This was not going well, Wesley thought. Vail had proven to be far to powerful. He knew this off course before going into this battle. But that he would be defeated so early on, that he hadn't planned. Nor had he planned on dying, though he had, naturally, considered that it could very well end that way for him. For them all.
Pressing a hand to his side, he could feel the blood seeping through it. Always blood. He was reminded of another time when blood was seeping through his hands. His own blood, while he was fighting to stay alive. He had survived then, even though many times he wished he had not. And right now, he felt he didn't care much either way.
Opening his eyes, he look up with a frown. "Illyria?" he asked weakly, looking at her puzzled. Groaning he pushed himself up and removed his hand from his side. "Yes," he agreed, "that would seem to be the case." Putting the hand back he looked up at her again. "Why are you here?"
She would shrug, if she was the one to shrug. Instead she looked past him with the same expression she always wore. "I killed all mine," she said, as if it was obvious.
He didn't look good. Bloody stain on his shirt was getting larger. With suprise she noted she wanted it to stop. If it continued to do so, Wesley would die and she didn't want that. The mere thought was... unpleasant.
"Of course you did," Wesley said, looking at her with an raised eyebrow. She was here because she killed all of hers? He had never any doubt she would have been able to do her task successfully. But that really didn't explain why she was here.
"I suppose I should." Wesley glanced down at his side again, the blood still seeping through his fingers, sticking to his skin, flowing away just like his life would fade if he didn't do anything. "I'm not a doctor however and we...you don't have time," he corrected himself.
Looking up, he winced and narrowed his eyes at Illyria. Breathing was starting to become a bit hard and he was so very, very cold. "Illyria, they'll need you. You can't stay here. You need to go to the alley," he insisted, trying to get her face to focus. Fred...Illyria...did it matter anymore?
"I'm not a bloody dog," Wesley muttered. But he leaned against the all nevertheless. Slowly he slid down, tired, tired of it all. He held onto the dead body of his friend while hs slid down the wall. Sitting in the rain he felt like crying
( ... )
She was pleased to see he did as she told. Watching him for a moment, as he stared at the weapons she found, his eyes glistening with moisture, she decided he will be alright. His breathing was much more steady and not that shallow as when she arrived in Vail's mansion.
He would live. If only he stopped to anger her with his stubborness. He wasn't in the state to exert himself as he insisted to. It was foolish.
It was quite a shock for her that she not only hadn't crush his skull for disobedience, but followed him as she was told...
It had to end, and it had to end soon. Illyria won't listen to orders of a mere human. For now though... She will stay with him. Because it suited her, not because she needed him.
She casted one last glance at the alley. "Your leader slayed the dragon," she offered, her voice almost suggesting respect.
Kicking the backdoor of the Hyperion, Wesley struggled to get Gunn inside. Rather ungracefully, he dropped the man on a nearby sofa in the loby. "He did?" Wesley looked up and stared at her. "He would, the sod," he said fondly, his voice tainted with pride.
He glanced around the familiar loby, sucking in his breath. The ghosts of the past haunted him, happy and sad memories alike assaulting him. Voices of his friends echoing in his mind. Swallowing hard, he leaned against the counter willing them away.
He could deal with those later, not now. Now he needed to focus on getting his friends the last respect they had earned. Even Fred, because it was time to let go of her as well. No matter how much it hurt, since her body was right there next to him.
She looked around, walking up to the counter, placing the weapons there.
It was the strangest feeling... the hotel was so familiar, and yet so strange to her. She was never here before, but she remembered everything. She turned around, her eyes wide, taking everything in. Her gaze finally rested on him.
"You have found the body of your companion. You have retrieved the weapons. Would you know get the medical attention?" she asked.
He was worrying her. But most of all she was worried because of the freezing cold she felt inside, because of the lump in her throat.
... no one to save her from the monsters now...
"What shall we do now, Wesley?" she asked, her voice shaking.
He wasn't looking at her. Not when she took on this form, not when she played the part with such perfection. Anyone who didn't know would be thoroughly fooled by her play. But she wasn't Fred, she was Ilyria. She would and could never be Fred. Fred was gone...really gone
( ... )
She nodded, patting Wesley's hand. She knew he didn't like this, but... "He is that," she smiled. "But I'm sure he will take all his medication this time, won't you, Wes?" she looked at him, still smiling. "It will get you released sooner, right?" she glanced hopefully at the doctor.
"As I said, Miss, we'll see. Mister Pryce, Miss," he nodded, making the last note on the legal pad and heading out, nurse following quickly, with a final smile at Illyria and warm glare at Wesley. "Take care of him, honey."
She smiled again, nodded again and staid with a smile on her face until the door closed. The smile disappeared, and she cocked her head left, rising to her feet and looking at Wesley expectantly.
Wesley yanked his hand away and felt the urge to wash it. He hated it when she did this. Hated it when she played the part of Fred. And she knew it, he had told her as much the last time she pulled this stunt.
But he knew she had very little choice now. Even though it pained him, annoyed him...hurt him more then any physical wounds could. He knew her true appearance would only lead to questions.
Sighing, he dropped himself back into the pillows, tube in his arms momentarily forgotten. He was so tired, he blamed the medication for that though. He tried to keep his eyes open as he looked at her. "What did you do with Gunn?" he asked softly. If he was going to be here longer, they needed to preserve the body somehow.
It hurt. She was used to that by now, to the feelings she hated. Hatred was a new emotion too... But somehow it hurt more when she was in this form. As if with Fred's appearance she took on all her feelings too.
"They took care of the body. Told me to call the morgue about funeral arrangements," she offered. "You should do this when you're feeling better," she added, willing him to take a rest at last. "If you obey doctor's orders I shall convince him to release you as soon as possible." This form had its advantages when it came to this, but she didn't think mentioning it would be a good idea.
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Pressing a hand to his side, he could feel the blood seeping through it. Always blood. He was reminded of another time when blood was seeping through his hands. His own blood, while he was fighting to stay alive. He had survived then, even though many times he wished he had not. And right now, he felt he didn't care much either way.
Opening his eyes, he look up with a frown. "Illyria?" he asked weakly, looking at her puzzled. Groaning he pushed himself up and removed his hand from his side. "Yes," he agreed, "that would seem to be the case." Putting the hand back he looked up at her again. "Why are you here?"
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Instead she looked past him with the same expression she always wore.
"I killed all mine," she said, as if it was obvious.
He didn't look good. Bloody stain on his shirt was getting larger. With suprise she noted she wanted it to stop. If it continued to do so, Wesley would die and she didn't want that. The mere thought was... unpleasant.
"You must stop the flow of blood," she announced.
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"I suppose I should." Wesley glanced down at his side again, the blood still seeping through his fingers, sticking to his skin, flowing away just like his life would fade if he didn't do anything. "I'm not a doctor however and we...you don't have time," he corrected himself.
Looking up, he winced and narrowed his eyes at Illyria. Breathing was starting to become a bit hard and he was so very, very cold. "Illyria, they'll need you. You can't stay here. You need to go to the alley," he insisted, trying to get her face to focus. Fred...Illyria...did it matter anymore?
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He would live. If only he stopped to anger her with his stubborness. He wasn't in the state to exert himself as he insisted to. It was foolish.
It was quite a shock for her that she not only hadn't crush his skull for disobedience, but followed him as she was told...
It had to end, and it had to end soon. Illyria won't listen to orders of a mere human.
For now though... She will stay with him. Because it suited her, not because she needed him.
She casted one last glance at the alley. "Your leader slayed the dragon," she offered, her voice almost suggesting respect.
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He glanced around the familiar loby, sucking in his breath. The ghosts of the past haunted him, happy and sad memories alike assaulting him. Voices of his friends echoing in his mind. Swallowing hard, he leaned against the counter willing them away.
He could deal with those later, not now. Now he needed to focus on getting his friends the last respect they had earned. Even Fred, because it was time to let go of her as well. No matter how much it hurt, since her body was right there next to him.
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It was the strangest feeling... the hotel was so familiar, and yet so strange to her. She was never here before, but she remembered everything. She turned around, her eyes wide, taking everything in. Her gaze finally rested on him.
"You have found the body of your companion. You have retrieved the weapons. Would you know get the medical attention?" she asked.
He was worrying her. But most of all she was worried because of the freezing cold she felt inside, because of the lump in her throat.
... no one to save her from the monsters now...
"What shall we do now, Wesley?" she asked, her voice shaking.
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"As I said, Miss, we'll see. Mister Pryce, Miss," he nodded, making the last note on the legal pad and heading out, nurse following quickly, with a final smile at Illyria and warm glare at Wesley. "Take care of him, honey."
She smiled again, nodded again and staid with a smile on her face until the door closed. The smile disappeared, and she cocked her head left, rising to her feet and looking at Wesley expectantly.
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But he knew she had very little choice now. Even though it pained him, annoyed him...hurt him more then any physical wounds could. He knew her true appearance would only lead to questions.
Sighing, he dropped himself back into the pillows, tube in his arms momentarily forgotten. He was so tired, he blamed the medication for that though. He tried to keep his eyes open as he looked at her. "What did you do with Gunn?" he asked softly. If he was going to be here longer, they needed to preserve the body somehow.
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It hurt. She was used to that by now, to the feelings she hated. Hatred was a new emotion too... But somehow it hurt more when she was in this form. As if with Fred's appearance she took on all her feelings too.
"They took care of the body. Told me to call the morgue about funeral arrangements," she offered. "You should do this when you're feeling better," she added, willing him to take a rest at last. "If you obey doctor's orders I shall convince him to release you as soon as possible."
This form had its advantages when it came to this, but she didn't think mentioning it would be a good idea.
"Would you rest now?"
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