Chapter Four—Conversations With Dead People
No one said anything for a long beat, just kept staring at each other, frozen in place. Buffy seemed unsure of where to place her gaze, eyes flickering between the two vampires before finally settling on Connor. "Who's this?"
Giles cleared his throat. "Buffy, this is Connor." He turned his head to quickly glance at Angel before turning back towards the Slayer. "He is…with Angel."
Buffy just nodded. She sighed and looked at Spike, a pained expression on her face. "I'll deal with you later." She faced Angel, trying to mask her trepidation by being all-business. "We need to talk."
Angel didn't say anything, just turned to look at Connor, eyes raised in question.
"I'll be ok." To this, Angel nodded and silently followed Buffy out of the room. Connor noticed that Angel had very carefully avoided looking at Spike.
"Right, then. I'm off." Spike stormed out of the room without further explanation.
Giles was fumbling with a bit of papers on his desk, arranging them in the way that people do when they were nervous. "So…do you want to get settled in your room? I'm afraid we only have two empty rooms available, so you will have to share the space with your…father."
Connor nodded, not voicing aloud that he figured the vampires would probably rather bunk together. He looked pointedly at Giles, attempting to stave off further questions. "After that, I think I'm going to go find Spike."
He knew that Giles had many questions about him, but he didn't want to endure another Q&A session following upon the heels of the revealing conversation they had just had. And, Angel's obvious animosity towards Giles made him ill at ease with the older man. He assumed Spike would be out getting himself nice and drunk. Connor figured he could use a drink or five at this point. Who knew what Angel would be like when he returned.
It didn't take him long to find Spike, his scent now very familiar. He hadn't wandered far from the safe house, apparently entering the first bar he came across. He was seated at the bar, hunched down around a very big glass of whiskey. "Not looking for company right now, junior."
"Too bad." Connor slid onto the stool beside the vampire. The bartender wandered over looking to take his order. "Um…whiskey?"
"Desiderate il ghiaccio?"
Connor just stared back at him in confusion. "I…uh…I don't speak Italian." The bartender tilted his head in incomprehension.
"He wants to know if you want ice, luv." Spike answered with a bit of a fond smile.
"Oh. No. No ice." The bartender nodded and poured his drink, plunking the glass in front of Connor, waiting expectantly.
"È su me." Apparently Spike's response had satisfied the bartender and he walked off.
"You speak Italian?" Connor tentatively sipped at his drink, grimacing a bit at the fiery taste.
"Do now. After Broody mocked me for only knowing demon languages. Like he knows many demon languages." He knocked back a bit of his drink and shook his head. "I dunno, thought maybe it'd be useful if I ever ended up here again." His eyes dropped to the bar and he looked like he was settling into a good brood himself. "Also, had to find a way to kill time back at Wolfram and Hart. Well, besides the usual, that is." He finished his drink, indicating to the bartender to bring another for him and Connor.
"What was the usual?"
"Annoying the piss out of Angel." Spike rolled his glass between his hands, sloshing the amber liquid inside. "Which was a full time job, mind you, and the reason why I can't really speak Italian worth a damn." He seemed to darken at the mention of the other vampire.
Connor silently watched him for a bit before speaking. "So, you thought you'd come back here someday? For her?" The only response he received was stony silence. "You afraid she's going to choose him?" Connor didn't voice aloud the second question, whether or not Spike was worried that Angel would choose her, suspecting the answer lay somewhere in between the two.
"You know what?" Spike threw his head back, draining the glass and slamming it down on the bar with force. "You talk an awful lot for someone whose father's a taciturn vampire."
"Sorry…I'm really sorry." Connor did indeed feel regretful, not wanting to invoke the ire of one of his few allies in Rome.
Spike sighed and shot him an apologetic frown. "No, I'm sorry, pet. Just not up for talking about it." He flipped his eyes towards Connor. "You seem to be holding up ok. How is this not weird for you?"
Connor let out a shaky laugh. "Oh, trust me. It's weird. It's weirder than weird." He took a sip from his glass. "But, my whole life is weird. I have two sets of parents, two whole separate lives. In one, my dad's treasurer of the PTA and was head coach of my high school soccer team and my mom is the Girl Scout leader of my sister's troop. Meanwhile, my real dad is a vampire who couldn't even come to any of my soccer games if he wanted to since he would burst into flames. And, in less than one year's time I went from helping to bring forth a goddess that held the whole world in her thrall to being on the honor roll at Stanford."
Spike gaped at him, astonished, before breaking into a grin. "You know, I think I actually like you, Slim, Which is a bit of a shock, really, considering I've spent most of my unlife hating your da with a fiery passion." He smiled at his own joke.
Connor rolled his eyes. "I know you don't hate him." Spike just scoffed at him and shook his head. "And I know he doesn't hate you, either."
"And that, Ducks, is enough on that." He threw down enough lira on the bar to cover their drinks and stood abruptly, exiting the bar. Connor finished his own drink before following him out.
There was no sign of Angel or Buffy back at the safe house, and pretty much everyone else seemed to be huddled in the den watching TV. Everyone else being a whole lot of Slayers. Some gave Spike looks of vague recognition, but Connor didn't know any of them. Spike flopped down next to two of them on the couch and Connor took a place on the floor, opposite. The girls next to Spike were giggling and braiding each other's hair.
"Aiden is totally dreamy." Asian slayer with big eyes.
"He's not as hot as Big." Red head.
"I think Carrie's totally going to end up with Big." Blonde sitting in front of them on the floor.
"No way! He's too fickle. He'll never commit to her." Red head again.
"That's why she likes him, luv." Spike decided to enter the debate and soon they were all sharing their thoughts the show.
Connor could smell Angel before he entered the room and knew Spike did, too, by the way he was anxiously eyeing the doorway. Angel pretty much looked like a wreck. He was clearly coming to check up on Connor, his eyes zeroing in on him and then glancing quickly over to Spike before turning to leave. Spike tried to halt him, indicating towards the empty seat on the couch next to him. Angel seemed to hesitate a bit before sinking down next to the other vampire.
"You alright then?" He heard Spike whisper to his father in a voice low enough that none of the other humans would notice.
Angel for his part just ignored him, pretending to focus what was going on the small screen. After a little while, it became apparent that he was actually trying to figure out what they were watching. "What is this show?"
"Oh my God!" Have you been living in a cave or something? You've never seen 'Sex In The City' before?" Asian girl.
"He's pretty much culturally retarded." Spike smacked Angel on the arm. Connor couldn't help but notice that the smaller vampire was slyly sliding down on the couch, moving his leg so that it was touching Angel's. Angel allowed the touch for a brief moment before sitting up taller in his seat, moving away from the other and putting his hands on his knees. Spike seemed to follow, sitting wider to allow their knees to fall together. He slid his own hand down his leg, meeting Angel's, their fingers all but entwined for an instant before Angel stood hastily and stalked out of the room. Connor caught Spike's wounded look, tracking Angel's retreat. He felt Connor's gaze and ducked his head, embarrassed, before turning back with a feigned interest at the small screen. Connor watched him for a moment before following his father out of the room.
"I'm sorry, but I'm not even going to pretend that I'm happy about seeing Dead boy again." Connor didn't recognize the male voice he heard coming from the kitchen.
"Good to see you, too, Xander." Connor saw that Angel was talking to a man with an eye patch. The man was seated at the table with Giles. Angel stood facing them, leaning against the sink awkwardly. All eyes turned to look at Connor as he entered.
"Um…hey." He fixed his gaze on his father. "I was thinking of going on a walk." He fidgeted nervously. "Wanna come?"
"Sure." Angel seemed intensely relieved and followed him out.
Connor heard the eye-patch man ask "Who the hell was that?" but they were downstairs before the answer came. The night was warm and it felt good to be outside. They walked along in companionable silence for a bit, Connor taking in the surroundings. Rome was beautiful and he hadn't had a chance to explore yet. He turned towards his father. "So…are you ok?"
"Yeah. Fine." Angel seemed closed off but a bit more relaxed than he had been indoors.
"Can I ask you something, dad?" Connor tracked his father's gaze, watching a bunch of tourists who had gathered around a group of street performers.
"Sure. What's up?" Angel turned back to face him.
"Why are we staying there?" Something inscrutable crossed Angel's eyes. "'Cause we can stay and go as we please, and it doesn't seem to be the best place…" Angel just shrugged. "Is it because of her?"
Angel sighed. "Yeah. I guess." He shoved his hands in his pockets, seemingly doleful. "I think I have a bit of a streak of masochism in me."
"A bit?"
Angel smiled. "I guess we could look for an apartment nearby. We do need their protection, but maybe it'd be better for us all if we weren't staying under the same roof. Does being there upset you?"
Connor shrugged. "No…well, that Giles guy does kind of freak me out a bit. I really don't like him. But, it doesn't seem like you and Spike are all that comfortable there."
"Giles is a good man, actually. Him and me just don't see eye to eye." He looked over at Connor guiltily. "Guess me horribly killing his girlfriend and then torturing him for hours tends to put a damper on any chance of a friendship." Connor stared at him, eyes bugging a bit. "I was evil at the time."
Connor let out a nervous chuckle. He scanned the night, taking in the surroundings. He thought he recognized the place they were heading to from the travel book he had picked up for the trip. "So…how did your talk with Buffy go?"
Angel took in an unneeded breath. "Well, she's not cookies, yet." When Connor just gaped at him in confusion, he continued. "She's not ready for a relationship. But, you know what the funny part is?" He turned towards Connor almost like he was waiting for an answer even though the question had been rhetorical. "That's not the part that's eating at me. What I feel bad about is, even if she had been ready, I'm not. And, I hate hurting her. I know it doesn't make any sense, but I feel guilty about that. Before, it was me waiting on her. She could count on that; the someday factor. Now she knows that maybe someday won't come. At least not for a long time." He sounded glum.
"Well, you said you're in a different place now."
"I still love her. That never changes. But, it's different now. I'm different." They had stopped, gazing down from the top of the Spanish steps.
"This is beautiful." Connor saw a couple of artists were seated, sketching the fountain at the base of the steps. He sat down and indicated to Angel to follow him. "So…what about Spike?"
Angel shrugged. "What about Spike?"
"I like him."
Angel gawked at him. "You do?"
"Yeah…he's funny." He gave Angel a lopsided grin. "And, you have to admit, he kinda throws a little light onto your brood." Angel was staring at him, incredulous. "Besides, it's not good to be alone."
Angel watched him for a long beat, and when he spoke his voice was soft. "You've changed a lot, you know?"
"Oh, you mean about the part where I'm not trying to kill you anymore?"
"That's just part of it." His eyes roamed the square in front of them before straying back to Connor, placing a hand on his son's shoulder. "I'm really proud of the man that you've become."
Connor bit his lip, trying to stave off the ever-present ball of guilt that gnawed at his stomach. He gulped and looked at his father nervously. "Dad…there's something I need to tell you." He could feel the tears building in his eyes and he blinked rapidly, trying to diffuse them. "It's bad."
"It's ok, Connor, you can tell me anything."
Connor closed his eyes, bracing himself before speaking. "My mother came to me once."
"Darla?" Angel's eyebrows were knit in bewilderment. "You saw Darla?"
"Yeah…she came to me. Or at least, something that looked like her." He quickly glanced over at Angel before returning to stare at the ground. "She was trying to get me from doing… something really bad."
Angel dropped his hand from Connor's shoulder. "What do you mean?"
He let out a unsteady breath. "Cordy told me that we needed a girl. For our baby. For Jasmine." His voice hitched. "Darla was trying to get me to let her go. And, I almost believed her. But then, Cordy saw Darla too, and told me that you had sent her just to mess with me. That you hated me that much." A heavy tear slipped down his cheek, unbidden.
"God…Connor. I would never do that. I never hated you!" Angel put his hand back on Connor's shoulder, trying to comfort him.
"I didn't even know her name." He began to cry. "I didn't even know the girl's name, dad. And, I let Cordy kill her. I could have saved her, but instead, I dragged her to her death." He was openly weeping now.
Angel was silent for a long moment before pulling Connor into his arms. "Oh God, Connor. I'm so sorry…"
"How do you do it, dad? How do you ever get over it?" He had fisted his hand in Angel's shirt, holding on for dear life.
"You don't get over it, son. You never do. You never should." Strong hands were rubbing Connor's shoulders. "Jesus. I never wanted you to have this kind of pain." He let out a sigh. "I wish I could take this from you."
Connor just sobbed in his father's arms. "I'm so sorry, dad. Oh God. I'm so sorry."
Angel tucked Connor under his chin. "I know, son. I know."
"Do you hate me now?" He was afraid of the answer.
"I would be the biggest hypocrite in the world if I did." He straightened so he could look Connor in the eyes. "I love you son. I've always loved you, always will. You know that, don't you?"
Connor nodded, eyes dropping again. "I know, dad." He sniffled and wiped at his cheeks, sighing deeply. "I wish I had something big and ugly to hit."
Angel brushed the hair from Connor's brow. "I think I know of a place…" He stood, holding out a hand to help his son up. "La città dei morti." Off of Connor's baffled look he translated. "The City of the Dead." He started walking down the steps. "Over five hundred years ago, an elite group of vampires created a city here in Rome. A whole city, complete with their own system of government and everything. Not just anyone could enter, though—you had to be invited in. Not that I would have joined them. Angelus wasn't all that big on the teamwork."
Connor smirked at him. "They didn't invite you, did they?"
"No." Angel smiled back. "So, they won't let us inside. Plus, they kill any humans that enter, so that leaves you out. But, they do go out on patrol, bring back kills." He shot a glance at Connor. "We could catch some of them on the hunt."
"Sounds like a plan."
They did in fact catch five of them. As they walked back to the safe house, Connor was surprised how relaxed that he felt, comfortable for the first time since arriving in Rome. He could tell Angel felt the same by the silly grin he was sporting. Their good moods were broken, however, when a frantic Spike met them as soon as they entered, clearly waiting for them. He grabbed at Angel's hand and Angel allowed this, Spike's obvious need for comfort winning out over the usual self-censure he exhibited in front of Connor. Spike reeked of beer and Buffy, and was visibly distraught. Angel's face softened in sympathy, and he glanced up at his son in wordless apology.
Connor shook his head in understanding, and he hooked a thumb behind him. "I'm just gonna go watch some tv." Angel nodded in response before turning his attention back to the bereft and broken vampire.
A soft blue glow was emanating from the darkened den, and he could make out some of the conversation that was coming from the screen. The room had largely been vacated, that Xander guy was crashed out on the couch, snuggled up next to a young woman with light brown hair that Connor hadn't met before. They were both fast asleep. The coffee table was littered with empty beer bottles, clear evidence of Spike's earlier binge. He did however recognize the brunette who sat near the open window, cigarette in hand.
"You must be that kid that Angel brought." Faith flicked an ash out the window. "Spike find 'em?"
"Yeah, he did." Connor crossed over to her, holding out his hand. "I'm Connor."
"Faith." She looked exactly the same, and he felt his stomach do a little flip at that. He had liked her before; she was the only human that had ever been able to put him in his place, wasn't afraid of him. She swung her legs around so that she was facing him. "Don't know what Spike's deal was. I thought he hated Angel. But seriously, I thought the dude was going to rip his fingernails out if Angel didn't get back soon."
Connor shrugged, sitting on the edge of an armchair nearest to Faith. "I guess they're all they have left."
Faith sighed. "Yeah. Heard about that. Jesus." She took a puff of her cigarette. "Don't understand why Angel didn't call us. Call me."
"He'd probably just say it wasn't your fight. He's kinda stupid like that." Connor gave her a small smile.
"Real stupid. I coulda helped." She shook her head in disbelief.
Connor glanced at the tv, surprised at what he saw. "You're watching 'Interview with a Vampire?' Don't you get enough of that crap in the workplace?"
"Yeah, I know, I know. Ann Rice has obviously never met a real vampire and Tom Cruise is terrible as Lestat, but Brad Pitt is just sooo pretty." She smirked at him and flicked her cigarette out the window. "But, I know how it ends." She held out the remote to him. "Watch what you want."
He yawned tiredly, jet lag finally settling in. "Nah, I think I'm heading to bed." He walked out towards the small room that he had claimed earlier, not at all surprised that he wouldn't have to share it with Angel after all.
È su me—It's on me