don't make me say goodbye
Wesley sat in the dimly lit room, watching the bed and Fred's frail pain-wracked form lying prone upon it. He knew in his heart that she only had a few hours left, at most. She'd already said her final goodbyes to the others and he'd dutifully asked them all to leave. Fred's parents had protested strongly but he'd done his best to remain firm as per Fred's own wishes.
All that was left to do was to wait for Willow to finish her preparations. And then...he would have to carry out the hardest thing he'd ever faced in his life.
For brief moments, in the silence, he sometimes fancied that she was asleep, at peace for a while. But then her eyelids would flutter, or she'd make a soft whimpering noise and he'd realise that she was still conscious, still suffering unbearable agony while Illyria's infection spread to every cell of her ravaged body. She could barely move now, nor do anything but lie helpless and wait for the inevitable.
Something tugged at his memory. A speech Fred had once made about destiny being 'evitable'. He smiled and almost chuckled out loud to himself, but laughter was so close to tears right now that he couldn't allow himself any kind of emotional release for fear he'd not be able to stop. Not be able to concentrate on what needed to be done. He pressed his hand to his mouth and looked away for a moment. Tried not to disturb her. Perhaps she was resting. It was an illusion he couldn't seem to completely dispel from his thoughts.
Still, he watched and listened for every laboured breath she made, to be sure she was still holding on and hadn't yet slipped away from him in the quiet.
All that was left to do was to wait for Willow to finish her preparations. And then...he would have to carry out the hardest thing he'd ever faced in his life.
For brief moments, in the silence, he sometimes fancied that she was asleep, at peace for a while. But then her eyelids would flutter, or she'd make a soft whimpering noise and he'd realise that she was still conscious, still suffering unbearable agony while Illyria's infection spread to every cell of her ravaged body. She could barely move now, nor do anything but lie helpless and wait for the inevitable.
Something tugged at his memory. A speech Fred had once made about destiny being 'evitable'. He smiled and almost chuckled out loud to himself, but laughter was so close to tears right now that he couldn't allow himself any kind of emotional release for fear he'd not be able to stop. Not be able to concentrate on what needed to be done. He pressed his hand to his mouth and looked away for a moment. Tried not to disturb her. Perhaps she was resting. It was an illusion he couldn't seem to completely dispel from his thoughts.
Still, he watched and listened for every laboured breath she made, to be sure she was still holding on and hadn't yet slipped away from him in the quiet.