Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

Spoilers: See Chapter 1

To Hell With The World

Chapter 3: Die to Live

It was a bit later in the day and Fred's pain had increased. She knew it wouldn't be long now. She was not worried about herself, at least the pain would be taken away. She was concerned about Wesley, however, as he didn't seem quite himself. Whenever he was like this, one way or the other, it didn't turn out well, especially for those who got in his way. She wasn't naive, she knew that the sarcophagus being in the lab had been part of someone's plan, whether her being infected was an accident or not, it wouldn't matter to Wesley, he might seek vengeance, even if it was undeserved. He might destroy himself in the process, she didn't want that.

The one thing that did scare her was the fact that he had begged to help her earlier. He had never done that before. Fred had heard the stories of when Faith had first come to town, how she had tortured Wesley almost to death, he hadn't pleaded for his life then. But for her at this time he had implored and insisted to the point of desperation. She had to do something with the little time she had left to reassure him that it would be alright eventually.

'Okay, first step, show him I care about him.' As she thought this she said, "Will you kiss me?" Wesley didn't respond, he just did as she asked, holding and kissing her with all the love he could muster. He cursed the thing infecting her, as her lips had become nearly as hard as her skin, he doubted she could feel his touch any longer. 'What cruel twist is this, that she would be denied one of the most basic forms of comfort and affection at the end, the message never said anything about this.'

As his thoughts whirled, he failed to notice that the kiss was more than it seemed, as same light exchange from before, happened again on a smaller scale and it took a little more of the suffering away. Unfortunately, it was not enough to be noticed by either of them. Fred was thinking of what to say next when a surge of pain ripped through her mind and body. Instead of her plan, she gasped out a disjointed question "Would you have loved me?"

Wesley was surprised by the question, as he thought he had made his feelings clear before. If she needed more from him, he would give her an absolute truth "I've loved you since I've known you. No, that's not-I think maybe even before."

At this Fred began to tear up, it would not be okay for him after this, ever. She thought back and realized why he reacted to her the way he did all this time. One moment stood out in her memory, it was after he had been infected by Billy Blim, she had been forced to save herself by knocking Wesley out. After that he had hid from everyone, especially her. Finally, she had gone to his apartment and found him broken and unsure of himself. She recalled their conversation when he had said "I meant to call you back. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He wasn't apologising for the lack of a return call. He was apologizing for trying to kill her, among other things, when he was seized by the effects of Billy's blood.

Fred grabbed onto this comment and figured it was an appropriate response to his declaration of love. "I'm 'so' sorry." Wes's tears matched Fred's at this point.

He began babbling "No, no, no..." as if he could stop this horror by denial and his will alone, if only it were that easy. Wesley raged at the harshness of the world with a flurry of thoughts that were part prayer, part condemnation. 'Of all the people and demons I've encountered, none deserves this, her least of all. I merit this punishment far more, do you hear me messenger? Let this pass from her.' Wesley had been so concentrated on his thoughts that he failed to notice that Fred had continued to speak. He was aware of only his thoughts, her dying face, and his shattering spirit.

He was brought out of his haze by a phrase he had been dreading and waiting for, as Fred sniffled "Please, Wesley, why can't I stay?"

Again, as earlier, Wesley felt as if a switch had been thrown. His overwhelming grief became wrapped in a steely resolve. As he watched the glimmer of life leave Fred's eyes he whispered a quick and sharp incantation in an ancient tongue. The effect was to create a bubble around the couple. Within which nothing seemed to move, not even the dying soul. The incantation would been rendered thus, "By my Love, I bid time halt!" He now found himself in a surreal situation, looking at the face of his beloved who was not quite alive, and who had not yet passed on.

He than began the third and last spell which involved a long and precise invocation. He couldn't afford to have anything go wrong, as this was his only chance to keep the vow he made to Fred. The spell was supposed to grant the caster an audience with The Powers that Be, though Wesley was uncertain why the message had included it. He, Fred, and the rest of the gang worked for the Powers apparent enemies, those entities that controlled the law firm, the Senior Partners.

He knew it had worked when he felt a slight pull at his soul, a blinding pain in his body, and a final thought before his spirit was ripped into a higher plain of existence 'I pray that I can save her.'

He realized the transfer was complete when the pain stopped and he became aware of his surroundings. He was a in featureless cloudy sea of grey. He was still taking in the almost nothing when a voice spoke and echoed around him. "Mortal, you are not permitted here, why have you come?"

Wesley felt relieved now, he was talking to someone who could help, "I was given a message that included a way to enter this place, and potentially save the life of one Winifred Burkle, who was infected with an Old One."

The previous voice was joined by others who shouted as one. "We sent no such message! And we care not for this single insignificant life, Illyria will be a great asset to our plans."

Wesley railed back "How can you call her life irrelevant, she has aided your Champion in the fight against evil. How can Illyria be an asset?" Within, Wesley was seething at their callous disregard for Fred.

The Powers rejoined "How an old one can help us is no concern of yours. Fighting evil is not the goal, maintaining the balance between good and evil is our paramount objective, too much of either and the world falls into chaos."

Wesley's hopes evaporated at this point "So you will not help me?" He had resigned himself to the inevitable, of going back to his body and watching the horror of Fred's death and his failure, when he heard a new, singular, sure, and a startlingly familiar voice.

"Wesley, these losers won't help you, but I will if I can." Wesley turned and saw the form of a young woman wreathed in light. Wesley smiled, his hope and resolve re-emerging.

"Hey, Cordelia."