Title: Uncertain Paths
Disclaimer: I own nothing, don't sue.
Authors notes: First I'd like to apologize for how long this has taken to get up, however you will be happy to know I'm planning to work on the next, longer chapter tomorrow. I finally have some free time. Thank you to everyone who's been reviewing, you've been a huge source of encouragement. Also I'd like to put out a warning: this fic will contain instances of corporal punishment, flames against it will be ignored.
Connor glared stubbornly out the window as Cordelia placed a tray with chicken soup and a glass of water by his bed. He'd refused to speak to any of the gang, including Angel for the past three days. He barely grunted in reply too a few questions, but for the most part ignored everyone. Connor could feel Cordelia's eyes drilling holes into the back of his head, and was surprised when she left without a word. She'd been almost as persistent as Angel trying to get a response from him. Everyone had tried to talk to him, even Gunn had come up once yesterday, after spending an hour getting only silence and a few grunts in response to his comments and questions Gunn had stormed out. Fred had been annoyingly persistent, sitting by his bed for over two hours yesterday rambling on and on about a variety of subjects including socks and the merits of tacos vs. pizza inter sped with endless questions on whether he needed something, like he couldn't do anything by himself. Cordelia was flitting in and out of his room constantly, asking if he wanted something to drink, was he too hot or too cold, and worst of all if he needed to go to the bathroom. Angel disappeared for the most part during the day, checking on him once or twice, but at night he was constantly checking up on him, and seemed to have a sixth sense as to when Connor was going to try to get up on his own.
Angel, Cordelia, and Lorne lounged comfortably around the lobby, Fred and Gunn had gone out after sunset to investigate a demonic bug infestation. Cordelia was at the front desk working on a file, Angel was reading over her shoulder helping or hindering as Cordelia called it, and Lorne was leaning up against the counter leafing through a magazine. "He's still refusing to speak to anyone." Cordelia said, her tone even.
Angel sighed and ran his hand through his hair, "I know."
"He can't keep doing this."
"I know Cordelia."
"He's."
"I know, Cordelia," Angel interrupted, "I am perfectly aware that my son is behaving like a spoiled brat, and I really have no idea how to deal with it, particularly as at the moment he's in no shape to be dealt with!"
Cordelia sighed and nodded, "I know, but how long are you going to let this go on, if you, if we don't stop this now he's going to think he can get away with treating people like this."
"When his fever breaks, and he's not going to vomit his way out of any punishment I can give him, I'll do something, okay Cordelia."
Cordelia nodded, almost satisfied, "and how do you intend to deal with him then?" she pressed.
Angel groaned, "I don't know," he grated out.
"What would your father have done, Angelcakes?" Lorne asked, looking up from his magazine.
Angel thought back and remembered numerous times when he'd been disrespectful to his parents. "My father usually took his belt to my backside."
Cordelia raised an eyebrow, "sounds good to me."
"You do realise I ate my father?"
"Connor's already sunk you to the bottom of the ocean, what do you have to lose?" Cordy went back to her file while Angel had a thoughtful expression on his face.
Connor, oblivious to the conversation downstairs, was sitting in bed sulking. He was bored, someone had brought in a few books and magazines, but he had read the books and didn't understand most of the stuff in the magazines. Cordelia had told him if he wanted something else all he had to do was ask, but, as he wasn't speaking to any of them he couldn't ask. He had to go to the bathroom, but he wasn't about to call for help, he started to shift around, he really had to go. Connor glared at the door, he absolutely hated being so dependent on anyone. He continued to squirm, he was tempted to try to make it to the bathroom himself, but he'd tried that a few days ago and had ended up throwing up, and losing control of his bladder at the same time. Connor finally decided calling for help would be better than going through that again.
Angel was still downstairs when he cocked his head to one side and looked up the stairs. Cordelia noticed the glance and asked what was wrong.
"Connor's shifting around in bed a lot, he's probably got to go to the washroom again." Angel started to make his way up the stairs when Cordelia told him to stop.
"Wait until he calls you," when Angel looked as if he was about to argue she reasonably pointed out, "if he doesn't learn to ask for help now, everyone's going to have a much harder time during the next month."
Angel nodded reluctantly and remained downstairs, but listening carefully for any signs of Connor trying to get up by himself, after another couple of minutes they all heard a slightly petulant, "Angel," from upstairs. Cordelia smiled triumphantly as Angel went upstairs.
When Angel got to Connor's door the teen was laying on the covers looking very frustrated and angry, he didn't even notice Angel until he spoke, "Connor, do you need something?" Connor jerked his head up, and glared at Angel, he was upset and angry that he had been surprised. When Connor didn't answer Angel stared at him for a few moments before turning away, "If you don't need anything I'll go back to work."
"No."
Angel turned back and raised an eyebrow, carefully keeping a neutral expression on his face, "Yes?"
Connor glared for another moment before ducking his head and mumbling, "I need to go to the washroom." He didn't look up as Angel crossed the room.
Angel lifted Connor's chin up with a finger and said, "Connor it's okay to ask for help, there's no shame in it." Connor didn't respond except to jerk his head away. He heard Angel sigh, he seemed to do that a lot, and was scooped up and carried into the small washroom. By now Connor was familiar with the routine, do his business and then give a yell so Angel could help him over to the sink and then back to bed. After Angel deposited Connor back into his bed he opened his mouth to say something when Connor rolled onto his stomach and said, "go away."
SMACK!!! Connor was shocked when Angel's hand landed sharply on his backside. He flipped over quickly, wincing and reaching a hand back to rub. His stomach gave a small lurch at the quick movement but it was quickly brushed aside as Angel glared down at him. Angel loomed over him, looking completely fed up. "What do you think you're doing?!" Connor demanded angrily, "you can't do that!"
"Really, and what makes you think that? I'm sick of you acting like a brat Connor, it stops right now! I don't care how angry you are, or how much you don't want to be here, you will start to show some respect and some manners. No one is going to put up with this childish attitude any longer, do you hear me?!"
Connor smirked, "whatever."
Connor shrunk back slightly at the thunderous expression on Angel's face. Angel leaned down until his nose was almost touching his son's. "I can flip you back over and finish what I just started if your attitude doesn't change right now."
The quiet promise in Angel's voice almost made Connor back down but his natural stubbornness overode his sense of self-preservation. "You wouldn't," however he couldn't keep the slight tremor out of his voice.
Angel was slightly amazed at how much guts his kid had, but kept the same angry mask on his face as he said quietly, "I'm going to ask you one more time if you understand what I just said about your behaviour and how it needs to change, think very carefully about your answer because if you give me the wrong one you will not enjoy the consequences."
Connor held Angel's gaze defiantly for a moment before dropping it to his lap.
"Connor do you understand?" Connor refused to look up. Angel waited a moment and then used his finger to lift Connor's chin up, "do you understand?" the words were spoken slowly and with precision, and carried an unmistakable warning.
"Yes sir," the soft reply was enough for Angel who nodded and stepped back. He studied his son for a moment, Connor looked slightly dejected and decidedly sullen. Angel opened his mouth to say something, but decided to give his son time to cool off, with a quiet and unreturned good night he went back downstairs.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, don't sue.
Authors notes: First I'd like to apologize for how long this has taken to get up, however you will be happy to know I'm planning to work on the next, longer chapter tomorrow. I finally have some free time. Thank you to everyone who's been reviewing, you've been a huge source of encouragement. Also I'd like to put out a warning: this fic will contain instances of corporal punishment, flames against it will be ignored.
Connor glared stubbornly out the window as Cordelia placed a tray with chicken soup and a glass of water by his bed. He'd refused to speak to any of the gang, including Angel for the past three days. He barely grunted in reply too a few questions, but for the most part ignored everyone. Connor could feel Cordelia's eyes drilling holes into the back of his head, and was surprised when she left without a word. She'd been almost as persistent as Angel trying to get a response from him. Everyone had tried to talk to him, even Gunn had come up once yesterday, after spending an hour getting only silence and a few grunts in response to his comments and questions Gunn had stormed out. Fred had been annoyingly persistent, sitting by his bed for over two hours yesterday rambling on and on about a variety of subjects including socks and the merits of tacos vs. pizza inter sped with endless questions on whether he needed something, like he couldn't do anything by himself. Cordelia was flitting in and out of his room constantly, asking if he wanted something to drink, was he too hot or too cold, and worst of all if he needed to go to the bathroom. Angel disappeared for the most part during the day, checking on him once or twice, but at night he was constantly checking up on him, and seemed to have a sixth sense as to when Connor was going to try to get up on his own.
Angel, Cordelia, and Lorne lounged comfortably around the lobby, Fred and Gunn had gone out after sunset to investigate a demonic bug infestation. Cordelia was at the front desk working on a file, Angel was reading over her shoulder helping or hindering as Cordelia called it, and Lorne was leaning up against the counter leafing through a magazine. "He's still refusing to speak to anyone." Cordelia said, her tone even.
Angel sighed and ran his hand through his hair, "I know."
"He can't keep doing this."
"I know Cordelia."
"He's."
"I know, Cordelia," Angel interrupted, "I am perfectly aware that my son is behaving like a spoiled brat, and I really have no idea how to deal with it, particularly as at the moment he's in no shape to be dealt with!"
Cordelia sighed and nodded, "I know, but how long are you going to let this go on, if you, if we don't stop this now he's going to think he can get away with treating people like this."
"When his fever breaks, and he's not going to vomit his way out of any punishment I can give him, I'll do something, okay Cordelia."
Cordelia nodded, almost satisfied, "and how do you intend to deal with him then?" she pressed.
Angel groaned, "I don't know," he grated out.
"What would your father have done, Angelcakes?" Lorne asked, looking up from his magazine.
Angel thought back and remembered numerous times when he'd been disrespectful to his parents. "My father usually took his belt to my backside."
Cordelia raised an eyebrow, "sounds good to me."
"You do realise I ate my father?"
"Connor's already sunk you to the bottom of the ocean, what do you have to lose?" Cordy went back to her file while Angel had a thoughtful expression on his face.
Connor, oblivious to the conversation downstairs, was sitting in bed sulking. He was bored, someone had brought in a few books and magazines, but he had read the books and didn't understand most of the stuff in the magazines. Cordelia had told him if he wanted something else all he had to do was ask, but, as he wasn't speaking to any of them he couldn't ask. He had to go to the bathroom, but he wasn't about to call for help, he started to shift around, he really had to go. Connor glared at the door, he absolutely hated being so dependent on anyone. He continued to squirm, he was tempted to try to make it to the bathroom himself, but he'd tried that a few days ago and had ended up throwing up, and losing control of his bladder at the same time. Connor finally decided calling for help would be better than going through that again.
Angel was still downstairs when he cocked his head to one side and looked up the stairs. Cordelia noticed the glance and asked what was wrong.
"Connor's shifting around in bed a lot, he's probably got to go to the washroom again." Angel started to make his way up the stairs when Cordelia told him to stop.
"Wait until he calls you," when Angel looked as if he was about to argue she reasonably pointed out, "if he doesn't learn to ask for help now, everyone's going to have a much harder time during the next month."
Angel nodded reluctantly and remained downstairs, but listening carefully for any signs of Connor trying to get up by himself, after another couple of minutes they all heard a slightly petulant, "Angel," from upstairs. Cordelia smiled triumphantly as Angel went upstairs.
When Angel got to Connor's door the teen was laying on the covers looking very frustrated and angry, he didn't even notice Angel until he spoke, "Connor, do you need something?" Connor jerked his head up, and glared at Angel, he was upset and angry that he had been surprised. When Connor didn't answer Angel stared at him for a few moments before turning away, "If you don't need anything I'll go back to work."
"No."
Angel turned back and raised an eyebrow, carefully keeping a neutral expression on his face, "Yes?"
Connor glared for another moment before ducking his head and mumbling, "I need to go to the washroom." He didn't look up as Angel crossed the room.
Angel lifted Connor's chin up with a finger and said, "Connor it's okay to ask for help, there's no shame in it." Connor didn't respond except to jerk his head away. He heard Angel sigh, he seemed to do that a lot, and was scooped up and carried into the small washroom. By now Connor was familiar with the routine, do his business and then give a yell so Angel could help him over to the sink and then back to bed. After Angel deposited Connor back into his bed he opened his mouth to say something when Connor rolled onto his stomach and said, "go away."
SMACK!!! Connor was shocked when Angel's hand landed sharply on his backside. He flipped over quickly, wincing and reaching a hand back to rub. His stomach gave a small lurch at the quick movement but it was quickly brushed aside as Angel glared down at him. Angel loomed over him, looking completely fed up. "What do you think you're doing?!" Connor demanded angrily, "you can't do that!"
"Really, and what makes you think that? I'm sick of you acting like a brat Connor, it stops right now! I don't care how angry you are, or how much you don't want to be here, you will start to show some respect and some manners. No one is going to put up with this childish attitude any longer, do you hear me?!"
Connor smirked, "whatever."
Connor shrunk back slightly at the thunderous expression on Angel's face. Angel leaned down until his nose was almost touching his son's. "I can flip you back over and finish what I just started if your attitude doesn't change right now."
The quiet promise in Angel's voice almost made Connor back down but his natural stubbornness overode his sense of self-preservation. "You wouldn't," however he couldn't keep the slight tremor out of his voice.
Angel was slightly amazed at how much guts his kid had, but kept the same angry mask on his face as he said quietly, "I'm going to ask you one more time if you understand what I just said about your behaviour and how it needs to change, think very carefully about your answer because if you give me the wrong one you will not enjoy the consequences."
Connor held Angel's gaze defiantly for a moment before dropping it to his lap.
"Connor do you understand?" Connor refused to look up. Angel waited a moment and then used his finger to lift Connor's chin up, "do you understand?" the words were spoken slowly and with precision, and carried an unmistakable warning.
"Yes sir," the soft reply was enough for Angel who nodded and stepped back. He studied his son for a moment, Connor looked slightly dejected and decidedly sullen. Angel opened his mouth to say something, but decided to give his son time to cool off, with a quiet and unreturned good night he went back downstairs.