“Methadone,” Lorne said a she set the bottle down. “Zoloft. Chocolate bars. And cigarettes. Everything a growing boy needs to kick a heroin habit.”
Connor looked at the items Lorne put in front of him. “I thought the idea was I was supposed to stop using drugs.”
“Well, drugs are like demons,” Lorne said. “They can be good and they can be bad. Of course, even if you use the good ones the wrong way, they can be bad for you. So . . . I suppose drugs are more like magic then demons.”
“I hate magic,” Connor said as he sniffled.
Lorne nodded nervously. “Right. Well . . . I’m running out of analogies.”
“Loren, I don’t want my son smoking,” Angel said.
“It’ll help, Angel cakes. I wouldn’t suggest it otherwise.”
“This sucks,” Connor said. “I don’t’ want to be here anymore. I want to go.”
From the moment he set foot in the door, Connor was ill at ease. The slayers seemed to eye him like they wanted to rip his lungs out. This was the kid he beat Faith and left her to die on a rooftop. To top it off, he was upset at returning to a place with so many bad memories. He was still feeling depressed.
“Don’t look at it as a defeat, Connor,” Fred said, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder. Gunn frowned as she did. Whether they were friends or lovers, Gunn didn’t want her that close to a psycho.
“This is really strong, what you’re doing,” Fred went on. “Really brave.”
Connor smiled slightly and gave a stifled laugh. Fred’s hand on his shoulder sent tingling through his body. He tried to remember if he’d taken X recently. Was it chemicals coursing through her veins that made her touch so soothing?
“Connor,” Angel began uncomfortably. “How would you feel . . . . I mean, would you be comfortable or . . . or ready to see maybe . . .”
“Cordy?” Connor guessed.
“Yeah,” Angel said.
Connor nodded. “It’s okay. Yeah. Yeah, I’d be okay.”
Angel stepped out of the room and returned an instant later with Cordy.
“Hey,” she said uncomfortably.
“Hey,” Connor answered.
“So, I was thinking,” Cordelia said. “Remember how you tried to attack me once and I drained you of all your anger and hatred and Quar’Toth ickyness?”
Connor laughed quietly and nodded.
“I thought maybe I could give that a go for this stuff.”
Connor shrugged and sat back.
Cordelia put her hand son Connor’s chest and began concentrating. The two of them occasionally pulsed white. Eventually, Cordelia back away, gasping for breath. Connor leaned forward and looked at the ground uncomfortably. Neither said anything.
“Well?” Lorne said.
“I don’t know,” Cordy said. “I think I can’t only handle supernatural contaminants. But . . .”
“What?” Angel asked on edge.
“It’s all still in there,” Cordy said. “Quar’Toth. That pain. It’s all mixed in with the rest and I can’t . . . I don’t know how to explain it. I can’t get at it and pick it out.”
“But if we got him cleaned up?” Lorne asked. “Drug wise.”
“I think I might be able to do something,” Cordy said. She looked at Connor uncomfortably for a moment, then turned away. “This is awkward.”
“No, it’s okay,” Connor said. “I’m . . . I’m sorry about before. I didn’t understand. Holtz and other people always made it seem like sex was supposed to be this big thing that bound people together. But now I get it. It’s just . . . a thing. It’s just something people do to be nice to each other. I didn’t mean to make it out to be more than it was supposed to be.”
“Connor, sex is supposed to be special,” Cordy said. “I treated you like that because I didn’t treat you like that. It wasn’t me. It was an evil force that took over my body.”
“What?!” Connor said angrily. “So you’re saying you didn’t care? That you wouldn’t . . . unless you were evil? Only evil things would want me?”
“Cordy, maybe you shouldn’t . . .” Angel shrugged, struggling to find the word. “Talk.”
“So . . . I’m thinking maybe it’s a good idea to get Connor an AIDS test,” Lorne said nervously.
Fred gasped audibly and squeezed Connor’s shoulder.
Gunn laughed. “Don’t worry, man. Just cuz our boy’s willing to go out and screw whoever doesn’t mean he found girls willing to shack up with him. He was only gone a couple weeks.”
“Can we have a minute?” Angel asked. The others filed out of the room uncomfortably. Angel squatted and stood and looked at Connor eye to eye. “While you were gone, there were girls? More than just Naomi?”
Connor shook his head. “Naomi and me . . . we never . . . guess she wasn’t evil,” he said sullenly.
“But there were others. How many?”
Connor shrugged. “I don’t know. Six or seven.”
Angel sighed and looked down. Between the IV drugs and loose women . . . “Connor, I’m going to ask Wesley to draw some of your blood.”
“Why?” Connor asked with as smirk. “You hungry?”
Angel gritted his teeth and looked down. “I need him to look at it and see if . . . see if you’re sick.”
“I used condoms,” Connor said. “And my own needles. Naomi exp--”
“That’s good,” Angel said. “But we want to be sure, right?”
“Yeah,” Connor said. “I guess so.”
**
“Faith wants to talk to him,” Buffy said.
“That doesn’t sound like a great idea,” Angel said. He was preoccupied with Fred and Wesley, who were preparing to draw blood from Connor and see if he’d contracted any STD’s.
“I said talk, not pummel,” Buffy said. “It’s not as if she’s in a position to hurt him anyway.”
“We want him to go through a recovery program,” Lorne said. “Is there a whole lot of harm in letting him skip ahead to Step Eight for one person?”
“Step eight?” Angel looked at Lorne.
“Asking forgiveness of people you wronged. And god knows our boy has a lot of that to do. Getting Faith out of the way up front might help.”
“I’ll let him decide,” Angel said, figuring that was the only way out of the conversation without agreeing.
“Fair enough,” Buffy said.
***
“Just pump your fist and--”
“I know how to get a vein, Wesley,” Connor said.
“Oh,” Wesley said, nodding. “Of course.”
Wesley slid the needle in slowly and carefully. “Fred,” Wesley said as he slowly pulled the plunger back, drawing blood into the needle. “I thought I might ask you about um, well, I happened to have come across some tickets to the ballet. Completely non-demonic, of course. I had t checked out.”
Connor felt waves of conflicting feelings rush over him. He felt a sickness in his stomach he attributed to the drawing of blood at first. Then he realized the needle felt almost pleasant. This feeling reminded him of something else.
Cordelia. When Cordelia went back to Angel after kissing him, he felt sick like this. Jealous. But of what?
Connor felt his body stir. Wesley mentioned the ballet and Connor remembered the picture of Fred and the others Lorne took before they went to the ballet when he was a baby. Her hair up, no eye glasses, exposed shoulders and her long, beautiful neck.
Blood rushed out of Connor’s arm while simultaneously rushing to his penis. The sensation of all this life fluid rushing away from his heart felt almost like and orgasm. He could swear that he could track the movement of each drop of blood. Or maybe it was the heroin. Maybe all of this was the heroin.
“Um . . . can we talk about this when you’re not sticking a needle in someone’s arm?” Fred asked.
Connor had the distinct feeling he was angry at Wesley for something. He leaned back and sighed deeply, feeling an overwhelming sense of peace.
“Let me split this into a few samples for you to check,” Wesley said.
“Sure,” Fred said as she knelt down by Connor’s chair and bandaged his arm.
Wesley left the room with the needle.
“Thanks,” Connor said, giggling slightly. “You were always so nice to me.”
“Yeah,” Fred said. “Right up until I tazered you.”
“Even after,” Connor said. His voice was mildly slurred. “I’d hear you in the hotel, sticking up for me.”
Connor brushed a strand of hair out of Fred’s face. She glanced up to say thanks and found Connor staring deeply into her eyes. They stared at each other for a moment, just breathing heavily and looking into each other’s eyes.
“I should go,” Fred said.
“Okay,” Connor whispered, sounding almost stoned.
****
Angel sat on the edge of Cordy’s bed. “Sorry about earlier.”
“When it comes to your son, you’ve always been a bit out of your mind.”
“I’m trying to get things in my life back in order,” Angel said. “All the things in my life. A year and a half ago I had this idea of how it’d be. I don’t think I can go back there, but . . . I want to get as close as I can.”
“Probably for the best you didn’t get everything you wanted,” Cordy laughed. “You know how that always turns out.”
“When . . . when you and Groo were going to . . . you know. Comshok--”
“You would bring that up.”
“I’m just saying, remember we got something that allowed you to keep your visions?”
Cordy nodded. “And you think you might be able to get something that’ll let you keep your soul if we . . . Comshok.”
“If I’m not being too presumptuous!” Angel added frantically.
“What about . . . do you think he’d . . . if I’m not being too presumptuous.”
Cordy smiled.
“I don’t know how over you he is, Cordy. But it has to happen. Connor needs some help with a lot of things. But he also needs to grow up and get used to other people living their lives. And I want to live my life with you. Still. I want both of you in my life. In very different roles, obviously.”
“Obviously. I don’t know. Let’s give him some time and then . . . we’ll talk to him.”
“That’d be nice.”
Cordy raised an eyebrow. “You think talking to Connor about you and I having sex is going to be nice?”
Angel was flustered. “Well, no, I suppose the . . . the talk itself will be . . . not nice. But, the hopeful result is . . . nicer . . . than the talk itself.”
*****
While Angel and Cordy talked and Fred checked Connor’s blood, Wes, Gunn, and Buffy said their good byes.
“Faith will be in good hands,” Wesley said.
“I hope so,” Buffy answered. “Giles has this big plan for global domination. But in a good way. Anyway, I’m done with the planning bit. I’m going to go somewhere warm. Maybe the Mediterranean.”
“Might I suggest Spain,” Wesley said. “It’s quite nice this time of year.”
“Spain?” Buffy said. “I was thinking Italy but . . . I don’t know. Spain sounds nice. Plus, Habla Espanish.”
“I think you meant to say Hablo Espanol,” Dawn corrected Buffy in a weak voice as she came down the stairs. A couple slayers had her luggage despite the Key’s protests that she was “strong as a . . . you know . . . those horned cows.”
“Don’t worry,” Wes said, pulling down the neck of his shirt to show his own scar. “You’ll be fine. I have one just like it.”
“You mean I’m like Wesley now,” Dawn croaked. “This is so humiliating.”
“Alright, come on Freddy Kruger, Jr.,” Buffy said, taking Dawn’s arm. “Cab’s waiting.”
“Don’t you want to say bye to Angel?” Wes asked.
“We’ve never been goof at good byes,” Buffy said. “We’d probably just stare at each other wordlessly across the burning remains of a . . . something.”
“Sounds about right,” Wesley said. He hesitantly hugged Buffy. “Take care of yourself.”
“Take care of Faith,” Buffy answered.
As Buffy left, Fred rushed out of the ground floor rooms that she was gradually converting to a lab. “Wesley, you have to see this!”
“What is it? Does he have something?”
“No, he . . . you just have to see.”
Wes and Gunn followed Fred to her makeshift lab. “Look at this,” she said indicating a monitored attached to a microscope.
“Looks like he’s healthy,” Wes said. “Slightly low white blood cell count, but nothing to worry about. Especially after ten days of non stop drug and alcohol abuse.”
“Yeah,” Gunn agreed, though he clearly had no idea what he was looking at.
“Now watch this,” Fred said. “I’m introducing Salmonella to the sample.”
Wesley watched as the bacteria was introduced to the sample and immediately overwhelmed by white blood cells that appeared, swallowed the infectious agent, and disappeared in an instant.
“My god,” Wesley whispered.
“This is E. Coli,” Fred said, adding something else to the blood sample. The same result ensued.
“What is it?” Gunn asked.
“Connor’s blood instantly produces extraordinary levels of white blood cells when faced with an infectious agent,” Wesley said.
“So?” Gunn said. “I thought that’s normal.”
“Not outside the body,” Fred said. “And especially not in the absence of marrow, which is what produces white blood cells.”
“I thought the doctors said Connor’s blood was normal,” Wes said.
“They didn’t test it against bacteria and viruses,” Fred said. “They just ran a typical analysis and saw his levels were normal.” She removed something from a freezer and looked at them nervously. “Now, don’t get angry at me, but I kinda stole some stuff from the Wolfram & Hart lab.”
“Good for you!” Gunn laughed.
Fred dropped a virus into the blood. Instantly, a series of blackish colored cells multiplied wildly and overtook the new agent present in the blood, then disappeared.
“What was that?” Wesley asked.
“HIV,” Fred said. “Even if Connor was exposed . . .” She shrugged.
“It couldn’t infect,” Wesley said, amazed.
“You stole AIDS form Wolfram & Hart!” Gunn said.
“I wanted to play with it,” Fred said like a petulant child.
“One day that big brain of yours is going to get you in trouble,” Gunn said.
“Like when those math demons tried to chop my head off?
“I was thinking more like the trouble you get yourself into,” Gunn said. “But that wasn’t a horrible example.”
******
Lorne walked him to the door, but Connor went in alone.
“Hey,” Connor said, sitting at her bedside. “How’s your recovery going?”
“Fast,” Faith answered. “Lot faster then when Buffy threw me off a roof.”
“Sorry about that,” Connor said, looking down ashamedly.
“No big,” Faith said. “You have to close one door before another can open.”
“No you don’t,” Connor said.
“It’s metaphorical,” Faith said. “It means you have to put shit behind you before you can move on.”
“Lorne’s magic metaphor was better.”
“Listen, kid, the thing is this. I know what you’re going through. I killed some innocent people in my time and have to live with that. And when I was a kid . . . well, before I was a slayer, I had some habits, too.”
“Habits?” Connor said. “Like biting your nails?”
“Like shooting H,” Faith said. “I talked to Giles and I’m going to talk to Angel. Point is, if you want, I can stay here and be like your sponsor.”
“Sponsor?”
“Yeah,” she said. “The person who kicks your ass if you ever try drugs again. It’s not what traditional sponsors do, but I got my own ways. You’ll get used to them. Point is, I’m not going anywhere. Neither is Angel. Or Lorne. Or any of us. When I was a kid, my mother was so wasted herself she didn’t have time to give two shits about me. But you got a hotel full of people who are all about getting you better. So whatever happened before is before. Can’t do anything about it and I’m sure you had your reasons. But as of now, if you go shoot up, you got no excuses.”
“You are going to kick my ass,” Connor said with a grin.
“Did it once already.”.
“Yeah. After the super coma shot you full of strength. Last time I beat you like Heremepet.”
“Heremepet?” Faith said quizzically.
“It’s a thing in Quar’Toth that was real easy to beat up,” Connor said, throwing his hands up in frustration.
“Last time we fought, you were so stoned you couldn’t even feel when I punched you. You didn’t kick my ass. A cranked up super junky kicked my ass.”
“I could totally take you,” Connor smirked.
“Tell you what. You stay clean and I’ll get healthy, then we’ll spar. Deal?”
“Cool.”
“Connor,” Lorne said from the hallway. “I think your dad and Cordelia want to talk to you, too.”
Connor looked over his shoulder. “Tell him if it’s about the two of them wanting to have sex, I already know.”
“You do?!” Angel called from down the hall.
“Super hearing,” Connor called back. “Remember?”
Cordelia poked her head through the door. “How . . . how do you feel about that?”
Connor turned back to Faith and looked down. “Not great,” he said. “But I think I’ll get over it.”
Lorne looked at Cordy with a smile. “See? It’s all sunshine and smiles form here on out.”
The Lounge
“Okay,” Lorne said to his imaginary crowd in the lounge. “So I’m an idiot.”
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