Playmates
The scrolls, the prophecies; they were right. All of them. Even Sahjhan, who thought he was writing a false prophecy...even he was right. And here I am; an ill-used tool just as he was. Or just a fool. A silent fool; I can't even tell anyone. No one would believe me.
Well, that's not really true. I could tell Lilah all about it, and she'd set a team of researchers on it immediately to check the story. Wolfram and Hart would love to know all about it, I'm sure...but I still want good to win the final battles. It's what I've worked for, what I've believed in, all my life...and though times are tough right now, I'm not that far gone. My training as a Watcher has actually prepared me for this rather well. Watchers have the Council to fall back on, of course, but theirs is mostly a lonely fate. Ours, I should say.
In any case, mine is to watch the prophecies play out (silently, alone), and to try to be in a good place to help out the right side at the right time.
It's hard, though. I watch the Destroyer, stealing away Cordelia's will and confidence, stealing away Angel's hope of love. The slugs predicted him, right enough...we just none of us thought that it was Connor. Not even me, when Gunn told me about it. We should have seen it...as quickly as he despatched the monster, that he was the one they meant. But even then, he was destroying our sense. Clouding our minds. I thought that because I wasn't there, a part of the group anymore, that I was seeing more clearly. What a fool I was!
I thought that because he came to me, because he touched me...well, it doesn't bear thinking about. I've been an utter fool. Seduced by the Destroyer, a tool of the Powers (or simply of the prophecies...one can never be certain). Even my memories of him, in hindsight, are tinged with bitterness.
It wasn't long after he got here that he sought me out. Only natural, really...he knew that Angel hated me, and that I was, however unwittingly, one of the reasons that Holtz was able to leap with him into the Quortoth. And as much as he hated Angel, he thought I might help to kill him. The whole sordid business began there, really.
Connor suddenly appeared in the doorway of the office I'd been using. It was in a seedier part of LA, near some of the old docks in a suitably seedy warehouse. I had opened the door to let some of the afternoon sunlight stream in. It was a small thing that I found to enjoy in my new life...that I could enjoy sunlight without worrying about Ang...well, without worrying about it.
Suddenly he was there, lean and wiry in the afternoon light. Of course I knew who he was...how could I not? I'd even guessed why he was there. What I hadn't expected was that he'd be so...young. Desperate and appealing. Needy.
"Come in" I said, and gestured to the seat in front of my desk. He sat. "I know who you are" he said "and I know what you did when I was a baby. I know you think it was wrong, but it was the only right thing to have done...to let Holtz raise me to know what kind of evil I was spawned of, and how to fight it. I came to say thank you."
Gods, are all teenagers so dramatic? Of course they are. I fought a smile and said quietly "Angel isn't evil anymore. He has a soul now. It makes a difference."
An arrogant, disbelieving look was forthcoming. "I don't care what you say...he's an evil creature and he deserves to die! You're not going to help me, are you?"
"No, I'm not".
"Fine. I'll just do it myself. My real father taught me all I need to know, I don't need you anyway." Dramatically (of course) he panthered out of the office and into the sinking sunlight. The boy definitely had a knack for theatrical timing.
The next time I saw him was at home; some time after he'd sunk Angel. He didn't know I had Justine just steps away, in a soundproofed closet. She'd been sure he'd find her and rescue her...but he never even looked. I know, I'd been watching him since I'd taken her. Watching, hoping to gain some further clue to where exactly Angel was. It was useless of course. Even with Justine's...help...the way Angel was really found was with tedious searching, week after week. Still, I'd watched him grow from a scared, overacting kid to the confident predator I saw in front of me now. I liked the change.
And I didn't realize how much he saw of that.
He said, "I came to apologize".
I just looked at him, my brows raised.
"I know you were his friend. I know you were trying to help him when you did what you did." He came closer, and I could seen the fine lines of muscle in his face, in his arms. I remembered what he had done to Angel.
"I can't see that it's any business of yours, really, Connor. Now, why are you here?"
"I just...wanted to talk to you. About him. About what he was like, really".
It was hard to remember that this earnest face, these pleading eyes, were the same that had watched coldly as Angel sank to the bottom of the ocean. The same that continued to lie to Gunn and Fred even now.
"Please", he said. Again, I just looked at him for a bit. He dropped his head into his hands as he slumped on my sofa.
Almost against my own will, I moved to touch his shoulder...and he leaned into the hand I offered. I was moved, despite my knowledge...because what young man hasn't done things he hasn't thought completely through... and not known how to set things clear again? And what young man hasn't wondered and hoped that his father was a good man? Perhaps a bit of compassion would get him to open up...get him to talk to me and tell me Angel's whereabouts. I just couldn't let on that I knew. Er...that he knew, I mean.
I sighed and stepped away, then moved to sit beside him.
"Angelus...that's the generally accepted name for the demon held at bay by Angel's soul...was, with Darla, one of the most heinous fiends to ever rise. He...no, they were cruel beyond words, toying with peoples' lives and their deaths...and it all came to a halt over the gypsy girl. Darla brought the girl to him, you know. Why they didn't curse her, I don't know...but it all came down on him. Of course, she lost her favorite playmate in the deal...but she didn't suffer the way that he did when the soul came crashing in on him. Or rather, when the memory of what he had done came crashing in on his newly aquired soul."
I paused to look at him...to see how he was taking the information. He stared at me intently, looking like he wanted to suck the words out of my mouth, anything to get more information. The intensity alarmed me a little. I glanced down, then went on.
"Ever since that time he's been miserable. Sure, a few years ago, Whistler found him, living on rats, and gave him a way that he might try to undo the evil he'd done...or stop more of it from happening, or ... something. From what I understand, Angel would have done nearly anything at that point just to have a shred of redemption...of rest from reliving the horrors, over and over again, of what he'd done."
I glanced at the clock...it was getting towards time to take Justine out in the boat. To search, again, through miles and miles of water. For what had been my friend.
"Please don't stop telling me", said Connor. "It's getting late, Connor, and I've got work to do in the early morning". He looked at the floor.
"It's just...when you talk about him, I can almost see him". Still not using the name...Angel. Or father. I imagine it had to be a difficult choice what to call this guy he'd suddenly met a few months ago...after what seemed a lifetime of believing that same guy a monster. He put his hand on my leg. "Please, tell me just a little more, Wesley".
I took a deep breath. "I can't" I told him. "I've really got to get to bed now. But come back in a couple Tuesday afternoon...I should have a little more time then, and I can tell you more, about Angel". I watched his face as I said it. Not a wince betrayed him. He just looked at me, still so earnest..."Okay", he said, and then grinned. "But I will be back on Tuesday for more".
The little snot was flirting with me! I was sure of it. I saw him out the door, then stood in front of Justine's closet for a few long moments. I really didn't feel up to going out on the water tonight. I turned away and went to bed, oddly exhausted and exhilarated at once... and dreamed of Connor's visit on Tuesday. Three days away.