Running on Faith: Season One: Episode 19: Feral
by filmtheory
“Connor,” Angel said in a nervous voice. “Just relax.”

Connor wasn’t relaxed. His muscles were tense and flexed. Angel noted Connor’s stance and his grip on the knives. He wouldn’t be stabbing. He’d be punching and using the knives on the recoil. Smart. And painful.

“How’d you get me out of the sporting goods store?” Connor barked. “Knock me out?”

“Connor, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Why not? Everyone else does.”

“Connor just set the knives down so we can talk.”

“We're talking just fine now. Best we’ll never-”

Connor threw the punch in the middle of his sentence. It took Angel off guard. Tricky bastard Angel thought with a combination of anger and pride.

The punch was fast and hard, followed by the knife slashing down Angel’s chest. The vampire struggled to get his footing, but it was too late. Connor had quickly taken the advantage and would not be relenting.

Angel grabbed Connor’s leg as the boy kicked it forward. Angel groaned at the sharp pain of a knife slamming into the his neck. Angel pulled Connor’s leg toward him, effectively pulling his son to the ground. But Connor, anticipating the move, quickly folded into a sitting position and followed through on his cutting of Angel’s neck.

Connor had grown stronger in the past two years. Luckily for Angel, the last thing the boy appeared to remember was the sporting goods store. He wasn’t used to working with as much strength as he now seemed to have. Had Connor known his own strength, he likely could have followed through with the knife and cut Angel’s head off. As it was, he rolled away from his father and resumed his fighting posture.

“Connor,” Angel said desperately, holding his hand to his neck. “There’s a lot you don’t understand.”

“I know. I don’t understand why you lied to me just when I was just starting to trust you. I don’t understand how you claim to care for me but still took away the only person who ever loved me.”

“I loved you, Connor. Not Cordy.”

“You couldn’t stand me! You threw me out like I was garbage and left me on my own. Made me feel like I didn’t belong. Made me feel like I was alone and no one loved me. And when I found my own place and someone who loved me, you took that away from me, so I’d be alone again.”

“That wasn’t why I did that. I . . . I was trying to-”

This time Angel was prepared for the amid-sentence punch. He grabbed Connor’s arm and twisted it, forcing one of the knives from the boy’s hand. Then, Angel spun hard, slamming his son again the wall.

Connor jerked his body away, twisting his right arm, the one Angel was holding, at an unnatural angle. A loud snap indicated it had been dislocated. The now loose arm allowed Connor to continue turning so that he could slam the knife in his left hand into his father’s stomach.

Angel pushed forward instead of stumbling back. Like Connor, he would sacrifice comfort and allow injury in order to get better position. Connor wasn’t expecting Angel to push forward. He couldn’t retract the knife in time. Angel grabbed Connor’s left hand and twisted it. The knife in his stomach twisted as well, causing immense pain. The twisting also forced Connor to relinquish his hold on the knife.

Angel pulled the knife from his stomach and threw it to the ground. Angel lunged forward and wrapped his arms around Connor. The only thing he could think to try was what the well adjusted version of his son had once done for Dana.

“Stop!” he shouted. “I’m not going to hurt you. Please, just let me talk to you.”

Connor threw a hard punch to Angel’s stomach, landing it on his chest wound. Angel dropped to his knees.

“You won’t hurt me?”

“I won’t,” Angel said firmly, shaking his head.

Connor pulled a stake out of the back of his jeans. “Well you should. You should hurt me some more, dad. In fact, you probably ought to kill me. That’s what I’d do to you.”

Angel was weak, yet struggled to stay where he was. He made no move toward or away from his son. His only movement was to throw his arms open, exposing his heart.

“You know, Connor, if you’re really going to kill me, then do it now. Because, really, I’m sick of living if the person I love more than anyone in the world wants me dead.”

Connor was frozen. Not until Angel called his bluff did Connor even realize he was bluffing. He stood, not knowing what to do next. “Where’s Cordy? Where’d you take her?”

Angel’s stomach turned over at the sound of her name. He was still getting used to her death himself. For Connor, it would likely be devastating. “Connor . . . I . . .”

“Quit stalling! Take me to her!”

“I can’t.”

“Take me to her!”

"She's dead."

Connor slammed the stake into Angel’s shoulder. The vampire dropped to the floor from the pain.

“I’ll find her myself,” Connor hissed as he picked up his knives. He turned and ran from the apartment.

**

“Dawn!” Faith shouted. “Get down here!” With another hard shove, Faith knocked Dana back. Both slayers assumed fighting postures. Faith had arrived back at the hotel ahead of Willow. Spike, who’d been having trouble with the slayer, headed out to help the witch find Eve. It was a better alternative that annoying Dana with the insult of his existence.

Dawn hurried down the stairs. “What? What is it?”

“See, Dana?” Faith said in her best impersonation of a soothing voice. “Your green glowy ball is here. Over on the stairs. You see?”

“You’re not sending me back,” Dana growled.

“Dawn call Willow,” Faith said, not taking her eyes off Dana. “Get her back here. I need her to put Dana under again.”

With a ferocious shout, Dana leapt forward, slamming Faith in the nose with an elbow. Faith recovered quickly. Before Dana could even pull back, Faith gripped her arm and used the young slayer’s momentum to pull her off balance and throw her to the floor.

Dawn fumbled for her cell phone. Taking a moment to stop cursing Connor, she actually wished he were there. Despite being a man, he could calm Dana like no one else. Except maybe glowy Dawn.

“Willow,” Dawn shouted frantically. “Get back here. Dana’s lost it!” She hung up and looked up to see Dana throttle Faith. The senior slayer was holding back while Dana fought like a caged animal.

With Faith down, Dana bolted for the door. Dawn leapt from the staircase and charged in front of her. Faith was rising to her feet. Dawn held up her hands to show Dana she meant no harm.

“Dana,” Dawn said in a legitimately soothing voice. “It’s me. It’s Dawn. You know I don’t want to hurt you, right?”

Dana smiled and gently ran her hand through Dawn’s hair. “So warm. Glowy.” Suddenly, Dana gripped Dawn’s hair tightly. With one quick move, she slammed her head down into Dawn’s. Dawn succumbed to unconsciousness immediately.

Dana grabbed Dawn as the girl slumped to the floor. Dana spun hard and shoved Dawn’s limp body into Faith's path. Dana turned and ran hard for the door. Faith tripped over Dawn. Climbing to her feet, she tried to think whether she would stay with Dawn or pursue Dana. Willow was coming soon. She could help Dawn. Dana would be long gone by then.

Faith sprinted for the door and ran into the night.

***

Kennedy stepped into the lobby to find Dawn lying on the floor with a bloody nose. She ran for the girl and slid to a stop by her side. Pulse was strong. She was just out. Kennedy felt Dawn’s nose. It wasn’t broken, just bleeding. Kennedy ran her hand over Dawn’s head, checking for bumps.

Angel stumbled into the lobby. He was bruised and bleeding. “Is he here?”

“What?” Kennedy asked as she scooped Dawn into her arms and carried the girl toward the hotel’s makeshift infirmary. “Is who here?”

“Connor!” Angel said. “I think I can smell his scent here. It’s faint. Have you seen him?!”

Kennedy walked into the room that had long ago been a hotel bar. She set Dawn on one of the three beds they’d moved into the room. She turned back to Angel, now standing in the doorway.

“Connor’s not here,” Kennedy said, looking down at Dawn. “What happened to you?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re awfully busted up for nothing having happened to you. Connor do that to you?”

“I . . .” Angel frowned. “It’s . . . this is complicated.”

Kennedy nodded toward the bed where Dawn lay. “Think she might have a concussion,” Kennedy said. “Maybe we better call an ambulance.” Kennedy walked past Angel and back to the lobby.

Spike and Willow entered the lobby covered with a grayish puss.

“Searched the manor and the area around it,” Willow said. “Didn’t find Eve.”

“But we did run into a rather unpleasant Glurgg.” Spike shook his hands, spraying the puss onto the floor. “Hence the puss.”

“I guess that makes two fugitives,” Kennedy said, picking up the phone.

“Where’s Dana?” Spike said nervously.

“Faith must’ve taken her out for a little bit,” Kennedy said. “That Connor kid beat the shit out of Dawn and stabbed Angel.”

“Wait,” Angel said angrily. “You think Connor . . .”

“Connor would never do that,” Willow said pleadingly.

“Wills,” Kennedy said condescendingly. “How can you say that? How long have you known him? What do you know about him? I know you like to see the best in people, baby. That’s part of why I love you. But that kid gave me the creeps from the moment I laid eyes on him.”

Angel grabbed Kennedy harshly. The slayer pulled away form him violently. “Watch it!” Kennedy growled.

Willow was in a state of panic. “Well, well, well . . . Spike! You know him. Do you think Connor could do this?”

“He really stab you, mate?” Spike asked Angel.

“Wait a minute,” Willow said. “Why would Faith take Dana out?”

“It was a misunderstanding,” Angel said calmly to Spike.

“Maybe she got restless” Kennedy answered Willow. “Why?”

“Misunderstanding?” Spike said, raising his eyebrows in amusement.

“Well,” Willow said shrugging. “Earlier she went all Grrrr on a mailman.”

“Misunderstanding,” Angel repeated evenly.

“Maybe I should check the cage downstairs,” Kennedy said, turning toward the basement.

“Yeah,” Willow said triumphantly. “Yeah, see, that could be it.”

“If that’s it, then where’s Faith?” Kennedy barked back.

“After tangling with Dana?” Spike laughed. “Probably in the ER getting her hands sewn back on.”

“See?” Willow said. “Spike knows Connor and Dana and he thinks it’s probably Dana.”

“Then again,” Spike said, looking at Willow. “Dana’s pretty fond of Dawn. Likes the green glowy light. Remember?”

The room went quiet. Willow twitched uncomfortably, not sure how much Angel knew about Dawn. “Right. But you still don’t think Connor would hurt Dawn.”

“Considering who his parents were . . .” Spike stopped and looked down. After a moment of reflection, he turned to Angel. “This misunderstanding that he stabbed you up over. What was it?”

“Personal,” Angel answered through clenched teeth.

Willow froze, then looked at Angel. “Was it about that room?”

“What room?” Kennedy asked.

“I’ll catch you up tonight,” Willow said quickly. She stood nervously. “That place. Quor’Toth. Darkest of the dark worlds. That’s where he’s from. Isn’t it?”

Angel shook his head and grinned. “Willow, you don’t know what you’re talking about.” Angel turned and walked toward the door. “And I’m wasting time here.”

Outside, the sky to the east was turning a dull pink. Sunrise was coming. Angel was losing time. Without another word, he pushed open the door and left the Hyperion.

****

Think like a psycho. Think like a psycho. That shouldn’t be hard. I mean, you’ve had enough experience.

Faith was breathing hard. She’d had Dana in her sight for about a five-mile run, but Dana had shaken her in Chinatown.

Faith thought hard. Dana was apparently back to attacking humans, but she thought they were demons. Dana, in her own mind, was still on her mission. She was killing demons. Behind the smog, they sky above was a light blue. Morning was coming, which meant the demons would be heading underground. If Dana wanted to kill them, she’d be heading underground with them. On the other hand, she might look for cover.

Faith pulled up a manhole cover and dropped into the sewer. Dana could look for cover anywhere. The sewers beneath LA were large, but interconnected. Faith’s best shot was to go under and pray Dana was still hunting demons.

*****

“No answer on Faith’s cell,” Willow said, hanging up. “Straight to voice mail.”

Kennedy was on the phone at the front desk, nodding. “Right.” Covering the phone and looking at Willow, she nodded toward the infirmary. “Buffy wants you to see if you can do anything for Dawn before the ambulance gets here.”

Willow nodded and headed for the hospital room that once served as a bar. Spike stepped to the phone. “I need to talk to her.”

Kennedy rolled her eyes.

“It’s business,” Spike insisted. Kennedy handed Spike the phone. “What’re your thoughts on this other thing?” Spike said into the phone.

“This other thing? You mean my sister being knocked unconscious?”

“There’s a bit of evidence pointing to a certain former love puppy of yours.”

“What are you talking about now?” Buffy said almost apathetically.

“Connor,.”

He knew it was his imagination, but Spike could swear he heard Buffy groan on the other side of the phone. “Did Connor say he was my . . . what did you call it? Love puppy?”

“Are you denying?” Spike would be amused at her squirming if the subject weren’t so painful for him. Spike listened for a moment, waiting to see if Buffy would deny it.

“I don’t think Connor would be capable of something like that,” Buffy said, trying to ignore Spike’s questions and comments. “I mean, physically, yeah. But he’s not the type to-”

“Well, luv,” Spike interrupted impatiently, angry at Buffy’s defense of the little punk. “There’s a couple of things you don’t know about him.”

“Like he’s the child of two vampires,” Buffy said.

Spike grimaced. “You slept with him knowing he was . . . I mean, you really don’t give a damn about Angel’s feelings. Not that I do. So, actually . . . well done.”

“I didn’t know! Not when I slept with him. God! I can’t believe that little punk couldn’t keep his mouth shut.”

“Not that I want to make him seem all noble, but the boy stonewalled like a pro. Never copped to nailing you at all. But I’ve got eyes, Buffy. I can see what’s happening around me.”

Buffy sighed, then changed the subject again. “So I know Connor’s secret, Spike. I still don’t think he’s a killer.”

“Know his secret, do you?” Spike said with a laugh. “How about the lad being raised in a hell dimension. You know about that?”

“What are you talking about?”

Spike laughed. “Some place called Gargoyle Goth or something. My mate Lorne reads your young stud muffin and damn near pisses himself. Then he leads Faith and Willow on a wild wacky adventure through a hell dimension where your boy probably grew up. Willow was in there ten minutes and damn near lost her nut. Nothing that lived in that place for any amount of time could come out sane.”

“Connor seemed pretty sane to me. So I suppose he didn’t grow up there.”

“Yeah,” Spike said, disappointed at this whole in his theory of psychotic Connor. “But as soon as Angel left the room, Connor takes a knife to Angel and tears him up something fierce.”

“You know that for sure?”

“Well, I wasn’t there, but that’s the tale Angel tells.”

Buffy was quiet a moment. “Put Kennedy back on the phone.”

Spike turned and tossed the receiver to Kennedy. “Think fast.”

Kennedy grabbed the receiver. “Buffy?”

“Take Spike,” Buffy said. “Find Connor. Bring him in.”

“Buffy, we might not be able to manage that without major injuries. Namely, Connor’s.”

“Bring him in,” Buffy repeated, this time with a harsher tone.

******

Dana crept into the abandoned loft. It was perfect. The stairs were creaky, announcing the arrival of any unwanted guests. It was in the middle of a Chinatown; a major population base for demons. Most importantly, it was a penthouse. It was high, high above ground. Dana had resolved a few days ago to never be underground again.

Dana felt peculiar. Someone was here. Slowly, she turned to see a teenage boy standing across the room from her. His posture was tense and aggressive, like a predatory animal ready to pounce on its prey. Dana tensed and prepared to attack. She moved cautiously to the side, getting rid of the glare from a light directly behind the boy. He was tall. He was skinny. He was Connor.

“You,” Dana said aggressively. “I like you. You’re nice to me. But I’m not going back!”

Connor cocked his head to the side. “You know me?”

Dana began to cry quietly. “I think I do. Some . . . sometimes I think I know people that other people knew.”

Connor circled around, keeping his distance, but maneuvering to get the light in her eyes again. “You’re crying.”

“You’re sharp as a pancake, huh?” Dana snapped bitterly.

Connor looked down at his body, trying to determine how it was sharper than anyone else’s. “No,” he answered her. Connor realized the girl wasn’t a threat. She was tense because he was tense. He slowly relaxed his muscles and assumed a more passive demeanor. Dana did the same.

Connor rubbed his right shoulder. It still hurt from when he’d dislocated it earlier. But it was back in place and more or less better now. “What are you doing here?” he asked Dana.

“Hiding.”

“I used to live here,” Connor said quietly.

“There’s a lot of room here. I like that.”

“Me too.” Connor turned suddenly, facing the door.

“What is it?” Dana asked, herself tensing for battle.

“Someone’s in here.” Connor pulled up his shirt and removed the two large knives he’d holstered under it.

“You’re hurt,” Dana said, noticing Connor’s bandages.

“I’m fine,” Connor answered.

“Did I do that to you?”

“My father did.”

“No, I didn’t, son,” Angel replied as he walked into the room.

Connor snickered. “Should have known you’d find me. What’d you do? Run around the city until you caught a wiff of me?”

“Actually, I just went to the only two places you’ve been known to stay. The hotel and this loft.”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess coming here was kind of stupid.”

“He’s a vampire,” Dana gasped.

Connor smirked. “You’re not the shiniest Sluk in the pond, are you?” he mocked Dana. The slayer rolled her eyes. She didn’t know what a Sluk was, but she was sure her pancake jab was much funnier.

“I don’t want to fight,” Angel said.

“And I don’t want to be your son,” Connor replied, assuming a fighting stance. “So I guess we’re both discontent.”

“Connor,” Angel pleaded. He didn’t want to fight his son twice in one day. They were both already badly hurt and risked permanent injury by renewing their brawl. He hoped he could delay Connor . . .

Connor charged forward, punching Angel hard and dragging the knife in his hand across Angel’s throat as he pulled his hand back. Angel gripped the scraped neck and shot a kick toward his son. Connor had already moved back out of range. Even injured, Connor was quicker than Angel remembered.

With a crash, Kennedy flew through the window from the street. Spike charged in through the door. No sooner had he entered the room than Dana punched him, knocking him onto his back.

“Dana, stop!” Kennedy yelled.

“This is the cavalry?” Angel called to Kennedy as he slumped against a wall.

“Willow’s with Dawn and Faith’s AWOL,” Spike called.

“Dana. Connor,” Kennedy said calmly. “You two are coming with us.”

“I’m not going back,” Dana called.

“And you’re not taking her,” Connor said intensely. He backed up, pressing his back against Dana.

Angel frowned. Connor was ready for tandem fighting on two fronts. He hoped Dana wouldn’t know what to do. “Dana, it won’t be like before,” Angel rasped. “You have my word.”

Dana responded to Angel, but stared straight forward into Spike’s eyes. In a detached voice that seemed almost eerily calm, she whispered. “You will never. Hurt me. Again.”

With her last word, Dana lunged forward, slamming a stake into Spike’s gut. The vampire dropped to his knees, but not front pain. He grabbed Dana’s leg, slamming a needle into it and depressing the plunger. Dana wobbled back.

The two vampires were injured. Dana was slowly going down. It was up to Kennedy to bring in Connor. Angel sighed with relief. She was a slayer. It should be-

Connor shot forward in a flash. Kennedy reflexively back peddled. It was a bad start.

Connor shoved Kennedy hard. The slayer fell backward, but quickly threw both arms forward, up, and out in a butterfly movement. The move knocked the knives from Connor’s hands. Having too much forward momentum to retreat, but needing to get distance, Connor jumped Kennedy and rolled to his feet behind her.

“Get close!” Angel yelled. “He’s quicker, but you’re stronger. Tackle him and don’t let him use his speed.”

Kennedy charged Connor hard. Connor began to tense for a fight, but quickly relaxed. He stood motionlessly, like a dear in headlights. Angel thought Kennedy had him until she screeched in pain. Her momentum pushed her forward and her ankle snapped. Her foot had fallen through a covered hole and was now caught in a steel contraption like a bear trap. The teeth were in deep, nearly severing her foot.

Connor looked at the helpless slayer before him as she frantically tried to pry the trap open. “Thought I left that there,” he said smugly. Connor cocked his fist as if to punch Kennedy, then lowered it. He walked past her lackadaisically, as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

Angel was crawling toward Connor. Spike was a bit further along. He, at least, was on his feet. But he was too slow. Connor fired a quick punch with his right hand. Spike caught it, but the punch was a feint. It distracted Spike from Connor’s left hand, which grabbed the stake in the vampire’s gut. Connor twisted the wooden picket and pulled it from Spike’s chest. The vampire bellowed and dropped to his knees.

Connor casually walked to Dana. She was still fighting to maintain consciousness in the corner. She gazed into Connor’s eyes just before fainting into his arms. Connor caught Dana and lifted her body. He turned once more to smirk at Angel, Spike, and Kennedy, all wounded and writhing on the floor.

He held Dana in his arms as he stood in front of the broken window. He was bathed in light. Spike and Angel couldn’t touch him. Connor jumped from the window to the street below.

*******

“Where the hell were you?” Willow shouted the instant Faith entered the Hyperion lobby.

“Um . . .” Faith motioned toward the sludge on her clothes. “The sewer.”

“We’ve been calling you for hours! Angel found Connor. Dana was with him. Kennedy and Spike went to get her.”

“Couldn’t Connor bring her in?”

“I . . . I don’t know what’s going on, but Connor’s . . . he’s different.”

“What do you mean different?”

“He just beat the crap out of Angel and maybe Dawn.”

“Dana hit Dawn.”

Willow’s face contorted with rage. “And you just left her here? Faith, she has a concussion.”

“Red, I’ve had a bad day. Been fighting and chasing Dana. I’m sore. I’m tired. I smell like shit. Literally. Now, I’m not in the mood for another chick fight, but you yell at me one more time, and I’m knocking your teeth out!”

Willow breathed deeply, trying to relax. “Sorry. A lot’s been going on. We were worried about you. Now with Angel acting all strange and Kennedy thinking Connor beat up Dawn . . .I don’t know. But I guess we should get over there.”

“And Dawn?” Faith asked.

“She needs to come with us. I did some stuff to help her heal faster, but we still need to keep her awake to make sure she doesn’t go comatose.”

********

When Dana’s eyes opened, she saw the sky above Los Angeles at dusk. A cool wind blew through her hair. She rubbed her head, which felt like it had a hang over. She rolled onto her side and looked around to see the L.A. skyline.

A few feet from her, Connor sat on a blanket with his back to her. He was changing his bandages. His shirt was between him and a pile of junk food and soda.

“I got us food,” he said without turning around. “I needed to get some stuff for myself anyway.” He turned and smiled, holding up the bandages.

Dana looked at Connor and giggled slightly ay him. She wasn’t sure why. “We’re on a roof,” she said ecstatically as she sat up.

“Yeah,” Connor said, pulling his shirt on. “We get a better view of the city. Things can’t sneak up on us or catch our scent as easily. We have to go for shelter if it rains, but it hardly ever does. Even then, the rain doesn’t burn like it did in Quar’toth.”

“Is that your home?”

Connor nodded sadly. “It was different there. Things were simpler. More honest. When something wanted to kill you, it tried to kill you. It didn’t . . . I don’t know.”

“Do you want to go back?”

“There’s nothing for me there. There’s nothing really for me here, either. I kind of don’t belong anywhere.”

Dana crawled to Connor and sat next to him. She stared out at the city below. “I like this place. The roof. It’s open and there’s a breeze. I feel like I can be me up here. When I’m in other places, I can’t always do that. Be me.”

Connor was looking at her oddly. He couldn’t understand what she was saying, yet still felt the truth in it. He felt that if he cold decipher the meaning of her words, maybe he could understand some of his own problems. But his effort fell short, and that creeping nihilism returned.

“I want to jump down from here,” he said. “But I worry I wouldn’t die. Maybe I’d just get hurt real bad and Angel would find me and he’d . . . I don’t know what he’d to do me. But he wouldn’t kill me.”

“That’s good.”

Connor shook his head. “Sometimes . . . sometimes I hurt. And I just want to . . .” Connor struggled with the words.

“Die,” Dana said quietly. “I know how that feels.” She leaned her head against Connor’s shoulder. “But not here. I can’t see how anyone would want to die way up here.”

She looked down at the city again. She was so far above ground. Walls were nowhere to be found. “How could anyone have thoughts so ugly in a place as beautiful as this? I think I could be always myself as long as I was in a place like this.”

Connor couldn’t help but smile at Dana. “Can I be you, too?” Connor asked jokingly.

“You don’t want to be me,” Dana answered quietly. “But if I can be me, maybe you can be you.”

“I don’t want to be me either.”

Dana smiled. “You should.”

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