Title: Resistance (5/7)
Author: Miz Thang
Characters/Pairing: Ensemble, Illyria/Spike, DS/Angel, WR/OFC, CG/HK, DS/Spike
Rating: FRM
Word Count: 2251
Warnings: Angst. Melodrama. Romance. Character death.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the little story's idea. Everything else belongs to who it belongs to.
SummaryLet's pretend, that, for a moment, Illyria's great army isn't dead at the end of Shells, and that she begins a great rise to power, and basically, war breaks out. There's only one group that dares intervene, known as the Resistance.

Notes: This is an ahead-of-time warning. This story only has five chapters, a prologue and an epilogue. This is supposed to tell the end of the struggle against Illyria. If not, it'd be some long drawn out story about the three hundred and fifty years I skipped. It's also quite possible that there could be a sequel. And oh, this story is Spike/Illyria, among other pairings.

Author's Note: Two to go snicker. Here's an update, with a very unexpected something, considering what I just said…

Four

-2354-

"I'm bored." Spike said as he and Illyria lay in a tangled mass on their bed. Illyria was splayed on top of him, and propped herself up on his elbows at his sudden comment.

"You almost always are." She responded.

He liked her hair. Completely random, but over the years, the brown had faded to blue more and more. He took it as a sign of power. Of her growing power. That she was still powerful, and would forever be. There was no other alternative for her. His Blue Goddess.

"There has to be something to do."

"We have a missing witch to find. She has returned to the others by now, I've no doubt." She disentangled herself from Spike and slid out of the bed, stretching her muscles. She didn't do it out of necessity; she did it out of the pure desire.

"And eventually," Spike started, sitting up and watching her closely, "they'll make a plan to attack Willem." He watched her pull on her robe.

Illyria turned to face him, a bit of a frown on her face. "Impossible. Our army is invincible. I gave you only the best defenses."

"Yeah, but if we knock Red off the team now, we'll be one step close to total domination." He replied, acting on her totalitarian side, the side of her that wanted to conquer and rule as she'd done for millenniums a time long ago. And he'd make sure that time turned once again.

She looked thoughtful for a moment. "All right. We will kill the witch today."

-

Willow gave Sandris a look. "Sandy, I'll be home in three days."

Sandris didn't want her to go. Understandable, really. The last time Willow had been in her region of what was now Willem, Illyria had tried to capture her for Spike to kill. Sandris didn't want her to die. It'd kill her to have to live without Willow.

"No." Sandris replied. Let her sound five; she didn't care. "No!"

Willow pouted. "Sandy-"

"No!" You don't know what'll happen today, or tomorrow, or the two days after that! You don't how bad it hurt when I thought you were dead! I felt like my heart had been ripped out! You can go to Willem if you want, but I'm not happy about it and I won't pretend I am!"

Willow let out a sigh of sadness as she watched Sandris leave the room, slamming the door closed behind her.

She bent down to pick up her shoulder bag and hefted it onto her shoulder. She had to estimate their progress in converting Australia into a colony so they could determine how to attack. Why couldn't Sandris understand that The Resistance was what really mattered?

-

"Do you know what really matters?" Buffy asked, looking at every human, every slayer, every vampire, demon, witch-every fighter dedicated to their cause. "The mission. The Resistance. The Resistance is what really matters."

-

Dawn had a bad feeling as she, Angel, and Willow entered the airport. And she'd realize later that her bad feeling had been a sign, another step in the plan she'd forgotten.

They reached Willow's gate with ease, just as passengers were being called to board. She turned to face them before boarding, and that would also be her mistake. "Tell Sandris that I'm sorry, okay?"

"Got it, Will. Now, get on-" Dawn was cut off as she sensed something about to happen. Angel turned the same way as she, a frown on his face.

"Dawn, willow, get down-"

At that exact moment, the window right by their gate shattered, spraying glass bits everywhere. Dawn tackled Willow to the ground and Angel landed next to her. They covered their heads as screaming and panic erupted. Dawn knew exactly what her bad feeling had been by now. She'd been itching at the prospect of an ambush.

-

Spike stepped through the window and took a deep breath before sighing in contentment. He felt like he was back at Sunnydale High, ruining Buffy's night…good times…

Dawn stood first, and her eyes widened. Oh, God, please not now.

"Hey, Nib, where's Red? We've got unfinished business." He said.

Dawn pulled Willow to her feet easily and shoved her in a direction that was away from Spike. "Run!"

Armed soldiers flooded the airport and attacked Dawn and Angel as the redhead stumbled and took off down a hallway. Spike was, for once, more preoccupied with his mission and that was to find Willow. Though the prospect of watching Angel fight for his had some advantages.

Taking Willow's lead, he found himself in a hallway filled with closets. There was a sneeze and he had to appreciate that she'd hid with something she was allergic to. "I think I'm getting close…am I getting close? Tell me, Red, hot or cold?" Spike asked. He let out a laugh that could have made anyone shiver.

He turned to the third door. "Peek a boo," he said, kicking the door open and grinning nastily at Willow. "I see you."

-

Dawn had a really bad feeling as she was tossed into the nearest wall. She fell on her back and groaned, rolling to her feet as quickly ad possible.

She grabbed a nearby chair and knocked a soldier down. Last she'd heard, they were becoming pretty much invincible. Bad for her, good for Illyria.

A punch to the face sent her off her feet and flying back, into the wall. Her head cracked against the plaster and she slid down to the floor. As her vision darkened, she had one thought.

This can't be good.

-

Angel saw Dawn go down and a feeling of terror gripped him. He tossed a soldier across the room and raced Dawn's way until her found himself flat on his back.

Illyria stood before him, flexing her left fist. She wore a thin smile. "Phoenix is in no danger. You, however, are."

-

Sandris sighed after taking a few deep breaths. Willow would be okay. It was okay. Everything would be fine.

It had taken her a half hour to convince herself that the trip would go over fine. And what happened in the next moment brought all those insecurities back.

"Sandy!" Hope yelled, running into her room. Yane and Miller flanked her two sides.

Sandris looked at them. "What?"

"Turn on the T.V." Yane said.

Sandris frowned, but did as she was told. A news reporter was on the screen.

"-to Anna Meson at the scene, describing the events. Anna, what is happening?"

Sandris' would was falling apart as the scene on the television turned to the airport, a tiny woman standing before it, though many yards away from the area.

"Thank you, Eliza. This airport is a disaster. It is believed that members of the elusive Resistance brought our merciful leader to this airport. So far, ten humans, three demons, fifteen vampire, and two witches are among the casualties found in this attack. With us is Samantha Ti-"

Sandris turned the television off and faced the three than came to tell her. "Willow's dead?"

"We came to ask you." Miller said. "If anyone, you should know."

Sandris nodded, standing. "We're going to the airport."

"But, expos-"

"I don't care." Sandris cut Hope off. "I won't risk anyone for The Resistance. Especially not Willow."

-

Willow held her hand out as Spike reached for her. He flew back into a wall and she ran. Her breath came in short gasps as she took this run for her life. She turned back to see where he was, but didn't see him at all. She slowed down and moved forward, turning back to see where she was headed. She screamed when she saw that he stood before her, frowning as if it had bothered him that she'd used magic to defend herself.

"Forget already, Red? Just like Illyria now, aren't I?" he asked. "Ever since the explosion on 2009. And it's all your fault, isn't it?"

"Spike…please…" she resorted to begging. If there was any compassion in his heart…but no. No there wasn't. Because she'd killed it. She'd made him the monster he was at the present, because she'd been trying to make Dawn happy and save Buffy's sanity. And it hadn't worked, had it? No, it hadn't. Buffy had died in the middle of her own hallucination, and Dawn was an eternal vampire, and miserable-even if she'd never admit that she missed and needed Spike.

"Tried to save me, didn't you? Found out that I had become Illyria's only weakness." He said. "Smart girl, Red."

"I-it wasn't only that, Spike. B-Buffy a-a-and Dawn, they-"

"Needed me. Were worried about me. Wanted to save me. Heard it all. This is how the story ends." He replied, brushing off her attempt to save her life.

"I just-I can stop them. The-The Resistance. I'll just stop them, and we can…we can pretend this didn't happen. You can rule all you want. Promise."

"Love to, Red. But, I want to." Spike said. "You're not getting it. I want to kill you."

Willow found herself against a wall in less than a second. She felt her eyes tear and her vision blurred as he tightened his grip on her neck. "Please, no."

Spike gently pushed her head to the side. "Death can be fun. Too bad you aren't coming back."

She shut her eyes as fangs descended on her and entered her neck. She gasped in pain, because it did hurt. Two single tears ran down her cheeks as she thought of Sandris and the promise to be back, to come back to her. And she wouldn't. Not alive, anyway.

Her vision blacked, and then it was all over.

Spike let go of her and stared at her body as it slid down the wall and then lay still on the floor.

Willow had tried to help him. But she'd been too late. In a spell attempt, she'd created a worldwide magical bomb. He, the subject became the…the Slayer, in a way. He was the only one able to kill any non-demonic supernatural power. Witches, Slayers, Connor, Dawn.

He turned and walked away, mission accomplished. After all, the mission was really mattered.

-

Sandris and the rest were too late. They ran past the authorities, fighting their way in, only to find Illyria and Spike leaving calmly. Sandris had slowed down for a moment, only watching him, before panic set in and she ran.

Dawn was passed out in a corner and they found Angel (and it made her sick) pinned to a wall, a sword handle protruding from his shoulder. And so, Sandris ran. She ran and searched every inch of the airport until she found her. Sightless green eyes stared up at the sky and her long hair was splayed about her head like a halo.

Something rose up in Sandris' throat and she sobbed. "No." Her heart pounded hard in her chest as she blinked, as if she were hallucinating. "No." The room spun on her. "No! I told you! I told you; I told you; I told you!"

She fell to her knees and hugged the body to her. That's all it was. A shell. Nothing more, nothing less. She ignored the glaring bite marks that she knew belonged to Spike and searched Willow. She found a note in the jacket pocket. What she read made her feel sick. Willow had planned on running into Spike.

I, Willow, sign my soul, my innocence, my life to you, Illyria. This world is my fault and I will undo it. I plead for forgiveness, but it doesn't matter anymore. It is my fault you have all this power-through Spike, that Spike is the way he is, and I did not have this purpose in mind. Take my soul, please, but leave the world alone, Illyria. This is signed in my blood. Holy.

Willow

Another sob came forth. Why, willow, why?

-

"I'll kill the fucker." Sandris said, tossing a stake back and forth. It levitated and shot through the air in front of Connor.

"You can't." He replied. He felt sorry about Willow too, but, what could she do? Willow was a master at magic. Spike killed her. Sandris had been little more than a child when the explosion happened, only dabbling in small things.

"The hell I can't." Sandris replied. "If I can't kill him, I'll personally send him to hell. Watch me."

"All I'll end up doing is watching you get killed. Stop being stubborn and stupid." Connor nearly begged. When they had returned, it hadn't been easy. A letter had appeared out of nowhere, reading:

If one's a traitor, and one's top secret, that only leaves nine. But then one's protected, and so eight. But then, there's Willow, whose oh-so-very dead, and that leaves seven. So, who's next?

Spike

Sandris had freaked out, appropriately. She'd gone on about sending that "bleached bastard" to hell, even if it killed her. Connor was the only one daring enough to attempt to call her on how stupid of a plan it was. There was no plan.

"He killed her! I loved her for three hundred forty years, and he killed her!" Sandris yelled, then falling to her knees with a sob. All the weaponry collapsed to the ground around her.

"Now isn't the time. But it'll come." Angel said from the doorway. "Believe me, Sandris, it'll come."

And it would, but for who, and what exactly?