(A/N):YAY! Connor-filled DVDs! And a Vincent Kartheiser screen-test! WOOHOO! He got GROUNDED, haha! GO ANGEL-DADDY! XP
And yes, "Quaff" is a real word, but not a type of power-stealing demon. Quaffing means 2 drink over a certain extent or boundary (drink ANYTHING, not just liquor) Pretty weird word, huh?
And again 2 make stuff clear, this is taking place after "Origin", but Gunn is fine, Eve is still working and not human, Hamilton isnt even in here, and Lilah is still going on somewhere. And also, Angel doesnt exactly understand everything. He doesnt know all that Lindsey told him kuz Lindsey prolly wont even b in this. But the fact that Angel is kinda naive about working for that evil place is exactly what Im setting up so that my ending plot works out, meaning he doesnt really know he's just being distracted like he knows in the tv series.
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"Do you think he looks like me?"
The whole room stilled, Wesley and Lorne looking at their boss, confused. "Say that again?" Lorne asked.
"I mean..." Angel had an almost extraordinay smile adorning his lips, his face taking on a far-off look as he leaned back, his chair teetering with a squeak. "He doesnt have my eyes but I think he pretty much looks like me. Well, the me when I was his age...He's got my hair...the color atleast...And he's got my smile...Oh, you should have seen it. Its like...its like his whole face just lights up and his eyes twinkle and cheeks get a little red...He's so pale. Dont you think he's pale? I dont think he gets enough sun. Another thing from me, I guess. Oh but WOW is he...he's just so...so... I-I dont know..." He laughed to himself, not looking at them, his face beaming.
"Uh Angelca- I mean, Angel. Are you feeling o-"
"-we were bonding earlier. And I know he felt it, too. He can deny it all he likes. You guys, it was amazing. He was laughing- I made him laugh. You have to hear it. His laugh is so precious. He's so precious...Precious isnt a manly word is it? Do you think Im being manly enough? He's so thin, though. Do you think they feed him enough? I should take him out for dinner tonight-" He suddenly propelled himself forward, staring down at the table with an anxious look. "I dont know what food he likes! Oh my God, Im his father and I dont know what his favorite food is! Or even if he has a favori-"
"-ok, what are you going on about, boss?" Lorne gave the ranting man a funny look. "We're talking about maniac church-goers here and your babbling about where to go out for dinner? The Pegasus Star is a 1st-class choice, by the way."
Angel shook himself out of his thoughts, looking at them all, extremely embarrassed now. They had all been speaking about the case at hand when he had let his anxious mind wander, feeling slightly upset as he realized the meeting was not at all liable to be cut short. But thoughts of Connor, thoughts of his son, had greatly eased the pain.
And his clients were trading looks between themselves.
"Uhhh right, I-Im terribly sorry. Yes, so how can we handle this...matter? Um...what were we even talking about?" He could make it- it was just one meeting.
Then another.
Angel's hand clenched slightly at the thought as Lorne looked over at the clients nervously. "Uhhh we apologize. Angel here is usually not like this, but...uh, he has alot on his mind. Busy week, you know..." Both women nodded slowly, but looked over at the vampire somewhat cautiously.
Wesley passed the immortal a yellow file, and he flipped it open, scanning it quickly.
"Ok, then, a couple of holy-rollers infused with an ancient Korr-Pokk goddess, on the streets, preaching to people. I see nothing wrong with this." He really just wanted to leave. Now.
"Those reports show theyre terrorizing people, Angel-"
"-I hardly call forgiving people "terrorizing" them, Wesley. Freedom of Speech. Ever heard of it?"
"That is not the point." One of the demons spoke up. Angel remembered her name being Opeely. "They have committed an otracity against our members. They've called upon and invoked themselves with our High Goddess, Ta La Iish! It cannot be treated so lightly!"
"Alright, I understand that, but why come to Wolfram & Hart? Cant your people deal with this in their own way?" He noticed Wesley staring at him quizzically, but didnt really bother to care why.
Opeely openly glared. "Those two work for you."
"Excuse me?"
"They scream Wolfram & Hart and they speak of things that your 'company' has done. They speak of things that a highly-famed coorporation such as yourself would want to keep hidden, especially from the public. "
Angel looked at her, suddenly all business. It would definately be a problem if there really were two people out there just telling random people secrets of the law firm. They might create, for W & H and for Angel himself, some unwanted attention.
He flipped the folder open again and stared down at the two pictures clipped next to each other. The men didnt look familiar.
"I dont recognize them. Are they staff? Do they still work here?"
"No sir," Patrick Tull finally spoke up, face emotionless like stone. "They dont work for this branch."
"Then what are they doing here in L.A.?"
Opeely turned to look at him. "You can only invoke our High Goddess from her white temple."
"And let me guess," Angel rolled his eyes. "That temple is somewhere here in Los Angeles." Her silence answered for her. Angel sighed and threw the file down on the table in front of him. "Ok, what do you want us to do about this?"
There was suddenly a loud thump from one of the walls, the wall itself practically shaking, like something had been pounded roughly against it. They all looked towards the spot.
"What in hell's bells was that?" Lorne asked, sipping his liquor, but Angel merely waved it off nonchalantly, teetering in his chair once again.
"Security will handle it." He looked to the two Korr-Pokk demons, who were still staring curiously at the wall. "So, what do you need us to do?"
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When the demon hand slapped onto his forehead, his temples gripped securely, Connor's head slammed back, thumping somewhat harshly against the wall behind him. He gasped, awaiting and preparing for the pain as he was held strongly in place, a glow encircling the the claw and flaring between his eyes like a bright but cold blue fire.
But no pain came.
Only music.
His head pounded, but only with pressure, like somebody was filling up the insides with extremely cold and numbing water then trying to scoop it all away. Time seemed to slow, the workers of Wolfram & Hart sliding past like jerky-moving shadows, and odd music rang out, sounding foreign and strange, almost dark.
Connor's eyes widened as Gendall's voice came from all around him, reverberating in his head.
But the demon hadnt even opened his mouth.
"You like that, boy? Its our music from our dimention and it helps us in...these types of situations. We're empaths, you see. And we're also part Quaff- power stealers, I guess you could call us. We drink the dormant energy out of things to get stronger. And you have alot of power, mostly dormant which is strange since you're a living thing. Speaking of that..." He moved his other hand to the boy's thin shoulder and gripped it, getting a better hold and smirking in satisfaction when the boy didnt flinch this time, completely done over. "Lets see what you are exactly. You werent being very nice before, so we have to do this the hard way. First things first, however."
The glow grew brighter in between Connor's eyes and he felt his head swell with more pressure before the feeling slowly receded. It was almost like something was digging itself in and sucking things out. The music pounded louder and the shapes around both he and the demon flickered around more quickly, like the various items of the law firm hall were merely picking themselves up, turning a darker shade, then decided to just start spinning and twirling and dancing in erratic motions.
Connor felt himself gasp and then more gasps followed as his mind thanked his body that he was still breathing. He couldnt feel anything besides what the man was doing and his body gasping in answer, couldnt hear anything besides the music, the deep voice, and his panicked heartbeat thumping loudly in his ears.
But he didnt want to hear all that or feel all that. He wanted to hear Angel storming into view, feel the vampire's presence with his own heightened senses, and then feel those comforting arms, which held him for hours in the night even as the boy's body shook slightly with emotion, wrap themselves around him and lift his eyes away from the light.
The glow was getting too bright and the pressure was almost hurting now, as it swam about more strongly, searching through every part of him.
This was wrong. Nobody should be allowed to do this, his mind whispered frantically, before it was too overcome to even think properly.
Gendall looked around himself quickly, noticing a few people of the W & H staff staring back curiously, but not making any movement foreward to interrupt his plans, before he turned back to the matter at hand. The boy was something strange in this dimention. Gendall knew of all the races of the world, both human and not, and the kid touched neither of them, as if he was the first of his kind. And probably the last, considering there wasnt another like him anyways.
His eyes unfocused and turned from gray to white, as he began to concentrate.
"Your name's Connor. No last name? Odd." He frowned as he searched deeper. "Born on Earth, raised in Quor-toth-" He whistled softly, eyes focusing back on the boy. "Quor-toth? Impressive. There are no portals to Quor-toth, you know. So how did you do that one?"
His eyes turned white again. "Sarjhan, a time-jumping demon fearing his own demise and holding the only words to open Quor-toth once. He opened a rift and you, only a baby, were thrown through, along with a vampire-hunter named Daniel Holtz...Sixteen years later, you punched your way back? How the hell did-...Well, I guess living in the hell dimention for most of your childhood would leave you inhumanly strong...But that wouldnt be most of it. This was a year ago? So that would make you seventeen. You look younger, boy...Wait, no, youre sixteen? But...well, this is confusing. And not as important."
He gazed, thoughtfully now, at the gasping boy beneath his palms. A sixteen year old boy that was raised in Quor-toth then punched a rip in time back to Earth? No regular kid would be able to do that, even if they were highly trained in a hell dimention.
No human kid, at least.
Now there was a good question...
His eyes flashed to white again. "OK, boy, who were you born from?" He almost flinched in surprise as the image came to him. The mother was a very beautiful and graceful woman. Dead. Staked herself and turned to dust.
Stake. Dust.
Vampire.
"Thats not possible," he murmurred to himself. Vampires couldnt produce offspring and she had been a vampire even before the child. If she had been artificially inseminated, the baby would have died immediately in the womb.
If female vampires even had wombs.
Gendall concentrated again, the glow growing stronger, and the boy whimpering now, but the Korr-Pokk didnt care. Curiousity was killing him. The boy had looked to the office when the demon asked who he "belonged" to, so that meant the parents were in there, but if the mother had staked herself and was gone, then that left...
"Who's your father?" He repeated, clenching the boy's forehead tighter.
And the images suddenly assaulted him, not just one like with the mother, but many, as if thrown to him from being collected and cherished.
A man dressed in dark clothing. The man frowning. The man cautious. The man fighting...fighting the boy! The man angry. The man annoyed, surrounded with light. The man smiling. The man laughing and playing around. The man holding his son so protectively.
The man, a vampire.
A vampire with a soul.
The demon with the angelic face.
Angel.
The angel sent to save others by having all of Wolfram & Hart at his disposal.
Gendall gasped quietly in shock and looked towards the meeting room door. It was him. The boy's father was the man they were all sent to see. But that didnt make sense...
The Korr-Pokk looked back towards Connor. It just couldnt be! It wasnt possible!
"The offspring of two vampires," he murmurred to himself, watching the boy continue to gasp. "You are an impossible feat, child. No, the Miracle Child. Thats what they call you. But thats not all. You may be a vampire's son, but your powers do not speak of the vampyre-"
He suddenly felt a slight itching in his head, a sign his mate was calling him.
"Not now, Opeely," he growled back, thwarting off the link. The itch continued, then slowly diminished.
"Now for the real question," the demon said, inhaling and trying to infuse his hand with more power. "What are you?" When nothing came at first, he concentrated harder, ignoring the heightening of the gasps. "We dont have all day, boy! Daddy wont like to walk out and find us like this! What are you? What is that power I feel? Where does it come from? Show me!"
The blue swirled up his arm, enveloping almost all the sleeve, and grew so bright he was almost worried all of Wolfram & Hart would be able to detect it. The firm's mystics would most likely be able to radar the surge of power a mile away if they were as strong as they were credited for. There wasnt much time.
And he just had to know.
Gendall's mind leaped forward, a last-ditch effort confronted with the unexpected time-limit now, placing itself within the boy's head, but he flinched as he hit barrier deep inside- a black wall that was covered in a thick film that dripped off. And Gendall, calling forth more power, broke through, easily slicing away the blockade. Much too easily, actually, for his liking. The wall didnt exactly feel like it was a shield- it wasnt strong enough.
He frowned, but he would mull over it all later.
After he found out.
His vision suddenly opened up and he found himself in a large room that looked alot like a very desolite hotel lobby. There was nothing around at all. Where was the boy's power? Most minds would just show a picture of how to use it and where exactly it came from, but...in this boy's mind, was just an empty hotel, which was odd in itself.
No, not empty.
A boy. The boy. On the floor, spread eagle, staring up. Chained with black chains. And smiling.
Gendall gazed at him curiously, not daring to walk closer. That smile was not at all like that of a child's. He had seen more human smiles on creatures out to assassinate him. The evilest of creatures could not show horror in their smiles. Thats what smiles were. And you couldnt smile anyways when filled with such a force.
But the smile on the boy's face was something wrong, something purely bred off pain and suffering. It was a smile of laughing as the world tortured you. Any dark creature would feel that.
But no living creature would smile after.
"So now you know."
Gendall suddenly glared. "I know nothing! I dont understand all this! What are you!" The boy had to be an empath of some kind. Or a telepath. It was impossible to create a seperate body only residing in the mind. Gendall, himself, was a manisfestation of his astral self residing in his body, and one of the powers of an empath was that once getting inside the mind of another living thing, the thing would be completely neutral for the time being. Everything would be neutral, including the mind and speech patterns. It allowed the empaths to search around on their own without any resistance or any attempts at breaking the psychic bond.
This boy was there. This boy was speaking. And this boy was being binded by something else entirely.
"What are you?" he repeated, this time quietly. He was getting the feeling this was all beyond him.
And that feeling was pissing him off.
The chains suddenly broke and the boy blurred out, appearing now before the alarmed Korr-Pokk.
"Something you will never understand," he hissed dangerously, eyes a stormy blue. "Now get out before I drain you of all your power, demon." When the Korr-Pokk did nothing, though, but stare wide-eyed downwards, the boy reached up and grabbed his neck in a vise-like grip, lip curling in a snarl only learned from the depths of hell itself.
"Get out!"
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"No. Theyre human." Angel threw down the file yet again.
The black-haired Opeely opened her mouth in protest. "We want justice! Theyve invoked the powers of our High Goddess! And they are spewing the plans of your business! How could you not want this!"
"They are still human. Killing is never justice- its just pure vengeance and never ends. Revenge is just like a cycle of hate. And it never ever makes anything better." He sighed, running his hands through his hair. "What we, as Wolfram & Hart, can do is track them down, detain them, and then somehow release the essences out of them. Therefore, we all get what we want. No invoked goddess," he pointed to them and then at himself, "and no killings. It all works out and everybody's happy."
"No deal," the personal advisor finally spoke, jumping up and looking outraged. "You, as Wolfram & Hart, work by your clients orders to the best of your abilities. We also know that killing is not out of your nature. Why not kill when it involves you all directly?"
"Because killing does not involve us. Not anymore. Not while Im here," Angel glared. "Now please have a seat and agree to a way that is within our power to help you."
"You clearly must learn from your gods," Wes suddenly said, taking off his glasses and tucking them away. "A goddess of forgiveness would not have her loyal followers hunting down and destroying all those that did her wrong, now would she?" The two were silent, a scowl evident, however, on both their faces.
"So is it agreed?" Angel asked, eyebrows raised. "Search, detain, cleanse, and release?" He hoped so, a certain dark-headed kid was waiting for him upstairs, most likely asleep, though. He must of had barely three hours in the last two days. Angel also hoped the last meeting of the day would fly by quicker than this one.
The advisor huffed after a second and sat down, still looking annoyed. Angel noticed Opeely was once again staring at the door, curiously. His cell suddenly rang and he opened it, Gunn's name flashing across the screen.
"Yes?"
"Angel, man, I ummm I got the stuff..." Angel leaned back. He heard a "but" somewhere in all of this. "But..." He knew it.
"What is it, Gunn?"
"Uhhh well...the jacket and trees are fine...Spike, however, ...isnt."
"What?"
"Yeah, Illyria got to him. He's down in the ward. He said the last thing he remembered was walking Connor to an elevator and then Illyria grabbing him."
Angel sat up straighter, eyes instantly worried. "Did you check my room? Is Connor there?" He noticed Lorne and Wesley looking up at him, concerned.
"I-I..." There was a sigh on the other line. "He's not there, Angel. And he's not with Illyria. She said she didnt even notice him."
"Gunn, where's my son?" Even though panicking now inside, his voice came out deadly calm.
"I-I...We're-"
"Connor's wandering around Wolfram & Hart? By himself?" Wesley asked, eyes widening.
Suddenly, Opeely stood up as well, eyes churning to a very white, anger obviously not kept in check. "Gendall, answer me! What are you doing?"
They all stared at her bewildered, except Angel who was too busy threatening loudly on the phone. "I mean it, Gunn. If you dont find him within the next five seconds, Im going to-"
"What are you doing to that boy? He's just a child! There is no need for this!"
Everything stopped.
Angel dropped the phone in disbelief, his face growing paler than a vampire's normal. The Korr-Pokk woman was still staring towards the door, but not for much longer, as she was forcefully slung into the air and slammed against the wall behind her. She let out a startled gasp, her advisor friend rising also, then looked from the fists that had her up to the vampire face that was growling back.
"You have even less."
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BA-BUMP
Through his distorted view, Connor watched as the face in front of his own bled, the extremely pale lips being streaked with crimson trails. And he knew it mirrored his own. He felt a thin stream of warm liquid running across his lips and down his chin. He tasted the metallic flavor as his mouth continually opened to whimper and gasp with the pressure invading his mind.
"The Destroyer," the demon whispered, eyes widening as his grip on the boy's shoulder and forehead grew painfully tight And then his eyes exploded with white light, the blue that had traveled up his arm now reaching his own head. He knew a name now, a true name from another world and another prophesy, but he needed to know more. The child was born on Earth for a reason. He just had to know.
Their blood ran more heavily as each was held within power, their clothes splashed with color and faces stained with red. The images swirled more erratically and music long ago stopped with the fury of the Korr-Pokk's curiousity. But the pounding...
"You'll kill us all, boy," Gendall grit out, not letting go.
Connor threw open his mouth to scream, his mind now frantic with painful throbbings and body shuddering with exersion, visions and hopes of his father barreling into the rescue long forgotten.
Until one image rang true.
Connor let out his building shriek of pain as the offending arms were ripped away and body of the creature thrown...clear out the window from down the hall.
BA-BUMP
Sirens from outside screeched as Connor slumped to his side, right into the frantic arms of his father. He looked up and tried to raise himself, actually embarrassed more than scared now, because he knew instantly he was safe, but his body trembled violently, and he further collapsed, giving up.
"Connor? Connor?" Angel smoothed the boy's sweaty hair back and tipped his chin upwards, noting with relief that the blood flow had stopped. "Baby? Cmon son, talk to me. Connor!" The boy's eyes closed then flickered open as he heard his father gasp, giving a tired smile. His body had already begun its inhuman healing.
"Quit screaming," he smirked sleepily, amused when the older man just looked down at him shocked. "You girl."
The vampire held his son close, wiping away the blood as the boy merely stared back up at him, then choked back emotion when Connor grimaced and closed his eyes, growing limp.
"Connor? Connor!" He grew silent for a moment, gazing down as his young son's pale and bloodied face, before looking up, panicked eyes searching out Lorne and finally noticing all the others that had been watching. "Lorne, take him." He shook as he stood, Connor cradled with him, then placed the unconscious form in his friend's waiting arms. "The infirmary. Now!"
Lorne nodded quickly and was gone.
Angel turned to the two demon women still standing in the doorway, but they beat him to the punch, already shaking and willing to talk. "We're telepaths, also. Thats all he was doing to the boy! It was a telepathic link. He was curious as to what that child was. Nothing more. We swear it!"
Opeely's suit was gripped once more and she was lifted back into the air. Her advisor did nothing but back up in fear.
"That boy is my son," Angel seethed. "And no one has any right to even breathe the same air as him unless I say so." He threw her to the ground then looked to the wall, trying to control his breathing. "Your partner payed with his life for touching my son. You'll notice no one will kill you if you get out now and have your kind never return. Go." They looked to each other and took off, case completely off their minds.
"Angel, we sho-"
"Wesley," Angel interrupted, turning to face the other man and holding out his hand. "A favor."
Wes looked to the people that had been watching the whole time and nodded, looking to the ground. He handed over the cold silver object from his back pocket and stepped away, keeping his gaze low.
Angel turned toward the very few of Wolfram & Hart that stared back in fear, raised the gun, and shot.
Six went down with a scream of pain, all clutching at their kneecaps.
"A single hair on my son's head is worth more than all of your lives put together." He handed the gun back to the Englishman, still speaking slowly and dangerously. "Maybe now you'll fully understand that statement, and if you all wish to further your careers here, I only hope you give up those pathetic lives for the benefit of my child when need be."
Wesley and a newly arrived Gunn all looked on in shock as their leader walked out, briskly heading for the infirmary.
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Angel walked into the infirmary room quickly, eager to be there when his son awoke. The room was bare, except for Connor snuggled tightly under crisp white sheets and Lorne off to the side, sitting and keeping vigil.
"How is he?"
"No change," Lorne said. "Hasnt budged an inch on his own. I allowed them to do a few tests because of all the blood that came out of his nose."
Angel nodded solemnly, crossing his arms over his chest, and staring down at his boy worriedly. "And what did they tell?"
"Well, the few tests we did showed nothing out of the ordinary. His pulse is a little high but thats to be expected because of all the excitement. Blood work's fine and temperature is normal. He's only unconscious because his body's extremely tired. Brain functions are healthy and there's no cerebral hemorrhaging at all. So that creates the problem."
Angel understood where this was going. "Where did the blood come from?" He nodded grimly, swallowing. Hearing "blood" and "Connor" used in the same sentence would always disturb him.
"Exactly," Lorne sighed.
"Maybe its his healing abilities. It could be that everything inside has already finished healing."
Lorne shook his head. "We all know he's not that quick. Its been barely ten minutes since he got here. Remember the time he got staked and you rushed him back to the hotel?"
Angel grimaced, not at all liking the memories resurfacing. The green empath caught the look and apologized. "Im sorry I brought that up, but it proves the point. He still had that wound and it took you a good hour to get him help. He had healed a little bit, but the wound was deep. This wound here would be inside and more vital. I can see signs of his body beginning to heal, but..." He shrugged, looking lost. "The blood might as well have appeared out of thin air."
The vampire growled deep in his throat, glaring over at the singer. "It poured out as that creature touched him, Lorne. And that thing was bleeding, too, before I got to him I know what I saw and I know what I heard. Connor screamed just as I got there." He swallowed past the lump in his throat, remembering clearly the sound of his young son's scream. It was something he never wished to hear again.
And if anyone brought it out, he would kill them where they stood.
Angel's eyes narrowed. "It means he was in pain." He looked back at his son. Connor seemed so small under all those sheets. And so fragile. He forced down the lump again as it swelled with his supressed emotions.
"But he's alright now. Thats all that really matters," he said after a moment, sighing heavily. "Lorne, thank you for being here for him. You can leave now."
Lorne stood up. "Boss, I know you have another meeting. I can still stay-"
"-no." He glanced at the green demon, looking stern. "Eve will take my place again like she did this morning. Ive taken the rest of the day off. Look, I know you mean well and I know you've cared for Connor ever since the day he was born and Im very grateful to you for that, but..." He looked at the small boy again. "He's my son. I want to be here when he wakes up and...as greedy as it may sound, I want him to see only me."
But Lorne did not look offended. He actually smiled. "I wouldnt have it any other way, then." He got up and turned to leave. "I'll make sure you both get the utmost privacy. No worries."
Angel gave another soft thankyou, but didnt turn as the other left. He sat down in the chair and scooted it closer to the bed, leaning forward to await when those beautiful blue eyes opened up to the world and to him yet again.
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It was maybe an hour later when Connor awoke, the white ceiling slowly coming into focus. And the white walls. And white sterile sheets. He gasped, propelling himself forward, not knowing where he was, and flinched as a pale hand patted down on his chest gently.
"Hey. Hey. Shh...Everything's ok." Connor looked over to the worried but relieved face of his father standing closely by his side. Bedside, Connor noticed. He regarded the room around him, confused.
"Where are we?"
"In one of Wolfram & Hart's infirmary rooms. How are you feeling?"
"Tired. And weird. Kinda like when Fred shocked me after-" He clamped his mouth shut, grimacing with guilt. Angel sat back down in the chair, folding his arms over his chest with a frown.
"Whats the last thing you remember?"
"You screaming like a little girl." Connor grinned weakly, sitting up more comfortably. "Me also screaming like a girl," he relented with a sigh, tilting his head to the side. "Out of everything else, I just remember that demon zapping some blue light over my head and..." He trailed off, thanking whatever out there that they hid the painful bruises well under his long-sleeved shirt. He was curious to see if they were healing already, but that would mean...
"And?" Angel questioned, concerned, leaning forward.
The boy shrugged. "Nothin-Ahh!" Bad move. He hissed in pain as the wound physically made itself known. Angel was instantly at his side though, taking ahold of his arm. Connor gasped in pain again as his neck collar was tugged downwards, purple and greenish bruises clearly showing. Curiousity long-gone.
He heard an inhale of fury and then gentle and nimble fingers lifted the hair from around his forehead, inspecting for more bruises.
"My head doesnt hurt anymore," Connor replied quickly and embarrassed, trying to shove away the soft touches, but wincing again in pain as his right shoulder moved. "Not anymore," he repeated, turning away. "Im fine, Angel, I can heal, remember? Quit it-"
"-take your shirt off," Angel ordered, walking towards a black box on one of the walls. After a second thought, Connor tried to do so immediately, knowing there was no room for discussions. He questioned himself yet again, wondering why it mattered now that he listen to the older man. A few months back, he wouldve non-too politely told the vampire to go to hell, but now...He almost smiled while struggling with his sleeves.
Angel pushed a button and a woman's voice spoke throughout the room.
"Yes?"
"I need somebody to bring me some bruising cream."
"Yes sir, right away." The transmission ended.
Angel turned back to his son, and seeing the boy still struggling with hurt, trying to get the bloodied shirt off, he thought up another request. He wanted that dead demon brought to him, into his private office where nobody would disturb them.
And he wanted really sharp, pointed, shiny objects to be the welcoming party.
Connor continued to try and slide his arms out of the sleeves, until the shirt was completely and literally ripped off of him, tearing up the middle. "Hey!" He cried out in surprise. "I kinda liked that shirt!"
"I'll buy you a new one," the vampire said simply, examining the shoulder more closely. Connor's abilities were starting to take effect. "And ten more along with it."
"Ok." Connor grinned quickly and shrugged again, something completely stupid. "Gyaa!"
"Quit doing that!"
Connor flinched in surprise then gasped in pain again. "Ow!"
"I said quit doing that!"
"Youre making me!"
"How am I making you?"
"Ow!"
"Connor, stop it! Youre hurting yourself!"
"Quit yelling at me! Ow!"
"Quit moving around! I have to look at them!"
"Quit touching me! Ow!"
"Connor! I sai-!"
"Ow! Dammit, that hurts!"
"Ummm excuse me?" A lady stood in the center of the room, gazing at the scene with wide eyes. She held up a small tube of cream. "You asked for this, sir?" She got a quiet and annoyed thankyou then left quickly.
Angel turned back towards the boy and squeezed some of the thick medical cream into his hand. Connor looked away, indignantly.
"I can do that myself, you know."
"Youre my son, Connor, and youre hurt. I want to do this for you. You dont really need it since youre healing but,...Just let me, ok?" The vampire's hands shook as he touched the pale skin, eliciting a flinch of pain from the boy. After a second of concerned mulling, cream-ed up hand stopped in mid-air, he got up and sat down on the edge of the bed, gently placing his left arm around his indignant son's good shoulder. He continued rubbing the cream in, bringing the boy closer to his chest. And Connor leaned in after a moment, accepting the comfort, much to Angel's relief and delight.
They sat like that for a moment, each trying hard to think of what to say next.
"Are you mad at me?"
Angel stopped administrating the cream, startled. "What?" he asked quietly.
The boy in his arms chewed on his lower lip before continuing. "I kinda followed you to your meeting."
Angel thought carefully on what to say next. "I should be. I should be furious, Connor, but Im more worried than anything-"
"-Im fine."
"Maybe now you are." He finished with the cream and wiped the excess off onto the bottom hem of his suit jacket, not caring. Connor took it as a sign to sit up, but Angel quickly put a stop to that, gently sliding his strong arms around the boy's thin shirtless waist, pressing him back to his chest, securing the embrace. His son flushed slightly in embarrassment but then grew bold and forgot about it, relaxing in the immortal's arms. "But if I hadnt of shown up in time like I did-"
"-I couldve handled it."
Angel barked out a laugh hearing that. "Oh yeah I saw you holding up great- slammed up against my meeting room wall by a demon raping your mind, bleeding practically all over the place, screaming like that-" He choked on his words, arms tightening.
Connor looked back up at him. "Angel?"
"He hurt you, Connor! My God, he touched you and hurt you and I practically let him! I let him." Angel whispered the last part, looking ill and grieved. His face had turned ashen, eyes wide and remembering, while staring off to the right, not being able to look the boy in the eyes. "It was wrong of me to let you stay here. Bad things always happen here..."
"Good things, too." Connor had never seen his father look so weak. He turned in the embrace, ignoring the ache that traveled down his back, and tried to hug himself closer, anxiety clouding his eyes. "I came back to you here." He tryed to catch the other's eye and give comfort. "You're the only good thing in my life and being with you...like this...is...is...Angel, this place brought us back together."
Angel finally looked at him, shaking his head, gaze hard. "No, Connor. This place is evil. No matter how much good we do, Wolfram & Hart, itself, will always be evil. You being here is only tormenting me."
"...Angel?"
Angel held his son closer, looking deep into the boy's bright blue eyes, his own eyes dark and pained. "Ive brought you back into all this, Connor."
Connor stared back, somewhat nervously, then shifted his gaze downwards, shaking his head. He didnt want to hear this. Dont say it. Dont say it, he willed the vampire. Dont say it!
"And I die every time I even think of you being hurt."
Dont. Please dont!
"So youre not staying here. I wont let you get hurt again."
Angel bent low to solemnly place a kiss on the top of the boy's head. Connor glared back up at him, not caring that the immortal could clearly see his eyes filling with unshed tears.
"Im taking you back. Im taking you home." Angel swallowed, gathering enough courage to continue. "Im taking you back to your...family."
lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost
(A/N):The "stake-Connor-scene" Im talking about up there was in the book series. It was just after he got kicked out for sending Angel on his lil watery journey. Angel was, like always, keeping watch when sum weird group of good-guy extremests just up and STAKED Connor kuz he moved like a vampire. U shoulda read it! (if u didnt) XD It was so kool! Angel went kumpletely PSYKKO! Haha! That was when Angel noticed Connor healed up really quickly.
HAPPY NEW YEAR'S!