ILLYRIA: Wesley. (inspects his wound) This wound is mortal.
WESLEY: (he touches his wound) Aren't we all? (looks at her, smiles) It was
good... that you came.
ILLYRIA: I killed all mine, and I was...
WESLEY: Concerned?
ILLYRIA: I think so. But I can't help. You'll be dead within moments.
WESLEY: I know.
ILLYRIA: Would you like me to lie to you now?
WESLEY: (looks at her weakly) Yes. (closes his eyes in a slow, pained blink)
Thank you. Yes. (opens his eyes to see Fred's face, her hand stroking his
cheek) Hello there.
FRED: (trying to smile through her tears) Oh, Wesley. My Wesley.
WESLEY: Fred. (whispering) I've missed you.
FRED: (kisses his lips twice gently, sniffles, kisses his forehead) It's gonna
be OK. It won't hurt much longer, and then you'll be where I am. (crying)
We'll be together.
WESLEY: I-I love you.
FRED: (smiles through her tears) I love you. My love. Oh, my love.