Title: As She Was, Not As She Is
Pairing: Fred and Wesley
Rating: PG
Type: Angst
Summary: "Do you always like splotchy girls?"
Spoilers: AtS (Angel the Series) Season 5.15 for "Hole In The World"
Author's Notes: This story was written as a vignette lamenting one of my favorite relationships off the show itself, but one that never really got a chance before it was ended. This is my take on what I watched play out on Wednesday night (11-25-04).
Disclaimer: The characters, various dialogue and storyline within this vignette do not belong to me, they belong solely to Joss Whedon their creator, Mutant Enemy, and the various writer's, producers, cast, crew and actors who portray them. Neither one are being used for profit. It was written for my own entertainment.
Closing his eyes the tips of his fingers trace the worn-well but hidden text of the pages moving with quiet unresolved agility, words beneath them coming to life, the sound of his voice alive in his own ears as Fred lay dying beside him. Wesley knows he doesn't have much more time left, he can feel her slipping away.
It's eating at his heart, chipping away at every ounce of steel resolve he has inside; still he has to remain strong for her. He has to trust that Angel and Spike can save her that they can find the cause and arrive with the cure still saving the world. For a brief moment his eyelids slide shut, his brow arches and his shoulders slump.Wesley is losing this battle and there is nothing that he can do to stop it. He feels so helpless with Fred lying there next to him now fully embraced in his arms, still slowly dying.
There isn't anything that he can do except hold her, comfort her, kiss the top of her head, which he has done several times tonight, and read to her as she's requested. He's reading A Little Princess to her as per her request, because after all he is book man and he can make the book be anything that he wants and he wants it to be whatever she needs it to be right now.
So hereads to her as her small petite frame molds itself to his body, his fingertips barely brushing the hair back from her face as he glances down at her, leaning over momentarily to place another soft kiss to her forehead. He loves her immensely, more so than he'll ever find the words with which to let her know, but somehow he thinks she gets it without him ever having to say it. He would though, without her even having to ask, but it hurts too much just to say it now.
Wesley'seyes are big and full of pain, but still he presses on through the night. His heart feels like it's being ripped out of his chest and he knows, believes that he'll stop breathing the moment that Fred stops. His eyes pop open and he can't think about it, can't let himself entertain the thought of losing her not after waiting such a long time to be this way with her.
He's wanted to be a part of her world from the very moment he laid eyes on her in Pylea, but was only afforded a spectator's position watching and waiting, sitting there abiding his time and praying for her to come to him or for the right moment when he would be able to go to her with his feelings.
In his arms this dying woman, all splotchy and veiny is the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. Her eyes peer up at him as he's paused his reading momentarily, his hand slipping further down her face, cupping her cheek the palm of his hand softly caressing her face and he nearly chokes on his own tears, thick and raw in his throat as he hears her voice break the silence.
"Do you always like splotchy girls?"
And he has to half-chuckle as he chokes to keep from sobbing uncontrollably.
"It's my curse," are the only words permitted to pass through his lips.
Wesleyreads a little longer to her trying to ignore the throbbing pain in his chest that he knows is becoming very inevitable, but still he has to let himself believe there has to be a way to save her, that Angel and Spike will make it back and they will be able to restore her. Fred shivers next to him and he pulls her closer as he watches her body contract involuntarily from the convulsions she's gone into.
Ilyria is inside hollowing his love out and inhabiting her skin wearing her tiny frame, taking on her life form and there isn't one thing he can do about it except wait, wait for Angel and Spike, wait for the cure, or wait for whatever may or may not come, whichever happens first. Behind her hollow eyes he can see the tiredness setting in around the frayed edges, he understands how exhausted she must be, how hard it is to fight. For once he is left with no words, he has many words but they aren't the right ones to use he doesn't think.
Fred's voice is far away and strained, distant when she fights to speak. It takes everything in her and the pain is immense as it moves through her body, burning her from the inside out. She's liquefying fast and there isn't anything anyone can do to stop it. Her organs are cooking and she's sweating steam alone. Her eyes upturned towards him, tears creasing her small bird-like features she barely manages.
"Will you kiss me?"
Wesley doesn't wait, doesn't miss a beat. He's there, he's right there arms wrapping around her, pulling her up in them, positioning her to face him as he supports her fail body, his eyes scanning her withering but beautiful face, his lips pressing against hers mouth opening against hers as he kisses her so thoroughly, like it's going to be the last time that he will ever get to kiss her and he wants to do it right. He wants to kiss her right, to kiss her like she's never been kissed before.
He thinks he owes this to her, to kiss her like she's wanted and needed and loved. He knows she can feel it, her small hand lifting as she presses her palm to his chest to feel his heart beating. Her voice is there as she pulls back and looks down.
"Would you have loved me?"
She asks and he is so honest it almost burns right through him.
"I've loved you since I've known you. No that's not—I think maybe even before."
Fred's forehead falls forward slowly, softly resting against his.
"I'm so sorry."
She whispers in a ragged voice filled with much pain.
"No. No. No."
He stops her because this is much more than he can bear for the moment.
Wesley thinks any minute now his heart is going to beat its way right out of his chest and he's going to have to explain why his organ, the vital sign of life, now lies in ruin on the floor. He wouldn't mind telling Fred, giving her the answer that she's asking for with her eyes, but he knows they don't have much time and he wants to make what little time he has left with her worthwhile.
He can feel her body shivering again, but watches her refuse to give in as her eyes roll back into their sockets for a moment, she fights to stay with him, too stay there and stay focused.
"He helped me here again. I'm with him. He won't leave me now. We're so close."
He is there crouched next to the bed, her weak arms wrapped around her small frame, his own hand outstretched and holding the smallness of hers in it. Pain reflects in his eyes as he listens to her while she moans in pain and talks of different things.
"Would you read to me some more?"
Fred asks quietly as she turns her head to look up into his eyes, hers burning with pain.Wesley nods swiftly and begins to move away from her only for a moment to reach for the book as she distracts him by looking at the light above his head.
"The light…it hurts my eyes, but I don't want you to turn it off. But it hurts my eyes. Everything's so bright and hollow. Cavemen win. Of course the cavemen win."
Hewatches in horror, utter astounding shock and pain foreshadowing his features as her body moves across the bed, convulsing in involuntary contractions painful to the touch when he reaches out with his own hands, leaning over body trying to calm her as best he knows. She cries out in pain once more and it rips right through him. He doesn't know much longer he can hold on, how much longer he can take watching her in so much pain, listening to her cries of madness, delirious from the pain the oldest demon is inflicting on her.
"Oh, God! I've sinned. I've sinned, and I'm being punished. I don't know what's wrong. I never got a B- before. Uhh! Sorry. I'm sorry. Make it stop!"
Wesleywatches her writhing on the bed in excruciating pain overcome with grief, his hand rising to his mouth at the thought of his own inability to help her moves him to tears. When she begs it is with pain filled eyes.
"Why did we go there? Why did we think we could beat it? It's evil, Wesley. It's bigger than anything."
He doesn't stop himself from leaning in closer to her, strong protective hands reaching out to touch her softly as he assures her.
"I don't believe that."
He truly doesn't, not right now, not while he can still believe that Angel and Spike will find a way to save her while saving the world too.
Fred panics as she moves back up the bed, scrambling towards the headboard. She's still thrashing about, but it becomes a little more subdued.
"Uggh!"
She's pointing to him now and crying out.
"I'm with him."
Her tears coat her cheeks.
"He won't leave me now. We're so close."
Wesley's eyes lock on hers as his forehead rests softly against hers, he promises her.
"I will never leave you."
There is nothing that would ever make him break that promise. He would die before it ever came to pass.
She is panting again, thrashing around on the bed as he tries to keep a hold of her.Wesley's eyes are watching her every movement, studying her in a way that he's never known her to be. He listens to her muffled hmm's and oh's, feeling his heart clench inside his chest. The vital muscle of life squeezing and contracting painfully, hand reaching up to his chest then towards hers as he catches it in his. It is so small compared to his and he can't help but feel himself smile.
"Hmph. Oh. Hmm. That was bad, but it's better now. You won't leave me?"
It's all he can do to whisper, "I won't."
Heis holding her in his arms when she speaks again. Her voice weak and shallow, but determined always determined.
"My boys. I walk with heroes. Think about that."
It's there, the pride and loyalty behind her sad eyes sunken back into her head, hollowed out with a small tiny light still left reflected in them, it's something that Ilyria hasn't been able to snuff out just quite yet. His fingers curl around hers, his tears more evident in his eyes, glittering like diamonds flashing back at her he finds his voice and manages to whisper, while walking his fingertips along the backs of her hand touching her skin softly, feeling it, feeling her beneath them.
"You are one."
Wesley ismore sincere than he's ever been in his entire life, more so broken than he hasever before.
Tears form behind her eyes and spill down Fred's cheeks. She is panting her body slowly stiffening in his arms.
"Superhero. And this is my power: to not let them take me. Not me."
He is there moving closer to her beside her, sitting next to her and holding her.
"That's right."
She laces her fingers through his and echoes him.
"That's right. He's with me."
Wesleyknows she's burning inside and he cannot stop it, cannot subdue the pain. Ilyria is running her course, hollowing his love out even more, might as well be the one who's heart is baking to a crisp, chipping away and burning the skin off. He thinks it might as well be him that's turned into the human melting pot of pain and sorrow.
"Look," he says as he turns is eyes back towards her, towards his love, "look at how well we fit together, so perfect, it's like we belong."
He feels silly, British and almost embarrassed all at once, but he cannot ignore his senses. He has to trust himself enough to be so honest with her, because these are his last moments. These precious moments as he watches her slowly and painfully shrink away from him he knows he has to give her more than she's ever been given, so she'll have something to take with her wherever she's going to.
Wesley smiles back at Fred when she smiles at him for the first time this night. It is bright and beautiful and he wishes there could be more smiles as he mentally curses the time that has befallen them.
There is a moment, just a moment when her smile falters just a little wavering and her body jerks back forcefully, nearly tearing herself out of his arms, from within his embrace and he has to fight to hold onto her because that's the only sure thing he's had in his life and he doesn't want to lose it just yet. He is being selfish now but he will remain her stalwart standing fast until the bitter end.
Her eyes snap open and she lifts herself up with every last inch of strength she has left as his strong arms lock around her, pulling her body closer to his own, rocking her back and forth in slow rhythmic motion. His lips are pressed against her forehead and tears are glistening, coating his thick dark lashes.
Wesleywatches her bottom lip begin to tremble and knows she's losing the fight.
"Shh,"
He murmur's against her ear, kissing it softly in a soothing manner as his other hand works to smooth her hair back from her face, "you must save what little strength you have left. It will do you better for it. You have to fight. You don't have to talk, just concentrate on fighting. Just hold on."
Fred's body stiffens for a moment in his arms and then relaxes as another wave of uncontrollable convulsions ripples through her. He knows she's worn and spent, and she's ready to unravel. Each time it gets longer, each time it gets much harder for her to come back. She's fading fast and it's happening beyond his control.
"I need you to talk to my parents. They have to know I wasn't scared, that it was quick. That I wasn't scared."
She asks him, though it is more a statement than a request.
Pulling back he lifts his trembling hand, his world crashing in on him, the reality of it shifting in his eyes as he nods slowly to her. He doesn't trust himself to speak just yet and when he's able to find his voice he whispers.
"I love you."
In the softest voice as he presses his lips to her forehead kissing her skin, knowing it won't be much longer until she's gone and Ilyria has completed her task.
"I'm not scared. I'm not scared. I'm not scared. Please, Wesley, why can't I stay?"
Fred whispers as her eyes cry out in pain, her body convulsing once, twice and then going still and he knows her time is now over. He doesn't have an answer and if he did he doesn't think he would be able to say it.
Holding her limp and frail body in his arms his eyes fill with tears unable to blink them back this time, as he hugs her against him, rocking her back and forth, his voice ragged and filled with fear, sorrow and a deeper well of sadness than he's ever felt before.
"Please."
He whispers over and over.
"Please."
Wesleyhugs her body still closer to his, lowering his own head to rest on her shoulder, burrowing his face in the nook between her shoulder and neck, tears soaking onto her skin, coating her in their warmth.
There's a hole in the world tonight. There's a hole inside of his chest where his heart used to be, living, breathing and beating.He wonders if that hole is big enough to pass right straight through the middle of the earth, far enough that someone could be standing on the other side looking back up at him that same moment.
Everything has stopped; he's suspended in time and Angel's too late. Two Champions trying to save the world couldn't sacrifice the many for her. They faltered and in that time she passed. He understands. He's not mad. How could he be when he knows she would not, Angel's mission had given her, had given them all purpose and it was a cause any one of them would have died for and did.
Fred had been their center, the one thing that they could all agree on and he would not cheapen her memory by shaming her Angel. Handsome man, he saved her from the monsters. He was there in Pylea and had brought her back with them, she had tried to save Spike herself and now both of them had done their best to save her. They had all done their very best.
Wesley owed it to her memory to honor her as the woman she once had been and not as she was standing in the form of Illyria now.