From The Ashes (Chapter 22/?)
Chapter 22~ The Long Road Home
In the end, Connor’s fervent protests were overruled by a very determined vampire. Not that he didn’t give it his all. There was even a moment when (Faith had to stifle a laugh at that) Angel looked like he was ready to bodily throw the kid over his shoulder and be done with it. But he had finally prevailed, satisfied enough with begrudging acquiescence on his son’s part.
They waited for sunset. Then they rented a car and took Connor home. Or at least, back to the dorm at Stanford where he passed for just a normal college student.
It should have been a six hour drive. Angel got them there in four and a half, the old Chevy groaning in disapproval. It was a wonder the wheels hadn’t flown off.
“Damn you drive like a demon.” Faith’s knuckles were white from gripping the sides of her seat.
“I think he misses his Maserati.” Connor’s response earned a stern glare from his father, but the vampire said nothing.
A moment of uncomfortable silence descended when they stepped out of the vehicle. Faith kind of disagreed that sending Connor away was the best course of action. But Angel was pretty pissed off, and she was the reason, so she decided not to push her luck. Connor hugged her, clearly enjoying the odd combination of softness and tone in her body a little more than he should have. She laughed and shoved him playfully on the shoulder.
“Remember what I said, Junior. Watch your neck. It’s the best advice anyone will ever give you.”
She leaned back against the car, kicking the gravel with a booted foot, genuinely sorry to see the kid go.
The boy and the vampire walked to Connor’s building in silence, each entrenched in an internal struggle.
Angel wondered how many times he would be standing this close to his son, giving him up for his own good. If he would ever get the chance to see him under non- Apocalyptic circumstances. If there would ever be more to his existence than heartbreak and madness.
The boy in question wasn’t so much wondering, as straining to reign in the imperative coursing through his blood. Battle the forces of evil. Protect the Powers’ Champion.
He wanted to be a part of it, to join his friends in the fight to which he was heir apparent. He knew, he remembered, in his prior lifetime that had been the vampire’s fondest wish. But things were different now. Now, in this brave new world Angel had all but sold his soul to create, he would never allow it. The son he had given up to a normal life would never be permitted to take such a risk.
He wanted to shout that it was unfair. That Angel had no right. That he was ready to jump into the fray, to stand side by side with this man who loved him.
He wanted to say that it was his choice to stay with Angel. That there was nowhere else on this earth he would rather be.
But he could say none of those things. Because that would only make this harder.
Because the last thing he wanted was to be a burden, or a distraction.
Because if he wasn’t around, that was one less potential sacrifice his father would have to make.
So instead he said:
“Just… don’t wait for another Apocalypse to drop by, ok Dad?”
And he saw on that ageless face the effect the words had. Especially that last one.
Angel pulled his son into a fierce hug, clinging to him tightly. Connor laughed a little breathlessly.
“Hey! Some of us actually need to breathe.”
But he threw himself into the embrace. It was the only show of acceptance he could give now. He hoped it was enough.
Halfway through the front door, he turned back to look at Angel.
“Take care of yourself. I don’t wanna have to do any more portal jumping to save your ancient ass.” He met the dark eyes that were nothing like his own. “But I would, Dad. I would.”
Then he was gone.
And Angel finally, finally, felt like he had done something right. But why did doing the right thing invariably involve sending the people he loved away?
***
They’d been on the road for fifteen minutes before Faith spoke.
“Look, Angel, I’m sorry…”
She didn’t mind apologizing to him. After all, he had been the one who taught her to say the words and mean them.
“You had your reasons. As much as it grates to say it, so did Spike.”
He risked a glance at her, even though their current speed definitely demanded that his attention remain firmly on the road ahead.
“But don’t ever keep things from me to protect me. It never ends well.”
He had learned that in the most painful way possible. Hadn’t misguided concern for his well-being been what drove Wes to forever alter the course of all their lives?
“Yeah. Road paved with good intentions, and all that.”
“Exactly. And I’ve already been where that road leads. Twice.”
She laughed, a low throaty chuckle to which not even Angel was immune. He let himself relax just a little, concentrate on the freedom of flying down the endless stretch of highway. Let himself put away the losses behind and the dangers ahead, just for these few short hours. He felt her fingers on his arm, resting briefly against the soft material of his shirt.
“Thanks Angel.”
Like always, he knew exactly what she meant.
The rest of the journey was made in silence. His hands gripped the steering wheel, an extension of the machine beneath them, the air sweeping through his hair and wiping the slate of his mind clean. Faith leaned back lazily, letting this dead man pull her back into the world of the living, feeling the comfort she only experienced in his presence until it lulled her into a pleasant sleep.
They made it back in just under four hours, Angel flooring the gas to beat the rising sun.
***
Buffy awoke to find Angel leaning against the closed door, watching her with an unreadable expression. She arched her back, stretching, and noticed with satisfaction the lust that sharpened and darkened his stare.
“Hey,” she said softly. “We’re all set. Leaving for Rome just after sunset. Anyone ever tell you traveling with you vamps is a real pain in the butt?”
He said nothing. Didn’t even give her the courtesy of smiling at the lighthearted banter she managed even though she wasn’t fully awake yet.
“Angel? You dropped Connor off?”
He inclined his head a few centimeters in affirmation.
“And you think he’ll stay put? From what I’ve seen, he’s a chip off the stubborn ass block.”
The only answer she received was a subtle shrug. This was getting ridiculous.
“Ok, quit with the creepy.”
An unexpected chill worked its way into her bones, but it wasn’t something she could account for. After all, Angel was nothing if not taciturn. A century of wandering around with no one but rodents for companionship was bound to do that to a guy, and besides, she was used to reading him without needing too many words. Plus, there was the fact that she was wordy enough for the both of them. So the silence was something intrinsic to him, and she didn’t mind it, not too much at least.
But this felt different, somehow.
He must have sensed her unease because he sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets in the gesture that was another thing intrinsic to him.
“I’m sorry about earlier, Buffy. Speaking to you that way… I shouldn’t have…”
The chill left her in a relieved expellant of breath.
“It’s ok. I get it. It’s a dad thing. Or a macho broody vampire with a power complex thing. I’m not sure which yet.”
One corner of his mouth slightly lifted at that, so she figured she was on the right track.
“I think it’s more of a ‘too used to being the boss’ thing. First with Angel Investigations, and then running a multi-million dollar corporation. It’s hard to let go of that instinct to lead. I don’t think I can.” He shrugged. “Even with a slayer ordering me around.”
Buffy mentally sidestepped his little passive-aggressive jab. At least he was joking around, not being all mute in a corner.
“Wow. An apology and an explanation? I guess not being sexually repressed kinda loosened your tongue, huh?”
He smiled, albeit uncomfortably. She wished for the Angel of yesterday, the one who had kissed her senseless with the certainty of unshakeable faith. He was shaken now, having given up his son again. She longed to make his burden easier to bear somehow.
Reaching under the bed (his bed. Their bed?), she pulled out the waiting box. He seemed hesitant to move, so Buffy got up and brought it to him. He opened it slowly, both intrigued and uneasy, wide eyes flying to hers at the contents within.
Buffy smiled sheepishly. They had been on their way back to the hotel with Spike in tow when she had spotted it, staring at her from the storefront window as if begging to belong to him. It had been entirely too expensive, but hey, what was a slayer allowance for if not to treat vampire lovers to overpriced gifts?
He pulled the jacket from the wrapping paper, feeling the soft lambskin glide under his fingertips.
“Why did you…?” Voice, like face, filled with wonder. It was her turn to shrug.
“I know how much you liked the other one. So I thought you should have it. Adds to the whole mysterious, creature of the night look.”
He held her eyes for a long time. Then, put his gift aside gently. Pulled her to him, wrapping broad arms around her tiny frame. But it was a loose hug, distant almost, and she really wasn’t that surprised when he pulled away.
“Look, Buffy. Thank you, but you really, really shouldn’t have. We… we need to talk.”
That sinking feeling she was so familiar with settled in the pit of her stomach. So that’s how it was going to be. She said nothing. He barreled on.
“I know we have to work together on this. But after it’s over, maybe…. Maybe we should just go back to the way things were before.”
She knew there was something driving him to do this. A reason that was probably very valid in his mind. Maybe more than in just his mind. But she couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop the bitterness of déjà vu from coloring this moment. From stealing her reaction and shaping it, from directing an attack straight at his heart.
“At least we’re not in a sewer this time.”
AN: I hate it when fic authors do this, but.... ummmm, please don't kill me for the cliffhanger at the end? Pretty please? *ducks flying objects*
Next: Chapter 23~ All Or Nothing