Title: Always Darkest Before The Dawn
Author: Mel (e-mail me at [email protected])
Disclaimer: The characters of 'Buffy: The Vampire Slayer' and 'Angel' are all
the property of Joss Whedon, the WB and Mutant Enemy, Inc and no profit has
been made by my utilizing them in this story. All the other characters belong
to the author of this story (i.e., me!).
Rating: PG-13 for language and angst.
Pairings: Angel/Cordelia
Summery: While hunting down Darla and Drusilla, Angel is given a glimpse
of the future and witnesses first hand the repercussions of his actions...
Spoilers: This story takes part in the
middle of the episode 'Reprise'.
Archiving: As long as you ask first, it
should be okay.
Author's Notes: Although Cordelia doesn't appear
much early on, this is very much a C/A fiction so don't let Cordelia's absence
put you off. Also, most of the fiction come from Angel's perspective since it
is largely his story.
Web Page: http://www.geocities.com/cosmic_quest/index.htm
_______________________________________________________________________
'Here's to the child and all he
has to teach us."
Ancient Proverbs
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
"I'm bored. Give me the stake and let's just dust him then be done with
him."
"Is that your solution to everything?"
"You know what your problem is? It's that you worry too much. It's not
good for someone our age to stress over every little thing; you need to relax
more like me"
"I only worry too much because you worry too little."
Angel groaned, more than ready to ream Cordelia and Wesley out for daring to
allow their childish bickering to disrupt his sleep. It was only when his
throbbing head cleared enough for him to realize that he was not in his bed and
it was not his associates arguing. The female voice was reproving and too
earnest to be his Seer's and the male voice carried an American accent and a
cool edge so lacking in that of Wesley's soft bumbling. Besides, he had fired
both them four weeks ago.
As his awareness increased, he became conscious of the persistent pain in
his left and ribs not to mention his poor head. From the padded hard surface
supporting him, Angel guessed he was lying on a couch with a woollen blanket
covering him.
What the hell had happened?
Forcing open his eyes, Angel blinked against the bright light of the room,
his eyes adjusting. The first thing he took in was the fact that the curtains
were thankfully shut thus blocking out the burning sun scorching outside. Then
he found himself being gravely regarded by two teenagers- a blond girl and a
dark-haired boy.
"Well, well, well, Sleeping Beauty awakens," murmured the boy,
toying with a stake and smirking at Angel's bewilderment.
"Wh...Where am I?" Angel asked, his voice hoarse.
"You're in Sunnydale, of course," replied the girl in mild
puzzlement, deftly snatching the stake from her friend and placing it out of
his reach.
Sunnydale...? What was going on?
The last thing he could recall clearly was Darla's rage when her attempts to
bed and desoul him had failed. He had then tracked Darla and Drusilla down to
an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of
He had been so close; so close to finally ridding the world of his Sire and
returning back to his life with Cordelia, Wesley and Gunn. Angel knew that in
his desperation to be reunited with Cordelia and rekindle the relationship that
they were beginning to establish before he fired her, he had become reckless
when it came to Darla. And now he wasn't sure what that carelessness had cost
him.
Judging from the boy's casually cool glare, the youngster was just itching
to grab at the stake and ram it through Angel's unbeating heart. The mocking
challenge burning in boy's near black eyes chilled Angel for it reminded him so
much of the emotions he associated with his alter ego Angelus. Strange
considering the boy couldn't have been much more than sixteen years old and
human at that. Oddly though, there was a hint of something supernatural in his
aura, almost vampiric despite his apparent humanity.
By comparison, the girl looked a typical all-American teenager, her corn
silk blond hair was pulled back from her twinkling sky blue eyes that exuded a
warmth so contrasting to her darker boyfriend. Her mannerisms and attitude
reminded him a little of a younger Buffy when she had first arrived in
Sunnydale, carefree and energetic.
Nonetheless, like Buffy, Angel had the distinct feeling that this girl was
not all as innocent as she appeared.
No, over two hundred years of moving in the circles of the demonic and undead,
Angel could sense that these were not normal teenage children and something was
most definitely not quite right in Sunnydale. That wasn't unusual in itself
but, even for the Hellmouth, there was something very wrong going on here...
Attempting to sit up on the couch, Angel found that while he was free to
move, his hands and legs were secured with rope.
The boy smirked in amusement at the vampire's struggles. "You didn't
think we were just going to let you roam freely, did you? I don't think so. Now,
care to tell us what you're doing in these parts?"
"I...I don't know," Angel answered honestly.
"Uh-uh, that's a likely story."
"I think he might be telling the truth," the girl said in Angel's
defence.
"Oh, Ashleigh, don't be so gullible. Just 'cause our parents knew him
doesn't mean he's Mr Joe Regular. I say we stake him."
The girl- Ashleigh- just shook her head in resignation. "Brendan, if
you had your way, you'd kill anything that stood in your path."
"Yeah," admitted the boy, apparently named Brendan. He then
shrugged helplessly. "So?"
This was an extreme case of 'good cop, bad cop’ with Ashleigh in role
of protecting Angel from her friend, Brendan playing an excellent version of
'bad cop'. It was evident these kids were certainly aware of vampires and the
dark side that existed in their midst. And given that they both seemed to know
him then they were probably young friends of the Scooby Gang or, given their
age, more likely friends of Dawn Summers.
If so, then help was at hand.
His thoughts, much to his relief, were confirmed when Ashleigh said,
"Let's just wait for Giles to get here and we'll see."
Brendan glowered at her. "Come on, Ash, Giles has more important things
to worry about just now than *him*." There was a deep hatred in the
youngster's undertone when he referred to Angel; it was almost as if the boy
knew exactly who he was. "And I think *I*
have the right more than anyone to decide his fate."
Angel tried to strain to his feet as the boy reached for the stake,
wondering what Brendan meant by having the prerogative to kill him. Threatened,
he struggled to resist his demon's demands for self-protection but he couldn't
halt the growl from his throat.
"Go ahead," Brendan challenged, not in the least intimidated,
"vamp out. It's just more of an invitation for me and my friend, Mr
Stake."
Before the teenager could make his move, he was stopped by the girl's strong
grip. "Brendan Chase, don't you dare!"
The name or, more specifically, the boy's surname, brought Angel's exertions
to a halt. How could he even think of harming a boy who could be Cordelia's
family? She never mentioned having a younger brother but one never knew.
"Chase? Are you related to Cordelia Chase?"
The boy just snorted. "I should damn well hope so...I'm her son."
End of Chapter One
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Chapter Two
"What?!"
Son?! The damned kid was in his mid teens, around fifteen or sixteen years
old; Cordelia was not even twenty yet. To even suggest Brendan was her child
was as ridiculous as Angelus volunteering to join the priesthood. Someone had
obviously been feeding this poor deluded boy a pack of lies, either that or
Brendan 'Chase' was experimenting drugs as his extracurricular activity.
"Don't think by denying everything, it somehow absolves you,"
Brendan glared, succeeding in wavering Angel's refutation.
But it was Ashleigh's open and honest gaze that jolted the vampire.
"Why are you acting so weird? You know more than anyone that he's Cordy's
son," she said, apparently puzzled by his incredulous reaction. "I
mean, I know it's been a few years since you visited our dear old Sunnyhell but
that isn't that long."
"Okay," Angel said, holding his hands up, "who are you kids?
What is going on here?" He then scowled suspiciously, a thought coming to
him. "If Darla put you up to this, there's going to be some blood shed
tonight."
The girl exchanged a troubled glance with the boy. "My name is Ashleigh
Eleanor Summers, I'm the daughter of Buffy Summers. You know that, Angel, you
were the one who brought me to Sunnydale in the first place."
"Brought you to Buffy?" he repeated, scepticism dripping heavily
in his tone.
Now this was becoming sheer ludicrous. So, this girl was Buffy's daughter?
And when did Buffy find the time to have this child- in between nursery and
kindergarten? And what was all this talk about bringing Buffy's own daughter to
her? One would have thought if this girl was making up a story then she could
at least make the details plausible.
Angel wasn't sure what his sire hope to achieve with this game but obviously
those years of being dust in the wind had whittle down Darla's intelligence.
Did she honestly think he would fall for this charade? Still, he had to hand it
to them, these kids had the acting skills Cordy would kill for. If he didn't
know any better, he would actually think they believed their little web of
lies. Darla must have gone all out for this.
"Yes," Ashleigh replied, adamant despite his scorn and
dubiousness, "when I was a baby, about a year-and-a-half. You found me on
the streets, my biological parents were killed after being attacked by demons.
You checked but there were no other relatives for me to go to."
"Say this is all true, why would I bring you to Buffy? Why not the
police?"
"Because I'm the Slayer, the
"Lorne?" Angel repeated in askance.
"Yeah, y'know, that green anagogic demon friend of yours, he's also
kinda Bren's uncle."
This was all craziness, yet for some reason, Angel found himself starting to
believe these kids and their ridiculous story. Their sincerity, even that of
the boy whose hatred towards Angel was more than discernible, was tangible to
the vampire who had made a profession out of reading people's characters.
Besides, how else could the girl know of his connection to the MC Demon to the
extent that she even seemed to know his name, though the part of him being the
boy's uncle was a puzzle.
A newspaper lay strewn nearby caught Angel's eye and he manoeuvred himself
so he could read it at a better angle. It was a copy of 'The Sunnydale Post',
the headline title embellished with the words 'Curse Returns? Another High
School Student Dead'. Beneath the main headline told the story of a
seventeen-year-old Sunnydale High student who was found ripped to pieces in the
school gym. The last Angel had heard, there was no
Still, this news was not what had captured his attention. It was something
far more chilling. The fact that the newspaper was dated in bold print '
Could these children- not much younger than the Scoobies themselves- truly
be the offspring of Cordelia Chase and Buffy Summers? Ashleigh, evidently being
an adopted child, bore no real resemblance to his ex-girlfriend. But regarding
Brendan in hindsight, with his wavy dark hair and bronzed complexion, he did
share many of Cordy’s attributes.
And now that Angel took the time to study him, it was so clear that the
boy's opal eyes, though much darker and colder than the tender hazel of woman
he had come to love, possessed the same perceptive quality of his Seer. He
could easily have pass for her younger brother...or her son.
If the newspaper could be believed then both Cordelia and Buffy would be
around thirty-seven years old now, grown up and old enough to be the mothers to
an adolescent son and daughter respectively. Hell, they were probably both
happily married and settled down.
Angel had to admit he felt a intense surge of jealousy at that thought; not
because of his previous relationship with Buffy, no, he had burned that bridge
when he turned his back on the Slayer to stand by Faith. No, he was brimming
with envy and rage that another man had dared to encroach his bond with
Cordelia.
For the past eight months after Cordelia's vision induced coma at the hands
of Vocah, Angel had been harbouring feelings for his Seer that he had one day
hoped to act upon. Now finding out that Cordelia had a child and had no doubt
coped quite well without him for sixteen years shot his own emotions for her to
pieces.
Of course, Angel knew this could all be some elaborate ruse created by Darla
to mess with his head or as an attempt to bring back her beloved Angelus but he
sensed no such deception from the teenagers. In fact, Ashleigh seemed to be
concerned as to why he was at a loss.
"So, what's your excuse for 'forgetting' about everything?"
Brendan asked, gruffly.
"I don't know..." Angel replied honestly.
He didn't feel comfortable telling these kids, not matter what their
parentage was, that he wasn't sure he belonged in this time. Angel was
anti-social, he admitted that, and found it hard to trust those he didn't know,
not to mention Brendan had not given the vampire much reason to bequeath his
trust willingly. No, he would wait to talk to Giles, Cordelia or Buffy. Anyway,
what could a pair of juveniles possibly do to help him? Not even Buffy and
Cordelia had ever seemed that young.
"Gee, that's the story of your life, isn't it?"
Ashleigh rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Bren..."
"I'm just making an observation, Ash, no need to get excited."
"So, where did you find me?" Angel asked. "I didn't just drop
out of the sky, did I?"
"No," answered Ashleigh, "we found you by the high school.
You were lucky it was before dawn or you would be toast."
Brendan muttered something that sounded vaguely like a sarcastic,
"Yeah, real lucky."
Angel's main concern now was to find out exactly how the hell he ended up
sixteen years into the future. Magick had obviously played a part, but by who's
hand? Yet, that enigma was secondary for the moment as he tried to discern the
exact reason why Cordelia's son was behaving so hostile towards him.
Of course, it was a known fact that his Seer could hold a grudge when she
wanted to, nonetheless, surely she hadn't spent the past decade-and-a-half
raising her son (or even children) to hate him. No, there had to be something
deeper than the 'simple' anger no doubt bubbling in Cordelia after he fired
her, Wesley and Gunn.
Though that did bother Angel for he hoped that his future self wasn't so
stupid as to stay away from Cordelia and the others for too long. He had always
planned, once he killed Darla, to return to his rightful place at Angel
Investigations and by his Seer's side. Angel didn't want to be cut from her
life indefinitely, no matter how it would hurt having to watch Cordelia going
on to marry and bear a child to another man.
Just then, the door opened and Angel was surprised to find himself facing an
older version of Rupert Giles. The Watcher had aged gracefully, the only sign
that sixteen years had passed was the fact his hair had now completely greyed
and some added wrinkles.
"So, children, what was so important that I..." His voice trailed
off as Giles set eyes on Angel. "Good Lord...Angel?"
"Look what we found," Brendan said, breaking the momentary
silence. "Ash said we couldn't slay him but I was hoping maybe you would
favour Ole Pointy."
"Hello, Giles," Angel said, slightly sheepishly.
Giles scowled at the vampire then focused his gaze on the teenagers.
"Children, why don't you get some rest? No doubt it will be a hectic night
tonight and you'll need it."
Angel noted the Watcher regard the two adolescents like an uncle would look
to their beloved niece and nephew. In response, Brendan's voice mellowed in the
Giles's presence and for the first time Angel saw the boy for what he really
was; just a boy and not the callous, wrathful young warrior he effectively
portrayed.
"Why must you insist on calling us 'children'?" Brendan objected,
sounding so much like an indignant Cordelia that Angel reeled in familiarity.
"Ash is sixteen and I'm gonna be sixteen soon too-"
"Not for another eight months, you're not," Giles interrupted
Brendan carried on as if the Watcher had not spoken. "And we've both
been slaying demons in our after school hours for years now. We don't mind
helping you out some more here."
"Yeah," Ashleigh agreed, "this sounds much more interesting
than getting some boring sleep."
"You'll find that when one reaches my age, Brendan, fifteen years old
is barely a blink of an eye. And if you both get some sleep now then you'll
have plenty of time to finish your English assignment that I know you both have
due."
"It's so anathema being treated like one of those ignorant air heads in
our class."
"Is it now?" From Giles's amusement, Angel guessed that was the
kind of word the boy had been picked up from the older man or Wesley. "Now
off you toddle home, bed then homework are awaiting."
"Aww, Uncle Giles," came the simultaneous whines, one last attempt
to wheedle the Watcher's mood to their advantage.
"Y'know, I was thinking that I don't really need to listen to you
now," Brendan said smugly, "I mean, Ash is the Slayer and you're *her*
Watcher, not mine."
Giles glared at the boy. "Brendan..."
"Okay, okay, no need to stress those old heart muscles."
"Now run along," Giles said firmly, making it more than clear to
the teenagers and Angel that whatever he wanted to discuss with the vampire was
not for youngsters' ears. "Ashleigh, your mother is waiting for you and I
did promise her I would send you both home for breakfast. I'll call you
soon."
"Okay," the girl replied grudgingly. She put her hand on Brendan's
forearm gently to attract the boy's attention away from Angel. "Come on,
Bren, we *really* should go, you know how Mom can get when we're late.
You'd think she was the perfect little Slayer when she was our age. Like Uncle
Xander hasn't told us all the stories."
At the back of Angel's mind, he realized that when Ashleigh talked about her
mother she was really meaning Buffy. It was a sobering thought once again
thinking of Buffy and Cordelia as mothers to kids a mere couple of years
younger than he remembered the Scooby Gang to be. Angel did wonder why Giles
only referred to Buffy when sending the pair home when he doubted that Cordelia
would have been pleased to hear about her son wandering around at all hours,
especially given how over-protective she could be of him, Wes and Gunn.
Brendan gave Angel one last glower, a cold reminder that his joviality did
not extend to the vampire, then made a more to follow Ashleigh out of the door.
Before the pair could leave, Angel did have one last question of the young boy
who was very possibly Cordelia's son, one question that had been burning in his
mind since he was first aware of teenager's existence.
"Brendan?" he called, ignoring Giles's sudden frown when he spoke
the boy's name. Both teenagers turned, Brendan's dark eyes slit back in dubious
askance. "I was wondering, who…” He sighed. “...Who is
your father?"
His bets were either on Wesley, for he had always known the ex-Watcher
shared a brief history with Cordelia in her high school days, or on some
wealthy businessman. Whoever he was, Angel hoped this man was taking good care
of his precious Seer and her offspring or he would awaken the wrath of one very
pissed off ensouled vampire.
However, to his surprise, Brendan just shook his head in disgust at Angel's
innocent question. "Who the hell do you think my father is, Angel,"
sneered the teenager, confirming he did know Angel's identity, "...or
should I say, *Daddy*?"
End of Chapter Two
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Chapter Three
If Giles didn't know it wasn't possible for a vampire to have heart failure,
he would have assumed Angel was having an out-and-out heart attack right before
his very eyes. As it was, Giles knew that Angel's paler-than-normal pallor,
wide eyes and the fact his jaw was practically scrapping the floor just meant
the vampire was in a state of shock.
And who could blame him? It was not every day that a two century old,
immortal, apparently infertile bloodsucker discovered they were a father to a
fifteen-year-old boy, and Brendan certainly hadn't made things easy.
It wasn't just the admission that no doubt shocked Angel, it was the
sarcastic way in which Brendan spat out the word 'Daddy'; never before had the
word sounded so...vile. Not that it surprise Giles for he had known Brendan
Chase since the boy was born and he also knew the youngster carried within him
a rage as dark as the darkest night.
It just brought home the reminder that while Brendan was every bit his
mother's son when it came to his physical appearance, there was no denying that
Angel was the boy's father. Not only did Brendan inherit his father's tendency
to brood but where Angel was, Angelus hid below the surface. Brendan just
conducted himself with a greater self-restraint than Angelus ever could.
Yet it wasn't always like this for Brendan...No, Giles could still remember
with a striking poignant clarity the sweet and tender little boy of long ago
who was devoted to his mother and idolized his godfather Wesley and his Uncle
Charles. But where a young boy could light up the room with a smile, a teenager
struck out against his injustices.
"I...I can't be...I can't even have children or...or even have..."
Under any other circumstances, it would have been amusing witnessing the
cool and collected Angel stuttering like a nervous schoolboy so reminiscent of
a younger, less confident Xander Harris.
"I wish I could say it was good to see you again, Angel, but I was
never one for blatant lying."
Angel fixed Giles with a firm glare. "It's not true; I can't be that
boy's father." But even as he spoke, the Watcher could hear the
uncertainty.
"Yes," countered Giles, "yes, it is true. Brendan Francis
Chase is the only child of Cordelia Chase and Angel the Souled Vampire. I'm not
certain about the specifics but I believe he was conceived not long after your
soul was anchored...Only you're not Angel, are you? At least, not 'our'
Angel."
Angel jerked up. "How did you know?"
Giles smiled grimly. "Because the Angel I know died three years
ago." The statement certainly achieved Angel's full attention. "So,
that begs the question, where did you come from?"
"This might sound crazy."
"This is the Hellmouth; I've found that crazy is the name of the
game."
"I don't remember those children," Angel said, hesitantly, "I
don't remember bringing the girl to Buffy and I sure as hell don't remember
fathering a child. I think this is my future, Giles, and," he took an
unnecessary breath, "I think I've travelled forward sixteen years into my
future."
Resisting the urge to laugh out loud at the insane possibility, Giles forced
himself to remember that one thing he had learned from both his Watcher
training and his life on the Hellmouth was anything was possible. Even a
time-travelling vampire. And he had no doubt at all that the man sitting before
him was Angel. His reaction to Brendan was too emotional for it to be anyone
else.
So, instead of disclaiming Angel's statement, he asked, "How?"
"Darla maybe, I was fighting her and Dru when this- whatever *this* is-
all happened."
"Darla?"
"I take you know she's back."
"*Was* back, she was Brendan's first conquest at the tender age
of twelve."
"A twelve-year-old human boy staked Darla?!"
"Yes, well, your son has Cordelia's temper and stubbornness coupled
your vampiric strength and a pinch of Angelus' vindictiveness. Not a very good
combination."
Giles could still remember the ruckus it caused when he and Buffy found out
Brendan and Ashleigh, aged twelve and thirteen respectively, had buggered off
by themselves in search of Darla. Brendan was never known for his sense of
self-preservation and Ashleigh's Slayer strength was still so new to her then.
It still amazed him to this day how the pair managed to take out one of the Scourge
of
"What did Cordelia do when she found out?" Angel asked. "I'll
bet she wasn't too pleased at finding out her son had been anywhere near
Darla."
A wave of sadness swept over Giles. "Cordelia doesn't know, she never
will."
"They blackmailed you to keep it quiet," Angel said, smiling
faintly. "That's the sort of thing Cordy would do so I guess the boy is
very much like her."
*
"No...Angel, Cordelia doesn't know because she died nine years ago.
Wesley and the young man, Charles Gunn, also lost their lives with her."
It was ironic, really. Ashleigh Summers, the Chosen One whose biological
parents she never knew and her adoptive parents certainly not conventional by
any means, was a well adjusted teenager and who experienced the easiest
transition to uptake her Slayer duties than had ever been recorded.
Then there was Brendan, a boy who despite also not having the most average
of parents, had the chance to lead a normal life. That's not to say he didn't
have a part in the prophecy, he was after all born with the mark of the Powers
That Be and certain gifts a legacy of his parentage, but his early years were a
world away from the turmoil of the Hellmouth. And maybe had Cordelia lived, had
Angel been a father to his son, things might have been different to the
teenager now so hell-bent on vengeance.
*****************************
Angel felt himself collapse into the coach, shaking his head in denial. This
was too much for even him. To find out in the space of an hour that not only
was he somehow sixteen years into the future and Cordelia had a son but he was
the boy's father and now his friends...his true family were dead, had died nine
years ago. Gone without knowing the depths of his devotion and love for each of
them.
It couldn't be true. Cordelia was barely a child herself, and her boundless
energy and spirits as immortal as he was.
Only she wasn't a child any longer; twenty-seven years old at the time of
her death and though young for a human, she no longer was the girl he knew. She
had grown up without him and moved on, taking their son with her. Brendan
Francis Chase; a fifteen-year-old boy who was half his. His middle name
'Francis' had to be Cordelia's way of paying some homage to Doyle and it
saddened Angel that his son was more a part Doyle than him.
Yet one thing Angel could not do was deny his part in the boy's parentage.
While he had always thought it impossible for a vampire to have produce
children, demonology was hardly a conventional science. And then there was his
relationship with Cordelia in the months before he fired her and the others.
They had become so close, very close, and who knew what would happen as a
result of his soul being anchored?
However, whatever *did* happen still resulted in history repeating
itself. Given Brendan's hostility and the way Giles seemed to behave like he
was an absent father, Angel must have left Cordelia and the others again.
Another act of sheer stupidity.
Much like many humans, it was also every vampire's driven objective to
procreate; that was why they sired others. Being ensouled only enhanced Angel's
need for family. He had a family in Cordelia, Wesley and Gunn, and apparently
he also managed to father a child naturally...and he had wasted everything. His
friends were dead and his virtually orphaned son loathed him.
"How did they...?" Angel trailed off, unable to complete his
question.
Giles understood, pity running deep in the Watcher's eyes. "Perhaps I
should start from the beginning."
"That would be good," Angel said thickly.
Moving forward, hesitating only briefly, Giles untied Angel's hands then
went to a nearby cupboard where he retrieved a thick photo album. Sitting
beside the vampire, he opened the first page which depicted a toddler Brendan
seated happily between a smiling Cordelia and Wesley. To an outsider, a person
could easily think it a portrait of a young mother and father with their child.
Only Cordelia was *his* as simply as Brendan was *his*.
"They look so happy." Angel smoothed a hand over the picture,
lingering over Cordelia's face.
"Yes, yes, they were. Wesley and their other friend, Gunn, played
a large role in Brendan's early years. Wesley was the godfather, and he and
Brendan were very close." It was clear that he meant Wesley was a
surrogate father to Angel's son only Giles was too polite to say speak this out
loud. "It wasn't easy for Cordelia to have a child like Brendan. He had a
vampire's strength almost from birth and has always been able to sense demonic
entities around him. Plus, from her role as Seer, he has inherited a psychic
link to the Powers That Be and had some psi abilities. Not an easy child to
raise for any parent let alone a twenty-two-year-old girl."
"She did well with him though. Brendan seems like a great kid other
than the fact he loathes
"Brendan is a boy with much anger. Although Cordelia tried to keep her
own opinion of you away from her son, he's always been very perceptive from a
young age."
"And what was Cordelia's opinion of me? She must have hated me; I left
her and if that wasn't enough, I placed the added burden of pregnancy on
her."
"If you think that then you really didn't know Cordelia as well as you
thought you did," Giles responded, his tone gentle. "Yes, she was
angry but she always loved you, and Brendan was never a burden. Not only was he
her child but I think a small part of the reason she so doted on him was that
he was a part of you."
Though he was grateful to hear that from Giles of all people, to carry
the knowledge that Cordelia once loved him was heart wrenching. It was too late
to act upon those emotions now- nine years too late. She was gone now, and he
was left to deal the repercussions of her legacy. More than anything, Angel
found himself wishing he could take back the last sixteen years. To be able to
return home, beg Cordelia and Wesley to allow him back into their lives and
wipe out this whole bleak mess.
To re-write this hellish excuse for a future so that his family could live.
"What happened?" Angel asked painfully. "I need to know,
Giles. I must have had my soul anchored in order to have a child. What happened
after the whole Darla situation?"
"Which do you want to know about- the first or the second
'situation'?" At Angel's blank expression, the Watcher elaborated.
"After spending a number of weeks away pursuing your own agenda in regards
to Darla, you did return to Cordelia after leaving the first time. I'm not sure
about the exact details- Cordelia and the others always maintained an inner
circle in many instances- but you did spend five happy months together where I
assume you and Cordelia become closer." Giles watched him speculatively.
"I see you're not surprised by this."
Angel thought for a moment of denying it, he was always aware of Giles's
disapproval when it came to the vampire meddling in the Scoobies' lives and the
Watcher did consider Cordelia one of 'his' children regardless of her location.
Nevertheless, it didn't matter anymore; the Scooby Gang weren't children now
and Cordelia was long dead.
"No," Angel admitted, "all that surprised me is that I had
the courage to act upon my feelings and that I was stupid enough to destroy
whatever we had."
The Watcher gazed at the vampire with a look akin to pity before continuing
with the story of how Angel came to ruin the very family he had yearned for all
his existence. "Apparently, things began to change after the Powers
rewarded you with your soul when you prevented some very destructive events
from occurring. Darla returned to LA seeking redemption."
Darla again. Why did she have to come back? Why couldn't she just die? Angel
only had to think of his sire and he was cursing her very existence. She was
the bane of his unlife and had he not learned that Brendan had already staked
her, he would have hunted her down himself that very minute.
"Of course, after seeing the progress Spike had made-"
"Spike?" Angel repeated, perplexed. What did his obstinate
grandchilde have to do with this?
"You didn't know." It wasn't a question; the tone in Giles's voice
instantly putting Angel on edge. "I thought one of the children would have
mentioned it. Spike and Buffy have been together for about sixteen years now,
he is in many ways Ashleigh's father."
Angel felt his eyes on the brink of popping out. "Spike and Buffy?
Spike and Buffy?! Last time I checked they hated each other."
"I'll admit I was stunned at the time, but he's changed. He's a good
father and husband, I know he would die to protect Buffy, Dawn and Ashleigh.
Besides, last time you checked, you were still a eunuch."
"Touché," the vampire conceded, adding with an insulted moan,
"and I was never a eunuch."
Once upon a time, he would have been brimming over with a seething rage that
she could have chosen Spike of all people over him but things had
changed...Just as Buffy's heart now belonged to Spike, his belonged to another
girl whose love and faith in him was something that he was responsible for
destroying himself.
Besides, Angel was happy that Buffy had found happiness, and he knew that
Spike would always look after her. His grandchilde was many things but his
unparalleled passion to love and protect his own always made Angel wonder if
the younger vampire really was the 'Big Bad' he portrayed himself to be.
Ignoring his last comment, Giles turned the page to a photograph of the AI
office with Cordelia and Wesley leaning in front of a desk and Gunn juggling a
laughing Brendan, aged around five, standing by the amused couple.
"As I was saying, Darla came for aid in seeking her own redemption and
you decided to help, despite objections. Of course, it was all a charade
and when Darla fed off two young families under your protection, you left LA to
hunt her down unaware Cordelia was pregnant with your child. You did find out
about the boy when Brendan was a few months old but you did right to keep away
when Cordelia threatened to stake you if you ever contacted her or your son
again."
Angel had no words to describe his own sheer dim-witted behaviour. To have
left Cordelia once was bad enough, but for him to do so again...well, it was
little wonder why Cordelia kept his son from him. She should have staked him
then and there.
"Then some years later, when Brendan was not even seven years old, the
Angel Investigations team- without the Angel- become embroiled in a involving a
particularly vicious group of vampires."
Giles's eyes darkened as he reminisced. Angel braced himself for what was
coming next, he knew the result of the story but not the means.
"The night they attacked, Cordelia and the others stood no chance, they
were prepared but there were simply too many vampires. I think Gunn and many of
his young gang were the first to fall. Cordelia and Wesley sent Brendan through
the sewers to safety..." The Watcher, who in his time had seen many deaths
and in fact had a hand in ending a number of lives, seemed to have trouble
composing himself. "...We arrived in the early hours of the morning after
receiving a call from one hysterical little boy. There was barely enough of
Wesley to bury. Cordelia hung on for two days but her injuries were just too
severe. We laid them to rest together in
For the first time in his existence, Angel was rendered speechless. He knew
that Cordelia was dead, Brendan was so frank in informing him of her death and
proclaiming Angel's guilt but still to actually have it verified by a man he
knew was not only disconcerting but wrenching.
It was sickening to hear of how the women he loved and his best friends had
been stuck down so brutally, so senselessly. Cordelia was too innocent to have
died in such a manner, more than anything she deserved the chance watch her son
grow up, see her grandchildren. What was the hardest for Angel to face was the
simple fact was that their slaughters might have been prevented had he been
there far them.
When he had dumped them for a *second* time to find Darla, he had in
essence sentenced his friends to death and his son to a lifetime of dark rage.
His future self (or was it past self? He hated time-travel already) was so
foolish to believe in Darla wishing to seek redemption. Some evil was just too
black to be purified.
"This was all my fault," he uttered when he finally found his
voice.
Giles didn't argue. "After the massacre, Buffy and Spike
fostered Brendan. Buffy and Cordelia had become very close over the years- both
were so young and raising difficult children, they had much in common. Buffy
and Spike tried their hardest, raising Brendan alongside Ashleigh, but the
damage was done. He's a boy driven by vengeance, not even a Slayer has seen as
many vampire kills as Brendan Chase has." He sighed heavily, the weary
sigh of a man who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. "I'll
be amazed if he lives to see twenty."
Angel remained silent. What could a father say when they heard their son was
practically suicidal?
"Does he ever ask for me?" Angel finally worked up the nerve to
ask.
"Yes," Giles said. Before Angel could feel some measure of joy at
that, the ageing Watcher finished, "I think he has a special stake for the
occasion. We never told him of your death three years ago, we ourselves don't
know much. After Brendan's rejection of you not long after his mother's death,
we told you to keep away and you did."
"He blames me, doesn't he?"
"It's easy to forget sometimes but Brendan *is* only a child; he
lost his whole family at the age of six because of a business his absent father
set up. Of course, he blames you." Giles took his glasses off, cleaning
them with a handkerchief. "However, I think if Cordelia hadn't died so
prematurely and in such horrific circumstances then it could have been
different for you both. Brendan might have come to have a father/son
relationship with you."
It was Giles's way of trying to absolve Angel of some of the guilt. It
didn't work but the vampire took some relief in it. Perhaps, he still had a
minute chance in sharing some form of relationship with his son.
"Spike?" Angel said, shaking his head, knowing that the emotions
were starting to wear on the Watcher, who was no longer as young as he
remembered. "I still can't believe him and Buffy are together. And that he
of all people is the foster father to *my* son."
"Yes, well, I suppose not even he could resist a small six-year-old boy
with eyes deader than his could ever be."
End of Chapter Three
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Chapter Four
Something was going down tonight, the sleepy calm of the day had now been replaced
by bustling activity as the twilight hours approached. And yet, Angel found
himself rooted to his usual spot on the sofa as he watched the action in awe.
It was only now that he found himself with indisputable proof that he was
indeed stuck in some future time, how as he watched the older versions of his
past friends prepare for battle.
He felt like a child whose friends had all grown up around him, leaving him
behind. And there was some truth in that imagery.
The Scooby Gang had seen many shifts over the years. The most prominent
being the absence of
And everyone else had all grown up and left childhood far behind. Dawn
Summers, no longer a little girl, was now living in
The Scoobies' babies were now considered of age to join in the battle
against darkness...Angel had never felt older.
What was most shocking to the vampire was finding himself face-to-face with
an older *Spike*. Older in a very much physical sense; his hair now a
wavy sandy brown, long gone was the peroxide blond, and his eyes were a softer
blue much like William’s, the boy he had allowed Dru to turn, had once
been. He still carried himself with athletic grace but it was obvious to
Angel's trained eye that he lacked the agility of a vampire. In fact, Spike was
now looking very much like a typical forty-something-year-old human male. Not a
bad achievement for a supposedly immortal, psychotic vampire.
Spike, of course, took great glee in meeting his grandsire, a stark
comparison to the discomfort of the others.. "Long time no see,
Peaches," grinned the vampire.
"Since when did you help out?" Angel spat back, keeping his voice
low so as not to allow an already-volatile Brendan hear him insult his foster
father.
"Well, I've got two Slayers on my back now," replied Spike,
"and I'm not the Big Bad you remember. A sacrifice to save the world again
then a resurrection and I got me a heartbeat."
Angel's brow furrowed deeply. Why had the Powers seen fit to resurrect Spike
then allow him to play a part in raising a young Slayer child?
"How?" He hated that he couldn't keep the curiosity and burning
envy from his voice
To his surprise, Spike's features softened in sympathy. "We're not
sure, our Seer and her boy went before the Oracles to ask, said this was meant
to be."
"Oh, Spi-ike?" Buffy called from the weapons cabinet. "You're
meant to be helping."
"Coming, Luv, just catching up on old acquaintances."
Angel watched as Spike rejoined his wife, the younger vampire-cum-human
instantly slipping back into the role of the average, loving family guy. His
dark eyes narrowed as he mulled over Spike's words.
Spike had Shanshu-ed?! While he buggered around searching for Darla, had
Spike Shanshu-ed in his place? Though it burned to know his soulless
grandchilde had not only been blessed with the gift of humanity that Angel had
sought since he was first cursed with a soul, what was most agonizing was that
Cordelia and their son had supported Spike by going to the Oracles.
Cordelia was *his* Seer, not Spike's. How dare the belligerent urchin
try to take her from him.
His jealousy was further incited as Angel watched Spike joke around with *his*
son, Brendan more at ease with his father's enemy than with his own father. How
could things have gone so wrong? That his own child hated him but seemingly hero-worshipped
Spike of all people.
"Will understands him."
Angel turned to the person who volunteered those soft words and found Buffy
regarding him rather solemnly. Out of all the Scooby Gang, save Spike, it had
to be Buffy who had changed the most in the past sixteen years. Sure, Xander
had out-grown his boyish features, gaining twenty pounds of muscle and now
sporting a beard, yet nonetheless it was his ex-girlfriend who had grown the
most emotionally.
Buffy had shed her immaturity, and there was no hint of that selfish 'I'm
the Slayer, you must bow to me' attitude so reminiscent of her younger days.
Motherhood had no doubt played a large part in her transformation from the
occasionally lofty and sullen teenage brat to a wonderful, well rounded woman
who reminded Angel of the late Joyce Summers in so many ways.
Looking at Buffy with her daughter only served to remind Angel of what
Cordelia had been robbed of with her son.
"Will?"
Buffy shrugged. "It's a long story, let's just say there is a lot more
of William in Spike than before."
A part of Angel wondered the exact the details of Spike's Shanshu but a
larger part was more concerned with his son. "Spike, or Will or whatever
you want to call him, understands my own kid better than I do?!" Angel
repeated, incredulously. "He's *my* son, Buffy, mine and
Cordy's."
It still amazed Angel how easily he accepted Brendan. Never once since
finding out the boy's parentage had he ever doubted he was the child's father.
Maybe it was simply because Cordelia was the mother, or perhaps it was
instinctual, but already Angel felt obligated, felt protective towards young
Brendan Chase.
"But he doesn't know you," Buffy countered. "And with Wesley
gone, Brendan turned to Spike."
"God, what has this come to? My boy hates me, my friends...my family is
dead."
"Brendan doesn't hate you."
Angel snorted at this. "He certainly isn't behaving like an adoring
son."
"Oh, he does hate his father, but not you." Angel frowned at her
in askance. "You aren't his father, Angel, none of what happened was
really *your* fault any more than you're really Bren's father. That was
all another Angel, the one who dumped Cordy for a four-hundred-year-old slut.
"
"No, Buffy, it was me, just a future version of me."
Buffy cast him an appraising gaze. "He's curious about you, you know.
In many ways, you're still innocent of the things his 'real' father did, you're
not the one Cordy threw out her life, and that helps Brendan almost forgive
you."
Angel's eyes lit up at this, the first good news in all the recent darkness.
Before he could question Buffy further, the object of his thoughts approached
the pair.
"Aunt B, d'you know where you put the Scroll Of Arnolaic that Uncle
Giles is harping on about?" the boy asked, his eyes meeting with Angel's
briefly.
"I think it's up in the attic in the box next to all the Christmas
stuff. Do you want me to get it?"
"Nah, I'll go, it's better than listening to Giles lecture me about how
I'm still too young to be out slaying. I don't get it, you were slaying at
fifteen so what's so big about me doin' the same? He never gives Ash or the
twins this much hassle."
Buffy smiled. "I think Giles finds it hard to remember his youngest
Junior Scooby is not a baby he can carry around any more. Go easy on the old
guy."
Brendan allowed himself to share in her smile, cast one last look at Angel,
then strolled out to search for the mislaid scroll. The adults watched him,
Angel mulling over what Buffy said.
"You think I have some chance to getting to know him?" he asked,
hating that he sounded less like the shrewd master vampire he was and more like
an uncertain toddler.
"He's a great kid, don't doubt his ability to forgive you," Buffy
assured, with an insight he admired. The days when it was she who so needed his
support, experience and guidance were long gone. "Cordy did a wonderful
job with him. He's not totally unable to be reasoned with, you've just got to
be willing to put in that extra work. I think Cordy would be pleased you had
some chance with him, and Bren knows that."
Angel nodded thoughtfully, then made his decision. Before he turned, he
spared a smile for his ex-girlfriend. "I hope Spike appreciates you or
I'll have to dust him."
"Well, he's always telling me how precious I am to him," grinned
the former Slayer.
He'd once told Cordelia that same when he was in a haze from a session of
the Walking Stick; she was stunned at the time and he regretted that she would
never know how true that statement was.
*****************************
"What do you want?"
Brendan wasn't surprised to sense Angel's presence enter the attic. He had
to give the bloodsucker credit, his old man wasn't worth shit but this younger
version of his father was determined to try his best in regards to his son. And
deep down, Brendan wanted to reciprocate those tentative efforts for he knew
this would be the closest he would ever see of his father.
"I thought I'd give you a hand," Angel replied, unperturbed by the
boy's animosity.
Brendan glowered at Angel, his scowl a constant companion whenever in the
vampire's company. "I don't need anything from you." The father and
son just scrutinized each other for a moment. "You're not my father, not *really*,
so why are you bothering?"
"So you know then?"
"'Course, why d'you think I haven't staked you yet? Aunt B doesn't keep
secrets from me, she doesn't lie. That's your job."
"Touché," Angel conceded, "and I'm sorry, the regret I feel
for leaving you and Cordelia-"
"You never left, she *threw* you out for going behind her back
to help that blond slut then getting all dark and obsessive again."
"Okay, but even though I'm sorry, it's not my fault. I haven't done
anything, Brendan."
The teenager studied his father intently. Granted he loathed Angel, he had
to admit the guy standing in front of him was, in some ways, different. It was
so confusing, all the emotions swirling around; the urge to stake him right
there and then balancing capriciously with the natural curiosity of a boy who
just wanted to know his father.
Brendan relented, shrugging. "I should find that scroll, we'll be
facing some bad ass vamps tonight. They're trying to end the world again. Don't
these dead buggers ever get sick of the same old tricks?"
Angel smiled sheepishly at that, much to Brendan's amazement. His mother had
always said for a broody dead guy, Angel could be so bashful at times.
"Have you been fighting for long?"
"I guess, Mom made sure I mastered martial arts and fencing and stuff
from the second I was walking. She always made sure I knew how to protect
myself. When she died, Uncle Will and Aunt Buffy took over my training,
sometimes Aunt Faith would come and do some stuff with me too."
Angel's ear pricked up at the name. "Faith? You know her?"
He wondered what would have happened to the wayward Slayer without his
support. He had promised to stand by her when she would finally be released
from prison, probably another of his trail of broken promises.
"Yeah," the teenager replied. "Mom helped her a bit when she
got early release. She stuck around for a while, I don't think she got over the
fact she wasn't there Mom and the others were k...Anyway, she lives on the East
Coast now, got a job in some karate school."
"Good," the vampire murmured, at least of one person had not
suffered because of him.
The boy shrugged. "I saw Aunt Faith change, become one of us. It was
then I decided it was my job to fight the good fight too. And when I turned twelve,
I started with Darla as my first claim." He couldn't help smirk slightly
with a hint of pride; the vamped-out bitch hadn't expected to go down by the
hand of her favourite childe's child.
"Yes, I heard." There was a catch in Angel's voice, it wasn't
anger at killing his sire but rather the same reproachful quality Brendan heard
so many times in Giles. He didn't approve of his son's chosen 'profession'.
Sure enough, Angel said, "Don't you want to do something other than 'fight
the good fight'?"
"What's better than fighting for the Light?" Brendan frowned, at a
loss.
"Nothing," Angel said quickly, "it's just you're so young, surely
you want to do something normal with your life."
"Mom didn't do anything normal." He glowered slightly, more in
adolescent irritation than any real anger. "You sound like the
others."
Angel must have sensed his mood for he pushed the subject further. "The
others?"
"Yeah, Uncle Giles, Aunt B, Ash; they all worry too much as well. They
think I might follow in what could become a Chase family tradition."
"What's that?"
"Dying young. My mom was only twenty-seven, Uncle Giles worries I might
beat that."
In the days after his family's deaths, even though Buffy and Spike were the
one who fostered him, it was Giles who made a point to spend a great deal of
time with the grief-stricken child. It was only as Brendan matured and became
aware of both his powers and his own intuition that he understood fully why the
Watcher felt so responsible for him. It was guilt, pure and simple.
Brendan was a mild empath, a gift from his maternal heritage, and from the
remorse he felt from the ageing man he loved like a grandfather, he knew Giles
wished he'd done more to keep Cordelia away from Angel back in the very start.
If so, his mother might have had a chance of a normal life with a human husband
and a bunch of happy children. Instead, all Cordelia Chase had to show for
twenty-seven years of life was a grave, which she shared with her two best
friends, and one screwed-up kid who was probably destined to join her in
premature death.
"Is that something I should worry about too?" Angel asked, worry
colouring his tone.
Hell, if he carried on like this, Brendan might be led to think the vampire
actually cared.
"Not really, you needn't think that I'm suicidal or anything, I'm not.
I hope I at least live long enough to find the bloodsuckers who were
responsible for my family's murders. I have plans for them."
Angel's brow furrowed in askance. "What kind of plans?"
"Oh, plans involving Chinese water torture with holy water, UV therapy
and I always wanted to know what happens if you cut off a vamp's limbs, whether
it grows back or not." Brendan hid a wicked grin when he saw Angel's
horrified expression. "Hey, I guess I have more in you than you thought or
should it be more of Angelus."
Angel seemed stunned that he could so casually compare himself to his
father's demonic persona. "Don't be ridiculous. You're nothing like
Angelus."
"How do you know? You know nothing about me."
Brendan could see it hurt so much for Angel to hear those words from his own
son but it was the truth.
"You're right," Angel admitted, "I should have been there for
Cordelia, for you. I was...am...will be your father, I should have helped bring
you up."
"You couldn't even bring up phlegm," Brendan hissed. "And you
might have been my father by blood but when I think of my father in reality, I
think of Wesley or Will. Wes was the one who was there for me, who tucked me
in, read me stories, protected me. He died for me; all you were good for was
making my mother cry."
Angel was speechless. "I made her cry?"
"Sometimes, when she thought about you. She tried to make out to me
that you were an okay guy but there were nights when I heard her cry,
especially when she saw Spike- a once soulless demon- and Buffy making a go of
things. She may have cut ties with you but I think she still loved you."
Brendan smiled sardonically. "You know, I think she was even thinking of
taking me to see you, maybe give things another go."
"What didn't she?"
"Because she died, died fighting a fight that should have been
yours."
Angel tried to touch him but the boy stepped back. "You were there,
weren't you? It changed you."
"Something like that tends to have a lasting effect on a kid."
"What happened?"
Why was he so interested? Surely it wasn't something that he actually wanted
to hear. Brendan was conscious of the fact that Angel harboured feelings for
his mother so hearing the exact details of her death would only bring more
guilt for the vampire. Was that what he wanted? The evil
pathetic-excuse-for-a-father he had always envisioned was starting to fall
apart the more time he spent in the vampire's company.
"Do you really want to know?" the teenager quizzed, his voice
barely audible, "I can show you, if you want."
"Show me? How?" Angel asked, curious.
"Call it a gift from my mother. She could share the future and she
later learnt how to share the past."
At his father's hesitant nod, Brendan reached forward, his smaller hands
clasped Angel's larger ones. Meeting the vampire's intense stare, the boy
opened his mind and his memories.
****flashback****
Flashes of Brendan toddling through the
Hyperion, everything seeming so big through a toddler's eyes; being carried
around on Gunn's shoulder; Wesley quietly reading to him with the boy snuggled
in his bed; the MC Demon, whom the boy referred to as 'Uncle Lorne' singing to
him...And Cordelia hugging their son with the ferocity of a loving mother.
Flickers of insight into his son's life- his
first day of nursery, of school, of learning demonology from Wesley. A warm
glow lit within the boy as memories of Cordelia and his doting Uncles Wesley,
Charles and Lorne flitted through his mind.
The scene suddenly cut to the Hyperion. The drapes
were shut against the night sky and the only illumination in the bullpen of the
office was from a dim lamp. Brendan was sitting on the desk as he watched his
mother and Wesley dash around the room, pulling out various weapons. The boy's
legs dangled carelessly, his feet far from the floor given the six-year-old
lacked the height he would develop in adolescence.
His empathic senses, senses his mother
developed some years after gaining the visions, were in overdrive as he picked
up on Cordelia and Wesley's raw anxiety and fear. He had never seen the usually
self-controlled and collected adults in such a state, and his own worry churned
his stomach. Whatever made his mother and uncle tense could not be good.
"What's wrong?" the boy asked.
"Why are you all scared?"
Cordelia smiled in rebuke. "Brendan, you
know we shouldn't intrude in people's thoughts, it's not nice."
Suddenly the phone rang, Wesley swiftly
answering it before Brendan could reach for it. "Hello, Angel
Investigations," he greeted, curtly. Glancing at Cordelia and her son, he
turned away at whatever response he received, murmuring answers back. After a
brief conversation with the caller, he hung up and turned back, his eyes bleak.
"That was one of Gunn's kids- he's out."
"Out where?" Brendan asked,
guilelessly.
Wesley spared a watery smile for his godson.
"No-where, Bren."
"We're next," Cordelia said, moving
to her son's side and pulling the boy into her arms.
The ex-Watcher nodded, melancholy. "Yes,
that much is certain."
A wistful haze past across Cordelia's eyes,
before she grabbed a small backpack and a denim jacket resting by the side of
the desk. Setting Brendan on the floor, she tugged the jacket then the backpack
onto the bewildered boy before leading the boy into the main office.
"What's going on?" Brendan asked,
sensing the tangible fear from the two adults.
Cordelia knelt down to her son's eye level,
and grasped him lightly by his slender shoulders. "You're going to have to
be brave for me now, Bren. I need for you to listen to me, okay?"
"I'm listening, Mommy," replied the
child, obediently though his eyes shifted from his mother to where Wesley was
opening the trapdoor that led to the sewer systems below.
Brendan Chase might only have been
six-and-a-half years old, however, even a boy of such a slight age knew he
would not like what he was to be told.
Wesley rejoined the mother and son, placing
his hand on the boy's soft cheek. "You know I love you, Brendan."
"I love you too, Unca Wes," Brendan
said, uncertainly. He didn't understand why Wesley was talking like this but he
didn't like it at all.
"You're a good boy, Bren, and I know
you'll grow to be a fine man. One that I would always be proud to call my chosen
son." Wesley's soft brown eyes glistened with unshed tears. He looked up
at Cordelia. "I'll be in the front office."
The Seer mumbled an acknowledgement, although
her eyes were fastened to her child before her. She stroked Brendan's soft hair
back from his face.
The boy bit his lip. "Mommy, something
bad is happening, isn't it?"
"Yes, something bad is happening."
The hardened, intensity shining in Cordelia's eyes scared the boy. "I
don't want you to worry about a thing, honey. I just want you to listen to me
and you'll be fine."
"Okay, Mom. But why are we here?
Shouldn't we be out helping Unca Wes get the weapons ready?"
"I will in a minute."
Brendan didn't like how his mother phrased
that response. "*We*
will, I'm gonna be helping, Mom. It's my fight too." He might only have
been a small child, but he knew of his own duty in the good fight.
However, his mother shook her head, putting a
hand on the boy's baby soft cheek. "No, Bren, it's not your fight. You're
a little boy, one day you'll fight too but it's not going to be here and it's
not going to be now. I want you to listen to me now, Brendan, I want you to
follow the tunnels to where I showed you and then get out and take the first
bus to Sunnydale. Your Aunt Buffy and Uncle Spike will protect you."
Now it was Brendan's turn to shake his head.
"No, Mom, I want to stay with you." He tried to squirmed away but
Cordelia had a firm grip on his shoulder.
"Do as I say," Cordelia said,
firmly but not unkindly. Her voice cracked a little. "I need for you to do
this. Please?"
At the pleading tone in the Seer's voice, the
boy halted his struggles. He would do anything for his mother, even walk away
when she asked him to.
"Okay, okay, I'll go, Mommy."
Struggling to choke back his tears and not
make this any harder for his mother, Brendan threw himself into her arms.
Cordelia embraced him tightly, stroking his hair.
"Remember, Bren," she murmured,
"I'll always be with you, not matter what happens..."
*******
Buffy opened the door and entered the
hospital room followed by Brendan and Spike. The vampire's hair was his natural
colour and he appeared to have aged slightly, a sign he was now human. A
further indication of his evident humanity was how the former vampire's hand
rested on the child's shoulder in an effort to comfort him.
Brendan pulled away from the adults and moved
further into the room, his wide eyes fixed on his mother. Cordelia was
unconscious; her face pale and waxen, her body attached to so much medical
paraphernalia she looked less like a woman and more like some kind of robot.
Brendan glanced back at his guardians; tears
pooled in the adults' eyes. Turning back to Cordelia's still form, he swallowed
then inched to her side.
"Mom?" whispered the boy.
"Mommy, please come back. Don't leave me alone..."
*******
Brendan was crouched by a grave plot. Despite
the shroud of darkness gracing the cemetery, the youngster was more than aware
of someone creeping up behind him; his heightened senses the soft footsteps
over the grassy path towards him.
"Hello, Aunt B," he murmured, not even
turning.
"Lorne said you'd be here." The boy
heard Buffy sigh heavily, she knelt down by his side. "Brendan, we were
worried sick. You know you shouldn't go wandering around at night. LA is not a
safe place for a child."
"Vampires can't drain me."
"I'm not just talking about vampires,
there are bad humans out there as well."
"The mood I'm in, it's the perverts who
are the ones who should be scared...I-I just wanted to see them again before we
go back to Sunnydale."
The boy reached forward, his tiny fingers
hesitantly touching the greenish marble of the large grave stone. He traced the
words inscribed into the stone, which read:
<<<-----
Cordelia Chase
1981-2009
Wesley Wyndham-Price
1975-2009
Charles Gunn
1978-2009
They fought the darkness and protected the light
Dearly missed by Brendan and their special
family
'Even when I walk through the valley of death,
I will fear no evil'
----->>>
"Book of Psalms, chapter twenty-three,
verse four. God, I have be the only vampire who knows the Bible by heart, huh?
Wes says we should have an understanding of all religious scriptures in our
line of work." He still spoke in present tense in regards to his late
uncle.
"Wesley taught you well, Bren," Buffy
said softly.
Brendan smiled faintly at a memory.
"Yeah, he said it was important for me the learn about these things. He
used to do different voices when he read the Bible out to me sometimes. For a
walking encyclopaedia, he can be so goofy...could be," he corrected,
morosely.
The boy and Slayer sat in silence for a while
then Buffy cleared her throat. "Angel came to see me today. He wants to
see you."
"Well, I don't wanna see him." Brendan's voice was sharp and adamant, the sheer
force of his determination so like his mother's.
"Brendan, he's your father-"
"I hate him! I hate more than anything.
It's all his fault. Mommy...Wes and Unca Charles...They would still be here
with me if it wasn't for him. He's not my father. And if you make me see him, I
swear I'll drive a stake right through his heart then wash his ashes away with
holy water."
The boy's words were more vicious than any
six-year-old's voice had a right to be. The anger and rage were vehement.
"It's okay, you know I would never force
you to see him. God knows, Angel hasn't been a part of your life before and
that doesn't have to change if you don't want it to." Buffy smoothed the
boy's unruly hair. "Bren, I know what it's like to lose a mother. You
won't ever forget the pain but it will get easier to deal with, and we'll
always be here for you. Me, Will, Giles, Xander and Anya, the other kids,
you'll have us always. Cordelia was my friend, and I would do anything to
protect her boy," she smiled slightly, "especially when he's as
handsome and wonderful as you."
"I know...Aunt Buffy, I was thinking and
I figured that we each want what the other has."
"What do you mean?"
"You had much longer with your mom than
I'll ever have...And I, I'll have the chance to avenge my mother's death."
****end flashback****
As the vision misted over, Brendan pulled away from Angel, self-consciously
fidgeting. For his part, Angel was literally speechless. What could he say to
the boy after experiencing his pain and fear first-hand? There was nothing in
the world he could do to atone for what he did to Cordelia and his son the day
he abandoned them, and he finally understood why Brendan maintained his vicious
hostility even after all the years that had passed.
Cordelia's bittersweet words to her young son in their last moments together
rang out in Angel's mind as well as Brendan's disturbing vow of vengeance. He
wasn't surprised to find his eyes slightly damp; he hadn't cried for over a
century.
"Not happy viewing, huh?" Brendan muttered, breaking the silence
between them.
"You must hate me," was all Angel could force his voice to say.
"I did, I do...But you're not him. My father is the one who left the
good fight, you haven't done so yet."
Pride in his son swelled within Angel. How hard it must have been to utter
those words to someone who in many ways caused the death of your family. It was
far more than what he himself would say to anyone who had done likewise.
Brendan chewed his lip then said, softly, "Their deaths weren't
entirely my father's fault though."
"What do you mean?"
"Mom and Wes could have gotten away." When the boy spoke, it was
without the usual confidence and aloofness that favoured his voice. It was
almost as if he was divulging a confession. "When they put me into the
sewers, Mom and Wes went back to fight off the vamps, keep them off my back. I
knew them too well, they wanted to give me the best chance, they always did
things like that." Brendan sighed, wearily. "You know, Mom used to
get this look in her eyes, one that told me she'd do anything, she'd lay out
her own life, to protect me whether I wanted that or not. And that night she
had to."
Looking at the boy before him, seeing him properly for the first time, Angel
realized that Brendan still carried the softness of childhood in his physical
features but it was his eyes...They carried a weight far heavier that any
fifteen-year-old kid should know.
This boy before him was his last link to Cordelia and anything he might have
had with her. He didn't want to see Brendan walk down the same path of death
and destruction that his parents had been so familiar with. It had become
vitally important to Angel to provide something better for his son, give him a
second chance.
"Oh, look, found the scroll," Brendan said, pulling a rolled up
piece of parchment from a box. After his disclosure a few moments ago, the boy
seemed eager to escape from his father's company. "Better get this to
Giles before he blows a gasket." He quickly moved to the door.
"Brendan?"
Angel couldn't just let him go like that. They had made some progress and he
wasn't about to flush that away to save himself the discomfort of using his
pathetic people skills which Cordelia had tried so hard to hone.
"I...I know that your mother would be very proud of you. I might not
really be your father but you certainly feel like my son. You've done so well
despite all that has happened, and I want you to know that I'm very proud of
you too."
The boy smirked. "You should be, I have a whole book of prophecies
written about
"You don't say," Angel smiled. He watched his son stop at the door
then turn when he called his name once more, feeling the need to say more.
"Bren, it wasn't your fault, your mother wouldn't want you to go through
your life thinking it was. You were not even six years old, if you had stayed
then there would be four bodies buried in that tomb. Cordelia would have rather
died a thousand times than seen that happen. Always remember that."
For a moment, Brendan was silent then he nodded slightly. "And it
wasn't your fault either...Father."
Angel watched as the boy left the room, for the first time since arriving in
this place his heart warm. He had never thought someone would ever call him
'Father'; sure, Drucilla addressed him as 'Daddy' when she was having one of
her episodes but the feelings of tenderness and love were never present, not
like what he associated with Brendan.
After tonight, he was going to make an effort to carve some sort of
relationship with his and Cordelia's son. She might been dead, however he still
had a responsibility to make things right even if he was nine years too late.
Angel was more than aware he would never really be the boy's true father- both
literally or metaphorically- but some bond between them was better than
nothing.
"Thank you so much, Cordy," he murmured to the girl who had given
him the best gift ever.
End of Chapter Four
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Chapter Five
It was never meant to be this way. After their late night fight
against evil, Angel and Brendan were meant to return home and work on making up
the fifteen years of father-son relationship they had missed. Brendan was
supposed to grow up to be a more balanced young man and Angel was to find a way
to live in a world without Cordelia.
Only Angel had learned through bitter experience that life never moved in
the way he wished it would.
The Scooby Gang, all grown up with their junior members present, had gone to
the abandoned church where the showdown with scazem demon and his disciples-
who were, of course, intent on opening the Hellmouth- was due to take place.
Angel was surprised how well trained the young generation of Scoobies were and
how the adults were now as organized as any military unit.
From the minute they arrived at the church, each set about their own task;
Giles, Anya and Jesse worked on their scroll and spell, Xander and Jodie used
the heavy-duty weaponry whilst the feistier fighters of the elder and younger
Slayers, Spike, Brendan and Angel relied on stakes and their physical strength.
Still, despite all the Scoobies being present and with the added support of
Angel, it became painfully obvious they were seriously outnumbered. It wasn't
long before Buffy and Spike, now physically adults in their forties, were the
first to tire, bleeding from wounds and struggling to keep pace. As he fought,
Angel caught sight of Jodie falling and Xander understandably abandoning his
post to protect his daughter and carry her to a safer position.
It was in the thick of the bloody battle when Angel noticed one of the
demon's disciples, standing in the safety of the upper ledges, aim a crossbow
at their strongest fighter Ashleigh. Just as he moved to push the girl out of
the way, Brendan also took heed of the demon's objective.
Closer to Ashleigh, the boy sprinted towards his best friend with the
agility of a feline and Angel could only watch, his usually dextrous limbs
frozen in sheer shock, as his son was unable to shift from the arrow's speeding
target. Brendan fell back as the arrow tore it's way into his unprotected chest
and then there was a lull, the boy silent and still with the weapon sickeningly
protruding from his body.
Rushing to Brendan's side, uncaring for the fight or without regard to
himself, Angel grabbed a a stake from his belt. He projected the stake with
strength fuelled by his grief and rage and with perfect accuracy, the demon who
had dared to harm his son collapsed forward and dropped to the floor.
The strong coppery scent of blood pervaded Angel's sense of smell before he
reached his fallen son and as he knelt beside the boy, pulling his smaller form
into his arms. Usually, even the hint of blood would have set Angel's saliva
glands watering in hunger but this time he felt nothing, only the pain of
seeing his son squirming in agony in his arms.
Nearby, Ashleigh's eyes watered at her friend's plight though her slayer
instincts forced her to continue the fight leaving Angel to tend to Brendan
alone.
"You're going to be fine," Angel said softly.
Brendan, despite his injuries, managed to muster a sarcastic snort.
"Don't...think so..."
Angel wanted to just pick the boy up and race him to a hospital yet a
deeper sense within him could see his son's time was ticking, drawing to a
close. He had killed so many children as in his time of Angelus, walking away
from their broken bodies without a second thought. Even ensouled, while the
death of a child did sadden him, he was not unduly affected as most humans
were.
Until today.
Ironically, it took the pain of his own son's injuries to fully comprehend
why people so mourned the death of a life cut short far too son. Brendan didn't
deserve this, he was just a little boy. He should be living, free...not
slipping away from the glorious adventure of life.
It couldn't happen like this. Not to his boy dammit! Not to the one who was
his last link to Cordy.
Angel was overwhelmed with denial, he wasn't just going to watch Brendan
die. He wouldn't. "Don't talk like that, we'll get you to a hospital
and-"
The strains and struggles of his friends fighting faded into the background,
his son's wheezing amplified in his ears. He adjusted Brendan into a more
comfortable position, holding the boy tenderly like one would hold a new-born infant.
The boy moaned softly but kept his hold on consciousness with the tenacity of
his mother.
Feelings of helplessness and inadequacy swelled through Angel, he hadn't
felt so useless since Cordy lay in a vision induced coma. For all his strength
and prowess, he could nothing now but watch the boy die before his eyes.
Angel felt a soft touch on his cheek and looked down to meet Brendan's gaze-
dark eyes fusing with identical dark eyes. "D...don't be sad," the
boy choked out, his stare softening for the first time.
Damn, for all he had done to his son, the boy was protecting him from the
pain.
"I've...missed Mom," Brendan murmured, a tear escaping from his
eye.
The vampire understood, Brendan was tired. He was letting his father know he
was going to be okay as he let go.
"You'll see her soon," Angel reassured softly, no matter how
difficult it was to allow his son to let go.
Brendan scrutinized him for a moment that seemed to span an eternity then he
spoke in a wispy voice so stark in comparison to his typical strong timbre.
"Did...did you l-love...my mom?" The boy was struggling to breathe,
fighting for each precious drop of oxygen to feed his failing lungs. Blood
welled from his mouth, trickling down his chin.
Angel gently cleaned the blood away with his sleeve. "I do..." He
spoke in present tense, thinking of the girl he saw just a few short days ago
and all that he truly felt for her, blocking out her tragic fate and his own
part in it. "I love her more than anything."
His own tears dripped from his cheeks onto Brendan's bleached features. The
teenager slowly reach to touch the moisture then glanced back to his father,
his eyes now glazing over, losing the life that had once bloomed so vibrantly
before.
In a soft whisper, almost inaudible to even Angel's heightened senses, he
whispered. "T-then...we....we'll be...w-waiting f-f-for you...on the other
s-side..." His eyes fluttered shut and his hand dropped weightlessly to
his side.
Angel felt the boy's form suddenly going completely limp and boneless in his
arms. He shook him, more fervently. He wasn't ready to say goodbye yet, he
didn't want to be alone. He *needed* Brendan back.
"Bren...come on, wake up!" His voice was broke at the last word,
tears now freely rolling down his face. "Don't go..." Angel brushed a
strand of hair from his son's face. "Brendan..." he murmured,
forlornly.
The father cradled his dead son's body close to him. The boy whose infancy
and childhood he had lost out on because of his obsession with Darla. Instead,
it was Wesley who had helped tuck *his* child in at night, who had
comforted Brendan and protected him. Cordelia had been right to cut him out of
Brendan's life, he didn't deserve the boy's love.
"Poor little boy," sneered a mocking voice.
Angel forced himself to turn from his son to find himself face-to-face with
a grinning vampire who stared in disgust at the other's grief. If Angel had the
energy, he was would have easily overpowered and staked this pathetic minion.
But Brendan's weariness was contagious and all he wanted was to remain by his
boy's side.
"And poor little traitor shedding tears for a human." The grimly,
filthy creature smirked, producing a long pointed plank of wood. "Well,
let's reunite you."
"Angel, no!"
Buffy's screams were cut short as Angel welcomed the sharp, intense pain of
the make-shift stake piercing his still heart. The pain lasted a long moment
then he embraced the guiding light as his ashes fell to the floor...
*****************************
He gasped for unnecessary air, sitting up in his bed. The glare of the sun
despite the closed drapes blinded him, Angel putting his arm up to shield his
eyes. Slowly adjusting to the light, he glanced around in a familiar
bewilderment.
What had happened? He was meant to be dead.
Reaching to his bedside cabinet, he pulled over the newspaper he had bought
as a tool to track news of Darla's victims. The date printed at the top of the
Had it all been a dream? Was Brendan all but a figment of his imagination, a
representation of the child he could only hope for?
He felt a dull ache in his chest as he shifted in the bed. Frowning, Angel
peeled back his shirt taking a sharp intake of breath at what he saw. Above
where his unbeating heart lay the skin was marred by an inflamed tender scar,
which in a normal human would be the remains of injury inflicting the heart.
The wound was painful, fresh and deep, yet he was still here and not a pile of
dust.
A scent filled his sensitive nose, and he raised his sleeve up to his face.
Though his sleeve was clean, there was a strong scent of blood...Brendan's
blood, a smell reminiscent of both Cordelia's and, well, his own.
"Brendan...?" he whispered.
Suddenly, the weight of his son's limp body was once again vivid in his
memory where it was forever embedded in his mind...But only the boy wasn't born
yet, he wouldn't even be conceived for a good few months. The slate, while
scratched, was still clean. Cordelia, his friends, they were all alive and
well.
This meant he had a second chance to rectify his mistakes! He might not
have deserved it, God only knew how many second and third and fourth chances
Angel had frittered away but this time he wouldn't allow fate to slip through
his fingers.
Angel would do whatever he had to in order save his Seer and son before it
was too late.
He would do whatever it took- apologize repeatedly, go on his hands and
knees to beg, bribe, anything- but he make Cordelia trust him again and let him
back into her life. And this time, he would keep her safe, he would protect her
with the ferocity she deserved. No-one, be it Darla or Wolfram and Hart, would
separate him from her side.
Then, when he had time, Angel would visit Sunnydale where his
ex-girlfriend and grandchilde lived...After all, Buffy and Spike had not even a
year before they would have their own little arrival on their hands.
End of Chapter Five
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Epilogue
Angel glanced out the window and shook his head in resigned amusement at the
little boy, who was gleefully swinging from a tree under the watchful gaze of
the young man who was sharpening his tools in the light of the moon. He could
never tire of seeing his boys together- Connor and Brendan, the sons he was
never meant to have.
Brendan was bouncing around, chattering non-stop to his ever patient elder
brother. It still amazed him at the never-ending bound of energy possessed by a
child so young. From the time he woke up at the crack of dawn until the time he
grudgingly trudged to bed at night, he was a boisterous handful- one that Angel
had to watch constantly least he fall foul to another of his mischievous jokes.
And Connor, he had come so far in the short time Angel had reclaimed him though
he was no less of a handful than his young brother.
But both were handfuls he would never relinquish no matter what...
For a former vampire over two centuries old who had no clue about with
raising a family, Angel found himself remarkably comfortable with the position
of father. His little taste six years ago had taught him to be the best parent
a child could have; that bitter and dark Brendan would never be allowed to
develop. His family would only know the light.
He glanced to the calendar hanging nearby. The year was now 2009 and today
was that fated day when his son, that other Brendan, had watched his mother and
uncles slain as they lay down their lives for him. Angel shivered, he couldn't
imagine his very young, very innocent six-year-old child witnessing what his
other could-have-been son had seen.
Once realizing what had happened, the gift of sight he had received from
whoever had sought to give him another chance, Angel had been filled with a
new-found sense of determination. It took him a month to successfully convince
Cordelia and the others he had changed before they allowed him back into their
lives.
Of course, nothing was ever simple for them. Darla could never just die and
leave them be, she would never allow things to be so easy for him. But the
present she left was not what he had expected or been prepared for, namely
their son Connor, the only child to be conceived of two vampires and every bit
as precious as Angel's human family. And for a brief moment, Angel
understood why his alternate self was fooled by his sire's claims of redemption
when he witnessed Darla sacrifice herself to give their son life.
Only Connor's childhood was doomed to be almost as dark as his alternate
brother's had been. Kidnapped at the age of two months to be returned just a
few short months before they discovered Cordelia was pregnant with Bren though
accelerated to the age of sixteen, it had been a tough road for father and son
to build a relationship. Connor had been so bitter, possessing the same bottled
dangerous rage that seemed so familiar to Angel whenever he reminisced over the
possible future Brendan. And in many ways, bonding with Connor was Angel's
living reminder of how easily his happiness could be snatched away if he wasn't
careful.
Now, watching his boys laughing and playing, it was reminder Angel would
never let go. For the joy his children had brought into his life was worth any
sacrifice he had to make in the past. Just as the unrelenting, deep love
he shared with Cordelia, Brendan's adoring mother, was a bond he would rather
die for than lose to his dark past.
When he was with Buffy, he thought that was happiness. Now he saw that was
nothing compared to the pure, burning love he felt for his family. His life was
finally on a track he was proud of, and he could feel the hint of humanity
forming beneath the surface of his body. His Shanshu was coming and he was more
than ready for it. It was just a goal before, now it was the final piece to
perfection, to the completion of having a normal life.
A sharp shriek shattered Angel's thoughts and he quickly dashed outside to
find the weeping boy crouched on the ground, examining a grazed knee with
Connor was trying to tend to the reluctant child.
"What is it with kids and trees?" Connor asked with a frown. The
simplicity of climbing trees in childhood was never a luxury he could have
afforded growing up in a hell dimension.
Through his soft cries, Brendan managed to tearfully retort, “You
had demons to slay and I got trees!”
"Trees, demon hunting- where did my kids get this daredevil streak
from?" Angel murmured as he knelt beside the smaller boy.
He knew full well the answer his question, however. With a vampire father
fighting the good fight coupled with a vivacious and headstrong mother (or big
sister figure in Connor's case) equally involved in the fight, it was little
wonder their children were following fast in their footsteps.
"It...it hurts, Daddy," little Brendan whispered. He tried to be
brave but his lip was quivering and his expressive dark eyes were flooded with
tears.
Angel bit back his reproaching tirade and put his arms around the tiny frame
pulling his son into his arms effortlessly. "Come on, scamp, we'll put a
plaster on that and make it all better."
"'Kay."
In the kitchen, while Connor distracted his brother by regaling him with
stories of his own -more gruesome- childhood injuries, Angel cleaned the graze
with Savlon, inwardly proud at the show of bravery from the little boy who only
whimpered slightly when the cotton ball drenched in disinfectant touched his
wounded skin. He awarded his son with a '
Grinning contentedly, Brendan threw his arms around Angel. "You made it
better."
Angel embraced his child closer, smoothing his silky dark hair and inhaling
the little-boy scent of cookies and milk. "You know your Daddy takes care
of his boy, Bren," he murmured back.
"And what are my men doing?"
Father and sons looked up to see Cordelia enter the kitchen, carrying their
youngest Kaitlin in her arms.
"Look at my plaster, Mommy." Brendan held his knee up for his
mother's inspection.
"You should be happy, when I was a kid we had to dress our cuts with
leaves and grass," Connor replied, tousling his brother's hair.
Brendan frowned, smoothing his hair back in place in a gesture so obviously
Angel's, then rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, and you had to walk ten miles,
in barefeet *and* in the snow, to school. Sometimes you sound just like
Dad, like two old grandpas going on about the olden days."
"Hey!" retorted Angel and Connor, in mock insult.
Cordelia smiled in amusement. Never let it be said the boy lacked his
mother's sharp wit. "Now what happened to my baby's knee?"
"I'm not a baby, Mommy. I cut myself but I never cried."
"That's because you're my brave boy," Cordelia smiled, pecking him
softly on the cheek.
"What about me?" Angel protested in feigned indignation.
Cordy snorted. "He who was scared of taking Kait and Jonathan to see
the 'Teletubbies' movie."
"Hey, those things rot the mind."
His wife smiled in amusement. She moved closer, whispering playfully in his
ear, "Wimp." Then she kissed him before Kaitlin's tiny hands push him
back.
"Kissies too," demanded the toddler.
Angel swiftly swooped the giggling child into his arms and peppered her with
loud, exaggerated kisses and tickles, revelling in his daughter's delight.
Like Connor, eighteen-month-old-old Kaitlin had been a complete surprise to
Angel. While he had always expected Cordelia to fall pregnant with their son,
he had never thought of the consequences to their family were he to remain by
her side after the birth.
As it was, their precious daughter Kaitlin was not the only surprise. Barely
a year before Kaitlin was born, Spike and Buffy had welcomed the birth of their
son whom they name Jonathan. And as for the rest of the family, Wesley- his
son's godfather- and his wife Fred, a young woman they had rescued from an
another world, were enjoying the delights of their toddler Cameron. And Gunn
was making the first moves to settling down with Faith, the rehabilitated
Slayer who had joined them along the way bringing with her a son, the now
five-year-old Joshua.
Of course, not everything was a fairy tale. Angel and the others were by no
means naive to the fact that it was no coincidence their respective children
were so close in age. Brendan in the alternate world was not joking when he
said he had a book of prophecies dedicated to him; there were days when it
seemed there was a whole library of prophecies relating to the children who
faced the same apocalyptic battles as their parents fought before them. For
now, all their parents could do was protect and educate them.
Back in Sunnydale, Spike had become human four months ago but the transition
to humanity had been in no way smooth for neither him nor his family. Still,
despite his grandchilde recovering his humanity first, Angel was not envious as
he began to realize that they each had their own destiny and there were some
times when the Scooby Gang would walk a different path than his family.
Angel Investigations still fought for the Powers That Be under the guise of
private investigations hunting down evil and protecting the innocent with
Wolfram and Heart still rattling their sabres from time-to-time. During those
turbulent moments, 'Uncle' Lorne- the universal godfather to this next
generation of champions- would take care of the children who were destined to
take over from their parents when the time came to pass the torch.
However, the day was still many years away. And the difficulties they faced
was easier to deal with compared with than the early years. Cordelia, Wesley
and Gunn had matured and their training much advanced and as for him... Angel
was starting to let his dormant humanity drive him more and more.
Only time would tell how their lives would turn out, he had no more hints or
insights. From this day, in that other world, Brendan's life had been based in
Sunnydale without Cordy's visions to guide them on LA victims and instead they
passed to the boy, focusing on the hopeless of Sunnydale. A completely
different set of demons than what they would face now, since they were still
based in LA.
It was strange to think that from this day on, he was setting a completely
different path and ensuring that other timeline would never exist. So focused
on preventing that day from where Cordy and his friends would die so brutally,
Angel had never considered what would happen afterwards. Before he had little
titbits from overheard conversations by Brendan and the others, some clues of
what demons they would face and how to defeat them.
It was different now. Angel didn't know what was going to follow, and he
surprisingly he liked it like that. He made him feel...human.
THE END
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Well, that's it, I hope you enjoyed it. Remember
this story was actually started ages ago, in the middle of the second season
and long before we knew of baby Connor's introduction and the older Connor's
re-appearance so things might seem weird here and there. In this revised
version of the story I've tried to include Connor in at the end to make things
a bit more 'authentic'. I plan to maybe write more in this universe, perhaps a
S/B story telling of Spike gaining his humanity or Buffy being the one to
experience a flash of the future where she sees her life with Spike and their
children. Anyway, please email me with any comments in this story or any other
my others.