Just A Little Unwell


By Vixen

With all the power Wolfram and Hart had access to, they still couldn't fix Connor's life with a simple spell. The memories slipped out slowly at first, barely noticeable to the humans he lived with. He became obsessed with thoughts of vampires. They were coming for him; he knew it. They didn't exist; he also knew that. It meant very little when he'd wake up screaming at night, feeling death's fingers creeping over him, pulling him back to where he belonged.

Once the crack in his sanity had begun, it deepened, and the past couldn't be contained. It mixed with hid new memories and soon he couldn't tell which was which or who was an enemy. In his mind, everyone was guilty and they all deserved to be punished. One home had given him away, another had lied to him and called him part of their family, and he wanted vengeance. He craved it. Someone, he couldn't remember who, had taught him the scriptures in Bible. The eye for an eye passage had been one of his favorites.

His parents, his fake parents he reminded them, sent him to a specialist after he attempted to kill his sister, his fake sister he reminded himself. Did she even exist? Did he? Nothing besides his need for revenge was real anymore. He was only in his new prison, the San Francisco Psychiatric Hospital, for a short while before being move to a place in England. The doctors said it was because he was a special case, but he already knew that. While everyone else in the place was crazy, he was special because he knew the truth.

The doctors in the new place poked around his insides mulling through his emotions, searching for something to fix. They tried their tricks, played their games, and tried to find some part of him that would accept the irrational as true. All their attempts at saving him failed though, because Connor was through lying to himself.

There was another in the place that knew the truth. He found her one night after escaping from lock-down in his room. The doctors should have known the boy couldn't be restrained for long. Connor was headed for the exit when he passed by her room, saw her rocking back and forth on her bed and mumbling a language he didn't understand. After he broke down her door, the girl switched to speaking in English, though her words were just as confused and jumbled, "Heart and head. It doesn't hurt if you don't move."

He moved towards her warily, watching as she struggled against the bonds the doctors had placed on her. There was something about the strength in her muscles, the force of her words, her wild eyes that drew Connor forward, even when he knew escape was more important. He reached for her chart that hung on the end of the bed, "Dana. Your name is Dana?"

She screamed, low and guttural, trying to undo her shackles by sheer will alone. "Slayer."

"A vampire slayer?" He asked standing over her bed, reaching out for her arm roughly to check for a tattoo. He remembered one slayer, but this wasn't her. Alarms started to go off in the building, making him react quicker. They'd be coming for them soon. Undoing the bed straps, he smiled mercilessly, "Good news, Dana. I'm in need of a Slayer. You're coming with me."

As soon as the slayer was free, she kicked him across the room. "No. You won't take me again. I stole your hands, you can't take me now."

Connor could hear people running down the hallway, doctors. They were coming for them, but they'd be too late and he'd be gone. First though, he was going to take care of the Slayer. He tackled her just as she was about to leave the room, "You're wrong, Dana. I've still got my hands," He tightened them around her neck, squeezing the life from her. She struggled, but as dripping IV in the corner attested, she still had drugs in her system.

He would have killed her, but the sound of a doctor approaching brought him back to his surroundings. Lifting the slayer's body over his shoulder, Connor left the small room behind. It was time to leave their prison. There was a doctor and a security guard waiting for them in the hallway, but Connor was able to knock them over with a wheeled gurney.

One of them reached for a walkie-talkie, "Mr. Giles. Connor's escaping, we can't-"

His sentence was cut off when Connor reached down and snapped the doctor's neck. The security guard was already dead, they made a pretty picture lying dead together. Served them right for trying to keep him locked away from the rest of the world when Connor knew he was right. The boy grabbed the still unconscious Dana from off the gurney where he had left her. Carrying her out of the hospital, he evaded those who tried to stop them. By the time they got away, Connor had only killed two people, though he wished it had been more. They deserved more.

When Dana awoke in his arms, Connor had to struggle for her not to attack him. He dragged her behind a city building, the smell of urine seeped up from the brick wall and above them the sky was black. It would rain soon, they needed to get to shelter. She beat her fists against his chest, so he punched her across the face, and their fight from the hospital continued.

Ducking a punch, he yelled, "I just saved you from that hell. Would you have liked if I left you there instead? For the doctor's to pry open with their endless questions and medicine that would make a liar out of you? You know the truth. That's good. So do I."

"Truth?" She angrily brushed her hair away from her face, focusing her eyes on him dangerously. "Vampires. We fight them. We die. It's tradition. Passed down.. ages and ages.. We kill them."

"There's only one I'm interested in killing," Connor told her, his look just as dangerous. He had to search his mixed up memories for the right name, but when he found it, his mouth spit it out like a vile thing, "Angel."

"Angel," She agreed, her mouth forming a twisted smile.

Connor stepped closer to her, adrenaline still racing through his veins. She was a deadly kind of beauty, and only more enticing because she knew the truth, in their crazy world made for two, they were after the same thing. Death for those who stood against them. He couldn't stop himself from tasting her. Their mouths melded together, as he draped one arm around her back, pulling her closer. She wrestled against him, but that only made Connor want her more. He needed this. He needed to know that he wasn't alone. The world might be a cold messed up place, but her warmth made him feel closer to whole.

It was weeks before she trusted him after that, but he was not going to let her go without another fight. Her brain a playground, he pushed and pulled on the right triggers in her mind until she began to trust him. Stockholm's Syndrome was a very useful tool when he understood how to brainwash her correctly. They stayed in London long enough to save up a plane ticket back to Los Angeles, where the demons Connor knew too well would be waiting for them. Angel knew he had escaped, Connor had heard that in the demon underground he and Dana had made their home amongst.

The demons didn't bother him anymore; there were worse things out there than them. There were fathers who lied to you, did spells on you, and locked you up in psychiatric hospitals. All because they thought Connor was a threat. That just made him laugh. A vampire walked free to run the biggest evil corporation in the world, and they called Connor a threat. It wasn't right.

Standing in front of the Wolfram and Hart office building, Connor held a gun in one hand and Dana's hand in his other. He gave her hand a squeeze and asked, "Ready?"

She answered him in a dead language and held up a stake. She was ready.

They burst in the doors and wasted no time getting to work. Connor dispatched the security guards at the front desk with a bullet through each of their heads before they could even react. With any luck, the people on Angel's floor wouldn't even know anyone had entered the building. Connor would be able to surprise them all, and he would finally get the peace he'd been after. Darting for the stairs, he tugged his vampire slayer along. They took the steps two at a time, their unnatural strength driving them on.

When they reached the right floor, Connor grabbed Dana and kissed her roughly. She returned his affections, somewhere on the trip back to California she'd fallen in love with him, if it could even be called love. Neither of them knew what to call their relationship that was based solely on need. Their one last moment ended and they stormed into the lobby, eager to do what they traveled thousands of miles to accomplish.

Connor thrust the gun out, shooting at anything that moved. Dana followed suit with her stake, slaying all vampires she came in contact with. There were so many screams shattering the air, Connor couldn't help but laugh. For all their power, Wolfram and Hart would fall quickly to him and his slayer. People started running, leaving the office, but Connor wouldn't let them. He reloaded and shot again, over and over, missing no one.

When the last of the humans fell, Connor looked over as Dana fought a vampire with bleach blond hair. The way she worked, her animal instincts, they drove him on just as much as they did her. Soon there was nothing but dust where once there had been a vampire. Dana grinned savagely and bolted down a hallway after noticing another vampire that had been trying to flee the room.

Connor surveyed their work; bodies littered the floor along with wasted blood. There was one person missing from the massacre, the one who was responsible for everything, the one who had left him. He heard footsteps behind him. The smell carried on the air; he didn't have to turn around. The words twisted around vehemently when Connor finally spoke, "Hi, Dad."

"Connor. What have you done?"

The boy spun around, finding something funny in his father's question, "What have I done? Me? I haven't done anything. This was all your fault. You lied to me," He pulled the trigger on the gun, pointing it at his father's head. "Again," He shot again, aiming straight for the brain. "And again." Connor emptied the cartridge, aiming for the same spot. It wouldn't kill his father, but it would leave him in a coma for the rest of his immortal time. If Angel ever did recover, he'd be insane. There were too many pieces of his brain splattered against the wall for him to ever have a normal life again, too many pieces missing. Just like the pieces missing from Connor's life.

Thinking it a justified ending to their relationship, Connor nodded and walked over to Dana. She had just reentered the room, covered in dust; she'd done her job just as well. He picked her up in his arms, twirled her around, the puddles of blood on the floor lapping at his feet. They were a wonderful team; each filled with so much hate. He could see many more conquests in store for their future.

He fucked her there, amongst the dead bodies, made her body rise and fall, and finally felt peace.