D. M. Evans
Feedback – ripewickedplum2@Yahoo.com
Spoilers – Pretty much everything
Disclaimer – I don't own them. You know who does. Thanks Joss for letting us play with them.
Summary – Four years after AtS 4, Connor faces his hardest challenge, leveling with Angel and telling him how he really feels about him.
Author's Note – I saw Silent Lucidity's answer to the Dead Letter Home Challenge and remembered seeing the dead letter website a few years back (from which this challenge was derived). I couldn't resist taking the challenge myself. You can find out more about the challenge at
This is so weird. The Powers that Screw You hand me some paper and say 'go ahead, write one last letter home.' Hell, it's my first letter home. You know I never learned to write good. Kinda not needed in Quor-Toth. Anyhow, they said I could write one letter to whomever I want and I thought it should be you, Dad.
I'm dead. You already know that, right? Faith probably told you. Or Dawn. God, I wish someone would tell me how they are. I think this might be heaven but I'm not sure. I still have to fight a lot here but I always win and I'm treated like a hero of old after the battle. Hero of old, listen to me, will you? Too much of Wesley's influence no doubt. The fighting didn't start happening until I got bored with the endless woods and oceans and happy people. I think this just might be heaven tailoring itself to fit me. I never could just sit idle.
In case none of them survived that day, I guess I'd better tell you what happened. We were in Ireland. Okay, you know that part. You wanted to come with but Buffy needed you and Spike in Sunnydale. This was going to be Dawn's first time out as a full-fledged Watcher, like Faith needs one. But still, Dawn was going to be a good one, I could feel it. Yeah, I know I'm not exactly unbiased about either of my girls. I know you and Buffy never approved but being a threesome just worked for us.
Some idiot called up the Wild Hunt, Dad. You're Irish. You know what that means. The things that came spilling across the barrier, I don't even have words for them. I saw an old god that day. Cernunnous uncontrolled like that was terrifying, especially since the fool blowing the horn to summon the hunt had nothing good in mind. We could have used all of you there but we did raise an army of our own to go up against them. And we were winning.
But maybe I should have paid more attention to those stories of home you tried to tell me. That's what got me in the end, a lack of knowledge. Well, I never was bright. Yeah, I know. I'm not dumb. I just never had a chance to learn anything. You, Dawn and Wes have told me this how many times? But it comes down to me dying over that lack.
Can you believe it? A beautiful woman approaches me during those days of battling back the Hunt and offers to do things to me most men would jump at. But I was raised better. I mean, I have two women already, Faith, my fire and Dawn, my heart. Hell, we had just found out Dawn was pregnant. We were both kinda scared by that, me with that demon aspect and her being the Key and all. It was an accident and let's just leave it at that. Anyhow, this woman was something out of a dream, skin like milk, hair as red as blood, eyes like leaves in spring and a body you'd want to take years getting to know and what do I do? I tell her thank you but no thanks.
Let's just say she didn't take it well. Yeah, that's right. I survive the Wild Hunt only to get taken out by a woman spurned. I know what you're thinking Dad. I've always had a thing for dominate women and you're right. I should have just listened to my groin and said yes but oh no, I tried to do the right thing. Do you know what happens when you tell Morrigan no? I'm sure you do. I know you told me the story of Cu Chulainn at least once. I faired about as well as he did.
Morrigan came with her two sisters for me. I want to tell you dying didn't hurt. But it did. Oh God, did it hurt. They dragged it out as long as they could. I remember the pain even now. What can you expect when a goddess of war, death and strife has a mad on for you and brings her likeminded sisters?
I recall lying there in the sun, wishing you were there so I could say goodbye. I could feel myself dying, praying for it to just end. I remember Faith and Dawn holding me at the last. They were crying so hard. I think Dawn was saying I was too young to die. I was twenty-two. I have to agree. Maybe I just imagined them being there. I almost wish I had. I hate thinking that their last memories of me is the way I had to look that day, broken and pulled apart like a child's toy after a fit of anger.
As I was dying, I remember laughing but I couldn't tell you why I did it. I could hear music like that depressing Celtic stuff you like to play. I was thinking this is like a movie complete with soundtrack and when its over I'll get back up and all will be well. But I knew it wouldn't happen. I remember thinking Dad might be happy I died in his homeland.
But the real reason for writing this letter, Dad, isn't to tell you how and why I died. I figure at least one of my friends lived to tell you. I wanted to tell you not to be sad. I wish I had had more time. I feel cheated but I've felt that way all my life. But more than anything I wanted to say what I never could say in life. I could never look you in the eyes and say it no matter how much I wanted to.
I love you, Dad. Plain and simple, I knew we had a connection the day I left Quor-Toth. I never wanted to love you. I was primed to hate you and I wanted to. But something even on that first day said, 'I can't hate him.' When you took that shotgun blast to protect me I remember quivering on that window ledge, frozen with fear and shock, thinking how much you had to care about me to do something like that. I knew that second you loved me and it frightened me. Father told me you'd be kind to me, pretend to love me in order to get close to me and destroy me. I believed it then but there in the back of my mind was the thought, 'yes, you honestly loved me.' God help me, I believed it. There was even a hint of fondness on my part.
And how did I repay that love? I tried to kill you. You know why. You told me that night as I was welding you into the coffin that I would regret it. I never got to tell you you were right. I am so sorry, Dad. Please, forgive me. I died never getting to ask for your forgiveness. Please, don't hate me for that. I wish I could have told you how sorry I was for betraying you like that. That I wished I could take it all back. But then I didn't regret it. I did everything I could to prevent them finding you. The only thing I felt was fear they'd dredge you back up. You might never have seen me again if Fred hadn't tasered me and tied me up before telling me you were coming home. I would have bolted otherwise. I didn't start feeling anything like regret until you told me you loved me and for me to get out of your house. I was regretting losing my cozy little life there and the self-doubt those words caused tore me up. Your loving me threw my world out of synch. I wasn't ready then to be loved.
Know now that I regret what I did to you. I regret every horrible harsh word I've ever spoken to you. I called myself Angelus' son to hurt you because I was hurting so much back then. I never apologized for that either. I'm sorry, Dad, for everything. I can't tell you how much it hurts that I could never say anything to you in person. I missed so many moments. I wasted so much time. Why couldn't I apologize when it mattered? When I could have felt your love coming back to me? I guess I'll never know why I was so weak.
I'm going to miss you. Watch over Dawn and Faith for me. If Dawn decides to keep our child, watch over him or her, too, for me. Tell them both how much I love them. Tell them I'm sorry I didn't have more time to spend with them. Believe me, if there's a way to be there to see them, even as a spirit, I'll find it. Goodbye, Dad. I hope to see you here someday but not too soon, you know. I love you. Don't ever doubt it. Just think of the next storm as my way of raining down the love I never could bring myself to share.