A/N: Some of the lines and scenes from this episode are flashbacks from the Angel episode “Lullaby.”
Suddenly, the sensation ceased abruptly. The vampire feeding on him had been dusted. Connor looked up to see an attractive, dark haired woman holding a stake.
“Hello my darling baby brother,” she said in a British accent. “We meet at last.”
Connor moved around her cautiously, preparing to go for his stake. “Who are you?” he asked in a harsh whisper.
“You know me, my love,” she purred. “I’m daddy’s other child.”
“Drusilla.”
“I see in you such darkness,” she said in a giddy tone. “Darkness enough to cover the world.”
Connor shuddered. He knew there was darkness in him. He’d always felt it. He always knew it was there. What he read had only let him know what was to result from that darkness. Now Drusilla could see it. He knew what it meant. He was of the darkness.
Drusilla pulled Connor to her and kissed him. “There’s so much darkness you’re capable of, my sweet.”
“I know,” Connor said, beginning to cry. “I know.”
“Don’t cry, my love. I’ll show you.”
“I know,” Connor said, remembering the words of his father. Holtz. “The devil will show me pretty things,” Connor whispered.
“Many colors,” Drusilla said, finishing his thought.
†
“So, are we going to talk about that other thing?” Cordelia asked.
“Which other thing?” Angel said.
“How we’re going to make things . . . .work.”
“Oh,” Angel said as he looked over the schematic of L.A.’s sewer system. “Well, I’m kind of in the middle of a Dru hunt at the moment.”
“Got those book you asked for, chief,” Lorne said. Fred followed Lorne into the room looking like a sad puppy. Angel didn’t notice. Gunn seemed aware something was wrong. Wesley, always hyperaware of Fred, knew something was wrong. Cordelia frowned. She was pretty sure she knew what was wrong.
“You want to talk?” Cordy asked quietly.
“Dru hunt,” Fred said.
“Please,” Cordelia said. “If we put our social lives on hold every time there was a crazy vampire running amok, we’d all be celibate.
“We are all celibate,” Wesley said as he flipped quickly through the pages of a watcher’s journal.
“Speak for yourself,” Gunn said.
“Masturbation doesn’t count,” Wesley added, still flipping.
“Oh,” Gunn said. “Never mind.”
†
Connor was smoking a cigarette and Dru was sleeping next to him. He wondered if this meant he had already transformed. Was he already evil? Having sex with a vampire wasn’t good. But he hadn’t hurt anyone else yet.
Drusilla thrashed slightly and started mumbling. “These feelings that I'm having, they're not mine. They're coming from it."
“What?” Connor asked.
“I don't have a soul,” Dru whispered, still sleeping. “It does. And right now that soul is inside of me, but soon, it won't be and then . . . I won't be able to love it. I won't even be able to remember that I loved it.” Dru began weeping in her sleep. “I want to remember."
“Wake up!” Connor yelled, shoving Dru from the bed.
“No!” Drusilla yelled as she woke up. “No! No! No! I don’t want this souled thing inside me. Get it out! Get it out! I’m mummy, now! I sired you!”
“I’m not Spike,” Connor shouted angrily, shoving Drusilla from the bed. “You didn’t sire me!”
Drusilla began crying when she hit the floor. “Why?” she sobbed. “Why is she taunting me?”
Connor stared at Drusilla. He’d heard she was crazy, but didn’t know exactly what that meant until now. “There’s no one here!” he shouted impatiently.
“She’s not in the room, she’s in my head,” Drusilla whined.
“This is stupid,” Connor said. “We should do something bad. Like steal something. We should steal a car. I always wanted to drive, but Gunn would never let me.”
†
Gunn scanned the bookshelf again. “I’m telling you, Wes. It’s not here. It looks like four or five books are missing.”
“Oh,” Wesley said. “Check Connor’s room. He was interested in the history of demon fighting so I gave him those journals to read over. I figured it would be good practice.”
Lorne left the office and headed for Connor’s room.
“I believe I copied some information about Drusilla into my journal during the time we last had dealings with her,” Wes said.
“You know, Wes,” Lorne said as he returned to the office with the journals. “It occurs to me you might have tried giving Connor some different journals to read.”
“Pardon?” Wes said looking up. Angel, too, looked at Lorne. Anything involving his son now warranted Angel’s utmost attention. The last time he ignored the boy, things had ended very badly.
Lorne flipped to a dog eared page. “Fred and I continue to research the Tro-Clon,” Lorne read from Wes’s journal.
“Oh no,” Wesley said.
“Although neither of us have thought of a way we can bring this to Angel’s attention,” Lorne continued. “We cannot help but conjecture that there is at least the possibility that the child Darla is carrying is in fact the being that which will be born of darkness to bring darkness. Fred posits-”
Lorne was cut off by Angel slamming a book down and grabbing his coat.
“Angel-” Cordeila began.
“I can still track him,” Angel said. “But I need to go now before the scent’s gone.”
Fred bit her lip nervously. “We don’t know that Connor read that particular-”
Angel grabbed the journal from Lorne and shoved it in Wesley’s face. “Did you dog ear these pages?”
Wes looked down sullenly. “No.”
Angel dropped the book. “Then we know Connor read it. Damn it!” Angel yelled, kicking the desk. “It’s always something with him!”
“Yeah, dad,” Connor said as he stood grinning in the doorway. “It’s always something.”
“Connor!” Fred said as she ran toward him. Then she saw Drusilla standing in the lobby behind the boy.
“What is it about me?” Connor laughed in a soulless, drained kind of way. “Only evil chicks dig me.”
“That’s not true,” Fred said, filling with a mass of contradictory feelings.
“Get out,” Connor hissed to her. “Everyone but Angel and Wes. This is between the four of us.”
“You’ve been a naughty daddy,” Drusilla mocked. “But you taste like ash. The smart one will be a lovely snack.”
“Maybe we should go,” Gunn said. “We can all go for a ride in my truck while these four work out their issues.”
“You mean the truck with all the weapons in it?” Connor smirked. “Yeah. It’s kind of on fire at the moment, so that won’t work.”
“You burned my truck?” Gunn shouted angrily, moving toward Connor.
Connor quickly punched Gunn, knocking him out cold. Cordelia dove for an axe in the corner. She hit the floor, grabbed the axe, rolled onto her back and pitched the axe to Angel.
Connor moved forward quickly and snatched the axe just before Angel could have grabbed it. He cocked it and readied to swing it at Angel. Angel didn’t move.
“Do it, Connor,” Angel said. “Go ahead. Because, if after all this, you still want me dead, then I’ve failed you as a father. And I deserve what I get.”
Connor’s expression turned sorrowful and his eyes began to tear. “I don’t’ want to,” he sobbed. “But it’s what I am.”
“No it’s not,” a voice came from behind him. Connor turned to face Drusilla. Dru grabbed him and held him as she whispered, “Be in my eyes.” Connor’s eyes lost focus and he dropped his axe as he gazed blankly, as if in a trance. “Be in me,” Dru whispered.
Angel moved to grab Connor away from Dru, but Lorne stopped him. “I understand now,” Lorne said. “Her aura. Angel . . . she’s possessed. She’s possessed by . . .
†
The rain was pouring down in the alley. A building just off the alley was burning. People were talking.
Connor had no idea how he got here. He needed to get back to the hotel. Or maybe he needed to run away. But he couldn’t be here. There was something dreadful in this place. He turned to run, but found himself facing a woman.
Darla grabbed Connor and pulled him into a hug. His arms were slack. He was confused.
“My darling boy,” Darla said as she began to cry. “My darling, darling boy.” She moved back and looked at him. “You’re so handsome. But skinny. God. What is Angel feeding you?”
“What do you want?” Connor whimpered, puling away from her.
“I want to show you something. Something I’ve been trying to tell you about for a long time. But no one seems to be cooperating. Besides, if you’re half as stubborn as Angel, you’ll need to see it with your own eyes.”
Darla nodded to something behind Connor. “Go on,” she said.
Connor was petrified. He didn’t know what specifically was in the alley. But he knew what it was in general. It was truth. Painful truth. Truth that would force him to abandon his self-loathing. As long as he didn’t see it with his own eyes, he could pretend it wasn’t there. But once exposed, he would need to leave the pain and hatred behind. The pain and hatred of his own existence.
The feelings weren’t exactly comforting, but they certainly were familiar. They had been with him as long as he could remember. And he didn’t want to let them go. Soon, though, he knew he’d have to.
“Our baby is gonna die right here in this alley,” Darla said with a desperation that brought sadness even to Connor. It wasn’t the Darla that had hugged him moments ago. It was Darla laying on in alley, pregnant, as Angel kneeled over her.
"I wanna say I'm sorry,” Darla cried. “I wanna say it and mean it, but - I can't.” She looked at Angel. “Aren't you gonna tell me it's okay?"
Angel looked down sadly. “No,” he whispered. Darla couldn’t birth the child. It would suffocate inside her womb.
"No? It's really not, is it?” Darla went on. “We did so many terrible things together. So much destruction, so much pain. We can't make up for any of it. You know that, don't you?"
Angel looked down for a moment, then quietly answered, "Yeah."
"This child,” Darla said, her desperation palpable. “Angel, it's the one good thing we ever did together."
Angel took Darla’s hand and kissed it gently.
"The only good thing,” she said.
Angel nodded, burying his face in his hands while still gripping Darla’s. He cried quietly.
Darla grabbed a splinter of wood laying in the alley. "You make sure to tell him that.”
Before Angel could react, Darla slammed the stake into her heart and burst to dust. The baby boy, like a phoenix, laid on the pile his mother’s ashes.
Angel lifted the baby into his arms.
“This is how I was born,” Connor said, kneeling a foot away from where the image of Angel was lifting the infant version of Connor.
“Moment for moment,” Darla said. “I died because I loved you, Connor. Not because I didn’t.”
Connor shook his head. Darla knelt next to him.
“You weren’t born of darkness to bring darkness,” Darla whispered. “You are the light that came from that darkness.”
“You died for me,” Connor wept.
“To give you life. And I gave that like to you. Not Holtz or Jasmine or some stupid fucking prophecy.” She too began to cry. “I’ve watched all the horror there has been in your life. Even the horrors you’ve done. But you’re still my precious boy. You always will be. So, please, Connor, for me, take this life I gave you and do something beautiful with it.”
Connor gripped Darla’s hand with his own as Angel had done in the vision. He brought it to his cheek and held it there. “I will,” he whispered.
†
Angel, Lorne, Gunn, Cordelia, Wesley, and Fred watched in awe as Drusilla and Connor crawled on the floor of the hotel. From what the pair said, Angel and Fred realized that they’d somehow been reliving Connor’s birth with Drusilla, speaking as though she were Darla, playing some kind of guide.
As Connor brought Drusilla’s hand to his face, a glow emanated from the two of them. It looked exactly the same as when Cordelia had stopped Connor from killing her two and a half years earlier.
Connor dropped to the ground unconscious.
Drusilla looked at Angel. “Try to take better care of our son this time,” she said.
Angel nodded. “I will.”
“I mean, my dying words were to ask you to do me one little favor,” Drusilla said angrily.
“I’m sorry,” Angel said apologetically.
Drusilla looked down at the sleeping Connor. “He really is a miracle, isn’t he?”
“Yeah,” Angel nodded. “He really is.”
Drusilla stepped back and suddenly began scratching at her skin, as if trying to rip it off. “It was inside me. Inside me!” she yelled before running from the hotel.
“We should probably go kill her,” Gunn said.
“Maybe later,” Angel said, scooping Connor into his arms. “Right now, I want to put my son to bed.”
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