Chapter Six

The first thing Spike saw was the moon. It was massive and full. The light shown down on them all, like a curtain parting the dark of the night. The cemetery was quiet. You could hear rain drip from the dampened trees, and touch the ground. The ground squished under his boots as he started to make his way forward. He had taken two steps, when he stopped. He realized he didn't really know the way. He hadn't gone to Cordelia's funeral with the rest of them. It just hadn't seemed right somehow.

Gunn seemed to understand Spike's hesitation, and took up the lead without a word. It wasn't a far walk, and Spike kept his eyes ahead of himself. He didn't want to look behind at Illyria and...Wes. He chastised himself for such thoughts. 'You've seen death before you moron!' he thought to himself, "Hell! I've caused it more times that I can count!" But truth was he rarely, if ever, had to bury anyone before. There was Buffy, but he hadn't gone to her funeral either. It had been during the day, and he had been too drunk to visit until several weeks after. This was the first time he had to actually bury a friend before. He was so deep in his thoughts he almost ran right into Gunn.

Gunn remembered every step and stone on the way to Cordelia's resting place. Now he was there, the full meaning of everything they had seen, and done was starting to sink in. He hadn't wanted to believe, but now he had no choice. He felt Spike come to a sudden stop, and mutter a curse under his breath. It didn't matter. He was looking at the words. Words on a stone.

Here lies Cordelia Chase
She was our eyes, our ears,
Our heart.
May she rest in peace.

Gunn had been too shocked to cry when they found out she had gone, but now the tears started to flow and simply wouldn't stop. Spike laid a hand on his friend's arm, but Gunn was too far gone. He sank to his knees in the mud, and simply cried until he could cry no more.

Illyria had joined them, and carefully laid her burden down next to the stone. She seems a bit unsure about the sobbing Gunn, but seemed to at least have an understanding look in her eyes. She settled on tending to the blankets surrounding Wesley; making sure they were all tucked in and snug. She seemed loathe to take one finger off of him for even more than an instant.

Something next to Cordelia's stone caught Spikes eye. It was a smaller, newer stone, but what had gotten his attention was the name: Francis Allan Doyle, Gone But Never Forgotten. Angel must have had it placed there, Spike realized. 'The ranks are growing here. Fallen heros one and all,' he thought to himself.

Gunn managed, after a while, to pull himself together.

"We better get started," he stated sadly, wiping the tears from his eyes.

Illyria nodded. Then frowned. "We have forgotten a tool for digging the earth."

"Oh bollocks!" Spike groaned. They had been so gung ho to get here, they forgot they would have to dig in the ground to actually bury the guy!

Layla, who had left them alone since they arrived on the hillside, silently touched Spike's shoulder. Spike jumped and looked at her rather aggravatedly.

"If you place your friend where you would like him to rest. I can ...well...merge him with the earth."

Spike raised an eyebrow. "Got anymore tricks we should know about then?"

She made a small smile. "A few." Then she looked at Illyria, who nodded in agreement.

Illyria gently slid Wesley's body until he was above where Cordelia lay. She laid a hand on his chest and spoke a few words so quietly, that Spike had to strained his already heightened hearing to make out that she was even speaking. Then reluctantly, she let go, and stood. Gunn said nothing. 'Poor man's in shock,' Spike thought. He turned, and nodded at Layla.

Layla closed her eyes, and pictured the earth moving and stretching around the awaiting body. The group watched in silence as the earth seemed to sink and swirl like water, and slowly all that remained on this realm of Wesley Wyndam-Price disappeared under the surface of the earth. When it was over, the ground was smooth and the grass was green, and the grave looked as though nothing had disturbed it that evening.

Spike opened the box Layla had given him, and gently shook out the ashes over the top of the grass. The wind caught some of it, and Illyria watched in wonder as it rose like smoke into the heavens above.

The company stood there for sometime later. No one wanted to be the first to move or to speak. It was when the first rays of the sun started to peak over the horizon in glorious purples and yellows that Layla whispered, "We should go." Illyria looked at her accusingly, but seeing the horizon agreed with a nod. Gunn just silently took Illyria's hand, and Spike took Gunn's. As Layla's hand slipped into his own, Spike looked into the heavens and whispered, "Rest in Peace...to all of you."

As the sun rose that morning all that remained of the previous night was a medium sized wooden box on top of a lush green grave.