Title: Eternity
Rating: K+
Summary: At the end of the day, everyone has to pay for what they have done… one-shot
Spoilers: First two seasons.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
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The overwhelming stench of smoke and burning rubber assaulted his senses. His eyes snapped open, but still he could not see past the dark smoke that obscured his vision. Rolling off the bed, his body took over on instinct, and he began crawling toward an exit. He was almost near what he thought was a door, when the flames inched forward and consumed his escape route. Automatically, he backed away from the blistering heat that radiated toward him.
Coughing into the crook of his arm, his burning lungs begged for fresh oxygen. He squinted into the darkness. At the other end of the room, he could see light filtering in. It was nothing like the scorching light from the vivid flames that surrounded him. This was purer, safer. Like sunlight.
He quickly crawled toward it, trying to defeat his blazing adversary in a race he was not sure he would be able to win. His eyes were burning from the smoke and he could feel cleansing tears streaming down his face. A horrible smell enclosed him, but he was oblivious to it because he had long ago given up on attempting to breathe in the thickening air.
"You're not trying to leave, are you?" he heard above the crackling of the flames. He spun around and then stilled in shock, his perilous environment forgotten for the moment. The blackened air made it hard for him to see clearly, but he recognized that voice anywhere.
"What?" it asked as it moved closer. "Didn't you miss me, lover?" The smoke cleared and all that was left were smoldering piles of ash. She stood in front of him. Her blonde matted waves stained by the blood that trickled down the side of her face from the large bruised gash on her forehead. She still wore the white t-shirt and green shorts from the night she died.
With the smoke gone, he could better see where he was. It was his pool house, though it did not look like how he remembered. Soot had permeated into every inch of the large room and most surfaces were darkened beyond recognition by the ashes.
She moved closer, her hand trailing along the charred wood and curling wallpaper. "You could have just asked," she told him.
"What?" he asked, though it came out more like a choked gasp. The searing heat had dried his throat and it was now painful to speak.
"I probably would have let you tape me," she informed him, a thoughtful expression on her face. "It could have been fun." She giggled as she bounced onto the singed bed, "You know I was always up for anything."
He ignored her, using what was left of a stool to help pull himself up. She was an illusion. He would just ignore her and she would disappear while he tried to figure a way out.
"And I am very photogenic," she continued, striking a sexy pose for effect. Then she sat up, "Or at least I was until, you know, you bashed the side of my skull in."
"If you're expecting me to apologize, don't hold your breath, Sweetheart," he growled, frustrated with her incessant talking. He circled the room, toward the window he had been aiming for during the fire. He tugged on the bottom, but it would not open. "Killing you was one of the best things I have ever done."
A flirty giggle came up behind him. He turned around to find her face mere inches from his own, her large eyes staring at him with a devilish glint. She smirked coyly as she pushed him into a nearby chair.
"Is that what you want?" she asked in a breathy voice. She climbed into his lap, holding him in place with her own weight. "For me to beg you for an apology you would never actually mean?" He glared at her, trying to push her off.
"Why, oh why did you kill me?" she mockingly wailed, her nails digging into his skin while she tightened her grip against his struggle.
"Because you never shut up," he snarled, reaching up to grab her neck.
"Uh uh," she playfully scolded, slapping his arm away. "Bad boy. This time I get to be on top." She trailed her fingers up and down his chest, in what could be misconstrued as a loving caress.
"What do you want from me?" he asked, finally giving up his futile fight.
She pouted, "Are you not having fun, lover? I'm hurt." He just angrily stared at her. "This is your punishment," she helpfully provided, a brilliant smile spreading across her face.
"Punishment?" he dully echoed.
She laughed at his confusion. "For killing me, duh! You didn't think you were just going to get away with it, did you?" she inquired, sobering quickly.
"And what's your punishment, whore?" he spat at her, the rage surging through his veins.
Her eyes darkened. "I have to spend the rest of eternity with my killer." Then she grinned, the serious of the moment instantly gone. "But we'll make the best of it. We always did know how to have fun passing the time. Remember that one time I told Logan I was going to get a soda and Lynn was passed out on the couch. You and I were alone in the kitchen so we…"
She was suddenly cut off by his scream. A burning pain was running up and down his chest. It was a thousand times worse than when his father used to put out his cigarettes on his forearm. The pain rapidly began to spread until it enveloped his whole body. It rushed through him in waves.
Just as quickly as it had begun, it was over. He looked down to the only portion of exposed skin that was visible to him, his wrist where her hand had unintentionally pushed the sleeve back when she grabbed it. The skin was red with boiling blisters all over it.
She followed his gaze and then leaned in close, her upper body brushing against his. "This is just a little sneak peek," she giggled into his ear, "of what's to come. See you really, really soon."
He woke up, gasping for air. He pulled up the sleeve of his shirt and exposed the unmarred skin to the cool night air. Breathing a sigh of relief, he laid back down on his cot.
It was just a dream. Today he was going to find out the jury's decision on his trial. His lawyer had assured him that he would be out of jail by tomorrow night. That he would get away with it. He was not going to let a dream about that stupid slut ruin this moment for him. He smirked as he closed his eyes again, wanting to get a few more hours of sleep so that he did not have bags under his eyes when he spoke to the paparazzi.
Aaron Echolls was going to soon be a free man.
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A/N: I took a break from my stories to quickly write this. It came out a lot more sadistic then I intended, but their relationship was always a tad kinky. I figured if Lilly would have to haunt Aaron for the rest of eternity, then she would want to have a little fun with it. Besides, it's not like he doesn't deserve it.
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