Title: With Grace, There Go I
Author: Gillian Silverlight
Distribution: My site: http://www.homestead.com/gilliansspikelair/, those that already have permission to post my fic, all others please ask.
Disclaimer: They belong to Joss. I just play with them.
Summary: It’s the end of the world, as we know it. (Trite, but true) THAT scene.
Rating: PG-13
The pain of the blade as it passed through his flesh was sudden, surprising.
Then for long moments, there was no pain, only the realization that the knife was inside of him. He couldn’t think, couldn’t feel, there was only time and space and understanding.
That changed only moments later, as the hand twisted the blade.
He felt it cutting, tearing, pain made of fire and ice raced along each nerve ending. Gathering that fire into his hand, he threw it, thrusting the demon away, into the far wall. Then he crumpled slowly to the floor as the agony that only seconds before had been unbearable, was now excruciating, flared white-hot to burn him from the inside out, leaving him numb, his mind floating beside him. It whispered in his ear, ‘I’m dying’.
She was beside him. He heard her words, knew he spoke to her, but in the instant the sounds fell from his mouth, he didn’t know what they had been. Her gloved hand touched him and he felt the sadness, the confusion glide from that touch, to him.
The air rippled slightly around her, to his eyes, the lights growing ever more dim, and she touched him again. He felt the warmth of her skin slide softly along his face, felt her kiss on his lips again.
He struggled to pull his mind, his thoughts together, “I love you”.
“I love you too, my Wesley, my love.
He felt the burning splash of moisture where the tear slide down her face to fall from the tip of her nose to his arm, moments before the light of the room vanished.
She disappeared, the lights dimmed to darkness, the room disappeared from around him and he floated… Free of pain, free of worries, free of his body. His consciousness saw her lower his head to the floor. Saw her stand and turn toward the demon, but couldn’t hear their exchange of words.
In once swift movement, he felt her surge forward, transforming as she went, her fist passing through the demon’s head, shattering it. Her rage and grief were palatable in the air around him, around her.
She came back to the discarded husk of himself and lifted him gently in her leather-covered arms, “I understand now what you have felt. How deep the anger, the sadness, the helplessness have been. I feel it inside of me. Part of it is her’s, but much of it is mine. I didn’t not know this is what it could be like when you spoke of hope and love. Now there is only love… and loss. You are gone from me and have taken my hope, even as I unknowingly took yours…”
She carried his body outside into the pouring rain, to a hillside, close by a tree. Laying him carefully on the ground, she dug her hands into the earth, pulling great muddy clods of it free. It was not long before she had sufficient space, and taking the silken hanging she’d ripped from the wall, she wrapped him carefully in it.
It was not logical for her; it was a human emotion, but she could not bear the thought of leaving him alone where he’d died, or of seeing the earth upon him.
Gently lowering him into the raw opening of the ground, she pulled back the covering from his face once more, pressing her lips to his again. “I will do all I must, my Wesley. I will not allow your passing to be wasted. As she… as she did, I have discovered that… that I feel love for you.”
Kissing him once more, she covered his face, now washed free of the blood that had marred it, by the rain. Quickly she replaced the earth, rising to her feet to look down at the scar in the ground, reluctant to leave, yet knowing she must. She whispered, “I will miss you too”, then turned away.
There was an alley she must find.
Gillian Silverlight 05/20/04