"Why are you here, Angel?"

"I - I'm... not sure."

-----------

Angel walked side by side with Wesley across the wet grass, silently contemplating the answer to that repetitive question. He'd been returning here to this place whenever he could for such a long time now - has it been five years already? - that even the others were getting worried if he was alright. But he always had Wesley to walk with, even if just to keep him company and entertain a confused man.

They stopped at their usual place and Angel just stood helplessly. Wesley braved the dirt and sat down on the grass, knowing that Angel would take his time and he might as well get comfortable. Angel for his part looked lost while Wesley basked in the clean air and the caress of the unhurried wind, a smile playing on his lips as he enjoyed the sensations. A few moments later, Angel joined beside him and together they overlooked the field from the tiny hill they were currently on top of, enjoying the scene of the red-tainted sky.

"It looks like blood." Angel commented.

"Yes, I suppose it does." Wesley said softly. They sat in silence, waiting and pondering, looking peaceful as they were lost in their own thoughts.

After a while, Angel frowned as something new troubled him," I...Where is this place?"

"Somewhere." Wesley said. "I just follow wherever you take me; but the view is very beautiful."

Angel looked around on all sides before asking rather genuinely, "Why am I here?"

"Only you can answer that, Angel." Wesley said. He waited for Angel to settle back down before telling him what he needed to say, and what he should've said a long time ago.

"Angel, I can't stay anymore. I have to go, but I can't leave you like this." Thinking about the others back at the Hyperion, he added, "They're worried."

Angel turned to look at him. "Why can't you stay?" he pleaded.

Wesley sighed, "You know why."

"I swear I'll never let Spike eat Chinese near your books again."

A short burst of laughter was heard from Wesley. "Practice what you preach, Angel?" He gave him a tiny smile, but still sadness was vivid on his face. He asked again. "Do you know why you're here?"

Angel shook his head.

Wesley sighed and Angel could see just how tired he was, but not in impatience. "You can't go on like this. There's so much... You've saved so many people, but now only you can save yourself."

"I didn't save you." Angel mumbled, looking down.

"Of course you did." Wesley said. He took Angel's hand in his, forcing him to look into his eyes before continuing, "You've done it so many times I think I'm past owing you my life."

"Not when it counted." As he said this, a short shot of pain coursed through his body but just as quickly it disappeared.

"It was my decision and I knew the consequences. I just hope you'll forgive me."

"Hell, Wes, I should be the one asking for forgiveness." Angel said, quickly turning away.

"Angel, look at me." When he did, Wesley said, "You're not at fault."

"Neither are you." Angel said. He looked away. "But... it was one last time." Angel felt his heart constricting but continued, "Just that one last time and..." He squeezed Wesley's hand as visions and memories came flooding back into him, one over the other, gently coaxing him into acceptance.

Angel waited for them to gradually subside before asking softly, "Where will you be going?"

"Someplace. But I'll always be with you, Angel." Wesley let go of Angel's hand, closing his eyes momentarily before asking again.

"Do you know why you're here now?"

Angel regretted saying it, but he knew it was the truth that needed to be heard. "...Yes." He stood up and held his hand out to Wesley who took it and also helped him up. Angel looked to the small area beside him for a long time, seeing something there he never noticed before or never wanted to, before returning his gaze to Wesley.

"Goodbye, Wes."

Wesley smiled.

Angel felt Wesley cup his face and very lightly kiss him on the lips. Angel closed his eyes and let the warmth wash over him, savouring this tiny moment of happiness because he knew it will be the last; the final grace.

Angel opened his eyes and Wesley was gone.

It was over. He had finally said his goodbye. As he walked down the small hill alone, he felt the feeling of heaviness slowly dissipate with each step. Wesley will always be here, and Angel will always visit. He might not necessarily move on, but he will continue living. Angel stopped next to his car, blinking at the brightness of the morning sun. Before driving away, he looked up the hill once more to the grave of Wesley Wyndam-Pryce.