Connor/Wesley: Brittle
Jan. 2nd, 2004 11:44 pmIt's squeaking in under the deadline and it's rather obliquely about the challenge, but I lost my original piece (along with lots of other stuff) when the laptop died. And as I'm too stupid to back up.... sigh.
mistakency, I was about 2/3 of the way done with a backup Dawnficathon story for you, I'm not sure if I'll be able to come through with that now. I'm sorry :(
Title: Brittle
Author: Doyle
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Connor/Wesley
Notes: For Day 2 of the 12 Days of Ficlets challenge. Theme is 'revenge'.
Magic can be a brittle thing; easily conjured, easier shattered. Connor was schooled in this when he was still Steven, and could have told it to his father, had he been consulted before Angel took away his memories and painted him a gleaming new life.
He doesn't deny that the spell, whatever it was, did good work. There was never any hint that he was anything other than the well-adjusted sophomore student he believed himself to be. He had no flashes of memory, no dreams of a past life, and no idea at all that he was someone else until he jerked awake in the middle of the night and he was Connor again.
He knows now that at that moment, two hundred miles away, his father was crumbling to dust.
Wesley and Lorne came to find him a day later, looking weary and beaten down, and he listened carefully to their story of a bargain Angel had made without their knowledge.
He's still not sure whether he really believes that they had forgotten him. It's easier, sometimes, to think that they let him be taken, again. But he went with them back to Los Angeles, where he realized that they weren't sure what to do with him, or with themselves. At night, he hunted for vampires, the strength and speed returning to him as if he had never been anything but the Destroyer. Back at Wesley's apartment he washed off the blood and ashes, and lay awake on the couch till dawn.
During the day, there were the funerals. Wesley looked too pale in the sunshine.
Connor doesn't waste much time in worrying over motivations - his own or anyone else's - so he doesn't wonder why, the first night when he crawled into the bed beside him, Wesley didn't push him away. A year later, and they've never said a word in daylight about whatever this is between them.
Holtz would be outraged. Lying with another man, with one who had fought beside Angelus…
He thinks Angel would be angry. He isn't sure. He hopes so, just as he hopes that Angel can see him from his place in Hell.
He tries not to consider how the others would react, the people who were never really his family at all, and he doesn't ever think about what this is to Wesley, if it isn't love, if it isn't revenge.
Title: Brittle
Author: Doyle
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Connor/Wesley
Notes: For Day 2 of the 12 Days of Ficlets challenge. Theme is 'revenge'.
Magic can be a brittle thing; easily conjured, easier shattered. Connor was schooled in this when he was still Steven, and could have told it to his father, had he been consulted before Angel took away his memories and painted him a gleaming new life.
He doesn't deny that the spell, whatever it was, did good work. There was never any hint that he was anything other than the well-adjusted sophomore student he believed himself to be. He had no flashes of memory, no dreams of a past life, and no idea at all that he was someone else until he jerked awake in the middle of the night and he was Connor again.
He knows now that at that moment, two hundred miles away, his father was crumbling to dust.
Wesley and Lorne came to find him a day later, looking weary and beaten down, and he listened carefully to their story of a bargain Angel had made without their knowledge.
He's still not sure whether he really believes that they had forgotten him. It's easier, sometimes, to think that they let him be taken, again. But he went with them back to Los Angeles, where he realized that they weren't sure what to do with him, or with themselves. At night, he hunted for vampires, the strength and speed returning to him as if he had never been anything but the Destroyer. Back at Wesley's apartment he washed off the blood and ashes, and lay awake on the couch till dawn.
During the day, there were the funerals. Wesley looked too pale in the sunshine.
Connor doesn't waste much time in worrying over motivations - his own or anyone else's - so he doesn't wonder why, the first night when he crawled into the bed beside him, Wesley didn't push him away. A year later, and they've never said a word in daylight about whatever this is between them.
Holtz would be outraged. Lying with another man, with one who had fought beside Angelus…
He thinks Angel would be angry. He isn't sure. He hopes so, just as he hopes that Angel can see him from his place in Hell.
He tries not to consider how the others would react, the people who were never really his family at all, and he doesn't ever think about what this is to Wesley, if it isn't love, if it isn't revenge.
no subject
on 2005-09-21 10:02 pm (UTC)