His path forked in this life, forked so many times that figuring it out took a decent understanding of physics and a working knowledge of the theory of alternate timelines. Call it fate, destiny, chance, whatever you may want, but he'd never been given a straight road to walk on. The prophesied son of two vampires, an impossibility from conception forward, meant to kill a powerful demon. But his destiny was rewritten before he was even born and it was filled with meddlers long after.
Between Sahjhan, Holtz, Jasmine, and his own father, it was amazing that he could claim sanity at all considering the multiple versions of himself floating around in his head. He never wanted a destiny, would never have asked for something so controlled and yet uncontrollable, but it came to him anyways and for the most part he failed to live up to everyone's expectations, including his own.
He liked to think that even without the inclusion of Connor Reilly's memories of what a normal life should be like, that he could have turned himself around and lost some of the rage that had consumed him since before he could talk. But what ifs were useless, even if you did know who to contact to make what if's into reality. He'd had enough people messing with his life.
Choosing to fight with Buffy and Dawn and their group rather than his father's when his memories returned had been the first time he'd truly felt he had control over his own life. Choosing to leave them, to come here, had been harder but even more satisfying. The fight no longer held meaning for him, the battle against darkness an empty duty equally well served by the Champions they already had. He wanted to make a difference, find a reason, that no one else in his life had predicted or chosen for him, and he found that in the rainy city, far from the closest bastion of traditional evil and full of more immediate human problems.
A pair of large arms wrapped around his shoulders, interrupting his reverie, and he tensed briefly before recognizing Joshua's scent and forcing himself to relax again. Physical affection was something he'd never be used to, but Dawn, and now Joshua, were exceptions to the rule.
"Stop hard thinking. Time for movie," Joshua said excitedly, his breath ruffling Connor's hair as he bodily picked him up from his hunched over position on a chair and deposited him on the couch, one arm still wrapped around him to enforce the no thinking rule. Connor laughed and relaxed into the hug while Joshua reached out with his other arm to turn on the small colored set. "Tonight is Wizard of Oz!"
There was no popcorn, but they had scrounged up some peanuts that they alternately snacked on and threw at each other while enjoying the musical escapades of Dorothy and her companions. When the wicked witch's dark green face first appeared on the screen Joshua suddenly turned to him with wide eyes, "Is she real?"
Connor pretended to consider it for a moment, his face serious as Joshua's expression grew increasingly frantic. Finally his lips twitched their way into a grin and he threw another peanut at the shaggy man with a chuckle. "That wicked witch isn't real and I promise to protect you from any others."
Joshua looked skeptical, or as skeptical as he could look, but gave Connor a gentle squeeze "Skinny fella protect Big fella. Big fella protect Connor too."
"That's right, we protect each other," Connor said contentedly and hugged him back before scooping up some peanuts and turning to face him with a wicked grin of his own. "But not from peanuts!"