Fred sat down on the couch next to him, cocking her head and focusing on William.
"Maybe we're going about this wrong..." She looked up at Gunn. "Looking at prophecies."

Gunn was stumped, "huh".

"Well, I mean, Wesley is assuming that this is Shanshu.... Well...." She stood up slowly. "We haven't thought about Darla."

"What about Darla?"

Fred rolled her eyes. "Wolfram and Hart brought back Darla as a human. Maybe... Maybe they did it again. I mean, it wouldn't surprise me if they went behind Angel's back."

"And they put him in as a plant?

Now that's a refreshing thought. Not."

"I'm not going to put it past them." Fred wrinkled her nose. "But why she brought him back all crazy...."

"Well... we don't know what Darla was like when they brought her back. I mean, even with a soul, who knows where he ended up after dying... He was a vampire..."

"We should ask around. See if anyone knows anything. Be casual about it."

"So you can go through Knox's mind a bit more?"

He winced at the name, while trying to give his leer a good try.

"Charles..." Fred sighed. "Please don't."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't. It's just... Hard, seeing you with him. And yeah, I know I haven't been... "

"You've been seeing Electro-gal for months!"

"I know! That's the worst part. Knowing that I've got no right. God I haven't felt this bad since..."

Flashes of memory went through his mind, chasing Matthew in the tunnels, finding him, a boy, Connor....

Who was Conner?

"Charles? Charles, are you all right?"

"Fred. Have you... This is stupid. Have you ever met a guy called Connor?"

He was so sure she was gonna hit him for this. Yet another guy he had no right to be angry about but.... it kept playing through his mind. The name, memories that just wouldn't take form.

Fred's eyes grew wide. "You mean... It's not just me?"

"Not just..." he stared at her in shock.

"It keeps coming up... as if I'm supposed to remember, only I don't... and...."

"I've been having these weird flashes. Like memories. But I've never met anyone named Connor."

"Me neither."

"Then why?"

Fred wrung her hands. "I don't know. Maybe we should talk to Wesley."

"Like when? He's barely ever around us anymore. Either he's covering himself under his books, or he's with 'Lilah'. Or just trying to avoid 'Her'. It's like he doesn't even want to see us anymore when it's not case related."

"Well, who else would have any idea? It's not like we can talk to Angel about his--" Fred blinked. "His... I just..." She rubbed her head. "I lost it."

"What happened between us all Fred? I remember us being friends and then something happened. I'm just not clear what... And things just changed."

"I know...." Fred nodded. "We won't talk to Wesley... I don't think he'll know anything anyway. We need to find Angel."

"Yeah, as if he's ever just around us anymore."

Damn, everything was just so wrong.

"What about Lorne?

He might know something... I mean, he always seems more in tune than we are. How do we ask him without sounding completely insane?"

Fred shrugged. "I dunno... 'Oh Lorne you wouldn't happen to know a psychotic teenager named Connor? Would you?'"

"You've never used a tazer have you?"

*****

He'd been staring at his hands almost since Angel, Angelus left, refusing to look up to the others, to listen to them. Angel's minions, were they going to kill him. Angelus, sire of sire, sire.

Blood. So much.

He wanted to yell at him, scream.
"What did you make me, why did you turn me into this?"
But he didn't dare. Couldn't… No right, no doubt…

"It was me… All me."

And that was the truth. All the killings his, all the blood his to bear.

And he could remember, glorious memories, the four of them, then two. Him and Dru, beautiful Dru. His dark ravenous goddess. All the blood he spilled for her, the nightmares. Her, him…

"Dru used to love her dolls, stack em up she did. Miss Edith was naughty too often… Had to be punished. All of them."

And then Angelus didn't come home, left them, all alone, wandering. Trying.

Coming back, happy homecoming, wasted.
"Where were you sire. Where?"

But the blood was gone, his hands still covered, still seeking.

And the minions wouldn't see it, wouldn't hold. There were two of them, the others left… they all left.

Buffy? Where?

But she was never here, was she?
Was she real? Had he just imagined her? His salvation?

This was real right? The two of them, talking, staring..

Angel, always him, always....

And he was falling, hitting the floor, staring up at a boy.

A boy with eyes...Another boy running, no not him.

The worlds were fading, splintering. Happy family, ... cracking.

He grabbed his head, shutting his eyes. If he kept them open, he got strange double-vision, both the real world and the one in his head... The one of the boy....

The boy that didn't fit.

"Blood. He's blood. Boy."

Spike rocked back and forth, that face burned in his mind. The boy with the face of an angel. He was in trouble.

"Knife, blood on the knife. Boy."

He cringed as they all surrounded him, their voices loud, too loud, after the silence. Asking, demanding...

But all he could see was the boy, his pain, utter pain.

******

Connor had just gone through an hour of the most boring history class he'd ever imagined. God how bad could this be.

Paul was nowhere to be seen. Connor grabbed one of his shirts, replacing the one he'd accidentally smudged when he'd uh fallen asleep, right on top of the clayheap they were supposed to be admiring. He moved to the mirror, not really paying attention and almost slipping on something. He barely held up on the cabinet, breaking it with his force.

He stared down, wondering what Paul had left lying around now. He lifted his foot, trying to get it out from under, nearly shrieking when he saw it. Skin.

Wet skin on the floor, skin, with Paul's face.

And it was red.

Blood?

"Paul?" connor started to back off, ready to call for help when he turned around, running smack into Paul who was standing in the doorway.

"Damn you weren't supposed to see that."

tbc