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01 November 2009 @ 11:40 pm
Continued from Here

Oh dear lord. My head. My head feels like it'll explode. My body feels as though it's on fire when I try to move. Maybe I just shouldn't move then? Sounds like a rather smart plan. Just lay here for a bit and figure things out. Yes, that sounds like a smart plan indeed.

Slowly my senses are coming back to me. The first thing that hits me is the smell. It's not directly a hospital smell the way they stink in Los Angeles. But I can tell I'm somewhere medical. It's very quiet wherever I am. If I were in a hospital I'd hear the bustling and the loud noises from the hallway. It's never really quiet in a hospital.

So what happened? Why does everything hurt? Why does my skin feel as though it's on fire? When I shift my back it's as if a thousand tiny needles are attacking it at once. It makes me wince, a soft groan escaping my lips. Lips that feel swollen, and not in a good 'I've just gotten kissed' sort of way. There's a needle in my arms, I can tell. It's rather disturbing that I recognize the feeling by now.

"Mugh?" That, I realise, was a rather pitiful attempt to speak. I guess asking where I am and what's going on is too much to ask as of yet. Thirsty though. Bloody hell, I'm so thirsty! Slowly I pry my eyes open and close them again right away. Too bright, far to bright here. Wherever here is. "Ugh?"
Current Mood: soresore
Cordelia Chase: Moi?queen_cordette on November 1st, 2009 10:55 pm (UTC)
It wasn't the hospital where the driver took us, but it was close enough to one. I should have thought that a 'resort' such as this one? Totally has their own doctors on staff. Yep, they sure did. Thank fuck for us - or Wes really - they have both human and demon doctors. This guy really has all his basis covered.

No wonder he wanted those hauntings gone. Nothing spoils a goldmine like this then some pesky ghost. Nothing spoils a nice, hot, tropical vacation more then a martyr Watcher guy who tries to be a hero. I'm gonna kill him when he wakes up.

They had whisked him away once Angel had put him on one of those stretchers. There was no dramatic running through the hallway, which I totally think there should have been. But at least that assured me that whatever was wrong with Wes? Not threatening his life. The only thing threatening his life were me and possibly Angel.

At least the waiting rooms were comfy cosy. Not those ugly plastic uncomfy orange chairs. After a while one of the docs came to see us and explain what they thought had happened. Turns out everyone and their grandmother knows about 'this guy in the desert'. This Shaman whatever Wes went to see. Coulda told them there was magic involved but it's good to know they know what they're doing.

So, magic fatigue something or whatever. Lots of second degree burns, luckily no third. Kinda surprising for such a pale English guy and how long he's been out there. Those second degree ones looked kinda gross enough though. Glad he got the worse bandaged up. Pisses me off, he just got out of the damn bandages from the exploding building! Does he have like... a hot fetish?

All we can do now? Wait. Angel and I - after I made once again clear to mister 'right, okay, good' how *not right, okay and good things were - waited in Wes' room. Only private rooms here. Wow. Even nicer chairs then in the waiting room. Pacing Angel gets on my nerves though. Muchly. I sigh and am about to tell him - for the umpteenth time - to knock it off when there's a sound from the bed.

"Did you hear that?" I ask hopeful, swivelling my head around to look at Wes.
Keep Me: ang sad_keep_me on November 27th, 2009 06:10 pm (UTC)
Pacing. Pacing helps. That way I don't have to look at Cordelia's glare of doom paired with the one where she's just as worried about Wes as I am. Much better to pace since I can't actually do anything to help here. Super strength, speed, hearing, sight, but I can't do a damn thing if one of my people - lovers - gets injured.

Not a damn thing.

I can hear Cordy clearing her throat to growl at me about the pacing for the umpteenth time-

"Yeah!" I say, scurrying to Wes' side, Cordelia on the other. "Definitely heard it," I murmur, peering over the bed at Wes. Who looks horrible, by the way. And we'll probably spend the rest of this vacation watching him heal and listening to Cordelia yell at him. Yup, sounds about right. Or, since Wes isn't really in the game and he's the one who knows how to get rid of this poltergeist, maybe they'll just let us stay a little longer until he recuperates enough to be able to do the spell stuff. Not that I'll be letting him anywhere near magic say for oh, another million years.

Damnit, he could have died!

"Wes?" I say carefully, before glancing over at Cordelia with a worried look on my face. "Maybe, umm, his throat, you know- dry," I say, motioning towards the plastic water pitcher on Cordy's side, trying to make words while Wes is lying here so...*damaged.*
Wesley Wyndam-Pryce: Wes sickwatcher_pryce on December 4th, 2009 11:02 am (UTC)
Ugh. My throat feels like sandpaper. And my mouth tastes like a Kungai demon died in there and then happily rotted away. Groaning, I lick my lips in an attempt to dry them as I try to puzzle together the pieces of my scrambled mine. It's not all that unusual for me to wake up with my mind somewhat scrambled, especially not after a night of research. Too much information will do that to a mind.

So I'm not really worried about that, but what I am worried about is the fact that I'm apparently in a hospital. For some reason I doubt this is the result of a night of research. For one, Cordelia wouldn't allow it on our vacation. For another, Angel wouldn't either and... Oh. Oh wait. It's coming back to me now. The shaman, the spell, the visions.

A year of research, testing, asking has all come to fruitation... Errr, I don't know when. Yesterday? This afternoon? I've no idea how long I've been here. Disturbing that. More importantly I want to know if Cordelia is alright. And Angel, because if it worked he must've notice something as well. God, please let it have worked!

That's when I hear them. Both their voices. And the moment I do I can sense their presence as well. Angel on one side, talking. Cordy on the other, diffidently not talking. My lips part several times as well as I try to speak. Meanwhile I finally manage to open my eyes and the first thing I see is... a very vanilla yellow ceiling. Then Angel and Cordelia as they lean over me looking worried.

"Did--- work?" I rasp, wishing for some water or something similar just when something cold is put on my lips.
Cordelia Chase: shockedqueen_cordette on December 4th, 2009 11:03 am (UTC)
That little railing around the bed is gripped so tightly by me they're gonna have to pry my fingers loose with a crowbar soon. But I'm just so tense that I can't help it. It's better then having them wrapped around Wes' neck where I'd like them! That's for sure. I'm sure Wes' windpipe appreciates it. Not that Angel would let me do that to his Wesley anyway. Though, with as worried and pissy as he is, maybe he'll let me do it for a second or something.

Could be satisfactory for a bit there. What also would be? Wes opening his damn eyes and talking to us. Wonder what it's like to wake up and see Angel and me hovering over your bed. Both of us, and I know this cause I've seen it on Angel and in the mirror on myself, looking worried and pissy at the same time. But seriously, what was he thinking?! Okay, no, I know what he's been thinking.

I got no doubt Angel knows it too. That's Wes through and through. He'd do anything to protect those he loves and the world. If only those looser in Sunnydale could see him now. They'd not make fun of him anymore... well, they probably. Xander would, that'd be so Xander. Ugh! Why am I even thinking about that crap town anyway when Wes is finally waking up. Stupid distraction.

"Yeah, water," I nod at Angel when he motions to the stuff on Wes' side. I pour a glass of water and turn back only to realise that's not gonna work. Can't drink laying down and Wes doesn't look like he'll be sitting up much today. Oh! There's ice chips! That might work even better. Quickly I put the water back down and grab a few of the ice chips to place on Wes' lips.

Only a little bit too late cause there's one of the dreaded questions. "Depends on what you were trying to do, you stupid fucking idiot," I tell him overly cheerful, placing another ice chip in his mouth as he looks at me with those big, big blue eyes. He has really pretty eyes, shouldn't hide them behind glasses. Focus Cordy! You're angry with him! Don't fall for the eyes!

"What were you thinking, Wesley Wyndam-Pryce!" I finally hiss.
Keep Me: ang please_keep_me on December 5th, 2009 06:38 pm (UTC)
Thank god. His eyes finally, finally, finally flutter open and I can see those familiar blue eyes - and relief floods through me. Yeah, I'm still really, really pissed, but he's alive and he's still functioning. God. He could have died, I can't help thinking again. I just want to shake him and ask him what the hell he was thinking.

Thankfully, Cordy does that for me, only without the shaking, though I can see she wants to too. And she calls him a stupid fucking idiot. Thank god for Cordy. Always saying the things I can't seem to say.

"Yeah, Wes, what the hell?" I chime in, feeling more than a little hurt and angry that he would go behind our backs to do this, whatever it is. They keep saying we're a team, but this is not teamwork.

I'm not really doing much to reinforce my being pissed off when my hand searches for his on the soft blanket and I give it a squeeze- well trying to, but it's a little awkward with the IV in the back of his hand.

"What were you doing out there alone?" I say, trying to fight back the protective tone to my voice. We could have helped though! Well, not like either of us would have let him. But he could have gone to a safer place than the middle of a blistering hot beach that no one knew where he was!

I give a glance over at Cordelia, thinking maybe I should go over to her side in case she really freaks out. She's not looking all that great. I may not be good at waiting, but Cordy's much worse at it. And I"m thinking this may have taken its toll a bit. Might hit her once the anger wears off, that is.
Wesley Wyndam-Pryce: Wes sickwatcher_pryce on December 8th, 2009 08:22 am (UTC)
That they're angry doesn't come as a surprise at all. That their anger hurts that does come as a surprise oddly enough. Considering that I'd been expecting it, had been anticipating it. There's no preparing for this anger it would seem. That feeling of 'wrong, failure, mistake' seems to grow again but this time I know I've done the right thing. If I hadn't then Cordelia would have died eventually and Angel would never have forgiven himself. Another burden on his already long, long list.

So I'm laying there, letting them rant. Waiting for the self righteous 'we're a team' lecture. Which is hilarious if it were to come from Angel, who more then anyone of us 'must do all things' by himself and goes off alone at times. And Cordelia? Where was here team spirit when she kept the fact that those visions were killing her slowly quiet? They make their choices, I made mine. Personally, I think mine was more in the spirit of team then theirs.

"Was thinking," I rasp, swallowing the cool water as the ice melts on my lips. God, that feels so good and soothing. Makes me wonder how bloody long I've been out there. Untrustworthy damn shaman.

"of saving your life," I continue, feeling exhausted just from talking alone. Good lord. My eyes slide from Cordelia - still anger radiating from her every pore - to Angel and his seething barely contained anger.

"was thinking... you wanted her alive," I tell Angel, which is followed by a shrug. Of course I could have died. But then the plane could have crashed, I could've walked under a bus or a demon could've done the same everytime we go out to handle a vision.

"I did it-- for you," I whisper, almost pleading with them to understand as I glance from one to the other. I did it for both of them. For Angel and for Cordelia. I cannot live without one or the other and *that* is why it is so important to me that they get along again. I don't know where it went wrong between them but... I want it fixed. I need it fixed. I fixed Cordelia the rest is up to them, I think as I close my eyes with a long, drawn out sigh.
Cordelia Chase: Lose Itqueen_cordette on December 8th, 2009 08:23 am (UTC)
Gah! I'm so *pissed!* I could strangle him and kiss him and hit him and hug him all at the same time. But the moment Wes opens his eyes? I get that urge I always get around him. Protect! Must protect, wrap up in bubble plastic and hide away from the world protect! It's a feeling Wes seems to call out in some people these days. I know Angel gets the same feeling. Wonder why he didn't have that in Sunnydale. Or maybe he did but they were so busy with themselves they never saw.

Whatever. Aside from the whole protecty thing? I'm still pissed at him! And so's Angel! Even though he's totally doing a mild version of anger considering I've see him, you know, really angry. What with the whole Angelusy thing. Not that he should go all Angelus on Wes, god no! But, you know, a little more of the pissy-- Oh who am I kidding. I'd jump in to protect Wes if Angel were to. Just like Angel is itching to do now that I'm cussing out Wes.

Ice-chips deal taking care off, I sit back down on my dingy plastic uncomfortable seat and grab hold of his hand laying there so limply on the bed. Angel has another go, demanding the same answers I want, even though I guess we both kinda know what's what we wanna know the why. Why did he do that?! Why did he risk his life to--

-- Oh. "Oh..." I breathe, guiltily looking from Angel and then quickly down at Wesley again. He knew? Damnit! They weren't supposed to know! How did he know? How did Wes know about the- "Dennis," I growl under my breath. He must've shown Wes the files! That rotten little ghost is so going to get his ass exorcised when we get back!

My hand flies to my mouth as his words sink in and I can feel my mouth hanging wide open. For me. He did it for me. And for Angel so he could keep his visions to guide him and-- Still keep us? Or Wes since Angel seems to think I'm not allowed to love him whatever blah blah.

"But you could have died!" I can't help but - kinda hypocritally - point out. "Do you think Angel wants you dead?" too, "I know I don't. Don't you ever, ever, *ever*," I scold, punctuating my words with a slap to his arm, "do that again! We could have... We could have *lost* you?! And then what?!" The fuck? He did this for me. For *me*? I don't... Fuck...
Keep Me: ang stare/stoic_keep_me on December 13th, 2009 05:13 pm (UTC)
"Yeah!" I agree with her immediately, "I may want Cordy alive, but I want you alive too!" I add, squeezing his hand hoping like hell that he damn well *understands* what we're saying. "You are not expendable---"

Wait- Wait, hold up a minute here. "Wait. ...Why is Cordelia not going to be alive?" I say slowly, glancing back and forth between the two of them. "What's going on here?" Yeah, I knew that Doyle had those visions for a reason and he handled them a lot better than Cordy, but--

"What did you do, Wes?" I ask, sinking down into my seat and feeling like the floor might be about to drop out from under me. She was gonna die from those visions? I knew she was having a hard time, but...

Why didn't he tell me?! Why didn't she tell me!? Okay now I'm not only feeling guilty and worried, I'm fucking pissed!

This isn't how this works! They don't get to sacrifice themselves for me! It doesn't happen. Not like that. I'm the one with sins to atone for, I'm the one with the evil inside me. I'm the one who's supposed to be helping people not making them suffer. Yes, fine, they want to help out, save the world-- but they don't get to do it for me. If they're going to do it, they can do it for themselves, to help others, but not because of me. They don't get to put themselves in harm's way to help *me*.

"Undo it," I say with an empty voice. "If you can take them from Cordy then you can give them all to me. This isn't how this works. You both don't get to fall on your swords for me. I'm the one who's supposed to make the sacrifices, not you. We don't fight the good fight for you two to make sacrifices for *me*," I say dully, taking my hand out of Wesley's. I have to go.

This is *not* why we fight.

Doyle sacrificed himself for me because I couldn't stop him. This isn't happening again. I have to go, I think, not looking at either of them when I get up from my chair.
Cordelia Chase: Shut up!queen_cordette on December 13th, 2009 07:05 pm (UTC)
The fuck? What the *fuck?!* "What?" I say, if anger were sparks they'd so be flying from my eyes by now. "Undo it? This isn't how it works? Me, me, me?" I get up from my seat, letting go of Wesley's hands and using it to point a finger at Angel. "Do you even fucking *hear* yourself, Angel? It's all about you again and then you have something to say about *me?!*"

He's pissed? He's pissed?! *I'm* pissed! I'm pissed at Wesley, obviously. But now I'm pissed at Angel too. Just cause he's the big fucking hero who thinks he has oh so many damn sins to atone for he can tell *us* what to do and how things go? Yeah, I don't fucking well think so! This is my life, I make my own choices and my own decisions. Not Angel, not Wesley. They took that away from me, they both took that away from me.

"This is *my* life, Angel," I tell him cause yelling at Wes is all sort of pointless right now. And hey, I know that look and I know that posture Angel has right now. It's the 'I'm about to run away and leave you all with the shit again' look. Well, buster, not this time! Not this time. This time I'm gonna let my selfish side out cause this is about *me*. Those visions were *mine*.

"You don't get to decide about our lives, Angel. That's our choice, do you hear me?" I ask, poking him in the check, "*ours*, not yours. Those damn visions were the only reason I had to feel good about myself. I kept them cause they were the only thing that would make you love me!" I say, feeling tears well up in my eyes and fuck no, I'm so not giving them that satisfaction.

"You think you're the only one who has to make up for past wrongs, for mistakes they made, for terrible choices made? You're seriously not all that original fucktard!" I assure Angel. I feel... I feel empty. Those visions were my only reason to be with Angel and Wes took it away. If I didn't know Wes I'd almost say he wanted to take out the competition! Maybe he did, I don't now, I don't know anymore.

"I hate you both!" I yell. Shit, they got me to yell at them. Great. Just fucking great. "It's my life, its-- those were *my* visions," I whisper. A hand presses against my mouth as I look at them both and then run out the room.
Wesley Wyndam-Pryce: Wes embarrassedwatcher_pryce on December 13th, 2009 07:06 pm (UTC)
"I divided them," I start, "So that we can both--" And that's about as far as I get before I realise Angel's not happy with what I've done. That-- I don't understand that. And hearing him say that this isn't how it works and then tell us what to do makes me frown. I know I can be a doormat at times but this isn't one of those times. I'm just about to tell him that, yes this is how it is going to work and it's not *his* choice to make, when Cordelia beats me to the punch.

Hard. She has quite a mean right and left hook when she's angry. Not literally, though there are moments during her not so little rant that I'm almost certain she's about to hit Angel. Her words stun me, making me narrow my eyes at Angel and wonder what the hell happened just before they got here. They were supposed to work things out! Not grow further apart! What's happened between those two?

"No, no Cordelia that's not true," I try, "You're more then your visions. That's why I did this. You are not just your visions, Angel doesn't just love you because of the visions," I try desperately, looking over at Angel for help. Before he can jump in though, Cordelia has already stomped out of the room. Crying. She was crying.

This is not going as planned. I knew they'd be angry but this? I hadn't expected this. "Cordelia, you have to... Angel," I mutter, pulling on the IV needles going into my hand and arm to get them out so I can do after Cordelia. "You're not our father, Angel. You don't get to decide over our lives. You have to do something, you have to damnit!" Frustrated I pull on one of the ports hard enough to make it come out and my hand bleed. "Bloody buggering hell!"
Keep Me: ang alley_keep_me on December 13th, 2009 08:00 pm (UTC)
She's on me before I can get to the door and all I can do is blink. I've never seen such rage and hurt on Cordy's face. I can't even get a word in edgewise between her ranting and Wes trying to reassure. They just don't get it. And I'm sure they never will.

I can't even get anything to come out though when she literally yells in my face that she hates us both. Over these stupid fucking visions that the Powers That Be had to toss in the mix just to screw with us.

And she's gone- and there's blood? It's all coming at me, the anger, the guilt, regret and that scent of blood has me vamping out before I can stop myself and there's this growl of pure rage, loss, and anger at myself that escapes my throat and I'm punching a hole in the wall before I can stop myself. I want to keep punching the wall but the beeping of the machines has me looking at Wes through yellow eyes, the scent of blood finally identified and I'm back by his bed, shaking drywall and paint off my hand.

I plunge the needle back into his hand all a little too skillfully and press some gauze to it. I don't know what to say or what to tell either of them. "See what I do?" I mutter, pushing him back into bed. "I'll find her, Wes," tell him, still pressing that gauze to his hand. There's a part of me that just wants to kill them both right now and glut myself on their blood. I can't help it. It's there right at the surface now and I just want to end this, stop hurting them...

But thankfully that's only a small part of me and not all that I am. Something I've gotten to realize a little more over the years because of them. "I'll fix it," I tell him before disappearing into the hallway after Cordelia in a fluttering rustle of black.
Wesley Wyndam-Pryce: Wes surprise S2watcher_pryce on December 14th, 2009 06:28 pm (UTC)
If I was stunned at Cordelia's behaviour? I'm shocked at Angel's. I stare at him with wide eyed and not without a little fear there for a brief moment. "Angel," I try, wondering where I had gone so very wrong. All I wanted was to safe Cordy and still let Angel keep the visions. This is the only way sometimes we can show our love to Angel, because lets face it, he can be extremely thick headed at times.

When he whirls around, all fury and yellow eyed, I shrink back in my bed. It's a reflex reaction of the old because I know Angel would never hurt me. Ever. "No, Angel," I say as he pushes me back into the bed, "I don't see, what did you think you did?" He spoke out of anger and fear. It may not be the right thing to say at the moment but I know he didn't mean it that way. And once Cordelia has calmed down she will know this as well.

I wince when pushes the port back in my hand and then takes care of it as if he's done this a thousand times before. Which he most likely has I realise. It's hard to think when the world is still spinning around you somewhat and the medication they've given you makes the world look and feel as if it's wrapped up in cotton wool balls. Which is probably the reason why I'm just a bit to late to stop Angel from stomping out after Cordelia.

This is going all wrong, I realise as I pull the port out again. Wiping away the blood with the gauze Angel taped on it,I slip out of bed. The floor is ice-cold on my feet but gives me just the bit of a shock I need to get back to reality. I sway a bit on my feet as I stumble over to the door. I have to stop him, talking to Cordelia now will only make things worse for us.

"Angel," I pant, wrenching open the door and stumbling after him as I hold onto the wall. "Angel!" I call after the familiar swishing coat as it all but vanishes around the corner. "Angel no," is whispered. Its' then I realise people are staring at me and-- giggling?
Keep Me: ang sad_keep_me on December 19th, 2009 02:34 pm (UTC)
I don't know which way she went, I don't have a clue where she's going. All I know is that Wes wants me to fix this and I don't want Cordy going around thinking that she's some kind of...vessel for carrying visions. That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard her say.

Her smell is pretty faint in the antiseptic corridors of this...semi-hospital. Mostly I'm just walking on instinct... For all I know, she's gone out in the middle of the beach so that I won't be able to follow her. My skin still feels tight from racing outside to get Wes. Thankfully neither of them looked too closely at my now papery hands. They'll heal soon enough, it's just another annoyance as I try to move quickly-

Until I hear a small voice calling my name. What is he doing out of bed?! He shouldn't be up! I told him I'd take care of this. I turn back and look around the corner to find a forlorn looking Wesley, bare-legged, gown hanging loosely like a sheet and that expression on his face is just so lost.

But if I go back to him, Cordy will think I'm favoring Wes again. She'll be more angry. She must want someone to go after her with the way she stormed out... Right?

I look at Wes from down the hall and feel just as lost as he looks. All the anger is drained away and I just want to make them happy again. I want to be a family again. And I'm screwing it all up.

Leaning my head against the wall, I feel like hiding. Not exactly my image I try to uphold, but it's what I'm feeling. Want to push them all away, get the visions for myself and just go hide in the sewers where I'll never bother anyone again.

That side that wants the family though, it keeps kicking me and-- that part of me wants to go crawl in bed with Wesley and wait until Cordelia comes back. Or find her and pull us all in bed together - with nobody allowed to talk - and we can just be together. But none of those things are going to happen today.

Finally, I get my feet back under me to go back down the hallway to where Wes is standing, barefoot and looking pretty weak. "You should get back to bed," I murmur, opening the door to his room. "Why'd you get out?"
Wesley Wyndam-Pryce: Wes surprise S2watcher_pryce on December 22nd, 2009 09:07 pm (UTC)
It takes me a while to figure out why people are giggling and not trying to point at me. It's the damn hospital gown! Its open in the back I realise. Proves to show they have pumped too much bloody medication into my system for me not to notice! See? There is a perfectly good damn reason I refuse - and rightly so - those medications all the time. Especially the pain medications.

Blushing a bright red I quickly reach behind me to pull the edges of the gown together. But there really isn't much cloth to pull together and cover my arse, which I hope to god is wearing underwear. Even if it's those dreadful paper briefs, it's always better then nothing. But despite the fact that I've turned beet red I realise there are bigger problems then my possible bare arse. One of them being Cordelia who without a doubt needs some time alone. The other is Angel whom I'm trying to catch up to.

I'm quite certainly I would have made it if I weren't feeling so out of sort. As is the case I'm finding myself strangely out of breath before I even reach the damn corner. And I still haven't managed to stop Angel. Feeling lost and like an utter failure - even more so because my plan backfired in a way I never had anticipated - I lean defeated against the wall and stare at the floor.

Cordelia is off on her own. Angel will be off brooding somewhere. And I messed up what we had spectacularly just because I tried to do right by us all. It has to be a bloody talent, one I really could have done without, I think to myself. So it's not surprising, feeling burned up (literally almost), that I'm ready to give up. That's when I hear Angel's voice above me, startling me so much that I literally jump.

"Angel!" I squeak, looking up at him with open mouth. Why'd I get out? Why does he think I got out! "My lovers walk away from me because I messed up our lives spectacularly and I should just lay there and do nothing?" I ask incredulously, though with a whisper so no one overhears us.
Keep Me: ang sad_keep_me on January 9th, 2010 08:11 pm (UTC)
Wes is really cute when he squeaks. I know, not really the time for that kind of thought, but it's the first one that pops into my head when I see Wes. Who is very surprised to see me even though he was the one calling after me...

"But I said I'd take care of it. And you're injured," I add, suddenly noticing the people hiding smiles down the corridor behind Wes. What are they so amused about?? He's injured! Practically burnt to a crisp, nobody should be making any kind of fun of him! I throw them all a scowl and growl a little under my breath without realizing it.

"You should get back to bed. I should go after Cordy, right? I mean, girls storm out and they usually want someone to chase after them, don't they?" I ramble...because I really don't know what the hell to do. I've screwed everything up and Cordy's going to hate me for life.

Yes, I'm still kinda pissed about Wes taking the visions...but I do at least sort of get the reason why, even if I don't like it. Well except for the keeping Cordy from dying. "We should get you back to bed," I repeat again, waving him back towards the room. "You- do you think she hates me? Or us?" I ask...really not knowing the answer. And what if Wes is pissed at us? Shit, I didn't even really think about that. I did go all vampy alpha crap on him as Cordy would say. I wave again towards the room. He's going to pass out or something if we don't get him back. Must be in pain, right?
Wesley Wyndam-Pryce: Wes sulk s2watcher_pryce on January 10th, 2010 08:01 pm (UTC)
People keep snickering as I desperately try to keep the back of that damn gown pulled together. It doesn't seem to be working much and having Angel suddenly there *hovering* isn't helping much. It only makes people try to hid their grins even more as I stand there fidgeting while trying to have a conversation with Angel at the same time. Not that it's much of a conversation with Angel, in fact it seems to be rather one sided.

One certain way to tell Angel is in over his head? He keeps blathering on, not allowing you to get a word in edgewise while trying to take over all control. In this case that means ushering me back into the room. This is one of those cases where I don't mind so much that he's doing that. The sooner my flimsy gown and I are in my room the better. It also means Angel isn't running after Cordelia.

I mean... Honestly, they call *me* horrible with women and socially inept. Angel, who's had centuries to prefect it, is even worse. We already knew about the social ineptitude. But I had thought he was quite good with women, they seem to flock toward him. Watching him deal with Cordelia, however, made me change my mind. Or maybe it's-- Cordelia. I don't know.

"I'm fine, Angel," I try to assure him as I pad back into the room. Bare feet slap on the cold tiles, making me shiver a bit. It's strange having some body parts cold while others are burning. Oh well... "You shouldn't go after Cordelia, she no doubt wants to be alone right-- what?" Hate *us*? Oh I'm certain she hates me, she's made that clear.

"Angel," I say, gritting my teeth as I stumble my way back to the bed. I reach out for Angel automatically, not even thinking about it really. "Why in the bloody hell would Cordelia hate *you*? She hates me, obviously, but at least she wont- she'll be fine now." She wont die. She wont have to bear this burden alone anymore.

"But you two were suppose to talk and-and make things up. What happened?" I'm so confused. Why would Cordelia hate Angel? "Is it because of what she yelled? Because that's just something she said in anger..." I mutter, getting quite out of breath. Huh. And yes, I know I'm contradicting myself. Its these medications! They make my brain all fogged up!

"Is the door closed?" I ask, looking over my shoulder, "can I let go of that gap in my gown now? Am I even wearing underwear?!"
Keep Me: ang losing sleep_keep_me on February 7th, 2010 05:11 pm (UTC)
I roll my eyes behind Wes' back as I usher him back into his room, closing the door behind us. Must be the only human on the planet who can utter 'I'm fine,' while having severe burns on a good chunk of his body. He was practically passed out!

But at least he's getting back to bed. We both seem to reach for each other at the same time when he stumbles. It gives me a strange warm feeling in my stomach and one full of guilt and the feeling that I don't deserve either of them. I know, I said that I was over it- That I could love them-- But it still just doesn't seem right. I'm not supposed to have a soul so that I can have one big happy family, right? ...Or maybe those gypsies were just stupid. Maybe they didn't think I'd be lovable ever again or that people might actually *love* a monster. Or they probably just didn't think I'd live long enough to work through any of those issues. Yeah, that's probably more like it.

"You heard what she said," I add, helping Wes into bed, not really ready to let the cat out of the bag that Cordelia and I didn't so much talk things out as make things worse. "I'm- I'm glad she'll be okay--" But still not so over the part where Wes is taking on visions too so that I have to worry about them both dying-- Well, worry even more. Who knows maybe humans aren't supposed to handle the visions at all. Maybe they're supposed to die because of them so that the PtB can hurt me. I don't know. There's not a lot that makes sense here.

And here we go. "Yeah, door's closed, and no, not so much in the underwear department," I murmur with a small smile, glossing over the talk Cordelia and I were supposed to have.

"I, uhh, well, about that talk..." I don't even have to try to hide it, I'm sure the guilt is written all over my face. I rub the back of my head and turn my attention to the monitors at his bed. Not that I know much of anything about what they say...especially when they're not saying anything since Wes isn't hooked up to that IV thing any more. "Let me help get that thing back in your arm," I say instead, looking for something to do since he doesn't think I should go after Cordy.
Wesley Wyndam-Pryce: Wes s1 looking down blue shirtwatcher_pryce on February 12th, 2010 09:25 am (UTC)
"Yes, I heard what she said," I mutter as I climb back into the bed. "I also know she didn't mean a word of it, Angel," I add, as I lay down between the far to white and stiff sheets. "You're a hundred plus quite a lot of years old, Angel. You're not as dense as you like people to believe," I tell him softly, "you *know* she didn't mean that."

Oh I know he has this thing where he likes people to think he's a quite a lot less clever then he actually is. Pretends not to understand certain things, or get some sayings. He's lived for so long and even if he were hiding in the sewers for quite some time, I know he was up here for some of those. After all, one doesn't brag about famous people without having actually seen or known them right?

I don't know why he does it, other then trying to keep people away from the big bad monster that he seems to insist he is. Well, that distance is gone now. He has us and he has to start seeing that he can't push us away. He can't keep doing that. I for one won’t give up on him and I know Cordelia wouldn't either. The one Cordelia is angry with is I and I know there will be a very hard talk about that in the future.

For now I have Angel to deal with. "She'll be fine," I assure him, "and I'll be fine too. The visions, they..." won’t kill her now. They won’t kill either of us. What it will be like we'll find out the hard way no doubt. "... will be easier to bear." They'll still be there for us. Right now I have more important matters to care about. And did he just say I'm *not* wearing any underwear?

A squeak gets out at that news and I quickly pull the covers up as if that would make any difference. By now you also can't see where my sunburned skin is and where not I'm so red with embarrassment. Oh god, no wonder those people were laughing. "They were able to my bare arse before I closed the gap," I mutter appalled.

That doesn't mean I don't notice Angel saying much about this talk he was to have with Cordelia. The one that I left them alone for so that they could fix things. My hand comes up to cover the spot where the damn IV would go in.

"I don't need that, Angel," I tell him, giving him a nervous look. What happened? Didn't they fix things? "I need you to tell me about the talk you and Cordelia had. The-- you two fixed things yes?" I ask hopefully.
Keep Me: ang curious_keep_me on February 13th, 2010 07:47 am (UTC)
"I don't know..." I mumble, scratching the back of my head. After the 'talk' this morning, I wouldn't be surprised if she really did hate both of us. I know, maybe it's only momentary and she'll forgive us both in the future, but it doesn't seem all that likely at the moment. I would certainly be pissed at someone constantly pushing me away...

"Are you sure?" I ask him, my face frowning. What if they both got worse? "You don't think it's likely to...kill both of you now?" I ask, trying not to look as worried as I sound and doing my best to look busy fussing with the blankets and tucking Wes in. "You, umm, have to promise me something though...if it *is* going to kill either of you, you'll tell me this time. We'll work on something together. No hiding." I say, giving him a stern look.

A momentary flash of smile crosses my face when Wes squeaks about the lack of underwear. He's cute when he squeaks. "Least it's a nice arse," I murmur, flashing him that tiny smile.

"Yeah, you do." I say, moving his hand away easily and sliding the line back into his arm smoothly. Yeah, veins are easy to find when you're a vampire. "Nutrients and stuff," I nod, totally talking out of my ass. I don't know what's in there, but if the doctors put it in then he needs it. Not like he's going to heal overnight like I would. Or will, considering my skin is still a little crispy feeling in some spots.

"Err, fixed isn't the word I'd use..." I trail off, looking at a very nice spot on the very clean walls. "More like completely screwed up," I mumble, shoving my hands in my pockets and sitting down in the guest chair next to Wes' bedside before give Wes a cringing look.
Wesley Wyndam-Pryce: Wes glasses looking down S2watcher_pryce on February 16th, 2010 09:28 am (UTC)
"Yes, love," it seems I'm staring a lot of my sentences with yes these days. Huh. "I am certain. I've researched it long enough," I say, keeping my eyes cast on the covers my fingers are plucking at. "And when this case came up I-- errr... realized I had a chance to help both you and Cordelia. She still has the visions, she needn't worry about that. We both have them now. They're not going to kill either of us." At least not anymore. They'll still hurt, but far less then they hurt Cordelia thus far as well.

Just when I look up I notice the stern look Angel is giving me. I swallow hard and give him a weak smile. "It's all going to work out, Angel," I assure him. Yes, he has every doubt to question my and Cordelia telling him things. But we have our reasons as well. We don't want to burden our champion who already has so much to worry about. Not when it is something we can solve ourselves or-- something he can't do anything about at any rate.

The arse remark gets him a scowl. "Yes, well, I doubt that. At any rate, it's not theirs to look at. Only you and Cordelia are allowed," I assure him with a small sulk. I cannot *believe* I went out there without any bloody underwear. Hell, I must've been out of it. Still do feel more then a bit dazed to be honest. But I'm not going to broadcast that around.

Not when there still seems to be the problem of Angel and Cordelia. When there shouldn't be one! They were going to talk about it! And why does Angel not listen when I tell him I don't-- With a sigh I let him put the blasted IV back in while I ponder what he's *not* telling me. The way he's avoiding looking at me is a certain clue things didn't go as planned.

"Scre--" I pause, blinking owlishly at him before trying to run that past my overworked brain a few times. How could he have screwed up? Should I say 'this time?' And I'm sure Cordelia carries part of the 'screw up'. I can't help but close my eyes and let out a long, deep, suffering sigh.

"And how completely did you screw up, Angel? What happened?"
Keep Me: ang sad_keep_me on February 28th, 2010 08:25 pm (UTC)
"Promise," I repeat again, noting that 'it's all going to work out' isn't a promise at all. "We can't keep secrets from each other," I say, still giving him a long look. I'm not over being mad about this yet, but there's no reason to growl about it now, since it seems it's done and over with. But yeah, he's going to promise me that he's not going to keep any more of this vision crap a secret. Or I really will find a way to get it out of both of their heads.

"Not really for you to say, is it," I murmur, knowing all the while that he won't listen. Wes knows what Wes knows about himself and he doesn't let anyone tell him otherwise. Even if he's wrong. "Well, that's true," I admit. Definitely not really something I want to share. Don't really share well as it is.

Apparently I don't patch things up well either. I sigh and pick at the minimal amount of fabric on the visitors chair now that there's really nothing else to fuss about where Wes is concerned since he's all tucked in and got that tube back in his arm.

"I don't know...I might've said some things..." I look anywhere but at Wes because I know he's going to be- well, maybe not pissed, but really disappointed. He was really counting on us to work this out. "It was stupid," I mumble. "Might've told her that she shouldn't love me," I mutter so quietly. Maybe Wes won't have heard. He knows I have trouble letting people in! They both do!

They're- They're just going to have to give me some time. Or something. More likely a big kick in the pants if Cordelia has anything to say about it. I get up again and pour Wes some water and tuck in his blankets and sheets for, oh, the fortieth time. And okay, I need to pace a little.

This is never going to work.
Wesley Wyndam-Pryce: Wes sickwatcher_pryce on March 2nd, 2010 11:06 am (UTC)
"Yes!" I tell him somewhat frustrated, giving him a look to add. Seriously. I'm not feeling all to well at all, I've just strolled after the git in my bare arse on the hallway and he's still pressing about something I've already assured him about. What more does he want me to do? Give him and Cordelia a written statement?

I'm getting tired. I'm getting tired of being the referee between those two, just to have them mess things up. Its so obvious to even a blind man that they love each other. Cordelia would do anything for Angel and Angel would do anything for her. What is the bloody problem? Why can't they seem to get along without some sort of fight? What am I missing here? Perhaps it's me. Perhaps I should leave and leave them alone, go home so they can work this out without any distraction.

Because that's how I often feel when I'm with them. A distraction to keep them busy.

I skip past the entire 'arse' thing because that honestly was embarrassing enough. Good thing Cordelia wasn't here to witness that, she'd have never let me forget it. The little wench. Besides, I can only deal with one Alpha at once and Angel is quite the handful. He radiates misery and despair and looks as though he's given up. Which really, make me sort of desperate enough to want to cry.

When he finally comes out with what he's said, I can't help but let out a deep sigh and close my eyes. My hand comes up to pinch the bridge of my nose in an attempt to get rid of the headache that's about to grow as well there. But alas, it's not really helping. Those two are going to be the death of me.

"I can only imagine her reaction to that," I mutter, not even bothering to try and filter out the misery *I* feel. Too tired. "I've been talking to a wall the last few days, weeks, haven't I? You've not heard a word I said, Angel." I don't understand. I opened up, painfully, I let them in. I let *him* in. Why can he not do the same?

"So, tell me Angel, should I not love you too? Or is it just Cordelia's love you suddenly have problems with? You see, Angel, I'm having rather a hard time understanding why you would even say that to her. When she tries so hard for you," I say, peering at him from under my eyelashes.

"And if you dare walk out of here then I assure you... you wont have to bother coming back." I know that look, I know that pace. He's ready to flee the scene. If he does? I'm done. I give up. I can't do this anymore if they keep this up. "Why do you keep pushing us away, Angel? And don't give me the guilt bollocks, how we shouldn't, how we don't deserve you. Because that? Is *not* your choice to make."
Keep Me: ang please_keep_me on April 26th, 2010 09:55 pm (UTC)
I ignore it when he asks me about himself. I've already said too many stupid things about that to Cordelia. Wes would never forgive me if he'd heard any of that, no doubt.

I sigh instead and keep pacing so I can avoid looking at the pain in Wes' eyes. His voice is crispy enough. And sad. A deep down sad that I know means he's scared this isn't going to work and he's going to be alone again. He's let so much go and opened up so much the past few weeks and months... Even just in the past few days, we've learned more about what makes Wes tick than...probably anybody, even Wes himself. Cordy too, I know she's been trying so hard to make this work - the cinnamon in my blood even, making room in the bathroom for mine and Wes' things - actions that might not seem like much but for Cordelia are a big, giant leap.

Stuff that I'm walking all over like so much Play-Doh. Smushing it.

Wes isn't letting up though. "Not walking out," I mutter. As if I'd walk out while he was half dead. Not giving me much credit. But I haven't really given him all that much reason to give me any credit.

"It's not like I want to!" I say, still pacing to keep Wes- I don't know, to hide, I guess. "You know how long I've had a soul and you know how bad I am at being 'up with people'," I say, slightly exasperated. I don't know what to do or how to do this! "Staying out of people's way and making sure they don't get close... It's a hard habit to break," I murmur. And then after Buffy well...they're lucky Doyle came along otherwise I would have stayed a happy shadow of the night all on my own - until I broke and started drinking from people again. He's the one that reminded me that I need to be around people, that I need to care about them so that I don't become just another monster, but... It's not a habit I'm letting go of easily. "It's just instinct...I can't keep people safe when they're pressed right up to my fangs," I mumble. "I'm responsible then. Maybe you can trust me, and it's your choice to be there, but it's-- really damn hard to be the last thing keeping you both from danger *and* safety," I say quietly. "I can't always trust me. I'm not talking about Angelus, I'm talking about Angel. There's still a beast in me and it still wants blood, it still wants to do what it does naturally." Kill. "That last choice, it's mine, not yours... No matter how much you say it's your choice to be with me."

I finally sit down again and look at him, biting my lip. There, I said it. Sometimes I'm afraid of myself. I know what I can do and I know what can happen, no Angelus needed. "You guys will just have to be patient with me... I do, I want to let you in, let you close..." I trail off, slipping my hand into Wes' and looking him in the eye.
Wesley Wyndam-Pryce: Wes sickwatcher_pryce on May 5th, 2010 10:25 pm (UTC)
Lips press into a thin line as my eyes narrow at him. Ignoring my question make me feel ignored in general. Considering how often I have been ignored all my life this should be something that I'm used to. But not when it comes to Angel and Cordelia. Especially not Angel, since Cordy sometimes deliberately ignores me. Not when it's important though, not with the question I've just asked. It makes me feel as though he thinks the answers is 'yes, Wesley, you shouldn't love me either'. Which makes me feel even more rejected.

I'm getting so tired of this. I hurt all over, I'm worried about Cordelia out there on her own, and now I have Angel in here to console. But apparently telling him the same thing over and over again only gets the same response in return. 'I'm not worthy, I'm not used to it, I need time'.

Getting sick of it. Its like hearing myself. No wonder people get sick of me. No wonder they'll get sick of me too eventually. Enough!

Did Angel just raise his voice at me? For a moment I shrink back into the back, trying to vanish between the sheets. But then anger boils up in me and I can feel my teeth grinding. If it was possible to have actual steam coming out of your ears, this would be the time for that to happen to me.

"Oh bloody hell, Angel, get over it," I growl at him, making certain to not raise my voice at him. Instead I lower it to a soft, calming tone that usually ensures that they'll shut up and listen. "Do you think that you're the only one who has trouble with that? Do you? Because if you do I'm going to owe Cordelia an apology for sticking up for you, all those times she said you were a dumbarse. Because if you really think that, you are a dumbarse."

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I try to will away the pounding headache that's starting to build tighter and tighter. "Why do you think Cordelia was such a bitch? Hurt people before they can hurt you. And she's trying so hard with us to not do that, but you're not bloody well making it easier. Lets not even start about me shall we?" I know my own faults better then anyone. Make sure no on notices you and you wont get hurt. Pretend you're in control and confident, and they wont mess with you. Too bad I'm so horrid at 'pretending'.

"You think you're the only one who has deep, dark, deadly secrets? You think you're..." I trail off when I realise that this'll probably be attempted number 'I lost count' of trying to tell him this. "You know what, fine. Be that way. I-- I'm tired. I'm so tired of trying to reassure you and Cordelia and trying to get you both to get along. Trying to make you both see your love for each other instead of constantly fighting. I'm tired of being the third wheel who's only there to referee you both."

A sigh gets out that seems to come from my toes as his hand slips inside mine. I hold on tight as if I'm afraid he is going to leave me. Which he still might do with his fleeing mechanism after my next words.

"Then let us close, Angel. Cordy and I both have been giving and giving for you, to you. Which was *our* choice, so don't start that. But... All you seem to do is take. It's time you gave a little too, my love. Please."