Shadow Of the Day

“I close both locks below the window
I close both blinds and turn away
Sometimes solutions aren’t so simple
Sometimes goodbye’s the only way

And the sun will set for you
The sun will set for you
And the shadow of the day
Will embrace the world in grey
And the sun will set for you

In the cards and flowers on your window
Your friends all plead for you to stay
Sometimes beginnings aren’t so simple
Sometimes goodbye’s the only way

And the shadow of the day
Will embrace the world in grey
And the sun will set for you” (Shadow of the Day-Linkin Park Minutes to Midnight 2007)

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Walking down the halls of Wolfram and Hart, eyes wide and staring, Connor quietly made his way towards the law firm’s hospital wing. His thoughts were a chaotic mess. His life was false. None of his memories, his family, was his. In reality, he had grown up in a hell dimension. His mother and a father were monsters, and he had a destiny he wanted no part of.

A part of him was furious with Angel. He had once again, caused his world to crumble around him, but another part understood. Connor had been so angry, so hurt. Living in Quor-toth had been simple, live or die, but when he had returned, everything changed. He no longer knew what was right and wrong. Demons could be good, and humans could be evil. It all made no sense, and at the time, he had been willing to destroy himself to find the peace he craved.

Now he was just thankful he had another chance to make things right, starting with saving his Uncle.

Luckily for Connor, everyone seemed too busy to care about one wide-eyed college student, and he made it to Spike’s room unnoticed.

Slipping inside the sterile hospital room, Connor quickly closed the door and turned the lock in order to block any unwanted visitors.

Seeing the sickly thin being lying on the bed before him caused Connor’s heart to clench. His father had done this. Granted, the Senior Partners were equally to blame, but Connor still grieved for the man he was just now remembering.

Making his way to Spike’s bedside, Connor slowly removed the small box cutter from his pocket. Pushing the blade out, Connor made a shallow cut across his left palm. Putting the box cutter on the chair’s seat, Connor used his right hand to gently push Spike’s head back and open his mouth. Squeezing his hand Connor let his blood drip down Spike’s throat.

At first, nothing happened, and then gradually the ridged brow and fangs receded. Eyelids fluttered as if dreaming, and then slowly, bright blue eyes opened.

Relief flooded Connor’s body causing a wide smile to bloom across his face. Raising one hand to wipe the sweat away from Spike’s brow, Connor whispered a heart felt greeting.

“Hello Uncle, welcome back.”

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“Come on Uncle Will,” Connor said, helping the weaker man from the hospital bed. “We need to get you out of here.”

Looking at Connor, Spike opened his mouth, closed it, and again, shook his head in bewilderment. Angel had a son, with Darla no less. On top of that, it seemed Darla had been the one to send the boy to Wolfram and Hart to save him. A large part of Spike was tempted to find out if an ice-skating rink had opened up in hell.

Allowing Connor to support him, Spike followed the teen through the near empty hallways of Wolfram and Hart. Entering the stairwell, Connor led them down to the parking garage and to a beat up blue Volkswagen Beetle. Well, now that Spike was closer he could see it was only partially blue. One side door was green and the hood was white.

Raising one eyebrow, Spike eyed the tiny miss-matched Beetle.

“Nice car,” Spike said as he lowered himself into the passenger’s seat. The car seemed tinier once he was inside, and Spike had to scrunch his legs up while searching for the lever to scoot his seat back.

“It’s mine,” Connor said as he reached over from the driver’s side and pulled the lever. The seat scooted back, and Spike was finally able to remove his knees from under his chin.

Luckily, they got the little car’s engine running and were soon jouncing along the street, weaving in and out of traffic.

“Where are we going?” Spike asked, as he leaned back in his seat.

“Um, Cleveland.”

“The Hellmouth?” Spike asked. “Bloody hell, what for?”

“I know people. We’ll be safe there,” Connor answered with a shrug.

Sighing, Spike turned his eyes towards the car window, letting his gaze sweep over the darkened landscape. Angel’s status as champion was shaky at best and he knew they had to leave. Until they managed to free him from Wolfram and Hart’s influence, Spike and Connor were in danger. However, Spike didn’t want to leave. Dawn was there, and so were Fred and Lorne. They were his friends and he wanted them safe. He knew they could take care of themselves, especially with Buffy there, but still, Spike worried.

“And then what nephew?”

“I don’t know.”

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Hanging up the phone, Sam rubbed his hands over weary eyes. Sam had expected the phone call, and a sense of relief rushed through him at the sound of his friend’s voice on the other end. The last couple of days had been rough. On top of his worry, they had handled three vengeful spirits in two days, and now he had to tell his brother about the change in plans.

The car door opening pulled Sam from his thoughts, and he waited while Dean quickly lowered himself into the driver’s seat, bags of food and soft drinks filling his arms.

“Dude, take some of this would you?”

Once Sam relived him of part of his burden, Dean settled back into his seat, the bag holding his food resting on his lap.

“Looks like we’ll be heading south,” Dean said while he rummaged through the bag. “Heard some rumors about that haunted highway you were researching last night.”

Burger in hand, Dean turned to face his brother. Seeing the look on Sam’s face, Dean raised one eyebrow.

“Why do I get the feeling we won’t be going south?”

“I got a call from a friend,” Sam answered.

“A friend? And who is this friend Sammy?”

“His name is Connor. We shared a few classes at Stanford.”

Sighing, Dean gave his brother his best “and?” look, hoping he would elaborate.

“He knows about demons,” Sam said. “He called a few days ago, said he might need our help, but couldn’t say why. He just called and told me he and his uncle are on their way to Cleveland. Connor wants us to meet them there.”

“The Hellmouth?” Dean cried out. “Why in the hell would this friend of yours want to go there?”

“He promised to explain everything once we got there.”

Sighing, Dean set his food aside and started the Impala. The familiar rumble of the engine soothed his nerves.

“Well,” Dean said, weariness filling his words. “Maybe I’ll get a trip to the Rock ‘N’ Roll Hall of Fame out of this.”

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The alarm shrieking in the conference room stopped all discussion. People flew from chairs and rushed towards the door. Cordelia reached it first.

“What’s going on?” Cordelia demanded as she grabbed the arm of an employee passing by.

“It’s the hospital wing,” the guy answered as he shrank back from the fierce look in Cordelia’s eyes. “Something happened to that Seer, but I don’t know what.”

Shoving the guy away, Cordelia ran down the hallway, heart pounding in her chest. She could hear the other’s footsteps behind her and soon she was following Buffy’s rapidly disappearing form.

Cursing slayer speed and evil law firms, Cordelia pressed forward. If something bad had happened to Spike, Cordelia didn’t know if she would be able to control an enraged slayer. A large part of her didn’t know if she wanted too.

Finally reaching Spike’s hospital room, Cordelia stopped just short of knocking Buffy over.

Spike’s hospital bed was empty, except for the ugly skull ring resting in the center.

“You’re too late,” Lilah said, her tone smug. She was reclining in an empty chair next to the bed, an amused smirk on her face. “Someone else got to him first.”


Finally! This one is finished, for now. There will be a sequel. There was always supposed to be a sequel. I just don’t know when I’ll get to writing it. I want to get “For Whom The Bell Tolls” finished first, but you never know. Thanks to all who reviewed, and I hope you enjoyed my story.