I hate guilt. It's nagging and constant, and no wonder it makes Angel so broody. I feel like I threw in the towel a little too soon on the research. I do not apologize in any way for the fake yawns and loud sighs of frustration, because if I'd have had to stare down at those dusty pages for five more minutes, I probably would have ended up with some kind of impaired sense of vision. The physical kind--not the mental pictures. Now I'm starting to think that we should have kept going for a while longer. Illyria's not the best source of information; but that has to do with her being creepy and mentally unstable. The point is, she thought that those books were useful, and who knows, maybe she has a sense about these things.
Her "sense" was my logic when I went downstairs to pick up another book to read over. It has nothing to do with me trying to help pick up the slack now that Fred's gone; even though I do make an effort not to mention science related things around Wesley. I don't want to do more damage, especially with our Fred version of Violet Beauregarde running around. She's a perfect reminder of everything that Fred wasn't. Cold, empty, confused--Illyria is nothing like the warm, intelligent little sister who was determined to keep fighting.
I wish I could find a way to hate her for it.
I'd never tell Wesley my opinion on this, but I think Illyria is just as much a victim as the rest of us are. She's trapped, and probably scared. On top of being scared, I doubt that she understands anything about fear.
I think I pity her, and I hope to God that Fred wouldn't mind.