Part One
June 16, 2019
“Man, you should have seen it! Like the biggest damn cockroach I have ever seen.”
“What did you do, kill it with a giant shoe?”
“Naw. But it sure did crunch and splatter like a bug when I killed it!”
The assorted group shared a laugh at that.
“That’s nothing,” one of the young men spoke up, flopping on the lobby’s couch. “You should have seen what I fought last week! Eight feet tall, fluorescent green....”
“Aw, you’re making that up!”
“Am not!”
“Hey! What’s going on here?”
The teenagers went silent at the older black man’s appearance in the room.
“Well?” Gunn asked. “Don’t you all have somewhere to be?”
One of the kids, looking at his compatriots for reassurance, spoke up. “We heard the Slayers’ going to be here today,” he said.
Gunn looked over the group of them. Street kids, like he’d once been, and like him they’d found some purpose in demon fighting. “You want to meet her?” he asked.
“Well, yeah. If we’re going to be fighting with her....”
Gunn smiled. “Just don’t tear the place apart.”
A moment later, Wesley emerged from the office. He was unconsciously twirling his reading glasses in one hand. He came to stand next to Gunn. “She just called,” he said. “She’ll be here any minute.”
Gunn nodded.
“Where’s Connor?” Wesley asked.
“Right here.” The young man spoke up from where he’d been standing the entire time. He had stopped at the top of the stairs from the basement, uncertain as to what to do while the demon hunting kids were there. The kids didn’t what to make of him once they’d learned of his parentage, and Connor would just as soon avoid them in return.
Wesley looked started at his sudden appearance.
“Taking lessons in lurking?” Gunn teased.
Connor smiled, joining the two of them. “Maybe,” he retorted.
“And cryptic, too,” Wesley said, joining in the teasing. It was an old joke at this point.
Connor just smiled at his two extra father figures. “Where’s Dad?” he asked. He’d expected him to be here awaiting the Slayer’s arrival, even though the sunlight showed through the hotel’s windows.
“Upstairs,” Gunn said. “He’s watching the girls get the room ready. They should be down any moment.”
Connor looked towards the front doors, thoughtful. “What’s she like?” he asked.
He didn’t get an answer at first. “I don’t really know anymore,” Wesley admitted. “It has been a very long time since I saw her. Your father is mostly the one who arranged for her to come here.”
“Oh.”
“Oh!” Wesley said suddenly, unconsciously echoing him. “You got something in the mail. It’s in the office.”
“Thanks,” Connor replied and stepped back behind the counter. The atmosphere in the Hyperion today was uncomfortable to him. He didn’t remember there ever being this sort of air of nervous anticipation. He would just as soon have stayed in the basement all day, but they had a guest coming who was about to be living with them. He was supposed to be polite.
Connor ducked into the office, keeping one ear open the whole time. The office had never really changed much, and he didn’t have to look far for the mail. He flipped past the bills quickly, leaning against the desk. At last, he found an envelope with his name on it. He’d thought it might have been from one of his friends from school, but the address was typed and there was no return address. The postmark read “Los Angeles.” Connor turned over the official looking letter in his hand thoughtfully.
Renewed commotion in the lobby distracted him. He could hear several people running down the stairs. Putting it aside for now, Connor shoved the letter into his pocket and went back into the lobby.
Angel stood in the lobby, looking over the small gathering. “Is she here yet?” he asked Wesley urgently.
There was no missing Wesley’s smirk. “She’ll be here...”
The front doors opened.
“Any second,” Wesley finished.
The woman who walked through the front doors wasn’t exactly what Connor expected for a Slayer and just-released-ex-con. She was probably in the best physical condition of any near forty-year-old woman he had ever seen. Her hair was dark brown, shoulder length, with only a couple of strands of gray starting in the front. Her expression was at the same time no nonsense, friendly, and wary. She did not look comfortable in a brand new pair of slacks and plain white shirt.
“Hey, guys,” she said in greeting.
Angel was the first to reply. “Faith,” he said pleasantly. “You made it okay? I’m sorry I couldn’t come get you...”
She waved it off. “Wouldn’t want you to become a crispy critter,” she said.
He smiled slightly. “I’ll introduce everyone,” he said, drawing her further into the lobby. “You already know Cordelia and Wesley....”
Connor didn’t miss the cold nod that Cordelia gave her. He’d find out the story behind that later.
Seeing that was all the greeting she was going to get from Cordelia, she turned to Wesley. “Thanks for...you know, hiring me.”
Wesley didn’t quite smile. “You’re welcome.”
Faith did smile after that, clearly amused. “All that time I spent trying to get away from you, and now I’m thanking you for letting me work for you...” she said with a wry shake of her head.
The introductions continued. “This is Gunn, and Fred, whom I’ve told you about,” Angel said. “The kids playing in the weapons cabinet are Eli, Jason, and Carlos – they’re some of the local demon hunters looking for some help.” The kids were obviously pleased to be introduced. “The little one over there is Ainsley, Cordelia’s daughter. And this-“ Angel met his son’s gaze for a moment.
“Has got to be Connor,” Faith said with a grin. “Wow. I mean, when you guys told me about a family resemblance, you weren’t lying.” She offered her hand across the counter. “Hi. As already announced, I’m Faith.”
Connor took her hand a bit warily. “Connor,” he replied, then felt silly for doing so when he knew she already knew his name.
She just smirked. “You take after your dad,” she said. “And seeing as how I used to have a thing for him, that’s a compliment.”
“Faith!” Angel said, his tone slightly embarrassed.
Connor felt himself blushing and looked at his father helplessly. “Uh...I’m just going to...go upstairs for a bit.” He pulled his hand away and dashed up the stairs before anyone could protest.
He heard one last scrap of conversation before he was out of earshot. “He’s a bit shy sometimes,” he could hear his father excusing him.
Connor frowned. It wasn’t that he was shy, not really. He was...just very personal. He liked his space and his time to himself. Maybe it had something to do with growing up with essentially five parents keeping track of him. He valued his alone time. Right now, that gathering of people down stairs and that woman who knew them and just tried to act so familiar with him right away...it was too much. Knowing that no one would make a big deal about it right away, Connor withdrew to the private sanctuary of his room.
He flicked on the radio out of habit, then sat heavily in his desk chair. Something pinched his hip when he did that, making him stand up again and fumble into his pocket. He drew out the mysterious letter, now bent from his sitting while forgetting it was there. He frowned at it for a moment as if he could figure out what it was through the envelope. He sat again, the downstairs gathering temporarily forgotten.
He opened the letter none too neatly, and a couple of pieces of paper fell out onto his lap. Connor frowned again. The first one was obviously a photocopy of something, but he hadn’t the faintest clue what. Some sort of text that his father, Wesley or Fred might be interested in, but not him. The object in the image was damaged around the edges and was almost illegible...which didn’t really matter because he didn’t even recognize what language the text was in. A portion of the copy was highlighted and circled.
Connor’s attention turned to the second sheet of paper. A translation? There, a meaning started to emerge from the odd text. The archaic, poetic language puzzled him for a second, but not for long. Suddenly, Connor knew what he was holding, and just what – or who – it referred to.
Him.
At every word he read, Connor felt himself getting sicker with dread.
Angel was both confused and worried. He wasn’t at all upset that Connor had ducked out of Faith’s introduction to be by himself. He was used to Connor’s loner behavior by now, and could hardly fault him for it considering how often he exhibited it himself. But ever since then, Connor had been...unreachable. He had appeared for dinner only after considerable coaxing, and even though Angel had prepared his favorite meal Connor had eaten little. Mostly, he’d just pushed it around his plate with his fork. Angel almost dismissed it as a reaction to Faith eating dinner with them, but something in Connor’s attitude told him otherwise.
So, after showing Faith to her room and leaving her to get oriented to the place, Angel finally pulled Connor aside for a moment alone with him.
“What’s wrong?” he asked without preamble.
Connor did not even look at him at first.
His silence worried Angel even more. “You know you can talk to me...” he began.
Connor’s answering glare startled him. “That depends,” he bit out. “Are you going to keep lying to me?”
Angel looked at his son in complete shock. “Wh...what?”
The young man looked him strongly in the eye. “I thought I was always pretty accepting, you know? I mean, I’m the child of two vampires. I can live with that. I should have been impossible. Weird, yeah, but here I am.” His voice turned bitter. “Here I am...and I’m suddenly wondering why you didn’t kill me at birth.”
Angel felt like he’d been punched in the gut. “How could you say such a thing? You’re my son. I love you.”
“I thought I was normal!” Connor yelled back. This wasn’t at all like him. “I don’t want to destroy the world!”
Angel was suddenly angry, and not at Connor. “Who told you?”
Connor’s expression suddenly dropped. “It’s true then.”
“I didn’t mean that!” Angel said quickly. “Connor, who told you this?”
“What does it matter? Is it true or not? Did you know about this?”
“I knew,” Angel had to admit.
“And there it is,” Connor said in disgust.
“It’s not that simple!” Angel tried, but he knew Connor was beyond listening rationally. “These things...they’re not clear. You make your destiny, not them!”
“Oh really?” his son retorted. “Then why do you and Wesley bury yourselves in those old books all the time? Did you dismiss your destiny when you discovered it the same way you have mine? No! Because you get to actually hear good things about your future!”
Angel felt a wave of sympathy. “Connor...” he began, trying to touch the boy on the shoulder to comfort him.
“No!” Connor cried, backing out of arm’s distance. His expression was one of loathing...self-loathing. He met his father’s eyes for just a moment more. “You should have killed me when you could,” he declared, and rushed away before Angel could stop him.
The slamming door could be heard in the lobby.
On to Part Two