Don’t Need to See Him: Sound (4/5)Author:
Wesley has been able to separate Illyria from Fred, but it has come with price.Prompt:
037. Sound.Word Count:
FRT (this part)Author's Notes:
AU Fred POV from near the end of Season 5. Be warned – there’s no sugar-coating of Fred’s time in Pylea in these fics. It was dirty, ugly time for her.
My mom has always loved listening to music. Whenever it was just her and me on her school bus after she had finished dropping everyone else off and we were heading back to the farm, she would pull out the radio Dad had gotten her for Christmas one year, and we would choose a station at random and turn the volume up and just let the whole bus reverberate with the sound waves. I used to press my hand to the window of the seat right behind her and let the vibrations wash over me with the sound.
One day, I told her the exact frequency of the waves and how they moved, and Mom turned down the radio for the first time ever and told me that she had a feeling I wasn’t going to be staying in Texas long once I grew up. There was a sad tone in her voice that day – like she thought she was already losing me even though I was only ten.
She did lose me for a while, though – to a place where there wasn’t any music other than what I would play over and over in my head to drown out the crack of the whip and to keep from crying out when I was beaten for something I did wrong. I also played music in my head to try to ignore the moans and sighs and grunts of the others in the slave quarters when they had sex. But then when I had run away and was living in the cave, things were too quiet, so I started talking to myself. That way I could at least hear a human voice and something else besides the trickle of water.
After we came back from Pylea and Angel had left for Sri Lanka, I would sometimes sneak downstairs when everyone else was gone, and Wesley was in the office with the radio on while he did paperwork. I would crouch right outside the door against the wall and press my hand against the doorframe to feel the sound vibrations while we both listened. One night, he looked over and saw me there, so he beckoned me to come in and let me choose the station. We listened to classical music the rest of the night all the way until morning.
A couple of years later, when I was trapped in myself, possessed by Illyria, everything was magnified. Wesley’s quiet grief sounded like screams while everyone’s breathing sounded like Darth Vader – except for Angel and Spike because they never breathed. Illyria didn’t like that at all. What she did like was the Song of the Green, the music that the plants made, and inside her, I could hear it too. It was the only thing that kept me from losing myself until she lost her powers and she couldn’t hear it anymore. When that happened, everything else seemed too quiet for a long time until Wesley did the spell to separate us and there was an almost deafening bang and then just his voice. His voice kept me from me from losing my mind when I realized I couldn’t see anymore. He just kept talking to me.
Like he is now, cuddled up behind me as we lie in bed, whispering in my ear, his voice low and rough as he tells me what he wants to do to me. When he tells me that he loves me, it’s probably my favorite sound in the world with the way his accent rounds the words and sends thrills down my spine. And when I press back against him just the right way, the sounds of his moans are music to me.