Cold As It Gets

Author: enigmaticblue

Rating: PG-15

Archive: If you already have my stuff, otherwise just ask.

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters in this story. Need I say more?

Summary: Set in a very AU world after the BtVS S6 episode Grave and the Ats S4 episode, Orpheus. Spike never shows up in Sunnydale, Faith sticks around in L.A., since there's no First Evil to worry about in Sunnydale, and Angel and Connor manage to prevent Jasmine from rising. The AI gang is left fragmented until the Powers That Be decide to intervene.

"To the end of the earth, I search for your face, for the one who laid all of our beauty to waste. Threw our hope into hell and our children to the fire. I am the one who crawled through the wire. There's a million sad stories on the side of the road. Strange how we all just got used to the blood. Millions of stories that will never be told, silent and froze in the mud. I know a cold as cold as it gets. I know a darkness that's darker than coal. A wind that blows as cold as it gets. Blew out the light of my soul...I know a cold as cold as it gets. I fight a war I may never see won. I live only to see you live to regret everything that you've done." ~Patty Griffin, "Cold As It Gets"

Chapter 8

Connor looked up from his comic book as Angel wandered downstairs. He was the first to emerge. Fred had called to let them know she was going to be out all night, Faith and Wesley were both still in her room, and Spike had disappeared after their return last night. Connor could sense him inside the hotel, but he understood the need to be alone.

Angel came to a stop in front of him, leaning on the counter. "Fred back yet?"

"I haven't seen her," Connor replied. "She said she was staying with her friend."

"Yeah." Angel seemed to consider that for a moment. "What are you reading?"

Connor held up the comic book so Angel could see the title. "I'm running out."

Angel frowned, remembering the comic book shop they'd gone to after Fred's professor had tried to kill her. "Do you want to get more?"

He shrugged, struggling to hold back the excitement that bubbled up. Connor had a feeling that Holtz wouldn't approve of comics; they distracted him from his true mission. On the other hand, Connor had no desire to give them up, and Holtz wasn't around anymore to care.

Holtz wasn't around because he'd essentially committed suicide.

"It doesn't matter."

"If you want more comics, it matters," Angel replied. "Connor, you know if you need anything, all you have to do is ask. If I can get it for you, I will."

He nodded. "I know."

"Do you want to go to the comic store?" Angel asked persistently.

Connor hesitated, wondering if he was doing the right thing. Being here, staying here—Connor didn't know if it was the right choice, but he didn't see that he could do anything else.

And he wanted to try. Connor wanted to make this work with a wordless longing impossible to define.

"I guess that would be okay."

Angel's face broke out into a smile. "Great. Let me get my coat."

Connor cast a pointed look towards the doors, where the sunlight was still visible.

"I know a shortcut," Angel assured him.

Connor watched him go before turning back to his book, his fingers caressing the flimsy pages. It was so easy to lose himself inside, to find himself elsewhere for a time, where no one tried to lie to him.

It was why he enjoyed Faith and Spike's company so much. They'd both been honest with him from the very beginning, completely straightforward.

The big question was whether or not he could trust his father to do the same.

~~~~~

"Angel!" The kid looked like he'd just won the lottery. Connor watched as his father shook out his coat, the smoke just beginning to rise. "I didn't think I'd see you again."

"Hey." Angel sounded uncomfortable. "I brought my son. I thought you could help him find what he needs."

The boy's eyes widened. "You have a kid?" He stared at Connor, then shook himself, as though remembering that he was there to sell comics, not to gawk at the potential customers. "Your friend isn't going to come in and threaten to beat me up, is he?"

"Why did you try to beat him up, Dad?" Connor asked, knowing that he'd make Angel squirm with the question.

Sure enough, Angel shifted uncomfortably. "There was some trouble with Fred's professor, back when she and Gunn were dating. And it wasn't me, it was Gunn who did the threatening."

Back when Connor wasn't talking to anyone except for Cordelia. He shrugged. "Oh." Turning to the kid, he asked, "Do you have any with Wolverine?"

The kid snorted. "Are you kidding me? Which one are you looking for?"

Connor shook his head. "I don't know. I've only read a couple. I want to get caught up."

He raised his eyebrows. "Have you been living under a rock?"

"Hell dimension," Connor replied with a straight face.

To his credit, the kid just nodded. "That would do it. Come on, I'll show you what we've got."

Connor followed the kid—whose name was Aaron, he discovered. Aaron happily gave him the rundown on the best comics to purchase, which would be the best investments, and the best place to jump into the storyline. "You can find a lot of information online, if you want to get caught up," Aaron explained.

"Online?"

"On the internet?"

Connor frowned, finally nodding. He figured Fred would probably help him out there. Or maybe Spike, who seemed to be a little more savvy about technology than Angel was. "Okay."

Aaron happily fielded his questions about the various superheroes Connor had been reading about, obviously enjoying his role as mentor. "Come by anytime," Aaron invited after he'd sold Connor a stack of comics and graphic novels. "If you have questions or anything like that."

By the time they headed back to the Hyperion, it was dark enough for them to avoid taking the sewers. Connor suddenly realized that Angel had spent an entire afternoon watching him talk to a stranger, without trying to rush him or interrupt. "Thanks," he blurted out, feeling like it needed to be said.

"For what?" Angel asked.

"You know. For going with me and everything." Connor hesitated, deciding that he didn't mind saying it. "I had a good time."

"Really?" Angel asked hopefully. "Do you, uh, want to get something to eat?"

Connor thought longingly about his new comics, and then shrugged. "Sure. I could eat."

~~~~~

Angel took him to a diner and watched him eat his burger and fries. At first, Connor had felt awkward eating while Angel looked on. With Holtz, once he was old enough to do the hunting for them, Connor ensured that his foster father ate first, and only then would he eat. Although Connor knew that vampires didn't eat regular food—unless the vampire was Spike—it was harder to be watched.

These days, Connor didn't think about it too much. He supposed he was getting used to being around the vampire, used to the idea that Angel didn't eat and wouldn't age, that he couldn't go out during the day. If someone had told him that he would someday be used to having a couple of vampires around, Connor probably would have killed them just on principle.

He'd devoured half his meal before Angel's voice broke the silence. "Can I ask you a question?"

Connor paused in his eating, casting a wary glance across the table. He didn't like the tone of Angel's voice, and he thought it a good possibility that he wasn't going to like the question either. They didn't speak much as a rule. He and Angel fought side-by-side, they hunted together, but they didn't talk.

Neither one of them was much for words anyway.

"Okay."

"Are you happy here?"

"I'm fine," Connor replied quickly, his mind shying away from actually thinking about the question. He didn't want to think about it, and he was quite sure that Angel didn't want him to think about it either. His father didn't want the truth; it would hurt too much.

Strangely, Connor had no real desire to hurt him anymore.

"No, Connor," Angel said, coaxing him. "I want to know."

Connor looked away, glancing around the diner with its scattered patrons. He wondered if any of them had noticed that Angel hadn't reflected against the windows when they walked inside, or if the waitress had known why the vampire had requested a booth against the wall rather than next to one of the front windows.

It wasn't an easy question to answer. Connor wasn't unhappy here. There were some things he appreciated about L.A., like the food—burgers and fries, junk food—and comic books. When he remembered to relax, Connor appreciated the fact that he could. He liked being able to go back to the hotel, knowing that it was a safe place for the most part. It was nice to have other people around, people to talk to, to spar with.

Being here was harder, too, though. Harder in a way he wasn't certain he'd ever understand. How did you unlearn eighteen years' worth of instincts? How did you learn to read the shades of gray, to know what was right and what was wrong?

There had been no questions in Quortoth, only imperatives. Connor missed that sometimes.

"I'm happy, Dad," Connor said, the title coming easier now. "It was just easier there."

Confusion crossed Angel's face, but he didn't try to argue. "Easier how?"

"Simpler," Connor clarified, not knowing how else to say it, and not wanting to explain. If Angel didn't understand, he never would.

That seemed to clear things up, because Angel's face cleared. "Kill or be killed. It is easier," he agreed, his tone nostalgic.

Relief flowed through him as Connor realized that maybe Angel did understand. "Yeah." He cocked his head. "You know?"

"When we went to Pylea," Angel clarified. "To get Cordelia back. I was a hero there, and everything was black and white. There were good guys and bad guys."

"What happened?"

"They asked me to kill Fred," Angel replied. "And suddenly it wasn't quite as easy as I had thought."

Connor thought about Holtz asking him to kill Angel. Setting him up to kill Angel, really. "Yeah. It's never that easy, is it?"

"No. It never is."

Connor thought of Cordelia, of loving her. Of walking away, knowing that Angel was going to kill her and the child they'd created together.

He'd done the right thing. He knew that now; he'd just never realized how much it would hurt.

"Sometimes I wish..." Connor trailed off, not wanting to say the words out loud. Not wanting Angel to know that there were days he wished he'd never left Quortoth, when clarity was more important than anything else.

"I know."

Nothing more needed to be said.

~~~~~

"What are you up to, kid?"

Connor glanced up from the TV, feeling the familiar bolt of desire go through him at the sight of Faith. Even though he knew she was with Wesley, he'd have to be blind not to notice how attractive she was.

Besides, now that he'd had a taste of what sex could be like, Connor wouldn't be opposed to trying it out again.

Still, he knew that Faith had no interest in him, and Connor wasn't interested in experiencing rejection. He just wished he knew some way to get a girl to look at him twice.

Other than rescuing her from vampires. That only worked so many times, and there wasn't a guarantee that she'd be interested in him afterwards.

"Watching a movie."

Faith plopped down in the other chair, propping her feet up on the edge of the table the television was on. "What superhero are we watching tonight?"

"It was with Cordelia's stuff."

The explanation was necessary, as the movie was not Connor's usual fare. He preferred movies with plenty of action, and Clueless wasn't it. Connor had decided that it might be helpful to get some idea of what girls his age liked, although he wasn't sure this particular film was the best choice for background research.

Faith snorted as soon as she recognized the movie. "It would have to belong to Cordelia. Nobody else around here would watch it."

Connor could feel his face flush. "I didn't have anything else to watch."

She glanced over at him and then ruffled his hair in a friendly manner. "I'm giving you a hard time, Connor."

He reached out to shut the movie off, suddenly uninterested. It was a stupid movie anyway, and there didn't seem to be much point in it. Connor wasn't normal; he never would be normal. To think that he would ever be able to attract a normal girl was just—stupid.

"Okay, what's that about?" Faith asked. "You're not mad at me, are you?"

"I'm fine," Connor replied, knowing that he sounded surly. They thought of him as a kid, as though he didn't know what was going on, or how they looked at him. He knew. He couldn't help but know.

After all, Holtz had taught him to pay attention to everything in his environment. It was second nature to take in the reactions of those around him.

"What's wrong?" Spike's head poked through the door, and Connor was suddenly pissed off. Enraged, with no good reason why, except that everyone always wanted to know how he felt and what he was thinking. How the hell was he supposed to answer when he didn't even know most of the time?

"Nothing!" Connor let his feet take him where they would—out of the room, up the stairs, all the way up to the roof. The night air was soothing, the breeze playing with his hair. He felt like an idiot as soon as he had a moment to think. Someone would probably come after him now, want to know what his problem was. They'd want him to talk about it.

Except that it was Spike and Faith, so maybe not. They tended to let him be when he was out of sorts. It was one of the reasons Connor liked being with them so much.

"Nice night."

Spike's voice floated across the distance. Connor stiffened and then relaxed when no questions were forthcoming. "Yeah. I guess."

"I like coming up here. It's peaceful. Helps me get my head sorted out." Spike's voice was conciliatory. "Faith told me to apologize for her. She said she was giving you a hard time."

"It's not a big deal." Connor glanced up. There were no stars in Los Angeles. It seemed wrong, to look up and see nothing but a handful of dim pinpoints of light. Everything felt wrong tonight.

Spike stood next to him, hands in his pockets as he looked up. "Remind me to take you out to the desert sometime. You can actually see the stars there. Millions of them. A hundred years ago, you could see even more than that."

Connor glanced over at him. "What's it like?"

"What's that?"

"Living forever?"

"Dunno. Haven't lived that long."

"You know what I mean."

Spike frowned thoughtfully, obviously weighing Connor's question. "Hard to say, really. You don't know what it feels like until a few decades pass and you're still around, still the same as you were before. Time passes differently." The silence stretched out between them, but it was comfortable—an easy sort of quiet. "You want to talk about it?"

"Not really."

"Alright."

Connor suddenly turned to face him. "How do you get a girl to like you?"

Spike's expression didn't change. There was no sign of amusement. "I don't know."

Connor was certain that the vampire was making fun of him. "Yeah. Right."

"No, I'm serious. I have no idea." Connor heard him sigh. "Look, the last couple women I liked ended up either running away from me or nearly killing me, so I don't think I'm the best person to ask. As far as women liking me is concerned, my record's spotty at best."

"So it doesn't get any easier?"

"Not if you're me." Spike did sound amused now, but Connor knew it was more as a result of a shared joke than one made at his expense. "What brought this on?"

Connor shook his head, unable to explain. Other than what his life's purpose was going to be, the opposite sex was the primary thing on his mind at any point in time.

Spike laughed softly. "Stupid question, huh? You're a teenager, and you're male. You don't need an excuse."

"Yeah."

"Wish I knew what to tell you, Connor."

"It's okay," he replied, and suddenly—in one of the rapid mood swings that not even he understood—it really was.

Tonight it would be enough to stand out on the roof, under the stars, with someone he could call a friend. Everything else could wait.