Disclaimer: They belong to the WB etc.
Summary: Okay this is the first chapter, we're just gonna take a little look see at Angel's relationships with his father and sister back in the day, then see how everyone is dealing now that Angel has been back on land for two months.
Cordy's still missing, Lorne is still in Vegas, Connor has learned the truth, and Angel and Wesley have started to patch things up. To learn more, read the damn story. Enjoy!
Chapter 1: Sorry
Galway 1753
Jim watched unnoticed in the door frame as his two children sat together by the fireplace, and for a moment, just one moment, all was right with the world.
Liam was comfortably resting in an armchair with his legs stretched out on a footrest, a book in one hand. His other hand rested on Katherine's shoulder as she knelt next to the chair, hanging on his every word as he read to her. If only Jim could convince Liam to read more often. At least the boy was home tonight. It was a Godsend not having to worry about his late night activities. Perhaps heaven would find a place for him yet.
The siblings were so alike yet so different. Both had inherited their mother's looks; deep brown hair and eyes, contrasted with pale skin. Both were fair to the eye, also like their mother in her youth. Both loved the fairy tales they had been taught as children, Liam by the maid, and Katherine by Liam, who had been an adolescent when the second child was born. Both had beautiful smiles, though Liam's had not been in evidence so much of late, at least not where Jim was concerned. Both were dreamers. All the similarities were apparent in the scene before the fireplace.
.It was not the similarities that bothered Jim so much as the differences. While Katherine was a tiny eight year old child, innocent, eager, intelligent, and impressionable, Liam was a man of large build, questionable morals and perpetual laziness. Jim had come close to giving up on the boy.
It wasn't that Liam, lacked intelligence. He just lacked the will to put that intelligence to good use.
It had once been Jim's wish to see the family business go to Liam when he reached an age of retirement, but Jim had had to face up to the fact that his son was ill suited for any position of responsibility. Habits of drinking and debauchery were near impossible to break, and Liam was stubborn. More so with each passing day.
As a young child Liam had been very social, active and loud. Almost the opposite of the quiet girl he now read to in animated tones by the fire. A girl who might have been his twin had they been the same age.
Jim sighed, and suddenly felt conflicted. Should he walk into the room and intervene? Should Katherine be spending this time in Liam's presence? She was still so naïve. She looked up to her brother, despite the regular and disruptive arguments that rocked the house every time Liam came home hungover, and bruised from brawling.
Jim suspected that Liam had begun to intentionally lead Katherine away from Jim to spite him. She was a good child who obeyed her parents, but her affections lay with the brother who had invented crazy tales of adventures in faraway lands to entertain her when she was sad or lonely. Liam was creative if nothing else.
Jim's thoughts had taken him away, and so it was with a small shock that he realized Katherine had climbed into Liam's lap and fallen asleep, and that Liam had finally noticed their fathers presence, and now watched him in return with a somewhat hostile expression.
"Spyin' on me Father?" he murmured, careful not to wake the child in his arms.
"I've a right to watch over my children Liam," Jim responded sternly. Liam smiled. Not the beautiful smile Jim had remembered earlier, but a bitter twisted smirk.
"I'll not be corruptin' her with "wicked ungodly ways" if that's ya thought Father," he said, a challenge in his voice. I dare you to take her away from me.
"I'll be puttin' her to bed now Liam. Hand her over." Jim waited. Liam made no move, and a staring competition ensued. Moments passed uncomfortably before Jim's steely gaze won, as usual, over Liam's emotional glare.
Without a word Liam handed the girl over to their father, who gently carried her down the hall and away from her brother. Left alone by the fire Liam cursed to himself, angry and frustrated. Then quietly he went for the front door, and then into the street outside.
Jim returned to the fireplace, expecting the boy to be waiting there for him. All he found was Liam's storybook sitting on the footrest. He cursed to himself, angry and frustrated. That boy would be the death of him yet.
L.A. 2002
Connor stared down at his book, wracking his brains for the answer. He'd studied for this. He'd remember eventually.
"Time's up!" came a prim British voice. Connor groaned.
"I'm not finished." he said, allowing the statement to come across as a threat.
"No?" asked Wesley, "Well lets have a look anyway. We need to see where you're at so we can determine how best to procede with your education."
"Why do I need this anyway?" Connor demanded, kicking his chair in the leg.
"We've been through this," Wesley said distractedly, picking up the reading comprehension test and beginning to read. "If you wish to function as a useful member of this society it is best you have an education."
"Right," came the sullen reply. "When do I get to fight demons again?"
"When your father's convinced you're ready." Wesley recited, still not looking up from the test.
"I've been killing demons since a was big enough to hold a knife, I was ready a long time ago."
Wesley froze in the motion of turning a page, and took a quick deep breath, but quickly recovered before giving Conner a sympathetic look. His words were not quite so sympathetic.
"Demon fighting is important, and I'm sure your father will be happy to help you with your fighting skills, but learning language, and, and, and, history, and mythology. It all has its place and it's best you learn it."
Connor looked down, "I don't think he'll want to teach me any more fighting skills after last time," he said quietly.
"What's that?" asked Wesley, who was back to reading the test.
"Nothing," Conner replied.
"Hmm. Well I suppose that's all for now. You haven't done too badly here. Spelling's not so good, but your comprehension is impressive, considering you've never attempted one of these before. I'll take it home with me. See what I can do about grading it." Connor looked depressed at the notion of being graded, and Wesley having noticed, quickly changed the topic, "This is all rather new to me too you know. This teacher student relationship. I feel that if we get off on the right foot, we can make this work. We each put in the work, and soon you'll be able to read and research as well as any . . ."
He trailed off, realizing that Connor still looked less than thrilled.
"I'm sure he'll come around soon," he said quietly.
"Right," said Connor, smiling suddenly for Wesley's benefit.
Wesley had come into Connor's life about a week ago. Connor liked the man, but found his manor confusing. Sometimes he behaved like a truly professional teacher, reminding him a little of Holtz during those long hours Connor had first learned how to read. Other times Connor would catch him staring at him with an odd look on his face. Pity?
It was almost as if just looking at Connor put Wesley in some kind of pain.
The only information Connor had been given about the man was that he was an expert on demons, and that he and his father were trying to resolve some past conflict that no one had volunteered much information on.
The two were civil with one another, but far from friendly. Wesley had however, for whatever reason, accepted the position of tutor.
There had been a long discussion between his father, Fred and Gunn about how they would go about giving Connor an education. Connor understood that other people his age went to a place called "high school", but his father had not wanted him to go there, for the same reason he refused to allow Connor to fight demons.
"He doesn't know this world. He acts on instinct. He doesn't know how to act, who to trust. I'm afraid he'll be hurt. I'm afraid innocent bystanders'll be hurt."
And so Wesley had been brought in.
It had been Fred's suggestion, and his father had not reacted well to it, simply walking out of the room after giving Fred a frighteningly withering glare. But decisions must have been made while Connor was not there to listen because two weeks later Wesley had arrived, and Connor's language lessons had begun.
"Well. I'll be going now. Don't forget to read the next chapter of your history text. I'll be here again tomorrow at ten." Wesley was saying, "tell your father when he wakes that . . that I'm working on finding her. Something will turn up soon."
"Alright."
"Alright. Goodbye."
"Bye,"
And Wesley was gone.
Right on schedule, thought Connor, looking at his watch. The sun would set in a few minutes and his father would be up soon. Wesley tended to avoid Angel as much as possible.
"Wesley gone already?"
Connor jumped. His father had entered the lobby undetected as usual. It always frightened Connor when he did that.
"Yeah. He's gone."
"Has he found anything yet?" Angel's face was deceptively blank. Connor knew how much finding Cordelia really meant to him. He remembered how happy he'd been after that phonecall five months ago. He'd thought he was going to a romantic rendezvous. That his life was finally coming together. The son, the girlfriend, the mission. Instead he'd found himself at the bottom of the ocean, trapped in a steel coffin.
Guilt washed over Connor as he replied "No. Nothing yet. He's trying though."
"Yeah."
Angel moved away towards the kitchen. Clearly he considered the short conversation to be over.
Connor drifted after him, feeling lost. It suddenly occurred to him that this was a very different vampire to the one he had first met five months ago. When Connor had first come to this world Angel had been frighteningly intense. His offers of a home and his constant advice, questions and praise had been confusing. Connor had assumed at the time that Angelus was using guile to seduce him into evil. Now he understood that Angel had been desperately trying to establish a relationship with the son who's childhood he'd missed. The realization had been devastating.
This Angel, the one pouring the blood in the hotel kitchen, was a quiet, distant melancholic creature. It made Connor feel abandoned.
When divers had gone down near Point Dume to search for a rich woman's emerald ring, the last thing they had expected to find was a dead body in a steel and glass coffin. Even more suprising was the way the body had disappeared shortly after the coffin had been cracked open.
Angel had stumbled into the Hyperion, bone thin, with bangs long enough to droop into his eyes, and sporting an inch of facial hair. Connor had not recognized him that day. He'd fainted without saying a word.
When he awoke three days later, he'd told Fred and Gunn that Justine had been the one to send him down into the depths. He'd protected Connor, keeping his name out of the story entirely.
He had asked to speak privately with the boy, who had been pretending to grieve for his lost father for three months.
The conversation that had followed had been a hard one. It had started with threats from Conner, but had ended with the realization that Holtz had staged the murder. Angel had forced Connor to remember details about Holtz's body. The puncture wounds without the marks of other teeth surrounding them, the fact that the blood had not actually been drained.
These were details Connor had not thought to look for at the time, but his experience with the victims of vampires since he'd come to live at the Hyperion told him that Angel was telling the truth.
Of course there was still the possibility that Angelus had used other than his teeth to kill Holtz. It would be a long time before Connor could truly trust the vamp. But Angel's logic, combined with the solemn promise to keep Connor's involvement it the boating incident a secret, had been enough for Connor to accept the concept of sharing a home with him.
Since then Angel had cut himself off from his son. He'd set down rules for him, which Connor had reluctantly followed, but emotionally, Connor was alone. The awkwardness of the situation became unbearable at times.
Angel looked up and found Connor staring at him.
"You want something to eat?" he asked. "I think Gunn left some pizza."
"I'm sorry," said Connor, ashamed to feel tears springing up in his eyes. At least they weren't falling down his face. His emotions were suddenly going crazy, pushing at him from all different directions.
In some ways he still hated the vampire that stood before him. He was still a demon, and a lifetimes worth of learning about the evil of demons could not be reversed in a matter of months.
But the old horror of the realization that Holtz had framed this vampire for his own murder, added to the months of loneliness and unresolved issues between himself and Angel suddenly combined to make Conner desperately reach out to the father who had missed his childhood.
Angel just stared, eyes vulnerable for a moment, before looking down at his feet and letting out a long sigh. Obviously he had caught the tone of the two simple words, and the impact was heavy.
Without looking up, he set his glass of blood aside, and moved slowly toward the boy. Connor tensed, watching nervously until Angel's gaze came back up again. The vampire's eyes were dry, but sad, and suddenly he was reaching out and wrapping his arms around his son.
Connor couldn't take it anymore and the tears started spilling over. He was reminded of a similar situation five months ago when he had been sobbing in Cordelia's arms.
Unlike Cordelia, Angel remained silent. No words of comfort. Just a sad, quiet presence.
"I'm so sorry," Connor sobbed into his shoulder.
TBC
This is my first fic. I'd love some reviews!
[email protected]
Chapter 2.
Galway 1753
Liam hadn't come home. Breakfast was an uncomfortable affair.
Katherine noticed her mother and Anna giving Father sideways glances. Liam's name would not be mentioned, but all thought was directed at the empty chair, empty plate, and Jim's tense bearing.
Katherine had hoped Liam would stay home last night, and not incur Father's wrath. She wished she could understand why he did what he did. Why he was so determined to rock the boat. She asked him sometimes.
"Ah, Katherine, you have to see! They stand in your way. They want to hold ya back so you live out the same boring lives that they do, but we're different you and I. We'll see the world together some day. Would ya like that?"
But Liam's dreams were not always Katherine's dreams, and she wished he would find a way to see the world and please their father. At present he was doing neither.
Anna looked nervous. Anything to do with Liam always made the serving girl nervous. Katherine had never understood why.
Jim reached for his mug, took a slow sip, then banged it on the table with an angry "That boy!"
Suddenly he got up and walked out of the room. The women and child, still at the table, could hear the sounds of Jim donning hat and cloak, then the sound of a door opening, then slamming shut.
"He'll find 'im," said Mother, placing a hand on Katherine's shoulder.
Unfortunately that was exactly what Katherine was afraid of.
L.A 2002
It was the first real conversation they'd had since Angel had returned to the hotel. He found himself enjoying it.
He wasn't entirely sure why this breakthrough had happened. The sudden apology had been unexpected to say the least after months of awkward silences, but he was taking full advantage of it, having the kind of heart to heart with the boy that he had only had previously with Lorne or Cordelia. Both of whom were sorely missed.
"Do you miss him" he asked.
"Miss who?"
"Holtz."
"That's a trick question." Connor stated suspiciously.
"No."
"Yes it is. If I don't miss him I'm a horrible person because he was my foster father and he was good to me. But if I do miss him, it means I'm loyal to the man who took your son and framed you for murder."
Angel thought for a moment.
"Maybe you're right. You don't have to answer it." He took a sip of his hot chocolate and looked into the fireplace.
"Do you miss her?"
"Who?"
"Cordelia."
Angel looked at his son for a long time. For a while he had suspected that Connor had something to do with Cordelia's mysterious disappearance. That it had been a part of the boy's revenge. But now he dismissed the idea as paranoia.
"Yes."
"She has demon in her."
"Well I've got demon in me."
"So it is still in you. The evil. It's in you. You don't deny that." It wasn't an accusation as it had been in the past. He was fishing for a clarification.
Angel began searching for an explanation that would make sense to Connor. He wanted to be honest, without scaring the boy away. This conversation was a turning point, and Angel was hoping desperately that he would not screw it up. Connor was watching him closely.
"It is still in me." he said finally, "but it doesn't control me."
Connor considered this for a moment, before nodding slightly.
"Because of the curse," he said.
"Right. Although I see it more as a gift than a curse these days. Being bitten in the first place could be considered a curse."
Connor looked up suddenly, as a thought occurred to him, "Was it my mother that turned you?"
"Yeah it was," Angel replied, "She thought she was doing me a favour,"
He felt very sad as he thought of Darla's last moments. Her love for Connor, and her certainty that had they both lived, she would no longer be able to love her son. He remembered her sacrifice, and her last words.
"She wanted me to tell you something."
Connor raised an eyebrow.
"Tell me something?"
"Mmm. Do you wanna hear it?"
Connor looked uncertain. Angel's senses picked up the racing heartbeat, and sight sweat.
"You don't have to,"
"No, I want to hear it," Connor said, putting on brave face.
"She said . . . She said that you were the only good thing we ever did together. She wanted you to know that."
Connor looked confused.
"But if she was evil . . .why, why would she want me to know that?" The tears were about to spill over again. Angel politely ignored them.
"She was pregnant with you. A human baby with a soul."
"So it was as if she was cursed?"
"Almost."
"Almost."
"She loved you. She tried to pretend she didn't, but she loved you."
"I don't know how to feel about that."
Angel laughed sadly, "Neither do I."
"I've always wondered if there was evil in me."
"There's no evil in you! If that's what Holtz told you . ."
"He didn't. He just told me that I should learn what evil there was in . . . my parents, so that I could fight it in myself."
Angel gripped Connor by the shoulders and forced him to meet his gaze, "There is no evil in you."
Connor smiled a little. "So what do we do now?" He looked at Angel hopefully. Angel knew what this was. Connor was finally, totally accepting Angel as his father. He didn't know how to express it though. He was looking to Angel for guidance.
"We put the past behind us." Connor nodded. "There are no debts between us. We've both made mistakes here. Trusted the wrong people. But now we move forward. And we do it together. Starting right now." He stood up and walked toward the stairs leading down to the basement.
"What . . . Where are you going?"
"Training session. You coming?"
Connor grinned.
TBC
Galway, 1753.
Summary: Okay this is the first chapter, we're just gonna take a little look see at Angel's relationships with his father and sister back in the day, then see how everyone is dealing now that Angel has been back on land for two months.
Cordy's still missing, Lorne is still in Vegas, Connor has learned the truth, and Angel and Wesley have started to patch things up. To learn more, read the damn story. Enjoy!
Chapter 1: Sorry
Galway 1753
Jim watched unnoticed in the door frame as his two children sat together by the fireplace, and for a moment, just one moment, all was right with the world.
Liam was comfortably resting in an armchair with his legs stretched out on a footrest, a book in one hand. His other hand rested on Katherine's shoulder as she knelt next to the chair, hanging on his every word as he read to her. If only Jim could convince Liam to read more often. At least the boy was home tonight. It was a Godsend not having to worry about his late night activities. Perhaps heaven would find a place for him yet.
The siblings were so alike yet so different. Both had inherited their mother's looks; deep brown hair and eyes, contrasted with pale skin. Both were fair to the eye, also like their mother in her youth. Both loved the fairy tales they had been taught as children, Liam by the maid, and Katherine by Liam, who had been an adolescent when the second child was born. Both had beautiful smiles, though Liam's had not been in evidence so much of late, at least not where Jim was concerned. Both were dreamers. All the similarities were apparent in the scene before the fireplace.
.It was not the similarities that bothered Jim so much as the differences. While Katherine was a tiny eight year old child, innocent, eager, intelligent, and impressionable, Liam was a man of large build, questionable morals and perpetual laziness. Jim had come close to giving up on the boy.
It wasn't that Liam, lacked intelligence. He just lacked the will to put that intelligence to good use.
It had once been Jim's wish to see the family business go to Liam when he reached an age of retirement, but Jim had had to face up to the fact that his son was ill suited for any position of responsibility. Habits of drinking and debauchery were near impossible to break, and Liam was stubborn. More so with each passing day.
As a young child Liam had been very social, active and loud. Almost the opposite of the quiet girl he now read to in animated tones by the fire. A girl who might have been his twin had they been the same age.
Jim sighed, and suddenly felt conflicted. Should he walk into the room and intervene? Should Katherine be spending this time in Liam's presence? She was still so naïve. She looked up to her brother, despite the regular and disruptive arguments that rocked the house every time Liam came home hungover, and bruised from brawling.
Jim suspected that Liam had begun to intentionally lead Katherine away from Jim to spite him. She was a good child who obeyed her parents, but her affections lay with the brother who had invented crazy tales of adventures in faraway lands to entertain her when she was sad or lonely. Liam was creative if nothing else.
Jim's thoughts had taken him away, and so it was with a small shock that he realized Katherine had climbed into Liam's lap and fallen asleep, and that Liam had finally noticed their fathers presence, and now watched him in return with a somewhat hostile expression.
"Spyin' on me Father?" he murmured, careful not to wake the child in his arms.
"I've a right to watch over my children Liam," Jim responded sternly. Liam smiled. Not the beautiful smile Jim had remembered earlier, but a bitter twisted smirk.
"I'll not be corruptin' her with "wicked ungodly ways" if that's ya thought Father," he said, a challenge in his voice. I dare you to take her away from me.
"I'll be puttin' her to bed now Liam. Hand her over." Jim waited. Liam made no move, and a staring competition ensued. Moments passed uncomfortably before Jim's steely gaze won, as usual, over Liam's emotional glare.
Without a word Liam handed the girl over to their father, who gently carried her down the hall and away from her brother. Left alone by the fire Liam cursed to himself, angry and frustrated. Then quietly he went for the front door, and then into the street outside.
Jim returned to the fireplace, expecting the boy to be waiting there for him. All he found was Liam's storybook sitting on the footrest. He cursed to himself, angry and frustrated. That boy would be the death of him yet.
L.A. 2002
Connor stared down at his book, wracking his brains for the answer. He'd studied for this. He'd remember eventually.
"Time's up!" came a prim British voice. Connor groaned.
"I'm not finished." he said, allowing the statement to come across as a threat.
"No?" asked Wesley, "Well lets have a look anyway. We need to see where you're at so we can determine how best to procede with your education."
"Why do I need this anyway?" Connor demanded, kicking his chair in the leg.
"We've been through this," Wesley said distractedly, picking up the reading comprehension test and beginning to read. "If you wish to function as a useful member of this society it is best you have an education."
"Right," came the sullen reply. "When do I get to fight demons again?"
"When your father's convinced you're ready." Wesley recited, still not looking up from the test.
"I've been killing demons since a was big enough to hold a knife, I was ready a long time ago."
Wesley froze in the motion of turning a page, and took a quick deep breath, but quickly recovered before giving Conner a sympathetic look. His words were not quite so sympathetic.
"Demon fighting is important, and I'm sure your father will be happy to help you with your fighting skills, but learning language, and, and, and, history, and mythology. It all has its place and it's best you learn it."
Connor looked down, "I don't think he'll want to teach me any more fighting skills after last time," he said quietly.
"What's that?" asked Wesley, who was back to reading the test.
"Nothing," Conner replied.
"Hmm. Well I suppose that's all for now. You haven't done too badly here. Spelling's not so good, but your comprehension is impressive, considering you've never attempted one of these before. I'll take it home with me. See what I can do about grading it." Connor looked depressed at the notion of being graded, and Wesley having noticed, quickly changed the topic, "This is all rather new to me too you know. This teacher student relationship. I feel that if we get off on the right foot, we can make this work. We each put in the work, and soon you'll be able to read and research as well as any . . ."
He trailed off, realizing that Connor still looked less than thrilled.
"I'm sure he'll come around soon," he said quietly.
"Right," said Connor, smiling suddenly for Wesley's benefit.
Wesley had come into Connor's life about a week ago. Connor liked the man, but found his manor confusing. Sometimes he behaved like a truly professional teacher, reminding him a little of Holtz during those long hours Connor had first learned how to read. Other times Connor would catch him staring at him with an odd look on his face. Pity?
It was almost as if just looking at Connor put Wesley in some kind of pain.
The only information Connor had been given about the man was that he was an expert on demons, and that he and his father were trying to resolve some past conflict that no one had volunteered much information on.
The two were civil with one another, but far from friendly. Wesley had however, for whatever reason, accepted the position of tutor.
There had been a long discussion between his father, Fred and Gunn about how they would go about giving Connor an education. Connor understood that other people his age went to a place called "high school", but his father had not wanted him to go there, for the same reason he refused to allow Connor to fight demons.
"He doesn't know this world. He acts on instinct. He doesn't know how to act, who to trust. I'm afraid he'll be hurt. I'm afraid innocent bystanders'll be hurt."
And so Wesley had been brought in.
It had been Fred's suggestion, and his father had not reacted well to it, simply walking out of the room after giving Fred a frighteningly withering glare. But decisions must have been made while Connor was not there to listen because two weeks later Wesley had arrived, and Connor's language lessons had begun.
"Well. I'll be going now. Don't forget to read the next chapter of your history text. I'll be here again tomorrow at ten." Wesley was saying, "tell your father when he wakes that . . that I'm working on finding her. Something will turn up soon."
"Alright."
"Alright. Goodbye."
"Bye,"
And Wesley was gone.
Right on schedule, thought Connor, looking at his watch. The sun would set in a few minutes and his father would be up soon. Wesley tended to avoid Angel as much as possible.
"Wesley gone already?"
Connor jumped. His father had entered the lobby undetected as usual. It always frightened Connor when he did that.
"Yeah. He's gone."
"Has he found anything yet?" Angel's face was deceptively blank. Connor knew how much finding Cordelia really meant to him. He remembered how happy he'd been after that phonecall five months ago. He'd thought he was going to a romantic rendezvous. That his life was finally coming together. The son, the girlfriend, the mission. Instead he'd found himself at the bottom of the ocean, trapped in a steel coffin.
Guilt washed over Connor as he replied "No. Nothing yet. He's trying though."
"Yeah."
Angel moved away towards the kitchen. Clearly he considered the short conversation to be over.
Connor drifted after him, feeling lost. It suddenly occurred to him that this was a very different vampire to the one he had first met five months ago. When Connor had first come to this world Angel had been frighteningly intense. His offers of a home and his constant advice, questions and praise had been confusing. Connor had assumed at the time that Angelus was using guile to seduce him into evil. Now he understood that Angel had been desperately trying to establish a relationship with the son who's childhood he'd missed. The realization had been devastating.
This Angel, the one pouring the blood in the hotel kitchen, was a quiet, distant melancholic creature. It made Connor feel abandoned.
When divers had gone down near Point Dume to search for a rich woman's emerald ring, the last thing they had expected to find was a dead body in a steel and glass coffin. Even more suprising was the way the body had disappeared shortly after the coffin had been cracked open.
Angel had stumbled into the Hyperion, bone thin, with bangs long enough to droop into his eyes, and sporting an inch of facial hair. Connor had not recognized him that day. He'd fainted without saying a word.
When he awoke three days later, he'd told Fred and Gunn that Justine had been the one to send him down into the depths. He'd protected Connor, keeping his name out of the story entirely.
He had asked to speak privately with the boy, who had been pretending to grieve for his lost father for three months.
The conversation that had followed had been a hard one. It had started with threats from Conner, but had ended with the realization that Holtz had staged the murder. Angel had forced Connor to remember details about Holtz's body. The puncture wounds without the marks of other teeth surrounding them, the fact that the blood had not actually been drained.
These were details Connor had not thought to look for at the time, but his experience with the victims of vampires since he'd come to live at the Hyperion told him that Angel was telling the truth.
Of course there was still the possibility that Angelus had used other than his teeth to kill Holtz. It would be a long time before Connor could truly trust the vamp. But Angel's logic, combined with the solemn promise to keep Connor's involvement it the boating incident a secret, had been enough for Connor to accept the concept of sharing a home with him.
Since then Angel had cut himself off from his son. He'd set down rules for him, which Connor had reluctantly followed, but emotionally, Connor was alone. The awkwardness of the situation became unbearable at times.
Angel looked up and found Connor staring at him.
"You want something to eat?" he asked. "I think Gunn left some pizza."
"I'm sorry," said Connor, ashamed to feel tears springing up in his eyes. At least they weren't falling down his face. His emotions were suddenly going crazy, pushing at him from all different directions.
In some ways he still hated the vampire that stood before him. He was still a demon, and a lifetimes worth of learning about the evil of demons could not be reversed in a matter of months.
But the old horror of the realization that Holtz had framed this vampire for his own murder, added to the months of loneliness and unresolved issues between himself and Angel suddenly combined to make Conner desperately reach out to the father who had missed his childhood.
Angel just stared, eyes vulnerable for a moment, before looking down at his feet and letting out a long sigh. Obviously he had caught the tone of the two simple words, and the impact was heavy.
Without looking up, he set his glass of blood aside, and moved slowly toward the boy. Connor tensed, watching nervously until Angel's gaze came back up again. The vampire's eyes were dry, but sad, and suddenly he was reaching out and wrapping his arms around his son.
Connor couldn't take it anymore and the tears started spilling over. He was reminded of a similar situation five months ago when he had been sobbing in Cordelia's arms.
Unlike Cordelia, Angel remained silent. No words of comfort. Just a sad, quiet presence.
"I'm so sorry," Connor sobbed into his shoulder.
TBC
This is my first fic. I'd love some reviews!
[email protected]
Chapter 2.
Galway 1753
Liam hadn't come home. Breakfast was an uncomfortable affair.
Katherine noticed her mother and Anna giving Father sideways glances. Liam's name would not be mentioned, but all thought was directed at the empty chair, empty plate, and Jim's tense bearing.
Katherine had hoped Liam would stay home last night, and not incur Father's wrath. She wished she could understand why he did what he did. Why he was so determined to rock the boat. She asked him sometimes.
"Ah, Katherine, you have to see! They stand in your way. They want to hold ya back so you live out the same boring lives that they do, but we're different you and I. We'll see the world together some day. Would ya like that?"
But Liam's dreams were not always Katherine's dreams, and she wished he would find a way to see the world and please their father. At present he was doing neither.
Anna looked nervous. Anything to do with Liam always made the serving girl nervous. Katherine had never understood why.
Jim reached for his mug, took a slow sip, then banged it on the table with an angry "That boy!"
Suddenly he got up and walked out of the room. The women and child, still at the table, could hear the sounds of Jim donning hat and cloak, then the sound of a door opening, then slamming shut.
"He'll find 'im," said Mother, placing a hand on Katherine's shoulder.
Unfortunately that was exactly what Katherine was afraid of.
L.A 2002
It was the first real conversation they'd had since Angel had returned to the hotel. He found himself enjoying it.
He wasn't entirely sure why this breakthrough had happened. The sudden apology had been unexpected to say the least after months of awkward silences, but he was taking full advantage of it, having the kind of heart to heart with the boy that he had only had previously with Lorne or Cordelia. Both of whom were sorely missed.
"Do you miss him" he asked.
"Miss who?"
"Holtz."
"That's a trick question." Connor stated suspiciously.
"No."
"Yes it is. If I don't miss him I'm a horrible person because he was my foster father and he was good to me. But if I do miss him, it means I'm loyal to the man who took your son and framed you for murder."
Angel thought for a moment.
"Maybe you're right. You don't have to answer it." He took a sip of his hot chocolate and looked into the fireplace.
"Do you miss her?"
"Who?"
"Cordelia."
Angel looked at his son for a long time. For a while he had suspected that Connor had something to do with Cordelia's mysterious disappearance. That it had been a part of the boy's revenge. But now he dismissed the idea as paranoia.
"Yes."
"She has demon in her."
"Well I've got demon in me."
"So it is still in you. The evil. It's in you. You don't deny that." It wasn't an accusation as it had been in the past. He was fishing for a clarification.
Angel began searching for an explanation that would make sense to Connor. He wanted to be honest, without scaring the boy away. This conversation was a turning point, and Angel was hoping desperately that he would not screw it up. Connor was watching him closely.
"It is still in me." he said finally, "but it doesn't control me."
Connor considered this for a moment, before nodding slightly.
"Because of the curse," he said.
"Right. Although I see it more as a gift than a curse these days. Being bitten in the first place could be considered a curse."
Connor looked up suddenly, as a thought occurred to him, "Was it my mother that turned you?"
"Yeah it was," Angel replied, "She thought she was doing me a favour,"
He felt very sad as he thought of Darla's last moments. Her love for Connor, and her certainty that had they both lived, she would no longer be able to love her son. He remembered her sacrifice, and her last words.
"She wanted me to tell you something."
Connor raised an eyebrow.
"Tell me something?"
"Mmm. Do you wanna hear it?"
Connor looked uncertain. Angel's senses picked up the racing heartbeat, and sight sweat.
"You don't have to,"
"No, I want to hear it," Connor said, putting on brave face.
"She said . . . She said that you were the only good thing we ever did together. She wanted you to know that."
Connor looked confused.
"But if she was evil . . .why, why would she want me to know that?" The tears were about to spill over again. Angel politely ignored them.
"She was pregnant with you. A human baby with a soul."
"So it was as if she was cursed?"
"Almost."
"Almost."
"She loved you. She tried to pretend she didn't, but she loved you."
"I don't know how to feel about that."
Angel laughed sadly, "Neither do I."
"I've always wondered if there was evil in me."
"There's no evil in you! If that's what Holtz told you . ."
"He didn't. He just told me that I should learn what evil there was in . . . my parents, so that I could fight it in myself."
Angel gripped Connor by the shoulders and forced him to meet his gaze, "There is no evil in you."
Connor smiled a little. "So what do we do now?" He looked at Angel hopefully. Angel knew what this was. Connor was finally, totally accepting Angel as his father. He didn't know how to express it though. He was looking to Angel for guidance.
"We put the past behind us." Connor nodded. "There are no debts between us. We've both made mistakes here. Trusted the wrong people. But now we move forward. And we do it together. Starting right now." He stood up and walked toward the stairs leading down to the basement.
"What . . . Where are you going?"
"Training session. You coming?"
Connor grinned.
TBC
Galway, 1753.