Honorable
Sons: 22
by Josie_h
Notes
Spike flicked the phone onto speaker and both the entwined vampires listened to the desperate youth with a familiar sense of dread.
“Dad… um… Hi… Um….It’s just that you said to call, you know if I was… well… contacted… and um… well… today… um… Can I come over?”
Angel’s voice was strong and resolute, “Get in a cab, we’ll pay for it. See you in a half hour.”
They heard a relieved sigh and almost whispered, “Thanks,” then the click of a phone hanging up.
Connor arrived looking red eyed and disheveled, a smallish backpack slung over one shoulder. He sported a classic full length black overcoat which looked all the more odd courtesy of the trainers, College sweatshirt and jeans underneath.
Spike didn’t hesitate, dragging the boy across the threshold and into the waiting arms of the very worried Angel.
“’S OK pet, we’ve got you now… ‘cmon folks let’s sort this over a couple of beers – or would hot chocolate hit the spot?”
Connor turned and gave Spike a relieved smile. “Think chocolate sounds good right now.”
Father and son were sitting on the balcony talking as Spike wandered out with the warm drinks, Angel noted his cup filled with red rather than brown liquid, and that thankfully Spike had forgone adding small marshmallows to his blood (grinning as his mate shot a knowing look in his direction).
Connor took his drink and sipped the rich chocolate froth with relish, “Thanks Spike.”
Spike watched the boy with interest, “How long since you’ve slept whelp?”
“Ummm day maybe two… didn’t think I should go back to the dorm. Shorty said they’d been around asking.”
“OK you might have your ol’ Da here down with your cryptic but I’m still confused… Who is they?”
“Some group of guys.”
“OK twenty bloody questions is it… Which ‘group of guys’?”
“Shorty gave me the card they left for him, told him to ring them when I came in. I guess I just got a bit scared, you know? And with Mom being sick and… Geez why is my life always such a mess! I thought that, you know… now that I find you guys, then Mom finally gets some relief, it might all … You guys believe in karma?”
“None of this is your fault Connor.”
Spike looked across at his lover and saw the expected pang of guilt reflected in the beautiful features. He reached over to gently touch his mate’s knee as he took the card from the young man, “And ‘s not your fault either, lover.”
“Jeremy Claxton, VP Recruiting? Letters after his name say he’s a lawyer… So… why’s he got you spooked pet?”
“He came with three others. Told Shorty I had applied to intern with the company he represented and he was there to hand over travel arrangements and sort out the move.”
Spike asked quietly, “Had you?... Applied I mean?”
“No way. Not with Mom still recovering! San Fran is far enough!”
“Which company was it…?” Angel and Spike both had a strange feeling they already knew the answer.
“Washington branch of Wolfram and Hart.”
“Knew it… Bloody hell!” Spike slammed down his now empty mug and stalked off to the edge of the balcony, lit a cigarette and smoked it agitatedly while staring out across the darkened skyline.
“I’m pretty sure they don’t know about you Dad… or Spike, and I’m pretty sure that Shorty wouldn’t tell them.”
“How sure?”
“Sure enough. He said the guy creeped him out, and reckoned his three mates were not your ‘usual’ suits. Anyways he just took the card and told them I was sleeping at my girlfriend’s for the night, said I’d be ‘back tomorrow sometime’. As soon as I came in, he filled me in and we rang you on Shorty’s cell from behind the 7eleven – figured four blocks from campus and… well… geez I didn’t know what else to do!
“Wolfram and Hart knew about me in LA right? But why are they moving in now… I mean… It seems all kind of odd. You destroyed them right… but then I guess… their records?”
Spike looked at his mate, “Think we should call Willow, pet. Red’s got the know-how with the Net, like to bet she can trace at least some of the goin’s on. That fails we can always call the watchers.”
“No, let’s just keep this quiet… just Willow.”
“Right.” The blonde stalked inside to contact the witch while his mate continued to calm and comfort Connor.
Several hours later F’iaid and Spike were making tea, Angel was standing at the door of the guest bedroom watching Connor sleeping, and Willow was scouring the Net for information. Wolfram and Hart, as was expected, had no easy access points for information about clients, staff or … targets. But their secrecy did not, apparently, extend to the simplest of all places, a staff newsletter article “Welcoming to our six NY branch interns for July!” Complete with photos.
It seemed that Connor’s presence at the firm was assumed, and that he was listed as being attached to their ‘Special Projects’ department, complete with college yearbook picture. Willow read through the article, the credentials of the various individuals were listed, all similar but for a line added to Connor’s that gave credence to their investigations. “Connor is currently a scholarship student at Stanford CA, who brings a unique skill set to the Special Projects area. We wish all our …..” Willow ceased reading and called for the other concerned parties… “Spike? Angel?”
The group was standing around Willow staring at the monitor. The witch’s investigations had, in the end, revealed somewhat more than the ‘welcome new employees’ message.
“It seems the LA files from W&H were all backed up - including Vail’s ‘dealings’ and all agreements made by the last CEO before the branch was closed.” Willow looked up with a combination of regret and sympathy. “They have *all* Connor’s records. Everything Wolfram and Hart has ever monitored or done to you guys there’s even a…” Spike spotted the fuzzy image of a tiny boy cradled in a leather clad arm and grabbed his partner from behind in a tight hug as ‘observation’ photos of Connor’s earliest days came up on screen.
“Find something?” A still half asleep Connor was standing at the door of the study.
It was Willow who answered with an emotion filled “Yeah.”
F’Iaid moved aside to allow the young man to stand by his father as he stared at the ‘real’ images of his early weeks of life for the first time. Angel freed one arm from Spike’s loving embrace and gently placed his arm across the narrow shoulders and kissed his son’s hair.
“You OK?... Dad?”
Angel cleared his throat and replied in a near whisper, “You’re here. You’re safe. I love you. These bastards don’t touch you again.”
Willow flicked across to some sort of access log for the site, “These files were added to just six days ago. Seven files… including most recent marks from your studies, confirmation of the W&H internship…”
Spike and Angel were awash with anxious feelings and anger flowing through tenuous link from their youngest relative. This was not new, but for the first time, the two vampires heard a distinctly vampiric subsonic growl exuding unconsciously from the young man, and at the same time, saw the witches register what bordered on alarm, as a strong ripple of chaotic magic flowed from their young friend.
“But I don’t have anything special… well not really! I mean they…” Connor slumped, “Who am I kidding?! They know everything about me don’t they?”
The red witch answered, “It seems so sweetie… but only the ‘outside stuff’, they can never own the inside! And um… F’Iaid… can we talk?”
As the two witches walked outside Connor began to speak again. “Do they.. kind of… *own* my mom and dad? I mean were mom and dad… I don’t know…. Agents or….?”
“Definitely not!”
“Are you s…?”
“Positive! Before and after the fact! Gunn reviewed the whole deal just before we took the Black Thorn on. Your parents are not involved, the applied to foster and adopt, that’s all. What do you think they remember… really?”
“Well ummm, that I was fostered to them, then yeah …adopted, and um… that there was that stuff that went on while I was at college a couple of year’s ago with the van and all, that was kind of freaky… but um… I guess…” He stepped back, took a deep breath and continued, “You know… Shoot! I have *no* idea what my parents do or don’t know, but bottom line I *still* get a crappy allowance, don’t have a car *despite my* scholarship status, and suck at dating (which I blame on my mom since she is so into the ‘nice girl thing’ by the way!)”
Spike smirked, kept the grip on his mate and grinned at the now petulant pout sported by the young man, “Always did figure you for the ‘good boy’ in the room.”
Rather than interpreting the comment as it was meant, to calm and disarm, Connor was on a roll, so turned to his ‘step…whatever’ and growled… “Oh, and you’re so perfect!”
This time Angel and Spike both felt the violent jolt through the link, then saw it… a distinct golden flash through Connor’s pupils, and the change of his scent implying pure Aurelian (with all the history, passion, rage, primal desire and belonging that indicated.)
Before either vampire had truly processed the meaning of the shift, Willow and F’Iaid had returned looking resolute. The two witches stood at the door.
“We believe that you are only now beginning to feel the full range of your powers. Wolfram and Hart also seems aware that this might occur, so would have you in their fold, thereby binding you in some way to their will.”
Two sets of deadly yellow eyes and another sparkling occasional similar colors turned on the speakers to give a resolute (and concurrent), “No!!!”
Angel was the first to shake off his game face and growl… “Your point?”
“He must be bound, to you… if possible to the coven also… Pull his power toward family and balance. Wolfram and Hart would have the chaos of his origins take him. They would rather release a caged W&H dervish occasionally, than to ‘suffer’ a morally responsible and highly powerful warrior in the population!”
“And?? What are the implications for Connor? Come on Willow, everything comes at a price!”
“We will speak to the coven, but I cannot see a problem. Our Sussex coven has not taken a warlock in for almost three centuries, however this simply reflects a trend worldwide. Men turning away from the white magicks that sort of thing…” Spike gave Willow a look that prevented any further ‘wiccan history’ lectures. She continued, “Connor is an entirely unique individual by birth especially.”
F’Iaid took up the explanation, releasing Willow and drawing up to her full height and giving full reign to her truly charismatic presence, “It seems he is de bringer of balance, de destroyer of those who oppose it. His birth was foretold.” The dark witch turned to Connor at this point, “But your journey will not be alone. Do not mistake me. Dis is not an easy journey, but it is to be one shared by many. But we must protect you now. Dis is most important!”
Angel could not shake the newly defined ‘destroyer’ title… but fixed a determined stare at the witches and asked the more difficult question, “So you need to take him?” Angel could not stop the possessive growl emerging without warning from deep in his chest. Spike squeezed his partner tighter and Willow noted the eyes of the boy in question flashing back to deep blue, desperate and filled with tears.
“Oh Sweetie!” She released F’Iaid’s hold and making a ‘b-line’ for the youngest of their group.
Before she could offer Connor the hug she intended, however, Spike grabbed her and held her fast with all the preternatural strength that she had quite forgotten he possessed.
Voice near a growl, he spoke with precision and what bordered on terrifying menace (had Willow not known the full reason). “Now, ‘dear lady’! You said ‘family’. What ‘family’ would that be, witch… And while we are playing twenty questions… Please spell out for the three Aurelians in the room, just what that means to us *now*… What are you *not* saying?... ‘Cause me ol’ soul here is getting mighty fed up bein’ played and for the sake o’ little brother here, I’m just thinking that a demon loose might speed things along a mite!”
Willow’s eyes flashed black, and her friendly demeanor evaporated for a moment. A voice of authority came from the small redhead that commanded not just the blonde, but affected all in the room by its authority, “Back down William! You *do* not wish to threaten me. I know that you are fearful. So….”
Willow’s eyes returned to their natural green as she stepped in front of Angel, took his wrist and pushed it toward his own face, stating simply, “It’s about blood.”
As Angel bit into his own wrist, she moved to Spike and indicated to do the same. Spike complied.
Connor screwed up his nose at the mere thought of that form of exchange, but as Angel’s dripping wrist was presented up to him, Willow’s resolute look spoke the truth. It really was the only way. He was the son of vampires. What came next was unknown, but for now he took in the familial bloodline through first his father’s crimson offering, then that of his father’s mate. And this was followed by accepting the markings of Willow’s coven and F’Iaid’s line as the two witches painted complex henna symbols onto the palm of each hand.
At the conclusion of an all but silent thirty minutes of intense exchange, all parties relaxed a little.
Connor cleared his throat… “Yeah well… um… What now?”