A/N): Yeah, so this was a hard chapter kinda, kuz of the dream sequence, and the sound of the song doesnt really fit, but the lyrics do, so I added it anyways. Song is Hang Him Higher by Wumpscut, but I couldnt add in the ?Latin? that is chanted in the background kuz...u kno, I dunno Latin haha.
-The West Pavilion Mall is a real mall in L.A.
Again, I say, NO SLASH IN HERE! Except...well...heh...LEN IS A KRAZY!
Sorry if the beginning is kinda slow, but meh, watever. Thanks 4 the reviews again!
lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost
All rational thoughts blanked out from Connor's mind when Len uttered those words, too confused to realize the dangerous situation he was now facing as the man gave one more heavy lurch up the stairs, smirk still in place and liquor quickly racing through his system because his steps wavered, before Emily made a final desperate leap to stop him, willing her inner strength to take charge for once.
"No! Leave him alone! I'll go, I'll go." She whispered the last part harshly, fearing she awakened the unconscious man behind her. She latched onto Len's arm, stopping him from getting any closer to the boy as her eyes darted to and from her husband and his friend.
Len relinquished his leering gaze from the wide-eyed boy to stare down at the woman mockingly. "Dont I get any say in this?"
"Please, Len," she trembled, not looking at her son.
One hand left the stair landing to brush against the dark-haired lady's cheek as tried not to flinch away, standing rigidly. "Youre not who I really want," he said slowly as if trying to hold something back, his breath stinking heavily of alcohol, but he grinned anyway, voice lowering. "But I'll take it anyways. After all," he looked back up at the boy as Connor took another step back, mind still clouded with confusion as to what was really taking place, "Im really fucked up," Len laughed, eyes twinkling darkly.
"Connor, go to your room. You have school in the morning," Emily said shakily as she led Len away. "And whatever you do, dont wake him up." By 'him', she meant Dormon, Connor knew, and he finally opened his mouth to protest, to ask what was going on, but she sent him a look, still holding on to her husband's friend. "Please, Connor, just go to your room."
"Catch ya later, Angel."
Breath hitching in his throat and eyes widening at the name, that was all it took for his body to finally cooperate as he quickly darted to his room, not exactly knowing why but not caring, all to escape the laughter from the man below. His thin hand gripped the doorknob, locking it, and he grit his teeth, watching as small tremors moved throughout his arm.
Len drunk was more terrifying than Len sober.
He steadied his shaking hand, finally letting go of the knob, but not moving away, instead leaning his forehead against the cool, white surface of his door, the only thing that seemed to be separating him from the danger outside. Only when he heard the front door close and after, two car doors slam shut, did he sigh in relief, knowing for now, whatever that had been below was now over, but his eyes grew wide at that thought, guilt coursing through his small frame.
Because he had left her alone. He had left Emily alone with the very thing that almost frightened him.
His hands clenched into fists as he laid his head back against the cool surface, remembering the drunken man's words.
"Catch ya later, Angel."
That name.
His real father, the vampire with a soul, a man who loved him more than anything else and held him as if shielding him from hurt.
The very person who wasnt there with him now.
"Angel," he murmured softly against the white-painted wood, silently calling out to the man who was so far away. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, thanking his body that it had calmed down, then cringed, not liking how weak he suddenly felt.
He pushed away from the door and made his way to his bed, his eyes falling onto the phone hooked up to the wall.
The cell was so expensive; he secretly still didnt feel right accepting it and didnt understand why the vampire had bought it for him, but it had made Angel happy and now he had a way he could talk to the vampire whenever he wanted. Connor powered the device on, smiling softly as it lit up and shone bright. He scanned through the menu and went into his 'calls', clicking on the lone name, bringing it up on to the screen, and just stared at the numbers as they brought him comfort while he clambered back onto his bed and shifted into the covers, pulling them up high to his chest.
Tucking one arm behind his head, he then shuffled back through the menu, bringing up his picture files. He had only taken two while in the phone shop, much to the sales rep's urgings, who of course wanted them to test out the product before deciding. And then Connor had kept them, thankful they saved.
One picture was of Angel. Connor clicked on it, making it larger, and almost laughed at the "What? Im a dumbass?" look his father gave to the camera.
The other picture was his favorite, but he would never admit it. It was of them both, standing side-by-side. Gunn had taken it. Connor grinned at Angel's big goofy smile as the man tried to bend his head down a little to equal his son's height, and the boy was rolling his eyes and looking away, but hiding a smirk.
They looked happy. They looked like a family.
Yeah, Connor loved that picture.
Connor stared at it a while longer, memorizing it and storing it away, before he clicked the phone shut and hid it away under his pillow, keeping it safe and close.
The clouds parted and moonlight shone in, but after awhile, shivering as a weird feeling entered his chest and blossomed, he shoved his hand back under his pillow, feeling for the small object and circling his fingers around it as he found it.
Gripping it tightly, he smiled, and closed his eyes, silently wishing familiar strong arms would suddenly reach out and encircle him so protectively.
Hang Him Higher- Wumpscut
The breed is dead our children
They were our last resort
To keep the tribe alive with
At least just a final tort
With all his evil anger
He came to take their souls
Some hang on gallows bleeding
Some lie in burning holes
We came we came we came. We came we came we came
We came to hang him higher. We came to hang him higher
We came we came we came. We came we came we came
We came to hang him higher. We came to hang him higher
We want we want we want him. We want we want we want him
We know who he was
Lilah sat alone within her dark office, a small green lamp casting the only glow over four yellow folders of documents, one outweighing the rest. Two were labeled with the same last name, a small one was blank and almost empty, while the last was clearly marked important and had the words "MIRACLE CHILD" and "THE DESTROYER" over the front, with a single picture attached of a pale and innocent-faced boy with dangerous eyes.
We know where he lives
Behind the wheel and hardly bothered with the quiet sobs of the woman next to him, Len grinned maliciously to himself, his mind entertained with sick images of him and a certain blue-eyed youth alone in a familiar house with no one around to interrupt the fun. His pulse quickened with excitement as his thoughts turned more twisted, and he stepped on the gas, frightening the lady further.
We know how to treat him
The still inebriated Riley slept on, body twitching with small spasms as his mind was caught in the throws of a dream, a rather disturbing dream involving a boy, he mistakenly knew, not of his blood or donning his features, that ran to him with a child-like innocence, arms opened wide...A boy he instantly slapped away and pummeled back, to land in a heap on the floor, tears shining on his cheeks. And within his dream, Dormon grinned at the sight. Then laughed.
Our folk never forgives
She was crying, she couldnt stop crying. It was her fault anyway, all of it was, and remembering everything that had happened and everything that would be done, she sobbed louder, curling her small body deeper into the passenger seat.
Her husband. His friends. Her child. Her sin. And then her sanity.
Here we stand
And found him resting
Out of danger
At least he thinks
A beam of moonlight broke through the dark clouds and traveled into the warm room that held a vampire's most beloved and cherished possession, a slumbering boy now illuminated by soft glows that rested on pale cheeks, as he twisted his body further away from that shadows that slinked along restlessly behind him.
And he will pay his debt now
Grim Reaper already winks
We came we came we came. We came we came we came
We came to hang him higher. We came to hang him higher
We came we came we came. We came we came we came.
We came we came we came. We came we came we came
We want we want we want him. We want we want we want him
We came we came we came. We came we came we came
We want to see him pay
For all the things he did
We want to see him hang
Right here in our midst
We came we came we came. We came we came we came
We came to see him DEAD
lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost
Oddly enough, that night held no sweet but strange dreams of Connor's dead mother and he was not plagued with nightmares of the very things that troubled him throughout the day, but he did dream yet again, his mind escaping to its most memorable and cherished place.
He was within the Hyperion.
His heart soared as he saw everything intact, just as he remembered, even things that he would have never taken comfort in before like he was now, like the laptop on the desk switched on, revealing the ANGEL INVESTIGATIONS website on the screen, and the electricity running through the humming white refrigerator. Even a table lamp next to a plush red couch, shining light on one of Lorne's many corny romance novels that looked to be left open as if abandoned. Everything was how it was- how he remembered it.
How it shouldve been.
This was his home- his true home, a place that showed it had been lived in.
A place that showed Angel.
But he suddenly felt shy as his gaze lingered on everything he recognized, noting with an odd feeling that there was too much detail for it all to be just a dream, and as he tucked that harassing thought away, unusually content with the false facade that was placed all around him, he glanced at the stairs, feet moving before he told them to, as if compelled by some invisible force he didnt know of.
He was up the carpeted steps before he even realized it, and down a hallway he recognized, then in front of a brown door he knew all too well. He longed to open it, that strange sliver of shyness racing through his system once again, but after a few more minutes of staring and contemplating, he turned away.
Only to find himself in that very room he yearned to be in, facing the door.
He turned as he sensed a close presence behind him.
"I would be proud to call him Father," a quiet but clear voice rang out, and Connor saw the boy, himself, again standing in front of him, but with his back turned and arms folded. And just beyond him was a bed, Angel's bed, where two figures slept, arms encasing one another almost desperately.
Connor stepped closer, but did not dare to be too close to the thing with his face. He noticed now the boy's arms showed, but they were not like his own. They were scarred and bloody, displaying cuts and bruises and scrapes still trickling blood as if most of the wounds were recent. Connor inspected closer, as if in a daze because curiosity was clouding away everything else from his mind, and realized his other self looked war-torn, something again he, himself, did not portray with his pale but clear skin and unmarred body.
He had been that at one time, he remembered, all too clearly in fact since it had only been just under a year ago he had returned from the hell, Quor-toth, but he was not that anymore. Maybe he was suppose to be, but... he wasnt.
His wounds had healed.
And he had hoped in more ways than one.
No. He was not that boy in front of him anymore.
"I understand now," the boy spoke up again, causing Connor to jump. "I finally understand now." He unfolded his arms and moved away, heading for the bed in a slow manner, hesitant. "I had always looked for somebody to protect- somebody to love who would love me back just as much. Even when I came back with Father, I was still searching, because Father didnt need my protection, didnt need ME, ...didnt love me." The last part was whispered and sad as the boy knelt by the side of the bed close to Angel. "But now I understand. I know who loves me- who's always loved me." He reached a thin arm out to touch the man who was turned away from him. "Father never held me. Not like this."
"Dont hurt him." The words were out his mouth before Connor could stop them as the other boy's eyes turned to a stormy blue.
"You think Im going to hurt him?" His face turned into an angry scowl and he suddenly flickered out, reappearing a second later on the other side of the bed, close to the small form clutched within the vampire's possessive grasp. He gripped the prone illusion's shirt collar and pulled down, exposing a pale neck. "Youre the one hurting him. This hurts him."
The unmarked skin discolored, showing purple and green, as if bruised and battered. The colors connected around the throat and sides of the neck.
Like a hand print.
"I-I dont know wha-"
The boy laughed darkly, cutting him off, then flickered again, now standing in front of him, angry blue staring into confused blue. "One wants you for something evil because he wants you too much and one doesnt want you at all but he's going to make you feel the pain. They will overtake you. Defy fear. Their ways could destr-"
Connor's confusion automatically tuned out the other boy. What the hell was the clone talking about, anyways?
"I cant believe Im being lectured by myself." The boy in front of him stilled as Connor turned away, letting loose a disbelieving laugh. It didnt take as much courage to say as he thought. His situation was finally sinking in. Were his dreams actually trying to control him now? He couldnt even leave the room!
His own clone was keeping him against his will. The thought of it was almost humoring.
"I want to leave. You cant make me stay here."
"You still dont know who I am, do you?"
"Yeah, sure, youre...an illusion. A dream," Connor said slowly.
"Thats your dream," the clone motioned to the bed. "Im whats inside you."
"You cant be. Youre in front of me."
The clone laughed, stepping closer, eyes hard. "No, youre in front of me."
There was a movement from the bed and they both looked over to see the boy stirring from his sleep. He blinked lazily, confused, unwrapping his arms from around the body in front of him, then tried to wiggle free from the immortal's tight hold, but he couldnt do it without waking the other man, so he settled back down and snuggled close again.
At his last movement, the arms around him brought him closer to a broad chest.
"Connor?"
He opened his eyes and looked up into concerned loving ones. "Mm?"
"You ok?"
"Yeah. Thought I heard a noise is all," he yawned, trying to scoot even closer but his father helped him out with that, bringing him to rest more comfortably against him as he murmured soothingly into the boy's ear.
"Nothing will touch you as long as Im here." He reached up to comb a hand through his kid's dark hair, then placed it back around the boy's back.
"Mm." The Connor in the bed smiled softly, content with his father's words as he rested his cheek against the vampire's unbeating body and quickly fell asleep.
Angel planted a small kiss on his head and waited awhile before tightening his grip and shifting to lay on his back, bringing the kid with him to settle on top of him, but illusion Connor moaned "Moving baaad." while doing so, voice thick with grogginess as he woke up.
"Sorry," Angel laughed, rearranging the covers to cover the boy completely.
" 'S ok," his Miracle mumbled, hair splayed out across the vampire's upper chest and shoulder, and the boy instantly fell back into slumber, hands resting loosely by the immortal's sides.
Angel's smile then fell away as he heard the small even breathings.
The real Connor frowned with a mixture of curiosity and embarrassment.
Embarrassment for the fact that within his father's arms and head snuggled away, he looked about six, and his voice didnt seem to stray too far from that. No wonder people never believed his age! But the sight in front of him left him envious- his other clone looked happy and safe and seemed to feel nothing wrong with hugging the older man so close.
Was that how he looked when being under his father's touch?
More importantly, though, was that how Angel really looked while holding him at night? Before, it seemed like just touching the boy made him deliriously happy, but at that moment, the vampire only looked worried and...sad. And he held his son close now with an almost fearsome protectiveness.
But his eyes were lethal.
And even though still figuring the immortal was only an illusion his mind had created, Connor could feel the anger radiating off the man.
After a few more seconds of quiet contemplating, Connor also noting the fact the boy next to him stood stone-still, also watching, more movement caught his attention and he looked once more at the duo across the room.
Angel had reached down to his son's collar and pulled it back, head rising a little to get a clearer view. He then sighed and laid back, rubbing his son's thin back in a circular motion. "I wish you'd tell me, Connor," he whispered towards the ceiling, raw emotion in his voice. "I wish you'd tell me whats really bothering you." He tightened his hold again, enough so that it did not awaken his son. "I'll protect you, Connor, from whatever it is. And I swear to God, I'll kill anything in my way."
Real Connor took a step back, shocked, his gaze swiveling to his clone. "I dont understand this. Whats going on? Whats he talking about?" No, none of this was real. That wasnt Angel, those werent his words, and this wasnt his room or the Hyperion. But it all wasnt a dream either. Dreams couldnt feel so alive and torment a person's soul so badly. Dreams couldnt make you want to escape and want to stay at the same time. Dreams couldnt make you hurt, both inside and out.
And dreams couldnt hold you prisoner within your most cherished place either.
"Who are you," he shouted at the face looking back at him.
His face.
"Im you-"
Connor shook his head, not believing.
"-And youre me," the voice taunted. "You dont have to believe me but we're both one and the same. Im what you were and youre what Ive become."
"I dont believe you. Youre lying," Connor said vehemently. "If thats true, then you cant be here."
"Oh, but I can," the boy's lip curled. "Not by choice but I can. You are me and you cant deny it."
Connor turned away and moved for the door. "Im leaving."
"They dont love you, you know." The clone's words froze him and he whirled, eyes wide.
"What are you talking about? Just get me out of here. I want to go home-"
"You are home." Now there was an angry spark within the clone's eyes. "And they dont love you. Not like he loves you."
Connor turned away again, but the clone flickered in front of him before he could move.
"Dont believe me?"
Connor stayed silent.
"I know you believe me. And I know you love him." The clone folded his arms, eyes narrowing.
"Im leaving. Youre just trying to torture me with all this...to keep me here. I dont even know who you are or...or what you are, so Im not listening to you anymore."
The clone leaned back onto the door and grew quiet, looking away, but Connor gasped in alarm as he saw blood spring forth from the other's skin. The boy was gripping the sides of his arms tightly, nails digging in, and dragging his fingers across his already battered skin, red liquid pooling from the fresh wounds.
And then the red turned black.
"I cant believe youre me. No..." he said slowly, finally looking over. "Youre not me, not yet. But you will be. And youre going to laugh at how weak you once were. Theyre going to hurt you and youre just going to let them." He finally nodded and smirked. "Fine. You dont want to listen to me anymore?"
Connor backed away in fear, seeing the feral look in the other's eyes.
"Then maybe you'll listen to this."
And he pulled back his fist, a fist now circled with black chains.
lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost
BA-BUMP
Connor awoke with a jolt, turned on his side, the gift from the vampire now clutched painfully tight. Blinking in confusion and trying to get the sleep out of his eyes, he looked around disoriented before relaxing, recognizing where he was.
He was home.
No, scratch that, he was at the Riley's home.
He sat up and unwound the blue sheets from around his legs then froze, seeing what was smeared all over his pillow. And his hands, as he gingerly touched his nose.
The nosebleeds were getting too frequent now. They werent uncommon- he had always had them since he could remember...
No. Most of those memories were faked.
And he couldnt remember having them in Quor-toth, or even after with Angel.
Connor frowned, confused, before pulling off the pillowcase, hoping the red liquid hadnt leaked through, but it had, so he hastily shoved the whole pillow with the casing under his bed and wiped away the residue left on his face with the back of his hands.
He hated mornings. The only thing he liked about them was that he got up so early for school, it was still dark out. He didnt think he would be able to wake up at all if the sun beat down on him. He hated the sun, but for different reasons than his father. The sun always made him tired.
He quickly washed up and changed his clothes, all the while unhooking his new phone and shoving it in his dark jeans, feeling for it as it slipped easily into his pocket. Hearing movement from the hallway and downstairs, he rushed even quicker, hoping to catch a ride from Emily before she left to take Val to school. Hefting his backpack on his bed and packing it, while absently wondering if he should call Angel, he turned his back from the doorway, never noticing the tall figure that suddenly occupied it.
"Heard you ditched yesterday."
Connor quickly looked over at his father then turned back to what he was doing. "I dont know what youre talking about," he lied, keeping his voice steady and trying to hurry his hands along faster. "I went."
"Dont you fucking lie to me. There was a message on the machine."
Connor flinched at how low the man's voice dropped to but he shrugged, not turning around. He would never confide in his "father", not like he did with Emily. His "mother" never got drunk and never screamed at him when he barely did anything at all. But he still didnt like that one voice Dormon used.
The voice he was using right now.
"Where were you?"
Connor bent low to the floor and grabbed a couple of books from under his bed, stuffing them into his backpack. "I went out with a couple of friends last night...and I went to school before that." The tension in the air was becoming thick.
"Ha. You dont have friends," Dormon scorned, lips curling. "And your school said you never made it to any of your classes, so why dont you give me some other bullshit story you got stuck up your ass."
Connor moved away to grab a pen off his desk then stepped back towards his bed. "I dont know wha-"
"Dont you fucking dare give me that again! You were with him, werent you!" Suddenly he was upon the boy, pushing him forward harshly, and Connor gasped, startled, as he landed on outstretched arms on top of his bed, bent over. "Werent you!" Dormon yelled again from behind him.
Connor whirled, almost shaking. It hadnt hurt but the mere fact that Dormon had touched him so violently sent quivers of revulsion and something that felt like fear down his spine. Never before had his "father" actually touched him in a harmful way...not that he could remember, atleast. And he didnt smell it. He couldnt smell that odor that practically stuck to the man day in and day out. His eyes widened. "Youre not drunk..." he stated quietly.
"Youre damn right I aint drunk!" Dormon yelled, his pitch rising a notch. "Now there's nothing stopping me from beating your queer ass!"
"W-What are you talkin-?"
"-Where were you!"
"I dont know what youre talking about! Please, just let me get to school. I have to go today!" The boy pleaded, looking up at the man then to the door.
"Thats fucking funny! And dont look away from me when Im talking to you, boy! She's not gonna come up here and save you!" But he was wrong. Connor had turned to stare at the door because she was coming up the stairs. Emily now stood in the doorway, looking on in alarm.
"Whats going on in here?" She asked shakily, her eyes wide.
"Never you mind!" Dormon shot out, looking over at his wife. "Get downstairs!"
"He has school, Dormon..." she said slowly, cautiously.
Connor straightened up but then cringed when Dormon's furious glare traveled back to him. "And I'll be taking him," he stated roughly, jaw set. "This doesnt concern you, so get back downstairs!"
"Connor, sweetie, finish getting ready," she directed her gaze to the slightly shaking boy, trying to avoid her husband's infuriated eyes. "Honey, you have work and you cant miss another day."
When Dormon turned steely angry eyes back to his wife, Connor took that small opportunity to grab his stuff and flit past him, inhuman speed almost kicking in as he darted to the doorway where his "mother" stood. She smoothened back his bangs with trembling hands.
"Go downstairs and wait for me," she whispered and he nodded, shooting a hesitant look over his shoulder, before walking quickly out.
It took only a few strides for Dormon to tower over the frail woman, livid eyes staring down into scared brown. "Youre just going to let him get away with it? He skips school and is out with God-knows-who doing God-knows-what and youre fine with it all? What, he gets hit by a van and now we gotta pamper his little ass, is that it? I know where he was last night! That little fucker is lying to us both!"
"Please dont say that about our son," Emily whispered, looking down.
Dormon growled low and tipped her chin up to glare back into her eyes. He moved forward and kissed her harshly, relishing in her small whimpers. "He's your son," he said slowly but still very much dangerously as he pulled away. "Not mine. And Im not letting him get away with all this. Things are going to change around here starting today?"
She nodded quickly and he glared around the room, licking his lips, then shot her a disgusted look. "Take a damn shower, you taste like ass." He moved past her and out the door, calling over his shoulder, "I'll allow you to take him to school first, though."
Emily covered her mouth, silencing the sob that finally escaped.
lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost
The few hours of school went quicker than expected, but Connor contributed it to the fact that he ignored everything and paid attention to no one, mostly because the people he used to talk to and 'knew' didnt matter anymore. He hadnt known them for 'years' like he thought, so therefore, they werent truly his friends. He didnt even care for the classes anymore. After all, its not like he actually chose them.
So, to pass the time and keep him sane from boredom, he played on his phone. And texted.
Texted to only Angel, of course.
His messages rambled on about nothing and his father corresponded with short replies, as if busy, but it didnt matter, the boy texted relentlessly, enjoying the conversations. But after a couple of hours, the messages got farther apart, and during one class, stopped all together, then after a while, started up again, the last messages displaying stupid smiley faces.
:Haha. Connor, I have to work!:
Connor grinned. :Then quit replying back:
:No. Never:
Connor smiled, finally noticing a shadow that loomed over him. He looked up and thats when the teacher caught him.
"Is that a phone?" came her accusing and strict voice.
"Yeah," he replied, shoving the cell back into his pocket.
"Theyre not allowed to be on in class, you know."
"Yeah."
She looked closely at him. "Who were you talking to?"
"Nobody."
She raised her eyebrows. "Didnt seem like nobody."
The boy suddenly grinned. "No. It wasnt."
The woman looked taken back at the honest answer. "Sorry, but I have to give you detention."
"Okay," Connor said, smirking to himself. More texts for the guy, he thought evilly.
"With me, in here, after school."
The boy nodded.
"Without the phone," the teacher added, walking away.
Connor's face quickly fell.
lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost
After finally getting a small reprieve from paperwork and the like, Angel quickly texted his son, reminding the boy he would get Gunn to pick him up after 4pm, and to have his night things packed. After a second, Connor replied with an :Ok: and Angel instantly filed it away, adding to his already 47 messages saved from the kid. And not any one of them would he delete.
Unless his mailbox overflowed, that is.
After putting the cell away, he got down to business, but it wasnt even five minutes later that his mind quickly wandered back to his boy. He switched on his desk intercom.
"Harmony, can you try and grab Gunn for me? I need to talk to him."
"Um he's out on assignment, boss."
"What? Why? And where?"
"Some case he's been working on for the past week. The contact finally fell through and he went to go check it out. All I know is that it involves a lower-level sewer demon and that he's got it under control. Oh! And that he wont be back until tonight."
"Dammit, I told him not to leave today!" They had just gone over it the night before. How could Gunn forget so quickly? "I thought all my employees werent supposed to go out on assignment without telling me first" Angel growled into the black box, annoyance clearly being heard in his voice.
"He said he ran it by you, boss," Harmony said. "And that you told him to go ahead."
"When was this? I never said that!"
"Earlier today. Look, we all noticed you've been on Cloud 9 lately. Is there something wrong?"
The vampire sighed. They were all right. He had been so preoccupied with Connor and not thinking about anything else at all that he practically ignored everything that anybody said to him. It was no wonder he gave the "OK" to Gunn- he didnt even remember talking to the ex-gang member.
"No, nothing's wrong." He sighed again. "Alright, well, find me Wesley, would you?"
"Sure. Ive got the locale on him now." Suddenly, a British voice filled the air.
"Angel, is something the matter?"
"No, no, nothing's wrong. I just need a favor is all. Gunn was suppose to do it for me, but he's busy now. Can you come to my office?" It was a rhetorical question and he didnt want a negative reply.
Which he got.
"Actually, I cant really do anything at the moment. Im being held in the infirmary."
"...Why?"
"Its just a basic quarantine-"
"For what?"
"I was in Chemist Lab 2 this morning when a gas broke free from a boiler. It obviously wasnt lethal and the room was cleared out already, but some workers are sick now with a somewhat minor case of the flu, the doctors have deduced. I have to stay here for the day and await the rest of my physical. I should be out by toni-"
Angel gave a frustrated sigh and cut off the connection, hunching over his desk and not achieving the professional look he tried to go for every day. Couldnt people tell him things before going off and doing them anymore? He couldnt wait until nightfall. He told Connor that he would have him picked up in a couple of hours.
"Harmony, who else that I talk to is available right now?"
"Um, that would be...uhhhh-"
"-Im bored," came a loud voice from the doorway.
"Where's Lorne? Does Lilah still know how to drive?" Angel looked at the box quickly and hopefully as a perturbed-looking platinum-haired vampire waltzed further into the office.
"Her body wont make it out the door, boss, you know that. Its in the contract. And the green guy never showed up today. There's Spike, though..."
Angel sighed yet again, not believing it was coming down to this. Was there really no one else? He trusted Eve just about as far as he could throw her...which was pretty far, so point not made, and figured Illyria couldnt even switch on a laptop, much less a car.
There really was no one else.
And he knew he would hate himself later for even considering this.
"Spike!" Angel put on an amazing smile. "Spiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiike," he laughed, trying to sound friendly and good-natured.
Spike instantly grew suspicious. "What," he drawled out, eyes narrowing further.
"We've known each other for what, two hundred years? Have I mentioned I like that jacket-?"
"-Whatever it is, Im not doing it, so you can forget it, Nancy Boy!"
"Hey! I dont like this any more than you do, but Im des-" He shut his mouth quickly, folding his hands atop his desk, and opting to glare. He wouldnt ever say that word, especially to the fellow vampire.
"Youre what?" Spike asked, moving to stand in front of the desk.
Angel took in a deep breath. "I need a favor."
"A favor?" Spike's eyes widened as he threw his arms into the air. "Well this is bloody rich! I just did you a favor last night and now you want another? Greedy bastard! Well, Im not doing it!"
"This is important. So important, in fact, I dont know why Im actually asking you..."
"Well, suck it up and move on, I say-"
"-Spike!" Angel breathed in deeply again, trying to control his temper. "I need you to pick up somebody for me."
"Pick up? Who?"
"Connor."
Spike raised his eyebrows. "The kiddie? Why?"
"He's going to be staying with me tonight at the hotel," Angel smiled, leaning back. "But I need somebody to go get him. He lives about an hour out."
"Why dont you do it?"
"I have to work late and besides...the closer he is to me the better, so I need him picked up in a couple of hours."
"Uh huh, well, Id love to help, really I would, but you see, there's this thing I have to do and if I dont-" He stopped suddenly and trained mischievously darkening eyes on the older immortal. "Wait. By 'go get', you do mean drive,...dont you?"
Angel groaned inwardly, knowing where this was headed. "Yes, Spike, drive. I need you to get into a car and go get my son."
The other vampire grinned widely. "Well, then, why didnt you say so! Of courseId be happy to! After all, he is family!"
"Not your family, but...good. Now, here's the address, get there, then go straight to the hotel, nowhere else...uhh unless he needs something like food or...or..." Angel frowned, but then reached into his pockets and pulled out some $20s, smiling brilliantly. "Whatever he wants, Spike, and you can have your pick of any ca-"
"I want the Firebird."
"...What?"
"You said any of my pick!" Spike argued, folding his arms in front of him like a stubborn child.
"Except that one!"
"Why not!"
"Because!"
"No Firebird, no Blue Eyes to mush over in your bed." Ya wussy-arse nonbloodsucker, Spike added mentally.
"..." Angel growled low in his throat before slamming down the set of keys on his desk with a THWACK. "Fine, but if there's one scratch- one scratch, Spike- on my baby, youre paying for it. And if one hair is missing from my other, Im delivering you to hell myself, got it?"
"What if a big gust of wind pops one out sudde-?"
"-Spike..." Angel warned, eyes practically shooting fire.
Spike made a mad grab for the keys and backed away out of the office quickly, mouth upturned in a wry smile. A 1977 Pontiac Firebird Trans Am. Pitch black with a silver streak looping around the middle and white leather interior.
Best feature was the sunlight-proof windows, though.
Well, besides the comfy seats.
Spike's immortal body practically tingled as he imagined himself seated behind the wheel of Angel's most prized possession, rubbing his arse all over the clean leather. He practically leaped with glee as he dashed towards Wolfram & Hart's large parking garage, workers staring at him like he had lost his marbles, but he didnt care, because the prized car was waiting for him.
So,...what was he suppose to do again?
Connor waited outside his house, kicking the gravel, and feeling accomplished. School flew by fast, he had gotten out of his detention by realizing, hey, he could just not go (it was the last day and they couldnt drag him back even if they wanted to!), and Emily had actually let him go through with his "payment plan" for Christmas.
Plus, Dormon hadnt come home yet and Len didnt drop by all day.
Connor zipped up his jacket and powered on his phone, hearing the jingle of a voicemail, but he didnt bother listening to it, because he could already see a car coming down the road towards him. It was a black, tinted Firebird, something cheesy that only a guy from the streets would of course drive. Jeez, Gunn was stuck in the retro era.
But as it came near, stopped beside him, and he opened his side door, he saw not the familiar black man but a vampire instead.
"Get in the bloody car, you twit! The sun burns, you know!"
Connor hurried in with his things. "I thought-"
"-Yeah. Spike, the taxi, at your bloody service," the immortal grumbled, turning the car around.
"Am I being kidnapped? Because...Ive never been kidnapped before, besides of course that one time..."
Spike just shot him a crazy look. "Are you kidding me? Look, your Da only gave me this job because there was nobody else today, key word being today. Im not doing this again. And thanks, by the way, for not protecting my crumpled arse the other day- I dont think my pride wouldve taken it too well. But I almost had a heart attack, not that I could get one, when I woke up and you werent there. Im not thankful for that. You know, your daddy woulda shish-kabobbed my fluffy arse if anything happened to you."
Connor pursed his lips at the small lecture he was getting and stared out the dark window. Spike obviously hadnt heard what had happened to him.
The vampire quieted and Connor turned to his cell for entertainment, but after a while, he grew bored and stared back out the window, lost in thought. The immortal was an obvious like-wise, but it wasnt ten minutes later even that he got restless and oddly enough, talkative. He was curious about the boy, even though he didnt want to admit it outloud.
"Sooooo...Lovely weather we're having," the vampire quipped, almost sarcastic. He searched his brain and realized...He didnt know what the hell to talk about with Angel's kid!
Connor just nodded, not even looking over. "Ahuh."
"Bloody hell, its cold."
"Yep."
"Makes me almost wish the sun could just roast my undead body through these queer-shaped windows."
"Ahuh."
"Actually, I take that back."
"'K"
"Wish there was snow..."
"Ahuh."
"Nothin' like the grand ol' white stuff to piss on."
"..."
"Well, I dont know what to talk about," Spike shrugged after a while.
Connor just turned away again, not even attempting to think about conversation, but seeing a Christmas tree through a shop window, he suddenly remembered what he still had to do. "Hey, can we stop off at the mall? Not the Bev Center," he put in quickly, "but some other one close by. I need to do something."
"And have me burst into a ball of flames? I think not."
"Please?" Connor pleaded, but his face was calm. "We can get in through the parking garage. Its all covered."
"Nuh uh, no way, and definately no how-"
-The trip to the Westside Pavilion, then, started out just the same.
"Soooo..."
Connor looked over at him curiously, waiting, and out of the corner of his eye, Spike couldve sworn he saw a younger miniature Darla in the boy's place.
"You dont look like him, you know. You look like...her..." His voice sounded somber and he hated it, but being in the presence of Darla's flesh and blood was slowly unnerving him.
Connor scratched behind his ear and looked out the window, shrugging. "Yeah, I know, but I look like Angel, too. I can see it."
"Do you actually look?"
"Yes," Connor answered truthfully.
Spike was quiet for awhile, then turned to look at him again. "How do you know?"
"What?"
"That you look like her...How do you know? Youve never seen her, mini-mate. I know she was gone before you were even 'born'." He knew the kid had caught the way he said the word, and grew uncomfortable while looking back out at the road, not understanding why exactly he cared.
But Connor merely shrugged everything away again, still gazing at the buildings flying by.
The silence carried all the way through the parking garage and into the mall, before Connor finally broke it, curiosity-driven, as Spike swaggered ahead, looking at many clothes with utter distaste.
"So, how do you and my dad know each other?" It was so easy to say 'dad' when Angel wasnt actually around.
"What?"
"I know you guys are in that whole 'club' and all," Connor coded, aware of the people walking by, "but are you actually related or something?"
Spike frowned, fingering a jacket absently. "We're...related. Actually, our relation sort of has us like brothers," he said, indicating to the boy then himself.
"What do you mean?" Connor asked, confused.
"Well, he sired me. Not literally; that was done by a vampire woman that was suppose to be with me..." Spike's jaw clenched as he continued. "I would never consider him a father; that thought disgusts me," he cringed, "but in a way, he sort of was one when I was left to become what I am. No, Angelus was. Angel is just a poof."
Connor raised his eyebrows at that and said nothing. The immortal seemed to be holding something against Angel, and he didnt understand how Spike considered them to be brothers. He was Angel's son, his true flesh and blood, while Spike was born from other people and looked to be about the same age as his dad.
Spike and Angel were more closely to be brothers, not him and the platinum-haired vampire, but he had seen how the two acted around one another. They fought, but not like a family. They fought like friends trying to accept the fact that they were indeed friends.
Or...maybe they did act like family- family that was trying to begrudgingly admit they had history that was very much important.
Connor shrugged away the thought, figuring it was something that had to be felt when you were a vampire. Although, strangely enough, the thought of Angel having another son...irked him.
He changed the subject. "So what would a woman want for Christmas?"
Spike's eyes shone with malicious glee at that question. "I knew I liked you! Lets see! I think he'd like something frilly and lacey...Oooh! Get him some nice velvetty underjohns! I'll even help you pick them out! Oh, the possibilities to embarrass the hell out of the good poof! Im going to enjoy this!" He pranced around the store, jumping from aisle to aisle, as the boy just rolled his eyes. "Or how 'bout this shirt? Its pink! I know he just adores pink! Well looky here- matching pants! Muwahahahahaaaaa!"
"I like pink. Its the color of innocent love." Spike stopped his antics enough to give him a funny look.
"I read it in a book," Connor shrugged.
"...Uh huh..."
"And I wasnt talking about Angel. I was talking about Emily,...the woman Im staying with."
Spike suddenly looked disinterested. "I dont know, perfume?" They searched around the area for perfumes and Connor picked out one that smelled nice for her, then also got her the purse next to it on display. As he pulled out his wad of cash to pay for the items, the vampire whistled. "Bloody damn, lad, whacha do, rob the blind?"
Connor frowned, wondering if he should just come clean. "...No, I pawned all my stuff. Well, all that could be pawned."
Spike gazed at him shocked. They, then, made their way to the cologne parts, only because Connor smelt something familiar. It was a certain scent- Angel's scent. He scanned the shelves, sniffing, then stopped in front of one particular box, picking it up. Obsession (Night) For Men. He sniffed the black and blue box again then let loose a small smile.
Spices and some kind of musky smell.
"I know those boxes. Thats Angel's brand," Spike put in and Connor nodded, looking at the price. Jeez, it was $50 and that was only for the smallest one! He glanced over and saw a white box next to it. Obsession (Day). It was so fitting- Angel for the night and Connor for the day. The boy smiled ruefully at that. Day was $40. He couldnt buy both, he frowned, so after little thought, he plucked the black box off the shelf.
"Gonna get that for him?" Spike questioned.
Connor shook his head and gave a secretive smile. "No. For myself."
"Well, dont you take the fun out of the seasons."
They walked around some more, Spike actually buying things (with Angel's money, haha) and Connor finally feeling ashamed that he had spent so much money on himself, but his pride wouldnt allow him to ask Angel for it because the vampire would know instantly why, so he had fallen into the temptation of buying it on his own. He had to have it. It smelt of his father.
He picked out a diary for the Brat and reluctantly got a wallet for Dormon, just so that Connor wouldnt feel bad on Christmas morning when Dormon received nothing from him, even though he didnt think he would feel bad at all...
He didnt want to choose favorites with Gunn, Spike, that man Wes, and the blue-haired goddess, even though Gunn did give him some cash, so he opted for some fancy cards, hoping they would like them instead. Plus, itd be awkward to give gifts to people he didnt even know well.
After all that was taken care of, he, then, went on a hunt for the most important present.
A gift for his father, Angel.
He didnt want anything simple, yet he couldnt afford anything expensive, since he now only had about $70 to work with, but he didnt want anything too mushy either, like something with 'LOVE' written all over it, and after a good hour of searching and hearing Spike complain in the background, he was just about to give up...
Until something caught his eye.
It was being sold at one of those stands in the center of the mall. Ditching Spike, he quickly walked over to the displays.
"Whats this?" He asked the clerk while holding up the chain. And on that chain was a silver tag of metal with a picture stenciled in. No, not stenciled, or engraved since their were no lines going in, but the picture wasnt stuck or pasted on. He looked at the man, confused, as the clerk stared back at him like he was stupid.
"Its a pendant."
"I know that. How did you get the picture on it?"
The guy patted the machine next to him. "This baby prints them on there."
"How much?"
"$40 not including the chain. Chains are $25.99 each and you can get either gold or sterling silver- your choice."
Connor nodded. "And can you get any picture on here?"
The clerk rolled his eyes, not at all thinking he was going to make a sale of the boy. "Yeah, any kind of picture you want. Real or otherwise."
"Even...from off a phone?"
"Yes, kid."
Connor grinned.
lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost
(A/N):
Shit, I want me some throwing knives!
...Wow, no relevance at all...