Disclaimer: Okay now for the short short version. Not mine, Joss's. The End.
Sins of the Father
By
Rogue Amazon Boo
He was brooding and she was mad. That was a far as Fred had gotten in her thought process before she had to stop and examine this new feeling. Mad; she was mad, pissed, angry, irate, irritated, upset, annoyed. She had forgotten what it felt like to be annoyed. In Pylea she was just scared, scared all the time and besides it is hard to be mad at someone when there is no one around to be mad at. She looked through the window into the office of the person who was the center of her anger. Wesley didn't seem to notice, of course he hadn't really been noticing anything since their last disastrous case involving Billy the woman hating demon and one of the ax's in the weapons case. Now because of what had happened, Angel Investigations now had Dark and Broody and Broody lite, as Cordy had put it. With a determined look on her elfin features Fred started towards Wesley's office. She had decided with her wholly new feelings of anger to put a stop to Broody lite once and for all.
Wesley didn't turn even though he felt her presence the moment she walked in the door. It was strange how trying to avoid her had only led to a more heightened awareness of her. He could smell the clean scent of her hair and hear the swish her light floral print dress made as she approached him. He still didn't turn. He hoped that she would get the hint and leave him alone. It was a vain hope.
He didn't say anything as she approached him, which was just fine by her. She had enough to say for the both of them. Unfortunately she wanted to be looking into his eyes when she said it, not staring at the back of his head. That was when she got an idea. It was a game she use to play with her father when she was a kid and she wanted him to pay attention to her instead of the golf game. At any rate what she was about to do would at least force Wesley into close contact with her. Something he had been avoiding since his whole demon possessed shades of The Shining, psychotic episode. With her anger fueling her courage Winifred went up to the former watcher and straddled him like a pony. His reaction was just what she expected.
"Fred! What in the bloody hell are you doing," he said and shifted away from her. He was careful not to dislodge her though because he didn't want her to hurt herself by falling onto the floor. The position left her sitting on his legs with her knees on either side of him. His arms also instinctively came up to clutch her elbows when he felt her beginning to fall, but the moment he righted her he jerked his hands away as if he had been burned.
"Stop it," she drawled softly and Wes just shot her a surprised look.
"Stop what?" he asked perplexed. She just smiled at him and gently removed his glasses from his face.
"Stop running away from me," she answered simply. There was forgiveness in her soft brown eyes and he had to turn away from it. He didn't deserve her forgiveness, not now, not ever.
"I'm not running away from you or anyone. Now please get off my lap," he snapped. Before I do something I'll regret later he added to himself. He hadn't had her this close to him since he had digressed to his primordial ax murderer state and he had forgotten just what she could do to him.
"Did you know that I'm mad at you Wesley," she said thoughtfully and then continued before he could say anything. "I don't think I have been mad in five years. 'Course that isn't really surprising when you consider that it is hard to be mad when there are no people around, obviously because emotion is triggered by human social interaction and without that to stimulate the natural adrenaline response then a person could go their whole life without every being mad at anyone. But I guess that really isn't the point is it? The point is that I'm mad at you. Do you want to know why?" she asked. The look on his face told her plainly that he didn't because he thought he already knew. For someone so smart he could be pretty dense.
"I'm mad at you because you are running away, and don't try to tell me you're not. I am an expert at running away from everything and everyone. Let me be the first to tell you that it doesn't work," she said and lifted her hand to caress his cheek, he jerked away. "Especially if you are running away from yourself," she added.
Wesley's eyes snapped up at that. Was it that obvious? He hadn't thought so; at least no one else had said anything to indicate that they had known. The demon curse he had endured that night had left him with an open gaping wound in his soul because it had confirmed his worse nightmare. It had confirmed that he was just like his father. With a small cry Wes closed his eyes and tried once again to block out the image there. The one that kept playing in his head like a bad rerun. All he could see when he closed his eyes anymore was the image of himself striking Fred superimposed over the image of his father striking him. This time when Fred caressed his face with her hands he didn't jerk away. He just looked at her with tortured eyes.
Fred saw the anguish in her friend's gaze and felt her anger melt away. He was still blaming himself for what had happened with Billy. Why couldn't he see that he was nothing like that monster?
"You're a good man Wesley," she said and smiled. "A very kind, gentle, noble and brave good man." He shook his head in denial.
"No Fred, no I'm not. I'm a monster. The worst kind of monster...a monster with a soul," he whispered.
"No you're not," she challenged, as she curled up closer to him and laid her head close to his heart. Instinctively his arms went around her. "A monster would not hold me close and keep me safe when the bad things come for me." He sighed. He had to convince her. It was the only way to really protect her. So he told her something that he had never told anyone else.
"Fred, you don't understand, my father...he was...is a monster," he choked out.
She just lightly shrugged her small shoulders in his embrace.
"Which makes you an even better man," she countered.
"I am my father's son," he replied.
"No, you are the brave man you have shaped yourself to be," she disagreed
"And he walked in the sins of his father, which he had done before him," he tossed back.
"The son shall not bear the guilt of the father, nor the father bear the guilt of the son. The righteousness of the righteous shall be upon himself, and the wickedness of the wicked shall be upon himself," she parried. Their little verbal sparring match caused him to grin; it was the fist time he had done so in days and it had a surprisingly sobering effect on him. She was doing everything in her power to make him feel better which made him start to wonder if maybe he had misjudge the source of her anger.
"Why are you really mad at me Fred?" he asked softly. He felt her silky hair slide across his skin as she lifted her head to look into his eyes.
"Because you went away from me and I was afraid you wouldn't come back and then I would be all alone again," she replied and he tightened his grip on her, feeling fierce protectiveness well up inside of him.
"I was only trying to protect you." He didn't have to add the,"from me" it was mirrored in his soul. Her eyes flashed.
"You all keep forgetting that I survived in a demon dimension for five years. So what if I did it by runn'in and hide'in? I still survived." She snapped. She really hated that sometimes. Hated that they underestimated her.
"You're right. I'm sorry," he apologized and then added, "This doesn't really change anything you know. I still carry my father inside of me. I could still hurt you." She lifted her head again and asked him very seriously.
"Do you want to hurt me Wesley?" she asked in the same why she had asked him if he had wanted to kill her when she had come to see him at his home a few days ago. This time though her slightly mocking tone got through to him.
"Of God, of course not," he said vehemently. What he wanted to do terrified him even more. He wanted to love her and be loved by her in return. Dangerous thoughts.
"Then I guess you are not the evil soulless creature that you have convinced yourself you are. You are a good man. What ever else your father is, he is not you. You are you. Well at least you are you here, whether or not you are you somewhere else or even if any of the other dimensional theories and alternate realities hold water is kind of a moot point, you are still who you are here," she babbled. Wesley felt a smile tugging at his lips again. He really had no earthly idea what she had just said but on the whole that didn't really matter. What mattered was that she had the power to make him smile. He held her in the growing silence. This remarkable young woman who could make even his father's looming shadow shrink away. As if she could read his mind she said again.
"You are not your father." He sighed again and Fred felt it rumble through her body. She reacted by snuggling deeper into his shirt.
Wes had to smile at that and for the first time in days he started to think that maybe he wasn't the creature he thought he was. How could he be if this exceptional young woman seemed to believe in him so? It was true...he wasn't his father. At least right here, right now, he could believe that, because she was in his arms...and she believed it.
Sins of the Father
By
Rogue Amazon Boo
He was brooding and she was mad. That was a far as Fred had gotten in her thought process before she had to stop and examine this new feeling. Mad; she was mad, pissed, angry, irate, irritated, upset, annoyed. She had forgotten what it felt like to be annoyed. In Pylea she was just scared, scared all the time and besides it is hard to be mad at someone when there is no one around to be mad at. She looked through the window into the office of the person who was the center of her anger. Wesley didn't seem to notice, of course he hadn't really been noticing anything since their last disastrous case involving Billy the woman hating demon and one of the ax's in the weapons case. Now because of what had happened, Angel Investigations now had Dark and Broody and Broody lite, as Cordy had put it. With a determined look on her elfin features Fred started towards Wesley's office. She had decided with her wholly new feelings of anger to put a stop to Broody lite once and for all.
Wesley didn't turn even though he felt her presence the moment she walked in the door. It was strange how trying to avoid her had only led to a more heightened awareness of her. He could smell the clean scent of her hair and hear the swish her light floral print dress made as she approached him. He still didn't turn. He hoped that she would get the hint and leave him alone. It was a vain hope.
He didn't say anything as she approached him, which was just fine by her. She had enough to say for the both of them. Unfortunately she wanted to be looking into his eyes when she said it, not staring at the back of his head. That was when she got an idea. It was a game she use to play with her father when she was a kid and she wanted him to pay attention to her instead of the golf game. At any rate what she was about to do would at least force Wesley into close contact with her. Something he had been avoiding since his whole demon possessed shades of The Shining, psychotic episode. With her anger fueling her courage Winifred went up to the former watcher and straddled him like a pony. His reaction was just what she expected.
"Fred! What in the bloody hell are you doing," he said and shifted away from her. He was careful not to dislodge her though because he didn't want her to hurt herself by falling onto the floor. The position left her sitting on his legs with her knees on either side of him. His arms also instinctively came up to clutch her elbows when he felt her beginning to fall, but the moment he righted her he jerked his hands away as if he had been burned.
"Stop it," she drawled softly and Wes just shot her a surprised look.
"Stop what?" he asked perplexed. She just smiled at him and gently removed his glasses from his face.
"Stop running away from me," she answered simply. There was forgiveness in her soft brown eyes and he had to turn away from it. He didn't deserve her forgiveness, not now, not ever.
"I'm not running away from you or anyone. Now please get off my lap," he snapped. Before I do something I'll regret later he added to himself. He hadn't had her this close to him since he had digressed to his primordial ax murderer state and he had forgotten just what she could do to him.
"Did you know that I'm mad at you Wesley," she said thoughtfully and then continued before he could say anything. "I don't think I have been mad in five years. 'Course that isn't really surprising when you consider that it is hard to be mad when there are no people around, obviously because emotion is triggered by human social interaction and without that to stimulate the natural adrenaline response then a person could go their whole life without every being mad at anyone. But I guess that really isn't the point is it? The point is that I'm mad at you. Do you want to know why?" she asked. The look on his face told her plainly that he didn't because he thought he already knew. For someone so smart he could be pretty dense.
"I'm mad at you because you are running away, and don't try to tell me you're not. I am an expert at running away from everything and everyone. Let me be the first to tell you that it doesn't work," she said and lifted her hand to caress his cheek, he jerked away. "Especially if you are running away from yourself," she added.
Wesley's eyes snapped up at that. Was it that obvious? He hadn't thought so; at least no one else had said anything to indicate that they had known. The demon curse he had endured that night had left him with an open gaping wound in his soul because it had confirmed his worse nightmare. It had confirmed that he was just like his father. With a small cry Wes closed his eyes and tried once again to block out the image there. The one that kept playing in his head like a bad rerun. All he could see when he closed his eyes anymore was the image of himself striking Fred superimposed over the image of his father striking him. This time when Fred caressed his face with her hands he didn't jerk away. He just looked at her with tortured eyes.
Fred saw the anguish in her friend's gaze and felt her anger melt away. He was still blaming himself for what had happened with Billy. Why couldn't he see that he was nothing like that monster?
"You're a good man Wesley," she said and smiled. "A very kind, gentle, noble and brave good man." He shook his head in denial.
"No Fred, no I'm not. I'm a monster. The worst kind of monster...a monster with a soul," he whispered.
"No you're not," she challenged, as she curled up closer to him and laid her head close to his heart. Instinctively his arms went around her. "A monster would not hold me close and keep me safe when the bad things come for me." He sighed. He had to convince her. It was the only way to really protect her. So he told her something that he had never told anyone else.
"Fred, you don't understand, my father...he was...is a monster," he choked out.
She just lightly shrugged her small shoulders in his embrace.
"Which makes you an even better man," she countered.
"I am my father's son," he replied.
"No, you are the brave man you have shaped yourself to be," she disagreed
"And he walked in the sins of his father, which he had done before him," he tossed back.
"The son shall not bear the guilt of the father, nor the father bear the guilt of the son. The righteousness of the righteous shall be upon himself, and the wickedness of the wicked shall be upon himself," she parried. Their little verbal sparring match caused him to grin; it was the fist time he had done so in days and it had a surprisingly sobering effect on him. She was doing everything in her power to make him feel better which made him start to wonder if maybe he had misjudge the source of her anger.
"Why are you really mad at me Fred?" he asked softly. He felt her silky hair slide across his skin as she lifted her head to look into his eyes.
"Because you went away from me and I was afraid you wouldn't come back and then I would be all alone again," she replied and he tightened his grip on her, feeling fierce protectiveness well up inside of him.
"I was only trying to protect you." He didn't have to add the,"from me" it was mirrored in his soul. Her eyes flashed.
"You all keep forgetting that I survived in a demon dimension for five years. So what if I did it by runn'in and hide'in? I still survived." She snapped. She really hated that sometimes. Hated that they underestimated her.
"You're right. I'm sorry," he apologized and then added, "This doesn't really change anything you know. I still carry my father inside of me. I could still hurt you." She lifted her head again and asked him very seriously.
"Do you want to hurt me Wesley?" she asked in the same why she had asked him if he had wanted to kill her when she had come to see him at his home a few days ago. This time though her slightly mocking tone got through to him.
"Of God, of course not," he said vehemently. What he wanted to do terrified him even more. He wanted to love her and be loved by her in return. Dangerous thoughts.
"Then I guess you are not the evil soulless creature that you have convinced yourself you are. You are a good man. What ever else your father is, he is not you. You are you. Well at least you are you here, whether or not you are you somewhere else or even if any of the other dimensional theories and alternate realities hold water is kind of a moot point, you are still who you are here," she babbled. Wesley felt a smile tugging at his lips again. He really had no earthly idea what she had just said but on the whole that didn't really matter. What mattered was that she had the power to make him smile. He held her in the growing silence. This remarkable young woman who could make even his father's looming shadow shrink away. As if she could read his mind she said again.
"You are not your father." He sighed again and Fred felt it rumble through her body. She reacted by snuggling deeper into his shirt.
Wes had to smile at that and for the first time in days he started to think that maybe he wasn't the creature he thought he was. How could he be if this exceptional young woman seemed to believe in him so? It was true...he wasn't his father. At least right here, right now, he could believe that, because she was in his arms...and she believed it.