Disclaimer: I don't own Angel.

A/N: A big thank you to angel-cordy, a.a.k.88, Louvil, justawritier, kiwilass, and especially gopie for all the reviews. It's good to know someone's still reading this!

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Connor fled to the second floor of the Hyperion. The old hotel smelled musty, like it had been shut up for months. Beneath the scent of dust and mildew were the remnants of the hundreds of people who had come through here just a year ago to worship Jasmine. His daughter. The demon-goddess who had tried to take over the world. The thought made him freeze in his tracks and put a hand out to the wall to steady himself. The wallpaper beneath his palm was dry and cracked with age. His father had never bothered to do much renovating around here. Didn't have the time. Too busy saving the world. Too busy to save his own son from Hell.

Bile rose up in the back of Connor's throat, and he gagged. At home, away from this place, it had been almost easy to deal with the dual sets of conflicting memories. He could just pretend that other life was some weird dream. Violent, terrifying, and even at times, hot as hell, but just dreams. Here, in this place, where he'd apparently lived as an infant, where he'd spent an entire summer, it was harder to draw the line between real and fake. He gagged again, and this time lost what little was in his stomach. The puke hit the wall, dribbling down the wallpaper and over the wooden chair rail before running on to the ancient and dust-filled carpet.

He felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment. He hadn't thrown up…ever. Not even the night Jasper and Evan had dared him to drink an entire bottle of tequila. Everyone—even the two who had dared him—had been shocked that he hadn't needed to be rushed to the hospital. His body had processed the alcohol without a problem, the only side effect being slight dizziness when he stood back up. Now, he knew, it was because of his inhuman metabolism.

Vomit, he decided, was gross. I should probably find something to clean that up. There would be cleaning supplies in Angel's room, he knew, if his father was still staying in the same suite. Stumbling a little bit—his stomach still lurching—he made his way down the hall to Angel's own room.

A wave of new smells washed over him as he opened the door, and he had to bite his lip to keep from throwing up again. His sense of smell had always been good but never this keen. What is up with me today? It was like this yesterday. All the lights are too bright, I'm hearing every noise way too loud. Everyone sounds like they're shouting when I know they're just talking normal. It was like a damper had been lifted from all his senses. Part of him was utterly confused by the changes, but another part of him recognized what it was to know the world this intimately…the part of him that was a predator, the part of him that was the Destroyer.

Connor reeled with the realization. He took a step, caught his toe on a lump in the carpet, and fell to his hands and knees. Closing his eyes, he just knelt there, fighting to get control of both his stomach and his thoughts. Everything was so chaotic in his head—too much stimuli. It's been like this since I smelled their blood—Mom's, Dad's, Rachel's. Somebody must have cast a spell over me…that's why I've got two sets of memories. The spell must have been broken when those demons killed my parents. "I hate magic," he whispered. The words sounded like a mantra in his mouth. In one life, it had been something he'd repeated over and over with loathing. In another, magic hadn't even been a factor in his life, not until he was nineteen. "I wish I'd never killed Sahjahn. I wish that car had never hit me!" he cried into the carpet, tears starting to run afresh down his cheeks.

He sobbed until he was spent, and then he rolled over on to his back and just lay there, feeling the air conditioning wash over him. He'd spent the night asleep in the park, out in the hot, sticky LA spring. After a night of that, AC was bliss. Or it would have been, if he hadn't felt so shitty.

The room smelled like his father, he realized, recognizing the smell of the vampire's hair gel, soap, and sweat. There was another scent, nearly as strong. Definitely female—flowery shampoo, perfumed soap…even her sweat smelled feminine to his newly awakened sense of smell. Cordelia, his mind supplied for him, and he felt his face flush. God, how embarrassing it had been when he'd seen her downstairs, and God, how beautiful she was. She was with his father now, he realized. Their scents were too intermingled in here for them not to be. The thought made his stomach clench with jealousy. She's mine! She carried my child. She swore she'd do anything for me. No, no, that couldn't have been her. That woman was evil. She made me sacrifice that girl… Connor let out a wail and rolled over on to his side, drawing his legs up to his chest.

The girl's face floated in the front of his mind, begging him to save her. A bloody hand on Cordelia's swollen belly. She was wearing black, ordering him to kill the girl. And Darla…Darla, his own mother, was there, in white and pink, pleading with him. His mother…his own, real mother who had loved him enough to die for him. And she had seen him kill an innocent. His nails dug into his knees, tearing the heavy fabric of his khakis and digging into his own flesh. The pain was sharp, but it wasn't enough to drown out the pain in his mind.

Light filled the room. Pure, brilliant, dazzling white light. Connor gasped and rolled over to face the source near the window. It flared brighter, blinding him. When his vision cleared, he saw that he wasn't the only one in the room. A woman in long white robes stood in front of the window, long red hair spilling in a fall of curls down her back. Slowly, he pushed himself up, frowning at her sudden appearance. That part of him that was the Destroyer was ready to fight, but the other half knew instinctively that this woman wasn't going to attack. At least not yet.

"Hello, Connor," she said. Her voice was disappointingly normal. After an entrance like that, he'd been expecting it to be more, well, memorable. Like thunder or bells or something spectacular like that. And, now that the little black spots had cleared completely from his vision, he saw that she was younger than he'd been expecting—about his age—and not as beautiful as he'd first thought. Sure, she was pretty, but in an average sort of way. She looked like she could be a kid from one of his lecture classes, just another face in a sea of two hundred. She got nothing on Cordelia. He squashed that thought down as soon as it popped up.

"Pretty fancy entrance," he commented, trying to play it cool as he got to his feet. "Who are you?"

"I'm Cassandra," she replied, "The Oracle. You can call me 'Cass'." She stuck her hand out.

He just looked at it.

"You're supposed to shake it," Cass said, holding it out closer to him. "I'm not going to bite."

Connor felt his ears go red, and he quickly clasped her hand. "I knew that. I…I just didn't expect someone like you to know that."

The Oracle snorted. "I may be a Higher Power, but I do get human contact from time to time. Well, more recently than the past thousand years or so, but that's not really relevant to situation at hand."

Bland face aside, she's got a personality. "I'm Connor," he introduced himself, "But I guess that you already knew that. Angel's downstairs, if you're looking for him."

"Actually, it's you I'm here for." Gathering her robes around her, she plopped down on the foot of his father's unmade bed. "Angel's already got a Higher Power working with him."

"Cordelia." The name jumped unbidden to his tongue, and the jealousy accompanied it.

"Got it in one. He's a tough case, so our boss thought she'd be the best one for the job—seeing as how she's close to him already."

"Yeah," he grumbled, "And I get stuck with you." Angel always got everything easy. So what if he'd been the Scourge of Europe, he still got the girl and the soul and the apparently infinite second chances. I screwed up once, and they turn my baby into Hell-spawn, steal my memories, and have my parents murdered.

"Hey! Watch your mouth, kid."

"Or what? You'll beat me up?" he sneered.

She snorted. "I could take you down without breaking a sweat, son of two vampires or no."

Connor bristled. "Yeah right."

Cass surged to her feet, her robes melting into khakis and a t-shirt as he watched. The change took only a split second, but his mind slowed the process for him so he could witness her white slippers morphing into tennis shoes identical to the ones on his feet. "Pick your weapon, punk."

"Who needs weapons?" He sank instinctively into a fighting stance. She was shorter than he was, so he'd have more leverage. Also, as a girl, she couldn't be as strong as he was…

He barely blocked her first punch, shifting so he took it on the meat of his upper arm instead of across his jaw. Ok, so she is almost as strong as I am... He blocked the second one with his hand, pushing her fist to the side and bringing his knee up to strike her in the ribs. She took the blow on the move, already skittering out of reach. The Oracle was ungodly fast, but then again, he wasn't human either. Connor tried a high kick to her head, but she ducked and rushed him, riding him down to the carpet.

He landed on his back, wrapped his arms around her middle, and rolled them over, attempting to pin her. She responded with a head-butt that made his vision blur for a second. The attack gave her enough time to yank one wrist free of his grip, and she clocked him on the side of the head with it. Connor rolled again, dragging Cass with him. Pulling his knee up under her chest, he tossed the Higher Power over his head and across the room. She hit the wall by the door with a crash but came down on her feet. He flipped himself upright and turned towards her just in time for her small hands to wrap around his neck. A growl rose up in the back of his throat, and he lashed out, catching her across the jugular. She started to gag as the door to the bedroom flew open.

"Connor!" Angel shouted. His father took two steps across the room, grabbed the Higher Power by the scruff of the neck, and tossed her over the bed as if she were no more than a rag doll. The Oracle landed on the bedside table, toppling it and shattering the lamp that was sitting on it.

Cordy was right behind him, rushing to Connor's side. "Connor, are you all right?"

Connor looked up at her, massaging his throat. He was going to have bruises later. "Yeah." The response came out mangled thanks to the damage to his windpipe, so he nodded, just in case she hadn't understood.

"Let me get you some ice," she clucked, moving across the room to the suite's little kitchen unit. "You're going to have one hell of a shiner later."

Angel, in the meantime, had gone over to the fallen Oracle, who had wisely chosen to stay where she landed and was now glaring up at the vampire from the floor. "Who are you, and what are you doing in my house?" Angel growled.

The Oracle cleared her throat. "My name is Cass, I'm a Higher Power, and I was sent here to help your son," she answered hoarsely.

Cordy froze at the words 'Higher Power'.

"By attacking him?" Angel yelled.

"Wait," Cordelia said, putting a hand on Angel's forearm to stay him. Connor felt the green-eyed monster grumble in his brain. "You look familiar," she said to Cass. "Gabriel sent you?"

The Oracle nodded. Slowly, seemingly unwilling to provoke Angel again, she eased herself up into a sitting position.

Connor moved forward and took the forgotten icepack from Cordy. His fingers brushed against hers, and a shiver shot down his spine. "Who's Gabriel?" he asked quietly.

"My boss," Cordy answered. "The Power That Be who's in charge of the Human Resources Department…you know, I've never understood why they call it that because like half of our charges aren't even human."

"I think it's because we're all working to the betterment of the human race, in the end," Cass suggested. She pushed herself to her feet, using the wall behind her. The movement made her wince. "Could somebody please remove the chunk of porcelain from my back?"

She turned, revealing that a shard from the lamp, about the size of Connor's palm, had embedded itself in her back, right beside her spine. The green t-shirt she wore, identical to his, was stained with fresh red blood. He could smell it, he realized. More than that, he could feel the rush of blood out of the arteries, the beating of her heart. It wasn't just her either—he could almost hear Cordy's heart and…Angel's? Frowning, he turned towards his father.

"You still haven't explained why you were trying to strangle Connor," Angel growled.

"It's…it's ok, Dad," Connor said, stepping forward. "I picked a fight with her. She was just trying to defend herself." He stuffed the icepack into his pocket and touched the shard gently. She sucked in a sharp breath. "This is in deep," he informed her quietly.

"I know," she whispered. "I can't heal with it in."

Carefully, he closed his other fingers around it, trying not to jiggle it too much. She gritted her teeth, bracing herself against the wall. "I'll make it quick," he promised, and then yanked.

Fresh, warm blood splattered across his face and chest as the piece of the lamp came free. Cass sank to her knees, her hands dragging down the wallpaper. Cordelia bumped him aside with her hip and dropped down beside the Oracle, pressing something—a shirt maybe—against the wound.

Connor took a step back, into his father. Angel's hands came down protectively on his shoulders. "You ok?"

Connor nodded. "You?"

"I don't like to see people trying to strangle you."

"That's good to know." He turned his attention back to the two women. Cordy's hands were glowing as she applied pressure to the wound. On a human, a cut that deep wound have probably been fatal. Odds were, a piece of the lamp had nicked an organ, but he didn't sense any life seeping from Cass, just blood and even the flow of that was ebbing as Cordelia healed the gash. Now was as good a time as any to ask. "Um…Dad, your heart's beating. I don't remember it doing that before."

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A/N: And so begins our crossover with my other Angel fic "Dea Ex Machina". It shouldn't be necessary to have read it yet, but if you want to know where Cass came from, that would be the place to look. The link is in my profile.