Liliaeth (liliaeth) wrote,

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'And then...' ficathon fic: Waking up in Never Never Land

Might not entirely fit skipthedemon's assignment, I hope it does, but sorry, I just couldn't leave out Gunn. After Spike, he's my fave Angel char.

Title: Waking up in Never Never Land
Rating: None
Pairings: none
Spoilers: AtS S5 up to NFA, Highlander up to Endgame (AU, Richie survived Ahriman)
Fandom: AtS/HL
Disclaimer don't own either Angel or HL chars
Summary: After NFA, the survivors travel to safety (Angel/Highlander crossover)
Warnings: Crossover

The road crawled along a wiry path as Gunn drove an old yellow SUV down the way to Main Street. Connor was trying to sleep, his hair all fussed up, eyes wet with tears. He still hadn't told them what had happened when he'd tried to return home.

Illyria had planted herself in the backseat, taking up half the space and refusing to budge. She was the only one of the back's occupants that actually showed up in the rearview mirror, sitting there, as majestically as one could in the back of a car.

Next to her, the other two passengers huddled under a blanket, that covered them completely. Sun was still up and they hadn't dared shield the windows. It would have called too much attention to them. As if two guys hiding under a blanket and a girl wearing some weird sort of cat suit complete with blue hair didn't fill that job already.

Gunn didn't even dare chuckle when he realized that Spike had fallen asleep; probably due to his injuries; and was currently using Angel as a pillow. Gunn wished he could see Angel's face in response to that. Smelling a bit of a burn coming from the back, Gunn had a good guess why Angel wasn't trying to push the younger vampire away from him.

"We'll be in Seacouver in no time flat. Anywhere specific that I should be heading for?"

No answer; the first hotel they'd run across it'd be then.

Sun would go down soon. A few more hours that they'd have to hide, look for shadows just so his two buddies wouldn't burn up if he had to turn a bit too fast. The mere idea of vampires as friends, once upon a time it would have revolted him. Sometimes it still did. But then, who was he to say anything? They'd barely gotten out of the alleyway alive, or undead as the case might be, in fact Gunn was pretty sure he shouldn't have gotten out as alive as he did. He distinctly remembered loosing tons of blood, dying and then...

Yet here he was, one of the only two whose heart was still beating in the whole damn car, and he wasn't even sure what had happened to him.

Then of course, as expected over ten hours ago, the car sputtered out, dying slow and painfully with a final sigh and a snort as if to say 'fuck you'. Gunn got out of the car, looking under the hood. Illyria followed him.

"Why did you stop?"

"The car quit on us."

"Then unquit it. If any of my minions had dared to consider fail on me I would have ripped its guts out, feeding on the marrow..."

Gunn ignored her, trying to find what was wrong, suddenly a harsh fist hit the engine. Illyria's hand went right through the metal, destroying it and breaking through the bottom of the car.

"I am not some mere mortal, I am a god and I do not wish to be ignored. No matter how pleasing to the eye you are. Do not forget that ...human."
Gunn just stared at the engine, too baffled to yell at her. How the hell were they supposed to get out of here now? What were they supposed to do?

He just got behind the steering wheel; sinking down in his seat, his head dropped down on his hands. This was too much. Connor lay still, Gunn looked at him, a trickle of blood was starting to form under his shirt. Spike was still out as well, Angel was moving, asking him what was wrong, but the younger vampire hadn't moved in hours. They had to get help.

He didn't realize what Illyria was doing till she stood in the middle of the road, her hand stretched out as if to stop anyone that dared to pass their way. Gunn shot up, ready to stop her as a guy on a motorcycle headed their way. Illyria would survive a hit like that, the driver probably wouldn't.

Pain pierced through his head, shocking his synapses worse than when the doc had entered all that legalese in his brain. It hurt, his nerves were on fire, make it stop, please.

The biker turned his wheel to the side, fighting his speed to avoid her, slipping over the road. His tight leathers hopefully protecting his fall. Gunn stared at him, their eyes met and the pain faded away to the background of his brain. Gunn ran up to the man, helping him out from under the bike. Standing around rather helpless, with no clue what to do as the biker removed his helmet.

It was just a boy, little older than Connor. The kid returned his look and stared at the car, probably wondering what the hell they could have hit in the middle of the road.
"You ok pal?"

The boy nodded, looking first at him, then at the car, then at Illyria . Then he smiled.
"Whoa momma."

Illyria tilted her head.
"I do not understand your meaning Tadriga." Ta what?

"Just expressing appreciation." The boy was ogling her intensely. Gunn couldn't help glare at him. How he managed to keep doing that under Illyria 's fierce glare, Gunn had no idea.

"This one is lusting for me, I can feel it. I demand your aid." Their very own Illyria, blunt as ever.

"Ask and you shall receive." The boy smiled. A true charmer this one.
"Car trouble?"

Gunn nodded. Refusing to look at what remained of it. The boy grabbed his phone, calling for help. Gunn knew he should stop him, but he just sat there. He could smell the blood under his clothes and hear the pained breathing of Spike in the back; when he did breathe. Seemed even blondiebear had his limits to how long he'd keep it up with his lungs stuffed with blood.

They'd survived the apocalypse and here they were, five lone survivors of the storm, unsure how long their luck would last. Their only hope to outrun the enemy before the enemy got tired of lying in wait.

It couldn't be soon enough.

An hour later they were at a hospital, the sun went down just in time for the ambulance to arrive. Gunn tried to stop them when they pulled Spike on a gurney, but Angel was too concerned over Connor to think about the risks. It seemed Angel had some injuries as well, but he hid them, refusing to let any of the paramedics near him. Gunn had to give up, hoping to get Spike out of trouble as soon as they got to the hospital.

He nearly laughed at the doctor's emotions as she tried to tell him their friend was dead.
What a surprise, Spike had only been dead for the past century or so. The only thing that truly shocked him; was the fact that Spike still hadn't woken up. They had to get him out of there before some doctor decided to do an autopsy.

Richie, the young biker that nearly crashed into Fred...into Illyria was still standing there. A sad look in his eyes. Who knows what Illyria was doing. Or... and there she was, dressed in a nice floral dress, her long brown hair draped over her shoulders. So beautiful, so soft, so Fred. He got furious.

"Don't look like her damn it. You're not her. Stop looking like her."
Illyria just ignored him, glaring down the hall.

"Will no one stop those infants from squealing, their constant blather rings in my ears. Paining my senses. In my days many of them would have been offered on my altars, their hearts ripped out and handed as gifts to please my underlings. Their..."

Gunn just raised his arms and left her behind, gone to find Angel sitting in the waiting room while the doctors worked on Connor. The kid hadn't even told them he had a gun wound that had only just started healing. He'd been claiming it was just a scrape.


"He's in the morgue, we'll have to get him out of there soon, before he wakes up."
And before they start asking us questions about his injuries, about...

Angel just nodded.
"If he wakes up." he muttered. Gunn wasn't even sure whether it was really concern coming from the vampire or not. Weird, he doubted Angel would ever even admit it if it were.

A guy was looking at them from the corner, staring at Angel, Gunn glared back. The guy disappeared. God, his head was breaking at the seams again, it hurt, hurt so bad. Angel grabbed his head for a second, clearly hurt. Gunn had seen the dragon's flames hit him only hours earlier. He was mostly healed, you wouldn't even notice he'd been grazed only so shortly ago. But still...

Richie stood in front of him, clearly not sure what to say, or do. Illyria, where was she? He looked up just in time to see her heading down the halls. Gunn ran after her, leaving the young stranger behind with Angel. Angel quickly followed.

"Illyria stop!"

But the goddess didn't follow commands; the only one that had had anything to say about her was Wesley, and he was dead. Gunn could still barely believe it.

She stormed through the doors, down the stairs, steady, slow going, but unstoppable. Gunn grabbed her shoulder, desperate to stop her even remotely in time. Illyria just pulled out of his grip and stormed through the last doors.

The morgue and Spike spread out on one of the examining trays. Damn, they were just in time. The doctor had already cut off most of the clothes, remains of jeans and a black tee where already in a bag on the side. She was holding a knife, ready to start cutting.

"Release my pet now."

The doctor stared at the young woman standing in the door as if she were a mental case. Then Illyria 's clothes changed, along with her hair, her eyes, turning back into the blue goddess that was her normal look. The not-Fred look.

"I will not be refused."

The doctor was about to protest when the bleached menace finally decided it was wakey wakey time. His eyes opened and his hand grabbed hold of the doctor's wrist before the blade could get anywhere near him. The doctor stepped back, her eyes wide open.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't know you were one of them."

One of who, a demon? Guess not everyone was as gullible as they'd like to believe. She went on to a closet, grabbing some medical scrubs and throwing them at Spike. The vampire didn't even leer at her, his legs close together, arms around his chest. Damn he had to be close to death.

Gunn quickly gave him his coat. Noticing that Spike's own coat was in the litterbag with the rest of his stuff. The vampire just took it, pulling it on over the scrubs.

Richie stood in the door. Stock still, as if this was nothing new for him. He just kept his eye on Spike, a bit weary it seemed. Angel glared at him, clearly expecting questions he didn't want to answer.

"Don't worry, Anne knows about us, she won't tell."

Won't tell what? Gunn was going crazy, but thanked his lucky gods for the easy out. The lurker from before was staring at them as they left the morgue. What? Another one who knew? Was there anyone in this town who didn't?

Spike nearly fell as he tried to get up. Angel lost patience with his attempts to move and grabbed his arm, pulling the younger vampire along with him. Spike tried to snicker and spat out blood. Gunn grabbed his other arm, helping him up.

"Richie? Thanks."

The boy just smiled after them as they left. Spike between them, Illyria in their wake.
No one looked up, strange.

Gunn was starting to feel straight at home.

Done~ for now

Name: skipthedemon
Pairing(s) - optional: gen is fine, but any of the survivors may be paired also.
Characters to include: Spike, Angel, Illyria. Scoobies may come in if they don't steal the show.
1-3 things would like to see: Spike and Angel bonding at any level. Illyria may talk as long as you care to let her.
1-3 things does NOT want to see: Fred revived. No Shanshu, either.


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