<< back to fiction index
Serena

By Rach

DISCLAIMER: I'm an old wolf now, and my ears are falling off. I haven't the energy to steal other people's things because my sock is falling down! (L'il Red in Da Hood 2001 - ad-lib [12.12.01])
DISTRIBUTION: Anywhere that already has my stuff. Anywhere else, just ask!
AUTHORS'S NOTE: 4th in the series, following "Kiss and Tell", "Everything" and "How Much".

"A….a ….a….tishoo!" Fred sneezed for the fourth time in half as many minutes and Cordelia looked up from the book she'd been reading.

"Fred, you look awful. Are you sure you don't wanna leave it there for today?"

"I'm FINE! Honestly!"

"You don't look it."

"I think she's right, honey, maybe you should get some rest?" Wesley spoke up. He'd been sneaking worried peeks at Fred for the last fifteen minutes, not wanting to be the first to speak up. She did look awful, but she'd been a little on edge lately and he didn't want to upset her even more.

"Wesley, I know how I feel, and I'm fine." Fred snapped. Cordelia and Angel exchanged a worried glance - they'd never heard Fred snap at Wesley before. Wesley blushed a little, and went back to his book. Suddenly there was a smacking noise as Fred dropped the volume she'd been looking through on the table. She was now looking extremely pale, and Cordelia decided Fred had to go to bed even if she had to be dragged up there. As it turned out, there was no need for that - she pushed herself from her seat silently. As she reached the door, she turned around.

"I'm going to bed now, because I feel dizzy. I'll see you all in the morning," she whispered. It was very matter of fact. Wesley stood up.

"I'll come with y-"

"No. I'll be fine on my own. You stay here." Fred left the room, and Wesley walked back to his seat.

"What's wrong with her lately?" whispered Cordelia.

"I don't know, but something is, and she's not telling me." For a moment Wesley looked as if he were going to cry. "I don't like it when she doesn't tell me things." While the others chatted quietly about what could be wrong with Fred, they didn't here her whispering to herself as she was heading up the stairs.

"Can't be ill, not now." Over and over again she said it, until she reached her room. She laid down in bed, and huddled herself up at the edge, without even bothering to undress. She hoped she hadn't upset Wesley, but she knew if he'd been around, she would have had fun. He would have made her laugh, and then she would feel bad. She shouldn't be having fun. Not right now.

****

Wesley crept into Fred's room an hour later, to see her fast asleep, still fully dressed. He smiled, and quietly sat down in the seat next to her bed. He gently felt her head - she was hot, but not call the doctor hot. He picked up her hand - he'd learnt she could sleep through almost anything - and held it for a while.

"What's wrong, Fred?" he whispered. "Why won't you tell me what's the matter?"

****

Wesley had left Fred's room by the time she awoke, feeling much better, but her nose still streaming. There was no sign that he'd been there except a handwritten note on her nightstand that read: "you know where I am if you want to talk."

"I promise I will. Later." She whispered to the emptiness around her. Quickly and quietly she opened her wardrobe and grabbed a black shirt and pair of trousers, picked up her winter jacket and left. On the way out of the main hotel door, she glanced at the clock on the wall - 7am.

She had one foot out of the door when she remembered she needed her wallet. She spun around and stepped back into the hotel, immediately regretting the fast action. Her head was spinning again, so she took a couple of deep breaths, and held onto the doorframe. When she still felt dizzy moments later, she slid down to the bottom of the frame and sat for a while with her back to the door.

She wasn't sure if she'd dozed off, or blacked out, but when she opened her eyes, Wesley was sitting on the steps next to her, looking concerned.

"Are you OK? I came down to get something to eat - I couldn't sleep - and I saw you sitting there."

"I'm fine." She started to stand back up, but realised that her legs still didn't want to support her.

"Fred, maybe you should go back to be-"

"NO!"

Wesley sighed. "Fred, what's wrong? I just want you to talk to me." "I'm sorry, Wesley. I've been a real bitch, haven't I?" She echoed his sigh. "I have to go out. But come with me and I'll tell you."

****

Half an hour later they stood at the back of St Cuthbert's Church, not far from the hotel. They'd been standing there for about ten minutes when Fred first spoke.

"I was fourteen. Mom and Dad had gone out for the evening, and they left me to look after Serena."

"Who's Serena?"

"My sister."

"I didn't know you have a sister."

"I don't. Like I said, they'd gone to a party. I'd babysat for Serena before."

"How old?"

"Three. They said it wasn't my fault. The KiddiRadio we had plugged in upstairs had something go wrong with it and I didn't notice. When I went upstairs to check on her she was cold. They said she'd been dead for a couple of hours already."

"What happened?"

"She chewed an eye off one of her teddies in her sleep and choked on it."

"Ohhh, you poor baby," He cuddled her into his chest. "But if there was nothing you could do …"

"I'm sure there was something. And even if there wasn't, I wish someone would be mad at me. Instead there was all this sympathy and I felt like I really didn't deserve it. Mom and Dad never shouted at me about it. Not once. It's been 8 years now and I still feel just as awful. That's why I didn't talk to you about it. You always cheer me up, and I really felt as though I didn't deserve it. I thought if I got today over with on my own, then I'd be able to carry on until next year."

"But now you've told me, I'll always be there to hold you hand. And if you don't want me to cheer you up, you know I'll be there anyway. You can tell me anything, you know that, don't you?"

"I do."

"Now if you're done here, we should be getting back to the hotel, because if you don't mind me saying so, you look awful."

****

Cordelia popped her head into Fred's door, as she was on her way downstairs. She smiled to see Wesley fast asleep next to the bed, with his head on the covers and his glasses askew. Fred shuffled around slightly in her sleep, never once letting go of Wesley's hand. Cordy closed the door, smiling. She didn't like to see them fight. They were so perfect for each other.

<< back to fiction index