shiver run up her spine. "How can you come here then?"

"In some odd way it feels like a homecoming to me, and it's not a bad thing." Angel glanced around the pub. "I came to Ireland to find myself. I found a lot of my bad traits all over again but I found some of the good, too. It just took a while." Angel curled his fingers around hers. "I don't know how long you're planning on staying, but if you're here for a little while, I'd like to take you to the Roisin Dubh. It's a pub that has some of the best traditional music around and I'd like you to hear that."

Buffy smiled. "I'd like that. Shea suggested it, too, said something about it having good crack but I'm hoping that's not what I think it is." Buffy wrinkled her nose.

Angel laughed. " i Craic /I , it means good fun."

"Good to know. Now I have two Irish words, i craic /I and quarehawk," she said brightly.

Angel's eyes slotted. "Was Shea calling me quare again?"

Buffy giggled. "Yes, and she isn't wrong. You can be strange."

Angel's eyebrows raised. "I don't have to take that from someone who can't abide crusts on her bread and had to have them cut off and the bread pinched together so the sandwich wouldn't leak."

"You remember that?" Buffy's eyes widened.

Angel's face softened. "I remember lots of things, Buffy. I remember how bad you were in French even with me and Willow tutoring you and how you'd say the cutest unintentional things in that language...and some embarrassing things too and have no clue."

"Hey, so I'm not Rupert 'I can speak every language on the planet' Giles." Buffy pouted.

Angel smiled. "You exaggerate a bit but between Giles and I, and no doubt Willow in a few years, we can cover a good deal of it. I was always surprised how, in spite of loving language, Spike never could deal with new languages. He could pick up demons ones but human ones, hell he can barely speak English."

Buffy eyed him sourly. "I'm trying to picture Spike in love with language. You, yes, that's easy with all your books but Spike?"

"He never told you about writing poetry?" Angel seemed honestly surprised.

Buffy nodded. "You mean he was serious? Is he any good?"

Angel spread his hands. "I liked his poetry but I never told him. It was much more fun to make fun of him and watch him cry. Then Dru would go fret over him and be out of my and Darla's hair."

"You four must have been something else to live with," she said tartly, trying not to picture it.

"Like any family, we had our fights and our triumphs...which for a Slayer those triumphs are what keep you busy at night," he said ruefully. "And I see I'm going to have to teach you how to drink Guinness." He pointed to her untouched beer.

Buffy made a face. "It's a little bitter and thick."

"You should be able to put a coin on the foam and not have it break through."

"That's not a selling point, Angel." Buffy tried another sip. "It tastes like liquid bread."

"A good beer is supposed to." Angel frowned at his pint glass. "I miss that taste."

"I'm sorry," Buffy said, though she wasn't really sure it required a response. "Do you think we should head back soon?" She pushed her beer to him.

Angel took it and drank heartily. "Probably. I usually stay out longer."

"I guess that makes sense with the way you're trapped inside all day," Buffy said.

Angel polished off the beer in a few long swallows then got up. "Let's go. Connor might still be awake. I should see him. He seems to get afraid if he's left alone. I can always come back out later. I won't do anything stupid, promise."

"I'll hold you to it." Buffy followed him outside and back toward Salthill. "Did you love her, Angel?"

He glanced down at her. "Darla? I tell myself I didn't but in some ways, yes. She just never made me very, happy which I suppose is how I made you feel back in Sunnydale."

Buffy looked away. "Sometimes, yes but not always and I loved you."

"I know. I didn't love Darla at first. Hell, I didn't even know her. She had been stalking me, knew I was dumb enough to go down a dark alley after a woman without even thinking about what was a rich lady doing out at night alone," he said, in a 'I'm kicking myself' tone. "We were together for a very long time, Buffy but she couldn't handle the soul. She ran when I needed her most. I understand it now but I was very afraid back then, half insane."

"I can imagine. I saw what getting a soul did to Spike," she broke in, even though she knew she probably shouldn't bring up Spike. "He was out of his head."

"So was I. I guess I did love her a little. She loved our child even though she didn't want to. She wanted it gone but nothing could end the pregnancy and trust me, she tried everything," he said without recrimination. "She couldn't bear the effects of Connor's soul as it wove itself into her. She killed herself so he could be born. He was dying inside her and she made her choice."

"I can't imagine how hard that must of been," Buffy said, feeling pity for the vampire in spite of what she was.

"She said he was the only good thing she and I ever did together and she was right.' Angel paused. "I never told Connor that."

"Why not?"

"Because sometimes I'm an idiot," he said. "And when he came back, Connor hated me and I wanted nothing more than to tear out everything Holtz had put into him and make him mine again. I forgot that he didn't know me, that he feared me. I should have told him what his mother said, how much she loved him. Instead, all he heard was Angelus telling him Darla staked herself because she didn't want to hear his whiny little voice. I didn't tell him about her love until it was too late, until he was there in the mall with a bomb around his waist."

Buffy heard his agony and slipped her arm around him.

"All he wanted was to die, Buffy. He thought nobody could love him, that we'd be better off without him. He said I tried to love him but the way he said it...he didn't believe that I actually did."

Buffy pulled him to a halt. She reached up and caught his face in her hands, pulling him down. Her lips brushed his. "I believe it. And you and I both know what it's like to think a parent doesn't care. Tell me there were times you didn't think your father didn't love you," she demanded and his eyes closed. "I'm pretty damn sure mine doesn't love me. He didn't come to Mom's funeral. He didn't come to mine and he sure as hell didn't take responsibility for Dawn. I know what a lonely place it is thinking your parents don't want you. So, you go home and tell Connor what you're telling me. It's not too late, Angel. Maybe that's what he's waiting for. Maybe that's what he really needs to heal completely, to know he's loved and you want him in your life. Sometimes actions aren't enough and we need to hear it."

Angel swept her up in his arms, pulling her off her feet. His cheek fit alongside her neck. "Buffy, even if you leave tonight, you've helped more than you know."

Buffy just hugged him, not knowing what else to say. She was glad she had helped. Had she done enough? Could she do more? She had only planned on staying as long as Angel needed her help, not anticipating the size of his problem. Should she stay with him? Did she need to get back to work? Could she do both? Was she burying her own problems, shunting them aside so she could help him and pretend her own pain didn't exist.

Angel fell into a silence that worried her as they walked along. She couldn't read his face well in the streetlights. What was he thinking? She could only hope that he was pulling back out of his depression.

Shea was back watching TV when they arrived home. She got up, coming over to them. "I see you're in better shape than most nights." She gave Angel a critical eye. "The boys are still up with Connor, all three of them asleep in front of the TV the last I looked. Let me go rouse them."

"It might be less scary that way." Angel smiled gently.

"Yes, we don't want them to freak out and set Angel on fire," Buffy said.

"Uh, what?" Angel shot her a surprised look.

"The Weasley twins know a bit of vampire flambé magic," Buffy replied, trying not to grin at Angel's nervous expression.

Shea laughed. "Their parents both come from families who've been Watchers and mages for centuries. The boys know some spells. They can handle a vampire...from a safe distance."

Buffy paused in the doorway seeing one twin asleep in the chair while the other was across the foot of Angel's bed. Connor was twitching and moaning in his bed like he was battling something. It made Buffy instantly nervous. "Shea..."

"He's just having a dream, Buffy. He has some bad ones judging from his reactions," Shea replied.

Angel went over to Connor's bed, and gently touched his shoulder. The young man woke, thrashing. Angel just caught his hands and put them down at Connor's sides. "It's okay, Connor. You're safe."

Buffy saw Connor's blue eyes darting around as if he didn't know where he was. Shea woke up her twins and Buffy watched them study Angel part in awe and part in fear. Buffy smiled at them. "He doesn't look too vicious, does he?"

"We read about the order of Aurelius," Scully said, or was it Ryan? "We know what he was like."

"But Mom said he's pretty tame now," the other twin said.

Angel laughed. "Oh good, I'm quare and tame. There's a good Watcher's footnote for you."

"Away with the two of you. Time to find your beds," Shea said, waving her sons out of the room "Before your big mouths get you in trouble. How's our wee man, Angel?"

"Sleepy."

Shea went over to the bed and poured a little water into the sponge cup. "I'll show you how to do this in case the ice chips don't go well tomorrow. Connor, would you like a little water?"

Connor opened his mouth like a baby bird expecting a worm. Shea popped in a sponge and he sucked the water out of it. The nurse let Angel try with the next sponge.

"Shea, if Buffy's going to be around for a few more days I'm planning on taking her to the Roisin Dubh. If Fiona can watch Connor, I'd like you and the boys to come, too," Angel said.

"I'd love it," Shea said, heading for the door. "The boys love the pub, maybe a bit too much."

"Mom used to worry about me going to the Bronze, a club back home. Mostly the teenagers just went for the music. At least you have a few years before you have to worry about them drinking in the pubs," Buffy said.

Shea laughed. "Not as many as you think, Buffy. Eighteen is legal drinking age here. Hell, my boys are already legal to have sex and trust me, I'm nowhere near prepared for that either." The Watcher's eyes twinkled as she left the room.

"Things are a bit accelerated here." Buffy made a face. "Dawn's not allowed to visit."

"She's in England? Same rules apply." Angel smiled at her.

Buffy sighed. "Are the English as married to alcohol as you Irish? I've yet to find something Shea doesn't put alcohol in. It was in the cake, in the mussels, just plain in the glasses. I'm surprised she hasn't wet Connor's sponges with Guinness. 'Here my wee man, a little beer. You're legal'," Buffy said in a bad Irish accent.

Angel laughed. "It's not as bad as that."

Buffy smiled. "Well, the whiskey cake was delicious. I should go see if there's more left. But it's true, Connor's legal here." She pulled up the bedding that Connor had kicked to the bottom of the bed. He watched her intently.

Angel shook his head, slumping into the seat. "If Shea thinks she's not ready, it's nothing compared to how unready I am for the idea of Connor drinking. I don't think he's ever had alcohol, unless he stole some from Gunn when I was busy fish-spotting." Angel looked at Connor. His son gazed back but offered nothing.

Buffy put a hand on his shoulder. "Why don't I leave you two alone so you can sit with him while he's awake before you go back out? It's been a long day for me. I just want a nice long bath."

"Thanks, Buffy, for everything."

She kissed his cheek then whispered. "You're welcome and I know you can't tell me after seeing how he went after that sponge that he's beyond hope. He knew exactly what Shea wanted."

Angel nodded. "I saw."

"Goodnight, Angel." Buffy picked up the bear from where it had fallen and put it back in bed with Connor. She touched his arm. "Goodnight, Connor."

Buffy decided to forget about the cake and went in to take that long, hot bath. She didn't miss that she did indeed have bruises on her back that vaguely spelt out Angel's name. She got one of the mystery books off the shelf in the guest room and settled into the hot water to read and not think about what she was going to do next. She was too tired and it was too hard. She would worry about it in the morning.