log; complete
When; July 14th [Early Evening].
Rating; PG
Characters; Illyria [ancient_smurf] & Wesley Wyndam-Pryce [discessum].
Summary; With the Angelus event over with, Wesley finally addresses the duality of Illyria's psyche that's been prominent since her reappearance in the City, and the dangers of it.
Log;
WESLEY; He'd had this nightmare before, but this one was lasting longer than most. There had been pancakes and waffles - a combination Wesley still didn't understand, but something so very Fred. Unfortunately the very sight of it made his stomach churn, and there was no way he could eat anything. Let her lecture him on his health. There were several moments where he wanted to remind her of his death, so that she could stop such foul play, but he found himself too weak to bear it each time.
With Angelus taken care of, Wesley could now focus on his own personal problems. Illyria's personal problems. This manifestation of Fred was a ploy at best, but it could be convincing at times. Since it was clear that it was subconscious, it left him at a loss of what to do. She seemed to shift into Fred randomly, only turning back when in danger. What was he to do? Point a gun at her and fire? See what happened?
It was honestly something he'd considered late in the night, though it was the alcohol's burn driving that line of thought. At least this time he was aware enough to call in on Monday and Tuesday. Jamie would understand. He'd have to.
The nightmare continued into the evening, and he was getting nowhere. Putting a few books on archaic demon physiology in front of her left her distracted, though it was clear that 'Fred' didn't know what to make of any of it. He had books of his own to look through, though studying the human psyche was less than helpful in regards to Illyria. Even with his varied knowledge on demonology, he was coming up short, and he knew why. He was looking for reason in a world gone mad. So he stopped trying for the day, simply sitting on the couch and staring at the black television screen. It could have been hours, or mere minutes, but finally the rambling chatter going on in the background stopped, and he shut his eyes.
If he concentrated hard enough, perhaps the nightmare would shift into something of a pleasant dream.
ILLYRIA; She understood the words on the pages only sporadically, recognizing a phrase or a description from time to time without making anything of it. It wasn't so much going through the books that she found comforting - for some reason, she wasn't sure what she was looking for - but more the sense of searching, of trying to figure stuff out.
The feeling of doing research in Wesley's company made her feel relaxed. Another piece of an unknown puzzle falling into place. The way it should be.
He had been uncharacteristically prone to drinking alcohol the past night; she'd noticed but kept her peace. He had changed - probably gone through something she didn't know about in this unfamiliar dimension. She had wanted to help him because he was so cold, as if something had made him freeze up from the inside. It didn't bother her, as much as it worried her.
Sitting on that couch with his eyes closed, she felt as if he was... shutting her out. But that couldn't be right! They hadn't seen each other for so long and now he didn't even want to look at her? She had no idea what she'd done - as far as she knew, nothing.
There was only one way to find out; he couldn't just do this to her, falling into himself and leaving her behind. Again.
Leaving the book on the table, she seated herself next to him, watching the black screen without really seeing it.
"You still haven't told me what I've done wrong. I can't fix it if you keep doing this."
WESLEY; He felt the cushion next to him shift, so his eyes were open by the time she managed to speak. The voice of Fred. It felt like a thousand needles in his heart. Good to know he still had one, even if it couldn't beat.
"You don't even know what you're doing wrong." It wasn't even a question. He knew it, and it only made this more difficult. Danger would trigger the transition, but he wasn't going to strike the image of Fred. Even if he could, he doubted it would work unless it was life threatening. That was a line he could never cross. It wasn't even humanity that kept him from going so far. That he had said farewell to when he had killed a man without remorse.
It was his own mortal weakness. To do what needs to be done. Angel had said he was that kind of person. But Fred always made things different.
Wesley's eyes slipped shut again, and he leaned back. Everything was so stiff, so forced. So wrong.
"You can't fix it, period," was his final muttering of a response. Even though he tried, there was no bitterness in his voice. Just a sad sense of desolation. "Perhaps I could have blamed you once, but I no longer have the energy for that. Whatever solution I find will be temporary, won't it? There's no easy answer. There's no happy ending."
ILLYRIA; He wasn't giving her much to go by. But the way he spoke, his voice, his tone... it felt as if the world was falling apart, not coming together as it was supposed to. She'd never wanted to do this to him - whatever 'this' was.
"I just want things to be the way they used to be," she said, unable to suppress a weak smile, a peace offering. "I mean, I'm here, you're here... why's the happy end so difficult to see?"
His behavior didn't make sense to her and while she knew she wasn't always spot on regarding other people, it bothered her when she missed the mark with him, of all people.
She leaned against him slightly, stealing a little bit of proximity. She didn't feel like a thief, really. He wasn't telling her that she couldn't have it. He just didn't offer. She could work with that. She had to, for now.
WESLEY; He was quick to stand when she leaned close, fists clenched while he stared at her reflection in the TV screen. Not when it was such an obvious lie, could he tolerate her touch. It made him sicker than anything could, because it was impossible for it to ever be a dream. He wasn't even lucky enough to call it a nightmare now, because he was simply too wide awake.
"Because that happy ending is an illusion. One you're letting yourself see for unknown reasons. There is nothing happy about us, and there never will be. There's only emptiness and battle, and we will never be completely full. Try as you might, you will never piece yourself together, Illyria."
His hands relaxed and he finally turned to look at her directly. Despite his words, there was still no malice when he spoke. "I've said it before, have I not? This is nothing more than an echo. You are not Fred. You will never be Fred, and no one who really knew her could ever accept you as such, because you killed her. You stole her body so that you could walk this pitiful half-life with no reason and no purpose. You aren't human. You're a monster-a demon-and you ought to be six feet under. Like Fred. Like me."
ILLYRIA; She watched him stand, drawing back very abruptly in response. So that was wrong as well - it hadn't been wrong before. He wouldn't have done this to her before coming here. There was something tugging at the edge of her conscience, something begging to be acknowledged and she would oblige, really, she would. Except this was Wesley and she had to pay attention because he was... speaking... gibberish. Wasn't he?
"That's not true. I... I haven't..." And she let her sentence trail off. Hadn't what? Killed herself? She would never commit suicide. Her life was worth more than that. Her existence was... was...
Caught some place in between. She looked at him through blue-tinged eyes, still in this body, still in his world. Because that's where she was supposed to be, damn it! She had to hold on to it, because if she didn't, she wouldn't even have this much.
"Don't do this to me," she whispered, looking away, looking everywhere but at him. She wasn't sure what she meant, exactly, only that she wanted him to stop it, to cease.
WESLEY; It pained Wesley more than words could express to have her look at him like that. But despite how powerful the memories were, how very clearly they had imprinted upon Illyria, they meant nothing when the soul was gone. So he set his jaw and did what he had to do.
"You've done it to yourself. You've lost yourself in this lie, Illyria, and you're dishonoring her memory in the process, and I won't stand by and continue to witness it." There was a creak in the floorboard as he stepped back, shooting a look towards the coat draped over the back of his computer chair. "I'll leave if I have to. If being around you is what triggers this, then I'll stay away from you. It's better for both our sakes."
ILLYRIA; For a second, just a second, she wanted to get up, throw her arms around him and kiss him. Like a small snapshot in her mind, the last solution, a last grip on what she wanted to be reality.
Desperation. It struck her that it was not what Fred had been and just like that, it was gone.
In its place was raw, bleeding anger and as she rose, her shell fell away, blue reflected in the empty television screen.
He was going away. He was leaving her.
"You will not." In three long steps, she was at his side, looking him straight in the eyes. It was a threat, it was a plea, it was absolutely everything - to make him stay. "I found you. You were gone for days and days."
She remembered losing him, even though it was so long ago, it should not even register in her memory anymore. It did. This foolish, fragile human, leaving such a hole in her existence. She would not have it.
"I cannot control her - she bursts forward, weakening me every time. It is not what I want but it is what I have. And you will bear it." Her eyes narrowed. "With me."
WESLEY; Though it was what he had been vying for, there was a strange sense of loss when the vision before him shifted. It was quickly replaced with relief. As miserable as it was to cling to Illyria, it was a much better form of torture than the doll that Illyria now randomly turned into. At the very least, the proximity didn't bother him as much as it once did. He was angry, though not at her.
"I shouldn't have to. Neither should you." Wary, he gazed at her. The blue was chilling, but there was turmoil in her eyes. More than he would have thought possible. "You've nothing to gain by lying to me, unless you've suddenly acquired a sick sense of pleasure out of watching me squirm. You ought to be able to control it. It isn't Fred. The memories shouldn't be controlling you to this extent."
ILLYRIA; She stepped back, looking away from him. She felt no more calm than she had a few seconds ago, prepared to grab him and make him stay if he refused her. He could leave her any time he pleased if she did not pay attention. It was maddening, fearing his departure while despising his existence at the same time. There was no order to it.
"She should be nothing more than a few, miserable fragments in my system. But she wants to exist. She fights me for it." Gazing into nothing, watching the air shift before her as molecules fought for space, she shook her head once. It did nothing. "It must be her. She should be dead but the dead do not hold such influence."
Lifting one hand, she looked at it, watching her veins pump needless blood through her system, running on automatics. Useless. "Human sadness is the worst thing for her."
WESLEY; Time away had not been better for her in the least. Before she had left, Illyria had seemed to come to a decision about the memories, but now she spoke as if there was absolutely no conscious effort on her part when shifting. She was not analyzing Fred, and she was not trying to trick him. Memories passed...taking on a life of their own. It seemed too unreal, even for the bizarre lives they once walked.
Knees feeling rather weak, Wesley quickly sat back on the couch's arm rest, doing his best to piece the puzzle together without letting his emotions get in the way. Her statement lingered with him. Human sadness.
"It's not possible. This must simply be a side-effect of transitioning dimensions while in a state of conflux. You have let the turmoil within manifest, and Fred is the form it's taken. How long has this been going on? You said that it's been days and days... Is that all?"
ILLYRIA; He spoke as if she had done it on purpose, putting herself in this situation when all she wanted was to find her place. Her annoyance made her movements more rigid, as she stared at him, head tilted slightly. Good. He was sitting down. Not leaving, for now.
"Days and days... They fall together. Time has become erratic around me and I do not bother trying to keep them all separated. Spike is uncomfortable with it. He is too weak to understand." She walked to the window, craving the illusion of space. "I remember that I have been here before. But it is a long time ago."
And she came back to the same thing, the same problem as always. "You died before everything was chaos. And then, suddenly, you returned." She looked back at him, taking him in. Her gaze did not soften, but inside, she felt as if order was being restored albeit very slowly. Like peace, descending quietly over an empty battlefield.
WESLEY; The way she spoke made him wonder just what else had become erratic within her. Her powers? She seemed to be back at full strength when taking Angelus down. Would the events Angel spoke of happen once more here? Even if he didn't know the detail that led up to it, he knew that one of the triggers had been Fred's memories.
It was a very fine line they all were treading.
"...You don't mean here, do you." There was a flicker in his eyes, the gravity of the situation making things even murkier. "Right. The future...you seem to have caught up with it. You might understand, then, why I'm not so eager to follow. Angel said that I look the way I once did. That I'm not corporeal. And I'm the Senior Partners' only liaison. A puppet... Who knows why. If you hadn't seen me in awhile, the shock must have made you transform just before you were brought back here. But..."
Arms folded, Wesley stiffened, recalling what she spoke of. Spike. If only the Spike here in the City wasn't of the past. Wesley would have liked to ask him in detail about what he'd witnessed of Illyria. "Spike was close to Fred. It's only natural that he's uncomfortable to it. You two...have been staying together? How does he react when you turn?"
ILLYRIA; She thought of Wesley as a puppet, lower than a servant, lower than most humans. It bothered her to a certain extent - he was more than this, though not by far. She felt as if someone had stolen something from her and it did not suit her.
"I have taken him as my pet. He is marginally entertaining." She felt that Wesley was still very uncomfortable; reading minds would have been a useful skill, even if it was the coward's way to solve a conflict. She could feel his emotions and they confused her which in turn, made her feel sick to her core. He took up so much space, for such a small creature. "When I get weak, he locks me away. He cannot deal with it because he is afraid of losing what is left of her. "
She could understand his reaction; he was not as strong as his arrogance implied and she did not expect a mere vampire to be of any actual assistance.
WESLEY; The casual way she continued to refer to Spike as a pet made him snort softly. Still, the idea was no longer as amusing as it had been at Wolfram & Hart. They were constantly together now, and Wesley was no longer around to mediate. Angel had said that the two of them had spent a good long while around one another. Which meant that Spike and Illyria probably spent the same amount of time in marginally closer quarters. How much time had passed?
"That doesn't sound like an altogether horrible idea. I suppose that also means you don't always shift when in danger." Wesley's lips pressed firmly together, and there was another uncomfortable shift as he started to get back up. "I don't think I can really lock you up. No doubt the City officials would take issue with it." Not to mention...he couldn't listen to Fred's cries every time - false or not.
"You claim I ought to bear it with you, but that isn't the only answer. There are obviously triggers. It happened when you saw me, and when you thought Angelus was feeling guilt. All you need to do is stay away from us. Stay away from those who are important to Fred. It's a large enough City. It might be the best way to keep you safe."
ILLYRIA; She whirled to face him, without moving away from the window. It was not anger this time, not exactly. He would not do this, simply to get rid of her. She was worth more than this and he knew, he had to know...
But this. This solution, she could not bear. "I may have a weakness, but I am still stronger than all of you. Do not presume to protect me. It offends me." She was speaking more quickly than she normally would, aware that she felt agitated. More than angry. "Would you have me wandering around, without guidance and without a semblance of order? I know no one in this City. It would do me no favors."
She curled her hands into fists, her body almost shaking, straining to break loose, to do something and set herself right. "There would be nothing for me."
WESLEY; Inadvertently or not, she was managing to make him feel guilt. The suddenness of it almost made him sit back down, but he refrained, arms dropping to his sides. She was being emotional, but she had a point. Though he knew the triggers, sending her away was no guarantee. And in that fragile state, anyone or anything could take advantage of her.
But it was worse when he was around, wasn't it? Which was more unbearable? Tolerating the shadows of Fred's memories, or being completely without them? Either way, Illyria was at risk. But it didn't matter what he thought was a more sound solution. He could not make Illyria go if she didn't want to.
Stepping carefully, Wesley moved towards her until he was also beside the window. "There is nothing for you here. You know that. What knowledge I have is useless to you now. You walk a different path from before. One I'm no longer walking with you."
ILLYRIA; Nothing for her. By principle. She listened, allowing him to intrude upon her personal space, despite the fact that she did not know what to do with him. She understood his point - she had always listened to advisors, even if she did not like what they said. It did not cost her anything but composure to listen; and that loss was easily corrected.
However. Advisors were only that; providers of hypothetical solutions. She was the ruler. She was above them, even in her current condition. And she would let nothing deter her from her chosen path, even if the goal was unclear to her.
"Perhaps. But you are a part of my existence all the same." It was an admission of a kind; to say that yes, he did mean something to her, did take up space, though the nature of it was undecided as of yet. "I am walking blindly now. Your presence would not change this fact." She looked at him, drawing nearer to him, reducing the space between them to inches. "But it would make the path less chaotic."
WESLEY; That made him draw back, though it was more because of her words than how close she suddenly was. Once again, his eyes were clouded, and there was a furrow to his brow as he turned and stalked away. "Maybe for you. I actually let myself be fooled when you first arrived, and I know Fred better than anyone. You've no idea what this all means to me. If anything, it's become more chaotic on my end."
Aggravated, Wesley reached up to rub at the back of his neck, pacing. This was all one giant question mark, and he didn't like it. He wondered how he would react when he returned and saw her again. Would he handle it better? Surely the situation would be different. From the way Angel made it sound, he wouldn't have the time to sit around and sulk about it.
Not that he was sulking.
"At the very least, you know that you can't see Spike should he be released. He's still without a soul, and if he triggers a transformation, I've no doubt he won't think twice about hurting you. It isn't as if he always learns from his mistakes, and he's not... Whatever it is that you two had during your time together..." He really didn't like thinking about it. "You can't have that here. Obviously."
ILLYRIA; She frowned, watching him pace. His weaknesses did not interest her. They never had before. She had taken his wishes into account when he asked her to, but only when she needed him to help her. If respecting his wishes meant letting him leave her behind, she would not even consider it.
"Spike makes for acceptable companionship, as long as he remembers his place." She looked away, out of the window, her next words spoken with cold precision. "I do not even expect that much from you and yet, you object to my company."
She knew not to approach Spike here; she would not have to if Wesley did not keep telling her that he would not help her. It made her angry, impatient, that he could not simply accept this. It confused her too. The woman he had loved was closer to the surface than she had ever been before and still, he would have her leave.
WESLEY; His steps slowed, and finally stopped. Allowing himself to become this outwardly upset wouldn't get him anywhere. There was a point he was reaching where even he could recognize his lack of stability, a point where he didn't know if he'd rather spend the rest of his days seeking the answers in his books, or simply give up while sitting and brooding.
"I'm not...objecting to your company. Your company is not the issue at hand." There was a deep breath taken to ground himself. It helped, sometimes, to mimic the actions he once was required to do in order to survive. Reminded him of what he was: a man. A very lost man, and despite the constant company, very alone.
"...You weren't gone from here for as long as you seem to think. A few weeks at best." There was more of a softness to his tone now, as he watched her out of the corner of his eye. "Given the track records of people from our world, I had a feeling you would show up again. Yet I wasn't quite sure what to do with myself while you were gone. I imagine I have more of a purpose assisting Angel in the hell dimension that once was Los Angeles, but here it's much slower, despite the curses. I did more research to help the time pass, but I've yet to find anything helpful. Yours is such a unique case, after all."
ILLYRIA; She nodded, eyes narrowing a fraction again. "Unique. You have known no one like me before. And you will not." She thought of him, staying here with that woman companion - Cordelia - and with Angel and Spike. Staying here, out of her reach, filling his death with useless, empty content. Human nature. The hollowness of their existence.
"But you would not prefer my company if you could choose." He would never choose her instead of them. He would never choose her instead of Fred. The thought made her look away, look out of the window, look at something that could remind her that yes, she still existed. She was and would always be Illyria; but she did not fully understand what that actually meant anymore.
He did nothing to drag her back to that time, to make her remember what she was supposed to be. But it did not matter to her because he did something else instead, something better. With him, she felt like she was moving.
Rating; PG
Characters; Illyria [ancient_smurf] & Wesley Wyndam-Pryce [discessum].
Summary; With the Angelus event over with, Wesley finally addresses the duality of Illyria's psyche that's been prominent since her reappearance in the City, and the dangers of it.
Log;
WESLEY; He'd had this nightmare before, but this one was lasting longer than most. There had been pancakes and waffles - a combination Wesley still didn't understand, but something so very Fred. Unfortunately the very sight of it made his stomach churn, and there was no way he could eat anything. Let her lecture him on his health. There were several moments where he wanted to remind her of his death, so that she could stop such foul play, but he found himself too weak to bear it each time.
With Angelus taken care of, Wesley could now focus on his own personal problems. Illyria's personal problems. This manifestation of Fred was a ploy at best, but it could be convincing at times. Since it was clear that it was subconscious, it left him at a loss of what to do. She seemed to shift into Fred randomly, only turning back when in danger. What was he to do? Point a gun at her and fire? See what happened?
It was honestly something he'd considered late in the night, though it was the alcohol's burn driving that line of thought. At least this time he was aware enough to call in on Monday and Tuesday. Jamie would understand. He'd have to.
The nightmare continued into the evening, and he was getting nowhere. Putting a few books on archaic demon physiology in front of her left her distracted, though it was clear that 'Fred' didn't know what to make of any of it. He had books of his own to look through, though studying the human psyche was less than helpful in regards to Illyria. Even with his varied knowledge on demonology, he was coming up short, and he knew why. He was looking for reason in a world gone mad. So he stopped trying for the day, simply sitting on the couch and staring at the black television screen. It could have been hours, or mere minutes, but finally the rambling chatter going on in the background stopped, and he shut his eyes.
If he concentrated hard enough, perhaps the nightmare would shift into something of a pleasant dream.
ILLYRIA; She understood the words on the pages only sporadically, recognizing a phrase or a description from time to time without making anything of it. It wasn't so much going through the books that she found comforting - for some reason, she wasn't sure what she was looking for - but more the sense of searching, of trying to figure stuff out.
The feeling of doing research in Wesley's company made her feel relaxed. Another piece of an unknown puzzle falling into place. The way it should be.
He had been uncharacteristically prone to drinking alcohol the past night; she'd noticed but kept her peace. He had changed - probably gone through something she didn't know about in this unfamiliar dimension. She had wanted to help him because he was so cold, as if something had made him freeze up from the inside. It didn't bother her, as much as it worried her.
Sitting on that couch with his eyes closed, she felt as if he was... shutting her out. But that couldn't be right! They hadn't seen each other for so long and now he didn't even want to look at her? She had no idea what she'd done - as far as she knew, nothing.
There was only one way to find out; he couldn't just do this to her, falling into himself and leaving her behind. Again.
Leaving the book on the table, she seated herself next to him, watching the black screen without really seeing it.
"You still haven't told me what I've done wrong. I can't fix it if you keep doing this."
WESLEY; He felt the cushion next to him shift, so his eyes were open by the time she managed to speak. The voice of Fred. It felt like a thousand needles in his heart. Good to know he still had one, even if it couldn't beat.
"You don't even know what you're doing wrong." It wasn't even a question. He knew it, and it only made this more difficult. Danger would trigger the transition, but he wasn't going to strike the image of Fred. Even if he could, he doubted it would work unless it was life threatening. That was a line he could never cross. It wasn't even humanity that kept him from going so far. That he had said farewell to when he had killed a man without remorse.
It was his own mortal weakness. To do what needs to be done. Angel had said he was that kind of person. But Fred always made things different.
Wesley's eyes slipped shut again, and he leaned back. Everything was so stiff, so forced. So wrong.
"You can't fix it, period," was his final muttering of a response. Even though he tried, there was no bitterness in his voice. Just a sad sense of desolation. "Perhaps I could have blamed you once, but I no longer have the energy for that. Whatever solution I find will be temporary, won't it? There's no easy answer. There's no happy ending."
ILLYRIA; He wasn't giving her much to go by. But the way he spoke, his voice, his tone... it felt as if the world was falling apart, not coming together as it was supposed to. She'd never wanted to do this to him - whatever 'this' was.
"I just want things to be the way they used to be," she said, unable to suppress a weak smile, a peace offering. "I mean, I'm here, you're here... why's the happy end so difficult to see?"
His behavior didn't make sense to her and while she knew she wasn't always spot on regarding other people, it bothered her when she missed the mark with him, of all people.
She leaned against him slightly, stealing a little bit of proximity. She didn't feel like a thief, really. He wasn't telling her that she couldn't have it. He just didn't offer. She could work with that. She had to, for now.
WESLEY; He was quick to stand when she leaned close, fists clenched while he stared at her reflection in the TV screen. Not when it was such an obvious lie, could he tolerate her touch. It made him sicker than anything could, because it was impossible for it to ever be a dream. He wasn't even lucky enough to call it a nightmare now, because he was simply too wide awake.
"Because that happy ending is an illusion. One you're letting yourself see for unknown reasons. There is nothing happy about us, and there never will be. There's only emptiness and battle, and we will never be completely full. Try as you might, you will never piece yourself together, Illyria."
His hands relaxed and he finally turned to look at her directly. Despite his words, there was still no malice when he spoke. "I've said it before, have I not? This is nothing more than an echo. You are not Fred. You will never be Fred, and no one who really knew her could ever accept you as such, because you killed her. You stole her body so that you could walk this pitiful half-life with no reason and no purpose. You aren't human. You're a monster-a demon-and you ought to be six feet under. Like Fred. Like me."
ILLYRIA; She watched him stand, drawing back very abruptly in response. So that was wrong as well - it hadn't been wrong before. He wouldn't have done this to her before coming here. There was something tugging at the edge of her conscience, something begging to be acknowledged and she would oblige, really, she would. Except this was Wesley and she had to pay attention because he was... speaking... gibberish. Wasn't he?
"That's not true. I... I haven't..." And she let her sentence trail off. Hadn't what? Killed herself? She would never commit suicide. Her life was worth more than that. Her existence was... was...
Caught some place in between. She looked at him through blue-tinged eyes, still in this body, still in his world. Because that's where she was supposed to be, damn it! She had to hold on to it, because if she didn't, she wouldn't even have this much.
"Don't do this to me," she whispered, looking away, looking everywhere but at him. She wasn't sure what she meant, exactly, only that she wanted him to stop it, to cease.
WESLEY; It pained Wesley more than words could express to have her look at him like that. But despite how powerful the memories were, how very clearly they had imprinted upon Illyria, they meant nothing when the soul was gone. So he set his jaw and did what he had to do.
"You've done it to yourself. You've lost yourself in this lie, Illyria, and you're dishonoring her memory in the process, and I won't stand by and continue to witness it." There was a creak in the floorboard as he stepped back, shooting a look towards the coat draped over the back of his computer chair. "I'll leave if I have to. If being around you is what triggers this, then I'll stay away from you. It's better for both our sakes."
ILLYRIA; For a second, just a second, she wanted to get up, throw her arms around him and kiss him. Like a small snapshot in her mind, the last solution, a last grip on what she wanted to be reality.
Desperation. It struck her that it was not what Fred had been and just like that, it was gone.
In its place was raw, bleeding anger and as she rose, her shell fell away, blue reflected in the empty television screen.
He was going away. He was leaving her.
"You will not." In three long steps, she was at his side, looking him straight in the eyes. It was a threat, it was a plea, it was absolutely everything - to make him stay. "I found you. You were gone for days and days."
She remembered losing him, even though it was so long ago, it should not even register in her memory anymore. It did. This foolish, fragile human, leaving such a hole in her existence. She would not have it.
"I cannot control her - she bursts forward, weakening me every time. It is not what I want but it is what I have. And you will bear it." Her eyes narrowed. "With me."
WESLEY; Though it was what he had been vying for, there was a strange sense of loss when the vision before him shifted. It was quickly replaced with relief. As miserable as it was to cling to Illyria, it was a much better form of torture than the doll that Illyria now randomly turned into. At the very least, the proximity didn't bother him as much as it once did. He was angry, though not at her.
"I shouldn't have to. Neither should you." Wary, he gazed at her. The blue was chilling, but there was turmoil in her eyes. More than he would have thought possible. "You've nothing to gain by lying to me, unless you've suddenly acquired a sick sense of pleasure out of watching me squirm. You ought to be able to control it. It isn't Fred. The memories shouldn't be controlling you to this extent."
ILLYRIA; She stepped back, looking away from him. She felt no more calm than she had a few seconds ago, prepared to grab him and make him stay if he refused her. He could leave her any time he pleased if she did not pay attention. It was maddening, fearing his departure while despising his existence at the same time. There was no order to it.
"She should be nothing more than a few, miserable fragments in my system. But she wants to exist. She fights me for it." Gazing into nothing, watching the air shift before her as molecules fought for space, she shook her head once. It did nothing. "It must be her. She should be dead but the dead do not hold such influence."
Lifting one hand, she looked at it, watching her veins pump needless blood through her system, running on automatics. Useless. "Human sadness is the worst thing for her."
WESLEY; Time away had not been better for her in the least. Before she had left, Illyria had seemed to come to a decision about the memories, but now she spoke as if there was absolutely no conscious effort on her part when shifting. She was not analyzing Fred, and she was not trying to trick him. Memories passed...taking on a life of their own. It seemed too unreal, even for the bizarre lives they once walked.
Knees feeling rather weak, Wesley quickly sat back on the couch's arm rest, doing his best to piece the puzzle together without letting his emotions get in the way. Her statement lingered with him. Human sadness.
"It's not possible. This must simply be a side-effect of transitioning dimensions while in a state of conflux. You have let the turmoil within manifest, and Fred is the form it's taken. How long has this been going on? You said that it's been days and days... Is that all?"
ILLYRIA; He spoke as if she had done it on purpose, putting herself in this situation when all she wanted was to find her place. Her annoyance made her movements more rigid, as she stared at him, head tilted slightly. Good. He was sitting down. Not leaving, for now.
"Days and days... They fall together. Time has become erratic around me and I do not bother trying to keep them all separated. Spike is uncomfortable with it. He is too weak to understand." She walked to the window, craving the illusion of space. "I remember that I have been here before. But it is a long time ago."
And she came back to the same thing, the same problem as always. "You died before everything was chaos. And then, suddenly, you returned." She looked back at him, taking him in. Her gaze did not soften, but inside, she felt as if order was being restored albeit very slowly. Like peace, descending quietly over an empty battlefield.
WESLEY; The way she spoke made him wonder just what else had become erratic within her. Her powers? She seemed to be back at full strength when taking Angelus down. Would the events Angel spoke of happen once more here? Even if he didn't know the detail that led up to it, he knew that one of the triggers had been Fred's memories.
It was a very fine line they all were treading.
"...You don't mean here, do you." There was a flicker in his eyes, the gravity of the situation making things even murkier. "Right. The future...you seem to have caught up with it. You might understand, then, why I'm not so eager to follow. Angel said that I look the way I once did. That I'm not corporeal. And I'm the Senior Partners' only liaison. A puppet... Who knows why. If you hadn't seen me in awhile, the shock must have made you transform just before you were brought back here. But..."
Arms folded, Wesley stiffened, recalling what she spoke of. Spike. If only the Spike here in the City wasn't of the past. Wesley would have liked to ask him in detail about what he'd witnessed of Illyria. "Spike was close to Fred. It's only natural that he's uncomfortable to it. You two...have been staying together? How does he react when you turn?"
ILLYRIA; She thought of Wesley as a puppet, lower than a servant, lower than most humans. It bothered her to a certain extent - he was more than this, though not by far. She felt as if someone had stolen something from her and it did not suit her.
"I have taken him as my pet. He is marginally entertaining." She felt that Wesley was still very uncomfortable; reading minds would have been a useful skill, even if it was the coward's way to solve a conflict. She could feel his emotions and they confused her which in turn, made her feel sick to her core. He took up so much space, for such a small creature. "When I get weak, he locks me away. He cannot deal with it because he is afraid of losing what is left of her. "
She could understand his reaction; he was not as strong as his arrogance implied and she did not expect a mere vampire to be of any actual assistance.
WESLEY; The casual way she continued to refer to Spike as a pet made him snort softly. Still, the idea was no longer as amusing as it had been at Wolfram & Hart. They were constantly together now, and Wesley was no longer around to mediate. Angel had said that the two of them had spent a good long while around one another. Which meant that Spike and Illyria probably spent the same amount of time in marginally closer quarters. How much time had passed?
"That doesn't sound like an altogether horrible idea. I suppose that also means you don't always shift when in danger." Wesley's lips pressed firmly together, and there was another uncomfortable shift as he started to get back up. "I don't think I can really lock you up. No doubt the City officials would take issue with it." Not to mention...he couldn't listen to Fred's cries every time - false or not.
"You claim I ought to bear it with you, but that isn't the only answer. There are obviously triggers. It happened when you saw me, and when you thought Angelus was feeling guilt. All you need to do is stay away from us. Stay away from those who are important to Fred. It's a large enough City. It might be the best way to keep you safe."
ILLYRIA; She whirled to face him, without moving away from the window. It was not anger this time, not exactly. He would not do this, simply to get rid of her. She was worth more than this and he knew, he had to know...
But this. This solution, she could not bear. "I may have a weakness, but I am still stronger than all of you. Do not presume to protect me. It offends me." She was speaking more quickly than she normally would, aware that she felt agitated. More than angry. "Would you have me wandering around, without guidance and without a semblance of order? I know no one in this City. It would do me no favors."
She curled her hands into fists, her body almost shaking, straining to break loose, to do something and set herself right. "There would be nothing for me."
WESLEY; Inadvertently or not, she was managing to make him feel guilt. The suddenness of it almost made him sit back down, but he refrained, arms dropping to his sides. She was being emotional, but she had a point. Though he knew the triggers, sending her away was no guarantee. And in that fragile state, anyone or anything could take advantage of her.
But it was worse when he was around, wasn't it? Which was more unbearable? Tolerating the shadows of Fred's memories, or being completely without them? Either way, Illyria was at risk. But it didn't matter what he thought was a more sound solution. He could not make Illyria go if she didn't want to.
Stepping carefully, Wesley moved towards her until he was also beside the window. "There is nothing for you here. You know that. What knowledge I have is useless to you now. You walk a different path from before. One I'm no longer walking with you."
ILLYRIA; Nothing for her. By principle. She listened, allowing him to intrude upon her personal space, despite the fact that she did not know what to do with him. She understood his point - she had always listened to advisors, even if she did not like what they said. It did not cost her anything but composure to listen; and that loss was easily corrected.
However. Advisors were only that; providers of hypothetical solutions. She was the ruler. She was above them, even in her current condition. And she would let nothing deter her from her chosen path, even if the goal was unclear to her.
"Perhaps. But you are a part of my existence all the same." It was an admission of a kind; to say that yes, he did mean something to her, did take up space, though the nature of it was undecided as of yet. "I am walking blindly now. Your presence would not change this fact." She looked at him, drawing nearer to him, reducing the space between them to inches. "But it would make the path less chaotic."
WESLEY; That made him draw back, though it was more because of her words than how close she suddenly was. Once again, his eyes were clouded, and there was a furrow to his brow as he turned and stalked away. "Maybe for you. I actually let myself be fooled when you first arrived, and I know Fred better than anyone. You've no idea what this all means to me. If anything, it's become more chaotic on my end."
Aggravated, Wesley reached up to rub at the back of his neck, pacing. This was all one giant question mark, and he didn't like it. He wondered how he would react when he returned and saw her again. Would he handle it better? Surely the situation would be different. From the way Angel made it sound, he wouldn't have the time to sit around and sulk about it.
Not that he was sulking.
"At the very least, you know that you can't see Spike should he be released. He's still without a soul, and if he triggers a transformation, I've no doubt he won't think twice about hurting you. It isn't as if he always learns from his mistakes, and he's not... Whatever it is that you two had during your time together..." He really didn't like thinking about it. "You can't have that here. Obviously."
ILLYRIA; She frowned, watching him pace. His weaknesses did not interest her. They never had before. She had taken his wishes into account when he asked her to, but only when she needed him to help her. If respecting his wishes meant letting him leave her behind, she would not even consider it.
"Spike makes for acceptable companionship, as long as he remembers his place." She looked away, out of the window, her next words spoken with cold precision. "I do not even expect that much from you and yet, you object to my company."
She knew not to approach Spike here; she would not have to if Wesley did not keep telling her that he would not help her. It made her angry, impatient, that he could not simply accept this. It confused her too. The woman he had loved was closer to the surface than she had ever been before and still, he would have her leave.
WESLEY; His steps slowed, and finally stopped. Allowing himself to become this outwardly upset wouldn't get him anywhere. There was a point he was reaching where even he could recognize his lack of stability, a point where he didn't know if he'd rather spend the rest of his days seeking the answers in his books, or simply give up while sitting and brooding.
"I'm not...objecting to your company. Your company is not the issue at hand." There was a deep breath taken to ground himself. It helped, sometimes, to mimic the actions he once was required to do in order to survive. Reminded him of what he was: a man. A very lost man, and despite the constant company, very alone.
"...You weren't gone from here for as long as you seem to think. A few weeks at best." There was more of a softness to his tone now, as he watched her out of the corner of his eye. "Given the track records of people from our world, I had a feeling you would show up again. Yet I wasn't quite sure what to do with myself while you were gone. I imagine I have more of a purpose assisting Angel in the hell dimension that once was Los Angeles, but here it's much slower, despite the curses. I did more research to help the time pass, but I've yet to find anything helpful. Yours is such a unique case, after all."
ILLYRIA; She nodded, eyes narrowing a fraction again. "Unique. You have known no one like me before. And you will not." She thought of him, staying here with that woman companion - Cordelia - and with Angel and Spike. Staying here, out of her reach, filling his death with useless, empty content. Human nature. The hollowness of their existence.
"But you would not prefer my company if you could choose." He would never choose her instead of them. He would never choose her instead of Fred. The thought made her look away, look out of the window, look at something that could remind her that yes, she still existed. She was and would always be Illyria; but she did not fully understand what that actually meant anymore.
He did nothing to drag her back to that time, to make her remember what she was supposed to be. But it did not matter to her because he did something else instead, something better. With him, she felt like she was moving.