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TITLE:
Times Change
Times Change Shaking, Wesley suddenly woke with a strange feeling of edginess. He was restless and tense. Something was wrong, very wrong. He couldn’t explain the feelings, just knew that something was dramatically wrong. He propped himself up on one arm, wondering if it was something with Winifred. He had gotten used to waking just before she fell into a nightmare. Yet, Fred slept deeply, curled on her side beside him in the middle of their bed. The feelings didn’t ease any; if anything they kept increasing, a greater and greater feeling of dread that something irrevocable was about to happen. Not wanting to wake Fred now that she had settled into a normal sleep pattern, or as normal as anyone in their line of work had, Wes slipped out of their bed and crossed the room to the window, staring out onto the strangely silent streets of Los Angeles. Los Angeles was never this quiet; the traffic always ran. There was a constant background noise, a steady hum, day or night. Now it was gone and Wesley wondered about it. It was as if the whole city, the entire world perhaps, was waiting for something to happen. Hearing a faint sound, he glanced over his shoulder, but it was merely Fred shifting in her sleep. Wesley wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed, curl up around Fred and sleep. Physically exhausted from the spell casting he’d done just hours before, he should have been sleeping; yet he couldn’t. He knew something was wrong. Any minute now, Cordy’s going to call with a vision, he thought. Shaking his head, Wes pulled on his robe and padded into the living room. There was no reason for him to potentially wake Fred just because he was so restless. On autopilot, Wes put the kettle on to make tea, snatched a couple of Fred’s chocolate chip cookies from a tin on the counter and munched on them while waiting for the water to boil. Reaching for a mug for his tea, Wes glanced at the kitchen clock. 5:45? Wes thought. I haven’t even had two hours… His train of thought cut off abruptly as the restless feeling suddenly peaked into a powerful surge of pain and fear. The mug fell from his hand to shatter with a resounding crash on the tile floor. The shocking surge of pain that whipped through him forced Wes to his knees amongst the shards of the mug he’d dropped. He barely heard Fred’s screamed question as he tried to process what had just happened. He was still restless but that feeling of anticipatory dread was gone, replaced with a feeling of depressed resignation. The restlessness spiked again, causing Wes to cry out in surprise, his eyes turning again to the clock. It now read 6:03. He staggered a bit and was surprised to feel someone holding him. He blinked, shaking his head in an attempt to clear it of the strange feelings and stared in surprise at Fred, having completely forgotten about her due to the shock. “Wes?” Fred all but shook Wesley as he knelt on the kitchen floor. “Wesley? What’s going on? What’s the matter?” “I don’t know. I honestly don’t know.” Wes clung to Fred, needing the physical grounding her presence gave him as his own emotions and that restless feeling kept him on a knife-edge. His accent thickening as he tried to sort out what he was feeling. “Something’s happened, love, something bad.” Wes shook his head, trying to sort through it all. Too many spells cast in too short a time period had reawakened gifts he’d buried for years. He blinked up at Fred, staring at her, suddenly on the verge of tears. “Call Cordelia. Be sure she and Gunn are all right.” Wes hadn’t even finished the statement when their phone rang. When Fred didn’t move, Wes gently shoved her toward it. “Answer it,” he said softly. “I’ll be fine.” He shifted on the kitchen floor, carefully picking up pieces of the broken cup and placing them in the trash. All he wanted to do at that moment was curl up in some hidden spot and cry. That or grab Fred and take her to bed, reassure himself that they were alive in one of the oldest ways known to man. The feelings coursing though him made no sense. That is until he heard Fred’s shocked denial and the sound of the television being turned on. Dusting the last of the porcelain from his hands, Wes rose from the floor, heading into the living room to take the phone from Fred. She was staring at the television in a state of shock quite similar to the one Wes had been in just moments before. “Fred?” he asked softly. Fred’s flinging herself at him startled Wes, her arms wrapping tightly around him, while she buried her face in his neck. At the sight of the screen, Wes sat abruptly on the sofa, pulling Fred down into his lap and lifting the phone to his ear. He managed not to laugh at the near hysterical screaming that he heard when he put the phone to his ear, a combination of denials and demands for reassurances. He waited for Cordy to pause for breath before answering her. “We’re fine. Fred is in shock.” He drew a breath, releasing it slowly. “Don’t bother coming in to the hotel. Stay with Gunn. I expect everything downtown to shut down.” After getting an affirmative from Cordy, knowing that the two younger people were safe with each other, Wes turned off the phone, tossing it aside, and turned his attention to comforting Fred. “Fred?” Wes whispered into her hair where she had curled into him, trying to avoid the images on the screen behind her. His vague restlessness and apprehension was now mostly gone, though that wasn’t a surprise to him considering the carnage that was being shown on the television. Now he felt much older, years of vaguely similar attacks in London giving him the experience to focus on the important things--friends and lovers--the important people. Their friends were safe. Now was the time to comfort the woman he loved. “It’ll be all right, Fred,” he murmured, pulling her closer and tightening his hold on her. He reached for the remote, turning the television off. That news could wait until later. “The world turns and times change, but the important things will always remain.” Wes shifted, lying back on the sofa and pulling Fred down on top of him. “I promise that I’ll never leave you.” He shifted a bit, getting comfortable before whispering into Fred’s ear, “I love you. Nothing’s going to change that. Not even this.” He stroked her hair, murmuring what he hoped were reassuring phrases in her ear all the while hoping that this shock wasn’t going to throw her off the precarious balance she seemed to have discovered in recent weeks. “Wesley?” Fred asked softly, shifting so that she was resting on her forearms and looking down at him. “Why?” She blinked almost owlishly at him. “How could someone do something like that?” |
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Disclaimers: All original material, including fan fiction, artistic renderings and essays on this and associated pages is copyright 2002 by Merzibelle. No infringement on the rights of Mutant Enemy, Inc., Greenwolf Corp., Lazy Dave, Kuzui Enterprises, Sandollar Television, Twentieth Century Fox Television, UPN or The WB, or any other legitimate holders of copyright for Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel, or any characters contained therein is intended. All photographs and caps have been taken from several sites, including but not limited to YesWes, Forums4Fans (where pictures are posted without notation as to original sites) and the WB. |
