Not Enough is Too Much
by Ophelia C.
Disclaimer: Not mine. None of it. All belongs to Joss & Co.
Spoilers: None. Non-canon. Not even close to canon. Buffy and Faith are in a relationship. This just came to me. I've just been in one of my moods lately. Faith's POV.
Thanks: To Nina for BETAing and my friends for… well, for everything.
The moon came out tonight. The first time all week. It's been too cloudy. And I've been waiting for it, only sleeping for a few hours a night, drifting off right after sunrise. But tonight it came out full, shining pale light across my vision. I saw the room, the bed, the sleeping blonde, myself, and the window I occupied.
I saw my arms and legs. I saw the scars. I saw the angry red marks that would soon heal and fade away, leaving only me to remember them. They are forever burned into my brain. Self-hate is a never-ending thing, no matter what. Even with someone else to love and be loved by.
I think it scares her. It scares me too, but for different reasons. Every night she comes to me. She finds me in my corner of the bathroom, my head banging against the wall with a razor in my hand. On bad nights, she would tear up, but she never cried. Only hold me and hug me and tell me she loves me.
After carefully cleaning my wounds, she lifts me up, not from my despair, but from the floor, and carries me to the bed where we lie together until she finally falls asleep. Then I slip from the covers to my window where I sit vigil over the night, the guilt pressing on my shoulders.
I know my habit scares her. I know my silence causes her pain. I know this because I've seen her cry, at night, when she's asleep. When her walls of strength are no longer strong. The tears trail down her face with cries of fear and sadness, a continuous rip to my heart.
But how can I repair it? How can I fix what I fucked up? By spilling my innermost feelings that I don't understand? Should I tell her that nothing she does makes me feel good or better because I can't feel anything? Do I tell her that the pain is better than the emptiness because the pain is better than nothing at all? Because I don’t think she'd understand. Because I don't think I want her to. I want her to be happy and loved and feel… like she can still feel. I won't expose her to my world.
But I won't have to. The moon is out tonight. It's what I've been waiting for. The light of night to save me from the darkness. To shine on the nothingness and show me something better. Something I can feel.
But it has failed me and I am left alone. My last chance is gone.
From the bed, I hear B cry. I can't do this to her. I understand why I am empty. She holds all my pain and it's tearing her apart.
Quiet as a mouse, I stand up and take my pocketknife out of the top dresser drawer. Opening it as I sit back down, I take one last look at the moon, damning it for damning me.
'Follow the vein, there'll be no pain. Follow the vein there'll be no pain. Followtheveintherellbenopain.' The message runs through my head over and over again, faster and faster, until the thought overlaps.
With my eyes on B, I listen. I follow the vein in my left wrist and then my right, feeling nothing but a slight pain. I'm used to it and it's not that bad.
I can hear B cry out again. Maybe she feels it too. Feels me bleeding. Feels me getting sleepy. Feels me… start to feel. Feel regret. Feel fear. Feel loss and loneliness. Feel myself slip away. Feel me think of her. Feel me love her. Feel me send out myself. Feel me whisper into the dead of night. "I love you, B. I'm sorry." Feel my blood slow. Feel my heart slow. Feel my breathing slow.
Feel the tear slide down my cheek as I leave, my eyes on her. Always on her. Until the end of time.
The moon came out tonight. It damned me.
It made me feel.