Title: Living in the Now
Author: babies stole my dingo (agilebrit)
Length: Flashfic (under 500 words)
Disclaimer: Joss is the genius behind these characters; I am but a lowly follower. I make no money from any of this, so please don't sue me.
Written for: LJ Community FirstLines1000 Challenge #30.
Notes: Another post-NFA Spike/Illyria fic.
Dreaming about things that could never be was not easy, Illyria knew. Wesley had never accepted her; even at the end he had wanted the other, the shell. Angel had seen her as a threat, Gunn as a usurper.
Therefore, it was probably well that she had escaped the alley with Spike. He alone, of all of them, had accepted the death of the Burkle persona and moved on. None of them would have deigned to comfort her after she awoke from yet another nightmare wherein she was left alone in this world while the human vermin that inhabited it pointed and stared and laughed. A world where the others had abandoned her not in death, but out of disgust and anger. A world where she was powerless to strike back. A world where the shell gave her accusing looks, where she felt bad because of what she had to do to break through into this dimension.
They would have said it was only proper. She had been a thing of nightmares, and now the nightmares stalked her sleep and left her wakeful and exhausted. Bad dreams were something she could not fight with fists - not to mention that the fact that she had to sleep at all was vexing in and of itself. The Mutari generator had weakened her in more than one way.
She awakened in Spike's arms again, thrashing and screaming, while he stroked her hair and murmured soothing nothings into her ear. The back of her hand connected with his eye before she came to herself, but he didn't react beyond a slight flinch. She shoved him away and composed herself; he lit a cigarette. "'Nother nightmare, pet?"
She growled. "Do not call me that. Impudent half-breed."
"Saucy wench." He flicked the ash off his smoke. "I miss them too."
She looked away. "I did not think it would be thus. Their going should not have left such a...hole. I am Illyria, God-King of the Primordium. I have no need of mortal companionship."
"Good thing I'm not mortal, then. In a manner of speaking, anyway." He cocked a sardonic eyebrow and took another drag.
She smacked him, but not hard. "Is it time for a patrol? I wish to go hit things that are not you."
"Sun's been down a couple of hours. Suppose we can head out."
"I would enjoy that."
She could no longer control time and space. Desiring to change the past would do no good. The future stretched ahead of her and Spike like a long, dark tunnel with noise and pain and death at the end. How long would they be able to elude the assassins of the Wolf, the Ram, and the Hart? She did not know.
For now, she would live in the moment with her half-breed. It seemed to work for him.