To Go Where Angels Fear To Tread
"As in cleaned out all her stuff, motorcycle gone, all that’s left is a crappy note telling me that she’s moving out and money to cover another month of her rent and utilities, gone," Cordelia recounted, her tone heavy with venom. Angel sighed and turned away from her. He tried to calm himself. He’d nearly panicked when she’d announced that Max was gone. But he had to remind himself that they were just ‘friends’. He didn’t have the right to worry over her like he initially had. His mind searched for a logical assumption for her behavior. But there didn’t seem to be one. Unless she was more upset about what he had done than she’d let on and just wanted to forget all about him…them.
"This is my fault," he sighed. He shouldn’t have let her leave that morning. Not without making sure that she was okay. Not just giving in to his need to see her safe. Physically, their separation would keep her well. But on deeper levels… he’d completely ignored that and now he had a pissed of Seer on his hands.
"Well duh!" Cordy exclaimed. She collapsed on the couch, staring up at her boss. "It hardly seems fair to blame Max when you’re the one who wouldn’t leave her alone, got groiny with her and didn’t even have the courtesy to go ‘grr’!" Angel spun around, half amused, half angered by her assessment.
"Max is mad because I didn’t turn into Angelus?" he demanded incredulously. Cordy stared at him; as if surprised he hadn’t come to the same conclusion.
"Well what woman wouldn’t be?" she scoffed. "It doesn’t speak very highly of her if you didn’t get your moment of happiness," she rolled her eyes even as she said it. Angel sank down onto the couch next to her.
"But I did," he murmured, unable to look at her. "I haven’t been that happy since…"
"Since Buffy?"
"Yeah."
*****
A week passed. Angel had convinced Cordelia and the rest of the gang that Max would be fine. That she just wanted to get on with her life. Cordy was upset that Max hadn’t tried to contact her, him or even Giles. And Giles was concerned, though he was the first to admit that he didn’t believe that Max would naturally turn to him for comfort now. The others were philosophical about the matter to some extent. They were still interested in the technical side of Max and Angel’s relationship. The prophesy, the curse, why Angelus wasn’t in their midst. But it seemed reasonable that yes; Max wanted to move on. After all, in the real world people did move away and change their lives when they had a chance. It was just a foreign concept to those who lived in the world of vampires, demons, curses and the rocky roads to true love.
The second week passed and still Cordy had the uneasy feeling that Max needed them. So she nagged and cajoled, begged, pleaded and finally threatened Angel until he agreed to find her. But that was as far as he was willing to go. Find her, make sure she was well, then he was going to respect her wishes and leave her be.
And that was how he came to be at the LA Bike Messenger service just before closing time. He’d crept into the building, carefully avoiding the flock of mostly young adults moving past him on their bikes, making that last delivery, or heading home. He didn’t really care to note the differences among them. He only cared that Max, if she were here, not see him and bolt again. He didn’t see her among that crowd, so he moved in a little further. He wondered if perhaps she might be working the desk. So he approached cautiously, stopping only when a deeply familiar voice floated to his ears.
"Come on Roy," the young man chuckled. "I can’t make it tomorrow. If I miss this test, my professor will kill me and I’ll lose my scholarship."
"I get it Connor," an older man answered him. "I’ve already checked with the other kids. If you can find someone to switch or cover for you, then that’s fine. If you just don’t show up, then I’m afraid you’ll no longer have a job. That’s just the way it is kid." Angel took a step forward and saw what he’d feared. There stood his son, knapsack slung lazily over one shoulder. Connor was dressed casually in jeans and tee shirt. He looked…happy. Relaxed and confident as a teenager would when mostly all was right in his world. Angel felt a strange lump in his throat. Depression warred with joy. Here was the Connor he’d wanted. Nurtured, brave, at peace, loved, with friends, a good job, education. It was all there before him. But he hadn’t been the one to provide it. With an inward sigh, he stepped forward. He had to get this over with and get out of there, lest he forget he was now a stranger to Connor and embarrass them both with a display of fatherly pride.
"Excuse me," he tried to be confident, but there was the tiniest catch in his voice. "Um, is Max Gueverra here?" He was caught a little off guard when Connor stiffened at the sound of his voice and turned to stare at the newcomer. Did on some unconscious level, Connor remember him? The all too familiar suspicion was there in the boy’s eyes.
"Who’s asking?" the man, obviously Roy, demanded. Angel tore his gaze away from his child.
"A friend," he muttered. The man’s eyebrow rose up, just as suspicious as Connor. "Angel." It wasn’t his imagination that both men tensed up even more.
"I got to go Roy," Connor muttered, hiking the strap of his knapsack even higher. "See ya." And with that, he bolted from the building. Angel watched him go, torn between running after him and finding out what Roy knew. Duty won out and he turned back to the man.
"Sorry man," Roy shrugged. "Max quit a few weeks back. Didn’t think it was fair to me to be giving her a paycheck when she couldn’t work." A slight pause. "Haven’t seen her since. Didn’t leave me her forwarding address."
Angel nodded. He knew instinctively that the man wouldn’t tell him any more than that. And it wasn’t his place to beat the information out of the poor guy for trying to protect a former employee. "Okay, well, if you do talk to her, could you have her call Cordelia or Giles. We’re all worried about her."
Roy eyed the dark stranger. He noticed that he didn’t include himself as a contact. With the little Roy knew of Max’s troubles, he supposed that was a good thing. "Yeah," he finally agreed. "If I see her." He gave an enigmatic shrug, as if to say he doubted that that would occur. Angel nodded once then turned and left. As the door to the building closed softly behind him, the business’ lights went out. Obviously Roy was closing up. But the darkness didn’t bother him. It was the whisper of movement at the mouth of the alley that caught his attention. His hand automatically went to the pocket with his stake in it. He moved forward, employing his natural vampiric skills, until he heard that voice again. He stood, stock still as he listened to Connor once again speaking.
"Yeah Max, it’s me," he chuckled, then began speaking again. "Yeah, that Angel guy finally showed up." He listened. "No, Roy did just as you asked. Told him you quit and hadn’t seen you since." There was another pause. "Yeah I’m sure. I listened at the door. He just asked Roy to have you call if he heard from you. Someone named Cornelia Giles?" Angel stifled a laugh at that. Well, at least it answered his question about Connor remembering any of them. "Oh sorry then. Cordelia!" A longer pause. "Okay, well, I’ll see you at home. I’ll stop and grab some Chinese on the way." Angel’s jaw tensed up. Max was living with Connor? "No I’m not. Can’t a guy do something sweet without everyone assuming he wants something?" Angel’s hands clenched into fists. Unbidden, the memories of Connor making love to Cordelia came to him, almost was overwhelming him. He pushed the thoughts away, forcing himself to concentrate on the matter at hand. "Yeah, okay, I’ll see you soon then." With that, Connor hung up his phone and settled it into his pocket before swinging his leg over the bicycle seat and peddling away. Angel watched until he could no longer see his son. It was as if he couldn’t move, locked in his memories as he was. He clearly remembered holding the newborn in his trembling hands. Overcome by the awesomeness of that miracle. And then soon after the terror when Connor had disappeared. So many conflicting emotions in the years after Connor, or Steven as he’d wanted to be known as, came back Right up to Angel’s sacrifice so that Connor could have a life he deserved.
Angel felt it all tumbling down around him again. Another woman in his life, one that he cared for more deeply than he could say, had chosen Connor over him. A little voice in his mind tried to remind Angel that it hadn’t truly been Cordelia who’d been with Connor. She’d been controlled by some evil being during that time. And she certainly didn’t remember it. And Max, she had no possible way of knowing that Connor was Angel’s son. Finally, Angel forced himself to move. Max was safe. That was all he’d wanted to know. And Connor was okay too. Somehow, even without his intervention, things would work themselves out. Maybe not to his liking, but the world would go on turning.
*****
Time seemed to pass slowly for the AI group. Cordy was taking her friends seeming defection badly. It was almost as if she were grieving. She went through all the stages, denial, anger acceptance. On most days though, even the merest hint of her former roommate’s name was enough to send Cordy into some rant or another. So they didn’t speak of her. The others didn’t understand it, but Angel did. He felt the same way a little. Max had been almost everything to Cordy. A roommate, friend, sister and suddenly she was gone. As if what they were to each other meant nothing. But Angel also understood Max. For all her life, she’d either been dictated to by her superior officers, or completely alone, on the run. She needed a measure of control over her life to combat the first half of it. And she needed freedom to keep that first half from endangering the life she did make. To him, her actions were completely understandable. But that’s as far as his goodwill went. He missed her. He wanted her back. But he knew, with the curse, their basic differences, it couldn’t be.
Three weeks after seeing Connor for the last time, Angel was mulling things over, again, in his office. The urge to find Max was still there, but he’d had long years of practice at tamping things down. Suppressing his own needs and wants. He was so deep in his thoughts that he actually jumped when he heard Cordelia screaming in pain.
"Damn visions," he muttered as he hurried from his office. And there was Cordelia, collapsed on the floor, one hand to her head. Wes and Gunn knelt near her, both knowing that there was nothing they could do. Fred was already getting the acetaminophen and water for her friend. Angel paused before her, awaiting the latest information on the crisis. Tear filled eyes met his own.
"It’s Max," she whispered brokenly, wincing as the vision receded. "Her and another man. There’s a demon. Grey, lots of spikes, big. And…oh God, she’s hurt."
Angel closed his eyes for a brief moment. "Where are they?" He barely paid attention long enough to get the address and then he was racing to his car, never even realizing that Wes had handed him a bag of weapons, just in case.
He pushed the speed limit well beyond its limits and arrived at a small apartment complex not far from the university campus. He could already hear the sounds of a fight in the alley behind the building. Angel yanked a sword from the bag as he leapt from the convertible. He ran towards the fight, his game face emerging as he heard Max cry out. He came around the corner and was stopped short by the sight of Max, trying to defend Connor from the approaching monster. She held herself upright, but Angel could sense that she’d already taken some damage.
He raced forward, yelling to get the demons attention away from the duo. It worked to an extent. The demon didn’t seem to fear any of them. Angel soon taught it a different lesson. He nimbly dodged and avoided the spiked attacks, trying to ply the sword. But the thick gray hide was impervious to the steel blade. So when the demon knocked it from his hands, he didn’t try to recover it. It skittered over to Max and without hesitation; Connor reached down and plucked it from the ground. He was ready to defend himself and his friend if need be.
Angel quickly decided on a plan of action. All he needed was an opening. It came, after ten more minutes of ducking, dodging and getting in a few blows. He’d tried to maneuver the demon as far from Max as possible. He didn’t want her or Connor getting in the way when the demon went down, as he wasn’t familiar with it. He didn’t know what its death would be like. It was almost anti-climactic when he managed to kick the demon's feet out from under it and with swift, sure motions, twisting the head all the way around, ensuring that it’s neck was snapped. He watched it a few moments to make sure it didn’t recover. It was dead.
Angel tried to calm himself before turning around. He could still feel his game face and he didn’t really want to have to explain himself to Connor. Although, having a demon attack you was usually an eye opener. He was pretty sure that Connor had enough to deal with right now. He finally shifted back to form and turned, just in time to see Max double over in pain and collapse to the ground.
"Max!" he and Connor both cried out. Connor dropped the sword and was at his friend’s side on his knees. Angel hurried over and knelt on her other side. He could see the tears streaking down her face and now that he was closer, could smell the blood from the wounds she’d received. Angel ran his hands over her carefully, trying to figure out where she’d been hurt. But the way she was cradling her stomach was a telling point.
"Max, how bad is it?" he asked softly.
"Hospital," she gasped. "Now!"
It was bad.
Open Mouth, Insert Foot
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