Author: Jedi Nic (JediNic@bigfoot.com)
8 March 2002
Spoilers: Season 3 - "Sleep Tight"
Disclaimer: The characters and situations contained within are the
property of Joss et al.
Summary: Wes thinks.
Distribution: List archives
Notes: Tiny ficlet, inspired by the most recent episode.
Well, that didn't exactly turn out how I'd planned it.
Kind of an understatement, really. I'm standing here, well, floating,
to be precise, and looking at a body on the ground. My body. My body
with a surprising amount of blood still pooling around my head even
though it's quite obvious that I'm dead.
How's that for a complete screw up, Dad?
I wonder how long I've been lying here. There. You know what I mean.
How long does it take the spirit to leave the body, for cognizant
thought to form and actually realise that one has passed from the realm
of the living into the dead? In all my studies I never thought to
study that particular fact. Now I wish I had.
But I suppose it doesn't matter, now, does it? I'm dead and Connor's
alive and the whole world is going to hell because of a prophecy and
there's not a thing I can do to stop it.
Don't know why I bothered, really.
There's a noise and I lift my head, staring in the direction where
there should be sirens but there's not. I expect someone will be along
eventually to find what remains of me. The last thing I want is for my
corpse to be eaten by rats. What is it they used to say? Live fast,
die young, and leave a good looking corpse?
And now I'm quoting clichés. I suspect this whole death thing has done
strange things my thought processes. Still, I admit I do make quite a
good looking corpse. If you can ignore the blood, that is. They
should be able to fix me up without too much trouble for the funeral.
Well, that particular thought gave me a chill.
Funeral, I can see it now, with the people weeping around my grave and
unable to believe I'm gone.
...who would go? Certainly not my father. Most of my family doesn't
even know where I am, which perhaps says more about me than about them,
And then there's - no, there's no one. Not even Cordy would forgive
me. As for....
(i can't believe this is happening to me how can I be dead this can't
be real all i ever wanted to do was the right thing)
...oh god, I don't want to die.
Not like this. Because it's so cold and totally alone and it's dark
and no one's coming.
There's still time, isn't there? Look, the blood is still trickling
from my neck and that means my heart's still doing something. I might
not be breathing anymore (breathe, Wesley, dammit!) but I'm here, I'm
not leaving this body until I'm forced to move on and then even then
I'm going to fight it.
Gunn, you were supposed to come back for me.
Something hits me, it's nothing I can see, but it's a substantial blow
of cold and attached to the sensation is the growing dread, and
something is whispering in my ear that it's time to go.
Are those footsteps?
Something's pounding in my ears, it's a wind, but nothing's moving.
Certainly not the body on the ground. Not a door, not the random dust
that should be skittering across the ground and I feel the *pull*
that's calling me and dragging me away and I shouldn't fear it but I
do. Maybe this is what happens when no one cares. Because I still
hoped, I wanted him to stop me. He knew me. I thought he loved me,
The blood stops.
No one's coming.