Anne's eyes opened, and a frown immediately came to her face. She'd heard a voice, but there was no one else in the room but Connor, and he was sleeping behind her, his arm wrapped protectively around her middle. It was dark, the sun already having gone down, but her eyes had adjusted quickly and she could see they were the only ones there.
"Anne, it's me—Cordy. I'm speaking in your mind."
Anne shrugged. Well, that explained it—more or less.
"In about five minutes we're going to do a spell that makes sure Connor stays asleep for a while. Then Angel and Spike are going to bring him downstairs. Can you have him ready then?"
Anne's back went straight. She wasn't sure she liked that. "Why?" she asked aloud.
"Because we think we have the memory spell down, but there's no way he'd just sit there and let us do it."
Anne took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She liked it even less now. Connor—this version or the normal one—wouldn't like that, she knew. But what choice did they have? He couldn't stay like this. There was the chance that his memories would come back on their own, but how long would that take? And what if they never did? He could probably re-learn some things, but to the point that he was ever really able to function on his own in society again? As things were, he wouldn't even leave the bedroom.
Anne knew what she had to do. She just hoped that when she looked back on it, she would see that it had been the right decision to make and not a huge mistake.
"Yeah, I can do that," she whispered.
"Good. Five minutes."
Cordy's presence was gone, and Anne got up with a sigh. Connor's eyes snapped open when she did, and she gave him a small smile, trying to look innocent though something about the whole thing made her feel a little like Judas. She knew they were only trying to help him, but doing a spell on Connor while he was asleep that messed with his mind to any degree…it felt like such a betrayal.
"Get dressed," she said to him, handing him his clothes.
Connor took them from her skeptically, then pointed towards the door and shook his head. Anne shook hers in response. "No, we're going to stay in here," she said, biting back a wince at her own lie. Granted, the words meant about as much to him as if she'd told him they were going to grow wings and flit around the room, but she could feel the lack of truth in them, and that was enough. "Please?"
She stood and started to dress herself and Connor reluctantly slipped on his own clothes, prompting a smile from Anne. She sat down on the bed when they were both dressed and motioned for him to sit with her. She put her arm around him and guided his head down to her shoulder. "I love you, Connor. I love you so much. I only want what's best for you, baby."
Connor slumped against her, unconscious, and Anne bit back a choked sob. She cradled him against her and held him close until there was a light tap at the door. "Come in," she said.
Angel walked in with Spike following close behind. "Hey, Daddy," Anne said softly.
"Hey, princess," Spike replied, his head cocking slightly to the side as he regarded his daughter. She looked more tired and worn than he remembered her ever looking before.
"How is he?" Angel asked, gesturing to Connor.
"Other than the fact he's been mystically knocked unconscious so people can do stuff to his mind he's not going to like? He's also got bruises on his arms where you manhandled him," Anne snapped in response.
Angel stiffened. "Don't you…"
Spike stepped in between the two of them. "Look, if we're going to do this, then let's get it done," he said. "Annie, you can yell at Peaches all you want later."
Angel shot Spike a dirty look, but said nothing, turning his attention back to his son instead. "Help me get him up."
Anne followed behind Angel and Spike as they brought Connor downstairs to where they had what they needed for the spell set up. A lump formed in her throat as she watched, the ritual simple, but still something that could have long-lasting repercussions. What if it didn't work and Connor went completely insane like Cordelia had talked about earlier?
Anne jumped when she felt Cordelia's hand on her shoulder. "It's done now, Anne. They're going to bring him back upstairs. He'll probably sleep for a while if you want to stay down here. I can look after him."
Only a few hours ago, Anne had been desperate for what Cordelia was offering. But now… She watched her father and Angel begin carrying Connor back up the stairs. "No," she said, shaking her head. "I…I need to be there. In case he wakes up sooner. He'll be scared and confused if I'm not there."
"Okay," Cordelia said with a nod. "Just let us know you need anything."
"I will."
Her shoulders slumped, Anne went back to the bedroom to wait until Connor awoke.
*** *** ***
It was several hours before Connor's eyes opened again, but Anne was glad that she had stayed with him. She wasn't even sure if she would've been able to stay away, most likely spending the whole time wondering if he was all right, or if he needed her.
Connor sat up quickly, his gaze darting around the room, and Anne put her hand on his shoulder to calm him. He looked at her, his brow wrinkling as if he was trying to remember something, but then he pulled back and curled up away from her.
Anne bit her lip, her heart sinking. Had they done the wrong thing? "Connor? Sweetheart?" She reached out and placed her hand against his back, feeling how he was trembling.
"It works backwards, bringing memories forward until it switches the old with the new and makes it feel more like our yesterday was his, too. Right now, he's remembering things he went through in Vortairesh."
Anne turned sharply, her eyes narrowing as they trained on Cordelia, who was standing in the doorway of the room. "You didn't tell me that part. You didn't tell me he was going to have to go through this."
"It's only temporary," Cordelia replied. "And it was either that or just switch all the memories in a snap, and that would do more long term damage, believe me. This is what we decided was best."
"By 'we' you mean you and Angel, I'm assuming."
Cordelia nodded. "Yes. And we didn't decide on this lightly, Anne—believe me. But it's what's best for Connor."
Connor cried out, drawing Anne's attention back to him. She gathered him into her arms and rocked him softly back and forth as she murmured against him. "It's okay, baby. You're safe now. You're safe…"
Anne heard the click of the door as Cordelia left them alone again, but she didn't turn back around, instead putting her focus on Connor and wanting to help him get through this. She hoped all of this would be worth it, that when it was all said and done that he'd be okay, and that they could go on from there.
"I love you so much," Anne said, her voice choked with tears. "I won't let you hurt like this again. I won't." Connor shuddered against her, silent now as his eyes stared forward, his mind reminding him of horrors Anne was sure she couldn't possibly even begin to imagine. She wished more than anything that she could take it all away, that she could help him find the peace that had eluded him his entire life.
But she couldn't. So she held him.
*** *** ***
Connor wasn't sure exactly what was happening, only that things were slowly becoming clearer. He could feel Anne's arms around him, recognized her scent, the softness of her flesh. Sometimes she'd speak to him, in gentle whispers, and at some point her words had started making sense to him, offering him more than the comfort of the sound alone.
He remembered being lost again, trapped in a world that, had he grown up anywhere other than where he did, would've been the worst he'd ever seen. But he'd fought, struggled to stay alive every day and night, and now he remembered why—for her, to find her. Even when he'd lost all else, the memory of her face, those big, soulful blue eyes, had haunted him, calling to him to find a way back to the one who kept his heart for him. She had become his goddess, who he spoke to when he was without strength, without the will to go on.
He had felt her there with him, a part of her so deep in his soul that it had stayed with him through space and time. He could remember that now, even as he remembered the horror, and he clung to her, the one person who had never hurt him, the one person he knew meant it when she said she loved him.
She had to. He'd held on to that belief for so long, and survived in yet another hell dimension just for the idea of it.
It all hurt so much. He was remembering things he'd tried to forget, and he knew nothing good was coming, that everything his mind had to offer him was painful, better left buried. He tried to shut it out, to stop the onslaught, but he couldn't, the memories pushing forward, making him live it all again in a rush.
Connor turned, burying his face against Anne, and cried.
*** *** ***
Anne didn't think they'd done the right thing. Connor had eventually fallen asleep, mentally exhausted himself until she knew he hadn't been able to stay awake any longer. But still, he shook, cries sounding from him even in sleep as he battled the memories of his demons.
She'd had no idea it was going to be like this. Cordelia had made it sound like it would be better for Connor this way, but how could the suffering he was doing now be the good way to go about it? She found her mind going back again to the lobby, back to Angel's snapped "He'll deal with it." Is that what they both thought about Connor? That it was okay to make him suffer now, because he'd just "deal with it?" Did they think he'd dealt with everything he'd gone through in the past?
Because he hadn't. Not really. Anne had picked up on that almost immediately, the pain in his eyes not truly hidden no matter how hard he wanted it to be. Connor had suffered so much and the last thing he'd done was "dealt with it." He'd tried to, sure, but the holes in him were too much to allow him anything but struggle.
No one had ever truly cared about his pain. Maybe a little here and there, but in the long run he was expected to suck it up, to be strong and just try to move past it all. But he couldn't. He was broken, and no one had ever made a true, solid effort to fix him.
Anne wanted to. Her need to put the pieces back together for him was stronger than anything else she'd ever known. But could she? Could she show Connor a life that wasn't constantly marred by pain and betrayal?
In the beginning, when they'd first met, she would've said yes without a second thought. She'd believed so blindly then that they could get through anything, just by being with each other. That love was really, truly all you needed. Connor had scoffed at the notion, telling her to "grow up."
Well, she had. She'd suffered the burden of losing him, of having him ripped away from her and sent to a place where she knew he was hurting every moment. She'd cared for him as he'd been a shell of the man she'd known, watched as he struggled even to understand the simplest of things, so much of his humanity stripped from him. And now she held him as he shook in her arms, reliving the horror of his private hell.
How could she possibly still view the world the same as she had only a week before? Her heart had broken in ways that she hadn't even known it could.
All she could do now was hope that somehow, it would all get better.
*** *** ***