Disclaimer: I do not own Angel or any other characters, (althought I would love to have Connor as my lovemuffin) they all belong to Joss & Co. I also do not own the song in this fic or any of its lyrics. It's just my favorite song! lol
Author's note: I'm from Sweden, so English is not my actual language, but I do my best! Keep that in mind. Plus, I don't have a beta.This is my first fic ever to be published, so be gentle with me. lol But please R&R! I guess that's it. Enjoy!
When Connor walked into his room one evening he just didn't know what to do. He had so many pent up feelings that just ached to come up to the surface.
But he didn't want that to happen, because if it did, that'd be it. The big breakdown that hadn't happened for a couple of months now.
He was now living at the Hyperion with Angel and the gang. He still thought of him as 'Angel', and not 'Dad'. That could happen eventually, him seeing Angel as 'Dad', but he knew who his 'Father' was. Holtz. Just the name immediatly brought tears to his eyes.
Damn it, he wouldn't think about that now! He'd deal at a later time. Now, he had stuff to do. Very, very important stuff. Like sitting in his chair. And staring at a wall.
Or maybe he could just turn on the radio. Listen to some music and think about something else instead of his own pathetic life.
He kinda liked the first tunes of the song that played on the radio. Suddenly, he was listening to the words.
'All day
Staring at the ceiling
Makin' friends with shadows on my wall'
He could really relate to that. He never had had any friends. Except Holtz. Again, his eyes teared up at the thought of him. No, he thought. Concentrate on the music instead.
'All night
Hearing voices telling me
that I should get some sleep
Because tomorrow might be good for something
Hold on
Feeling like I'm headed for a breakdown
and I don't know why'
The tears in his eyes slowly creeped back. Why did he feel like this? Why couldn't he just put away his past and start a new life there with Angel? Dad... No, Angel! Now, the tears were falling freely from his cheeks. He didn't understand this world! Why should he be forced to live in it?
'Well I'm not crazy
I'm just a little unwell
I know right now you can't tell
But stay a while and maybe then you'll see
A different side of me
I'm not crazy
I'm just a little impaired
I know, right now you don't care
But soon enough you're gonna think of me
And how I used to be'
Suddenly, he jumped up from the chair, grabbed the back of it, and slammed it into a wall. He was crazy, he stated coldly. But no one understood, no one... He tipped the bed over, ripped the paintings from the walls, crashed the window with an elbow.
'Me,
talking to myself in public
And dodging glances on the train
And I know
I know they've all been talkin' bout me
I can hear them whisper
And it makes me think there must be something wrong with me
Out of all the hours thinkin
Somehow I've lost my mind'
When there was nothing left to destroy he just started hitting the wall. Big fat tears rolled down his face and onto his shirt as his knuckles started to bleed.
'I've been talkin in my sleep
Pretty soon they'll come to get me
Yeah, they're takin' me away'
He punched, and punched, and punched, and punched. The wall was now sprinkled with red, but he couldn't stop. He wasn't even there. Suddenly he wasn't punching the wall anymore. It was softer. He opened his eyes. Angel was standing there, with so much worry in his eyes that Connor thought he would drown in it. But he kept hitting his father's chest over and over again until Angel slowly put his arms around Connor's shoulders and pulled his son to him.
Connor kept hitting in furious panic until he didn't have any anger in him. All that was left was pain, confusion and grief. Grief over the childhood that was stolen from him and the mother he would never have, but most of all he grieved all the things he had done to his father. His real father. Angel.
"Dad," he whimpered, and if Angel hadn't had supernatural hearing he wouldn't have noticed between all the tears, but he did. And it made him cry to.
"Connor," he sobbed. "Connor, I'm so poud of you. I'm so proud."
They both fell to their knees and then the father just held his son. And he never planned on letting go.
'Well I'm not crazy
I'm just a little unwell
I know right now you can't tell'