CHAPTER FIVE

That's the greatest torture souls feel in hell,
In hell: that they must live, and cannot die."
The Duchess of Malfi - John Webster

Angel was not a big believer in fate or karma or anything along those lines but maybe he could be convinced otherwise tonight. He never wanted to believe that the sins of the father would be visited on the son, because what supreme being could be so cruel as to want such a thing? Tonight he had proof that it was possible that sort of harshness was the way of the universe.

Faith put a hand on his shoulder. "It's not your fault, Angel. You did everything you could."

His jaw clenched. He would not cry in front of her. Angel knew Faith had seen him cry before on the Orpheus trip but he wouldn't break down here. "I didn't do enough. Connor was in so much pain and I didn't see...I failed him again, just like always."

"He took the easy way out, Angel. Just like I tried to do." Her voice was thick with self-loathing. "I know what it's like to be that low and so do you. We all got our second chances, third chances and then some." Faith waved a hand at the bed Angel was sitting vigil next to. "He'll get his."

Angel looked at his son. Connor's skin had faded to the same white-grey of recycled paper and seemed just as thin. Lilith, Minuet's Watcher, headed up a small private hospital. Abingdon House specialized in treating maladies and traumas that befell Watchers thanks to their rather high risk life styles. Lilith had escaped the fate so many Watchers had met at the hands of the First and Angel was beyond grateful for the fates working his way for once.

After Connor had received two units of whole blood, with two more in Lilith's careful hands, he was transferred to the Watchers' 'hospital.' Lilith had cast a memory spell on the staff of the public hospital Connor had been taken to first and Minuet did a number on the computer records. Connor Reilly had never been admitted as a suicide attempt. The Reillys in New York would not be contacted.

Angel had been holding his son's hand for hours, trying to convince himself that Connor still clung to life, even if he was comatose. He remembered seeing Buffy in a similar state after he had guzzled her down to save his own life. He could recall how fragile Faith had been laying in a hospital bed and how he had wanted her dead then for making him hurt Buffy. There were other times with other friends and putting them all together, they barely made him ache like this did. He had invested too much of himself into his son, if that were possible. Parents were supposed to put their children above themselves, right?

Angel didn't know the answer to that. All he knew was his son could still die, that the young man wanted death and that it had taken a good deal to convince Lilith that Connor belonged here in the Watchers' hospital and not in the psychiatric intensive care unit. Angel's arguments that Connor's vampire-level strength made him ill-suited for a human hospital and that the Watchers employed good psychiatrists who knew demons were real and wouldn't think Connor insane should he talk about them did much to sway the woman.

Angel was doing the only thing he wanted to do, sit with his child, hold his hand and try to pretend he didn't see the four point restraints that bound down the boy's arms and ankles. Lilith had opted for a binding spell in lieu of the regular restraints as a nod to Connor's strength and her desire to not put any pressure on his healing wrists. The mystical restraints glowed blue around Connor's limbs. Angel tried to ignore the fluffy white gauze that encircled Connor's slender wrists, tuned out the bleep of the heart monitor, and tried not to look at the IV bag full of blood that was dripping slowly into a vein.

Connor was breathing on his own, with the little oxygen tubing supplementing his air but that was all he appeared to be doing. Angel wondered if there was anything left inside his son that could fight. He had lost so much blood the doctor's feared he could be brain damaged. Angel could only hope that like the Slayers, his son would come out of this coma. He just wished it would happen faster than it had for Faith.

Faith's strong fingers rubbed Angel's neck as if she could squeeze the tension out of him. "Can I do something for you, Angel? Round you up some pig's blood or something?"

He shook his head, his eyes straying unbidden to the blood bag. "I'll be fine, Faith. I just need to sit here with him."

"Well, maybe you should try talking to him. I remember snatches of stuff from when I was in a coma, not that anyone bothered to come talk to me," she said, bitterly.

"What should I say to him?" The sharp edge in Angel's voice drew blood. "All I can think about is how I obviously didn't do enough for him."

Her fingers dug in. "Do not say that shit. I dunno, tell him about that ballet you dragged me to last weekend or the art walk we went on. Just don't make it sound like we're dating because you know, that'll just get back to Buffy and even though she's too busy pretending she doesn't want either you or Spike, she'd kick my ass if she thought you were putting it to me. Really, I don't get why she doesn't just move in like a threesome with you and Spike. It's not like you guys aren't used to living that way with Darla and Dru, right?"

Angel rolled his eyes. "Faith, I'm not telling my son about the group his mother and I had. Or threesomes I could have in the future. We can avoid me having sex totally as a topic."

Faith batted him on the back of the head. "I didn't tell you to tell him about you having sex. I said tell him about the art show. You could tell him I didn't miss how fighting with me got him all hot and sweaty and it'll be pretty damn hard for him to make a play for me in a coma. The magical restraints, however..."

"Faith!" Angel glared at her but she looked unrepentant. He knew she was trying to lighten his mood but she didn't quite have the tools to do it.

She crossed her arms. "Okay, how about you tell him how I'm gonna wheel Spike out in the sun just to see you smile."

Angel smiled tightly. "He might enjoy that. Connor's not much on the undead."

"Or how about telling him about what a prick his roommate is. I'd bet he'd wake up just to agree with you," Faith said.

Angel smirked, taking her hand. "Thanks, Faith. I'd let him pick any topic he wanted if he just wakes up...except the sex one."

"Aren't dads supposed to give the sex lecture? Wasn't Holtz like a Puritan or something?" Faith squeezed his hand then let go. "Bet Connor missed right out on that."

"I asked Cordelia to do that for me," Angel said, woefully.

"Talk about miscalculations." Faith shuddered.

Angel leaned over to run a hand over Connor's hair. "That was one of the worst ones I made. I did so little for him and I couldn't tell you why." Angel glanced up at Faith, tears standing in his eyes. "I did more for you, Faith, than I ever did for my own son."

She looked at him, deeply pained.

"Not that I regret a thing I did for you. I don't. You tried to kill me and hurt Buffy and I helped you without hesitation." Angel turned his gaze back to his son. "He tried to kill me and hadn't laid a finger on anyone I loved and I threw him out. I left my teenaged son on the streets of Los Angeles with nothing."

"Why?" Her voice was the barest of whispers. Her eyes held a look of disbelief and disappointment.

Angel's jaw clenched. "Because I wanted the same thing my father wanted when he threw me out, for him to crawl back to me and say how much he needed me to be his father. I wanted to be the one in control, because I'm the same self-righteous bastard my father was."

"From some of the things Connor said when we went Angelus hunting, I think he might be third generation in that vein," Faith said.

Angel laughed mirthlessly. "I know. Between his inherited self-righteous tendencies and all the high-handed moralism Holtz spoon-fed him, Connor never stood a chance." He took Connor's hand again. "Maybe that's it, Faith. Maybe I was so disappointed that I got back Holtz's son and not mine that I just closed myself off to him."

"I can't imagine you being closed off to anyone." Faith put a hand on his shoulder.

"Oh, I can be and I was. I told him how much he was loved but I never showed him. What good are words without actions to back them up? Maybe it wouldn't have helped if I had acted like I loved him. He had a life time of hatred in him. Maybe nothing could burn that out." Angel wiped at the tears that spilled down his cheeks.

"Bullshit. I was filled with it, Angel, and you pulled me free of that," Faith said, her eyes glinting fiercely.

"Then why have I failed him so miserable?"

"He's still alive. The fight ain't over, big guy." Faith made a face. "Damn, I sound like a cheerleader."

He sighed. "I appreciate it though, Faith. When he was just a baby, I made him the center of my world. I would have done anything for him. Even when he first came back, all I could think about was him. I was so proud of how he could handle himself in a fight. I tried to make him at home in the hotel, tried to figure out what would be best for him, tried to give him things I thought he'd like but it didn't work. I knew he was in shock from Holtz giving me that letter, telling him to live with me. I didn't know at the time it was a set up and Connor...I don't think he realizes it yet. Still, even before Holtz had himself killed, Connor wasn't happy with being with us."

"Well, he did just come out of hell, Angel. He probably needed some adjusting time." Faith touched Angel's shoulder comfortingly. "Did you ask what he wanted from you?"

Angel shook his head. "I didn't think he'd know. I mean, what did he know about this world." Angel blew out a long puff of air. "I didn't even think to ask him, Faith. What he wanted didn't matter. I had this idealized version of what he'd be and what he'd want in my head and I tried to force him to be that boy."

"Up until he dumped you in the ocean, I'm guessing." Her calloused hand caressed his shoulders

"Good guess. It changed everything. I never forgave him for what he did. Even when I knew he was lying on the streets, sleeping under a stinking rag, I didn't even try to help him. I stopped being his dad. Even when I knew Cordelia was staying with him, I didn't step in until it was too late and then I wasn't a father. I was a jealous boyfriend out to punish a rival."

"I think you're being too hard on yourself, Angel. I mean, it was probably not as black and white as you're making it sound, and what Connor did to you...that's a big thing to try and forgive," Faith said.

"How many vampires have you killed, Faith, and enjoyed it? Connor didn't see me as his father, just as another vampire to be punished. I'm the one who should have tried harder to get past the hardness in him. It's nothing to be a dad when the kid's doing okay. The real test of being a parent is dealing with the child when he's hurting or when he's done wrong and I failed it." Angel's head snapped up as he heard a change in the sounds coming from the heart monitor. He squeezed his son's hand. "Connor, son, can you hear us?"

Connor took a ragged breath in and his eyes opened. Angel wasn't sure he was seeing anything, his gaze wild and seemingly unfocused. He tightened his grip on Connor's cold, clammy hand and those blue eyes flicked over to him. He watched his child's face crack and crumble like one of Dru's china dolls. Connor tugged on his bonds then shuddered head to toe as tears flooded his eyes, spilling over the dam. "Why?" he sobbed.

"Oh, Connor," Angel couldn't keep his voice steady.

"I just...wanted it...to end," he rasped. "Why did you..."

"We couldn't let you go, son. There's too many people here who love you, who'd never be able to repair the hole your death would leave," Angel said, feeling Faith's hand on his back. He didn't have to see to know she was trying to give Connor an encouraging look.

Connor shook his head. "Can't...can't live like this."

"Then tell us what's wrong and we'll help you fix it. It's not too late," Angel said.

"Can't fix me," he murmured, breaking every heart in hearing distance.

"You don't know that," Faith said. "I never thought anyone could fix me, either, Connor. I tried to make your dad take me out and he wouldn't. He made me see even I could be fixed and I sort of am."

Connor trembled uncontrollably. "That's different."

"Yeah, I'm the one who fucked me up," Faith said, sternly. "You had a lot of help."

He made a sound between strangled laugh and sob. "I'm so fucked up."

"And part of that is my fault," Angel said and Connor turned his face away from him. The vampire twisted, glancing up at Faith. "Go get Lilith and the doctor please, Faith." She nodded and he turned back to his son. "It's the spell, isn't it, Connor? It's not like some dream to you."

"It is...and that's the problem," he grated out. "Oh, god, I'm so cold."

Angel tucked the covers up to his son's chin and made sure his hands were covered up. "You lost so much blood, Connor. They're putting it back in you but you're going to be cold for a while." He sat on the edge of the bed. "You're in a private hospital for Watchers. The Reillys don't know yet that you're here. No one but the people here know you tried to kill yourself." Angel stroked Connor's sweat-slicked hair off his forehead. How could anyone so cold be sweating so much? "Minuet, another Slayer and Faith went back and washed away the blood and...let's just say no one at the hospital will remember you being brought in."

"More damn magic," Connor sneered, his eyes like hard blue marbles.

Angel's lips thinned and he decided to let that pass. "I'm sorry...Connor, I...I wish you would have told me you were hurting so much. I would have tried to help."

His blue eyes squeezed shut then flew back open. "Make me forget again...give me to strangers?"

The agony in Connor's voice twisted the knife in Angel's heart and the vampire couldn't stop the tears pouring down his face. He shielded his emotions behind his hands.

"Angel...Dad?" Connor's voice was tremulous.

Angel dropped his hands. "You said you were grateful. Was that a lie?"

Connor shut his eyes. "Not then, no...I know...you tried, Dad. But now I'm not one thing or the other. I can't sort myself out and I can't live like this...neither fish nor fowl."

"I can help you, Connor. At least let me try. You've been through too much for it to end here," Angel said, earnestly.

Connor's chest heaved but no sound passed his lips. His hand fumbled under the covers his father had just tucked over his hands and Angel flipped up a corner so he could take his son's hand. "If I did my tricks with smoke and mirrors... would you still know which one was me, because I wouldn't, Dad. My lives aren't meshing and everyone knows it...they know something's wrong with me. My parents barely talk to me...left me here and moved across the country. They don't...Rose, my sister, isn't allowed to talk to me. They think it's drugs...but they know deep down, I don't fit. I'm inherently wrong."

"Then you can come back with me," Angel said, excitement in his voice. "Maybe we could find a way to make it work."

Connor shook his head again, his eyes sunken and dim. "Too tired, Dad. I've got nothing left."

"You do," Angel assured him. "You just don't know it yet."

Connor just wept silently. Angel got up and took the tissue box off the night stand. He wiped his son's face then sat back in the chair next to the bed.

"Sleep now, Connor. Just rest. When you're stronger, we'll talk about what we can do together. You don't have to be alone with this and I'm sorry that you ever thought that you were alone. I know that's my fault, that I needed to do more. We'll worry about that later. For now, you just rest and let us take care of you." Angel wanted to hear his son say he would. Connor just shut his eyes, drifting away back into unconsciousness, his body shaking from the trauma it had endured.

Even though he had been denied reassurance, Angel had no intentions of giving up now.