Wesley Wyndam-Pryce (watcher_pryce) wrote in bonded_byblood,
Wesley Wyndam-Pryce

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Continued from Here

I wasn't able to get much sleep in my old room. No one had been in there though. I guess they had been to busy with the small things. Such as smashing my tea set, or my small soldiers. But the bed where I'd once been able to sleep safely now felt uncomfortable. Not like mine, not my place. Every sound woke me up, every little shadow I thought I saw made me nervous. I was half expecting Angel or Gunn to come in and finish the job Justine had started.

Gunn and Fred did come home at one point. The moment I heard their voices I tensed and got ready to leave. The voices raised, at least Gunn's did, but they never came near my room. Either Angel had told them not to, or they were to disgusted to even take the chance to be confronted with me. When the voiced died down, I still couldn't find sleep. Tossing and turning. Left to right, until dawn started to break through and I gave up.

Sliding out of bed, I found some of my spare clothes in the closest. Odd that, to find a small part of me still here. Where it shouldn't be. It felt wrong. I was so tired of this all. I was so tired of keep on going, keep on moving. Sighing, I got on my shoes and stared out the window. The sun would be up fully soon and then a new hell would await. A new hell of trying and always failing. Shaking my head, I opened the door and peered outside. Good, no one there. Not that I'd expected that, but still. Didn't feel like walking into anyone.

Angel still confused the hell out of me. His being nice to me didn't fit the profile I had so carefully build. Gunn acted accordingly. Fred and Connor did as well. Angel didn't. He was supposed to hate me; he was supposed to shun me. He was...supposed to want to kill me. That what was I had been preparing for. Not the constant 'thank you's', and most certainly not dinner, and him stitching up my arm. Or offering me a place to sleep.

Softly closing the door, I started toward the stairs. I was till tired and I noticed the world looked and felt a little fuzzy. My arm itched and was looking a little red. Must've been scratching it last night without noticing it. No matter, I had something for that at home. The dark and depressing place I called home. As quietly as I could, I stared down the stairs ready to get the hell out of here. I was terrified of Angel catching and... Not having any idea what he'd do.
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