Author:
Rating: NC-17. Pretty dark.
Spoilers: Through 5.19 "Time Bomb."
1
Wes dreams he catches her. Mashes his mouth against hers, and she loves it. Of course she loves it. He pulls down the delectably thin straps of her dress, slides up her skirt, and then she's all naked legs and arms and breasts. He pushes inside and she loves it. He slams her hard. "No, don't - please - yes - please," she moans. She loves it, but he doesn't care about her pleasure. All he cares about is possessing her, whether she will or no. He rips her dress so loudly it wakes him.
In bed, in the dark, he strokes himself fast and hard, shakes with weeping when he comes.
He is that man, the despoiler. He is his father's son. The rage beneath the humiliation could make him that cold, that brutal.
He'd wanted her before Billy's infection. Had thought of bending her over his desk and taking her. So easy (impossible, with a girl like Fred), just to take her. He'd imagined her loving it.
2
In that shining week of their courtship, when inexplicably Fred turns and wants him - him, not Gunn, not Knox - he thinks that perhaps if/when they finally make love, it will erase that awful day. Chasing her through the hotel. Slapping her down, calling her stupid. Smashing his mouth against hers. How can you come back from that, even if it was Billy's fault, not the terrible truth about him?
Lilah had told him, one night after sex, about Billy's effect on Gavin. He rearranged my face, she'd said casually. Of course, Wes himself had done worse than that, since - he'd chopped Lilah's head off. Not the same thing, lover, he can almost hear her say. You were trying to prevent me from being taken over by something that wasn't me. You know what that's like, don't you? That's what Billy did to you. But don't worry - I shot the son of a bitch. Consider it my gift to you, retroactively.
Not that she would've given him and Fred her blessing. The idea of Lilah giving anything her blessing is laughable. Perhaps that's why he still thinks Lilah is the woman he deserves, not Fred.
Not that he's going to throw away his ridiculous good fortune.
3
"There is a memory that did not change," Illyria says. "One I am curious about."
On the floor with his books and papers, Wes can't stifle a giggle. He knows the memory to which she refers. Why couldn't that have been a manufactured memory? But no, in both realities he tried to rape and kill Fred. She had forgiven him, said he wasn't responsible, called him a good man.
"You attempted to take what you wanted," Illyria says. She strides up, gazes challengingly down at him. Her face so un/like Fred's. It is comforting, in an insane kind of way, that Illyria is impervious to any violence he might wish to attempt upon her. It is oddly relaxing.
"I was under the influence of a demon," he says. "Still, I should have been able to fight it. I didn't fight it at all."
"Perhaps you did not wish to fight it. Perhaps you only wished to possess and destroy."
Perhaps, he thinks. Cordelia had let slip to Wes that Angel wasn't affected by Billy's touch. Angel hadn't raised a hand to Cordy, hadn't barraged her with insults.
"But that is not Fred's memory of it," Illyria continues. "Her memory of it is, that it was not Wesley."
Thank you, he thinks. He does not wish to cry in front of Illyria. "Leave me," he says. "Please."
She cocks her head, studies him. "I will go," she says, and does.
Leave me, please, he bids the memories, but they stay.
October 27 2004, 00:00:09 UTC 7 years ago
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Poor Wes.
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7 years ago
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October 27 2004, 07:36:22 UTC 7 years ago
Loved it.
October 27 2004, 15:00:02 UTC 7 years ago
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October 27 2004, 13:44:50 UTC 7 years ago
Gina
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So perfect that, long after, Illyria gives him that comfort.
October 29 2004, 10:16:21 UTC 7 years ago
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