AUTHOR'SNOTE :Looks like I'm on a roll - I have heaps from the next several chapters written, so updates should be coming a this speed for a while now. It's all-Pylea, all the time this chapter. We'll return to Spike Vs Dragon in the next chapter, I promise ;)

Flashbacks and more Connor!Angst approaching.

DISCLAIMER: Sadly, I still own nothing. So, in retaliation, I'm torturing the hell out of everyone - characters and readers alike cue evil laugh

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: CHOICES.

It couldn't be…

"Fred?" Angel asked, stunned.

The pretty Texan smiled at him warmly and nodded.

"What are you…?"

She hitched herself up to her full height. "I'm the thing you have to face," she told him. "Your challenge."

Grinning broadly, she raised her fists and hopped about on the spot, mimicking a boxer.

"Come on, big guy."

He chuckled. "I'm not fighting you, Fred."

A brief laugh from her, light and girlish, before becoming serious.

"You're not here to fight, Angel," she told him, the gentle lilting of her voice bringing back a flood of memories. "You're here to stop."

"Stop?" He blinked; mirth fading, giving way to confusion. "Stop fighting? But…"

She nodded again. "It's time for it to end, Angel. You've done all you can do. You've atoned enough."

"This isn't about my atonement, Fred," he told her. "This is about stopping the Senior Partners before they unleash hell on earth. I can't stop fighting. It's not about me. It's about…"

"It's always been about you, Angel. Everything that happened? Connor being taken, Cordy dying, Charles and Wesley…" she paused, his name lingering on her lips like an elegy. "…and me. It's all been because of you. It's your punishment."

His eyes were wide. He couldn't have heard her right. "My…"

"Punishment," she repeated. Her features softened and she came towards him, laying a small hand on his arm. "Fighting the good fight, killing demons and stopping the apocalypse? None of that will ever make up for everything you did in the past, no matter how many lives you save. You know that."

"I… I thought it was about trying, just trying to do some good. I knew I'd never correct the balance, but I thought…"

"We were your atonement, Angel," she said sadly.

It couldn't be true. It just couldn't, he thought. If his punishment was truly to lose everyone he cared for, then why hadn't the Powers allowed him to remain alone, wandering the streets of New York, in his self-imposed prison of despair? Instead, they had sent him Whistler, and then Doyle, to draw him back into the world. He had come to believe the more people he had on his team, in his family, the more good he could do.

And instead he had led them all to their deaths.

She stood before him, radiant and beautiful, the way he should have seen her when she was on Earth. Her beautiful face.

Instead of comfort, all he felt was despair. He had only ever seen her true face before. Her maggot-infested, demonic visage. It had never bothered him then – after all, he had grown up in Quor'toth. But now, the beauty he saw in front of him simply represented yet one more thing he had been denied. The beautiful lie she told the world. The comfort it had brought everyone.

Everyone except him.

"You lost faith in me, Connor," she told him. "And as a result, you denied the world their paradise."

A tear slipped down his cheek. "What about my paradise?" he whispered. "Why couldn't I have seen what they saw? Felt what they felt?"

Her eyes were tender and sad. "Because you were not meant to," she replied. "I understand that now. You were not meant for this world. You were not meant to be created."

His eyes snapped up to meet hers. The one thing she had ever given him, the one thing, was the belief that his purpose in life had been to bring about her coming. If nothing else, he had that. A reason for being. Now…

"I was wrong in my choice of fathers," she went on. "If I hadn't been… the Earth would be a paradise."

He shut his eyes against her pitying stare. Memories of that moment – the moment he lost all hope – flashed through his mind.

"Connor, I still have you," Jasmine said. "Angel's ruined everything. But he can't defeat both of us. You still believe in me, don't you? You still love me?"

"Yes."

He loved her as his fist punched though her face, through her skull, killing her instantly. He watched sadly as she crumpled to the ground, any hope he had of belonging dying with her.

As he remembered the moment he killed her, dizziness overtook him and he collapsed to his knees, dry-heaving as the scene played out in his head. He had wanted to fade away, disappear from the world in that moment. And then later…

Later he had truly wanted to die.

The world was harsh and cruel. And Connor was trapped inside it as it spiraled out of control.

He had sensed his father approaching without having to turn around. One more step, he thought… A little to the left…

"Connor… son?"

An explosion rocked the rear of the store in which they were holed up. The already terrified hostages screaming, ducking for cover.

"You might not want to move," he called out to Angel. "The people are rigged, too."

Angel looked around at the frightened souls peering back at him and froze in

place.

"Can't save them all, dad. You don't know who's going to be first. Could be any one of them."

He stood up and turned toward his father, the pain and the sadness marring his once young face. He looked haunted, older than his years. And as Angel dragged his gaze away from his son's face, he saw the explosives strapped to his chest.

"Could be me."

He stepped aside then, giving Angel a clear view of the person he'd been sitting beside.

Cordy.

To the casual observer, she was sleeping peacefully. But for the several pounds of explosives that surrounded her unconscious form.

"Could be her."

Angel looked back and forth between them, the two most important people in his life, and then to the hostages; frightened innocent people he had made it his mission in life to protect.

"Son, you have to listen to me," he pleaded. "This is about Jasmine."

"Jasmine…" he whispered, and she was at his side, wiping his clammy brow, comforting him.

"Its okay, Connor," she said softly in his ear. "It will all be over soon."

"Jasmine's gone," he said.

Angel nodded sadly. "I know. We all felt it, that perfect love… and then when we had to give it up…"

Rage spilled over. As always, his father didn't understand him. Any of it. "I didn't feel anything!" He stopped, chest heaving, before continuing in a quieter voice. "I can't feel anything. I guess I really am your son because I'm dead, too."

"You're not dead, Connor. You're just starting your life."

"No! You just weren't there before."

"I know. And I'm so—"

"Do not say you're sorry! It doesn't fix anything."

"I'm sorry," he sobbed, the words tearing at his throat. "I'm so sorry…"

Jasmine continued to stroke his forehead. "I know Connor. I know."

He sobbed harder as the scene played out in his mind.

"Then let me say this. I love you, son."

"It's a lie."

"It's a lie," he whispered to her. "He didn't want me. He didn't love me. How could he after what I've done."

She smiled indulgently. "That's right, sweetheart. That's right."

"It's not," Angel insisted.

"It's always a lie. My dead mother couldn't even love me."

"Your own mother killed herself so she wouldn't have to raise you, Connor," Jasmine whispered to him. "Because she knew she would never love you."

And still, Angel kept arguing back. "You're wrong. She did."

"No. She knew she couldn't."

"She sacrificed herself because she loved you."

"You tried to love me…" Connor admitted. "At least I think you did."

"I still do."

"But not enough to hang on, dad," he sobbed back. "You let him take me away. You let him get me. You let him get me…"

"He just let him take me," he sobbed into her dress. "He abandoned me."

"He wasn't the only one," she whispered back.

He looked down at Cordelia's slumbering form.

"Cordy, you swore you loved me. Where are you now?"

"She's lost to you now, Connor," Jasmine whispered to him. "She chose him. Not you."

"Connor, you have to believe that there are people who love you."

"Jasmine believed you when you said you loved her but it was all a lie," Connor replied angrily.

"Jasmine was the lie."

He could feel her hand still on face as she leaned closer to him. "Angel just can't accept those who don't fit into his perfect model of morality, Connor," she told him. "That's why he will never accept you. Not truly…"

"No! She knew if you found out who she really was, that you'd turn against her. And she was right. That's just what happened. People like you…" Connor gestured wildly at the hostages. "People like this. None of you deserved what she could give you. She wanted to give you everything."

"I know how that feels because I want to give you everything. I want to take back the mistakes, help you start over."

Connor shook his head bitterly. "You can't start over."

"We can," Angel insisted. "I mean, we can change things."

"There's only one thing that ever changes anything and that's death. Everything else is just a lie. You can't be saved by a lie… you can't be saved at all."

As the vision ended, Connor felt the bile rise in his throat once more. He rolled over and vomited as Jasmine rubbed his back, speaking in soothing tones.

"It's alright, baby. Just let it all out."

Angel felt sick to his stomach. "Fred, if that's true then…" He could barely bring himself to say it. "Then, all of this has been my fault."

"No. Angel." She placed her hand on his down cast face and lifted his eyes up to meet her own. "We all chose to follow you."

"But you didn't know the risks."

She shook her head. "It wouldn't have mattered. We still would have done it. We would do it again," she insisted. "It was the right thing. The good fight. But now, it's over."

"I still don't understand, Fred," he told her. "If the fight is over, then why is there a war going on right now in LA? Why are Faith and the others outside this fortress right now, fighting? Why did we come here to face the Senior Partners?"

"Because you haven't ended it."

It sounded so incredibly simple. But he knew, in his unbeating heart, that nothing was ever that simple. There would always be a price.

"I have to…?"

"You have to make a choice, Angel," she replied, her voice more serious than he had ever heard it. "You have decided whether to continue fighting and let hundreds, thousands, maybe even millions die; or to stop. End it right here and now, and the war ends, both here and LA."

Angel's eyes narrowed at the proposal.

"What's the catch?"

Cordy stood very still, her back to the altar, controlling her breathing and grasping her katana in her hand. Preparing herself for fight or, if necessary, flight.

One last steadying breath and she spun around to face her foe.

She was only slightly embarrassed when a small shriek of surprise escaped her throat.

"Jeez, Cordelia. You'd give a guy a complex."

She felt shock. Then relief. Then annoyance. And finally, full-blown anger.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

He stepped down off the altar towards her. "Now, is that anyway to greet your guide, Ms Chase?" Skip asked.

She raised the sword a little higher and sneered at him. "No. The proper way for me to greet you would be to shove this sword through your chest. You set me up, you son of a bitch! First with the half-demon-making, then with tricking me into ascending to my big fluffy cloud prison in the sky; when all along you were working for Jasmine!"

He shrugged. "I admit - it looks bad for me. But I'm trying to fix it. After all, if it weren't for your demon-powers, you wouldn't be here right now and the Senior Partners wouldn't have to deal with you."

It took a moment for his words to sink in. "You work for the Senior Partners now?"

The demon shrugged again. "It pays better."

Connor felt as though the past year had never happened. He was plunged back, right into the middle of the despair Angel had found him in that mall. Back to a time before he'd been given a second chance with a loving family and a normal life.

But now… the world seemed darker than it ever had before. Connor felt abandoned and alone. But for her gentle voice…

"It will all be over soon," she told him. "You just need to choose for it to end."

Eyes swollen and raw, he looked up into her beautiful face, but could derive no comfort from it. "I get to choose?"

She nodded, smiling down on him like a benevolent angel. "You were never meant for this world, Connor. You understand that now. You've caused so much hurt and pain to everyone, especially the people you care about the most. But there is a way to rectify all of that."

"How?" Anything, he thought. He would do anything to put this right. To stop his pain. To stop hurting Angel and Cordy and everyone else whose life he'd ruined.

"The Senior Partners require a sacrifice," she replied. "The three of you are only dangerous to them while you all continue to live. But if one of you were to… cease being a threat – the partners would be willing to let the others go, and stop the war."

It was a simple choice to make. He had been ready and more than willing to die a year ago. Now his death might serve a purpose.

He looked into her eyes and gave his answer.

TO BE CONTINUED...