Who I Am
I do not own any of the characters or universes of Buffy, Angel, or Dark Angel nor do I make any profit from them.
Connor sat in a battered chair rescued from one of the worse off houses in Terminal City, and watched Joshua paint with an oddly peaceful expression on his face. Connor had never felt that he fit somewhere as well as he did here in this broken city, with these outcast people and this strangely childlike man whose wide canine eyes hid wisdom and depth beneath innocent twinkles.
They weren’t demonic, as some acquaintances had accused, spouting words like Initiative and Adam and he should know better. Eventually they had been proven wrong and grudgingly left him alone although he could see in their eyes that they wondered why he wasn’t content with their fight, why he had to go find a new one. After all the Pulse hadn’t affected the demons and they could always use more strangely long lived warriors.
They didn’t understand that it was refreshing to be among people who were strong and fast and had soldier’s reflexes but who didn’t have a mystical destiny, whose names had never been mentioned in a prophecy and never would be. People to whom he wasn’t a reminder of past failures and dead friends.
Here he wasn’t Steven Holtz or Connor Reilly or Angel’s son; he was just one of the troops. Enhanced abilities and a hellish past were just part of the package in this community, even if his was a little more literal when it came to the hell part. But in the end did it matter who the torture and training had come from? Demons or just humans with empty souls? He didn’t think so and neither did the few transgenics in the know about his true origins.
Joshua picked up one last can of paint, a red so dark it looked black until it shimmered the low light, and splashed it liberally across the canvas before giving a satisfied grunt and turning to smile toothily at Connor. He pointed to the painting and then to Connor, his smiled widening. “Is Connor.”
The not quite young man who was never really a child studied the art made by a not quite man who was never really a child either, and after taking in the dark shadows and bold colors that made a strange kind of chaotic sense, nodded with a smile of his own. “It’s Connor.”A/N:
This was going to a be a one shot, maybe in a series of random FFA pairings but I think my muse likes this universe so there will be more. This is the first Buffy fanfic I've ever shared and I know its short so please be gentle but honest.