Chapter Text
Four vampires closed in on Connor. They were all bigger than him, one nearly by a foot. His stake had long since been lost. He ran towards a lamppost. He leapt into the air, using the metal post as a springboard, launching himself around in a roundhouse.
His foot connected with each of the vampires in quick succession. They fell backwards onto the ground.
Connor finished the kick, crouching on the ground. He smirked at the vampires, his blue eyes sparkling. Andrew zoomed in with his video camera, focusing on that feral glare.
"A natural at all fighting styles, a warrior raised among devils... A child born from darkness with the abilities to either ruin or save the world. He is Connor, the boy of destiny..."
Connor's head jerked up to the tree Andrew perched in. He rolled his eyes. "If you're going to stalk me, can you at least throw me a stake?"
"Oh right!" Andrew tried to balance his camera on his thigh so it was still pointed at Connor. He opened his bag, rooting around. "Stake, stake, stake.... Ah! Stake!" He held it up triumphantly.
One of the vampires had risen back up, grabbing Connor. Connor elbowed him in the jaw. "It's not doing me much good up there!"
"Oh!" Andrew threw the stake down.
Connor jumped up, kicking one of the vampires in a throat. He flipped over the one trying to grab him. He caught the stake in mid-air.
Andrew scooped up the camera, focusing in, not wanting to miss a moment. He leaned forward, clutching the tree branch so he wouldn't fall. "And the Destroyer-- The Boy Slayer-- Does what was born to do-- hunt and kill the vampyrs."
As the final vampire turned to dust, Connor tucked the stake into his jacket. He turned back to Andrew, sighing. "Can you please not do that?"
"Not do what?" Andrew asked, turning off his video camera, resting it on his thigh.
"That." Connor gestured to the camera. He shook his head. "It makes me uncomfortable you video taping me while I'm killing vampires-- especially the narration."
Andrew tucked his camera into his bag. "It's very important that I document your progress. Rupert wants to see how well you fight. Since he can't be here in person, I'm just going to have to send him a tape. The Watcher's Council is very excited about having you fighting for our team."
"I'm not," Connor stressed. "I'm fighting on my team. I want to kill the demons that are trying to kill me and go back to my life. I'm not a Slayer."
"Dude, you think it's that simple? You just decide to give up when the Big Bad is gone?" Andrew pointed a finger at Connor. "What if Luke Skywalker had given up after the first Death Star was destroyed?"
Connor shrugged. "George Lucas wouldn't be a billionaire who keeps churning out crappy prequels?" He shook his head. "It's not my life anymore. Angel made sure of that. I don't have a choice in this."
"You're the one who came to me. I was all ready to go back to England and you said you couldn't do this alone." Andrew put his bag over his shoulder and grabbed the trunk of the tree, trying to manoeuvre his way down.
"I meant with demon research and giving me weapons. I don't need to have a video biographer."
Andrew fell out of the tree, flailing ineffectually before slamming hard against the ground. "Ow!"
Connor strode over to him, furrowing his brow. "Are you all right?"
Turning to face up, Andrew whimpered. "I bit my tongue."
Connor held out a hand. He gripped Andrew's arm, pulling him back to his feet. Andrew dusted himself off, adjusting his bag. "I'm not trying to be annoying. I'm really, really not. I just want to help."
"Do all Watchers act like this?" Connor began to walk along the path back to his dormitory.
Andrew ran to catch up with Connor. He clutched his bag close to his chest. "Rupert told us to develop our own style. The rigours of the old Watcher's Council led to its destruction."
"That the long way to say no?" Connor ran a hand through his hair. "I said I'd go along with this Watcher thing, but we need some rules. One: No camera. I don't do cameras. They make me nervous."
"But these tapes could help you hone your skills, show you your weakness."
Connor furrowed his brow, frowning at Andrew. "I know how to kill demons. I don't need a play-by-play. I can do this my way."
As he and Andrew walked along, a whispy black creature appeared. It floated through the air, completely unnoticed by the two men. Silently it drifted through the air, searching for warm bodies.
The Nyazian Prophecies
Starring
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 |
 |
 |
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Vincent Kartheiser
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Anna Paquin
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Bret Harrison
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and Tom Lenk
as Andrew Wells |
****
Guest Starring
Mageina Tovah
Kou Shibasaki
Jared Hillman
Willie Garson
Written by
Emcee
"Hey Connor."
Connor jerked away from the prod to the shoulder. He grunted, squeezing his eyes shut tighter. He tried to snuggle deeper into his pillow.
Only, he wasn't lying on his pillow. He opened his eyes. He was sitting at the desk in the living room, his head resting on his notebook. Jamie was standing next to him.
"You're on my glasses."
Connor sat up, running a hand through his mussed hair. "Oh. Sorry." He shuffled his books, picking up Jamie's glasses and handing them to him.
Jamie examined them closely, wiping the lenses on the hem of his shirt. He frowned at Connor. "You fell asleep at the desk? Dude, you're getting really bad."
He had come in late from patrolling with Andrew. It had taken him nearly an hour to convince Andrew that he couldn't smell any more vampires. He had a ton of homework to do. Most of it was still beneath him, unfinished. He had fallen asleep before he could make a dent in it. "We're in college," Connor replied flippantly. "Aren't we supposed to fall asleep in strange places doing homework?"
"Suppose so." Jamie opened the desk, pulling a half-eaten Mars bar from the drawer. He bit into it. "But if I ever get that dire, you have my personal permission to slap me upside the head."
"What time is it?" Connor asked, shifting in his seat. His body ached with the strange position he had slept in. He scrubbed his face, trying to get rid of the last vestiges of lethargy.
"Almost eleven-thirty." Jamie said, throwing his backpack onto the couch. He opened it, trying to force a few more books into it. "You missed your first class- Way to go, there, Riley. When did you even get in?"
"Late." Connor got up, cracking his neck. "Why didn't you wake me?"
"I'm not your mother," Jamie responded, grunting with effort as he tried to zip up his overflowing bag. "Jules tried to wake you. She was worried you were sick or something. Apparently you said you didn't give a flying sluk what time it was-- What the hell is a sluk?"
Connor froze, swallowing hard. He stared at Jamie, trying to find He shrugged it off. "How the heck should I know? Do I really have to explain everything I mutter in my sleep?"
Jamie blinked, a bit taken aback. "You really upset her." He tried to pick up his bag, but the weight was too much for him to take. "Believe me, I don't have a burning desire for my best friend to bone my little sister, but if you don't ask her out soon, I think her head will explode."
Connor picked up Jamie's bag in one hand. He helped Jamie slip it onto his shoulders. "I like Jules, she's sweet and everything, but--"
Jamie whirled around. He narrowed his gaze on Connor. "Hold on. Jules said that Salome was here when I was conked out. Did you finally land Miss CoHo?"
Eyes wide, Connor took a step back. "Salome?"
Jamie nodded. "Yeah. Salome. About yea tall," He gestured to his nose. "Gives us coffee. Purple hair. You called dibs on her first week of school-- Not that I would have asked her out. Bit too assertive for my tastes, but hey, different strokes for different folks. She finally take you out for a test drive?"
Connor shook his head. He hadn't been to the CoHo since he had found out Salome was a demon. He was still trying to adjust to the whole idea. He shrugged. "No. I'm not-- I'm not really asking her out anymore."
Jamie frowned. "Oh. Okay. That's... Unlike you. Yeah, that Andrew guy called. Twice." He adjusted his bag. "I've got to run. Later."
After giving Connor a quick shot in the arm, Jamie was out the door. Connor rubbed the back of his neck and looked at the clock. He had an hour or so before his next class. He could get some studying in before--
The phone rang. Connor crossed the room, picking the receiver of the cradle. "Jamie, Jules and Connor's place. Connor speaking."
"Ah, Connor, so glad I was able to reach you." Andrew affected a slight British accent, sounding haughty.
Connor groaned, sliding down into the desk chair. He rested his head against his hand. "What's up, Andrew? Find another demon who wants me dead?"
"Actually..." Andrew's voice lost the English, pompous note. He hemmed and hawed for a moment. "I was kinda hoping you and I could have a conversation. I need to write my Watcher diary. Since the diary is supposed to cover all the time you acted as a Slayer, we have a lot of time to cover."
"I'm not exactly a Slayer," Connor sighed. "Even if I was, I don't want to go over the finer details of every one of my kills from my old life."
"There needs to be accounts," Andrew chided. It came off whiny more than anything. "You are a thing without precedence. That needs to be recorded, put into... I dunno, records!"
"I'm a thing?" Connor shook his head. "Good-bye, Andrew."
"Wait wait wait!" Andrew cried, panicked. "Don't hang up! I didn't mean a thing. You're a... a... I dunno! What do you want me to say?"
"I can't do this now anyway, Andrew," Connor said. He stretched the phone cord so he could reach the fridge, kicking the door open with his foot. He pulled out a carton of milk, sniffing it. Finding the smell acceptable, he took a big gulp of it. "I have a class soon. I already missed my first class because of patrol last night. I'm not going to miss another so you can play Twenty Questions. Let me at least get the super important things in my life done."
Connor pulled a half-eaten sandwich out of the fridge. His name was written on plastic wrap. He unwrapped it, shoving the garbage into his pocket.
"You have a sacred duty--" Andrew started.
"Where does it say that?" Connor asked, taking a bite of his sandwich. He kicked the fridge door shut and turned, getting tangled in the phone cord. "Is there some other prophecy about me killing demons? Can I see it? Am I mentioned by name?"
Andrew paused. "I haven't seen the prophecies for myself. But there's a lot written about the son of the vampire with a soul."
Connor tried to untangle himself from the cord while still holding the phone and his sandwich. "Maybe its some other son of a vampire with a soul."
"Wouldn't be the first time the cryptic's caused trouble," Andrew muttered.
Connor furrowed his brow. "What was that?"
"Nothing! Go to class. We'll meet later." Andrew laughed. "It'll all be fine."
Andrew swept his arm over the bed, pushing the scattered books and discarded take out containers to the floor. He threw himself belly first onto the bed. He held the slim book in front of his face, opening to the first page.
"Chapter One. So you've met your Slayer." He narrated the book aloud in as friendly a voice as he could muster. He had read this book many times before, so much so he could almost recite it by heart. But it never hurt to refresh. "Many Slayers are upset when they first learn of their calling. It is the Watcher's responsibility to keep the Slayer's emotional state as steady as possible as they explore their destiny."
Andrew rolled onto his back and got off the bed. He began to circle a chair, focusing on it as if a person occupied it. "Now, Connor, I understand how those tormented memories of your traumatic childhood in a hell dimension and being manipulated by an evil higher power upsets you. And how your new, better life has totally been blow by demons wanting to kill you... But it's not all bad! No one can beat you up! Except Slayers and vampires and demons and witches and..."
He sighed and turned to the next page. "A Watcher should draw from personal experience to guide the Slayer in her journey." Andrew looked around the room. He picked up a pen from the table, scribbling something into the book. "His journey."
He looked up from the book, smiling brightly. "So I can totally teach you how to uncover an evil seal of doom and murder your best friend to activate it."
He frowned, shutting the book and throwing it over his shoulder. He threw himself back down onto the bed. He covered his face with his hands. "Great mentory things to say..."
He sat up, pointing a finger. "Many of the truths we cling to depend greatly on our point of view... No, that will just bring up his changed memories." He furrowed his brow, stroking his chin. He sighed. "To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure." He shook his head furiously. "No, that would just piss him off. Ah..." He nodded slowly. "There is no spoon." He stood back up, resuming his pace. "That just doesn't make any sense to a Slayer... Maybe something from Gandalf?"
He paused. "What would Rupert say?" He furrowed his brow, thinking back on his own mentor. "Andrew, do stop being tiresome. Yeah, that's not going to work."
Andrew crossed the room, sitting down beside the phone. He picked up the receiver and began to dial.
He bounced impatiently as he listened to the phone ring. He grinned when it was finally picked up. "Hey Rona! What's up there, girl? Been a long..." He frowned. "It's Andrew. Uh, Andrew Wells. I guess I sound different being so far away." His frown deepened. "Yeah. I left last week. I'm on permanent assignment in California now. You didn't notice? Oh. Well, yeah, I'm back in good ol' California." He smiled again, trying to force himself to sound pleasant. "I've got a new Slayer that I'm training personally."
He sunk down into his seat. "No, she hasn't tried to kill me yet. We're very careful during training." He scowled. "Since we, uh, haven't gotten to that yet. Is Rupert in?"
Andrew leaned his head on his hand, sighing deeply. He sat up straight after a moment, grinning. "Rupert! Hey! I'm so glad I was able to catch you." He winced. "Sorry. I... Ah... I didn't realize what time it was. I forgot you would be leading the girl in meditation. It's the big time difference. Maybe I'll get myself one of those watches that lets you see like three time zones at... Why did I call? It's Connor."
Andrew bent down a picked one of the discarded boxes off the ground. He sniffed it and then began to eat noodles out of it with his bare hands. "Well, he's being really, really stubborn. He doesn't want me video taping him--"
He sighed. "Yeah, I know some people don't like to be video taped. But he saw me with the camera? Did I ask first? Well... Not in the most technical sense... He doesn't want to help me fill in my diaries..."
Andrew threw the takeout box onto the table. "I know I begged for this assignment. But it's just so... so... Why is he being so difficult?"
He picked up the Slayer Handbook and began to flip through it again. "I've been reading the Slayer Handbook and there's nothing in here that will help me. Maybe Willow wrote it wrong.... Yes, I know Connor is a special case. Yes, I know I shouldn't expect him to act like any other Slayer."
Andrew furrowed his brow. "Where is he now? Well, he said he had some important things to take care of before he came by."
"Score!" Connor pumped his fist in the air, still clutching his hockey stick tightly. He did a lap around the net, doing a couple of turns on his rollerblades. "Once again, Riley completely humiliates Black at the net!"
Jamie scowled, retrieving the ball from inside of the net. "Riley's living off nothing but luck." He hit the ball back to Connor as he circled around. "Your ass is going to get totally spanked. I will never be defeated by someone who has not seen real ice." He readjusted his Rangers jersey.
"Stop fooling with your shirt. It's fine." Connor asked as he handled the ball, passing it back and forth in front of him. "I don't know why you wear that every time we play."
Jamie frowned, looking down at his jersey. "It's my lucky jersey."
Connor grinned. "Maybe it's broken." He looked over Jamie's shoulder. "Car."
Rolling up to the net, Connor helped Jamie lift it, carrying it over to the side of the road as the car came closer. He rested his head against the frame of the net, tapping his fingers impatiently as he waited for the car to pass.
"So how was class?" Jamie asked.
Connor shrugged. "Classy." He picked up the net as the car finally passed. "Game on."
Jamie took position back in the net. He slapped his stick against the asphalt. "You know, you used to hype classes a lot more. You're not even carrying your computer anymore!"
Connor did a figure eight, looking down at the ground. He sighed deeply. "I've got a lot on my mind right now. Classes are just sort of..." He shrugged again. "Classes."
"So who's this Andrew guy that's trying to get a hold of you?" Jamie asked.
Connor furrowed his brow. "Are we going to talk or are we going to play?"
"We're going to--" Jamie sighed. "Car."
Connor rolled his eyes, striding back to the net. He lifted it, pulling it to the side. "You know, we need to find a less busy street to play on. Either that or not talk as much during the game."
The Beetle coming up the street was old, falling apart. It was a hideous lime green, the paint flaking off. Instead of driving passed, it slowed and pulled up to the curb.
Connor frowned as he watched the car stop and Andrew step out. Andrew adjusted his jacket. "Ah! Connor! There you are!" He stepped towards Connor and Jamie.
Sighing, Connor turned to Jamie. "Do you think you can get the net away? I've got to--" He gestured to Andrew.
"Oh." Jamie furrowed his brow. He leaned over to Connor. "Why are you hanging out with this guy?" He whispered.
Connor shrugged. "It's complicated. I'll see you later."
He whirled around, nodding his head to Andrew. "Let's roll." He skated down the sidewalk. He shook his head, coasting along. Andrew's footsteps were heavy behind him.
Once they were at the curb, far out of Jamie's earshot, he turned around. He sighed as Andrew caught up to him. "So what's up? Why did you interrupt my hockey game?"
Andrew scowled, crossing his arms over his chest. He glared at Connor, pulling himself to full height. "You said you had important things to do. Super important things. Hockey is super important?"
Connor ran a hand through his hair. He shrugged. "I needed to blow off some steam."
"Blow off some steam?" Andrew arched an eyebrow. "You have destiny! A destiny written about in a dozen very vague and cryptic prophecies!" His body relaxed. "You know, Faith says that killing demons is chocked full of steam blowing offness..."
"I like hockey. I like my friend. I like playing hockey with my friend." He put a hand to his head. "We play after classes every week on Fridays. Why don't you make a note of that in your diary? It's something I do. It's something I don't really want to stop doing. It's something that stops me from getting really, really pissed off at you. Comprende?"
Andrew nodded. "Ah, no problemo, mi amigo. It can be your 'personal time'. Buffy says that's like really, really important. Are you done now?"
Connor sighed resignedly, nodding. "All right. Fine. Where's the hoop? I'll jump."
Jules perched on the edge of the desk, the receiver balanced between her head and shoulder. She swung her legs idly. "Things are going great here, Daddy. I'm finally getting to know my way around campus. I'm only getting lost every other day now! This apartment is really, really nice. Thanks for buying it for us..." She bit her lip. "How is everyone? Well, Jamie is-- Connor? Oh, he's..." Her cheeks flushed red. "He's, well, actually he's being really weird right now. Staying out late, coming home with bruises and stuff. He's also hanging out with the weird skanky punk girl from the CoHo."
She jumped off of the table, pulling the phone away from her ear. She winced. "Sorry, daddy. I shouldn't have used the s-word. She's just... Well, I don't like her. She's got tattoos and-- and guys like girls who have that sort of stuff."
She smiled broadly. "Aww... Daddy, I am not the most beautiful girl... Is he up to anything else? What? Are you worried about him? You know, I don't think he's into anything bad."
The door opened and Jamie entered, pulling off his jersey and tossing it onto the kitchen table.
Jules waved to her brother, smiling. "Daddy, Jamie just walked in. Do you want to--" She moved the phone away from her ear, frowning. She slowly lowered the phone, setting it back in the cradle. "I guess he had to go. You know how busy he is."
"Yeah." Jamie scowled, throwing himself down onto the couch. "I know. He's quite the beaver. Know and emphatically don't care."
Jules frowned deeper, sitting down beside Jamie. She rested her head against his shoulder. "Daddy loves you. He just has a weird way of showing it."
Rolling his eyes, Jamie shook his head. "Apparently you are thinking of Bizarro-Dad." He relaxed into the cushions. "He has more interest in our roommate than he does me."
"He has interest in Connor because he's your best friend." Jules nudged Jamie. "He wants to make sure you're not sharing an apartment with a guy who's no good."
Jamie laughed. "No, he wants to make sure you're not crushing on a guy who's no good."
Jules paled, eyes growing wide. "Umm... You know about that?"
"Yeah." Jamie put an arm around Jules' shoulders. "Hate to break this to you, but I think every person on campus knows."
Jules pulled away from Jamie, getting to her feet. "Does Connor know?"
Jamie nodded. "That's a big ten-four, kid."
Covering her face with her hands, Jules let out a moan. She fell back down onto the couch. "You're kidding me. I didn't want him to know that!" She peeked through her fingers. "Is he interested?"
Jamie thought about it for a moment, furrowing his brow. He licked his lips. "You know, I don't think he's interested in dating girls at the moment. He's really busy."
"Busy doing what?"
Connor jumped to his feet, nearly slipping on the floor, still wearing his in-line skates. He wanted to be able to make a quick exit from Andrew's motel room if need be. "Yeah, we're not doing this."
Andrew dropped his pen onto his notepad. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "You agreed to do this. You said I could ask you questions for my diaries. These are important things."
"Yeah, well, I didn't think the first words out of your mouth we're going to be 'so what's the worst thing about having your old memories back?'." Connor shook his head furiously. "You think it's okay to just ask that? Have you short-circuited a few neurons? That's just not cool."
"But it's important to know any adverse effects the memory restoration had on you. There could be like dire consequences." Andrew pouted. "Can you just tell me?"
Connor threw his hands up in the air in frustration. "Losing my virginity twice really sucked."
"Can't you at least try to be serious about this?" Andrew asked.
"I am being serious," Connor replied. "I'm not surprised you don't know, but losing your virginity once is embarrassing enough. Then finding out you actually lost your virginity to a half-demon possessed by a higher power while fire is raining from the sky and your father is watching..."
His eyes grew wide as Andrew picked up the pen again. "Wait, wait, wait... You're actually going to write that down?"
"You're not giving me a whole lot to work with," Andrew replied as he uncapped the pen.
Connor lunged forward to grab the pen away from Andrew. He got it in his fist, gripping it tightly. "Andrew, I don't know how things are supposed to be, but I don't want to do this. I'll hunt, I'll kill demons. I was doing that part anyway. I'll research demons to figure out better, more efficient ways to kill them. And--" He scowled. "If I have to, I'll do magic. And believe me when I say that's a major concession. I just really can't deal with this crap."
Andrew sat back, slumping his shoulder. He looked down at his blank notepad. "But... This is important."
Connor sat down. "Why? Why is it so important for you to know every detail about my old life? The demons I killed? The horrible things that happened to me? So a hundred years from now someone can go into a dusty library and read about it? I don't want people to know about it. Anyway, from the way you guys talk about the prophecies, there's enough written about me."
Andrew nodded. "Can you at least tell me about your fight last week? You didn't give me many details."
Connor nodded, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Okay that I can do. We were in the CoHo, arguing. Then I asked out Salome and she said yes. We went out and she told me she was a demon."
Andrew's head jerked up. "Wait, you didn't tell me that part before. You went out on a date with a demon?"
Surprised by this reaction, Connor frowned. "Well, it wasn't a real date. She told me she was a demon, I hit her, she hit me. Then we talked and--"
"Please tell me you killed her." Andrew's eyes were wide.
"She's not a bad demon. She helped me with the vampire gang." Connor shook his head. "Whatever happened to 'not all demons are bad'?"
"That's before you were dating one!" Andrew exclaimed. He cradled his head, rocking back and forth. "Angel said 'Make sure Connor doesn't date any demons'. It was his first rule!"
"I'm not dating a demon," Connor replied. "I mean, Salome is hot for a demon, but we're not... We just killed some vampires together. Wait, Angel forbid me from dating demons? A vampire who dates a werewolf is forbidding me to date demons?"
"I don't care if he's all hypocritic," Andrew said, looking up. "I care about the very graphic threats made to my personal person. I like my skin attached to my body, so no dating demons."
"I'm not dating a demon," Connor repeated. He smiled wickedly. "But I might now that I know it's forbidden."
"Don't say that," Andrew whined. "Please don't say that."
Connor got up, laughing. "Relax, Andrew. I am not going to date demons just so you can get killed by my d-- Angel. I'm not really looking for relationship with demons that go deeper than me killing them. If we're done, I'm going to take off."
"Wait!" Andrew jumped up. "We've got training!"
"Training?" Connor furrowed his brow. "You want me to train?"
"Of course." Andrew picked up the Slayer's Handbook. "I need to 'train you in different disciplines of martial arts and discover where your weaknesses lay'."
Connor shook his head. "I've got a paper to write. It's due on Monday."
"You've got all weekend!" Andrew exclaimed. "It'll be fine!"
Narrowing his gaze, Connor glared at Andrew. "You're not going to make me patrol all weekend?"
"Well, I..."
Connor nodded, going to the door. "Thought so. Let me have some semblance of a life, at least until dark. If something important comes up, call me. Don't worry, Andrew. Things don't start going bump in the night until it is night."
"Dude, close the window. The wind is knocking my papers all over the place," John yelled, holding a pile of papers down.
His roommate Kenny stood by the window, which was wide open. He held a cigarette between his lips. "Let me just finish, man. I don't feel like going all the way outside."
John put headphones on, scowling. "Idiot."
Kenny took another drag, hanging his head out the window. "Hey! Pam! Looking hot to-"
He went ridged, the cigarette dropping from his fingers. His mouth was open wide, lips turning black. His eyes glazed over.
John tore of his headphones. He got up. "Dude, close the window already!" He whirled around and screamed.
Kenny was prostrate on the ground, dead.