Author's Note: As ever, thanks to everyone for their support. I couldn't have come this far without you.
The scene in Connor's subconscious comes from Season Four's "Inside Out" (written & directed by Steven S DeKnight)
"I can't leave the two of you alone for a second, can I?" Cordelia chastised them.
Connor was wild-eyed as he looked from Angel to Cordelia, before realizing where the jolt of magical power had come from. Unmindful of the expression on Cordy's face – which any sane man would have cowered at – he turned his rage towards her.
"Filthy demon!" Connor spat, taking her aback.
"Excuse me! The ongoing war might have cut into my personal grooming time. And yes, technically, half-demon," she admitted. "But hey!"
He sprang at her, prompting Angel yell and jump to his feet in an effort to protect her. Before he could get across the cave, however, Cordelia began to emit another glow – a softer one this time – as she reached out to Connor. He slowed in his tracks and simply stood there as Cordy touched his face.
"It's okay, Connor. That's enough. You don't have to fight anymore. Let it go. Just let it go."
Her voice was calm, soothing, and Angel could see all the rage ebbing away from his son's face.
"Let it go."
Finally, he slumped to the ground, sobbing, and Cordelia leaned back against the wall of the cave exhausted. Angel was at her side in an instant, helping to support her weight.
"Hey," she greeted him with a tired smile.
"Hey," he responded in kind, before remembering just why she was so weak. His face fell as guilt washed over him. "Cordy, I'm so sorry… I -"
Shaking her head, she brought her fingers up to cover his lips and silence him. "That wasn't your fault, Angel. It was all part of the delusion the Senior Partners were feeding you. I'm just glad you snapped out of it."
He looked down at his son, and then at their current surroundings, and frowned.
"What's going on? Where are we?"
"My best guess? We're currently somewhere in Connor's subconscious. I'm hoping that jolt I gave him will sever the connection the Senior Partners have with him – stop their brain-drain. Then, in theory, I'll be able to wake the two of you up."
"Good theory," Angel replied as Connor got to his feet and the cave they were in became a darkened room in what appeared to be some kind of warehouse. In the corner, a girl cowered, afraid for her life.
"Please!" the young girl sobbed.
"It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you. I brought you some water," Connor told her, holding out the cup.
"Damn," Cordy said, looking on. "I guess my little energy bolt calmed him down a little, but didn't snap him out of his delusion."
"What do we do now?" Angel asked. "You know what's going to happen here, right?"
She nodded grimly. "Only too well."
"Here's something," Giles announced, pointing out a passage in the text her had been reading. "It's a little more – gruesome – than the effect we're after, but…"
Willow glanced over the incantation. "A spell for a sorcerer to, er, rip the energy from his enemies. Ooh, with a subsection on removing the life force from an entire army – oh! –eviscerating them in the process."
Xander grimaced. "Nasty."
"Yikes," Dawn commented with a little gulp. "You're not going to have to eviscerate anyone, are you Will?"
Willow simply smirked and set to work on the text, while Giles sat forward, lacing his fingers together in a thoughtful manner, to address Dawn's question.
"The original enjoining spell was to join together specific elements from just four people and combine them, along with the primal essence of the slayer, within one vessel, to be wielded by 'the hand'," he explained. "Obviously, adjustments will have to be made in our – unique circumstance."
Willow jotted something down in her notebook and grinned, double checking in the large tome beside her before looking up at Giles.
"Well?" he asked her expectantly.
Her face alone was enough to convince Xander.
"By George, I think she's got it," he said in an awful imitation of Giles' accent.
Willow nodded gleefully. "I think this just might work."
"Just might?" Xander's confidence wavered slightly. "Not definitely or without a doubt?" He looked around the room, suddenly a little worried. "Does anyone still have a copy of Oz's hummus plan? Because, at this stage, I think we should be open to all suggestions – anything that doesn't involved viscera."
"Xander –" she admonished good naturedly. "It's going to work, okay?"
"It better," Faith informed her as she re-entered the library. "One of the patrols just checked in. The demon army is a few miles away and headed this way. Looks like they'll be here by sundown."
"We'd better be prepared, then," Giles said. "Faith, you and Buffy get the girls ready. Willow? What do you need?"
"The scythe," she replied. "And a little help from you guys."
Connor seemed fine at first. He tried to calm the crying girl he was holding captive – offering her water and telling her he was sorry. The next thing he was looking around him, unnerved, and talking to no one.
"What's going on?" Angel asked. "Part of his delusion?"
"You can't be my mother," Connor told no one. "My mother is dead."
"Darla?" Angel whispered, looking around the room.
Cordelia looked at him, surprised. "You can see her?"
"No," he replied. "Is she here?"
Cordy nodded. "Sort of. The Powers sent her spirit to Connor, to try and convince him not to take part in this murder. Obviously it didn't work."
"How long do we have until…"
"Until the thing in my body gives birth?" she asked, her voice making a brave attempt at being light. "A few minutes, maybe."
"We need a plan," Angel told her. "How are we going to snap Connor back to reality?"
Faith found a large number of slayers huddled around the long table in the mansion's cavernous kitchen, chowing down on the supplies some of the girls had taken from a nearby abandoned store. There was a strange vibe in the air – fear and uncertainty coming off each girl in waves.
The low buzz of chatter died down when they saw the dark-haired slayers, and all eyes turned to her.
"They're on their way here," she told them. "We have 'til sunset to be ready."
The murmuring started up again – this time in a different pitch. Panic.
"Hey! I need you to stay calm here," she yelled. "We're working on a plan, and we'll clue you in before the time comes, but you need to trust us, okay?"
"Looks like some of your speechifying has rubbed off on her, love," Spike remarked to Buffy as the entered the kitchen.
"Looks like," Buffy smirked. She stood at Faith's side and faced the crowd of slayers before her. "Willow has a plan that is going to work. Powerful magicks that will defeat the Senior Partners. But we'll need each and every one of you at one hundred percent when we go onto that battlefield. So eat up and get some rest while you can."
Most of the girls went back to their food, but Rona got up from her bench and approached Buffy.
"Have you seen… how Vi's doing?"
Buffy's expression softened. "I've just been by the infirmary. She's still unconscious. But they managed to stop the bleeding. You can go sit with her, if you like."
Rona couldn't speak, so she simply nodded and headed out of the room.
Faith grabbed both her and Buffy a drink and huddled together with Spike to plan.
"So, what's the deal? How soon before Will does her hocus pocus," she asked the blonde slayer.
"She won't be able to do it until the battle starts," Buffy replied. "It only lasts a limited amount of time. So we'll have to keep the demons busy while she performs the spell."
"Without getting ripped apart by the big bads," Spike remarked.
"You will need my help."
They turned to see Illyria standing in the doorway.
"You up for this fight, blue?" Spike asked her.
She fixed her cold, blue stare on him. "I am."
Rondell strode into what had become the infirmary to check on his injured crew members – the few that had survived. He did a double take at the sight of several demons – those who had not participated in the battle – tending to them, led by Lorne.
He approached Nico first. "Hey man. How you feeling?"
Nico shrugged. "My leg's all messed up, man," he replied. "I don't know how much help I'm gonna be to you for a while."
Rondell patted him on the shoulder. "You just rest up. Get back on your feet, okay?"
He moved on through the room, stopping to talk to his friends who were awake, pausing by the bedsides of those who were unconscious and trying to take in the extent of their injuries. So many members of his crew were dead. So many more were horribly injured, lying amongst scores of demons and slayers alike who come off worse in battle, but who's suffering had not yet ended.
And yet, the fight was not over.
Lorne joined him by the bedside of another of his friends. He barely recognized him as Michael, who had joined his crew two years before. Now he lay, unconscious but in terrible pain, with half of his body covered in terrible burns.
"Can't you give him anything for the pain?" he asked the green demon.
Lorne nodded. "We tried dosing him up with magical morphine," he replied. "But his injuries… there's nothing more we can do until we can get out of the city and get him to a hospital."
Rondell leveled a cold look in his direction and Lorne saw the despair that was there. "We're not getting out of this city."
"You will not beat your enemy with that attitude," a weak voice said behind him.
Turning, Rondell found himself face to face with Rieff. His shirt was off and his stomach was heavily bandaged.
"Where's that cocky attitude of yours, human?" the demon asked him. "I thought you were indestructible."
"Doesn't feel much like that today," Rondell replied.
Rieff nodded, understanding.
"It's hard to believe in your ability to fight when those you care about have fallen," he said with wisdom beyond his years. "But you cannot give up."
"Why not?" Rondell challenged him.
"For the same reason that we must win this fight," Rieff replied. "Because we have to."
Darla had obviously succeeded, at least temporarily, because Connor, after running the gamut of emotions, was now stooping to untie his captive.
"What are you doing?"
Connor turned around, looking guilty, and saw Cordelia, dressed in black and heavily pregnant, watching him from the doorway, a meat cleaver in her hand. Nervously, he stood up to face her.
"Nothing. I…"
"It's time," she told him. "Take her in the other room."
He hesitated for a moment, torn.
"She didn't do anything," he said. "We should let her go."
The evil Cordelia was dumbfounded.
"No, we shouldn't. We need her, Connor. Our baby—"
"Shouldn't be anointed with innocent blood."
"Anointed? Who's been filling your head with big confusing words?"
The real Cordelia turned to Angel. "This is going to go down any minute. What are we going to do?"
"When you interacted with me, in my subconscious, I reacted, right?"
She nodded. "Yeah. Tried to kill me – a couple of times."
"So, we distract Connor. Try to delay the ritual. Maybe that will…"
"It's Angel," the Pregnant Cordelia said.
Angel's head snapped round to see what was going on. "What? What did I do," he said, confused.
"Trying to turn you against me with a cheap vision of…" she paused, her eyes locking on the vision Connor had been seeing. "Darla."
"You can see her?" Connor asked.
"I see the lies," she told him.
The real Cordy averted her eyes, unable to watch this horrible scene from her memory. Tears welled up in her eyes.
"God, I can't –" she said. "Angel, I…"
He put an arm around her, letting her head fall onto his chest. "Shh. It's okay, Cordy. That wasn't you."
"I'm – She's about to murder that poor girl."
"You are not my mother!" screamed at the vision of Darla, tears beginning to stream down his face but his rage unmistakable. Grabbing the young girl by the ropes that bound her wrists, he began to drag her towards the other room.
"Now, Angel!" Cordy yelled.
They both charged at him, knocking him off his feet and away from the girl. He looked back and forth between the two Cordelia's. The evil Cordy didn't even seem to notice anything strange had happened – she simply continued to walk towards the other room, a self-satisfied smirk upon her face.
"Another trick?" Connor asked, his eyes narrowing.
"Connor, you have to stop this," Angel told him.
The younger man got to his feet, shaking his head.
"You're trying to split up my family!" he yelled at his father. "You want to kill my child just like you wanted to kill me!"
"That's not true, son."
Connor drew his sword. "I won't let you ruin this for me, Dad," he spat contemptuously. "I'll kill you before I let that happen."
He made to attack Angel, but Cordelia stepped in the way.
"Angel, back up. Let me talk to him."
Angel backed to the far end of the room while she turned to Connor. His battle stance had softened somewhat at her presence, but he still looked aggressive and distrusting.
"You're not the real Cordy."
"Connor, none of this is real," Cordy told him. "This is all just a memory. Please. Try to remember. This all happened over a year ago."
"No!" he yelled. "You're just a trick. You're trying to stop my baby from coming into this world."
He turned away from her and Cordy dashed forwards, grabbing his arm. With a roar that didn't even sound human, Connor back handed her, sending her crashing to the floor. Not even looking back, he grabbed the girl once more and followed the evil Cordelia out of the room.
"Cordy!" Angel cried out, immediately rushing to her side. Blood seeped from a cut at the side of her mouth and she raised a hand to wipe it away.
"Blood," she said, looking her crimson-stained fingers and prompting Angel to take a closer look at her wound.
"It's not deep," he told her. "There'll probably be some swelling, but…"
"No," she replied, finally getting it. "That's what will snap Connor out of this. My blood."
Everything was prepared. There was nothing to do now but wait.
Buffy and Spike stood shoulder to shoulder behind the tempered glass windows of the mansion and watched their troops take up their positions. Compared with the numbers they had originally started out with, it was a frighteningly small army. But it was all they had.
"Sun's going down," Buffy remarked.
Spike grinned grimly. "Showtime."
"Are you sure this will work?" Angel asked again.
"It has to," she replied. "I should have seen it before. That's what brought you out from under the spell – my blood."
He nodded and followed her out into the main body of the warehouse. The other Cordelia's labor was now well under way.
"Now, Angel. Before Jasmine is gets here."
Lunging forwards, they grabbed Connor, using the element of surprise to their advantage and managing to pin him to the ground. He struggled as Cordelia produced a knife.
"Hold him," she instructed Angel as she slid the blade across her palm, cutting into her flesh. Blood seeped up through the wound.
Placing her uninjured hand on Connor's lower jaw, she forced his mouth open. Before he could say or do anything, she brought her other hand down, letting her blood trickle into his mouth.
"Drink up, son," Angel told him. "It'll all be over soon."
They stood in the grand front lawn of Cyvus Vail's spectacular estate, which was about to become a battlefield. Menacingly, the demon army approached them – considerably smaller than the one they had faced the previous night, but daunting thanks to the presence of the two huge demons that led them.
"You know the drill," Faith told her troops. "We hold the demons off, and avoid the big ones, until Willow does her thing. Then the rest of you get the hell outta dodge."
"All of your powers are going to transfer to us temporarily," Buffy continued. "So you fall back, behind the heavy artillery and stay there. No heroics."
"Everyone get ready!" Faith called, hefting her axe in her hands and taking up a battle stance. Behind her, she could hear Willow begin to chant.
"The power of the Slayer and all who yield it. Last to ancient first, we invoke thee. Grant us thy domain and primal strength. Accept us in the power we possess."
"Here we go," Buffy said as the first rank of demons charged and the slayers ran out to meet them.
She could see the change happen in his eyes. It was as though a cloud was lifted there and now, suddenly, he could see again.
And he looked very confused.
She removed her hand from his mouth and they let him sit up.
"What…?" Connor started, and then grimaced, wiping his mouth and fighting the urge to spit the coppery taste from his mouth. "Did I – did I just drink blood?" he asked with no small measure of disgust.
"Yeah," Cordelia replied. "But only a little."
"Where are we?"
Looking around, they all experience the same suddenly feeling of dread in the pit of their stomach. They were back in the dark chamber – the one in the Pylean fortress.
"That's not good," Angel observed.
"Okay," Cordy said, trying to keep calm. She got up to look around the room. "We're not really here, guys. I just need to figure out how to wake you both up before…"
A gasping sound made her turn around.
The third Senior Partner – the Hart – had Connor and Angel by the throats, raising them into the air like rag dolls.
"Too late," It snarled. "Your souls are mine now."
To Be Continued...