Disclaimer:Nothing here is mine.
Rating: PG for angst
Pairing: Fred/Wesley
Timeline: Right after Wesley's death in Not Fade Away
Author's Note: This is my first attempt at a Fresley fic. I had this idea the other day and decided to write itmuch of it is based on thoughts that I have had ever since I first saw the series finale of Angel. There will only be one more chapter after this. Please keep in mind that I obviously have no idea what dying and/or heaven is actually like, so this is simply my vision of it. I would also like to thank SanityFair, whose wonderful fic Always is Never Enough helped inspire me to write this. Enjoy, and as always, please review.
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"My love. Oh my love."
He felt his eyes closing involuntarily, and soon he could no longer feel Fred's touch, her arms holding him. For a few moments there was nothing...just black emptiness, never ending time and space. Then suddenly a distant light appeared...just a tiny speck, a faint glimmer of white. He couldn't feel or see anything, but he tried to move towards it, and it did indeed begin to grow brighter. He walked along numbly, barely considering the fact that his life had just ended.
"That strange wild girl saved us - from Angel."
He wasn't quite sure if that was the moment. The moment he had fallen hopelessly in love with Winifred Burkle. He was pretty sure that it had been a little later than that...once he had gotten to know her. She had stolen his heart, and he had been a lost cause ever since.
The light was growing brighter now...less distant.
The night she had gone to the movies with Angel, her girlish excitement while telling him about it...that was the night he had first felt that heat, that anger deep down...jealousy. From that day on he had decided that he wanted her. He had tried, at first unsuccessfully, to act on his feelings. He wasn't sure exactly what had held him back...the fact that the awkward Watcher who had failed his first assignment miserably still existed inside, perhaps. Every night he had pondered that question, and yet he had yet to come up with an excuse.
An excuse for all of the wasted time.
But things had changed forever that night at the ballet. He swore that his heart had ceased to beat the moment he had seen her kissing Gunn. That moment had been the start of his descent into darkness. The chain of events with Connor had led him further away from her than before. But even in all of the darkness, she had been his light. He still held onto his devotion to her for dear life. Without it he may have been transformed into someone that she never could have come to love.
The most frustrating part was that it seemed everyone else knew what he wanted. Cordelia, Lilah, Angelus. Yet Fred didn't see him the way he saw her.
He wasn't sure exactly when that had changed. Maybe it had been that day in the hotel, after she had overheard Angelus's crude comments. Somehow he had found the courage to kiss her, to take her in his arms right there and act on the feelings that had been bubbling beneath the surface for what seemed like forever. He would never forget the look in her eyes when they had broken away: shock. Mostly shock. But also pleasure. He had been sure of it. That moment had been the first step in the right direction after endless steps backwards.
The light was now large enough and bright enough so that he could see himself, walking slowly into it.
The move to Wolfram and Hart had turned out to be the perfect opportunity. As Gunn became someone that none of them recognized Fred had started to take notice of what had been right in front of her all along. At this point Wesley had found himself; a balance between his geeky days as a Watcher and his rebellious days that had alienated him from his friends, his life. And he finally had the courage. Yet somehow he found himself oblivious to her change of heart. After more than two years of battling with his feelings and trying to find the right words, she had been the one to make the first move.
"That was a signal. Okay? Is that...clear enough for you?"
And from that moment on his life was changed. Those precious days he had with her, those few precious moments, the few kisses and embraces...he had felt as if he had achieved a new level of existence. If this was living, he didn't know what he had been doing before, before her. Just existing.
But as quickly as his life had changed when they had finally gotten it right, it changed upon her death. He went back to just existing...if even. He was pretty sure that he hadn't truly felt anything in the weeks that had passed since Illyria had taken over the body of his love. Just empty vengeance. He had killed Knox, he had nearly killed Gunn, but it hadn't been enough. It hadn't brought her back.
And Illyria...she had complicated things in a way that had been unexpected. When she took on Fred's form to masquerade for the Burkles, he had felt something, more than he had felt since the moment when he had felt the life drain from her. It was so convincing that he had actually had to remind himself that this wasn't Fred. In fact Illyria had been the one thing that had prevented him from simply ending his miserable existence, she was one last tie to the woman he loved. And she had changed, she had become reminiscent of a human. Especially just moments ago, when she had taken on Fred's form to comfort him while he died. He even had a feeling that had the battle gone differently, he may have come to care for Illyria. Not in the way he loved Fred, never in that way. But it may have been something, something to get him through each miserable day.
The light was almost fully surrounding him now, yet all he could see was a never ending white space. Was this heaven? He had never been very religious, but he was fairly certain that this was the point when your loved ones were supposed to come to you. Help you to cross over. But he remembered with a pang that he didn't even have that to look forward to.
"Miss Burkle's soul was consumed by the fires of resurrection. Everything she was is gone. Forever."
If there had been a fragment of hope left in him it had disintegrated upon hearing those words.
He continued to walk through the light, not particularly caring. Maybe this was heaven, but Fred wasn't here. So that didn't make it any more enjoyable than Earth. Perhaps less even, because here there wouldn't even be a shell that resembled her. He would have nothing. He briefly wondered if they had alcohol in heaven.
He spotted something in the distance...a shape, something that contrasted with the pure white light that surrounded everything. He felt some relief at the fact that he could see something...although he had stopped bleeding his wound still stung, and he felt so very tired, both physically and emotionally. Hopefully there would be somewhere for him to sit down, to sleep. For a very long time.
As he got a little closer he began to frown. The shape wasn't a gate or a door as he had expected, instead it appeared to be...a person. He considered who could possibly be waiting for him...Cordelia, perhaps? It had to be her. He began to walk only slightly faster, a little cheered at the prospect of seeing his old friend.
But as he moved closer, he realized that it wasn't Cordelia at all.
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TBC...
