1.3: Rebuilding

[Connor Reilly]

After his visit to Wolfram & Hart, Connor was feeling angry, confused, and a little embarrassed. It wasn't like him to flip out like that. He never would have yelled at his parents like that - his human parents. It felt unnatural to him now that he thought about it, but at the time it hadn't felt that way. It had been familiar, even. He had several memories of having similar outbursts, but that life seemed so far away from his. It was almost like looking in on an entirely different person.

He'd been grateful Angel hadn't stopped him from leaving. The tears had started the second he stepped into the elevator. He cried the whole way down to Angel's office. By the time he made his way through the rubble of Wolfram & Hart he'd managed to pull himself together. He'd gotten into his car and started driving. He didn't have any destination in mind and he didn't pay attention to where he was going. He just drove.

He thought about a lot of things at first: Angel, Holtz, Quar-Toth, Cordelia. But thinking about that other life too much made him anxious, so he'd forced those thoughts out of his mind. For a good portion of the drive he cranked the radio and focused on not thinking.

Somehow, he ended up at the Hyperion Hotel. He recognized it as he pulled up to its entrance and for a moment he was baffled. But, in a way, it made sense for him to have ended up there. He didn't want to go home, but he needed to go somewhere. He wanted to be alone and calm down, think through what he'd do next. Maybe get some sleep.

Connor pulled into the parking lot and sat with the engine idling for a long moment. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted to go in. The place had been abandoned. What if there were... occupants?

Kill them.

Connor blinked, surprised at himself for thinking it, but once he took a second to consider it, he had to admit it made sense. He was strong and he'd taken on a lot of things and survived. It wouldn't be too hard to take out a few demons. Connor shut off the engine and got out of the car, pocketing his keys.

-+-

He entered the hotel through a first floor window. He'd tried the door and hadn't been surprised when it was locked. He'd gone around to the side of the building where he knew there was another way in. He'd made it himself so he could come and go as he pleased without being noticed.

There were a few windows that were boarded up for various reasons. Parts of the hotel were a little more weathered than others. But there was one window that was sort of a decoy. There was a board placed over it, but the window itself wasn't broken and the board wasn't actually nailed into place. It was sitting on top of two carefully positioned nails and leaning against the window.

Connor found the right board easily and removed it, setting it down on the ground and leaning it against the side of the building. He slid his fingers through the small crack between the window and the sill and slid the window open. Climbing through felt easier than it should have been. He must've done this hundreds of times, but it still felt very new to him. Breaking and entering wasn't really something he penciled into his day planner.

Once he was inside he leaned out the window to grab the board and replace it. It took him a couple of tries before he got it to stay put. Then he made his way through the room, moving slowly and somehow managing to make it to the door without bumping into anything. He felt around for the doorknob, but just as his fingers found it he stopped.

Grab a weapon.

Oh. Right. He forgot the possibility that he wasn't the only one skulking around the hotel. He'd also momentarily forgotten that there were weapons in this room. He felt along the wall until he found the light switch.

Oh, sure. Announce your presence with a homing beacon.

He withdrew his hand. It was weird how these things occurred to him now. A few months ago he never would have thought to grab a weapon for any reason, or to break into a building. He also wouldn't have had fleeting thoughts of decapitating people who annoyed him.

One thing he had to admit to his psychotic self: he had damn good instincts.

Connor moved through the room cautiously, not entirely used to fumbling around in the dark. Yet, somehow, it came easily. He navigated the room without bumping into anything or making any noise. He found the nightstand by the bed and pulled open the drawer, taking out a Bible. He opened it to find a vial of holy water hidden in expertly hollowed pages. He took it and slid it into the pocket of his pajama pants. He found a dagger taped to the underside of a table. It was sheathed, so he tucked it into the back waistband of his pants.

Figuring he wouldn't be able to conceal much else, Connor went to the door again and quietly pulled it open. This time there was no protest from the back of his mind. Quietly, he wandered through the hotel, exploring the new, but familiar building he'd once called home.

[Angel]

When Connor left Angel back at his penthouse, he'd been relieved at first. They'd had a difficult conversation and Angel hadn't quite known what to say or do afterwards. Once Connor was gone, Angel had poured himself a glass of vodka and sat down to drink it. He'd had a little time to dissect the scene that had just unfolded, to analyze Connor's words and behavior.

He'd been aware that Connor was a different kid with a different life. When he'd first had his memories restored, Angel had worried about how Connor would cope with the knowledge. He'd seemed to be doing just fine, but after that conversation at Wolfram & Hart, Angel grew concerned for his son. When Angel had met Connor for the second time he had been mentally unstable, broken, really. After a childhood full of abuse and violence, Connor had become a very disturbed young man. Angel had assumed that just because Connor had a normal, well-balanced childhood mixed in with the old one he'd be okay.

As Angel polished off his vodka, he'd realized maybe Connor wasn't okay. At least, maybe he wouldn't be okay for long the way he was going. He needed support and guidance from people who knew about his past. The fact that Connor's first reactions to feeling upset were to lash out and run away made Angel nervous. Granted, "lashing out" in this case had meant giving Angel a peace of his mind, but Angel knew Connor was capable of doing some real damage to somebody. He had to find him and make sure he was coping okay.

The problem with Connor being a new man in a sense was that Angel wasn't as familiar with his patterns as he once had been. He wasn't sure where to begin to look for Connor. He started out prowling around the area, hoping Connor had been on foot. If that were the case, he wouldn't have gotten far before Angel caught up to him.

Unfortunately, Angel had no luck finding any trace of Connor, which had to mean he had a vehicle of some kind. That left him wandering the city aimlessly. The first place he thought to visit was the Stanford University campus, but he had no idea if Connor was still going to school there. He'd said something about not belonging in a classroom. He decided to try his family's house first, his new family. He didn't want to knock on the door and freak them out, so he opted to lurk around outside and watch and listen for any sign of Connor. There was no noise or movement from the home, but if he listened closely, he could hear the faint sound of three heartbeats, slow and rhythmic. Two of those would be his parents'. He had mentioned a sister once. The third had to belong to her.

As Angel traveled quickly to the Stanford campus, he was racking his brain trying to figure out where to go. The campus was mostly quiet. There were a few parties going on in some of the housing areas, but he didn't think Connor would want to be around a lot of people. He tended to isolate himself when he was upset - a trait he'd probably gotten from Angel. It was that thought that made him start thinking about the traits he'd recognized in Connor rather than those that were different.

He was still stubborn and introverted. He still had a tendency to lash out and isolate himself. He had distanced himself from his new life and expressed more of an interest in his old life. Maybe Angel was looking for Connor in the wrong places.

Angel headed to the Hyperion. Along the way, he checked a few streets Connor had favored when he patrolled. By the time he got to the hotel his nerves were frayed. This was the first home Connor had ever had. It was also the last place Angel could think of to check. If Connor wasn't here, Angel didn't know where else to find him.

Taking a set of keys out of his pocket, Angel approached the front entrance of the hotel. He took a moment to collect himself before he unlocked the door and ventured inside. It only took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the darkness inside. He closed the door quietly behind him and started walking around the lobby. It seemed like it had been so long since he'd spent time at the Hyperion, even though it had only been a blink of an eye in the life of a vampire.

[Connor Reilly]

Connor walked down a long hallway. There was a slight musty smell his mother wouldn't have liked. Or maybe his birth mother would have liked it. He didn't know much about what vampires liked. At one point he'd considered himself very well schooled in that arena. Now he wasn't so sure.

The building's atmosphere was interesting. It had the style of something out of an old movie, but it was rundown, worn out. It was something that had once been glamorous until it had been forgotten. He had so many memories of this place. They made his life now seem like a dream.

In a way, maybe it was.

Connor approached the top of the staircase that would lead into the main lobby. It was a strange feeling, to explore a new place that wasn't really new. He knew these stairs would take him to the lobby, but at the same time he was cautious, hesitant. He wouldn't really know for sure until he saw it for himself in the present.

Halfway down the stairs he could see the shapes of furniture in the darkness. There was a couch, or something like a couch, and a desk. His mind filled in the information about the room he couldn't see. He was aware that this probably should have given him confidence, but it only made him more wary. He descended the rest of the way down the staircase with slow, careful steps until he reached the floor below.

The musty smell wasn't as strong in the lobby. Connor felt alert, trying to take in any information he could as he moved through the room. He also felt surprisingly comfortable. He could navigate this room just as easily as he'd been able to navigate the motel room upstairs. He knew this hotel better than he knew his own home.

He approached a desk to his right and ran a hand along the top. A layer of dust had gathered there. He wondered how long it had been since anyone had been inside this building. He walked around to the other side of the desk and sat down in the dusty swivel chair. He sat there for a moment, swiveling slowly back and forth in the chair. There had been a computer here at one point. He leaned forward to pull open a drawer. Something rattled inside and he reached a hand in. He pulled out a pen and twirled it around in his fingers. He closed the drawer and went to open another when a noise made him stop. It was a rattling sound coming from somewhere off to the left. He couldn't pinpoint what it was.

Connor stood quickly and backed up until his back hit the wall behind him. He would be well hidden in the desk's alcove if he stayed still. He reached into the back of his pajama pants and took the dagger out of his waistband. He held it at his side and swallowed, feeling his heart beat a little faster.

[Angel]

Angel looked around the room as his eyes adjusted. His vision was keener than the average person's, particularly in the dark. He pocketed his keys as he walked slowly around the lobby, running a hand along the couch. The whole place smelled like dust and mold. Maybe it had always smelled like that and he'd simply gotten used to it over time.

He took a few moments to indulge his nostalgia, walking leisurely through the lobby and taking in all its details. He remembered when he'd first visited the hotel sometime in the 1950s. It was amazing that he couldn't recall the exact year. They all blended together after a while. He'd lived in the Hyperion for a time, and it became one of the first true homes he'd known as a vampire.

Angel made a circle around the room, pausing in front of the desk. Something about it had caught his eye. He wasn't sure what at first. It was disused and dusty like everything else.

Almost immediately he noticed the hand print. Someone had dragged their fingers through the dust recently. He tensed.

"Is somebody here?" he called.

He stood still and listened, waiting for a response.

[Connor Reilly]

Connor stood as still as he could with his back against the wall. He tried to breath slowly and steadily, but that wasn't easy when a slight panic was rising in him.

Relax. Whatever it is, you can kick its ass, he assured himself.

His heartbeat sped up as quiet footsteps got closer and then further away. He caught a glimpse of a figure moving slowly through the lobby, but it was too far away for him to identify who or what it was. He didn't dare move from his position, not wanting to give himself away. He just focused on staying calm, listening, and watching.

Connor held his breath when the figure approached the desk. He couldn't make out specific features in the dark, but he decided it had to be a man judging by the build. He frowned as the man stood there for a moment and wondered if he'd been spotted. His grip tightened around the handle of his dagger.

"Is somebody here?"

Angel.

Connor rolled his eyes and let out his breath in a sigh. He was partly relieved that it was Angel and not some wayward demon he'd have to kill, but he was also a little annoyed for some reason he couldn't readily identify.

Connor tucked the dagger into the back waistband of his pants and stepped toward the desk until he was standing in front of the figure he now knew was Angel.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

[Angel]

Angel listened for a few seconds, his senses alert. His eyes focused on a figure coming toward him from the shadows. He could tell by the voice it was Connor, but he could've guessed by his build and the way he moved. Angel was flooded with relief. He'd found him.

"I was looking for you," Angel said.

There was a hint of surprise in his voice. What else would he be doing?

Angel moved toward the wall near the door and flipped a switch. The room was bathed in soft light. He was thankful he'd kept up the utility bills on this place after they'd moved to Wolfram & Hart. A part of him had always figured they'd return.

He walked back over to the desk to look at Connor, now that they could see each other clearly.

"Connor... are you okay?" he asked simply.

He furrowed his brows in concern. After their conversation back at the penthouse he'd started to wonder how much he didn't know about his son.

[Connor Reilly]

Connor folded his arms across his chest when Angel said he'd gone there looking for him. He was a little surprised at that. He'd just flipped out at the guy and stormed off. Who would want to come after him?

He blinked as the lights came on, squinting for a few seconds while his eyes got used to it. He studied Angel when he returned, noting the look of concern on his face. He asked Connor if he was okay.

Connor shrugged and looked down at his slippers. He actually wasn't sure what the honest answer to that question was. If Angel meant was he okay enough to talk without yelling and screaming, then he was okay. But, if this was a bigger question about life and his mind and all that, he really wasn't sure what to say.

"I'm fine," he said.

He looked back up at Angel and put his hands in his pockets, trying to appear a little less tense.

[Angel]

Angel frowned. He didn't like the word fine. He used it himself when he wasn't okay, but didn't want to be bothered by concerned friends. Connor also didn't look him in the eye when he answered. He couldn't remember a single time that Connor had spoken to him without looking him dead in the eye. Even when he had lied he'd always managed to look him in the eye while he did it.

"I don't believe you," Angel said.

He studied Connor, still in his pajamas and slippers. He hadn't gone home to change.

"Why don't we sit down and talk?" Angel suggested. "We probably have a lot to talk about."

He nodded toward the red couch behind him. He wanted to explain a few things to Connor: why he hadn't been more proactive in keeping tabs on him, for one. But he also wanted to ask him some things about his new life and how he was adjusting.

[Connor Reilly]

Connor stared at Angel. Of course he didn't believe him. Connor didn't even believe it himself. Angel suggested they sit down and talk. Oh, yeah. This was going to be a fun conversation.

"Like what?" he asked.

He stepped out from behind the desk and leaned against the front end, not quite sitting. He figured Angel would want to lecture him about his little tantrum back at the apartment, but he was curious to know what he wanted to have an actual conversation about. Did he have things he wanted to tell Connor? He was so out of the loop there had to be a lot of things he didn't know about.

[Angel]

Angel watched Connor come around to the front of the desk and lean against it. He took a few steps to his left so they could talk face-to-face.

"Oh, I dunno," Angel replied. "Your life, how you're adjusting. That'd be a good start."

He folded his arms across his chest, hoping this conversation would go better than the last one.

"I know I haven't exactly been... easy to get a hold of," he said. "I took a back seat in your life, and I had my reasons for that. But, maybe it wasn't the best way to handle the situation. I should have checked in more, made sure you were doing okay. Especially after the fight with Sahjhan, and after the fight with Hamilton."

He sighed and shrugged, letting his arms fall to his sides.

"I guess I just got too used to not being a part of your life. I took it for granted that you had other people looking out for you. I didn't realize it would be so difficult for you to go back to that life."

Angel spoke from the heart, or maybe the soul considering his heart wasn't really functional. He'd always wanted what was best for Connor, but maybe he'd been a little misguided. He wanted Connor to know that he was here, that he could be a part of his life if he needed him. He just hoped it wasn't too late.

[Connor Reilly]

Connor studied Angel's body language as he spoke. He seemed calm, but kind of nervous. Maybe Connor had worried him more than he'd realized.

Angel wanted to talk about Connor's life, how he was "adjusting." Connor gave a short laugh at that.

"So now you want to know how I'm doing," he said.

He didn't mean to sound so sarcastic and over-dramatic, but really after all this time Angel was suddenly taking an interest. And that was only because Connor had probably scared him with that outburst before. If he hadn't taken the initiative and gone to Wolfram & Hart in the first place, he was pretty sure Angel wouldn't have even contacted him. He couldn't help but feel a little irritated.

Angel went on to apologize for being M.I.A., basically. He was a little more long-winded than that, but that was the gist. Connor shook his bangs out of his eyes and sighed.

"It wasn't all you," he said. "I kind of pushed you away, too."

He shrugged.

"I guess I didn't know I'd have trouble adjusting either."

Connor raked a hand through his hair and walked over to the plush red couch. He smacked a cushion with his hand and watched a cloud of dust fly up out of it.

"Good thing I don't have asthma or anything," he muttered.

He smirked at Angel and flopped down on the couch, resting his hand on an arm.

[Angel]

Angel couldn't blame Connor for feeling skeptical, or even resentful toward Angel. In a way, Angel had abandoned him, regardless of his motives for doing so. Angel recognized that now.

When Connor said he'd had a part in their estrangement Angel felt a pang of guilt. The fact that Connor was taking responsibility for Angel's actions made him feel even worse.

Angel followed Connor over to the couch. He smiled when Connor made a comment about the dust.

"The maid's been on vacation," he said dryly.

He waited for Connor to get situated before he sat down beside him.

"Connor, I want you to understand something," he said. "This... thing, whatever's happening in your head right now, it isn't your fault. You were given new memories, and that was my call. Now that you have both sets of memories, there are bound to be some complications.It was careless of me not to anticipate that, and I'm sorry I didn't."

Angel shifted his position so that he was facing Connor as much as he could. He rested his hands in his lap.

"I'm not trying to cut you off from this part of your life," he said. "I just want you to be safe and happy. I guess I thought staying with the Reillys was the best thing for you."

He shrugged, aware that he was sort of rambling. He didn't want Connor to misunderstand his intentions, nor did he want to upset him further. He may not have been able to fix the demon army running around L.A., but he could try to fix his relationship with Connor.

[Connor Reilly]

Connor smirked when Angel made a crack about the maid being on vacation. Angel sat down and started talking. Connor listened carefully. He said whatever was happening to Connor wasn't his fault, that there were bound to be complications from having two sets of memories. Connor appreciated that Angel was trying to reassure him, but he was still responsible for his own actions.

"I'm not trying to cut you off from this part of your life," he said. "I just want you to be safe and happy. I guess I thought staying with the Reillys was the best thing for you."

Connor nodded in understanding. He could see where Angel was coming from. Before he'd gotten his old memories back he wouldn't have wanted Angel poking around in his life, dragging all kinds of supernatural stuff into it. Even after he'd first received those memories he'd tried to distance himself from that part of his life. He'd thought being normal was the best thing for him, too. He sighed and shrugged.

"So, what happens now?" he asked. "Am I supposed to just go home and pretend all that crazy stuff I remember never happened? Or am I helping you get rid of this demon army?"

Really, that was all Connor wanted to talk about right now: their next move, his next move. He didn't want to try to think beyond one step ahead. How could he when he didn't know which path he was heading down?

[Angel]

Angel looked down at his lap, wondering what his son was thinking. He couldn't imagine what it was like in Connor's head right now, and part of him didn't want to. He couldn't help wondering if every move he'd made to try to protect Connor had been a horrible mistake.

When Connor asked what happened next, Angel shrugged. He didn't know the right answer to that. He was beginning to think he didn't know anything, despite having over two-hundred years of knowledge and experience to guide him.

"I guess that's up to you," Angel said. "I can't tell you how to live your life, as much as I might want to sometimes."

He gave a small smile and shrugged.

"Obviously, I'd rather not put you in a position where you're going to be fighting all the time and getting hurt," he said. "But, if that's what you want to do, I can't stop you. If you want to go back home, that's understandable. But, whatever you decide, I'll do my best to support you."

He hoped Connor understood that he hadn't meant to abandon him in the first place, and he had no intentions of doing it again.

[Faith Lehane]

Despite Faith's suspicion toward that Whistler guy, she'd had a weird feeling in the pit of her stomach since he paid her a visit in Boston. When she'd tried to call Wolfram & Hart she'd gotten a message that the number had been disconnected or was no longer in service. She'd tried calling Wesley and gotten his voice mail. After a few hours of tossing and turning, Faith booked a red-eye flight to Los Angeles. She'd been getting bored of Boston, anyway.

Faith tried calling Wolfram & Hart again from the airport, this time calling Angel's office rather than the front desk. She still got that same message and it made her stomach drop. What if something had happened?

She tried to tell herself not to get all worked up about anything until she had solid proof. She grabbed her one bag from baggage claim and headed out to hail the first cab she could get. She intended to get dropped off at the nearest cheap motel, but she told the cab driver to take her to Wolfram & Hart. This earned her a weird look from the guy, since it was around three in the morning, but he didn't give her any attitude.

The driver's muttered curse of surprise made Faith lean forward in the back seat to look through the windshield as they pulled up to Wolfram & Hart.

"Oh, you gotta be kidding me," she muttered.

The building was half gone and what was left looked like it was falling apart.

"What the hell happened here?" she asked.

She hoped the driver could give her at least some information, but he shrugged and shook his head, looking baffled.

"I got no idea," he said. "I just dropped a lawyer type here the other day. It didn't look nothin' like this."

Faith sighed and sat back in the seat, her mind working rapidly. Okay, so Wolfram & Hart was gone. Maybe that was a good thing. Angel had been battling it out with that place since he got to the city, right? So, where else would they all have gone?

"Alright, take me to the Hyperion Hotel," she said.

"Uh, you know that place is non-operational, right?" the driver asked. "It's been in disrepair for years."

Faith rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, whatever. Just drive, unless you don't wanna get paid."

The guy muttered something and did as he was told.

-+-

Faith paid the driver and got her bag out of the back seat before approaching the Hyperion Hotel. This building didn't look any different from the way she remembered it. She wasn't sure if that was a good sign, since it probably meant no one had been around.

Even though she figured the place was locked up, Faith tried the front door. She was surprised when it opened. Maybe she'd been wrong to assume no one was around, but it was also possible that the hotel was inhabited by unfriendly squatters.

"And me without my weapons," she muttered.

She wished she'd thought to stock up before she went exploring. Faith shoved open the door and took a few cautious steps inside. The lobby lights were on. Letting her eyes scan the room, it only took her a second to zero in on the two guys sitting on the couch.

"Hey, look who's alive," she said.

She walked quickly across the room and stood in front of the couch. She studied Connor and raised an eyebrow. Was he wearing pajamas?

"Nice threads, kiddo," she said. "You forget to invite me to the slumber party?"

Faith stood there for a moment, looking from Connor to Angel. She was still trying to piece together what had happened, but she was glad to see these two were still in one piece.