Apathy
Rated: PG
Summary: Inner musings of Wesley's during the ever of his departure.
Authors note: This take places post season four.
" To look life in the face, to know it for what it is, to love for what it is, it is the right of every human being" - unknown
Wesley moved from room to room, making sure the movers had packed everything appropriately. After about an hour of running back and forth he lied down on his bed satisfied with the job the movers had done. Nothing seemed to be misplaced, broken, or left behind. If everything else goes as smoothly as it did today he should be gone in no time tomorrow, Wesley thought as he rolled over onto his side.
From his position on the bed, he could see outside his window, which provided an amazing view of the city of angels. One of things that had sold him on leasing the place had been the view from his bedroom. His first weeks in L.A. he would spend half the night starring out into the city, wondering as to what the next day would have in store for him.
Los Angeles had turned out to be one hell of a surprise for Wesley Wyndam- Price. He had first arrived as a rogue demon hunter, but ended up staying as the new head of Angel Investigations. He hated to admit it, but at the moment, working at Angel Investigations had been exactly what he had needed. Before coming to L.A. Wesley had been a push over, easily bullied by anyone. But not now! Wesley thought to himself.
Now he was.stronger, that's a good way to put it, he agreed, as his eyes got heavier from the impending sleep that was slowly taking over every inch of his body. He was now stronger, not just physically, but emotionally. Some would say that he was numb, rather than strong, but he chose to ignore such comments. It was actually the opposite; he now felt things deeper than before. Which was why he was living.
He would have no more of risking his life day in and day out for them. Sure, they had all been his friends, but only when something was needed from him. Angel, Cordelia, Fred, and Gunn had all been a lie, or are least their friendship had been. He didn't care for them anymore, after living in exile from their holier-than-thou clique; they were of no interest or value to him anymore.
A week ago he had helped them stop the catastrophic apocalypse that had been threatening to end their insignificant existence, they then had the audacity to extend their unconditional love and friendship once more to him. The one thing he had been coveting for the past year was finally in his reach; all he had to do was forgive them. They made it seem so easy, but it wasn't! Not now, after every thing that had happen.
He couldn't and wouldn't forgive them, which is why he instead turned around, got in his car and drove off. Wesley rolled onto his back and focused on the ceiling, the sudden turn of thoughts erasing any chance of slumber. He could feel rage running through his veins. During this past week he had proceeded to pick up the few pieces of his life that had been planted amongst the city and had made arrangements to leave. Leave the city of angels, the place he had once come to think of as home. "I guess I was wrong" he said out loud, his voice hitting the bare walls. But it was ok; things were going to be just fine. Wesley had never been a stranger to disappointment, either he had once been the cause of it or at least subject to it. Sadly enough, the feeling would always be a part of him, no matter how hard he denied it.
Wesley checked his watch, "it's 3:00 p.m. and the flight leaves at 3:40 p.m." he concluded as he headed towards the nearest Starbucks. Once he had his coffee he got a copy of GQ and sat down to wait for the boarding call. He could feel a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, "how long has it been since I took five minute to read a magazine?" he wondered. Had he seized to exist this past three years? Had he been so desperate for approval and belonging, that he had thrown his life away to "helping the hopeless"? Sadly, he had.
But now was not the time for self- pitying, he had done enough of that this past year. Instead, now was the time to set things right, pick up and leave behind the source of his sorrow. He didn't quite know what laid ahead for him, but he knew that it would be as far away from L.A. as he could get. Perhaps he would go back to the motherland for a while and put his intelligence to good use, he wasn't sure yet. One thing he did know was that he was tire of living for everyone else; it was time to start living for himself. To find happiness wherever it may be. He was willing to travel to the ends of the earth in order to find it, since he knew that it had to be out there, somewhere, just waiting for him to snatch it up and take pleasure in its glory.
Yes, he would find his happiness. It seems like a marvelous start.
Summary: Inner musings of Wesley's during the ever of his departure.
Authors note: This take places post season four.
" To look life in the face, to know it for what it is, to love for what it is, it is the right of every human being" - unknown
Wesley moved from room to room, making sure the movers had packed everything appropriately. After about an hour of running back and forth he lied down on his bed satisfied with the job the movers had done. Nothing seemed to be misplaced, broken, or left behind. If everything else goes as smoothly as it did today he should be gone in no time tomorrow, Wesley thought as he rolled over onto his side.
From his position on the bed, he could see outside his window, which provided an amazing view of the city of angels. One of things that had sold him on leasing the place had been the view from his bedroom. His first weeks in L.A. he would spend half the night starring out into the city, wondering as to what the next day would have in store for him.
Los Angeles had turned out to be one hell of a surprise for Wesley Wyndam- Price. He had first arrived as a rogue demon hunter, but ended up staying as the new head of Angel Investigations. He hated to admit it, but at the moment, working at Angel Investigations had been exactly what he had needed. Before coming to L.A. Wesley had been a push over, easily bullied by anyone. But not now! Wesley thought to himself.
Now he was.stronger, that's a good way to put it, he agreed, as his eyes got heavier from the impending sleep that was slowly taking over every inch of his body. He was now stronger, not just physically, but emotionally. Some would say that he was numb, rather than strong, but he chose to ignore such comments. It was actually the opposite; he now felt things deeper than before. Which was why he was living.
He would have no more of risking his life day in and day out for them. Sure, they had all been his friends, but only when something was needed from him. Angel, Cordelia, Fred, and Gunn had all been a lie, or are least their friendship had been. He didn't care for them anymore, after living in exile from their holier-than-thou clique; they were of no interest or value to him anymore.
A week ago he had helped them stop the catastrophic apocalypse that had been threatening to end their insignificant existence, they then had the audacity to extend their unconditional love and friendship once more to him. The one thing he had been coveting for the past year was finally in his reach; all he had to do was forgive them. They made it seem so easy, but it wasn't! Not now, after every thing that had happen.
He couldn't and wouldn't forgive them, which is why he instead turned around, got in his car and drove off. Wesley rolled onto his back and focused on the ceiling, the sudden turn of thoughts erasing any chance of slumber. He could feel rage running through his veins. During this past week he had proceeded to pick up the few pieces of his life that had been planted amongst the city and had made arrangements to leave. Leave the city of angels, the place he had once come to think of as home. "I guess I was wrong" he said out loud, his voice hitting the bare walls. But it was ok; things were going to be just fine. Wesley had never been a stranger to disappointment, either he had once been the cause of it or at least subject to it. Sadly enough, the feeling would always be a part of him, no matter how hard he denied it.
Wesley checked his watch, "it's 3:00 p.m. and the flight leaves at 3:40 p.m." he concluded as he headed towards the nearest Starbucks. Once he had his coffee he got a copy of GQ and sat down to wait for the boarding call. He could feel a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, "how long has it been since I took five minute to read a magazine?" he wondered. Had he seized to exist this past three years? Had he been so desperate for approval and belonging, that he had thrown his life away to "helping the hopeless"? Sadly, he had.
But now was not the time for self- pitying, he had done enough of that this past year. Instead, now was the time to set things right, pick up and leave behind the source of his sorrow. He didn't quite know what laid ahead for him, but he knew that it would be as far away from L.A. as he could get. Perhaps he would go back to the motherland for a while and put his intelligence to good use, he wasn't sure yet. One thing he did know was that he was tire of living for everyone else; it was time to start living for himself. To find happiness wherever it may be. He was willing to travel to the ends of the earth in order to find it, since he knew that it had to be out there, somewhere, just waiting for him to snatch it up and take pleasure in its glory.
Yes, he would find his happiness. It seems like a marvelous start.