Chapter Three: An Unexpected Guest Arrives

It wasn't much at all, Wesley's funeral. It took place in the wee hours of the morning as a fresh shower of rain barraged them. Wesley's body had been placed inside of a plain, wooden casket. It was all they could scrounge up at such short notice.

The funeral was done in the Woods Will Cemetery. A perimeter was set up around the cemetery so that no demons could break in and ruin the funeral. Illyria was the first to pay her respects.

Standing over Wesley's casket, staring at his dead, pale face she restrained herself from shedding tears as Illyria. She didn't want to accept her humanity so completely. All that she did was lie to him again. She dropped flowers into his casket as Fred, not Illyria. As Fred, she cried. As Fred, she really paid her respects. As Illyria, she sucked it up and walked away, trying to ignore the hole in her stomach that was doing nothing but getting bigger and bigger.

Next came Gunn. He apologized to Wesley for everything. For the hatred Gunn had shown to Wesley the year before. For messing up and getting Fred killed to be replaced by Illyria. Hell, he even apologized for cheating at a poker game they'd played a couple years beforehand.

Gunn wiped a single tear from his eye and uttered his final good-bye. "I'm gonna miss you Wes."

Then Gunn left.

Spike came forward next. "Hey there Wes. Didn't know ya for long… or all that well for that matter. Sucks being dead. I should know; been there myself. No walk in the park I can tell you that. And I guess Angel was right about not all of us making it. A lot of people have said that in the past, but I guess I'm not used to it being true despite the fact.

"So what I'm gonna do now is I'm gonna go find a place to sit down. The dissection last night wasn't so fun and I'm still feeling pain from it. I'll see you when I die for the second… actually third time. As long as I don't come back as some non-corporeal ghost again. If Buffy had seen me like that she might've thought she hadn't actually gotten around to successfully killing the First. Bye."

Spike turned around and walked off, his coat--which looked exactly like the one he had taken from Ms. Wood back in the seventies but was only a duplicate--billowing out behind him as he trudged off through the dew covered grass.

Angel was the last to pay his respects. He stood in the exact spot that Spike had and stared down at Wesley's body. He looked so peaceful. Angel hoped he was at peace. God knows he deserved it.

"I don't have any flowers. It seemed too feminine. But I do have something to give you. I could've gotten you something better, but with the apocalypse and all I had to settle for this."

Angel then grinned a little and pulled out an old, paper-back dictionary. It was the only book that he could find, and since Wesley was a book-worm from birth it seemed only fitting to give him a book. Angel set it down next to the bouquet of flowers that Illyria had given him in her Fred form.

"Never would've thought we'd turn out friends. Especially after we first met in L.A. with you pointing a crossbow at my heart trying to intimidate me. Didn't work out like you had planned. Remember?"

There was a depressing silence that followed that.

"Well, I can't really think of anything to say. Had I been given more time I'd have written a speech worthy of this occasion. Unfortunately I had no time, and this was all that I could offer you. I suppose it's better than nothing. Once I die a third time I'll see you. Good-bye Wesley."

Angel then left as well.

The Scooby gang was half-way across the city battling a hot spot of other demons during the funeral and were unable to make it. Wesley's casket was slowly lowered into the hole in the ground by Initiative soldiers working ropes and pulleys.

There was an evacuation of L.A. later that day. Every single man, woman, and child was gone by midnight. Had there not been the extra incentive to leave caused by the army of demons they never would've gotten out so soon.

And had it not been for the confusion and chaos a certain shiny, black Camaro never would've gotten into the city.

"All little ants… running away," the passenger mumbled as though she were stoned. "Leaving the queen to die all by her lonesome self."

The driver looked over at the passenger with a smile on his face.

"Angel's going after the queen," the driver said in a deep voice. "And by queen I mean the Senior Partners of course."

"Are we going to see Spike? I heard he died in a blistering blast of sunlight."

"Oh yeah, we're gonna see Spike."

"Are we going to hurt… the little bird?" the passenger asked. If Spike had seen the passenger his jaw would've dropped and his years and years of being a soulless killing machine with this woman would've come back to him again. This woman had sired Spike. This woman's name was Drusilla, driven insane by Angel before finally being sired herself. Vampified as one who didn't know the word 'sire' might say.

The man chuckled. "Definitely."

"Good."

Drusilla ran her long fingernail across the window, which was being barraged by rain. She smiled as she followed a collection of rain drops with her finger. She hadn't seen Spike in a long time. Last time she'd seen him he had been without a soul, and had only died once.

"Are the dead men going to arrive soon?"

"Sure thing sweet thing. The dead men, the Jarlkarlones, the Senior Partners, the whole she - friggin' - bang. Probably some things we don't know about even. The apocalypse is here baby. And it sure as hell is gonna be one hell of a show.

"Strange thing, this world. Vampire Angel tried to kill the world with me and my Spike once. And now the two of them are trying to save it while I'm all alone trying to destroy it with you."

"And here's another strange thing: I stopped the first apocalypse."

Then the driver began cackling. Two million years had passed since his birth. Well, almost anyway. It would be ten years before his big two - oh - oh - oh - oh - oh - oh… and thus the end of the world. His birth had stopped the first apocalypse. Nothing like him had ever been born before. He was human. He was the first human being ever given life. His two - millionth birthday had been destined to be the end of the world.

Revenerusbogan was his initial title. Now it was Bob. Well, Robert actually, but he liked Bob more. It seemed more compact.

Bob's birth had stopped the First's first attempt at an apocalypse. It had shocked the First into submission and then the demons had forced it back into the ground where it had lain dormant until just last year when it had been killed by Buffy and her group.

Bob had been there for the first slayer's creation. He had watched the woman struggling with her chains, struggling with all her might. Then the demon essence had gone into her and she had broken out of said chains to go on a killing spree in which all of the victims were demons.

Now Bob was assisting all of those involved in the final apocalypse that would force the Earth to collapse. He chuckled a little as he flipped on his high beams.

The world would be going to hell soon. And he'd been chowing down on Cheetos when it did.

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 Hey, MorbidMan here. Sorry for such a short chapter. I'm not really all that inspired at the moment. The next chapter should be longer. Reviews are highly appreciated. Have a nice day.

"KEEP AWAY FROM ME!" - Frank "28 Days Later" (I have a fan fiction up for this movie too. It is about the deaths of each of the characters that die. I've got the first two major deaths written about.)