Another stab to his heart, she had done it once again. Taken on the form of Fred and turned the blue knife inside the wound, grinding it deeper.

Told him she loved him, a cruel lie, the sweet words pure venom, eating him from the inside out, leaving him hanging by a thread.

He had looked in her eyes, but they were cold. Not blue anymore, but as cold as the blue eyes, freezing his heart alive.

And then she was back, the blue demon, her tongue and appearance as sharp as an icicle, stabbing his already bleeding soul, but not letting him die.

She was the knife, killing him a little more each day. Slowly, cruelly.

This one turn of the knife was too much.

As Wesley knelt on the floor of his apartment that evening, one of the many lights that dotted the LA skyline at night caught in the blade of the knife he was holding.

It was almost blue, shining cold and cruel as he pressed it to his wrist, cutting deeper and deeper, the tears that fell from his eyes mingling with the blood that flowed from his wrist.

The visions of cold blue slowly turned to fuzzy white as he collapsed to the side and the words flowed from his mouth as the life fled his body…

"I love you, Fred." Wesley whispered. "I'm coming to you."