AFTERMATH
By D.M. Evans
Disclaimer – not mine. All characters belong to Mr. Whedon et al
An Acquainted with the Night series story (progenitor story)
Rating – FRT
Pairing – None
Time Line – Immediately post Not Fade Away
Summary – What waits for Angel and his friends in the aftermath of the battle?

Author's Note - This is story #1 in the Acquainted with the Night multi-author series. Thanks to everyone in the group for the edits, suggestions and hand holding

CHAPTER ONE

Fresh death had a peculiar scent, a sourness as if life had lost a bitter battle. It permeated the air, soaking the pre-dawn breeze along with stench of smoke and the ripeness of spilled blood until the section of L.A. around the battlefield smelled of a charnel house. Blue and red lights knifed through air choked with smoke and powdery debris. Soon Angel would have to go underground but as thick as the smoke was, he might not need to. Sunlight most likely wouldn't be penetrating this today.

God, he wanted to rest. He wasn't sure when he last hurt this much. Maybe when Buffy had sent him to hell. He might even be there again for all he knew. It certainly looks like it, Angel thought as he carried a young girl's broken body to the area marked off by rescue workers. Bodies lined the broken area of street. If anyone noticed most of the victims were young girls, they were too stunned to say it. Slayers, dozens of them lay dead in a battle that wasn't theirs.

Buffy, if she had survived, would punch him for thinking it and tell him 'of course it was their battle. Things like this were always their battle.' He didn't know how the Slayers had found out about the danger. Giles had ignored his plea for help. Angel had known enough that help would be needed. He wasn't worried about his territory for a change. Had Giles had a change of heart? Had Wesley gotten through to the older Watcher?

He laid the dead girl down, thinking about all the every day heroics that had gone on around him during the fight. Like in the terrorist attacks in New York, police and fire fighters had charged into the area to help the civilians. Many died. Now, they were still flooding into the area to help the injured to triage stations then on to the hospitals. What kind of bravery did that take, given what had been raging on around them?

As he stood up, Angel caught a flash of gold out of the corner of his eye. Angel whirled, hoping to see Buffy but it was Spike, a gash running from the left corner of his widow's peak to the right, hatchet-like angle of his jaw. Something had nearly split the vampire's head in two and Angel couldn't imagine how much it hurt. Yes, he could; he was fairly sure a piece of his rib cage had been opened like the door to a birdcage.

"Have you seen him?" Angel was almost shocked by his own question. Buffy had been on his mind but it was his heart that spoke first. Connor had ignored his order to leave the battle and he should have known Connor would. When did the boy ever listen? He had seen his son hacking through the demon horde with single-minded determination. Angel knew he should be proud Connor had chosen to die with him but instead he was terrified that the person who mattered most to him would most likely be killed horribly. He hadn't seen Connor since the battle ended.

"Who?" Spike looked ready to drop onto the pile of victims and just quietly go to dust.

"Connor."

"That yobbo who was ogling Illyria's tits a while back?" Spike shook his head, sending a spray of gore over his cheeks. " Not since you brought down the dragon." Spike managed a twisted smile. "Glory hound." The light in his eyes faded. "They'll be days pulling victims out of the rubble."

"I know." Angel cast an eye skyward but couldn't see through the smoke and haze. "We have time to help before the sun comes up…if it can even cut through this. You up to helping?"

Spike nodded. He didn't look like he could so much as move, but Angel knew Spike'd be damned before he let Angel know that. Together they tried to listen over all the noise of the rescue efforts and the moans of the already rescued for signs of life under the rubble. A few words from Spike got Illyria searching as well even though she didn't seem to grasp the importance. Angel spotted Faith, bloody-headed but helping to shift debris, looking for survivors. She managed a weak look of relief when she saw the vampires.

A few feet further past some smoking rubble, he saw Buffy helping a dreadlocked teen move debris off the teen's pinned leg. Buffy gave them a dead-eyed look, accusations hiding in those depths. Angel ignored her, pushing on. There were just two more faces he wanted desperately to see, Connor and Gunn. Angel thought he had seen Gunn being spirited away when the fight was still on going and police had come in to help in spite of the horrors. Of Connor, there were no signs.

"Angel, over here," Spike bellowed.

Angel hobbled over and saw Spike trying to move hunks of concrete. A hand with twitching fingers poked out from the rubble. Nervous twitching meant someone was still alive under the detritus. The vampires started heaving building materials away. Blood smell wafted up from the impromptu cairn along with an all too familiar scent.

"No, damn it, no!" Angel growled, tearing faster at the debris.

"What is it?" Spike asked as he shoved off a heavy hunk of junk. He looked down at the swollen, bloody face he had just uncovered. "Man, the kid you were looking for."

"Connor," Angel whispered, kneeling beside his fallen son. The young man's blackened puffy eyes tried to open and his mouth moved but made no sound. "Don't try to talk." Angel went to lift him and Connor screamed, blood bubbling out of his mouth.

"He's impaled, Peaches," Spike cried, pointing.

Angel saw the piece of rebar he thought was behind Connor's shoulder was actually sprouting through it. "Oh God." Angel tried to support Connor without moving him while Spike ran off bellowing for emergency services. Connor's eyes attempted to focus on Angel but they were glazed with so much pain that Angel couldn't telll if his son saw anything. Connor's face, where it wasn't bruised, was so pale, that it looked like porcelain. "It'll be okay, Connor. We'll get you out of here. Help's on the way," he said, even though he wasn't sure that was true.

If Spike could find someone, they could cut Connor free. The rebar might not even be anchored but he couldn't ease Connor down and see because that would mean moving him on the metal and making him bleed worse. Angel couldn't even finish digging his son free. Frustrated, Angel felt like screaming but it wouldn't help anything.

A pair of hands flashed into Angel's line of sight. Those hands started plucking rubble off his son. Angel glanced over his shoulder into Buffy's grim face. She refused to look at him as she worked, as if she couldn't bear the sight of him.

"Angel," Connor said, his voice breathy, his face going bluish.

Angel trembled. His boy wasn't getting enough air. "Shhh, don't talk."

"Demons at the Reillys…looking for me," Connor rasped out with a desperate air, as if he knew he was dying.

Oh God, I never thought they'd come looking for him. "Tell me later, Connor." Angel didn't want Connor to waste his air.

"Dead…except my sister…listen close. Remember," Connor demanded then rattled off a number and Angel committed it to memory. He could only assume that it was Connor's sister's cell phone number.

Spike came back with EMT's and Buffy backed away. She shot the vampires a dark look then faded off into the clouds of settling dust. Angel put her out of his mind as he watched the rescue workers carefully spirit his son away. He demanded to know where they were taking him. Angel wished that Connor would still be at that hospital once Angel was forced to stop his rescue efforts and had time to go and be with his son. He knew the boy could be sent anywhere given how over run the hospitals would be. He could only hope he would be able to find his son later. Angel would have to try and track down where Gunn had been taken as well.

Angel tried to pretend that what might be happening to Connor would all be good. They'd remove the rebar going through him and get him stitched up. They'd have enough blood to make his cheeks pink up and get warm. He hoped Connor knew just how much he loved him, just in case. Angel threw himself into the rescue efforts but when the sun started peeking through the umbrella of dust, he gratefully escaped underground to start his search his child.