(no subject)
Title: Brief Candle
Author: Xocoatldreams
Fandom: AtS
Characters/Pairings: Connor
Prompt/Challenge: #135 Nihilism
Rating: R for mentions of violence
Warning: Character death
Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with AtS. No money being made and no offense intended.
A/N: Migraine induced writing. I'm not sure it makes any sense.
He glanced over at the still form laying on the floor, the barely moving chest the only sign of life. Satisfied that his guest wouldn't be waking anytime soon, he began his preparations. First he gathered the elements together, carefully bundling and position each piece. Then he stripped off his jacket and shrugged into his improvised vest. His new piece of clothing was a bit heavy, but his preternatural strength easily handled it. Finally, he strapped on a gun, snatched from some idiot mugging a woman in a back alley. A quick check and he was sure everything was as it should be. So he carefully picked up the comatose body and carried his burden to their destination.
Nearly everyone would say he was insane, and he was pretty sure he was, but he was going to prove a point. Life had no reason, nothing but moments of pain interspersed by brief bits of pleasure. And for him, the pleasure was briefer than for most. He was going to show the world just how pointless everything truly was.
The mall was crowded with the usual weekend shoppers. He shrugged off his jacket, letting everyone see the bombs strapped to his chest and made his demands. The possibility of his father showing up was high. He wasn't sure just what the vampire would do. Kill him. Try to talk to him. Something. But he would be showing up, if only for the limp body of Cordelia Chase. Angel would be there. He was sure of it.
***** ***** ***** ***** *****
"Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more; it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing."*
Angel brushed a hand over Conner's hair, soothing the ache building in his heart. He wasn't sure he had made the right choice. The choice that had been put before him was an agonizing one. Did he sacrifice his son and walk away with mostly clean hands? Or did he give in to Wolfram and Hart and give Connor a real chance at life but risk his soul and those around him? Staring at the vision of his son on the screen, he made his choice, falling to his knees in tears. The sharpshooter's bullets hit exact, ending that oh so brief life and he felt his heart beat enough to break.
It was less than an hour later when the phone rang, asking him to come down to the police station. Less than three that he was allowed to take both bodies, one dead and one barely living, with him. Gunn and Fred took Cordy upstairs, making her as comfortable as possible while Wes made funeral arrangements. The ex-Watcher's eyes were shadowed with grief and guilt, but Angel had passed the point of blaming the man. He knew the true blame lay on his own shoulders. It was his past crimes that led to Connor's kidnapping. It was his present action and inaction that led to Connor's crimes.
He continued stroking Connor's hair as everyone worked around him. Quietly he hummed a lullaby, praying to gods that no longer listened for lenience on Connor's soul.
fin.
*Macbeth
Author: Xocoatldreams
Fandom: AtS
Characters/Pairings: Connor
Prompt/Challenge: #135 Nihilism
Rating: R for mentions of violence
Warning: Character death
Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with AtS. No money being made and no offense intended.
A/N: Migraine induced writing. I'm not sure it makes any sense.
He glanced over at the still form laying on the floor, the barely moving chest the only sign of life. Satisfied that his guest wouldn't be waking anytime soon, he began his preparations. First he gathered the elements together, carefully bundling and position each piece. Then he stripped off his jacket and shrugged into his improvised vest. His new piece of clothing was a bit heavy, but his preternatural strength easily handled it. Finally, he strapped on a gun, snatched from some idiot mugging a woman in a back alley. A quick check and he was sure everything was as it should be. So he carefully picked up the comatose body and carried his burden to their destination.
Nearly everyone would say he was insane, and he was pretty sure he was, but he was going to prove a point. Life had no reason, nothing but moments of pain interspersed by brief bits of pleasure. And for him, the pleasure was briefer than for most. He was going to show the world just how pointless everything truly was.
The mall was crowded with the usual weekend shoppers. He shrugged off his jacket, letting everyone see the bombs strapped to his chest and made his demands. The possibility of his father showing up was high. He wasn't sure just what the vampire would do. Kill him. Try to talk to him. Something. But he would be showing up, if only for the limp body of Cordelia Chase. Angel would be there. He was sure of it.
***** ***** ***** ***** *****
"Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more; it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing."*
Angel brushed a hand over Conner's hair, soothing the ache building in his heart. He wasn't sure he had made the right choice. The choice that had been put before him was an agonizing one. Did he sacrifice his son and walk away with mostly clean hands? Or did he give in to Wolfram and Hart and give Connor a real chance at life but risk his soul and those around him? Staring at the vision of his son on the screen, he made his choice, falling to his knees in tears. The sharpshooter's bullets hit exact, ending that oh so brief life and he felt his heart beat enough to break.
It was less than an hour later when the phone rang, asking him to come down to the police station. Less than three that he was allowed to take both bodies, one dead and one barely living, with him. Gunn and Fred took Cordy upstairs, making her as comfortable as possible while Wes made funeral arrangements. The ex-Watcher's eyes were shadowed with grief and guilt, but Angel had passed the point of blaming the man. He knew the true blame lay on his own shoulders. It was his past crimes that led to Connor's kidnapping. It was his present action and inaction that led to Connor's crimes.
He continued stroking Connor's hair as everyone worked around him. Quietly he hummed a lullaby, praying to gods that no longer listened for lenience on Connor's soul.
fin.
*Macbeth