Revelations

It was the sound of a glass breaking somewhere deeper in the house which finally roused him from his sleep. Apparently, he hadn't bothered to remove his clothes last night and had toppled over onto the bed, landing with his legs tucked under him and his neck in an awkward position. He needed to stop waking up like this. From his vantage point he could see that somehow he had managed to remove one of his shoes, abandoning it near the door. His head felt heavy and a dull throb was bumping near his temple.

And, he was alone.

He looked around as if to find her, instantly regretting the movement, trying to piece together the end of the previous evening. He remembered entering the house with Faith, their attempts at silence thwarted by the exaggerated movements of the very drunk. He remembered trying to kiss her, mouths competing for domination as they blindly stumbled through the entranceway. Beyond that, everything was a blur. He didn't pick up her scent anywhere in the room, so he assumed they had both crashed separately.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, wincing in surprise at the sharp pain near his upper thigh. He stared down at his leg and saw a small hole in his jeans right above his knee. In the midst of their drunken groping, the sword they had recovered from behind the dumpster had punctured his skin, effectively forestalling any further advances. He crossly kicked at the sword and it skittered across the floor, lodging underneath the dresser.

After a blessedly (and rare) hot shower, he quickly and quietly returned to his room. Lately, he had been feeling the walls of the safe house too confining and he wanted more and more to spend time outdoors and away from the others. He hastily pulled a t-shirt over his head and shimmied into slightly dirty jeans, hoping to make it out of the safe house before anyone was the wiser. He opened the door and glanced down the hallway, letting out a whoosh of relief when no one was in sight. He crept slowly along the corridor, trying for as much stealth as possible. He barely paused in front of Angel and Spike's room, only hearing vague muffled sounds from within. But, it must have been long enough to alert Angel of his presence.

"Connor?" came the muted voice from the other side of the door, followed by a loud-ish crash. "Ow…shit!"

Connor threw the door open in alarm, only to find a shirtless Angel comically hopping on one foot, cradling the other in his hand. Apparently the noise had come from foot colliding with bed stop. He waved Connor in, motioning him to close the door and gingerly stepping on his injured foot. Angel put a finger to his lips and inclined his head towards the bed, keeping his voice at a low whisper. "He hasn't gotten much sleep lately." Spike was sprawled out across the bed, but didn't appear to awaken at the noise. He shifted a bit in sleep, curling closer towards the spot that Angel had obviously just vacated. As he pulled a hooded sweatshirt over his head, Connor was able to see that Angel's torso was littered with shiny pinkish healing scars. He carefully sat on the edge of the bed so as not to jostle the other vampire, slipping on his socks and shoes. "Are you going out?"

Connor shrugged. "Was thinking about it." He could tell Angel was clearly attempting to remain casually neutral, trying not to pry. He quirked an eyebrow and grinned at him. "You wanna come with?"

Angel grinned back, failing completely at this point to reign in his interest. "Um…yeah. That would be great. Actually, there's someplace I've been meaning to show you." He hopped up from the bed eagerly, placing a hand between Connor's shoulder blades, leading him towards the door.

"K…just as long as I don't have to talk to anyone else." Angel nodded at this, and then Connor amended. "And, I can get something to eat."

"Done and done." He smiled at Connor then glanced back at Spike. Connor could swear he heard a quiet snicker from the area of the bed, although the other vampire never moved. Connor peered out into the hallway, and once satisfied that no one was there, allowed Angel to lead him outside.

They found a small restaurant nearby and Connor ate his dinner quickly, because he was hungry and it was awkward to be the only one actually eating. Angel spent the meal slowly drinking his wine and picking apart a piece of bread, rolling the little bits into balls and lining them up neatly on the table. Once finished, Connor placed his napkin over his plate and looked up at his father. "So…where to?"

Angel threw down enough money to cover the check and stood up, leading the way across the square towards a metro stop. "Well, it's a bit of a far walk, so I figured we'd take the subway." He quickly began to descend, effortlessly melting into the large crowd below. Connor absently acknowledged that he himself often utilized this skill during hunting. Angel stopped in front of an illuminated map, drawing his finger along one of the lines that crisscrossed the city, tapping his finger at their destination. They purchased fare cards and descended to the tracks below.

The air underground was muggy and thick, and he winced at the high-pitched noise of the approaching train, seeming as loud as a siren to his over-sensitive ears. Angel gave him a sympathetic smile and gently squeezed his shoulder. Once their train finally pulled up, they piled into the crowded car, carving out a small space near to one another. People pressed in from all sides and he grasped at the overhead bar to steady himself against the gentle rocking of the train. He was trying to people watch, eyeing an obvious American family that was attempting to juggle luggage and children.

He felt Angel quickly shift beside him, his hand shooting out impossibly quick, catching a wrist which had tried to sneak into Connor's backpack. He wrenched the wrist towards the side, forcing the pick-pocket to drop Connor's wallet back into his bag. The thief tried to twist away, but Angel held him tight, his voice a low growl, his eyes glowing gold. "Quello non è molto piacevole."

The man let out a surprised hiss, panic setting in. "Cosa diabolica!" He awkwardly attempted the sign of the cross around Angel's grasp. "Il dio lo protegge!" Angel released the man with a look of disgust, simultaneously shoving him backwards while herding Connor closer towards his chest, protecting him. Connor figured he needn't have bothered considering most of the passengers gave them a rather wide berth for the remainder of the trip. The train finally rolled into the last station, and Angel nudged him towards the doorway, indicating they should exit up and out into the night sky.

Connor followed Angel silently, waiting to speak until they reached street level. "So, that was…entertaining."

Angel glanced at him and shrugged indifferently, giving a lopsided grin of apology. After walking in what passed for a companionable silence between them, he looked at Connor several times as if deciding whether or not to ask him something. "So…you and Faith…"

"How 'bout this? You don't ask me about my love life and I don't ask about yours." He looked hard at Angel, who seemed to get the implication of what he was saying by the look of dismay on his face. "Deal?"

"Oh. Yeah. Absolutely." Angel spoke quickly. "It's a deal."

Connor glanced at him a few times, trying to decide whether this was a can of worms worth opening. "So…you don't approve. Of me and Faith."

Angel had the decency to look surprised that Connor had asked. "Yes. I mean…no. I mean…it's really none of my business." After a few more moments of silence, he finally sighed in resignation. "Faith is a good friend of mine." He seemed to be stumbling over his words. "She's a very nice girl, well, woman, and…"

"Dad. Nothing happened, ok?" Connor smirked at his awkwardness. He was aware that they were making their way somewhere uphill but couldn't see where they were going, only saw the lights of the city glowing in the distance below them.

"Oh. Ok. That's…really none of my business. Like I said." Angel seemed to be trying hard to avoid looking at him, instead focusing on the path in front of them that he was probably following by pulling on a long ago memory. He felt Connor's eyes on him and sighed again, splaying his hands outward. "Look. It's just that I'm afraid you're a bit like me when it comes to women…you know?" He cocked his head sideways at Connor, studying him. Connor just looked back at him in utter bewilderment, wondering where this line of conversation was leading. "Like…you get one woman on your mind, and it's hard to think about anything else." He dipped his head a bit, catching Connor's eyes, willing him to understand. "And Faith…"

"Isn't a one guy kinda girl?" Connor guessed helpfully.

Angel's smile was quick. "Yeah. Something like that." He licked his lips, considering something before continuing. "And, I want someone…normal for you. Someone who's not in this world, at least."

Connor heaved an exasperated sigh. "Yeah. I thought we'd covered that, like a million times already, dad. You know...the part where I explain that I'm not exactly normal…." He stopped suddenly when he realized they had reached their destination. He took an involuntary gasp, stunned into silence. "Wow."

The whole city was laid out before them, a glittering sea of lights. It was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen.

"Yeah. It's even more spectacular than what I remembered. 'Course, now there's a lot more electricity and houses that make the view a bit brighter." He grinned widely at Connor.

"Where are we?"

"Janiculum Hill." Connor sat in the grass, settling in to enjoy the view, after a few seconds of indecision, Angel joined him. "This place was originally the center for the cult of the god Janus, and since it was up so high, became a good place for augers to observe the auspices." Off of Connor's confused expression he continued to explain. "The augers were like prophets, and auspices were thought to be signs from the gods, told through the patterns of the birds in the sky."

Connor nodded in understanding. "Ah…and being up high, they would have a better chance at bird-watching." He leaned back on his elbows, stretching his legs out in front of him. Angel copied his pose. "So…when were you here last?"

Angel seemed to hesitate for just the briefest of moments before answering. "1894."

Connor let out a low whistle. "Why did you come here? You would have still been evil, then right?"

Angel nodded. "Just because I was evil didn't mean I didn't occasionally like to take in the sights." Connor quirked an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Ok. Darla was mad at me and I took her here to make up with her. She always liked a view."

Connor felt very interested in where this little exchange was going. "Why was she mad at you?"

Angel sighed and leaned back, pillowing his head with his hands. "Because we got in a fight over The Immortal." He seemed to bite out the name with distaste.

Connor giggled. "The Immortal?" He shook his head and then leaned back next to Angel. "Seriously, where do these dudes come up with these names?" He rolled over onto his side, propping his head up with his hand, considering Angel closely. He seemed open and relaxed, so Connor decided to push a little. "What was she like?" Brown eyes flicked over towards him then back skywards again. "Darla?" He prodded a little further. "My mother?"

Something unreadable passed over Angel's face, but he answered almost automatically, turning to face his son. "She loved you very much, Connor. She gave her life to bring you into this world."

Connor sighed and shook his head sadly. "Ok. How about the non-radio-edit this time?" He pushed himself up to sitting, looking down on Angel. "C'mon, dad. You never talk about her. I think I should know what she was like."

Angel closed his eyes briefly as if to steel himself before sitting up as well. "Connor, are you sure you want the answer to that question?" His face registered the sadness and grief he was obviously feeling, for which Connor felt slightly guilty. "There are some things you can't un-know once you know them."

"Ignorance is bliss?" Connor shook his head in disgusted disbelief. "Are you of all people trying to feed me that line of crap?" He ran his hair through his hands, absently thinking it was a bit longer than he liked to keep it. "Haven't you learned that hiding the truth doesn't ever turn out well?"

Angel pulled his knees to his chest, hugging his arms around them, then changed his mind, letting his knees fall open and crossing his feet at his ankles. Connor could tell he was nervous. He took a long unneeded breath. "She was beautiful." He smiled ruefully, looking off into the distance. "She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. She promised to show me the world." He glanced over at Connor. "She did."

He picked up a small stick, began digging absently at the ground with it. "We were together for a long time, Connor." Dark eyes flicked up and back down towards the ground. "For over a century, we hunted, killed, tortured, destroyed, fought and betrayed one another." He looked up, catching and holding Connor's gaze. "But, in the end, none of it meant anything."

He watched Connor for a bit, gauging his reaction before continuing. "I got cursed by gypsies, and she threw me out. Just like that." He snapped his fingers for emphasis. "She couldn't tolerate my having a soul." His voice got low and sad. "I was stuck between worlds, belonging to neither. I tried following my family around for awhile—Darla, Drusilla and Spike. I even tried to give it another go." He shrugged forlornly. "It didn't take. I left, and they didn't try to find me. I didn't see them again for almost a hundred years."

Connor cleared his throat, trying to find his voice. "So…then what happened?" He gestured at himself. "Obviously, you met up with her again."

Angel tugged at his hair and smiled sadly. "I eventually made it to Sunnydale. Darla was already there." He looked down at his lap, picking at the fabric of his jeans. "I killed her to save Buffy."

Connor's insides felt like jello, his voice just above a whisper. "You killed her?"

Angel nodded slowly, waiting to see if he should go on. After a long beat, Connor nodded back, taking in a shuddering breath. Angel then began quickly filling in the gaps, telling of Spike and Dru's return to the fold, the restoration of his evil self and the resulting sojourn in hell.

Then, it was on to Los Angeles, Wolfram and Hart, Lindsey, Lilah and Holland Manners, all who conspired to bring Darla back. As a dying human. Angel told of his attempt to save her, pledging his life for hers. He ultimately failed in this attempt, and Drusilla was brought in to make Darla back into a monster. He explained that he kinda went off of the deep end after that, and then...nine months later they had a baby.

They sat in silence for a long time after Angel finished talking. Connor's mind was reeling. The rational part of his mind knew he had asked for this, knew that Angel had softened the blow, but it was still a lot to take in. "Um…"

Angel reached out, gently squeezing his son's shoulder. "Yeah…that about sums it up." He ducked his eyes, brown eyes locking on blue. "You ok?"

Connor gave him a watery smile. "Yeah."

Angel smiled back, but when he spoke again, his voice was low and serious. "Before she died, your mom told me to tell you something. She said: 'You were the one good thing we ever did together.' She was right." He squeezed Connor's shoulder once again. "I'm sorry I never told you that before now."

Connor was about to say something when he heard her approaching. He knew Angel had felt her, too, by the way his fingers tightened on his shoulder. They both stood as one, turning to face her. Although she was smaller than he was, Connor knew instinctively that Buffy was more powerful than the both of them.

Angel was shifting nervously from foot to foot, finally breaking the awkward silence with a tentative "Hi."

Buffy threw her hair back and crossed her arms across her chest, her eyes flashing with fury. "So, Angel…were you ever planning on telling me yourself?"

Angel glanced at Connor before fixing his gaze back on Buffy. "Tell you what?"

Buffy gave a sardonic chuckle. "What are you playing at here, Angel? What, did you think I wouldn't find out?" Connor began inching away, but Buffy reached out and grabbed him by the arm, hindering his escape. Her fingers felt like steel cables. "Nah…I think you should stick around. I'm betting you already know, anyways." She never tore her gaze from Angel.

Angel stepped towards them, obviously torn between wanting to protect his son and trying to avoid a throw down with a Slayer. He cleared his throat. "How did you find out?" The only answer he received was an incredulous scoff. "Did Giles tell you?"

"Giles? You told Giles? You hate Giles. He hates you." Buffy shook her head in disbelief. "Why the hell would you tell Giles?" Connor realized then that Buffy and Angel were talking about very different things.

Angel shrugged, defeated. "I thought I could trust him. I guess I was wrong."

Buffy frowned at him, pinching between her eyebrows with her free hand. "You told Giles." She slowly shook her head, her eyes sad and wounded. "See, the only reason I can figure that you would tell Giles would be to deliberately hurt me."

Angel threw his hands up. "Buffy, I'm sorry that you found out this way, but this has nothing to do with you."

She closed her eyes and sighed. "Apparently not." She released Connor then, taking a step back. She took a deep, steadying breath. "Do you love him?"

"Of course I love him." He took another step closer to Connor, eyeing him searchingly. Connor was at a loss at what to do.

"You love him." She repeated again slowly, as if to convince herself.

Angel opened his mouth to speak, but Connor decided to finally step in and save him. "Dad, I don't think she's talking about..."

Oh. Fuck.

The three stood just gaping wide-eyed at each other, finally reaching the same page.

"Did he just call you dad?"

Quello non è molto piacevole: That's not very nice

Cosa diabolica: Evil thing

Il dio lo protegge: God protect me!