1.2: Pick Up the Pieces

[Connor Reilly]

Angel paused before he answered, saying Wesley had been fighting Cyvus Vail. Connor frowned. He had mixed feelings about Vail. He had put him with his parents - his civilian parents. But, he also used that against him and Angel the first chance he got, so it wasn't like the guy tossed Connor into his life out of the goodness of his heart. If it hadn't been for Angel, Connor would probably be dead along with a lot of other people.

The fact that Vail had defeated Wesley in battle wasn't surprising. Wesley had never been the best fighter. Determined, sure, but not as skilled as the others. He knew a thing or two about magic, but nothing compared to what Vail knew. Connor couldn't help but wonder how that face-off had come about. Whose idea had it been?

Angel and Wesley haven't exactly been friends...

Connor didn't entertain the thought. He refused to. But, it was there, all the same. A part of him believed Wesley's death had been Angel's doing, indirectly. The part of him he wasn't as familiar with as he knew he should have been. The rest of him overrode that part and decided the only one to blame for Wesley's death was Cyvus Vail.

"Illyria?" he asked. "Illyria was there and he still died?"

He was baffled for a moment. Illyria was the strongest of all of them. Connor had a hard time believing that there was much in this dimension she couldn't defeat.

[Angel]

Connor seemed surprised that Wesley had still died with Illyria present. Angel guessed he could've been clearer about the specifics. He shook his head.

"Illyria had her own target," he said. "She went to back up Wesley after she'd killed him. She just showed up a little late."

Angel looked down at the glass of vodka beside him and stood, picking up the glass.

"Gunn killed his target, but he was wounded," he continued. "He's at the hospital, stable."

He looked down at his glass, swirling the liquid around, debating whether or not he still wanted the drink. He decided he didn't and started to walk over to the kitchen area while he continued.

"Lorne and Lindsey - a lawyer at Wolfram and Hart - they went after their target together... They're both gone."

Angel didn't know for sure what had happened with Lorne and Lindsey, but the plan had been for Lorne to kill Lindsey once they defeated the Sahvrin clan. He hadn't heard back from either of them, so he assumed at least Lindsey was dead. He didn't know what had happened to Lorne.

[Connor Reilly]

Angel explained that Illyria had only gone to check on Wesley after she'd taken care of her own opponent. Connor nodded. That made sense. He watched Angel pick up a glass from the table and wrinkled his brows. Angel normally didn't drink much aside from blood. Connor studied him as he explained Gunn had been wounded. Connor was relieved that he was in the hospital rather than a body bag.

Connor stood up as Angel walked over to the kitchen. He wandered over to stand a few feet away, folding his arms across his chest. He narrowed his eyes at Angel's back when he said Lindsey and Lorne were both "gone." What the hell did that mean? Were they dead? Had they left L.A.?

He doesn't know.

The thought came from that far corner of his mind, but he realized it was probably true once he thought about it. He sighed as he processed this information. He vaguely remembered Lindsey and didn't really care what had happened to him, but he'd always liked Lorne. He hoped he hadn't died in a bloody battle.

"What about Spike and Illyria? What happened to them?"

He shook his bangs out of his eyes and looked up at Angel, wondering how many allies the guy actually had left.

[Angel]

Angel approached the sink and poured the vodka down the drain. He didn't normally drink and when he did he drank alone. It wasn't a social activity for him and he didn't like to over-indulge as he had when he was a man. But it quieted his mind and relaxed him when he was feeling overwhelmed.

He rinsed out the glass and set it on the counter before turning around to answer Connor's question.

"Uh, let's see. After the battle we sort of split up. I rushed Gunn to the hospital. Spike and Illyria tried to track down some of the army. I guess that's what they're still doing."

At least, he hoped that was what they were doing. He wasn't too worried about Illyria getting killed with her resilience. Spike had already died once and that didn't seem to have slowed him down. Still, there was no telling what the Senior Partners had pulled out of their hat. They could've been up against anything.

Angel sighed and leaned against the counter, thinking of any other relevant things Connor should be aware of.

"Illyria took out Vail, so the Circle of the Black Thorn's been completely destroyed. They might still have their followers, but the big players are out," he said. "Wolfram and Hart, as you can see, is no longer functioning. So, I guess that's something. But, now there's the problem of the giant demon army wreaking havoc on the city."

He shrugged and folded his arms across his chest, hoping Connor wouldn't ask what the next plan of attack was. Because Angel had absolutely no idea, and he was severely lacking in resources.

[Connor Reilly]

Connor watched Angel rinse out his glass. Had he decided not to drink because Connor was there? He wouldn't have cared. Hell, he wouldn't have blamed the guy if he'd been getting tanked the past few nights, considering.

Angel explained that everyone had sort of split up after the battle. Angel took Gunn to the hospital and Spike and Illyria went out on their own to keep fighting. That sounded about right. Connor wasn't particularly worried about Spike and Illyria until Angel implied that he hadn't heard from them since they'd parted ways.

Maybe Connor wasn't the only one in the dark.

Angel continued, saying they'd managed to take out the Circle of the Black Thorn, which as far as Connor understood, were the guys doing all the dirty work for the Senior Partners. He straightened slightly. Well, that was a good thing. Wasn't that what Angel had been trying to do for years? Take down the Senior Partners and stop Wolfram & Hart?

"Well, that's good, right?" he said. "You got rid of the circle, crippled the Senior Partners, wiped out the building, for the most part. That's progress."

He stroked his chin thoughtfully.

"So, that just leaves the demon army. Awesome."

He scratched his head, again being made aware of its messy state. He made an attempt to flatten it out.

"Just to give me an idea of what we're dealing with, how massive an army are we talking about?"

His tone was light, but he was serious about the question. An army of one-hundred was different than an army of thousands.

[Angel]

Angel blinked in surprise when Connor pointed out all that had been accomplished: bringing down the Circle of the Black Thorn, "crippling the senior partners," as he put it, and destroying the Wolfram & Hart building. Angel hadn't actually thought about that. He'd been too busy focusing on what had gone wrong. They'd lost Wesley, Gunn was hurt, and Los Angeles was being overrun by demons.

But, it hadn't been in vein. It was strange. He'd spent so long going after Wolfram & Hart, trying to accomplish the very thing he and his team had managed to do. But when it actually happened he hadn't even realized what it meant. It was even stranger that Connor, of all people, was the one to make him realize.

Angel gave a small smile when Connor commented they were just left with the demon army. His tone was almost joking, but Angel knew him well enough to know it was a factor he was actually considering. The smile faded when Connor asked his next question. It wasn't the question that bothered Angel, it was how he'd phrased it. He'd used the word "we." Twice. What we're dealing with. How massive an army are we talking about. Angel didn't like the sound of that.

"Listen, Connor..."

Angel paused, letting out a sigh. Again, he wanted to be careful of what he said and how he said it.

"I appreciate what you've done," he said. "Jumping into the fight with Hamilton, that really helped me out. I'm not sure how that would've gone if I'd had to go up against him alone."

Actually, he was pretty sure he would've died long before he figured out how to defeat Hamilton if he'd had to go the whole fight solo. But, there was no need to point that out.

"But, it wasn't fair of me to ask you to help in the first place," he said.

He took a few steps toward Connor so they were standing face to face.

"I made my deal with Wolfram and Hart for a reason, and I don't regret it for a second. You didn't deserve the hand you were dealt, and I was happy to give you a good life with good people. A more normal life than I could ever provide."

He sighed. This next part was going to be hard to hear, no matter how he said it.

"I appreciate what you're doing, Connor. And I understand you want to help... but, this isn't your fight."

It hurt Angel just to say that. He felt his stomach tighten into a knot and his voice was tight with emotion as he continued.

"I'm the one who started it, and I need to finish it. You need to go back to your family - your real family. Live the life you deserve to live. You don't have to clean up my mess, and you don't owe me anything."

He wasn't sure if it was a good idea - in fact he knew it was probably a bad idea - but he chanced putting a hand on Connor's shoulder. The last thing he wanted to do was push his son away, but bringing him back into this life would only get him hurt. The only thing that was worse than pushing him away was getting him hurt or killed.

[Connor Reilly]

Connor was running through possibilities and strategies in his head. How the hell were they supposed to wrangle an entire city full of demons? They'd never been able to do it before. If they could have all of L.A.'s supernatural "crime sprees" would've been taken care of by now. If they could find Illyria she'd be a big help. But would she want to help was the question? She wasn't exactly a team player from what he remembered.

Then again, he hadn't exactly been a team player himself.

He turned his focus back to Angel when he spoke, saying he appreciated Connor helping him with Hamilton. Connor nodded casually. He already knew all that. Why was Angel even mentioning it?

Because there's a "but" coming you're not gonna like.

Before Connor could think about the validity of this thought Angel confirmed it, saying he shouldn't have asked Connor for help in the first place. Connor wrinkled his brows.

"Oh, yeah. 'Cause that fight would've gone really well if you hadn't."

His tone was matter-of-fact and slightly sarcastic, but there was no hostility in it. Hamilton had been a tough opponent, and it had taken a lot of effort from both Angel and Connor to beat him. Afterwards neither of them had come out unscathed. Connor's knee was still acting up and he was pretty sure he'd cracked a rib or something.

He listened while Angel continued, talking about the deal he'd made with Wolfram & Hart. Connor stared at Angel while he talked, studying his expression and mannerisms without being aware that was what he was doing. He somehow knew Angel was uncomfortable, maybe even a little nervous. The analysis and processing of that information occurred in the back of his head without much concentration. He was focusing on what Angel was saying because in the same way he'd known everything else he'd known throughout this conversation, he knew whatever Angel was telling him was important.

"I appreciate what you're doing, Connor. And I understand you want to help... but, this isn't your fight."

Bastard.

Connor felt a sudden flush of anger he couldn't quite place at first. He didn't try to place it. He felt hurt, angry, and defensive all at once, and it was overwhelming - more intense than it should have been, and that scared him.

All at once, he was flooded with memories: scenes playing out, images, faces. Being tied to a tree in a far away place while a man that was supposed to be his father left him there. Crouching beside the body of a dead girl who'd overdosed on what was probably heroin. Fighting countless demons, sometimes alone and sometimes with Angel by his side. Battling Faith. Making love to Cordelia. Killing Jasmine. They weren't new memories. He'd seen them all before. But he didn't revisit them often and there was a raw quality to them the rest of his memories lacked.

His gaze never left Angel's, but he could feel his chest heaving with every breath he took. His hands had balled themselves into fists and his teeth were clenched so tightly his jaw ached. He barely heard what Angel was saying. His mind zero'd in on certain phrases: I need to finish it. Your real family. You don't owe me anything.

For a moment Connor just stared at him, stunned. He hadn't come to Wolfram & Hart with any expectations, but if he had being blown off and turned away would not been high on his list. He felt Angel's hand on his shoulder and he just stood there, countless thoughts and feelings running through him. A part of him wanted to shove Angel away, punch him in the face, stab him - something.

He didn't do any of those things. Instead, he laughed. It stared with a sharp, incredulous exhale. Then a soft chuckle that gave way to borderline hysterical laughter that made his chest hurt - another sign he probably had some kind of rib injury. The sound escaping him sounded insane, even to him, but for the moment he didn't care. It was a much needed release of pent up emotion, and it was a hell of a lot better than punching Angel in the face.

He turned away and took a few steps into the living room as he collected himself, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair to get it out of his face. When he turned around to face Angel he still had a small smile on his face.

"You're kidding, right?" he asked. "'Go back to my real family.' Yeah. That's worked out really well."

His tone was sarcastic and carried just a hint of venom.

"Do you have any idea what it's like to find out your entire life's a lie? That you're really some psychotic superhero and the world's crawling with monsters you routinely kill? Do you know what it's like to fight a god damn demon like Sahjhan, live to talk about it... and then just go home?"

His voice had been rising steadily so by the time he got to the end of that sentence he was all out yelling. And he couldn't stop.

"How the hell was I supposed to think about school and internships once I'd done that?"

He started to pace slowly around the penthouse as he talked, unable to sit still.

"But I tried. I shoved all that supernatural crap aside and tried to just keep being normal. And I was doing pretty good, too."

He stopped pacing to shoot Angel a glare, looking him up and down. When he spoke there was bitterness and resentment in his voice he wasn't even aware he felt.

"Then you showed up. Just out of the blue like that, wanting to have coffee. Really? I knew you didn't just want to check up on me, see how I was adjusting. And I was right. The world was ending and you wanted my help."

He gave a short laugh with no real amusement in it.

"What was I supposed to do with that, huh? After I'd been trying so hard to avoid anything that had to do with the supernatural, to just live my life. There was no way I could keep doing that if I jumped into that fight. You just can't. It's one or the other, and I'd made my choice. No, you'd made it for me. So, what else was I supposed to do?"

He sighed, feeling frustrated and pissed off, taking a few seconds to breathe and collect himself. He hadn't intended to snap like that. He felt like a little boy throwing a tantrum. He pinched the bridge of his nose and massaged the area with his thumb and index fingers. This crap always gave him a headache.

He approached Angel again and stopped a few feet away from him. When he spoke his voice was soft and there was a slight quiver to it, leftover emotion tapering off.

"After you left I tried not to think about it. I tried to focus on school, the internship. Anything."

He shook his head.

"I couldn't do it. Knowing there was this big battle happening, the kind of thing that could change the world... I couldn't just sit at home and wait to see how it all turned out."

He shrugged.

"So, I went. And I fought. And when you sent me away afterwards I understood what you were trying to do. But the whole time I've been home I've just been waiting to hear how it turned out, trying to figure out what would happen next. I haven't been thinking about Stanford. Screw Stanford! I don't belong in a classroom and we both know that."

He took a few steps closer to Angel, confident now that he wouldn't take a swing at him. His voice was almost a whisper when he spoke again and he could feel tears stinging the back of his eyes. But they hadn't broken free yet, and he was holding them back successfully for now.

"I can't be what I am and live the life I'm living," he said. "At least, that can't be all my life is. I have to do this. After everything I know I've been through, the people we've lost, the things I've done... If you think this isn't my fight you're a moron or an asshole."

He turned around and headed into the living room, shoving his hands back in his pockets and gripping his car keys. He stopped and glanced over his shoulder.

"Besides, you need all the help you can get."

He walked swiftly to the elevator and pressed the call button.

[Angel]

Angel expected Connor to attack him. He'd seen him getting more and more upset with every word that came out of Angel's mouth. Touching Connor when he was mad was like sticking your hand in a bear trap. But, Angel couldn't help it. He didn't like seeing Connor upset and he needed to do something to comfort him.

He was relieved when Connor didn't lash out at him, but it also made him wary. No matter how different Connor may have been now that he had this new set of memories, some things didn't change. Something was coming. With the emotion Angel could see in Connor's demeanor something had to be coming. Except now he didn't know what it would be, and that made him nervous.

Angel stared in wide-eyed shock when Connor started laughing. He even backed up a few steps as Connor broke out into hysterical laughter. It was an odd response and it worried Angel a bit.

Once Connor composed himself and faced Angel again he found it a little unsettling that the boy was smiling. He vaguely wondered if something was wrong with him, but the thought faded quickly once Connor started talking. Despite the laughter, there was definitely anger and hostility in his voice. Okay, that was normal. He listened carefully to what Connor was saying.

"Do you have any idea what it's like to find out your entire life's a lie?"

Worry reared its ugly head again. He'd said something similar before, when he had a bomb strapped to a room full of innocent people. Hearing Connor refer to himself as psychotic didn't sit well with him either. He listened to Connor talk about trying to go back to his "normal" life after the very abnormal experiences he'd had. Angel wrinkled his forehead in concern, feeling a pang of guilt for not thinking of anything like that before. He'd never once considered the fact that maybe going back to his civilian life wasn't the best thing for Connor once he'd learned the truth.

He watched Connor pace the apartment, much like he himself had done moments ago. When Connor's gaze settled on Angel again there was so much resentment in his eyes, it was almost palpable. Fear crept up on Angel just for a moment. That look was one of the few things that could send a shiver down Angel's spine. It was pure hatred and he'd seen it a few times before. The fear diminished when Angel realized there was something else in Connor's eyes now. There was hatred, but not hatred alone.

As Connor went on to talk about how Angel had dragged him back into the thick of things after he'd tried so hard to be normal, Angel couldn't blame him for being resentful. Angel had pushed him away, only pulling him close when it was convenient, when he needed him for something.

He felt a wave of disgust wash over him as he wondered how many people had done the exact same thing to his son.

Connor paused to collect himself, his last statement still lingering in the air: What was I supposed to do?

"I'm sorry, Connor," Angel said.

He couldn't keep the shock from his voice.

"I didn't realize..."

He trailed off. He didn't realize what? That Connor wasn't normal - could never be normal? That juggling two sets of memories, two separate lives, wasn't that simple? He knew all that, better than anyone, maybe. He had to have known all of that. Saying he hadn't realized wasn't quite true, was it? Because he had realized. Somewhere in the back of his mind he had known. But he hadn't thought about it, hadn't dwelled on it. He'd had other things to worry about, things he'd deemed more important. So he'd shoved any thoughts of his son from his mind.

He realized now that had been a mistake.

Connor approached him and Angel had the fleeting thought that he was about to be punched in the face. But Connor spoke again and the anger seemed to have died down. His tone was more matter-of-fact and he said he understood why Angel had sent him away after the fight with Hamilton. Although now Angel was questioning his own motives. Had he really sent him home to keep him safe? Or was it just easier for him to push him away, to make his life less complicated by removing a variable?

Angel bowed his head when Connor proclaimed that his place wasn't in a classroom, nor had it ever been. Angel disagreed, but he understood what Connor meant. Angel didn't regret the life he'd given Connor. He still believed it had been the best thing for him, and looking at him now he knew Connor was a better man because of it. But he did regret so selfishly cutting him off from his roots when he should have kept in touch with him and explained things. He should've been a father.

When Connor reminded Angel that this was, in fact, his fight, he couldn't help but feel a little proud. Maybe he shouldn't have. It wasn't exactly normal for a father to want his son to have a desire to fight. Then again, they weren't normal. And Connor had the kind of determination and fire that could drive him to do great things. But those qualities could also drive him to do horrendous things if he didn't have the right guidance.

Angel was very much humbled when Connor turned to leave. Connor had ranted and raved at him before, but it had never carried the same weight it had tonight. Those had been the misguided tantrums of a confused kid. This had been different. This had been a lecture from a well informed young man.

He heard the elevator and thought about stopping Connor, but he had no idea what to do or say. He had no reason to keep him there, other than to apologize. But with the amount of guilt he was feeling and the amount of pain he'd seen in his son, a simple apology wasn't going to cut it. He needed to process everything and think about his next move, and he guessed Connor needed to do the same.