Title: As Time Runs Through
Author: Foxhunt2blue
Summary: In that one moment everything he 
knew to be an illusion melted away. It was 
then that the lie was enough to carry his soul 
on its next journey.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Wes/Fred
Spoilers: Major Spoilers for the AtS Finale
"Do Note Fade Away"
Disclaimer: Our wonderful Joss created 
them I had nothing to do with it---wish I 
had. :-(
Feedback: Please feed the pathetic creature
that is me. I only search for a happy ending.
E-mail: foxhunter2blue@y...
Author's Note: After I was done bawling I
told myself I had to write this one. If only for
my sanity.

****
I dream of rain
I dream of gardens in the desert sand
I wake in pain
I dream of love as time runs through my hand

Sting ~~ "Desert Rose"

****

He had known from that moment in Angel's
office that he might die tonight, but it hadn't
made a difference one way or another. For
him it was his final stand---his destiny.

Life truly held no meaning for him anymore.

Not this life.

Everything had crumbled around him into
dust. Each thing that had held meaning for
him was gone.

His faith in himself.

His faith in his friends.

His faith in his books.

But more than anything his belief in love had
faded away. His heart had caved in on it-
self with the death of the one woman---the
only woman---he had ever truly loved.

Perhaps if Winifred had only passed it would
have been easier, but she hadn't. She had been
used as a vessel. A way for an ancient demon
to be reborn. 

He had never had a chance to grieve in a 
proper manner. Her body was never laid to 
rest as a true hero was deserving of and he 
was reminded of that each day. Reminded 
by Illyria's presence in what passed for his 
life now.

So when given the choice to walk away or 
to possibly sacrifice his life for a fight he had 
dedicated his existence to there was no other 
answer he could have given. His life had be-
come one of denial, fear, and lose so to do 
this final thing, to sacrifice himself, and to make 
his life have some meaning was all he had left. 

There was nothing else he could do---of that 
he had been sure.

So when the blade had sank into his belly he
knew that he would not be in that alley along-
side his companions.

Falling to the floor he felt her arms around
him halting his collapse and lowering him to
the marble floor. Her voice soft and almost
emotionless telling him the wound was a
mortal wound. Then he had heard some-
thing else in her voice, something that he---
for just moment---thought his imagination.

"Would you like me to lie to you now?"

Wes looked up into those wide inhumanly
blue eyes and he saw the same thing in them
that he had heard in her voice. He knew that
it was almost over and the idea of possibly
never seeing her face weighed heavy on his
wounded soul. 

He had never asked himself if he believed in
heaven or hell. Of course he had been raised
to believe in the unbelieveable, but to believe
in another life beyond this one had never really
crossed his thoughts. In his life he had never
even questioned if he had true faith in what 
lay beyond this mortal world.

"Yes...thank you...yes," he whispered as his
vision began to fade.

In that one moment everything he knew to be 
an illusion melted away. It was then that the 
lie was enough to carry his soul on its next 
journey.

Her face was just as he remembered it. Smil-
ing weakly he hoped---perhaps even knew---
that his life had not been in vain. For in his own 
lose and in his death he had given an emotion-
less, ancient creature what millions of years 
had not been able, too.

He had given her the greatest gift.

He had given her a soul.

So few words were spoken, but so much said
as he felt his heart slow, his life blood slip 
through his fingers---each drop one less min-
ute of time on earth.

The last thing he felt as the darkness closed in
were the warm---very human---tears on his 
face.

****

"Sunshine...you are my sunshine...,"

Wesley opened his eyes blinking as the soft 
melodic song reached his ears. For a moment 
he thought perhaps it had all been a nightmare 
brought on by one to many shots of whiskey. 
 
Taking a deep breath he sat up looking around 
and trying to get his bearings.

He was sitting amidst a pile of vividly colored 
cushions plush and comforting. His gaze moved 
down to take in the loose soft cotton slacks 
and shirt he wore and he frowned in confusion. 
Not something that he would have chose to 
wear, but comfortable neither the less.

Pulling himself to his feet he took in his sur-
roundings and smiled. He was standing in a 
gazebo something perhaps one would see in 
the countryside. White painted wood and 
climbing roses of every color that one could 
imagine. Their velvet petals seeming to glow
in the soft late afternoon light---a light that 
gave everything that soft glow.

"...you make me happy...,"

Wes turned his head at the sound of the gentle 
voice that seemed to call to him. Perhaps this 
was a dream, he thought, as he moved across 
the polished wooden floor to the archway 
where steps led down to a smooth stone path-
way. A soft breeze danced along his face as
he lifted his gaze to a sky of crystalline blue. 
 
The scent of roses---sweet and alluring---
surrounded him as the singing changed to 
humming.

He knew this voice, he thought, as he follow-
ed the path down a gently sloping hill. As he 
reached the bottom of the hill he stopped his 
heart aching at the sight before him.

She sat in the lush emerald grass dressed in 
a soft white sundress, her legs crossed indian-
style beneath the skirt, and a lap of daisies. Her 
dark hair swirled out behind her on the gentle 
breeze as she hummed softly. Nimble slender 
fingers worked diligently as she wove the daisies 
into a crown. 

Tears welled in Wes' eyes as he fell to his 
knees in the grass. "Winifred?" He whisper-
ed in disbelief.

Immediately she turned, her dark eyes sparkl-
ing with joy as she stood---the daisies scatter-
ing on the breeze. "Wesley!" Moving gracefully 
she walked the few feet that seperated them 
and knelt in front of him, her smile widening.

"Winifred...I don't understand...you...,"

Her hand lifted one slender finger pressing 
against his trembling lips. "Hush...," she whis-
pered as her finger traced his lips. "It's okay. 
Promise---scouts honor!"

Her other hand rose flashing two fingers as 
she laughed at the look of disbelief on Wes' 
face. Body trembling he lifted his arms pulling 
her close as the tears fell down his face. He 
peppered desperate kisses all over her face
as she giggled.

"That tickles Wesley...," she gasp falling back 
into the fragrant grass taking him with her. Roll-
ing him over she looked down into his eyes.

"Is this perhaps a dream?" Wes whispered as 
he stroked her arms---her silken hair swirling 
around him---as she leaned close. Her lips 
grazed his in a sweet kiss. 

"No, dream my love---my Wesley."

He sighed pulling her close burrowing his face 
in her smooth silken neck. "Then what?" He 
asked as he moved his lips in gentle kisses 
along her throat.

"The final gift. A gift worthy of a true hero---
my hero."

Pulling back he looked up with wide blue eyes. 

"Heaven then perhaps?"

"It is now," Fred whispered as she leaned closer 
to claim his mouth with a deep passionate kiss. 
 
"Definitely heaven now that you are here."

****

Illyria walked into the church Wes' lifeless body 
cradled in her arms. Her gaze moved through 
the room taking in the paintings and stained 
glass finally resting on the crucifix above the 
altar.

Rain dripped off her body pooling on the marble 
floor as she moved down the main aisle to 
where candles flickered and the faint scent of 
incense rose to the arched ceiling disappear-
ing into the shadows.

As she held him close to her with one arm 
she used the other to knock away the ritual 
items from the altar. Gently she laid him down 
on the velvet drapped stone.

"May I help you?"

Turning she looked down at the small elderly 
priest.

"You are what these humans call---a priest?" 
Her head cocked as her wide eerie blue eyes 
studied the man before her.

The priest quickly crossed himself. "Yes. Yes, 
I am." He stuttered.

Illyria glanced back at Wes' body, then back 
to the priest. "Let your flock---human priest
---know that this world is soon to becomme ash. 
Let them know that only a few stand between 
them and their last breath." She turned back to 
Wes and reached out stroking his now icy 
cheek. "Prepare them priest."

Stepping down from the altar she moved past 
the priest back up the aisle. As she reached 
the door she paused and spoke. "Let them 
know that this one gave his last breath to pro-
tect them."

"Who are you?" The priests trembling voice 
drifted to her ears.

"Who I am is of no concern," she pushed 
open the door staring out into the storm, 
"...know only that as you stand by idly---un-
knowing---that we fight for you. Time runs 
through your fingers, human. Like water flows 
from this world's sky. Do not let his death 
be in vain, priest."

Taking two more steps she looked up at the 
sky, rain drenching her once more. She could 
feel them coming---soon the battle would begin. 
She turned at the gentle touch on her shoulder, 
her eyes drifting open to study the elderly priest's
face.

"Who was he?" The priest looked into her eyes
with a gentle sadness.

"He was a hero. He was...," she paused look-
ing away, "...my Wesley."

Running into the storm she headed for a des-
tiny she had not chose, a destiny that seemed 
still yet strange. As she ran the rain washed away 
the tears of grief that she---Illyria---had never 
known in her timeless life.

Tears of grief that she did not understand.

The End