Blue Moon Rising: Fanfic: "Our Valhalla" by Hjmugillecuty

RATING: FRC [GF]

SUMMARY: Wesley's not alone anymore.

SPOILERS: The entire series

PAIRING: Wes/Fred

DISCLAIMER: These characters do not belong to me; they belong to their original creators (Mutant Enemy, the WB and others) and I make no profit.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I am still working on "What Happens After" but after the finale I had to write this. Archive permission granted as always to Whole New World and Blue Moon Rising. Enjoy.

"Wes, Wes sweetheart, can you hear me?"

Wesley Wyndam-Pryce heard his name through some kind of cloud. He was confused and disoriented as his last memory was bleeding to death on the floor of Vail's dining room. Dying in what he desperately wanted to believe were Fred's arms, although his rational mind knew it was an illusion, a lie perpetrated by Illyria in an effort to give him comfort. Now he found himself in a dense fog, the pain from his wound fading as he began to search for the source of the voice. He blinked as a bright light came into view and then settled around a figure, a figure Wesley recognized.

"Wesley, my love, do you know me?" The figure knelt down beside him and it was Fred. She reached out her hand in concern and he pushed her away. Confusion was visible on her face. "Wesley?"

"It's not her. It's another lie, another illusion. None of them are her." Wesley sobbed his head in his hands.

"Wesley, it's me, it's Fred." She tried to comfort him but he kept pushing her away.

"No! She was destroyed. Her soul burned in the fires of Illyria's resurrection. She is nowhere."

"Oh Wesley," Fred laughed, a gentle brook that began to calm him. "Do you truly believe a soul is such a weak thing? My body could be taken or destroyed but my spirit and my soul are far stronger than that. A soul can never be lost in that manner. I have been here, waiting for you to either bring me back or join me. And once the purpose was explained to me, I understood why. But it is me, Wesley. I didn't imagine that the pain I experienced waiting for you could be surpassed by your own, but I see that it was. Please, it is me and I am waiting here for you." She pleaded.

Wesley slowly lifted his head and reached out to lightly touch her cheek. "I want to believe." He muttered.

"Wes, how can I prove it to you?"

"You cannot. The illusion has her face, her memories, and her manner. It has all of her."

"Not all." Fred grasped his face between her hands and kissed him, lightly at first but then more desperately as he held her head to his. They pulled apart slowly. "Not my love."

Wesley began sobbing into her neck. "Winifred, it's you. My Fred." She caressed his back softly. "I love you, I love you," the two of them kept repeating until Wesley's tears had stalled.

"Come," Fred said, "the others are waiting for us."

"Others?" Wesley asked. "I was beginning to hope this was our own private heaven."

"No, love. This is for those who have fallen fighting the darkness. In a way, it's our own Valhalla. We knew you were coming, so the others insisted I meet you alone."

"Are you expecting more today?" Wesley queried, remembering his friends and their fight.

"Not that we have been made aware of. We hoped for Lindsay, but Lilah invoked his contract and took him away. We had hoped his recent actions would save him, but it was too little, too late."

She began to lead him through the fog.

"Who are the others?"

"Jenny, Larry, and Doyle have been here the longest. Darla, Alonna, and George were next. Anya and some of the slayers joined them last year as did Jonathan. And of course, Cordy. She's the one who explained the plan to me and helped me understand why I had to die."

"Can she explain it to me?"

"Wesley, think about tonight. Against the Black Thorn you would have had one less warrior…possibly two because you would have focused on keeping me safe, not on fulfilling your mission. Vail, Sebassis, Iggy, the Senator, the Fell Brethren, they are all dead, and I don't believe that the plan could have succeeded with me and not Illyria."

"Did it truly succeed? Are the others…?" Wesley began.

"We don't know. It was touch and go for Charles, but no one was sent to welcome him. And the battle still rages."

Wesley reached out and grasped Fred's hand. "And what do we do?"

"We rest from our labors. Then we help the Powers in the fight. We serve where we can, when we can. Most importantly, we continue to fight. But we can fight together again. We can be together again."

"And that is what matters." Wesley stopped and kissed Fred. She pulled away slowly and looked to the right.

"There it is." She pointed. Wesley followed her finger and saw a beautiful terrace, brightly lit and surrounded by gardens. There was a building behind it, large with many windows. "That is where we sleep. Our room is ready."

"Our room?"

"If that's okay?" Fred asked hesitantly.

"It's wonderful!"

"I hoped you'd see it that way." She smiled and began pulling him forward. "Come on, everyone's waiting." She waved at a figure that had appeared on the terrace. They crossed the garden, arriving at the terrace in time for Wesley to catch Cordy jumping into his arms. The reunion was lengthy and joyous, and no one was called away that night.

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