A/N: Uh... Wes/Illyria Don't kill me. Short, but angsty. Wes thinks about his growing feelings for Illyria. Before series finale (probably 3-4 episodes before).
Fragments
She is different. She understands nothing, yet knows more than I fear I ever will. I am the only one she trusts, and she barely even trusts me. It hurts to look at her, to know what she did to Fred. And I can still see a little bit of Fred in the shell of a body that is now Illyria. At random moments, I catch glimpses of the girl I loved. A look, a touch, a spark behind her eyes.
But I try to detatch myself, because it is not her I am seeing, it is her murderer. I try to detatch myself, because it's too soon to be feeling like this, and I can't let her replace Fred. Even though I know she never could, never will.
And I am lying to myself again. I like to do that, you know. Daddy loves me, this all amounts to something, I hate Illyria... I've made a life out of deceptions, only ever allowing Fred to see. And now Illyria has broken all I hold dear, and, in doing so, has seen into me. I didn't want her to; it would've made things much simpler if I could've just killed her and be done with it. But something kept me waiting.
I watched Fred's death. I watched Illyria's rebirth. It seems my life has been irrevocably broken, but two major parts remain: Fred and After Fred. I am left with nothing but pieces of a broken demi-god; beautiful fragments of Illyria that shine in my ever-present darkness. I cannot deny that something is beginning. I see her, and I am not afraid. I both despise and love her. And she trusts me, just a little. Just enough to keep me close. And I know that parts of her are still Fred, but those parts are synapses and electrical impulses. Most of her is Illyria. I have stopped decieving myself. I know this all. I see her for what she is, who she is. And I cannot prevent myself from falling.
She is different. She understands nothing, yet knows more than I fear I ever will. I am the only one she trusts, and she barely even trusts me. It hurts to look at her, to know what she did to Fred. And I can still see a little bit of Fred in the shell of a body that is now Illyria. At random moments, I catch glimpses of the girl I loved. A look, a touch, a spark behind her eyes.
But I try to detatch myself, because it is not her I am seeing, it is her murderer. I try to detatch myself, because it's too soon to be feeling like this, and I can't let her replace Fred. Even though I know she never could, never will.
And I am lying to myself again. I like to do that, you know. Daddy loves me, this all amounts to something, I hate Illyria... I've made a life out of deceptions, only ever allowing Fred to see. And now Illyria has broken all I hold dear, and, in doing so, has seen into me. I didn't want her to; it would've made things much simpler if I could've just killed her and be done with it. But something kept me waiting.
I watched Fred's death. I watched Illyria's rebirth. It seems my life has been irrevocably broken, but two major parts remain: Fred and After Fred. I am left with nothing but pieces of a broken demi-god; beautiful fragments of Illyria that shine in my ever-present darkness. I cannot deny that something is beginning. I see her, and I am not afraid. I both despise and love her. And she trusts me, just a little. Just enough to keep me close. And I know that parts of her are still Fred, but those parts are synapses and electrical impulses. Most of her is Illyria. I have stopped decieving myself. I know this all. I see her for what she is, who she is. And I cannot prevent myself from falling.