Trust Me, Part Eleven

[thebratqueen]

PART ELEVEN

Connor swooped down on him as soon as he opened the door to the apartment. "You must think I'm stupid."

Angel stood there with his hand on the doorknob, wondering if it was too late to run back downstairs. "No, son, I don't think that."

"You thought I wouldn't figure it out, didn't you?" Connor accused. "You thought I wouldn't know."

Angel closed the door, deciding this conversation was definitely going to be private. "Connor, before you start, let me explain myself."

"Explain yourself?" Connor asked. "*Explain* yourself? What exactly are you going to explain?"

Angel had to admit this was a good question. "Well… things are complicated. And I thought - "

"I can't *believe* this!" Connor shouted. He looked ready to hit something. "How *could* you? How could you do this?"

Angel held up his hands, trying to calm him down. "Son - "

"How could you start drinking again?" Connor demanded. He shook his head in disgust. "Of all the *selfish*, stupid things you could do!"

"Oh God," Angel said. He came forward, trying to get Connor to listen to him. "Son, no. *No*. I swear to you that's not it."

"Yeah, right," Connor said. "You're just getting into fights with people, acting all strange, trying to make sure I don't notice you staying out all night. I'm not an idiot."

"Connor, no," Angel insisted. "I'm not *drunk*."

"Yeah, sure, now," Connor said. "The bars were closed, right? You know, I'm not doing this again. I'm not picking up after you or making excuses for you or walking over your body in the park because you were too much of a *loser* to even pass out in our house."

"Jesus," Angel said. The truth of what Connor said washed over him. He saw himself, *this* version of himself, doing those very things. He felt the horror of it all over again. "I'm so sorry."

"Yeah," Connor said. "So sorry that you're doing it again."

"*No*," Angel said. He took Connor by the arms, meeting his eyes. "Son, listen to me. I'm not drunk. I haven't *had* a drink. Not for years and not again. I swore to myself I'd never hurt you like that and I meant it. I would never *ever* hurt you like that. I'd never let anything *else* hurt you like that either. Not again. Do you understand me?"

Connor looked at him warily. "So what's going on?"

Angel grimaced. "That's… complicated."

"Tell me anyway," Connor said, his attitude a mixture of stubbornness and concern.

Angel let him go, hoping to defuse the fight between them. He put his hands in his pockets, trying to figure out how to explain it. "I - I had a nightmare, okay? About somebody taking you away from me. It was like I lived somebody else's life where - where you weren't in it. And that *killed* me, Connor. You know, I don't care if you ever forgive me or love me after all the things I've done but it would kill me if I wasn't allowed to love you."

Connor took that in, shifting uncomfortably. "And that's all it is? A nightmare?"

"That's all it is," Angel confirmed. "Thank God."

Connor finally nodded, accepting that. "Fine. But next time *tell* me. I was up all night worrying about you."

Angel dared to give him a grin. "Remember that next time you stay out past your curfew. You'll know what I go through."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Connor said. He gestured towards the kitchen. "You eaten anything yet?"

"No," Angel said, realizing he'd forgotten all about that. His stomach rumbled, reminding him. "You cooking?"

"I could make us a few sandwiches," Connor said.

Angel smiled. "PB&J?"

"God, you actually want *ingredients*?" Connor asked. "I was just gonna throw the bread at your thick skull."

Angel took his coat off, hanging it on the hook. "What can I say? I'm picky."

Connor went into the kitchen, pulling out the ingredients from the various cabinets. "So, pretty freaky dream, huh?"

Angel helped out by finding clean knives and plates. "The freakiest."

Connor dealt out bread, then began spreading peanut butter over it. "Was it one of those ones where, like, everything's purple and houses are made out of strawberries?"

Angel watched Connor carefully, deciding now was the time to test the waters if any. "It was one of those ones were I was actually over two hundred years old and somehow you and Cordy got together to have a child that ended up enslaving the world."

"See this is why I tell you not to eat the spicy stuff at parties," Connor said. He gestured at Angel with his spoon before dipping it into the jelly jar. "You *think* you can handle it but you are so very, very wrong."

"My bad," Angel said, smiling again.

"You should look into simple stuff," Connor continued. He put the sandwiches together and handed one to Angel. "In fact, don't they make energy shakes for people your age? Saves you the danger of chewing."

"Did I mention in this dream that sometimes I had fangs?" Angel asked.

"Yeah, that's in no way Freudian and disgusting," Connor replied, cutting his sandwich in half. "Do you want milk?"

"Yeah, thanks," Angel said, putting his plate on the table.

"There's a carton of it in the fridge," Connor said. He turned a chair around so he could straddle it while sitting at the table. "Help yourself."

"*Thanks*," Angel drawled. He filled a glass for the both of them. "So how was your day?"

Connor talked around a mouthful of food. "Before or after I got all pissed off at you?"

"We already did the pissed off part, so how about you give me the good stuff?" Angel asked.

Connor shrugged. "Okay I guess."

"Did you enjoy the movie?" Angel asked, sitting down as well. "What'd you see anyway?"

Connor rolled his eyes. "Nothing. We got up to the theater then Rick started acting like a moron because he and Brenda can't agree on who pays for stuff, and Robin had an early curfew anyway so Tracy and I gave up and went home."

"By which you mean that you came right back here," Angel said, "all by yourself and did homework and other kinds of wholesome things I can be proud of, right?"

"Yeah, right," Connor grinned. "By the way, Dad?"

Angel looked up at him. "Yeah?"

"*Gross*," Connor told him.

Angel laughed. "Yeah, that was - " he stopped, the memory of Wes catching up with him. He swallowed and pushed his food away, suddenly not hungry anymore.

Connor looked worried. "You had more than a nightmare, didn't you?"

"Wes and I had a fight," Angel said. He folded his arms on the table, leaning on it for support. "It's - don't worry about it. He's leaving town."

Connor picked at his crusts. "I'm sorry."

Angel shrugged. "No big deal."

"I know you liked him," Connor said.

"My mistake," Angel replied.

Connor looked uncertain about the next question. "Did he hurt you?"

Angel bit his tongue, then finally nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, he did."

Connor made a face. "Asshole."

"That'd be one word for it," Angel agreed. He tried drinking his milk, the taste strange after everything that had happened.

"Well screw him," Connor decided. "He was a jerk anyway. I hope he *does* leave town. Let him suffer. Let that guy catch up to him and make him *pay*."

Angel stopped, listening to the words that were coming out of his son's mouth. "No."

"Why not?" Connor asked. "He lied, he stole, he hurt people. He hurt *you*. Why shouldn't he be punished? I hope he goes to jail. I hope he goes to *worse*."

"*No*," Angel said, standing up to his full height. He faced his son down. "*No*. Don't say that. Don't you *ever* say that, Connor. You are a better person than that, do you hear me?"

Connor looked up, confused. "Dad, what's the big deal?"

"You shouldn't hate," Angel said, fighting back the echoes of memories that threatened to overwhelm him. "Not like that. Not *because* of that."

Connor shook his head. "But - "

Angel came to the other side of the table, squatting down so he and Connor were face to face. "Son, you may not ever understand this but - you're in a better place than you could ever be. A place I fought very hard to give you. And I did it because I know that you are full of love, and compassion, and *kindness* the likes of which nobody has ever seen. You are the most amazing person I have ever known and I don't *ever* want you to forget that."

"Okay, now you're freaking me out again," Connor told him.

"I'm sorry," Angel said, "but it's true. Don't ever lower yourself because of other people, and *especially* not because of me. Don't hate somebody just because you think I want you to. Don't hurt someone just because you think it might protect me. I don't want that for you. I just want *you*."

"What if I get mad about people hurting you anyway?" Connor asked. "You're my dad. I don't *want* people hurting you."

Angel swallowed hard on the lump in his throat. "Then when it happens and you feel like that come and tell me. I promise no matter what that'll make me feel better."

"I'd rather punch people in the face," Connor said.

"Tough," Angel retorted. "Life's full of sacrifices. Believe me."

Connor squirmed, then reached out to embrace him. "I *do* love you, okay? And I forgive you for the other stuff. Just don't do it again. I'll kick your ass if I have to, you know."

Angel held him tight, knowing he was making the hug last longer than Connor's teenage sensibilities were probably comfortable with. "Like you could take me."

"You'd be huffing and wheezing two minutes in," Connor said. "Plus I cheat. My dad taught me how."

Angel shut his eyes tight. "You're the best son I could ever ask for, you know that?"

"I'm your *only* son," Connor reminded him.

Angel smiled. "Doesn't matter in the slightest. Now stay here, I gotta go talk to Wes."

***

The apartment door was unlocked when Angel went upstairs. He pushed it open, watching the light from the hallway fall onto Wes's luggage, and then Wes himself as he sat at the window. Angel walked over, sitting down beside Wes with one leg planted in the living room, the other on the garage roof outside.

Wes didn't even look up. "It's fascinating, isn't it?"

"What is?" Angel asked.

"All of it," Wesley said. His hands curled in his lap, holding Alissa securely in her bundle of blankets and winter wear. "This world, this reality. I've been thinking about it."

Angel leaned back against the windowframe. "It's got a lot going for it."

"You couldn't adjust all of it though," Wes continued. "You knew that going in, didn't you? I recognized the words when you told me. Lilah gave me the exact same warning. Some things - "

" - can't be changed," Angel finished. "Yeah. She did."

Wes looked up. "It's destinies, isn't it? You couldn't change everyone's destinies. That's why Buffy isn't here, or Faith. Their roles as Slayers superceded your wish for this place to happen."

Angel nodded. "That's right."

"And Spike," Wes said, puzzling it out. "He's the Champion now. His destiny couldn't be changed either."

"Exactly," Angel said.

"There's no magic on this world, is there?" Wesley asked.

"Nope," Angel said. "No vampires, no demons, no witches, not even an oh my."

"It's a powerful spell," Wesley said, his voice almost admiring.

"Took two vengeance demons and something called a Krissniv," Angel told him.

Wes didn't look surprised. "Yes, I imagine it would. So, what did you wish for? A normal life for you, then one for Connor - "

"No," Angel shook his head. "One wish. For me to be able to *have* a normal life with Connor. So I could give him that. Nobody else."

Wesley frowned. "Only one wish for that? And the Krissniv would have tidied up the details and given the extra burst of power necessary for something as massive as this. What was the other demon for then?"

"Darla," Angel said.

Understanding shaped Wesley's face. "She was fated to die. No matter what, her destiny was to die from illness. But you changed that. You used the other demon to change the date."

"I didn't want Connor growing up not knowing who his mother was," Angel said. "Or how much she loved him."

Wesley thought about it, his gaze going back down to the child in his lap. "That must have been quite a difficult decision for you. To choose something like that, knowing that it would mean heartache of that nature."

"It was for Connor," Angel shrugged. "I'd do a whole lot of things for that kid."

"Even give up your memories of Buffy?" Wesley asked.

"Gave up my memories of everything," Angel reminded him. He tried to keep the bitterness out of his tone. "That's the way it worked. Until now, anyway."

Wesley's fingers moved down the baby blanket, avoiding Alissa's touch as she reached out for him. "When I returned from England everyone was fine. Worried about me, of course, as much as any of them are, but beyond that not a care in the world. Utterly convinced that all was well, and that Spike was doing a wonderful job in his capacity as our leader."

"Was he?" Angel asked, surprised to find that he was curious.

Wesley shrugged. "As well as any new Champion could, I suppose. But I knew that was wrong, you see. I knew that something was missing. Something important."

"Me," Angel said.

"I notice your ego doesn't change either," Wes said, dryly. "Yes, though I didn't realize it. I finally found a way to confront Lilah and make her give me the truth. She let me in on your little secret and then gave me the rest of the story. Imagine my surprise to discover this wasn't the first time you'd tried something like this."

"Connor was hurt," Angel said. "He was *dying*. I had to do something to save him."

"So you did," Wesley said, looking resigned to it. "To all reports it worked. What changed that?"

"I did," Angel said. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "When you left the prophecy came up again. Spike became corporeal and he and I fought to see which one of us deserved to get the Shanshu. Turns out it was a trick but - "

"Spike won," Wesley guessed. His blue eyes met Angel's. "That's it, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Angel confirmed.

Wes shook his head. "Angel, that doesn't mean - "

"No, it does, Wes," Angel said. He sat forward. "You were right. I lost it. I lost whatever it was that was keeping me in this. I lost the thing that I was hoping for. All that time I figured, I dunno, it was Buffy, or the good fight, or the prophecy. But it's not. Not anymore. It's my kid. All the prophecies in the world didn't mean nearly as much as getting my kid back."

"So you called Lilah and had her broker a new deal for you," Wesley said. "A new life with Connor. One without demons or vampires."

"One where he and I could really have a *life*," Angel said. "One that was worthy of him."

"Regardless of what that did to the rest of us," Wesley said. "Of how that meant leaving us without our Champion."

"You *had* a Champion," Angel said. "You had Spike. Face it, Wes. He *does* want it more. He's younger, he's hungrier. Yeah, I bet he was making some mistakes but so did I. He's fresh blood. Let him have it."

"You're not going back, are you?" Wesley asked.

Angel shook his head. "No."

Wes gave an ironic smile. "I was once so confident that you would."

"I won't lie to you," Angel said. "I know this might be exactly what the Senior Partners want. Hell, getting me out of the game like this might be exactly what they planned. But I don't care. I've got my kid. That's all that matters."

Wes nodded. "I can understand that."

"I'm sorry," Angel offered.

"It's your decision," Wesley said.

They lapsed into silence. Wes's hand finally stilled its nervous movements, staying in one place as Alissa attempted to hold it.

"Wes?" Angel said, when the quiet had gone on too long

"I can't do it," Wesley said, his voice no more than a whisper. "I've tried, but I can't."

Angel watched him carefully, keeping his own tone gentle. "What?"

"She cries at night," Wesley said. "Almost every night. She's been fed, and changed, and read to, and in all manners satisfied. It's only nightmares. Her own fears and worries. And I know each time that it happens that I am not supposed to help her with it. That I should stay back and let her learn to comfort herself. That I should *not* interfere."

"But you don't," Angel said.

"I *can't*," Wes looked up, his eyes tormented. "She cried last night, just as she's done so many nights before and I *told* myself not to do it. To leave her there, to not care because - because it doesn't *matter*. I don't belong here and neither does she as she's only a figment of an error in the timeline of history and she'll be *gone* when I leave and it won't have mattered!"

"Wes," Angel said, trying to draw him out of it.

"But I *can't*," Wes continued, breathing harder now. "I *can't*. Because - because she's *mine*. My own daughter. And - and I couldn't leave her there, Angel. I couldn't leave her in that small room, surrounded by the dark, wondering… wondering why her father wasn't coming to save her."

"Oh Jesus, Wes," Angel breathed. He wanted to reach out to him but knew this was one of those times when men didn't do that. When men *especially* did not do that. "Christ…."

"She's not real," Wes insisted. "When I came over here I demanded that Lilah give me a key. A way to restore my memory and yours. Do you know what Alissa even means, Angel?"

"Truth," Angel said, remembering when he himself had noticed how strange the choice of name was. "It's from Hebrew. It means truth."

"I'm quite the fool, aren't I?" Wesley asked. "Lilah put all the clues right in front of me. Even chose a language that I would be bound to know here if I was the sort of man to study any languages at all. The facts, quite literally, staring me right in the face and I didn't even notice them. Doesn't that strike you as funny? Hysterical, perhaps?"

"I'm not so worried about the name right now," Angel said.

"I was a Watcher," Wesley said. "Even after I lost my job I prided myself in knowing that I kept my oaths. That I never wavered from my promise to save the world, no matter what the cost was to myself."

"But you can't do it now," Angel said.

Wesley held Alissa's hand in one of his own. "No. I can't."

"That doesn't make you a bad man," Angel said.

Wes gave a bark of laughter. "I beg to disagree with you."

"Disagree all you like, it doesn't make it less true." Angel said. He touched Wes's leg, forcing him to face him. "Wesley, when you arrived here you know what made me trust you? Her. You were *starving* yourself in order to take care of her. That's not a bad man, Wes. That's a selfless one."

"That wasn't me," Wesley said.

"It *was*," Angel said, pressing his hand against Wes to drive the point home. "You said it yourself - some things can't be changed. I couldn't change Fred's brains or Doyle's death or my addictions and I couldn't change *you*. You're a good man, Wesley. You've made some mistakes but so has everybody. That doesn't change who you are inside."

Wes looked away, picking a new subject as though Angel hadn't even spoken at all. "You chose this, didn't you? I just realized the location was a part of it. You asked for something as different from Los Angeles as possible."

"That," Angel admitted, "and snow. I like snow."

"It makes you feel alive," Wesley said.

"It reminds me that there's good in life, and that's worth living it," Angel said. He studied Wes, wishing that he could read thoughts. "I know you tried to save Lilah."

Wes's shoulders tightened, but otherwise he gave no sign of emotion. "Yes."

"I know you couldn't do it," Angel said. "I know her contract was fully binding."

"So it would seem," Wesley said.

"Yours wasn't," Angel said.

Wes looked up.

"You're sitting here thinking that you failed," Angel said. "And I know that because I know you and I know that's what you *always* think. But did you stop to consider that maybe that wasn't the real mission? You said once you didn't know why Lilah would do this. Why she would have a child when you saw no reason why she should."

"It was the key," Wesley said. "I asked her to provide me with something. She picked something that I wouldn't lose. That I would protect."

"She picked the dollar, Wesley," Angel told him. "*That* was the one constant. Not your kid."

Wesley shook his head, his mouth agape. "No. No, you're mistaken - "

Angel leaned in, making sure Wes didn't look away this time. "Destinies don't change. Lilah's was to die while she was with you, and I'm sorry about that. But I think she had one more. One she made for herself. I think she decided to save you."

"No," Wes said again, but this time Angel could tell he was listening.

"It makes sense, Wes," Angel said. "Because that's constant too. Her life for yours. In both realities."

"But I *had* a life here," Wes protested.

"Not there?" Angel asked.

"No, I - " Wes faltered. "I did."

"You liked your job that much?" Angel asked. "Working for a company you didn't believe in, just to make your father happy?"

"Well I - " Wes frowned. "Wait. Which reality are you talking about?"

"You tell me," Angel replied.

There was a long moment as Wesley took that in.

"It's not a failure, Wes," Angel said. "Doing what you want right now does not make you less of a man. If you ask me, it makes you a better one."

"And what do I want right now?" Wesley asked.

Angel gave him a look. "You saying you really don't know?"

Wes became quiet again. Finally he spoke. "I want her. I want this. I want… I want what really matters to me."

"Sounds like some good goals," Angel said.

"Yes, well, easy for you to say," Wes replied. "You're the one who's actually made a life over here. I'm the charity case who's on the run from the law."

"Oh yeah, speaking of which," Angel fished the business card out of his pocket, showing it to Wesley. "Guess who's come calling?"

Wes read it. "Oh Good Lord."

"Yup," Angel said.

Wes frowned, curious. "Do you think he still has his hand?"

"I was wondering that too," Angel admitted.

"I suppose now I'll find out," Wesley sighed. "Some things truly *are* constant."

"Yeah," Angel said, "but what? Does that mean it's part of your destiny for Lindsey to come bugging you, or that it's part of mine?"

"As he's currently coming after *me* I assume - " Wes trailed off, then studied him. "Angel…"

"Stay," Angel said.

"You hate me," Wes reminded him.

"I was *mad* at you," Angel said. "And you were mad at me. But you know what? I'm sick of worlds with grudges that screw up people's lives. What do you say we both let it go and start over?"

"You honestly think we could do this?" Wesley asked.

"I honestly think we could try," Angel said. "Besides, you gotta stop running sometime. Why not some place where you've got friends?"

Wesley grimaced. "That might not be as easy for me as you might think."

"Then you've got me," Angel said. "And Connor. And your daughter. What more could you want?"

"A bigger checking account?" Wesley quipped, then dismissed it. "No. I - thank you. That's very generous. Perhaps even more than I would be under the circumstances."

"Do you really not like me anymore?" Angel asked. "Because of what I did?"

Wes's eyes met his. "I didn't say that."

Angel weighed that carefully. "Something else didn't change. Something you should know about."

"What?" Wesley asked.

"I didn't think I'd fall in love with you again either," Angel said.

From the look on Wes's face Angel knew the words had hit home. "Oh."

"Yeah," Angel said.

Alissa began to fuss. Wesley picked her up, cradling her carefully. With a smirk that was only partially hidden, Wesley said, "Thank you ever so much for telling me the first time."

"What can I say?" Angel asked. "I'm a man of secrets."

"You're a *man*," Wesley pointed out. "Must be quite the experience for you, particularly now that you know the difference."

"Not saying it isn't taking some getting used to," Angel said. "Food's a little off, I definitely don't have my full strength, and if my memory's right apparently my cholesterol is totally out of whack."

Wes actually smiled. "Perils of age."

"Wes?" Angel asked.

Wesley placed a few soft kisses on Alissa's forehead. "Yes?"

"What *is* cholesterol?"

Wes laughed. "Nobody knows. It's just something we nod and pretend to understand whenever our doctors scold us for it."

"Oh," Angel said. "Okay."

"You *are* going to need my help, aren't you?" Wesley observed.

"Wouldn't be unwelcome," Angel said. He moved closer. "Neither would you."

"You really want that?" Wesley asked. "After everything that's happened? Everything you remember?"

"Do you?" Angel asked.

Wes thought about it. "Lilah said when I regained my memories all that was left was finding out if I could tell what really mattered."

"Can you?" Angel asked.

Wes gave Alissa another hug, then leaned over to brush Angel's lips with a kiss. "Yes. I believe I can."

Angel pulled Wesley close, savoring the feel of him. "Don't go back there, Wesley. Stay right here with me."

Wesley rested himself against Angel's chest. "I believe at this point not even Fate could drag me off."

Angel smiled at that, and watched the light of the sun dance across the crystals of snow that covered their garage.

Fin.