Summary: On the way to Drogyn, Angel tells Spike "To Hell With the World" and that's what he meant.

Spike and Angel carry Illyria's essence across the green grass, the grass decaying immediately. "Are we going to be able to live with this? Half of the bloody world is dead mate." Spike said, pulling out a cigarette. Angel just grunted with a nod. "I'll live with it. I couldn't save Cordelia and the only way to do it was to kill her. Look how well that went. But Fred? There is a way and this is it. She wanted to live. I know she did."

Angel stated. They took the sarcophagus to the deeper well, lifting it over the bridge. It fell down with a quiet woosh, Angel and Spiked watched it fall until they couldn't see it any longer. Angel and Spike looked at one another before leaving.

WH

"Wes." Angel called, making his way behind him. They stood outside Fred's hospital room, just watching her sleep. "200 million people died." Wesley said softly. "I would've thought more. I..couldn't do it. I couldn't just sit there and watch as that thing crawled up inside of her and.." Angel trailed off glancing at his friend.

"Me neither. Do you think we did the right thing? Will she be happy?" Wesley asked. Angel looked away from him and towards Fred. She was coming around from the way her heart spiked up some.

"Yes. She's alive and with you. With us. She'll be okay." They walked inside, Spike and Gunn behind them. She blinked open her brown eyes and stared at them. She gave a tired smile, her lips chapped. "You did it." She whispered. She coughed a little, getting a frown out of each of her men. "Just a cough. I..it's not in me anymore. I know. I know what had to be done." She whispered hoarsely, she looked guiltily at the ceiling.

"And deep down inside, I'm glad." Nobody said a thing as they watched her process what was done to keep her alive. Spike patted her hand gently. Her eyes were closing once again, and she was about to dose off again. "We all are pet."