Some of those stake splinters landed beneath my heart, too.

There's so much to groove here, so many phrases and constructions to single out and praise that I'd be just reposting the damn thing. I love the way you entwine their individual and collective struggles with grief and bring it back to Angel's abilty/inability to actually live his unlife.

Wasn't expecting that from puppy fic, let me tell you. And there's what I dig most about this -- the sense of being on a thrilling, uncertain and weirdly uncomfortable joyride, prickling with energy and trepidation.

And now it can be told: the apocalypse is just funnier with Spike and Illyria in it.

Great stuff, Joy. I love it hard. Love you hard, too. Thanks for this.