Her smile seemed to radiate through him, like a beam of sunshine through long-suffering darkness. He could not help but grin back, walking towards her slowly, as if in a dream.

It felt like such a long time since he had seen her, gazed into her deep, chocolate brown eyes. He reached towards her, tracing a hand down her face, another reaching into her wavy hair.

"Fred…" he began, her floral scent intoxicating.

She put a finger to her lips, motioning silence, "Shh… they'll hear us. We can't be caught." Her voice had a tone of urgency, as her eyes grew wide and scared.

"What is it, Fred?" Wesley prompted; fear creeping up behind him and seeping slowly into his soul, "what will catch us?"

"I'm scared," she cried, grasping his arms tightly. He pulled her close.

"It's going to be alright"

"No…" she pulled away to look him in the eyes, "I told you to tell them I wasn't scared… you know that was a lie!"

"No… I'm not losing you again!" Wesley grabbed her again, somehow feeling he could keep her alive through touch. She was so real.

"It's not Illyria, Wesley… it's something dark… something… I don't know what it is, but something is pulling me away from you," Fred was sobbing now, tears trailing down her cheeks. Wesley would give anything to make them stop, her pain was tearing him apart.

"Why did we go there? Why did we think we could beat it? It's evil, Wesley. It's bigger than anything."

"No, Fred. Nothing can take you from me"

"Ever?"

"Never. I won't let it"

At that moment, a cold darkness spread across them, chilling Wesley to the bone. Fred's tearstained face started to ebb away into nothingness.

"No…," Wesley murmured, tears drowning his own face, "you can't leave me, I need you… I love you."

"Help me," she mouthed, as something dragged her away. Helpless, all Wesley could do was watch, rooted to the spot by an invisible force.

"I believe you just confessed your love to me. I repeat my proposition: I wish to take our relationship further." Illyria's white face loomed over him, eyes wide with curiosity. Her shocking electric-blue hair stood out against the dark room around her.

"Get out, Illyria," Wesley grunted, "I did not confess my love to you. I was dreaming."

She tilted her head to the side in a sharp motion, "a dream-like state which holds no power over reality. And yet, the words you spoke rang true. The fervent honour in your voice was evident. It was the shell to which you uttered these words."

"You're not wrong," Wesley replied, rubbing his temple in slow motions, realising he needed an aspirin.

Illyria looked affronted, she straightened her posture and regally looked down at him, "The God-King is never wrong. It hurts me that you would assume this possibility."

Wesley looked at her accusingly, meeting her inhuman eyes unflinchingly, "You can't feel hurt. You can't feel anything human. You know why? Because you're not, you never will be!"

"I understand and agree. I am better than a human."

"You're not better than Fred."

He stood up with a flourish, feeling the world spin around him. Illyria remained silent as he made his way to his desk and fumbled through the drawer for an aspirin. He found some and gulped them down with a glass of whiskey.

"You are wrong, Wesley Wyndam Pryce."

"I'm always wrong," he muttered.

"I can feel. I can feel almost as a human does," she admitted reluctantly, pausing between her words, "I feel anger, pride, pain... and something else. A hole inside of me. Where someone is lost. A part of this shell - a part of me - is gone. But it will never be returned, Wesley."

"I know. But I can always dream."

-to be continued-