Charles was the most upset by it though. He couldn't understand, didn't know how I could do what I had planned. You see we had a plan, Wesley and I, and we hadn't told anyone. It all started because I was being a bad person. I saw how much time Wesley had been spending in his office, so one day when he was out with Angel, I went and looked over all the papers that he had been writing on, I found out what was going on and I couldn't believe it. That was when Wesley found me. He was angry at first, he told me that I couldn't tell anyone, not anyone about what I saw. I asked him what he was going to do, and he told me that he was going to have to take Connor away. That was when I made a split second decision, one that Charles hated and will not forgive me for, I told Wesley that I would help him, and that I would go with him.

The plan was pretty simple, and almost went the right way. Except for the fact that Charles insisted that I go with him to get the take-out food. That wasn't part of the plan but I knew I had to otherwise he would have known that something was up. I pretended to need something from up in my room and I quickly called Wesley and told him that he needed to leave without me then double back and I would meet him in the alley behind the hotel. It would have worked too, except shortly after he left Holtz showed up. I should have run. I should have just gotten out of there and gone to find Wesley, or called him. That's what I should have done, I should have called him and let him know that he should just go, go and get out of there and not look back, not help anyone.

I was scared. I let fear take hold of me, rule over me, control my actions, and that was my greatest fault. I let him down, I was the one that let him get hurt, and it was me who was actually responsible for Connor being taken, not him. No one else understands that though. They all blame him; they say that it was his fault, that he should have known better, and that I was only doing what I did because he had asked me to. That was when I showed them his notes, all of them, the countless times he had translated and retranslated the prophecy, trying to make it say something else, anything else. Nothing worked though, it always said the same thing, and what we were doing seemed like the only way, it was the only, it would have worked too, Connor would have been safe. If only, but that doesn't matter now. After they saw the translations they asked me why didn't he show them, they could have helped us, but the truth is none of them could, not one of them would have been able to handle the truth, honestly I couldn't handle it so how could they possibly have dealt with it, and that was the core of the problem. They blame him, but really I am to blame, for not being strong enough for him.

Anyone but me, it could have been anyone, but no it was my fault. Only I seem to be the only one who sees that. Wesley, oh god poor Wesley. He lies there day in and day out in that hospital bed. I go to him during visitor hours, I read to him, hold his hand, talk to him, the doctor says that is the best thing to do. Charles hates that I spend so much time with him, not that it matters now, we broke up. I just, I couldn't take the guilt anymore. He would always make me feel bad cause he said I spent more time with Wes then I did with him, but what did he expect me to do? It was my fault that he was in that hospital bed, just lying there with that bandage across this throat, and I wasn't about to abandon him like everyone else had. Not when he was like that. The doctors told me that he might not wake up, but I didn't believe them, and I still don't. Thank god that he didn't have a living will though, if he did, I don't even want to think about it.

Punishment, there are many forms of it. The worst by far though is seeing someone you care about in pain. If I could do anything, give him my right arm, my vocal cords, my heart, I would do it, anything to see him move again, to see his beautiful blue eyes look at me one more time. Sometimes after I have been sitting next to his bedside for such a long time I just start to cry, uncontrollable tears. I'll just sit there with my face in my hands and my body shaking until one of the nurses come in and ask me if I am okay. I always nodded and wipe away the tears. They ask me to leave for a minute so they can take his blood or things like that, and that is when I duck into the bathroom to clean myself up. I have to be strong for him; it is the only way he will get better. I have to do this for him; I can't fail, not this time.

Yesterday I got a shock. I was crying, just a little, it was around noon, it always happens around noon, anyway someone put their hand on my shoulder. I knew right away it wasn't any of the nurses, they never do that, they always act like I am not crying and give me a cheery smile, like it makes a world of difference or something. The hand startled me though, I almost jumped out of my chair, but when I looked up I saw Cordelia.

"Fred," she said in a quiet voice. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," I wiped away the tears and forced a laugh. "I'm just peachy keen."

"Fred," she titled her head at me.

I shook my head at her. "What do you want me to say," I asked her. "No I'm not fine. Every time I look at him my heart breaks. Every time I think about him my head hurts. Of course I am not fine. I am dying inside. Everyday he doesn't wake up a little more of me slips away."

"I," she started. "I am sorry Fred. But none of this your fault. If he had-"

"Don't," my voice hardened and shook my head more violently. "Don't say it. Don't even think it. None of this was his fault. This was my fault, all of it. I should have told Charles no, I should have just waited for him at the hotel like I said I would."

"You couldn't have known," Cordelia tried to reason with me. "Besides it wasn't your responsibility."

Her words hit me like bullets. It broke through the wall of self-blame that I had put up and brought it tumbling down. This, this wasn't all my fault. "You are right," I looked away from her. "This was all of our faults. We should have noticed, should have asked the questions. He had been hiding it, keeping it in, trying to handle it on his own, it was killing him, and we didn't even notice. This," I gestured to Wesley in the bed, "may be my fault, but we are all to blame for why he is here. We didn't notice, couldn't even tell, and we were suppose to be his friends."

Cordelia was a bit taken aback by what I had said but I am sure she knew that it was true. We were all to busy to notice how far Wesley had gone away from us. Cordy with Groo, Angel with Connor, and me with Gunn, the thought made me sick to my stomach. We were all so wrapped up in our own lives that we didn't even notice when he stopped teasing us, when he stopped smiling, or when he started to spend countless hours holed up in his office. "Maybe," she finally managed to stammer out. "Maybe you are right Fred, but that doesn't mean that you should be coming in here day after day letting this eat away at your soul. He wouldn't want you to do that."

"If I don't stay here with him who will," I hissed at her. "Will you?" She didn't say anything just looked away. "No, no I didn't think you would. You still blame him, blame him for something that was not his fault. It was mine, yours, Gunn's, Lorne's, and yes even Angel's. As a group we failed each other and that is why Connor was taken, no other reason." I moved my chair closer to Wesley and took his hand in mine ignoring Cordelia for the time being.

Cordelia shifted around a bit and then sighed. "Do you," she started but stopped to wait for me to look at her. I did look up but I didn't move away from Wesley. "Fred, do you love him?"

"Of course I do," the answer came out of mouth and when I heard it I was shocked. I had never sounded more sure of anything in my life, and it scared me a little.

I think Cordelia saw my semi-perplexed look because she smiled at me. "Well then," she sat down in another chair with that sly grin on her face. "I guess it is a good thing that you dumped Gunn."

Eventually she left. She asked me if I needed anything and I told her no and then she just left. After she went away the nurse came in and said it was time to take some blood. I went to the bathroom and washed my face. I looked into the mirror as I patted my face dry and I hated what I saw looking back at me. A weak shell of a person, someone who was never even very strong to begin with and now was even less so. I needed him; it was never Gunn. Thinking back over what I had said when Cordelia asked me that question, the question of all questions, it was just like a veil had been lifted. I was seeing everything the way it was supposed to be seen and it made my head spin.

"Ms. Burkle," The nurse tapped on the door. "I am done now. You can come out."

Slowly I threw away the towel and took one last look in the mirror. Then taking in a deep breath I put my shoulders back and walked out the door. "Thank you Nurse Janice," I smiled and nodded at her.

"Have a nice afternoon then," she called from the door.

"I always do," I smiled again settling myself down in the chair.

Causally I reached over to where I had put the book down that I had been reading to Wesley. The cover was old red leather, the gold lettering a little faded, but it was soft from years of handling. Inside on the title page was a little note that had been written to him by his mother, probably the reason he kept this book, I found it in his apartment near his bed and knew it was his favorite. Carefully I turned to the page that I had left off on and started to read.

"Be it so, Lysander: find you out a bed," I spoke in an exaggerated voice. "For I upon this bank will rest my head." As I kept reading from the book I swear I could saw a faint smile on his lips, but it was impossible. There was no change on the monitors so he was still sleeping peacefully listening to me read from A Midsummer Night's Dream.