As It Should Be
"It shall be mine again," she says. "All of it. Mine." Her eyes are fierce and determined. "As it should be."
Raising an eyebrow at her, Wesley helps Spike guide her down the hall and towards a holding room. Truth be told, he doesn't know why he hasn't left already. He's had the chance. In fact, he can leave right now if he so desires it.
There seems an unstoppable force holding him where he is, binding him to her. She isn't Fred anymore. This creature stole Fred's body and destroyed her soul. He should hate her. He should wish for revenge and think of ways he can inflict onto her the pain she caused him when Fred died.
But he doesn't. Perhaps he's too good a person for that (he knows that's a lie) or perhaps he's not quite right in the head after what happened (more than the expected amount because anyone who's lost their soul mate as he has just done must grieve; it's human nature and he is human).
It's an aching deep inside of him. As much as she repulses him she is the last remaining thing he has of Fred and he loved her. Still does. Though everything in him wants to hurt Illyria, it also craves her touch. It craves her heart and soul and mind and all she is because she used to be Fred. She has Fred's body.
And he's not ready to let go.
"You're delusional," he tells her when they're safely in the room and Spike has left them. "Get over yourself and move on."
Inwardly he wishes himself able to take his own advice. He leaves her staring at a wall with eyes unnaturally blue and all wrong.