AN: This story was originally written to be part of a drabble collection focusing on the thoughts of the people left behind in the aftermath of the Angel final. The collection was to be jointly written with 'Catalyst'. The idea has since been scrapped and this was my only finished contribute.

This fic exists in the same universe as my fic 'Conversations at Midday' though chronologically I'm not entirely sure when it happens. Most likely, before Connor goes to visit Cordy's grave and series wise about a week after 'Not Fade Away'. The idea came from one of my favourite quotes from Not fade Away which are not so cleverly-at-all imbedded in the fic.

Thanks to: All you nice people who read and reviewed 'Conversations at Midday' especially those asking for a sequel.

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He traces the thick letters that look like they were done in with a calligraphy pen but he watched form under a ball point as a low voice bantered back with him. Connor's fingers go swooping and flying over the curls and tails of his name then surname. Alone in his room he looks down at the paper with details of him that are not always real, and he thinks-

"Have you ever written a resumé before? Ever?"

"No…but I have very nice handwriting"


"You girl."

- that he really should write up his actual resumé. It was supposed to be done yesterday but instead he hasn't left his room for a few days and his roommates are worried. He looks at his silly little fake resumé on lined paper with ballpoint pen calligraphy. Created with a smirk as Connor solemnly regurgitated his skills and knowledge that was dutifully copied down. He'd given Connor advice of what interviewers liked to hear. It was like Dad talk. It-

It's a testament really. He holds the paper above his head and stares up at it. His last reminder of something he can't remember when he wants to and can remember in his nightmares.

He has had three fathers. He has loved three fathers. He has lost three fathers. Not even one of his fathers taught him how to bring them back. They are all gone in any sense of the word, fallen to death and disillusion and dust.

He knows. He knows vampires leave no bodies. He knows that when they die they go to hell. Except he knows that isn't true because he knows he lived in hell once long ago. He's heard the screams. He learnt to hunt and kill and defend from the beasts and the demons and the fallen Angels. He grew up under a sky filled in flames and was taught to love Jesus.

He remembers his first lessons from his father,

(How to tie you shoes. How to kill vampires like your old man. They're like your old man.)

had been bible stories recited from memory. One had been the Ten Commandments that God had given to Moses written on two stone tablets. They were the rules for God's people and even in hell where they couldn't follow the church they could follow God's law.

Say the Lord's pray (Our Father which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name. Thy Kingdom come. Thy will be done…) and follow the commandments

THOU SHALT NOT…

Except he knows he's broken so many that his soul must be stained beyond even the loving repair of Jesus. He's destined for hell except, well, the voices say 'been there, done that, got the T-Shirt'.

Some times he wants to be able to pray again believe in love and the lie.

Sometimes…

Some times he hates vampires. Sometimes he loves Cordelia. Other times he wonders where she is. Other times he wonders who she is. Sometimes all he knows about are real life matters and Dawson's Creek love triangles and feels a semblance of normality

Sometimes he knows how to fight and how to kill and he feels a semblance of normality.

And sometimes he knows he is insane. He has to be because ever since he met Angel he's been three people in one body. And ever since he met Angel life's been wrong and his father's murder goes un-avenged and Cordy doesn't love him. And ever since, he knows...

Sometimes he dreams about lullabies sung in a rich accent and he feels safe for once.

Sometimes he thinks about his mother singing him lullabies and reading him Peter Rabbit and tries to believe it was real. He tries to forget his whole life is a lie.

And sometimes he knows...what?

He knows Wolverine could so totally beat Batman in a fight. He knows how to use crossbows and knives and swords and pikes and axes. He knows he's a sinner and he's broken the sixth commandment too carelessly.

He knows that Vampires don't leave bodies.

He's watched his father die and he knows now that Justine killed him. He watches his father head off for work and he knows that a magician merely made that man his father. He knows it isn't real.

He's watched his father fight, watched him win at impossible odds in a building collapsing around him. He watched a monster's eyes light up just to see him, Connor, alive and well and fighting on his side.

He knows that without a doubt Angel is dead.

So what does he have? He has the memories of a crazed killer. He has a fantasy world that's wrong because he paid attention to the man behind the curtain and the wonder of Oz has been destroyed. He has this resumé that was written out is fancy curly script of a dead long dead man. He has the voices in his head and they all agree he's a Looney Toon.

And he has himself:

Mild mannered, Clark Kent, All around average American Collegiate,

Superman, Super hearing, Super speed, Super strength, son of two vampires;

Psychotic, murdering, raging, suicidal, worshiper at the feet of a graven idol of rotting flesh, who kills without mercy or feeling.

Steven.

Connor.

He keeps reading the resume even though the sun is gone and his room is dark. His eyes are funny like that and the dark means nothing because he's a, he doesn't know what. Just that whatever it is it has to be evil. Voices don't scream in your head when you're good.

The voices scream and he doesn't sleep.

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Love and Kisses

-GM