My Immortal: Between Canons: Not Fade Away.
I bring you new fic! Specifically, the first of two STANDALONE ‘Fill-in-the-Blank’ stories (one short, one long) for My Immortal. The purpose of the stories is to tie together major events in the Who- and Buffy-verses, ironing out inconsistencies, and - as I said - you need no knowledge of (or interest in) 'My Immortal' to read them.
HUGE thank you's to kathyh for the banner, and for putting up with all my e-mails.
Title: Between Canons: Not Fade Away.
Summary: What happened after the fade-to-black.
Characters: Illyria, Angel.
Rating: PG-13.
Spoilers: None.
Genre: DW/AtS crossover.
Word count: Less than 500 words.
Feedback: Always, always welcome!
The Doctor: Ten million ships on fire - the entire Dalek race wiped out in one second.
The last Dalek: And what of the Time Lords?
The Doctor: Dead. They burnt with you. The end of the last great Time War. Everyone lost.
An alley in Los Angeles. 19th May 2004.
The world is a curtain of rain and blood, through which Illyria battles the oncoming hordes. Bones and bodies break beneath her hands, and beside her the swords of the vampires slice through demon flesh with deadly precision.
Grief is still as fresh as an open wound within, her thirst for vengeance not quenched in the least by the violence she is wreaking. She wishes for this battle to be as eternal as her wrath.
And then everything stops.
[A drop of blood hangs suspended in midair. A deadly blow is frozen midstrike. A scream cut off as with a blade.]
Somewhere - somewhen - the entirety of creation trembles. And although she is far, far removed from the centre of the storm, Illyria can still sense the grandeur and finality of a nameless war with such an unthinkable outcome.
A war that has been fought outside time and space - out of all knowledge of Lower Beings. It has been hidden, even to her, until this moment, when a force, greater than any she’s known, sears across reality; burning, destroying, obliterating.
Billions of voices screaming, and then abruptly ended.
The universe shifts around her, and she feels the very foundations of the world change - irrevocably, irredeemably - as the walls between dimensions close, growing unbreachable and impenetrable.
She knows this is new, and yet the alteration is somehow eternal, timeless, come from that point beyond which she cannot see - the aftershocks hitting her like waves crashing on a beach.
The unknown and unknowable war sealed away and hidden, forever.
And the world is suddenly alone - no Power or deity will ever again be able to reach across the void in an attempt to lay claim to this human-ruled sphere.
Slowly
[it has been a fraction of a second; it has been lifetimes. Frozen time shatters like glass and a drop of blood falls on her cheek]
she once more becomes aware of the melee around her; a fight that now seems small and trivial, reminding her only of the glory and power she has lost.
Why is she here?
Turning her head she sees Angel, the destroyer of the Circle of the Black Thorn, and she knows that the machine he sought to halt for just a moment has been broken for good. Was this the intention of the Powers? Did They know? Did They choose this moment on purpose?
He looks up and stills when he sees her, immobile in the fray.
But before he can open his mouth, she answers the question he doesn’t know to ask.
“You win.”
(Author's notes here.)
HUGE thank you's to kathyh for the banner, and for putting up with all my e-mails.
Title: Between Canons: Not Fade Away.
Summary: What happened after the fade-to-black.
Characters: Illyria, Angel.
Rating: PG-13.
Spoilers: None.
Genre: DW/AtS crossover.
Word count: Less than 500 words.
Feedback: Always, always welcome!
The Doctor: Ten million ships on fire - the entire Dalek race wiped out in one second.
The last Dalek: And what of the Time Lords?
The Doctor: Dead. They burnt with you. The end of the last great Time War. Everyone lost.
An alley in Los Angeles. 19th May 2004.
The world is a curtain of rain and blood, through which Illyria battles the oncoming hordes. Bones and bodies break beneath her hands, and beside her the swords of the vampires slice through demon flesh with deadly precision.
Grief is still as fresh as an open wound within, her thirst for vengeance not quenched in the least by the violence she is wreaking. She wishes for this battle to be as eternal as her wrath.
And then everything stops.
[A drop of blood hangs suspended in midair. A deadly blow is frozen midstrike. A scream cut off as with a blade.]
Somewhere - somewhen - the entirety of creation trembles. And although she is far, far removed from the centre of the storm, Illyria can still sense the grandeur and finality of a nameless war with such an unthinkable outcome.
A war that has been fought outside time and space - out of all knowledge of Lower Beings. It has been hidden, even to her, until this moment, when a force, greater than any she’s known, sears across reality; burning, destroying, obliterating.
Billions of voices screaming, and then abruptly ended.
The universe shifts around her, and she feels the very foundations of the world change - irrevocably, irredeemably - as the walls between dimensions close, growing unbreachable and impenetrable.
She knows this is new, and yet the alteration is somehow eternal, timeless, come from that point beyond which she cannot see - the aftershocks hitting her like waves crashing on a beach.
The unknown and unknowable war sealed away and hidden, forever.
And the world is suddenly alone - no Power or deity will ever again be able to reach across the void in an attempt to lay claim to this human-ruled sphere.
Slowly
[it has been a fraction of a second; it has been lifetimes. Frozen time shatters like glass and a drop of blood falls on her cheek]
she once more becomes aware of the melee around her; a fight that now seems small and trivial, reminding her only of the glory and power she has lost.
Why is she here?
Turning her head she sees Angel, the destroyer of the Circle of the Black Thorn, and she knows that the machine he sought to halt for just a moment has been broken for good. Was this the intention of the Powers? Did They know? Did They choose this moment on purpose?
He looks up and stills when he sees her, immobile in the fray.
But before he can open his mouth, she answers the question he doesn’t know to ask.
“You win.”
(Author's notes here.)