Chapter 23

 

 

Angel stood behind the glass partition, hands pressed to the glass watching. It seemed as if he was forever waiting at this point.

 

His son was in that room. Clad in similar garb to Damon, Jade and Wesley… dressed similarly to all the Warriors that were present in that room.

 

Black tank top, black pants, combat boots on his feet. He was currently listening avidly to whatever Wesley was saying to him. Damon and Jade standing on either side of him.

 

“How long?” Cordy asked quietly from beside him.

 

“How long what?” he glanced down at her for only a millisecond before returning his attention to the room. To his son.

 

“How long have you known that Connor was Buffy’s child not Darla’s?” Cordy muttered in her haughtiest voice.

 

“After Buffy and Xander died,” Angel murmured. “Dawn and Connor figured it out first, then Giles…”

 

“And you didn’t think it was important enough to share with the rest of us? I mean we’re supposed to be your family Angel.”

 

“Things were awkward enough between us then Cor, you were just starting to get back on your feet, getting back into the swing of things…”

 

“So you told everyone else but Gunn and I? We’re supposed to be your friends not them.”

 

“Cordy,” Angel shook his head returning his gaze.

 

“Does Buffy know?”

 

“I told her that first night we were here…”

 

“And what did little miss Buffy think of the fact that Darla, your former lover and sire was the one that gave birth to her one and only child?”

 

“Are you trying to start a fight?” he asked glaring down at her with narrowed eyes.

 

“Just curious, it’s not like you’re volunteering any of this information.”

 

“She’s fine with it,” Angel muttered angling another glare at her when she snorted in disbelief.

 

“Of course she is, because Darla would be the one I’d choose to have our child if we were still together,” she smirked sarcastically. “You can’t tell me you believe that she’s fine with that, I’m not even with you and I wouldn’t be fine with that.”

 

“Well Darla’s dust, Buffy’s back… so are you finished yet?”

 

“Whatever… what are they doing down there?” Cordy shrugged turning her attention to the next room.

 

“They’re setting up the spell or whatever to welcome Connor to their circle in Buffy’s place.”

 

“How can they do that without Colin? I thought that was the whole problem with his being dead and Buffy being MIA that they didn’t have a complete circle.”

 

“I guess since Connor and Buffy share the same blood, the same genes they don’t need the full circle to do it, they didn’t really get into it.”

 

“So when this is done it’s your turn then right? You rub some Mohra blood on your skin, get to be transformed human again and then have the honor of being called as a Warrior so you can die young?”

 

“We have to wait two days after the ceremony binding Connor before they can do it.”

 

“So… sunglasses, sunscreen… Polaroid camera so we can take embarrassing photos of your extremely white legs and blackmail you with them later?”

 

“What the hell are you talking about now Cordy?”

 

“You’re not even close to being ready to be human… are you?” she muttered in exasperation.

 

 

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Connor listened intently to Wesley in front of him. At least part of him was, the other part was impatiently muttering for them to just get on with it.

 

That other part of him was also wondering just what he’d gotten himself into as he listened to Wesley ramble on and on about bonds and shield and safety words and all the things he should expect once the bond with the rest of the Indaran’s was complete.

 

And then a thought occurred to him and he frowned. If he was being bound to the group in his mothers place where would Buffy’s bond with the same group go?

 

“Hey Wes,” he waited for the Watcher to take a breath and interrupted. “What happens to Buffy’s bond with the group?”

 

“What do you mean?” Wesley glanced at him quizzically as withdrew a handkerchief from his pocket and began cleaning his glasses.

 

Connor found his lips curving into a smirk despite the tiny edge of panic he was feeling. That was a classic Watcher avoidance technique. He was almost positive that the Council of Watchers, of which he’d had the dubious distinction of meeting several members of, taught all their Watchers that particular move.

 

Plus he was quite familiar with that very same maneuver from Giles when he or Dawn asked the older man something that he didn’t want to.

 

Like something about sex.

 

“Well this whole ceremony is to bind me into the group in Buffy’s place…”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Well won’t it take away the groups ability to determine Buffy’s state of health?”

 

The smile of relief that crossed and then vanished from Wesley’s face surprised him. Because that was obviously not the question that Wesley had anticipated avoiding… which made him wonder what the Watcher wasn’t telling them.

 

“It’ll remove her presence from the majority of Indaran but not from your group. Damon, Jade, you and Angel once all the ceremonies are completed will still be able to sense her within your web. You don’t need to worry that we’ll not have any idea what’s going on with her.”

 

“Oh… good…” Connor studied the Watcher who was pushing his glasses back onto his face. Trying to determine what was being hidden from him, and by extent the rest of his group. With a barely imperceptible sigh he let it drop… for now.

 

“So when are we going to do this?”

 

 

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Xander shifted the pillow behind his back and looked expectantly at the door.

 

He knew Spike was out there. One of the grand things about his new found Hunter status was the whole demon sensing thing.

 

And he didn’t know how Buffy had stood it.

 

The never-ending ache that cramped all the muscles in the body must have been agony for her when she had been with Angel, and then again for the short time when she had been with Spike.

 

Of course she was female, with the feminine thing going on so she was probably used to the muscle cramps.

 

He on the other hand…

 

Part of him was really, really glad that he hadn’t had the whole demon-sensing thing and that Anya hadn’t still been a vengeance demon when they were together. Because he would have to break up with her over the pain alone.

 

He’d never thought he’d had a fairly low tolerance for pain but it seemed he did.

 

At least for the moment. He’d talked to several Warriors, a few Hunters and they all said the same thing. That eventually he would be so used to the pain that it would be virtually unnoticeable unless he wanted to use it.

 

Hopefully he wouldn’t need to.

 

But that tightening in his gut signaled the presence of a demon and since he knew that there were only two demons within the compound at the moment and that Angel would be hovering over Connor’s shoulder until the ceremony was done it could only mean that Spike had finally come to visit.

 

But instead of coming into the room the vampire continued to loiter in the hall, as he had been for about ten minutes. Maybe he was never going to come in and would instead skulk off into a corner.

 

He and Spike hadn’t been friend friends at the time of Anya’s assault, but they had come to an understanding and they had been getting along fairly well.

 

Most likely because while he knew that Spike wasn’t sleeping with Buffy any longer, he also knew that he himself wasn’t in love with the Slayer any longer. Knew that the crush that had caused him to despise Angel with everything that he was and ever would be had all but vanished as they settled into a comfortable brother-sister relationship finally.

 

But that didn’t mean he wasn’t still highly overprotective of the tiny Slayer. And that he wouldn’t cause severe bodily damage to anyone that dared to hurt her.

 

Buffy was after all one of his best friends.

 

She’d become an even closer friend than Wills because of their bonding over their exes. Both of them so madly in love with Angel and Cordy, both so angry that the vampire and the seer had begun a romantic relationship with each other instead of coming home where they belonged.

 

Buffy had asked him once, right before their ‘deaths’ if he thought Angel had ever loved her, or if it had all been some act to get into her pants.

 

He’d wanted to tell her that it had been act, it had been right on the tip of his tongue to do it. To shatter the illusions she still clung to, to crush what little bit of faith she still had in her soul mate; like his had been crushed and shattered.

 

But instead, for once in his life in an undoubtedly rare moment of maturity he’d instead drawn a deep breath and told her the truth as he saw it.

 

That Angel had loved her, would probably love her forever… that whatever Angel and Cordy were sharing it would never be anything like what the Slayer and her vampire had shared.

 

Buffy had looked at him with gratitude and told him the same. That whatever their two loves were doing together it would never surpass what they had shared with the two of them.

 

So both had clung to the dream that one day, someday Angel and Cordy would come home.

 

They hadn’t until it was to late… but the fact that they had come back at all had only proved them right.

 

When the door slowly pushed open his eyes once more focused on the door and with arched brows he watched Spike slowly walk into the room.

 

Letting the door close gently behind him the vampire glanced around at the numerous cards, balloons and stuffed critters that now adorned his room.

 

He had no idea when the Warriors complex had opened a gift shop on the premises, could have sworn there wasn’t one, but that could be the only explanation as to where all the stuff that was currently on all available surfaces of his room had come from.

 

Really… because he knew that no one was being allowed out of the compound as they waited. Cordy had complained about it just that morning.

 

“So…” Spike started his fingers fidgeting nervously.

 

“Yeah…” Xander shifted in the bed once more. He was getting really tired of laying in it but his bursts of strength while growing, still petered out after about an hour up.

 

“Hunter huh? How’d that happen?”

 

 

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Connor paced the room that he’d been left in restlessly. Jade had shoved him in, turned on a light and told him pointedly that he needed to prepare. Then she’d left before he’d had a chance to ask how exactly he was supposed to do that.

 

Was there some ritual that they’d told him about that he’d missed? He didn’t think so; he’d been listening fairly intently so he thought he would have caught something that important.

 

So he paced, all the while fuming as he waited to be taken back to the room where the ritual was going to be taking place. Wesley hadn’t been able to tell him very much about the actual ritual, although they had covered small portions of it.  The gist of his part was to stand there, offer his hand when asked and be bound to the circle in his mothers place.

 

Easy right? Somehow he thought it would be more intricate than that.

 

Lacing his hands behind his head he drew a deep breath and then turned in surprise when he heard the door open behind him.

 

“It’s time,” Brendan nodded at him.

 

Oh god, his eyes widened as the realization that this was it hit him forcefully. For a moment he thought there might be a quite real possibility of him losing all control and hyperventilating. Instead he paused for a moment, picturing Buffy’s face in his mind. The smile she’d had on it the last time he’d talked to her and followed the Warrior from the room.

 

Led into the room where Wesley had been preparing him earlier. Led past his father, his friends, his family that stood on the outskirts of the circle. Through a small opening in the circle of Warriors, a spot that Brendan stepped into, effectively sealing the circle as Connor proceeded into its center.

 

On the floor he could see four points and as Wesley had directed him earlier he moved to stand on the outside of the tip of the point that would normally be Buffy’s, the one across from Damon who he directed a discreet nod to before returning his attention to Wesley who was at the center of the circle.

 

Connor pointedly tried to ignore the other empty spot, the one across from Jade that should be filled by Colin and he felt a sharp pang at the thought that he hadn’t even given the fallen male a single thought as they had prepared.

 

“We are Indaran,” Wesley began, his voice ringing clear through the room. Connor felt a tingle along his skin and he realized abruptly that the witches in the outer circle had sealed that circle. “We fight in the name of light, we are fifty strong although one has fallen and one is taken. We implore the powers to grant us access to that which may bind blood to blood.”

 

“He is blood of our own, blood of she who is Warrior, of she who is bondmate, sister, daughter, friend,” the Watcher continued, as Connor watched his eyes flicked between those who held positions of honor within his Warriors life. Angel, Dawn, Xander, Willow, Giles, even Cordy and Spike were included before his eyes landed and stayed on the youth. “She is mother to one, he that offers to fight in her steed while she is unable to carry out her duties.”

 

“The powers hear your request and grant you access to continue,” Whistler stated from his position behind Jade, Connor almost turned in surprise at the sound of his voice, the half-demon had not been there when he had entered the room… he was sure of that. But Wesley’s eyes were still fastened on him, and as the teen watched, unable to draw his eyes from the Watcher, they took on an almost iridescent glow of pure white light.

 

“He who wishes to take this honor step forward, and take your place among us,” Wesley’s voice rumbled, a resonance that he’d never heard from the other man and Connor knew, knew that whoever was speaking now it was certainly not the Watcher.

 

But still he stepped forward, as he stepped into position, his feet settling on the point where his mother had once stood he felt power race through him, around him and he almost fell to his knees… to those outside the circle he looked peaceful though and through no thought of his own he felt his eyes raise to the ceiling as emotions that were not his own raced through his mind.

 

Joy, sorrow, pain… his mother was in agony, his eyes flew to Damon’s unable to understand why the others weren’t on their knees screaming with her in her agony.

 

Block it out, Jade’s voice rang through his head and he drew a deep shuddering breath as he remembered that which Jade had taught him and slammed a wall, thin at the moment because he hadn’t had much time to construct it and he felt the pain fade away… although if he reached for it he knew it would be there.

 

With a flash of brilliant light, the white light that had infused Wesley vanished and the Watcher sank drained to his knees. Across from him Damon’s eyes were still locked on Connor’s.

 

“It’s done.”

 

 

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The pain was gone.

 

He knew he hadn’t healed all the way through, knew that if he lifted the blood stained shirt that he was currently wearing he would still see open wounds and he had figured out nearly two weeks earlier why his captors put him back in his blood stained clothing when they were finished ‘operating’ on him.

 

He knew they hoped that the smell of blood would entice his wolf self to break through his control.

 

But he had control over the wolf now, they had come to an understanding and the wolf only came forward when it knew that Oz couldn’t handle what was happening… and even then he didn’t fully shift, just a semi-shift to show that they were one, that they were the same.

 

He and the wolf were both furious right now, plus the wolf was nearly howling in frustration as they hovered over the body of their still companion. The wolf could smell the blood staining the small blonde’s clothing; the blood that should be enticing the wolf to attack, to devour, to strike the killing blow.

 

The female was injured, unconscious… even though her wounds were healing the horror that she had been through was extreme and it would take at least a day for them all to heal.

 

It would be a mercy to put her out of her misery the wolf thought.

 

But the wolf also knew he couldn’t do that, hence the frustration. They both shared the same memories of home… that of the Hellmouth where the wolf had been born, where they had been loved and cherished until their mistake.

 

And both knew now that Veruca had been a mistake, although the wolf had only had the best of intentions.

 

It was in his nature to seek out one of his own, to mate, to hunt with someone who wouldn’t fear him. Oz had been scared of hurting the little Witch, the one that he’d chosen as mate so the Wolf had offered him someone else. And they’d lost both.

 

The Wolf had howled in fury as his human counterpart had walked away. Veruca was dead, they had killed her to save Willow, there was no reason to leave. But they had, Oz hoping to garner some semblance of control over the wolf within him.

 

The control that they had found had them rejoicing… until they had returned home and lost it again.

 

Willow had been the catalyst for that, the scent of her on another enough to cause the wolf to rise in fury and anger within him. So he’d once more left, talking about Tibet and seeking more control.

 

In reality he’d not needed to leave, he had control over the wolf, but he knew that control would waver whenever he saw her in the others arms… so he’d left once more. Gone to Oregon, settled into a small pack there and tried to move on with his life like she had.

 

But he hadn’t been able to. He wondered how it had been so easy for her to find someone to replace him and he couldn’t find anyone to replace her.

 

Kneeling over the fallen female as he heard the door open he allowed the wolf to rise to surface within him, his features shifting as the wolf pushed to dominate fully and Oz refused it… not with Buffy injured.

 

Snarling he saw the familiar brunette vampiress enter the room. Neither the Wolf nor Oz understood what Druscilla’s game was. They’d heard her ranting in fury when Buffy had been brought into the cell he’d been occupying.

 

“None of that now my little wolf,” Dru shook her finger at him as if he was in insolent child as she floated into the room. The door shut behind her and she stood there for a moment nostrils flaring as she scented the blood within the room. Kneeling lower he prepared to leap at her, to attack… she could only be here to hurt him, to hurt Buffy.

 

His shock registered on his features as instead of attacking her face distorted into one of anger.

 

Wha…?” he started as the brunette snarled turning to glare at the door.

 

“They hurt her… that wasn’t part of our agreement,” Dru muttered her eyes narrowing as she moved closer.

 

“Don’t…” Oz warned her as he stood between the two women. “I won’t let you take her.”

 

“Take her? Silly boy,” Dru smiled suddenly her expression changing from anger to one of humor in a split second. “Why would I want to take mummy? I’m the one who’s going to save her after all… and you if you want to be saved.”

 

 

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