Orpheus

author: Elizabeth5
pairing: W/F, with some C/D, C/A, and other tidbit pairings from the Buffyverse
summary: After Wesley's death, he learns that there is still a chance to save Fred's soul. It's all about closure, baby.
category: romance, angst, action/adventure
rating: PG
author's note: There's no denying that Joss Whedon is a genius, but I need a little more closure. So here it is.
Disclaimer: none of this is mine. Sadly.

chapter two: Truth be Told

With an impatient sigh, Cordelia reached up and knocked on Wesley's door. "Wesley, I know you're in there. Answer the door."

Behind her, Doyle cleared his throat, visibly uncomfortable. "Listen, Cordy, maybe we should let him be. He just made it to Heaven and realized the love of his life isn't here, after all. It's gonna take some time for him to adjust."

"Adjust schmust," Cordelia retorted. "I know what he's up to in there, Doyle. He's sprawled out in front of that stupid tv watching all of his memories of Fred, wallowing away in misery. As a responsible friend, I can't just let him suffer like this."

"But what if he wants to suffer?" Doyle inquired quietly. "Isn't that his own choice?"

She rolled her eyes. "Hello. Heaven. Not really conductive to pain and suffering."

Doyle turned away from her, the muscles of his shoulders and back visibly taught. Cordelia frowned, taken aback by this, then tentatively placed a hand on his shoulder. "Doyle...?"

"You don't know what it's like." Doyle said, his back still turned toward her. "This place is all lollipops and sunshine, right? And it's great, don't get me wrong. But that doesn't stop you from missing people, especially those you love." He finally looked back at her, meeting her gaze meaningfully.

Cordelia's face softened visibly. "Doyle...I'm sorry."

He gave a short, almost bitter laugh. "I know you are, luv. And that's the thing. You're sorry, but you don't really get it. I'm up here, and it's paradise, but I'm stuck in the same place. I'm never gonna grow, never gonna change. But you went on living. You changed. You fell in love with someone else." She looked away, but he took her chin and guided her gaze back to him. "Yeah, I know about the Angel thing. And I understand. But that doesn't mean it didn't hurt. 'Cuz sometimes, you just have to suffer."

She sighed. "I know, Doyle. My life? Big on the suffering. But we need to do something to help Wesley, because he's never gonna stop suffering on his own. He's never gonna stop missing Fred."

"You could fix that."

Her eyes narrowed. "I don't need to explain myself again. Wesley is my friend, not yours, so just butt out."

With that said, she turned and fished a hairpin from her purse and used it to jimmy open the lock. Doyle frowned at her. "I can't believe you're breaking and entering in Heaven..."

In a matter of moments, the door was open. Cordelia moved into the room, scanning until her gaze landed upon Wesley. He was in front of the television as she had predicted, his eyes transfixed on the screen. He scarcely seemed to notice Cordelia and Doyle as they entered the room.

Cordy exchanged a brief glance with Doyle before stepping toward Wesley. "Wes...WES!"

He looked up and blinked at her, rubbing his eyes. "Oh...Cordelia...hello." With that said, he immediately returned his gaze to the television.

Cordelia glanced at the screen. Fred and Wesley were having lunch together, smiling at each other across the table, flirting in their sweet, tentative way. Wesley was smiling far more often than British propriety would call for, and Fred kept self-consciously tugging at her shirt sleeves. There was a light game of footsies going on underneath the table. It was such a sweet moment, and sad. She felt an inexplicable lump forming in her throat.

Forcing it back, Cordelia crouched down and took Wesley by the shoulders, forcing him to look away. "Wes." He met her gaze, his eyes oddly hollow. Cordy dared a brief glance at Doyle before continuing. "Wesley, you can't do this to yourself. You're in Heaven now. You should be happy. Don't you want to be happy?"

When Wesley spoke, his voice was quiet, defeated. "What you don't seem to understand, Cordelia, is that Heaven holds no appeal for me. Not now. Without Fred, any place is Hell. Even paradise."

Cordelia sighed. "Wesley, I know you loved her..."

"You know nothing."

She was becoming irritated now. "Would you stop being Senor Mopey Pants for just a minute and listen to me? I know what it feels like to be separated from someone you love. I loved Angel– love him still– but we never got a chance to explore that love. And now I'm here, and he's there, and it hurts. But I have to keep existing, keep finding some happiness, because he would want me to. I know that Fred would want the same thing."

Wesley laughed at this. "But we don't really know what Fred would want, do we? Because her soul is burned up. Gone. You're parted from Angel for now, and I'm sorry for your pain. But you'll be with him again. He's still existing, just somewhere else. Fred is gone from me forever. Her soul was destroyed, and that's it. I'll never see her again, never hear her voice, never even have the satisfaction of knowing that she found at least some happiness. So forgive me for wanting to wallow in misery without her. But I'm allowed to be selfish, because there's no reason left to do anything else. For all intensive purposes, my soul died the day that hers did."

As if he had made the request, the tv screen whirred to life again. Fred was in Wesley's arms, pale and obviously fading. Her slender frame was convulsing with pain, and she seemed barely lucid.

"Would you have loved me?" she asked weakly.

"I have loved you since the moment I saw you." was Wesley's sincere reply. He shook his head. "No, I think...it was before that, somehow."

Fred was trembling visibly now as the last traces of life left her body. "I'm so scared...I'm so scared...Wesley, why can't I stay?"

And then she was gone.

Cordelia stared at the screen in open shock, tears stinging her eyes. No wonder Wesley was broken. No wonder he was lost. But it was better this way, she knew. She had loved Fred just as much as any of them. But she loved Wesley, too...she was doing this for him.

From behind them, Doyle let out a short burst of air. "I can't stand by and watch this any longer."

Cordelia whipped around to face him. "Doyle!"

Doyle ignored her pointedly, stopping in front of Wesley. "There's still a way you can save her. There's still a way you can save Fred."

And suddenly, there was life in Wesley's eyes again. He rose unsteadily to his knees, his face clearly stunned. "What?"

"She isn't gone, not yet." Doyle informed him. "But you have to move quickly, and it won't be easy."

Wesley's face betrayed the inner conflict occurring within him. It was obvious that he wanted to believe but was afraid to have his hopes shattered once again. "But they said her soul was destroyed, that it was gone."

"Not gone," Doyle corrected. "Just lost. But we can find it."

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After what seemed like an eternity of driving, Fred finally found some light. The old road had merged with a new one, and there were blue street lamps lighting the way, breaking through the overwhelming darkness. But it was still very, very cold.

For a moment, she merely drove in silence. There were various people lining the sidewalks, but they were frozen, unmoving. Only their occasional blinks let her know that they were even alive. She was suddenly overwhelmingly frightened in this place, though nothing particularly menacing had occurred. It was like a living, breathing nightmare. She wanted nothing more but to wake up in Wesley's arms and realize that she was safe. She had always been safe in his arms.

And then, inexplicably, the car was dead. She tried restarting the engine, forcing back the panic that surged through her, but to no avail.

Suddenly, the catatonic people lining the streets came to life and surged toward her. Frantically, Fred locked the doors, but they were not to be stopped so easily. Their fists crashed through the windows, seemingly oblivious to any pain, and dozens of hands were dragging her out into the cold blue light.

"Wesley!" she cried, though she knew it was helpless.

And then they were surrounding her, smothering even her screams.