Wesley

He had just lost the love of his life, and he felt lost and confused. He couldn't think where he could go, what he could do. He couldn't go back to the office, no one was there. He couldn't call anyone, it was too late at night and everyone would be asleep.

He felt alone, scared, tired, hurt and most of all empty. Fred was still in his heart, and she always would be. But she was gone, physically. He would never see her beautiful face in the morning again, greeting him joyfully with a smile and a, "Hi Wesley, nice morning isn't it?"

He got to his feet, beside the bench and lifted Fred up into his arms. He carried her, limping from a leg injury, to nowhere. He walked, and she lay limp in his arms. He didn't know where he was going, and he didn't look back. He knew that the driver of the jeep, the cause of her death, was back there. If he went back, he knew that he'd kill the man.

So he trudged on. Blood trickled down his leg under his trousers. He struggled to keep walking, knowing that he had to get somewhere. He had to take Fred somewhere.

Her place. He had to get Fred back to her home. The least he could do for her was let her rest in peace somewhere she felt safe, secure, welcome.

After what felt like hours of walking, he reached Fred's place. He went over to her bed and gently laid her down, positioning her so she looked like she was only sleeping.

The gash on her forehead had been bleeding rather heavily, but had begun to dry. Wesley went into her bathroom and brought back a cloth, with which he began dabbing at her wound. Gently, he patted until the blood around the wound was mostly gone. He placed the cloth on the corner of her bedside table and kissed her on the cheek. He smiled and then sat in the chair opposite her bed. He looked around the room, and the deep maroon and red colours that created the décor of her room. Curtains, painting, drapes and little knick-knacks decorated the empty space, and Wesley wondered what he could now use to fill his empty space. The space left from Fred.

He got up and switched on Fred's stereo, and sat back down. A beautiful, soft, slow song began to play on the radio.

I've heard there was a secret chord

That David played and it pleased the Lord

But you don't really care for music do you?

It goes like this

The fourth, the fifth

The minor fall, the major lift

The baffled king composing Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

He sat, staring at Fred as the wound on his leg became suddenly excruciatingly painful. Wesley ignored it, not able to take his eyes off the beauty that lay before him as the song continued.

Your faith was strong but you needed proof

You saw her bathing on your roof

Her beauty and the moonlight over threw you

She tied you to a kitchen chair

She broke your throne she cut your hair

And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Wesley convulsed, shaking uncontrollably for a few seconds. He was going into shock. Prolonged shock.

Maybe I've been here before

I know this room I've walked this floor

I used to live alone before I knew you

I've seen your flag on the marble arch

Love is not a victory March

It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Wesley stood and grabbed some scissors off the dresser, cutting up the leg of his pants. He pried the two halves open, revealing a shockingly bloody and red wound on his thigh. He collapsed to the floor, landing against the side of the bed. He shook again, unable to control his body. He sat there, leaning against the bed, bleeding and listening to the music play.

There was a time when you let me know

That real and going on below

But now you never show it to me do you

And remember when I moved in you

The holy dark was moving too

And every breath we drew was Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Wesley pulled himself up so he could sit on the bed, and he lay himself down beside his beloved Fred. Her beautiful body lay still, frozen in an eternal slumber. He leant against the wall, with his injured and bleeding leg bent and sitting up. He felt light-headed, and very drowsy. He felt himself falling, but he was still sitting on the bed, next to Fred. He felt himself becoming powerless, and unable to move. He felt himself slipping away, and discovered he could no longer see. Everything was blurry for a second, then it was all gone.

Maybe there's a God above

And all I ever learned from love

Was how to shoot at someone who out-drew you

And it's no cry you can hear at night

And it's not somebody who's seen the light

It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah

Wesley sat beside the love of his life, Fred. His body was limp, just like hers, and together they lay on her bed. Wesley's eyes were looking down at his beloved, but his head wasn't even tilted much. His hand was resting on her forearm, gripping it weakly.

Wesley was dead, and as he slept with his beloved Fred, nobody even knew that the two were there. They slept quiet, still and tranquil together, not knowing that they would be found as soon as day broke. The smell of blood was overpowering, with Wesley's fatal wound going nearly unnoticed at first because of his attention to Fred. Neighbours could already smell the odour, and had called the police.

Together they sat; together they slept. And as the song finished, they were finally at peace.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Author's Note: Wesley too died of natural means, from the car accident that eventually proved fatal to him. He wasn't paying any attention to himself and his needs, only Fred's. It was too late when he realised what was happening, and he was gone clicks just like that. It was meant to be a tearjerker; did it come out that way? Reviews anyone? BTW, the song was Hallelujah by Rufus Wainwright.

I don't actually want to write an end for Gunn or Lorne, because I just want to leave it at what I've got so far. If I add anything else to this, I fear that it will wreck it. Sorry.