Wild Days

Giles:

Walking down the stairs in the light of the morning, I fell almost lighthearted. It's always been that way for me. Mornings are just like births, new beginnings. Everything seems clean and fresh - as if past evil never existed. Maybe that's what let me go on so far, what made me keep my head up and not despair at the amount of evil I've encountered - sometimes even created. The knowledge that whatever bad happens, there's always going to be another morning.

But the moment I step into the grand hall of the hotel my lightheartedness vanishes as if it's never been there. I see Wesley standing at the counter, Fred sitting at the computer behind it, but it is Connor who is catching my attention. He sits in the middle of the hall on one of the stuffed, red sofas surrounding the central pillar, pretending not to be interested at all, his gaze directed towards his toes, I can still see him glancing up at the other people in the room, who do their best to ignore his presence. There is a tension in the room that's almost palpable, and it's not pleasant.

Wesley is neutral, even though he keeps his back on Connor. I can see it in his posture. Well, he certainly can't blame anyone after his own error in judgement. Fred on the other hand is almost radiating resentment. Her fingers hack over the keyboard rather then flying as before, her back is stiff, her face glued to the screen as if turning to look at Connor might be enough to send her over the edge. And the boy tries to pretend he isn't affected by it at all. And here I thought that all mornings started bright and easy. No, I don't really believe that. But why does it always have to be me running right into situations like that. Oh, well, can't change it - might as well try to make the best of it.

"Good morning everyone." I announce my presence, taking the last two stairs in one. I feel my hip ache and realize I'm not twenty anymore. Suppressing a groan of pain, I favor my left leg when I walk over to the counter, "Any news?"

Wesley looks up from a file in his hands, and for a moment his eyes flicker to Connor, then settle on me, "No. We are actually waiting for Willow to wake up." He sighs, "But so far she hasn't made an appearance."

"They all have to be tired. These were eventful days. And she is still weak from her … er … "

He nods, "I agree. She looks better, but she's pale." He rubs his nape, "What about Buffy?"

"I'd say it's a safe bet that she is still with Angel." I can almost feel the tension rising another notch around me at the mention of the vampire's name. Deliberately ignoring it, I go on, "He … still needs a lot of rest."

"Yes, and we all know whom we have to thank for it," I hear Fred murmur under her breath. Realising that we've heard her, she looks up guiltily, then quickly back at the computer screen.

"We won't gain anything by placing blame," Wesley's voice is gentle, but firm. "Instead we should concentrate on the matter at hand."

"Well, talking about the matter at hand," I nod into Connor's direction. The boy is busy tapping his toes on the ground.

"Ah, yes," Wesley catches n qun quickly, "Shouldn't we at least have donuts and …"

"I can go," Connor pipes up instantly. "I … I mean, if you want me to."

"That would be great," I tell him with a smile. "And maybe you could make a visit at the butcher's, too. Your fa … I mean, Angel needs a lot of nourishment right now." I sigh, seeing a familiar figure standing on top of the stairs, "And I suppose Spike would be grateful as well."

"Too thoughtful of you, watcher," the formerly blond vampire comes down, one of his brows coming up in the process. No doubt he's felt the tension too. "I'd go with you, kiddo, but it's a little too bright out there for me." He grins at the boy, and to my surprise Connor smiles back. I wonder what went on between those two.

"That's no problem," Connor replies, taking a few bills from Wesley. "I'll just get a whole box." Keeping his eyes on the ground, he asks, "Where is Gunn?"

Clearly expecting Fred to answer, Wesley frowns when nothing comes from her. "Ah … he went out to get some information. It's for a case, or so I was told. Unfortunately … I'm not up to date with your current affairs."

"Oh … okay." Connor nods, and with a last glance at Spike, he is gone.

"It's tough for the kid. Even more so if you're confronted with rightful anger from all sides." Spike remarks, before sauntering towards the door of the basement. No doubt he's already seen Angel's training equipment down there. "Guilt is hard to get by with." With that he opens the door and disappears from view. Not from earshot because being a vampire I'm sure he can hear us loud and clear even now.

"He is right, you know," I say after a moment, my gaze still on the spot where Connor sat before, then I slowly turn my head and look at Fred whose chin is raised stubborn. "He is only sixteen."

"Where I come from sixteen year olds are sentenced to death for what he did," she shoots back, then instantly puts a hand on her quivering lips. "Oh God," she whispers in horror. "I didn't meant that."

"We know," Wesley tells her softly, "We all know what he did. And don't think that anyone agrees with his actions. But Mr. Giles is right. Connor is only sixteen. A boy. Who didn't grow up the usual way. He was raised to hate. And eventually to kill. Holtz used him as a weapon for his own sick plans for revenge. I won't excuse what he's done, but … I think we need to … forgive?"

I can hear the hidden meaning in his words, saying 'And I hope it includes me, too.' There are explanations for Wesley's actions, too. That he meant well, that he thought he was saving Connor, and Angel in the process, for the vampire wouldn't have wanted to live if he ever hurt his own son. But Wesley was fully aware of his betrayal, while Connor still acted under false pretenses. And I think Wesley knows that as well. Maybe that's the reason he wants them to forgive the boy, because it means that there's a chance he can be forgiven as well.

"Hey, everyone is up already."

Hearing Willow's voice I turn and smile at her, not surprised to see Xander with her. It was Xander after all - surprising as it might be - who managed to pull her from the depths of her despair, who showed her that life was still worth living.

"Oh, Willow. Good morning." Wesley takes a step towards the witch, "We were waiting for you to wake up. Fred has discovered a new website, but she's come to the end of her wits I'm afraid."

"It's in some kind of code," the brunette says, only quickly looking up at Willow, then back at the screen. "I've been trying to break it since dawn, but it doesn't work."

"Did anyone just call me?"

Dawn:

They all turn around to look at me and for a moment I wonder if I said something funny. But I didn't - and so I decide they just didn't expect me that early. Although I'm known for being early – sometimes. When it matters. To me.

"Hey, Dawnie," Willow gives me a smile, "Up already? Did you have a good night?"

I look at her for a long moment, frowning slightly. "Yes. I usually do. Okay, so what's going on here?"

"Nothing," Giles smiles as well. "We were just," he gestures at Fred and the computer, "That is, Fred was telling us about a website she's been trying to read for a while now."

"Is it in some kind of code?" I want to know, leaning over the counter. This is so exciting. I mean, sure, there are more exciting things, like boys, or sex - not that I'm having any - , or kissing - and we won't talk about my last disaster trying - … that kind of stuff, but breaking codes and doing things that are usually forbidden comes a close second. Sometimes having a sister who is a Slayer, and her friends who are watchers, witches and vampires, can be really cool. I sometimes wonder if I could be a Slayer, too. Of course Buffy would freak if she knew I'm even thinking this. But I'm so sick of being left out all the time.

"We don't know," Fred replies, then makes room for Willow in front of the computer.

I watch my sister's best friend for about ten minutes, then feeling bored, I look around. "I'm kind of hungry. What about breakfast?"

"Connor went for donuts a while ago. He should be back soon," Wesley tells me, not turning away from the two women at the keyboard.

"Uh-huh," I reply, sighing loudly. "What about Buffy and Angel. Shouldn't anybody look for them?"

"Yes, that would be good," Giles smiles, "Why don't you go up and check." And he turns away as well.

Which leaves me with the task of checking up on my sister and Angel. Something I *so* don't want to do. I mean, what if they're … and I run in on them. Sure, they can't actually do the nasty, but I'm fifteen, I know there are lot more things - and thinking about them and my sister in one breath is really disgusting - you can do - and probably without losing your soul. Which now leads me to the question why they never tried them before? Or maybe they did - God, this is disturbing. It was bad enough to think about Mom with men. But at least she was discreet about it - most of the time. Buffy has never been discreet. I still shudder at the memory of Riley and Buffy and all the grunts and moans I had to live through.

Giving Giles and the others a last glance, I walk back up the stairs, and I am sure I was deep in thoughts or this would never have happened to me. If Buffy's time with Riley taught me one thing, then to never walk in on my sister unannounced. But believe it or not, instead of knocking first, I simply open the door and walk in, only to want to die on the spot.

"Ooops. Uhm … sorry."

Well, done, Dawn. Well done. You'd get seven hundred verbal on your SAT-scores. But - hey – you're entitled to some stammering if you find your own sister in a heavy lip-lock with a vampire, right?

I'm blushing right up to my roots, trying to retreat quietly, but they don't let me.

"Dawn, hey." Buffy's voice is soft, coming out between red, puffy lips, and she looks at me with an expression in her eyes, I haven't seen for a long time. "What's up?"

"Ah … uh …" and again with the stammering. Damn. They probably think I'm retarded by now.

"Hi, Dawn."

That's when I consciously realize Angel is up, too. I mean, of course he was up. He was kissing Buffy after all, but for the first time I notice the changed expression in his eyes. It's still dazed, but in a good way, and the pallor of sickness seems to be gone from his skin.

"Hi, Angel." I give him a quick wave and a smile. "I … Actually, I just wanted to check if everything's alright." And that'd make me one of their less favorite people, so I add. "Giles made me."

My sister raises a brow, disbelief entering her eyes. "Giles made you - what?"

"He told me to check on you. Okay, I might have mentioned it first, but he still made me come up." Doesn't sound too bad, does it. Maybe they're not really going to hate me now. And besides, "You shouldn't be kissing. Kissing is … bad … because it could lead to more …and-"

"Stop right there," Buffy interrupts my babbling, and I want to die. Did I really just tell her kissing was bad? Oh. My. God. I am so dead.

"Just," I swallow, gulp, "pretend, I'm not there. I'm not existing. In fact, I was never transformed into a human in the first place." I send Angel a desperate look, "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," he smiles, kind of a sad smile that makes me want to weep. "She is right, you know," he tells my sister, whose eyes sadden as well.

"I guess," she admits, then sighs. "So," she looks back at me, "now that you know we're still alive and kicking, you can leave.

"Buffy-" Angel says, but she cuts him off.

"Or is there anything you wanted."

"Con-," I gaze nervously at Angel, not sure how he feels about his son right now. "I mean someone went for breakfast. Donuts. Maybe you're hungry. Oh - and he'll bring blood, too."

"It's okay," the vampire replies, "You can mention Connor's name. I remember everything now."

"Everything?" I gulp, uneasily glancing at Buffy, who walks back to Angel and takes his outstretched hand.

"Yes," she nods. "I told him everything tonight. Well, he remembered most of it anyway. I was just filling in the blanks."

"Connor is really sorry, Angel," I hurry to say, "He feels totally bad about it. He just sits there and kind of stares into nothing. A-and he went out to get blood for you."

He smiles, and I'm suddenly reminded of all the smiles I received from him. They were rare, but I loved them. After I lost my initial shyness with him, I really appreciated those smiles. They are nice – even though they're always a little bit sad. But maybe it's because of it that they are nice.

"And Wesley is sorry too," I blurt out, then swallow - hard - when I see Angel's eyes widen.

"Wesley?" he asks, his voice sharper then before, his eyes turning to Buffy. "Wesley is here?"

"He brought us here," she says, and I can see she's squeezing his hand, "He found a piece of an scr scroll - a prophecy - the Apocalypse - jadda, jadda, jadda … same old. Anyways. He went searching for you, because it seems that you and me … we seem to be important for this."

Angel:

I'm sure what to think. Wesley is here. In this hotel. In my house. Wesley. My friend. The man who fought by my side, who saved my life. The man who betrayed me. Who took my son. Who gave him to Holtz, thinking that an insane vampire hunter was better for the kid than his own father.

And I keep hearing a sentence I didn't think about for a long time.

//Together you're powerful.//

It seems that another vampire, in another world, in another life heard those words, spoken by beings who are long dead and forgotten - by most. The way I almost forgot what's important in my life. Almost involuntarily my gaze comes to rest on Buffy. And I wonder how I could ever think that life without her could be good.

And then I remember her last words - and see her looking at me. "What do you mean, we're important. Important - how?"

She shrugs, "Important. That's what he said, right?" She looks at Dawn and the girl nods enthusiastically. She's still slightly rosy with embarrassment having walked in on us kissing. I have to suppress a smile at that thought. It was almost an innocent kiss - almost because no kiss between Buffy and I can be completely so, but it wasn't threatening to spin out of control. It was more for comfort and reassurance than passion -even though I could feel my groin tighten at having her so close.

"Important, huh?" I echo, struggling to get up. Instantly Buffy rushes to my side, pushing me back on the bed.

"No way, mister. You're still too weak for this." Her hands are gentle but firm on my shoulders, and she's right I'm far too weak to fight her. Still I'm getting sick on just lying around. Plus I want to see Wesley. And Connor. And the others. I need to find out what's going on. What this prophecy means. Where it comes from.

"Did Wes say anything about where he found the prophecy?"

"Something about the Scroll of Aserbeidjan," Buffy replies and despite the situation I have to chuckle. Some things never change.

That it's part of the Scroll I once stole from Wolfram & Hart makes me nervous. And it explains why Wesley was freaked enough to contact Buffy. So far the contents of the Scroll have been nothing but correct. What it doesn't explain is how the ex-watcher came to it in the first place. "Where did he find it?" I want to know.

"He said he found it in his girlfriend's apartment - or rather Gunn said that." Buffy looks at me curiously, "Why?"

Girlfriend? Last time I checked Wes was as single as they come. So where the hell did a girlfriend suddenly come from? "Did Gunn by any chance mention the girlfriend's name?"

"Lilah. Gunn called her Lilah, and I got the feeling that it was a sore spot between them. I didn't understand it at first, but after Fred told me that Lilah works for that law firm who's been giving you so much trouble, I understood. But," Buffy goes on, answering my unasked question, "it is over. Wesley walked out on her. Or at least he planned to. But as he seems to be back, I suppose he did."

She turns to her sister, who shrugs, "He is back. But didn't mention the girlfriend."

Wesley and Lilah. Wow, a match made in heaven. I wonder how that happened? And did I know it before? God, these black spots in my memory really suck. Sighing I run a hand through my hair, then over my face, instantly startled by the bony structure. Grimacing at Buffy, I say, "It's probably a blessing I'm not having a reflection, I have a feeling I look pretty ghastly right now."

"Oh," Dawn grins, "You look so much better already. You should've seen you when we found you."

And that's supposed to help? Out of the mouth of babes … "Ah," I smile weakly, "Thanks."

"You're welcome," she beams. "I suppose Connor should be back by now. So how about … I bring you some blood and donuts. And coffee." She grins at her sister before slipping from the room.

"How do you really feel?" Buffy asks as soon as Dawn is gone, her eyes dark with worry.

"I'm fine," I assure her. "I really am," I say when I see the doubt in her expression. And it's not a lie. Compared to how I felt only a few days ago I'm feeling like being on top of the world again.

There is a knock on the door, and Buffy grins, "Seems she's learned." She gets up, and walks towards the door, but in the same moment it opens - but not Dawn appears.

It's Connor, holding a bag and two mugs, his eyes darting around the room, looking at everything and nothing. I feel a wave of love swap over me. This is my son. No matter what he did, he is still my son -and I'll love him always. He clears his throat before he speaks, "I … uh," he gives Buffy a shy smile, and I can sense those two have been talking. "Brought you this." He holds out the bag and the mugs. "One is coffee - the other is blood. Warm. Spike showed me how to do it."

At the mention of the blond vampire I barely suppress a growl. Seems it doesn't matter how weak I am. Jealousy works always.

"Thanks," I hear Buffy say. "That's great. Dawn said you got them fresh." She indicates the bag.

"Yeah," he nods, obviously glad for the subject, "I … it was no problem."

"I know. Still, thanks." She takes the coffee from him and the donuts, then nods towards me. "Why don't you bring the cup to your … to Angel?"

He flinches at the mention of my name, and his startled eyes fly to her face, looking at her wildly.

"Connor," I say quietly, afraid I could startle him. He looks like a wild animal that's poised to flee any moment.

Slowly, his back stiff, his free hand clenched beside his body, he turns, a deep frown on his face, his eyes lowered. "Yes?" It's barely a whisper.

"Come here," I order softly. "I don't … bite," I chuckle, "which isn't the complete truth. But I don't do it regularly these days."

He is taken aback for a moment by the humor in my voice, then a small smile appears on his lips, even though he's still not looking at me. "So I heard," he says. "I … I'm sorry for … doubting you."

"Everyone makes mistakes, son." I deliberately use the term, and as I intended, his head finally comes up. "I'm hardly the one to blame you for yours. And I said it before. I'll always love you. That's the important part. We're going to talk about the rest later." I give him what I hope is a reassuring smile, then take the mug from him, the smell of the warmed blood instantly hitting my nose. I almost vamp out there and then, but am able to hold back the very last moment. I'm not sure it would bring me any points right now with Connor. He might have realized that Holtz was the one lying to him and not me, but our relationship is still shaky at best.

"Yes," he nods, smiling again, a little more brightly this time. "I'd really like that. Talk, that is. There … is a lot I want to …ask."

"I know," I reply, sipping from my cup, casually, as if it's the most natural thing to do. What it is – for me. And as my son there are things he needs to accept. Like me drinking blood. So better start now than later. I can feel his eyes watching me while I'm sipping, but he doesn't avert them. "We have a lot of catching up to do. Not just because of the last months, but also … all the years I missed. I mean, we didn't get to talk a lot before all this happened."

"No," he agrees, the frown once again appearing on his forehead.

"Hey," Buffy jumps in, licking powder from her lips, making me wish it could be my tongue doing it. "I once sent him to Hell. I stabbed a sword right through him. And he forgave me." Her eyes meet mine, and although she's making light of it, is trying to help Connor, I can still see the pain in the depths of her hazel orbs. And I want to kiss her in the worst way, because I know she's doing this for him. For my son. And at the same time she is doing it for me. Every time I think I can't love her more, she proves me wrong.

"I heard," Connor replies, then gets up. "I … I'm glad we're going to talk," he says, "Just rest now. You … still need to build your strength." Then without another word he is gone, leaving Buffy and me to ourselves.

And even though I would've liked for him to stay, I still smile when I look at her and she smiles back. We both know that what happened right before, was as good as a breakthrough. I know Connor and I still have a bumpy road in front of us, but I can't help believing that the worst part is over already.