Buffy had seen Angel experience pure happiness. She could only imagine what she saw now was pure despair. His eyes filled with tears. He opened his mouth to scream and wail with all his strength, yet couldn’t generate any sound, as if his will to do anything at all had been sapped. Screeching silently, Angel collapsed to his knees and gripped the sheets from the bed. He clutched them to him if they were the robes of some god or demon that could give him his son back. Without warning, Angel bolted for the door, trying to throw himself into the sunlight.
“No!” Buffy shouted, blocking him like an offensive lineman and trying to drive him back into the room. “Angel, no!”
“What is it?” Xander shouted running into the room. Seeing the struggle he assumed Angel was attacking Buffy. “Help!” he yelled, throwing his weight onto the wrestling couple and helping Buffy drive Angel to the ground. The others ran into the room.
“I gave everything for him!” Angel shouted. “Everything. There’s nothing left. Just let me do this and be done!”
“No!” Buffy shouted.
Kennedy and Willow came into the room. With the other slayer’s help, she wrestled him to the ground and held him down. She tried to hug him, but he shoved her off.
“Don’t do that! Don’t you dare try to comfort me! You did this.”
“Whoa,” Xander said. “If you’d come to us earlier-”
“You’d have what, Xander?! Discussed it in a committee for an hour longer while my son still cut his wrists?”
“Angel,” Buffy said pleadingly. She was angry, but more frightened than anything. Frightened that Angel thought this of them. Frightened he might be right.
“You never cared for rules that didn’t suit you,” Angel said. “Rules you’d break for your friends, you had to play out so you could get revenge on me for Connor and Darla. Well done, Buffy. The price of my betrayal of your school girl crush has been the only child I can ever have.”
Angel looked up at those gathered in his room. “Get out,” he said coldly. “All of you get out.”
*
Endless white. White walls. White doors. White ceiling, and floor. Furniture painted white and white sheets on the bed. A white chair in the middle of the room.
Jack Mason brought a welcome change of color into the room. Grey suit, black shoes, red tie, manila folders. He sat in the white chair.
“What happened?” Connor asked groggily.
“You died,” Mason said, tossing one of the folders onto the bed. Pictures of Connor’s dead body fell out of the folder. “Check out the last picture.”
Mason pulled a photo of an urn out of the pack and slapped it down in Connor’s lap. “See that urn? That’s where we put your ashes. The human body in over eighty percent water. Cook all that away, you don’t really have all that much left. It’s creepy how all that a human being is can fit in a vase that’s not even as long as your forearm, huh?”
Connor looked at the photo, surprised. But from what he knew of physiology, Mason was probably right. “So . . . this is hell?”
“This is Nevada,” Mason laughed. “Area 51. I know. You thought this is where we kept aliens and flying saucers, right?”
“I didn’t think anything. I’ve never heard of this place.”
“It’s where we keep our special projects. Demon research. Invisible girls. And humans with unique physical prowess. For example, you. We were planning to fake your suicide anyway. Really a pain in the ass how you jumped the gun on that. Scared the shit out of us.”
“What do you want with me?”
“It’s not what I want. It’s what your country wants.”
Connor stared at Mason confused.
“Yeah,” Mason said. “They told me you were kind of a space cadet.”
“I’m not from space!” Connor said angrily. “I’m from Quar’Toth.”
“Really?” Mason said. He flipped open one of the folders in his hand. “Nothing about that in your file. Then again, information on your background is kind of shabby. We’ll have to have someone from HR come down here and get all that information from you.”
“Why?”
“You’re going to work for us.”
“What if I don’t want to work for you?”
Mason stood and walked to the door. He glanced back at Connor. “See that urn? It’s creepy how all that a human being is can fit in a vase that’s not even as long as your forearm, huh?”
*
“So why didn’t we just let Angel torch himself again?” Xander joked.
“Shut up. Xander,” Buffy said coldly.
Willow put a hand on Xander’s shoulder and squeezed, letting him know it wasn’t time for joking. “Connor’s dead, Xander.”
A look of sympathy and sadness flashed across Xander’s face.
“It was unjust of him to blame you, Buffy,” Giles added calmly.
“No it wasn’t.” Buffy wiped her face with her hand to dry it. She hadn’t actually cried for close to an hour. But when she had cried, she’d cried so hard that periodically wiping her face had become a habit. “I’d dreamt of us. Back together. Having children of our own. When I heard about him and Darla, I was so angry. I wanted to punish him so badly. That’s why I insisted on the formalities. I never dreamt that the result would be . . . this.”
Willow shook her head. “Buffy, you remember Psych class with Dr. Walsh. Suicide is a self motivated thing. It happened because Connor was unhappy.”
“Even had we left upon hearing of Connor capture,” Giles interjected. “It’s unlikely we’d have reached Connor before he . . . acted.”
“But we’ll never know for sure. There’ll always be the chance that we could have saved him. That I could have saved him.”
*
“I thought I was supposed to fight someone?” Connor said as he stepped into the seemingly empty room.
Connor was slammed in the back of the head. He spun to see who’d hit him, but no one was there. Then he took two more punches to the face. He threw his hand up blindly and was lucky to block a third punch. A kick nailed him in the chest and Connor was knocked on his back.
Connor rolled back and closed his eyes. He opened them again quickly. He ducked twice, then lunged forward and to his right. He grabbed something he could feel but not see and slammed it into the wall.
“How did you find me?” a girl’s voice asked as she struggled to get free.
“You breathe,” Connor answered angrily.
“Great job,” Mason said as he stepped into the room. “Connor, meet Marcie Ross. She’s one of your fellow agents. Been on the job about . . . what is it now? Five years?”
“I completed my training in 2000, sir,” Marcie answered.
“Marcie’s a lot like you, Connor. You can learn a lot from her.”
“She’s invisible,” Connor said in a petulant tone, as if to say I have nothing in common with her.
“Exactly. She has a natural talent for stealth. But as you just remarked, she breathes. There are things that can give away her presence. She can teach you to mask those things and make you undetectable.”
Connor raised his eyebrows. “Cool.”
Two Months Later
“You’re overreacting.” Dawn grabbed the suitcase and dragged it back toward the closet.
“I’m burned out, Dawn,” Buffy said as she pried the suitcase from Dawn’s hand. “I’m sick of this. Of all of it. The fighting. The turmoil. The life and death decisions. I’ve done it longer than any other slayer in history and damn it, I want a break! I deserve a break.”
“A break, fine. But you’re talking about quitting, not breaking.”
“You know as well as I the toll this job takes, Dawnie.”
Dawn’s cell phone vibrated and she rolled her eyes. “To be continued,” she told Buffy before answering the phone.
“Dawn, it’s Giles. I just got an interesting phone call. You know your friend Janice?”
“If she’s my friend, then, yes. I obviously know her.”
“Quite so. Of course. She just contacted me and asked me what classes one should pursue if one were interested in being a watcher. Oddly enough, I’d never considered that question. Do you have any thoughts on that matter?”
As Dawn spoke with Giles, Buffy continued packing. It had been close two months since she’d lost Connor. Others had tried to downplay her responsibility, but she’d always think of it that way. She had lost Connor.
“Oh my god,” Buffy gasped as she looked out the window. She had no idea what he was doing in Los Angeles, let alone the porch roof of the house where she and Dawn were staying. She quickly read the note he was holding. Don’t Talk! House Bugged! Downstairs.
Buffy ran past Dawn, down the stairs, and out the front door. “Riley!” she whispered as he approached her. “What are you doing here?”
Riley led her away from the house. “I talked to Giles. He told me about Connor. About who he is.”
“You mean who he was,” Buffy corrected him.
Riley glanced around nervously. “Buffy, if the government ever found out I told you about this-”
“What?!” She could barely even hope there was some catch. Some way to get Connor back and redeem herself in Angel’s eyes.
“Every once in a while, our Special Ops group identifies someone as a person of interest. A potential agent.”
“And they did that to Connor?”
“I can’t be sure. But just after Connor committed suicide, Special Ops got an increase in funding equal to that necessary for an additional trainee.”
“Connor.”
“I can’t be sure!” he repeated. “If I access the file and then the kid disappears, it’ll raise eyebrows.”
“You mean we could get him back.”
Riley looked up and paced nervously. “I could help you infiltrate Area 51.”
“Where they keep the aliens?”
“Where they keep special projects. If Connor’s there, I can help you get him out. I trained there before they sent me to the Initiative. I know my way around.”
“Why would you do this? You could get fired or court marshaled or . . . I don’t know. Something else bad.”
“What they’re doing is wrong. Guys who volunteer for Special Ops, okay. But basically kidnapping a kid out of a jail cell-”
“Rather than letting him stay there and face the death penalty?”
“You want this kid back or not?”
“Sorry. And thank you. I know how you feel about Angel.”
“The kid doesn’t belong in jail either. Of all the people in the world who might be able to figure out what to do with Connor, figure out what he deserves, I trust you to do it best.”
Buffy smiled. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me in a long time.”
“Really? Must have been a rough year.”
“You have no idea.”
*
“Mister Giles?”
Giles turned to see the young woman standing behind him. “Um, yes. Janice, isn’t it?”
“Right. I . . . you . . . we spoke on the phone.”
“Yes. As I told you, we are, of course, in need of watchers. However, we tend to try to pick people who have some measure of experience or expertise in the supernatural. You don’t really seem to fit that bill, so to speak.”
“I spent sixteen years in Sunnydale and didn’t get eaten. Doesn’t that count for something?”
*
“I still say we should call Angel,” Dawn said.
“I don’t want to get his hopes up,” Buffy explained. “We don’t even know if the kid in Area 51 is actually Connor.” She stepped into the makeshift war room they’d set up in a rented garage in Nevada. Xander, Giles, Willow, Kennedy, and Andrew were waiting there for her and Dawn. “What have you got, army boy?”
Xander pointed to a schematic displayed on a large screen. “From what Riley provided, this place is secure. Like really, really secure. They’re used to dealing with the supernatural, so magic alone isn’t going to do it.”
“Rats,” Willow said.
“Don’t worry, Will,” Xander said nervously. “You’ll be involved. They have a lot of mystical barriers that you and Giles will need to work on.”
“Xander,” Buffy interrupted. “Are you up for going in?”
“I’m a male in my twenties,” Xander said. “I’m always up.”
“Don’t be gross,” Buffy said. “And suit up. You, Kennedy, and I will penetrate.”
“Now who’s being gross?” Xander joked.
“Oh,” Dawn get it. “Always up. I get it now.”
“Are you happy?” Buffy asked.
“She’s old enough to be in on the dirty jokes, Buff,” Xander said.
“She is rather mature and comely,” Andrew interjected.
“Thank you,” Dawn said. “And ewww.”
“Willow,” Buffy continued, ignoring the exchange. “I’ll need you on the inside with us in case they have witches inside. Giles and Andrew will maintain the perimeter and make sure they don’t . . . I don’t know. Close a magic gate or something.”
“They can do that?” Willow said in an admiring voice.
“When do we roll?” Xander asked.
“Tonight,” Buffy said.
“Buffy,” Giles said, raising a hand. “There will be one other person on the team. After review by Andrew, Willow, and me, we’ve decided to accept Dawn’s friend Janice as a watcher in training. She’ll be assisting with the rescue.”
“You think it’s a good idea to bring a newbie?” Buffy asked.
“Ordinarily no, but we could use the help. She’ll mostly be doing spell prep.”
“Fine,” Buffy said grumpily. “Whatever.”
*
Mason finished the last of the work that was urgent for that night. The rest would have to wait for the morning. It was three in the morning and he was dead tired.
Mason stepped into his bedroom. He spun immediately when he heard the pistol cock, but he was dealing with someone faster than he was.
Connor grabbed Mason by the head and slammed him into the wall.
“How the hell did you get in here?!” Mason shouted.
“You should know. You taught me how.”
“Didn’t realize you were that quick a learner.”
“I’ve been holding back a little.” Connor grabbed Mason and walked him toward the front door. “Thanks for the training and everything. These past couple months have been really fabulous. But I decided I don’t want to work for you. And that urn option, I decided not to go that way either.”
“You’ll never get off this base without authorization, Connor. As good as you are, we have too many precautions in place.”
“That’s where you come in.” Connor put a pistol to Mason’s head. “You’re going to let me out.”
“Nice try, kid. But I can’t. Even as the senior officer on staff, I alone can’t check someone out without two other signatories.”
“Then make someone else help me.”
“They won’t.”
“I’ll kill you,” Connor hissed.
“I know you can, Connor. But if you do, and you’ll never get out of here.”
Connor looked at Mason and sighed. Without warning, he head-butted Mason, knocking the man unconscious. Connor grabbed another pistol from Mason’s bedside table and headed for the door.
*
Buffy and her team made it to the perimeter at about three in the morning. Willow began chanting, preparing to check for magical shields and defenses. No sooner had she breathed her first syllable when the alarms began ringing.
“Already!” Buffy shouted.
“Wow!” Andrew said. “These guys are good!”
“Do not praise the bad guys, Andrew” Xander said, as he looked through his binoculars.
“What’s that sound?” Kennedy asked.
“Gunfire,” Xander answered.
“They’re shooting at us?” Willow asked.
“No,” Xander answered. “There’s action behind the fence. Looks like someone else had a mind to bust in here tonight.” Through the binoculars, Xander saw a boy leap over the electric wire perimeter fence.
“What was that?” Buffy asked, seeing a human form drop to the ground outside the fence.
“Connor,” Xander answered. “He’s out.”
*
“Colonel Mason,” a soldier shouted as he pulled the unconscious man from the ground.
Mason woke up as his body was flopped onto the bed. “What happened?”
“I was going to ask you, sir.”
“Reilly,” Mason said. “Connor Reilly. He’s trying to escape.”
“We have him contained, sir.”
“Colonel Mason” the intercom squawked. “Subject 97 just jumped the perimeter fence”
“Call out the choppers,” Mason shouted.
“That perimeter fence is twenty feet high!” the soldier in Mason’s room protested. “The kid can’t jump more than eight feet!”
“When we catch him, you be sure to tell him that,” Mason snapped. He got to his feet and headed into the hallway.
“How’d he manage a twenty foot leap?”
“What are you, slow? When we were working him out, he was holding back. He wanted us to underestimate him; his strength, his speed. He’s been planning this escape from the beginning.”
“Major Simmons ordered us to shoot to kill,” the soldier said.
“I want him alive!” Mason shouted.
*
The choppers and jeeps swept the area, but there was no trace. No footprints in the sand. No drops of sweat or blood on the two roads that lead to the base. Mason wasn’t surprised Connor had escaped with such stealth. After all, the boy had learned from the best.
“Do we put out an APB?” Major Simmons asked.
“Of course,” Mason said. “We go public that a convicted terrorist who killed himself in his jail cell escaped from our top secret military facility. That’s a brilliant idea.”
“Then what do we do?”
“Search L.A.. He’ll head for familiar territory.”
Miles away, Connor rode in the back of a garbage truck. The mysterious escape was actually pretty simple. He’d jumped the fence and made a great display of his escape. Then he’d snuck back into the gate and climbed in the back of a jeep. Folding his body double, he hid in a large tool and supply bin in the back. When the jeep was deployed, Connor was taken miles from the base’s perimeter, as the jeep searched for him. Eventually, he climbed out of the bin and dropped to the ground.
Now, Connor needed to find a town where he could find a train or a bus or anything. Anything that could get him back to L.A.
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