Title: Our Sons and Daughters
Chapter Title: Lucky #8
Author: Baby Blues
E-mail: purely_blissful@hotmail.com
Rated: R
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine, except for the children and the story.
Summary: Angel gets a visit from Whistler, and another 8 teens. And he thought Connor was trouble.
Dedication: To Hayden, just cause I miss him and he’s gonna be sending me postcards while he’s in the Bahamas with the others. *pouts* Spring Break’s gonna suck.
Excerpt:
~Whistler: . . . You have no clue how much these kids need you.
~Angel: I’m afraid to ask why.
~Whistler: Because they’re your children.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“So . . . who’s who again?” Cordelia asked in wonder as she stood back in her prim and proper Prada outfit of a short black silk skirt and a charcoal grey blouse, gazing at the eight unfamiliar faces who stared back at her with various expressions ranging from boredom, curiosity, indifference, and suspicion.
“And here you thought filing folders was a nightmare,” Lorne mumbled more to himself than the ex-cheerleader.
One of the older boys rolled his eyes and sat back on the lobby couch. “Maybe we should walk around with those sticker tags that start off with ‘Hi, my name is.’ Maybe that’ll help your petty inadequate mind, which was probably caused by too much bleach seeping into your brain, learn to figure out our names,” he commented sarcastically.
Cordelia frowned at him and growled, “I don’t like you already, mister.”
“Feeling’s mutual,” he replied nonchalantly.
“Down, Aiden,” Whistler scolded lightly, amusement in his expression and tone. The boy with the short golden curly blond hair and piercing icy blue eyes had the same spark as his mother and father combined. Angel was going to have a field day with that one.
“When are they coming back?” the youngest, Ariella, asked, her voice trembling slightly from anxiety.
“Soon,” Fred softly answered her in her most reassuring tone as she watched the small girl hug herself tighter in fear and exhaustion.
Silence permeated the lobby of the Hyperion Hotel as wandering eyes jumped from one person to the next in apprehension.
“It’s a lovely home,” one of the other males broke through the stillness, his curious brown eyes studying his surroundings.
“It’s a hotel,” Aiden rolled his eyes and gazed absently around, “Not a home. A dark, depressing hotel that needs more than just cleaning,” his eyes fell on the Seer and with a mischievous glint in his eyes added, “It needs sanitizing.”
“I am so close to smacking you,” Cordelia said through gritted teeth.
The boy smirked. “Bring it on,” he dared her.
Cordelia stepped forward and Aiden stood up in all his 6’1 male grandeur, glowering down at the faux blonde’s already tall form. She gazed up at him with blazing brown eyes. “Are you actually going to hit a woman? Do you have any morals?”
He gave her an almost sadistic chuckle. “My dad did it.”
“Angel would never do that,” Cordelia murmured.
Aiden chuckled again. “I never said he was my father.”
“Shut it, Aiden,” Whistler warned, shaking his head. “No need to drop the bomb when the target isn’t even here yet.”
The boy looked at her once again with a leer. “Guess I’m gentleman enough to do that.”
Cordelia stared at the short demon. “What did he mean by that?” she demanded.
“Listen, Princess,” one of the older girls said in a bored yet irritated tone, “It’s none of your business, so shut the blow job cavern and let it go.”
The older woman stared in shock and absolute horror at the tiny girl with the bright blue eyes and platinum hair. “Are all blondes this mouthy?” she asked, looking from Aiden to the girl who looked a bit similar to him. “And I do NOT give blow jobs, you little brat,” she cleared up.
“Right . . . and you really are a blonde,” the girl mocked her with a sweet yet sardonic smile on her pretty face. “And call me a brat again and I’ll . . .”
“What the hell is going on?” a voice boomed in the doorway.
Everyone stood still and mute as they gazed at Angel’s tall dark form looming in the entrance doorway with Gunn behind him. Whistler finally stepped forward and lifted a hand in greeting. “Hey, kid,” he smirked, “Welcome home.”
“Daddy?” Ariella asked wearily before jumping onto her feet and running up to the stunned vampire who caught the sobbing young girl in his arms. He stared down at her shiny brown head and gawked at Whistler with wide eyes full of questions.
When the demon did nothing but shrug, Angel tentatively patted the girl gently on her back. “Ammm . . . ” he mumbled, not knowing how to respond to the tiny girl’s hysterics. He glared at Whistler who stood smiling at him with something akin to sheepishness. “Whistler? Wanna explain a few things to me?”
“Sure. Uhh . . . Amelia?”
“Ariella,” the girl glared fiercely at the demon who had brought her here, her scowl almost the same perfect copy as Angel’s.
“Right. Sorry,” he shook his head, “Too many damn children here to remember.”
“Excuse me? Children?” the mouthy blonde asked, arms crossing over her chest in an intimidating manner.
“Young teenagers?” Whistler weakly offered instead.
“Umm . . . hello? Still waiting for an explanation here,” Angel interrupted, waving his right hand in the air as Ariella stepped back, but still keeping an arm wrapped around his waist.
Whistler sighed and motioned to the other seven young strangers. “They’ll be staying here for a while. A rather . . . long while actually,” Whistler said, waiting for the vampire to blow a gasket.
“What? Huh? Why? . . . Why?” Angel questioned, wanting to pull himself away from the little girl but not having the heart to do so as he watched her from the corners of his eyes.
“Maybe we should talk in private?” Whistler asked, looking around the room at all the different individuals who stared at him expectantly.
Angel motioned towards the kitchen and moved away from the young girl. She looked up at him with wide teary eyes, fear at being left by him apparent in her child-like features. He stared back at her in wonder as he studied her face, stunned as he admired her mismatched eyes of one blue and one green. He hesitantly touched her cheek as he concentrated on where he’d seen her before. She gave him a trembling smile as he slowly came closer to recognition . . .
“Angel?” Whistler questioned, pulling Angel away from his thoughts.
“Yeah,” he said, taking back his hand. He frowned lightly and turned to walk towards the kitchen with his ex-mentor right behind him, not wanting to ponder over the familiarity of the young girl’s looks. He somehow knew that if he uncovered the truth, he would either be frightened or ecstatic.
The short demon, dressed badly in a green silk buttoned up shirt with white swirl designs all over it, a leather jacket, a pair of black pants, loafers, and a derby hat, helped himself in Angel’s kitchen as he looked through the cabinets and grabbed a mug before pouring himself some steaming hot coffee.
“I need this,” he told the vampire who sat down on the kitchen table, waiting patiently for him to begin. “You have no idea how tough it is to drag around eight hormone driven teenagers.”
Angel shook his head. “I have some idea,” he said, thinking about Connor who was still locked up in his room . . . probably . . . hopefully.
Whistler took a seat across from him, emptying spoonful after spoonful of sugar into the mug. “Want some coffee with that?” Angel asked sarcastically.
The demon frowned at him, “I told you I needed it, right?”
Angel sighed. “So . . . can you please tell me what’s going on now? I’d really like to know why there are eight strangers in my hotel lobby looking as if they hadn’t slept or eaten a good meal in days.”
“Because they hadn’t,” Whistler confirmed.
“And here you are drinking coffee as they sit out there starving and tired?”
The other demon stared at him, completely oblivious to the vampire’s point. “I didn’t starve them. Beef jerky and milk is like a five star meal.”
“To you, yes! Jesus, Whistler, that’s child abuse! Fred!” Angel called out in exasperation.
Whistler stared at him dumbfounded.
A jittery brunette peeked her head in. “Yeah?”
“Can you order in some Pizza Hut and Hoong’s? And make up nine rooms up on my floor. Ask Wesley to watch them while Gunn and Lorne help you, and if possible, get Cordelia,” Angel said.
She nodded and disappeared through the door.
“Nine?”
“One for you.”
“How thoughtful, but I won’t be staying.” Whistler sighed and rubbed at his eyes wearily. It was the first time Angel ever saw his long time demon friend looking so haggard and worn down. “Listen, Angel,” he began, “It’s been a long month for me. The Powers recruited me to specifically find these kids and bring them here . . . to you.”
The vampire shook his head. “I don’t understand. Why?”
“They’ve been through a lot,” Whistler explained, “Each one of them. Some of them have lost their families, one of them didn’t even have any. Others had to be saved from the life they were living and the rest have been alone for quite a while now. They have no one else. They need guidance . . . people they can call their friends, their family. They need stability.”
“I still don’t get why they were sent here . . . to me?” Angel questioned more than stated. “I mean, I have a feeling that The Powers know about all my troubles with Connor. Leaving eight other teenagers in my care will drive me to an early death.”
Whistler lifted a brow.
“You know what I mean.”
Whistler nodded and sighed. “I don’t know what they’re up to.”
It was Angel’s turn to lift a brow.
“Okay, so maybe I have a little idea, but that’s not the point. You have no clue how much these kids need you.”
Angel became quiet, remembering the way Ariella had jumped into his arms calling him Daddy. “I’m afraid to ask why,” he finally mumbled out.
“Because they’re your children,” Whistler said, finally dropping the bomb.
The vampire began laughing like a madman.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
“Bet you all twenty that he shits or pisses his pants,” Aiden smirked, talking to no one in particular after Whistler and Angel disappeared into the kitchen.
“Vampires can’t do either,” one of the older boys, Liam, reminded him in a monotone voice as he stared into space with empty blue eyes. His twin sister, Eliza, looked at him worriedly before placing a comforting hand on his arm. Brushing back a stray strand of his jet black hair, she gazed at him questioningly. He said nothing and she sighed and rested her head against his shoulder, feeling a bit of her tension leave her body at her brother’s presence.
“Bet you a hundred that he’ll end up tossing around the short demon like a rag doll by the end of the night . . . that or kill him,” the mouthy blonde named Brooke retorted.
“My dad would never do that,” Ariella protested, walking back towards the group with a frown marring her young face.
“Ohhh,” Aiden smirked, “Little girl’s gettin’ defensive. Sorry to burst your bubble, chicklet, but your father’s not an angel . . . despite his name, and that’s the awful truth about it.”
Ariella’s lower lip trembled.
“Oh, geez, here comes the waterworks,” Aiden sighed inaudibly.
“Leave her alone,” Eliza said, frowning at the blonde.
The young male glared at her in return. “What are you gonna do about it?”
“C’mon, guys,” the oldest, Austin said, a small smile on his face as he stared into each seven pairs of eyes, “I know that we’re all tired and more than a little confused about what’s happening here. But if we’re gonna get through this, we all need to stay off each other’s throats. It’s bad enough we’re in such an unfamiliar place but . . . I think it’ll do us all some good if we just calm down a bit and let this all play out. Remember, everything happens for a reason, and I know we’re all here with different purposes and it's just a matter of time before we find that purpose,” he said, his comforting grin putting everyone a little bit at ease through their defenses and doubt. “So until then, let’s try and not kill each other.”
“Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah,” Aiden rolled his eyes and slapped the other boy on the back, “Quit with the melodramatic, Aussie. You’re making me tear up with all this Chicken Soup Memoirs,” he added as he mockingly dabbed away false tears.
Austin sighed and shook his head lightly. He had been the first person Whistler picked up from his quest to search for the eight of them. Aiden had been next, so the two of them ended up spending more time together. And during that time, Austin had concluded a few things about Aiden: he was cynical, completely arrogant with the attitude of a punk rocker clashing with that of a stuck up French male model. He also had a rebel’s heart in him.
“I agree,” Brooke added. “We don’t need any more of your ‘grasshopper’ wisdom shoved down our throats.”
Austin smiled. “ ‘It requires wisdom to understand wisdom,’ ” he told her.
Brooke’s glare was cold enough to freeze fire. “Would you quit with the Sigmund Freud bullshit,” she demanded through gritted teeth, “I’m so sick of your philosopher, Chinese proverb psycho babble. And did you just insinuate that I’m stupid?”
“No . . . not really, and the quote was actually from Walter Lippman. He also says that . . . ”
“Give me one more historical line from people who are long dead, and I will have to hurt you,” she warned him.
Austin was quiet before giving into his needs and saying, “ ‘If you are patient in one moment of anger, you will escape a hundred years of sorrow.’ ”
A look, mad enough to kill, stared back at him with enormous contempt. “You won’t live for another minute if you keep this up, Socrates,” she said through gritted teeth.
He smiled as though he had no worries in the world and that Brooke’s comment gave him pleasure instead of fear and distress. “I’m sorry,” he apologized sincerely, “I had to say it.”
“Damn. And I thought our never ending banters here are pretty bad,” Gunn commented on the strangers’ verbal spats. All eight teens looked at him. “Just sayin’,” he said and backed away slowly.
“Feisty bunch, aren’t they?” Lorne smiled, a bit impressed. The green demon admired anyone who had some fire and spark in them.
“More like evil bunch, but feisty can work too,” Cordelia mumbled.
“Cute,” Aiden laughed heartily before suddenly stopping in the midst of it and crudely saying in a monotone voice, “Your lack of humor is giving me the hives. Tell me, does Angel get a hard on when your unentertaining hilarity flips on?”
“Stop it, Aiden,” Liam advised quietly.
“Shove it, Broody Jr.,” Aiden warned, pointing a firm finger at him.
Liam clenched and unclenched his jaws and kept quiet. The two of them hadn’t been getting along throughout the whole trip with Whistler and the others. Maybe it was both of their whole male egos trying to be the alpha male of all eight of them.
Aiden looked at Cordelia. “Listen, Jolly Blonde Giant. Why don’t you go elsewhere? Perhaps Rodeo Drive or something or another? Even the ‘Hooker Alley’ I noticed a few blocks from here will do ’cause . . . you’re really starting to bug me,” he nodded to stress his statement.
“I’m starting to bug you!? That’s a laugh,” Cordelia said derisively, hands on her hips. She glared at Aiden. “What the hell is your problem, kid?” she commanded, “I don’t need this abuse from you. You don’t even know me.”
Aiden looked bored before shooting the tall woman a malicious expression. “I know you,” he guaranteed her, nodding. “What?” he asked, “Finally getting a taste of your own medicine, Queen C?”
“What are you talking about?” Cordelia demanded in confusion.
“I’ve read up on you,” Aiden explained before Austin noticed his blue eyes cloud over a bit with something akin to sadness, “In my mother’s diaries. Cordelia Chase. Grade-A Bitch and then some, right?”
“I’ve grown up. I’m no longer her,” she shook her head.
Aiden laughed. “You’ll always be her,” he snarled.
Before Cordelia could reply to that, the youngest and quietest boy of all the males within the assembly finally spoke up, “Someone should call her. She needs to be here.”
“Who?” Wesley asked, his eyes finally lifting up from the book he was reading.
Tristan stood up and walked towards the opposite entrance doorway, gazing out into the night. “Her . . . ”
“You have to be more specific than that, sweetheart,” Cordelia said.
Angel’s shout from the kitchen caught all their attention, except for Tristan who continued to look outside. “To you, a demon, yes! Jesus, Whistler, that’s child abuse! Fred!”
Fred jumped a little before rushing towards the voice.
“He says jump, the girl practically asks ‘How high?’ ” Aiden grumbled disgustedly.
“Your snide remarks are really starting to piss me off,” Cordelia grinded out.
Aiden ran his tongue along the edges of his upper teeth. “How much?” he asked spitefully.
“A lot.”
“Good. Happy to hear it. Now, how much of my cruel comebacks will it take for you to get outta my face?”
With a growl, Cordelia stomped off upstairs just as Fred came back and picked up the phone.
Aiden laughed and sat back on the couch triumphantly. “Guess it was that much.”
“Serves the bitch right,” Brooke and Eliza mumbled together. They stared at each other in surprise, blue eyes meeting brown ones. The two girls hadn’t really talked much during their arduous journey. Hesitant looks and the occasional stares occurred between the two females.
Aiden sighed. “I don’t know about you kids but . . . a basket of buffalo wings and a bottle of beer sounds mighty fine right now,” he said with his head thrown back and his eyes assessing the dark ceiling.
“Well . . . pizza and Chinese is on the way,” Fred told him softly as she passed around bottles of clean, spring water.
He smirked. “Not exactly five star but you won’t hear me complaining. Food is food . . . and if it’s free, then that’s even better, ey?” he asked, smacking Austin on his shoulder as the older boy gazed at him curiously.
Lorne quietly studied the boy, “You know, I sense a lot of bitterness in you.”
“Keep it to yourself, Green Jell-o. I don’t need your wisdom bull slash aura readings. If I ever need one, I’ll call Madame Cleo,” he assured the fashion victim demon. He then raised his bottle and said, “To our future, gang. And lets all pray to God or whoever it is up there that we survive to see it one day,” and brought it to his lips, taking a large gulp of water.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
“Throughout all this time, your humor never ceases to amaze me,” Angel chuckled.
Whistler sighed and shook his head. “I wish to the PTB this is all a great big joke, but it’s not, Angel,” he said, his eyes serious and his whole body slumped tiredly and wearily. “They want you to take care of these kids and protect them with your life.” His eyes met Angel’s and held it, “The end is near. Our side needs soldiers . . . fighters. Capable ones, ones that hold power in their blood and will learn straight from the best and only the best.”
Angel stayed quiet as he took in all this information.
“The End of Days will arrive slowly . . . but surely and with a force. All 8 of them will have to be there to fight, to help. And they will, Angel, they have to be there,” the demon nodded as though he knew for certain. “You need to not only train them for the upcoming war, but to assist them with their own personal battles. Without these kids by your side, by our side, all will be lost. Quite literally,” Whistler continued on, rubbing his face exhaustedly, “They’re destined to be warriors. All of them . . . and you need to help them, teach them how to get there both mentally and physically.”
Angel still said nothing as his gaze landed on a spot on the table.
Whistler took a deep breath, the next portion of his well-planned speech taking its toll on him with its somber subject. “But they not only need an instructor on the finer points of martial arts or kick boxing . . . they need a father,” Whistler held his breath and then whispered, “ . . . as well as a mother.”
Angel’s eyes shot up in fear.
“You’ll need to call Buffy.”
Angel shook his head in denial. It was one thing to turn over 8 teenagers into his care, but Buffy’s too? No. That was more trouble than it was worth to have her working alongside him once more. Like the formidable team they used to be. There would be too much tension and unsettled differences. For God’s sakes, he was trying to move on. Didn’t the Powers understand that? He wanted to put the wistful memory of Buffy behind him and store it in the back of his mind and heart where he can smile fondly over it but not have his heart breaking every time he remembered her smile, her grace, her beauty, and just everything else about her. He needed to move ahead with his life . . . er . . . unlife. Whatever.
“No. I can’t.”
“You can and you will,” Whistler urged with a force.
Angel stood up and began pacing. No. He feared even the idea of Buffy coming to LA to stay , even just for a little while. If what Whistler was saying was true, they had children. Together. As in, the two of them . . . copulating to create these offspring of theirs. Even the thought, the image of it caused a riot with his soul and his undead heart, which he had thought had already began to forget . . . or suppress was more like it. The awkwardness of it will only cause more trouble, and the longing of it will cause havoc with his mind and body. He may be 250 and plus years old, but his virility when it came to Buffy was as strong as ever. And he could never risk it. “You don’t understand.”
“No. You don’t understand,” Whistler said, closing his eyes. “All those kids out there? They’re all hers. Straight from her flesh and blood.”
“They’re mine too.”
Whistler sighed. “Three of them aren’t fully yours,” he grumbled.
Angel stopped in his tracks. “Fully?” he asked slowly, “You said they were mine. What are you trying to say?”
Whistler met his gaze. “Three of them are Spike’s.” There was the bomb and Angel’s face grew enraged.
“Spike?!”
Whistler sighed again and nodded. “Yup.”
“The PTB actually allowed Spike to have offspring?” Angel continued in his fury, “And from Buffy, too? Are they insane? Do they not know or . . . or understand that he’s a soulless killer with nothing more in his mind than blood?”
“Angel . . . ”
“No, Whistler,” Angel shook his head, his unfair jealousy at the thought of Buffy with Spike driving him as he went on with his tirade. The thought and the image of Buffy with Spike. Together. Doing the dirty deed was just . . . wrong. Spike being blessed with children. No. “This is Spike we’re talking about. William the Bloody. Don’t you remember him? Used to drive railroad spikes through people’s body while they cried out in anguish. And the PTB actually blessed him with children?”
“And who the hell do you think you are judging anyone? Least of all, my own father?”
Both demons looked up to find of the teens standing in the doorway, her arms crossed firmly against her chest as she glared daggers at Angel.
“Paige, go back . . . ”
“How, dare you,” she continued on, her teeth clenched together as she held onto her rising temper, “Who are you to criticize my father like you’re some kind of God’s gift?” she demanded with contempt in her voice. “You may not approve or even like him, but he is a good man. A man who made amends for his past transgressions in any and every way possible. He deserved the life he received after the Hellmouth closed and he got his Shanshu. He deserved every bit of happiness he received from my mother, me, and everything else in his life.” Her blue eyes became glassy as she went on to spit fire and scorn, “And I will not stand by while you drag his name through the dirt and wash it in blood like you were any better before you, yourself, got a shiny soul,” she tilted up her chin and added, “And trust me . . . he’s better than you . . . and definitely more of a man than you’ll ever be.”
Haughty laughter emitted behind her before Angel could stutter a lame reply to her rather admiring monologue about Spike. Aiden appeared, clapping loudly as he smirked and threw a careless arm over Paige’s tense shoulders. He chuckled for a few more seconds before staring at both demons. “Although I don’t really agree with her, you gotta hand it,” he said rather proudly, “The chit’s got spunk. And balls to spare!” he said, making an obscene gesture with his hand.
“Aiden . . . ” Whistler began but was quickly interrupted by another arrival.
“I don’t understand why you guys have to bully my dad. You’re in his house. You need to respect him,” Ariella suddenly joined in, frowning at the two blondes as she stood in the opposite side of the doorway.
Aiden laughed and leaned carelessly against the other side, arm still around Paige’s as the pair stared at the small skinny brunette. “Damn. For a tiny brat, you’re hella hostile. Kinda like a Chihuahua. Big dog in a little rat-like body. Think they can take on a pit bull when in reality they can only fight off a cockroach,” he chuckled.
“Leave her alone,” Liam said, joining into the fold as well, causing Whistler to throw his arms in the air in defeat.
“Ohhh, Poofy Jr. to the rescue, awaay!” Aiden said mockingly and then pulled lightly at his shirt, “You wearin’ your special tights under there? Big Kid Pull-Ups over some pink leotards?”
Aiden’s laughter was quickly joined by Brooke’s as she came forward and joined the group. It was two to three now. Buffy and Spike’s brood against Buffy and Angel’s, and the two ‘adults’ felt it had only just begun.
Liam’s jaws clenched as Brooke chucked him lightly under the chin. “C’mon, Lee. Don’t be so uptight. Loosen up a bit,” she said, moving her shoulders to emphasize the point.
“I will,” the boy said, still glaring disdainfully at his opponent with a mixture disgust and annoyance, “when he grows up and quits picking on a young girl half his size like he’s 12 years old.” Liam smirked humorlessly, “Takes too much after Spike . . . all his unpleasant qualities anyway. Next thing you know, he’ll be drawling an English cockney accent, donning on a black leather duster, and smoking up a storm from here to an early grave,” he mocked, but he wasn’t done, “Good luck with that. I’m sure Spike’ll be very proud . . . and especially Buffy, right?”
Aiden’s amused expression turned cold, his full lips set grimly as his jaw muscles flexed beneath his skin. His blue eyes darkened and his fists clenched in his sides. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stop right there,” Aiden growled through gritting teeth.
Liam smiled, knowing he was manipulating a weapon no one would dare use. After a bit of a tiff with Whistler and a few other little information through conversations and brought up subjects throughout the entire month they had been together, Liam had observed him and concluded a few things about the cocky blonde: Aiden had father issues. Serious ones that ranged from loathing to revulsion. And more importantly, Aiden felt a deep hurt whenever it came to his mother.
Liam knew it wasn’t fair to use Aiden’s family problems against him, but the boy needed to be taken down a notch or two. Plus, Liam was far from sick of him and it was high time he retaliated with his own barbs, no matter how more cutting they seemed to be.
“I wonder what happened?” Liam speculated sarcastically, “Did she up and leave you and your Dad’s sorry ass?” Liam shrugged an lifted a brow. “Wouldn’t be surprised. Her son’s father’s a drunken lout who gamble with kittens like he has nothing else to do with his unlife . . . not to mention . . . her kid turned out to be just like him and so much more. She would be so proud, don’t you think?”
Aiden nostrils flared as he kept short rein on his temper. “Fuck you.”
Liam continued on as if he didn’t hear him, power urging him on at bringing the arrogant bastard to his knees. With a killer smile that he inherited from his father, he went on, “Maybe she left to only make up for her mistake of having you . . . ”
A hard punch to the face stopped Liam from saying anything else, but he laughed. A laugh that brought chills to everyone in the room and worked its way down their spines, especially Angel who knew that laugh better than anyone else. It was like Angelus had been brought forth through this boy, and Angel feared him.
Liam’s gaze fell and connected with Aiden’s once more. “It felt good, huh?” he asked him, “To be a real man for once.”
Aiden threw out his arm to punch him again but Austin caught it and grasped it in his surprisingly strong hand. And for once since the day they all met the easy going young man with the comforting smiles and the laid back attitude, Austin looked madder than hell.
Eliza came forward and squeezed Liam’s arm to warn him about what he was doing and saying. He shrugged her away and continued to glare at Aiden. She then looked up, her eyes locking with Angel’s as he noted her anxiety and her plead. For what? He didn’t know, but something about her expression tore at his heart and somehow made him a bit uneasy . . . as though beneath all her innocence was a certain danger she couldn’t hide . . . or run from.
“Quit it, Aiden,” Austin frowned, coming between the pair and lifting his arms out to keep them apart. Liam smirked and Austin shot him a glare. “That’s enough, Lee,” he demanded. “You guys are acting like a bunch of toddlers.”
“That or two bitches on a PMS trip,” Brooke grumbled loud enough.
Austin ignored her. “This ends here and now,” he told both hostile males. “We’re all on the edge here and ready to tear each other’s eyes out. It’s understandable. It’s been a month since we’ve all been together. There hasn’t been a minute in which we weren’t stuck with each other. Tension can run high. And it’s also been a month since we’ve had a good meal and a good rest. We’re all pissy and tired, but beating the crap outta each other is not gonna help us any.”
Everyone kept silent, even Angel and Whistler who listened intently to the young man as he tried to wear down the sharp edges of everyone’s antagonistic and defensive manners.
“Whether we like it or not, we’re trapped in this dimension with one another. Yeah, it sucks and you all wanna go home or go elsewhere, but that’s not gonna happen ‘cause our destiny lies here in this place. Hate it and fear it as we might, we have a greater purpose here,” he said, staring at each one of them, “And we can either return to the past and reminisce over the good or bad times and sulk about it, stay in the present and stubbornly stay here and do nothing about our lives, or we can all move forward and make the best of our situation.”
Aiden looked and way and lowered his arm, hating the smug look on Liam’s face. But he swallowed his pride and tilted up his chin.
“Life is not hearts and roses, kids, and I have a feeling we all know and understand that,” Austin said, lowering his own arms as he took a step back from them. “So what’s it gonna be? End this now, get some food in our stomachs and rest up? Or are you two gonna continue this and brawl it out like children and have us sit and watch and then later tend to your wounds and never get to eat or sleep?”
Liam and Aiden kept silent.
“Don’t pick on her again,” Liam warned.
“Don’t compare me to Spike,” Aiden countered back before spitting on Liam’s black shoes and stomping off.
Liam tensed, but Eliza laid a hand on his shoulder and shook her head, “Please, Liam, just let it go.” Liam’s violent stance finally melted into weariness as though he had been possessed throughout that whole time. Eliza led him back towards the lobby and the others dispersed, following them as well.
Austin’s tired gaze met Angel’s and pride surged through the vampire’s body. He knew, as he studied the tall handsome young man with the short brown hair and the deep set brown eyes that this was his flesh and blood. There were subtle traces of Buffy on the lad’s face, but he was definitely a replica of Angel.
Austin gave him a crooked smile and left quietly.
“You should be proud of that one,” Whistler said, “Proud of them all.”
Continued to Chapter 2: One By One
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