Into The Void
by Electra
Rating: R
Disclaimer: All characters, etc, belong to Joss, M.E., Fox, and whoever else. I just needed to borrow them for awhile. No harm or copyright infringement intended.
Feedback: Hit me!
CHAPTER ONE -- Part of the System
Faith wasn’t exactly sure how she was feeling when she first went to prison. A million thoughts were going through her mind all at once.
Part of her was pissed off. She went to LA to escape the trouble she had in Sunnydale. Sure, she wreaked a little havoc once she had got there, but then Angel had gotten through to her. He offered his help and said that he would see her through to the end, knowing from his own personal experience that the road to redemption is a rocky (and lonely) path. With the arrival of the Watcher’s Council goons and the ever-growing police threat, she knew that her days were numbered. After an evening of heightened emotions and close calls, she turned herself into the police and was sent to prison, 25 years to life. ‘Hey Angel, thanks for your help, you punk.’ No, that’s not exactly fair. After all, Angel had tried to help her, like a true friend. He couldn’t help the fact that her past had finally caught up with her. It was her own damned fault.
On the other hand, part of her was relieved. Sure, she was a Slayer and could escape if she really wanted to. But she had no intentions of leaving. She didn’t have to run this time. She could take advantage of her time in prison and confront the darkness and demons that had haunted her for so long. She wanted to redeem herself, and if that meant rotting in prison, then so be it. Now, she had nothing but time on her hands.
Still, something was nagging in the back of her mind. She had let so many people down. She had lied. She had stolen things. She had hurt many people, and not just physically. She toyed with peoples’ minds, broke them down and made them miserable, and just when they thought they were as low as they could get, she broke them just a little bit more. And the worst part was that she liked doing it. Her time in prison could be used to confront her demons, but still, how was she going to make amends with those that she had wronged? How could she redeem herself to all of the people that she had hurt if she was sitting in a jail cell?
Six months had gone by, and Faith continued to think about it. She decided that in order to break the ice, she would write a couple of letters.
‘Let’s see, who do I need to apologize to?’ The first and most obvious person was Buffy.
Buffy had been the one person who had really tried to make her feel like she belonged, and Faith had taken total advantage of her. She was so jealous of Buffy, and she betrayed her at the first opportunity. She had done the most horrible things to her family and friends. How could she apologize for that? ‘Hey B, I’m sorry that I picked the Mayor over you. Oh, and that whole body-swap and sleepin' with your boyfriend thing? Total mistake. My bad! Hope you can forgive.’ Yeah right.
Okay. So this was harder than she thought. But she needed to start somewhere. ‘Baby steps, right?’
While in her cell, Faith pulled out a spiral notebook and a pen, and began to make a list. Buffy was at the very top of the list but Faith wanted to wait on writing her letter, knowing that she had to do some serious thinking about what she wanted to say. Just below Buffy, she added Giles, Mrs. Summers, Willow, and Xander. But, the list didn’t stop there. She also had to add Angel, Wesley, Cordelia, and various other people that she had crossed over the last couple of years.
As the list grew, so did Faith’s apprehension about writing the letters. ‘Maybe this is a stupid idea. How much can a letter possibly help to ease someone’s pain?’ But Angel had assured her that it would help her in her quest for redemption, even if she wrote the letters and didn’t send them. The simple act of getting those things off of her chest would help her in her own journey.
Faith appreciated the visits from Angel. He came to see her whenever he could, which wasn’t too often as of late. You know, saving the world and all on a weekly basis kind of limits your time for social visits.
Angel was always kind and caring towards Faith whenever he came to see her. He’d fill her in on the happenings around LA and Sunnydale, and he’d listen to her when she needed to spill. He never judged her, which made it that much easier for Faith to empty her heart out to him. No interruptions, no lectures. Just a shoulder to lean on, and an ear to listen.
Faith’s POV
Well, I’m finally writin' these letters. My first six months here, I thought 'bout what I wanted to say to everyone. Now, I’m finally gettin' down to it. So what else, you ask, was I doing in that time? Well, hold onto your pants, cowboy. Miss Faith finally decided to get her high school diploma. I figured that if I wanted to write these letters, at least they can look and sound kinda professional. I’m not stupid, ya know? I just never took the time to learn while I was in school, mostly because I was too busy skippin' classes and just bein' a naughty girl.
So, where do I start? Hmm. Giles seems like a good place to start. Now . . . what what do you say to a guy who took you under his wing when he didn’t have to? Who put up with your ‘against the grain’ behavior? Who you completely disappointed by playin' one side against the other?
Well, his letter is pretty much right to the point. Basically: “I’m sorry that I couldn’t see that you were there for me. I’m sorry that I pushed you away when you tried to help. I’m sorry that I was so selfish. I’m sorry that I hurt Buffy (his slayer, his friend, his quasi-daughter). Most importantly, I’m sorry that I let you down.”
I don’t really know how Giles is gonna react. I think that he may be easier to convince than the others. He knows I had a rough life; that my parents were fucked up, that my first watcher died in front of me and I couldn’t stop it, and that I’ve been runnin' from my problems for as long as I can remember.
I think the one thing that he's really gonna dwell on is the fact that I hurt Buffy so bad. You see, she's more than just a Slayer to him. She's a woman. A friend. A warrior. A daughter . . . well, the closest thing to a daughter that he ever had. And me? I tried to fuck that all up; I tried to take that away from him. But we all know I'm fucked up, right?
Movin' on . . .
I wrote a short letter to Mrs. S, thankin' her for being hospitable to me when I first arrived. Hell, she was pretty much hospitable to me the whole time, even when I was holdin' her against her will. Yeah, I'm a fuckin idiot, I'll give ya that much. She always kinda looked at me with a small glimmer in her eyes . . . like she could see past my hard exterior and into the real me. Almost like a Mother looks into her own child.
In her letter, I also apologized for betrayin' her trust, for holding her against her own will, for trashin' her place, for hurtin' and bein' a bad influence on her daughter . . . and for using her lipstick without permission. Sure, I know that the last one seems stupid, but I want her to know that I remember the small stuff. After all, if someone used my hot-as-hell lipstick, I’d be bitter.
Next on my list was Xander and Willow. I wrote their letters on the same day, seein' as that they both were kind of the same in content. “Sorry that I betrayed your trust, that I ignored that fact that you tried to include me in your little gang, that I tried to take Buffy away from you,” blah blah blah.
But I did put something personal in both of their letters.
For Red, I told her that it was never my goal to replace her as Buffy’s best friend; that I knew I could never fill her shoes, and that I know how much Buffy loves and appreciates her. Even though Red was uncomfortable with me, she was never overly rude to me (besides the occasional eye-roll or annoyed sigh). I guess I kinda egged her on. Oh, come on! It was fun watching her get all flustered. I actually kinda miss that little 'babble' thing she used to do.
For Xan-man, I apologized for using him and discardin' him. Hell, I’m sure that he didn’t mind the sex part. After all, I am a fuckin' firecracker in the sack. Smirk. But he didn’t deserve to be tossed aside after the fact, and definitely didn’t deserve the ‘almost-repeat performance’ when I got a little . . . well, choke-happy. I made sure to let him know that he’d make some girl really happy one day (and not just for 7 minutes, like I had taunted him about).
After I sent the letters to G, Mrs. S, Red, and Xan-man, I sat back and thought about what they might think when they receive their letter. I totally understand that they are gonna be hella-pissed at first. After all, I hurt them so bad, and now I’m sendin' them a letter? Might as well send them a dead cat. It can’t make up for what I have done, I know that. But maybe it can open the doors for some sort of understandin' or forgiveness in the future.
I have about 25 year or so to work on them, y'know?
I can’t help but feel a little guilty for not sendin' a letter to Buffy, but I’m not exactly sure yet what I wanna say to her. If I write her now, I know that I’d forget to say somethin', or I would think of somethin' better to say after I already sent it out. Then I'd be kickin' myself.
I guess I’ll wait on it for just a while longer. Like I said, nothin' but time, right?
So, I tuck my notebook and pen away under my cot, and I recline back for awhile. I don’t really mind that my cot is wicked uncomfortable. Not only do I not deserve anything better, but it kinda distracts me from actually sleepin'.
I know what you’re thinking. Distraction from sleep? . . . normally a bad thing, right?
Well, not for me. See, it seems that almost every time I sleep, I’m totally assaulted by nightmares, dreams, and flashbacks from my past. The flashbacks and nightmares I can deal with. Part of the redemption process, I guess. I’ve gotta “see my wicked past,” as Angel puts it.
What I can’t handle is the brain-splittin' headaches, the tremors, the ragged breathing, and the messed-up heartbeat that I get when I wake up from them. Yeah, it sucks big time. Someone or something definitely doesn’t want me to forget all of the things that I’ve done. But I guess that I deserve whatever I got comin' to me, right?
So, I try to avoid sleeping when I don’t have to. No afternoon naps, no going to bed early, etc. But, the lack of sleep catches up with ya. After a while, I kinda just get overwhelmed by the pure fuckin exhaustion, and I drift off into the abyss.
So, here I am now, layin' on my uncomfortable cot, just thinkin' about B and what I want to say to her. I close my eyes just for a moment, playin' back memories of our better times in my head.
I’m totally friggin' exhausted, and I don’t even realize it as I slowly drift off to sleep.
“Help me understand why
You've given in to all these
Reckless dark desires”
-- A Perfect Circle, “The Outsider”
Faith was running through the alley with Buffy, dusting vamps as they went. She had so much adrenaline running through her that it was messing with her senses. Maybe that’s why she didn’t hear the heartbeat of the guy that jumped out in front of her. Maybe that’s why she didn’t hear Buffy scream, “Faith, no!” until it was too late.
She reared back, stake in hand, and brought it down into the guy’s chest. When she noticed the absence of dust, her senses slowly came back to her. She looked down to her hand to see it covered in blood.
She timidly raised her head to find a pair of surprised and pain-filled eyes glaring at her. ‘No. NO. NO!!’ she thought to herself. Her eyes remained fixed on the guy as he panted for breath and eventually stopped all movement. His lifeless body slid down the dumpster and rested on the ground.
“Faith! What have you done?” she heard from a quiet voice behind her.
She turned to face Buffy. “I-I didn’t know. I didn’t mean to . . . I didn’t know.”
In a flash, she found herself out of the alley and back at her motel.
Buffy was standing in front of her, looking at her expectantly. “Faith, I want to help you.”
The dark slayer just glared at her.
“Faith, you don’t get it. You killed a man.”
“No, you don’t get it, B. I don’t care.”
Faith couldn’t believe that those words had actually come out of her mouth. She did care. She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. She wanted to throw something. But she just stood there, looking at Buffy defiantly.
“Fine, Faith. If you don’t want me to help you, you can rot."
Buffy turned her back and walked towards the door. As she opened the door to walk out, she stole a backwards glance at Faith. The brunette had a nervous frown on her face. She was looking down at her feet and her hands were anxiously grabbing at one another.
“Faith.” Buffy tried to get the dark slayer’s attention. She didn’t want Faith to rot. She wanted to help her, to be able to tell her that everything would be okay.
Contrary to popular belief, she actually liked Faith. She always felt a special bond with the girl, and wanted nothing more at this moment than to help her. When Faith was around . . . the blonde slayer didn't feel so alone in the world.
Without looking up, Faith quietly muttered the words, “Just get out. Go back to your boyfriend. Go back to your friends. Go back to your family.”
“You don’t have to go through this alone.” Buffy stated, trying to show her concern.
“I AM alone.” Faith said through clenched teeth, venom lacing her words. She lifted her eyes and looked at Buffy.
Buffy couldn’t help but notice the hurt and total vulnerability present in Faith’s expressions, and the tears that were threatening to fall from her now bloodshot eyes. Buffy’s own eyes welled with tears as she saw the tears fall down the younger girl's face.
Without a second thought, Buffy moved towards Faith and put her hands on Faith’s arms.
“No, Faith. You are NOT alone. Don’t push me away, I’m right here.” She pulled Faith into a hug, wrapping one hand around her back and cradling the back of her head in her other hand.
Faith was tense at first, but relaxed into the hug. She began sobbing uncontrollably. Buffy slowly rocked her, whispering into her ear.
“Sshhh, sshhh. It’s okay Faith. I won’t let anyone hurt you. I’ll go through this with you. You don’t have to be alone. Sshhh.” Without giving it too much thought, she pressed her lips to Faith’s forehead and gave her a small, comforting kiss.
Buffy kind of liked this vulnerable side of Faith. It made her feel unreasonably closer to the dark slayer.
But almost predictably, the moment of vulnerability only lasted a moment. Faith quickly tensed up and pushed Buffy back away from her.
Faith yelled. “No! Just get the hell outta here, B!”
The blonde slayer just stared at her, a confused and hurt look upon her face.
Faith’s harsh voice softened when she saw the look that Buffy gave her.
“I’m poison, Buffy. I’m poison. Just . . . leave.” Buffy just glared at Faith. She was searching the other girl over, looking for something, anything, that told her to stay. But Faith had put her walls back up, and Buffy found no reason to stay.
“I’m sorry, Faith.” She uttered. With that, she turned and walked out of the hotel room, leaving Faith standing there . . . alone.
A moment later, Faith fell to her knees, completely take over by her sobs. She wanted Buffy to stay. She wanted her help. But she was afraid that the older slayer would get hurt in the process. She had counted on Buffy to offer her help, and she had planned to turn it down. What Faith didn’t count on, however, was that Buffy would give up on her so easily. ‘Buffy should’ve known straight away that I would reject her help. After two minutes, she just gives up. I thought that we were friends. I thought she understood me.’
Faith slowly stopped sobbing and got up from her knees. ‘Well, I guess there’s only one thing left to do.’ She grabbed her jacket and was out the door.
In a flash, she was no longer standing outside her hotel, but inside the middle of the Mayor’s office. She had gone there to turn herself in. She had no idea that he had other plans in store for her.
“Well, Faith, I have to say that I’m a little bit surprised. I didn’t think that the darkness would hit you like this until after I got to you.” The Mayor joked.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Oh, you know. The misbehaving, the killing. I didn’t think that would start until after you came to me.”
Getting a little bit restless, Faith simply repeated her question, but with a little more anger this time. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“I knew you would come to me Faith. Heck, I couldn’t have planned it better. I sent my deputy out to find you during that little ambush. I know that you put your whole self into a fight, and that you just wouldn’t be able to tell him from a vampire.”
“Wait, are you sayin' that you set me up to kill that guy?”
“You’re pretty quick there, Faithy. Of course I did! I knew that your little goody two-shoes slayer friend would turn her back on you, and that you would come to me. I knew that you would be left alone, and trust me, I know how much you hate being alone.”
Damn. He really knew how to get to her. It was almost as if he could read her better that she could read herself.
“Yeah, well, I didn’t come here to be your pal, Dick. I came here to turn myself in. So, if you don’t wanna take my confession, then I’ll just get outta your hair . . .”
She started towards the door when she felt a hand on her shoulder.
“No, I do want you, Faith. I have great plans for you, my dark Slayer.” He had a large smile on his face. If he hadn’t looked so endearing, Faith may have been creeped out. But she decided to let her guard down a little.
“Oh yeah? What kind of plans?” She asked, her interest piqued a little.
“Aren’t you tired, Faith? Tired of always being number two? Tired of working just as hard as Buffy, if not harder, and always letting her take the credit? Tired of never getting the praise that you deserve? I’ll tell ya, it’s a darn shame seeing your kind of power go to waste.”
“I’m tired of not being wanted.” Faith had a very solemn look on her face.
“Like I said. I want you Faith. I can make you special. You won’t have to vie for my attention. Here, it will only be you. And I, unlike many others, greatly appreciate your work. So what do you say? You scratch my back, I scratch yours?”
Faith thought about it for a minute. Should she betray Buffy? And Giles? And the Scoobies? They obviously weren’t benefiting from her presence. After all, she did kill a guy. They would probably want to lock her up, or send her away. ‘Oh, no way. There's no way in hell that I’ll let them send me off to the Watcher’s Headquarters for an evaluation. They’ll wanna kill me’ she thought.
She mentally came to the decision that it would be better for her and everyone else involved if she just stayed away from them. At least this way, she could make sure that they didn’t get hurt by her hands, or those of the Mayor. It wasn’t so much a betrayal as a precaution on her part not to hurt Buffy and the Scoobies.
“So, is this a paying gig?” Faith asked.
“You bet. Anything you want, just name it. What can I offer you besides a nice salary, young lady?”
“I need a place to stay where no one knows where to find me. Some weapons and clothes too. Most importantly, you have to promise me that you won’t hurt Buffy or her friends and family, or the deal is off.”
The Mayor held out his hand to Faith, offering her a handshake to seal the deal. She extended out her arm and took his hand into a handshake.
Upon contact with his hand, her eyes turned black as oil and her body went rigid. She threw her head back and let out a painful scream.
The Mayor uttered a few words in Latin and then spoke to the rigid form in front of him.
“Oh, don’t worry, I won’t hurt your friends” he said with a grin on his face. “You will.”
“Wherever you are
You will carry always
Truth of the scars
And darkness of your faith”
-- Bush, “Cold Contagious”
Faith awoke from her sleep with a start. She was covered in sweat, but her skin was cold to the touch. Her breathing was incredibly labored, and a dull pain spread its way from her head throughout her entire body.
Faith dealt with the reaction the only way that she knew how. She pulled herself up into a seated position and crossed her legs Indian-style. She inhaled several deep breaths and began to meditate.
After a couple of minutes like that, she was finally able to relax herself a little. ‘Shit. That was one of the most intense dreams that I’ve had yet. I thought that maybe they'd start to get a little easier by now.’
When Faith had first gone to prison, nightmares like the one she just had plagued her relentlessly. However, she figured that it was part of her ‘redemption,’ and simply dismissed them.
The dreams weren’t so much nightmares as they were visions from her past. But there wasn’t really a big difference between the two, or at least that's what Faith thought. Her life, in her own opinion, was a giant nightmare. The reason that these dreams seemed so harsh to her was because she was now looking at her life from a different point of view. What may not have seemed wrong to her then definitely seemed wrong to her now.
Pretty much, the dream that she just had was the one that replayed itself the most. However, the dark slayer was never really given the whole “show.” Never once did she get to see the dream through to completion. It had, for her, always ended just as she grabbed the Mayor’s hand to seal the deal. As far as she knew it, that is where her dream ended; her memory didn’t hold anything beyond that point.
Something or someone had always blocked the rest of the memory from her, thus holding it back from her dream as well. She never saw the Mayor perform the spell on her, and nothing had ever hinted to her that there was anything further about that particular encounter that she needed to investigate.
‘Geez, I can’t believe I was so naïve. Why did I reject Buffy’s help? Why did I ever agree to work for the Mayor? Why was I such a fuckin idiot?’ Faith thought before settling back down on her cot.
There was no sense in trying to sleep again. ‘I guess there really is no rest for the wicked.’
Faith’s mind was flooded with thoughts. Memories of the past swept through her, making her entire body tremble. Suddenly, she heard a sob escape her lips. Then another, and another.
Soon, she was sobbing uncontrollably.
Tears flowed freely from her eyes. She kept seeing Buffy in her mind. Buffy. Trying to make her feel welcome. Buffy. Inviting her to Christmas dinner at her house. Buffy. Coming to the motel to visit her. Buffy. Involving her in the nightly patrols. Buffy. Pleading with her to accept her help. Buffy. Telling her she wasn’t alone.
‘Oh God. How can anything I have to say to her make up for how I hurt her? Words can’t help. Not even actions can help. You’re an idiot, Faith. You don’t deserve her friendship, or her forgiveness.’
Faith continued to have these thoughts as she laid awake for the remainder of the night. As the lights came on in her cell and she heard the sounds of the other inmates waking up, she snapped out of her thoughts.
She had convinced herself that there was no use in writing a letter of apology or explanation to Buffy, not at this point. Nothing she could say or do could make things right. With that, she reached under her cot and pulled out the spiral notebook.
She opened it to the list of names and hesitantly scribbled out the name from the top of the list.
Buffy.
Faith’s POV
This day is definitely goin' by too fuckin' slow. Sure, every day goes by kinda slow when you’re locked in a 8x10 cell. But you do what ya can to keep from losin' your mind.
I was glad that they let me hop right into the Diploma program. It took up a lotta my time, but I really didn’t care. It was a welcomed distraction. I wanted to do a good job, so I really dove into it. I guess the fact that I scored a 95% on my final exam just goes to prove that point.
Besides studyin', there really isn’t too much that an inmate can do 'round here. Exercise. Write. Draw. Devise elaborate escape plans. Get off. Sleep.
Every now and then, they give you an hour or two of yard time. But nooooo, not for Faithy. Since I’ve been here, a couple inmates have taken it upon themselves to throw down with me. Whether it was to prove they were tough, or whether they were put up to it by the Watchers Council, Wolfram & Hart, or any number of demon clans, I’ll never know. But I’m not gonna stand around and get beat down, ya know?
So I defend myself. I’ll throw down, but I don’t go all bad-ass and permanently maim anyone. I give 'em just enough to let 'em know that I’m not gonna take their shit. The guards know that it’s not my fault, so they go pretty easy on me. I get along good with most of them; I think they can tell that I’m special (or at least I like to tell myself that).
Still, they think it’s not a good idea for me to “mingle” with the general population. Therefore, I get about 20 minutes of solo yard time a day. I get to do my own thing, seein' as that the guards generally let me get away with just a little more than the average prisoner.
I started doin' Tai-Chi and yoga, and that’s mainly what I do outside. The fresh air, the sun, the space; three things I don’t get to enjoy in the luxury of my cell.
I know what you’re thinkin'. Bein' outside and all . . . do I ever get the urge to run? Sure. What does the caged bird want? I know that I can out-run the guards and hop the wall in a cinch. But I don’t. I’m here for a reason.
I don’t deserve to be out in the real world.
Someday, but not yet.
A couple of weeks later . . .
On this particular day, Faith had never got her outside time. Seems that there was some sort of commotion among the general population, and all outside time was temporarily halted. ‘Damn, I really coulda used that time today. I need to release some of this fuckin nervous energy’ Faith thought.
After about two hours of meditating in her cell, she was anxiously looking for something to do. As she leaned back in her sitting position on the floor, her fingers grazed along the edge of the notebook under her cot. After hesitating for a moment or two, she grabbed the notebook and hopped up onto her cot.
“Well, now’s as good a time as any.” Faith mumbled. She opened the notebook to a fresh page and began a new letter.
After about two hours, Faith had successfully written letters to Angel, Cordy, and Wes. She had already made her peace with Angel, but she figured that she should include him on the list, seeing as that she did hurt him too.
She found that the letter to Wes was especially difficult to write. She had tortured him almost to the point of death, very undeservedly. He had only ever tried to make her a better slayer. Even when she came to LA all messed up and psychotic, he still tried to talk her down.
But she didn’t want to hear it from him. Not from someone who had never been in her shoes before. She took pleasure in torturing him, and probably would have killed him if Angel hadn’t showed up.
*************Flashback*************
“There are five basic torture techniques, Wes. We’ve already done blunt. That leaves sharp, cold, hot . . . and loud. Let’s try . . . sharp.” Faith taunted.
A bruised and bloodied Wesley stared back at her impassively from his tied-up position on the chair. He knew that she was beyond help at the point. Still, he was having a hard time giving up on her. So, he tried one last time.
“Faith, why are you doing this? I am not going to turn you in, or fight you, or scold you. You’ve made mistakes. So have I. We all have. You can be rehabilitated. It’s not too late for you. Let me help you.”
“Aww, you gettin’ all paternal on me now, Wes? Well, give it up. You don’t wanna help me. You’re one of them. You’d kill me at the first opportunity. Who wants a ‘rogue’ slayer when they can get a fresh new girl to mold to their liking?”
“This is no longer about being a Slayer, Faith. This is about being human. Human beings do not torture and kill one another, monsters do. Tell me, Faith: are you a monster?”
Wes was getting a little bold now, but he figured that he didn’t have much to lose.
Faith laughed. “Umm, Wes? Are you sure you wanna ask me questions like that? I think you’re forgettin' that I’m the one with the power here. I’m in control of this show.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Faith. You gave up control a long time ago. You have no power anymore, you gave it up when you lost control of yourself.”
Faith rolled her eyes and yawned, pretending her best to look bored.
Wes realized that this was a losing battle, so he quit trying to be Mr. Nice Guy. His voice suddenly turned harsh, and full of malice.
“You’re pathetic. A shadow. A hollow representation of what you used to be, what you could have been. The Faith that we all knew died a long time ago, and whatever crawled into the void where your soul used to be has rotted you from the inside out. Now either kill me or let me go. I’m obviously wasting my time trying to help you.”
Faith couldn’t hide the anger and the hurt that she was feeling. Her emotions were battling with each other; anger and hurt, hurt and anger.
Tears sprang to her eyes, but she fought them back, blinking them away before they had the chance to fall.
Anger was winning this battle.
With her knife in hand, she lunged at Wesley. Wes saw the attack coming and closed his eyes, waiting for the impact.
However, before the knife could make contact, Angel had crashed through the door and kicked the knife out of Faith’s hand.
**************End Flashback**************
Faith was still sitting on her cot when she ‘came back’ from her flashback. ‘If not for Angel, Wes woulda been another one of my statistics.’
Faith felt ill, and it wasn’t the first time. She had been feeling this way since she had finally broken down in LA. Between the dreams, nightmares, and flashbacks, she was starting to feel like she was drowning. Her body had been under a constant distressed state, varying from uneven and ragged breathing, to a racing heartbeat, to profuse sweating, to cold sweats.
The meditation and Tai-chi exercises that she had been doing gave her only a mild and temporary relief. Faith wanted to believe that it would help her through, so she tries to convince herself to keep it up. ‘Well, at least it takes the edge off.’
Still, she was restless, and she longed for a little relief. She grabbed the three letters that she had just finished, put stamps on them, and placed them at the end of her cell to be picked up by the mail cart. She then turned and lay down on her cot, hoping that she could block out her thoughts and meditate a little once again.
After an hour or so, she unknowingly fell asleep.
Author's Notes: This dream sequence continues where the last one left off).
Faith saw the knife fly across the room as Angel tackled her to the floor. She was emitting anger in the same way that the sun emits heat. The feeling was so strong that Angel was almost choking on it.
“Faith!” Angel yelled as he pinned her to the floor. “This isn’t you. What the hell is going on?”
“Don't pretend that know me, Angel. No one does.” She grunted as she struggled against his tight grip.
“Okay. Why don’t you tell me who you are then.”
“I’m the bad one. The dark one. The disobedient one. The killer. The thief. The slut. The screw-up. The mistake. The dark secret. That’s who I am, Angel! I’m just doing what I’m supposed to do, what I’m expected to do, being the bearer of those titles and all.”
She was screaming now. Her words were rough and broken, and each one came out louder and more feral than the one before it. Her eyes were almost unnaturally dark, and she was struggling ferociously. It was as is she was building up to her boiling point, and she was about to pop.
Angel could sense this, so his course of action changed from a mission of elimination to one of salvation. After all, he had embraced the darkness before and knew first hand that it could be lethal. She needed a light in the dark, and he was going to be that light.
Angel stood and pulled Faith up with him but kept a firm grip on her shoulders. When she raised her head, he saw that her eyes were as black as night. He could feel the anger coming off of her in waves. Something was wrong, but he didn’t know what.
Faith took advantage of Angel’s distracted state and struggled free. She ran from him across the room and jumped out the window. She fell three stories to the alley below and tried to pull herself together.
Before she even had the chance to get to her feet, she heard a thud behind her and turned to see Angel standing there. Thunder was roaring in the distance.
Full of rage, she pulled herself up and stood before him. After a brief moment, she thrust herself forward and began pummeling him with everything that she had.
“Get away from me, Angel!” she screamed. “I’m bad! I’m evil!”
Angel didn’t fight back; he merely tried to block her assault. “No, Faith, I won’t leave you. You need help. You need my help.”
“You’re wrong. I don’t need you. I don’t need anyone! I don’t deserve anyone!!” she screamed as her assault on Angel became more fierce. “If you won't go away, fight back!” she ordered.
Angel refused her request and continued only to block her attack. Sheets of rain began to fall around them.
“I said fight back, Angel! C’mon! Hurt me! Kill me! Just like everyone else wants to!”
“NO. I won’t fight you, Faith. I only want to help you. I care about you, Faith.”
Faith halted her attack for a moment, almost as if something had come over her and caused her to stop. The thunder struck again.
Faith shook her head slightly and resumed her attack on Angel.
“You don’t care, Angel. No one really cares. C’mon! Fight back!” she shrieked, her voice becoming hoarse. Tears burst from her eyes but she kept attacking in spite of them.
When Angel saw her tears, he knew he was getting to her. He decided to try even harder. He was going to play on her emotions in order to touch her humanity.
“Faith, I do care. Buffy cares. Joyce cares. Giles cares. We all care, Faith. We want to help you. We don’t want you to disappear.”
He managed to grab both of her arms as she tried to hit him. He continued speaking.
“We need you, Faith. You’re important. Please, let us help you, Faith. Let ME help you.”
He knew exactly what he was doing now. He tried to say her names as many times as possible. He brought up names of people he knew that she cared about. He held her close and looked into her eyes as he spoke.
Whatever he was doing was working, as Faith slowed down her attack and was now only mildly struggling against him.
“I already told you Angel . . . I’m poison. There is NOTHING good about me! I’m dirty. No one can help me.”
“I can help you Faith. I’ve been almost exactly where you are now. I can help you. We need you. We . . . I care about you, Faith."
She struggled a little, but then fell against him, sobbing.
Angel wrapped his arms around the shaking girl in a protective embrace. “Shhh, it’s okay, Faith. I’m here. I care. I’m going to help you. I care, Faith. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” Angel repeated over and over.
The memory fades to black.
That is the point of the dream that Faith had always woke up at. However, like her other dream, there was a little more that she was always blocked from seeing:
Angel continued to hold Faith as she sobbed uncontrollably in his arms. He rested his chin on top of her head and repeated the words that he had been saying over and over again. He was consciously taking unneeded breaths so that she would feel the rise and fall of his chest.
Suddenly, Faith’s eyes turned black, then transformed into a brilliant white color. The remaining anger left her body in a flash and she went limp in his arms.
Angel hadn’t noticed what happened to the sobbing girl, as her face was tucked underneath his chin and buried into his chest. The rain had also served as a large distraction, seeing as that it had turned into a torrential downpour as Faith was crying.
When Angel felt Faith go limp, he scooped up the now unconscious girl in his arms and carried her away from the alley . . .
. . . and away from the darkness.
“They're asking where ya been, like I know
Where ya been? Hey Summer, where ya been?
I tried to tell you, tried to tell you
Took a little bit too long”
-- Ben Folds Five, “Where’s Summer B.?”
Faith woke from her dream as she had every other time: breathing hard, sweating, and with a pain in her head that traveled through her body before going away.
“What the fuck? This ain’t right” she panted aloud. It seemed that her reaction to her dreams was getting worse as each day went by. Not only was her state of being affected upon waking up, but the effects were being carried over throughout the day.
She did what she could to take the edge off. Chain-smoking seemed to take the edge off a little. Vigorous exercise worked too, but on most occasions she was too drained and didn’t have the energy. Her last resort was food, particularly candy and sugar-filled treats. Unfortunately, those items were not currently on the prison’s menu. Therefore, she had to call in a couple of favors and do some bartering to get what she needed.
It was now 2:00 pm. Faith had been awake for over 6 hours, but she was still struggling from her previous dream. Just when she felt like she was about to scream, and guard came up to her cell and got her attention.
“Kincaid, you have a visitor.” Her cell door was opened, and she was escorted to the visitor section of the prison.
When they had reached their destination, the guard unlocked the door and turned to Faith.
“You have 20 minutes, window #7. You know the rules . . . you see the red light, you wrap things up. Be on your best behavior.”
“Yeah, thanks Charlie.” Charlie had always been one of Faith’s favorite guards. He always gave her extra outdoor and visiting time, and let her have a little extra freedom in general.
Faith walked through the visiting room and made her way towards window #7. She wasn’t really overly eager, as she thought it would just be Angel coming in to check up on her and get the latest progress report. Hell, she could even feel the little tingles being picked up by her slayer sense. He hadn’t been by in a while now, so she figured that he was due for a visit.
She reached the window but stopped dead in her tracks when she peered behind the glass. It wasn't Angel, nor Cordy, or anyone else that she may have expected. She had assumed that she would sit across from Gandhi before this would ever happen, but no. Sitting directly across from her at this moment was a less-than-happy looking Buffy Summers.
Faith couldn’t move. She simply held Buffy’s gaze for a few moments. Her first instinct was to turn and run, but she knew that the guards would stop her before she reached the door. She had no idea what to do. So, she stood there motionless, gazing at Buffy with a shocked and scared expression upon her face.
She had two basic thoughts running through her mind. The first was ‘oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit,’ and the second was ‘oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.’ It was probably a good thing that she chose to remain silent.
Finally, she was brought back to reality by Buffy, who was now waving her hand back and forth in an irritated gesture while mouthing the word ‘Hellooooo?’ Faith shook her head slightly to regain some sense, and she moved to sit down on the chair before her.
Buffy picked up the phone on her side of the glass. Faith was still in shock, so she just sat there glaring at the blonde in front of her.
Annoyed, Buffy held out her phone, placed it on the receiver, and picked it back up with an exasperated look on her face, hoping that Faith would follow suit. After a beat, Faith once again shook her head and picked up the phone. She spoke first.
“B-B-Buffy? W-What are you doin’ here?" Despite her best efforts to appear calm, her voice still trembled.
“Hello, Faith. It’s good to see you too.” Buffy’s tone varied between sarcastic and annoyed.
“You know w-what I mean, B. It’s not that I’m not glad to see y-you, it just . . . well, you’re the last person I ever expected to see here.” A nervous chuckle escaped her throat.
Buffy didn’t respond with words. Everything that she wanted to say at that point was conveyed in a single gesture: she reached into her bag and pulled out a wad of opened and tattered envelopes held together by a rubber-band. She held them up and displayed them to Faith with a very annoyed look upon her face.
It took the brunette a minute to realize that Buffy was holding the letters that she had written to the Scoobies et al in Sunnydale. Before Faith could respond, Buffy started, staring her straight in the eyes.
“Funny thing, Faith. Over the last couple of weeks or so, these mysterious letters started popping up for my friends and family. No one wanted to share with me, but much to their objection and fear for their physical well-being, I read every letter. Each and every word. Now, here’s the even funnier part. In these ‘letters,’ I see a lot of the same thing. ‘I’m sorry for hurting you, I’m sorry for betraying you,’ and my personal favorite, ‘I’m sorry for hurting Buffy.’
By this point, Faith had lowered her eyes and began to frantically play with her hands and bite her lower lip. She knew what was coming next. But her little nervous display didn’t deter Buffy, who quickly continued her speech, sarcasm and bitterness engulfing her words.
“So, after I finish reading these letters and laughing at their content, I go home to see if maybe I had a letter waiting for me, seeing as that you are so sorry for hurting me, at least according to the other letters. Now, follow me closely on this one, Faithy, because this one is the real kicker. I get home, and I find a letter waiting there. And I’m real excited now, because I know that I can really use another good laugh. But is the letter for me? Noooo. The name reads “Ms. Joyce Summers.” ‘Odd,’ I think. So, I look around for the letter addressed to Buffy, for whom you are so sorry for hurting. Lo and behold, I discover that there is no letter. I wait a couple of days, and still no letter, much to the disappointment of my funny-bone. I was about to go to the post office and see if there was some kind of a postal error, but I figured that I would come directly to the source. So, here I am.”
Buffy paused and looked at Faith expectantly.
Faith, for her part, had been silent the whole time. Of course, her hands were almost raw from wringing them so feverishly, and she was completely pale from the sheer shock that had hit her simply by seeing Buffy.
With her eyes still lowered, she tried to speak.
“B, I mean Buffy, I d-didn’t think that . . .”
“What?” Buffy interrupted, sarcasm turning into anger. She was shouting now. “You didn’t think that I deserved a letter? That I didn’t need an apology? Or did you just forget about me, Faith? Was I not important enough to make your little list of ‘People-I-hope-will forgive-me-for-my-vile-behavior-and-utter-lack-of-humanity’?”
Buffy’s little tirade had now caught the attention of the guards, who were cautiously making their way over towards window #7 to investigate. Faith noticed the guards coming over and silently pleaded with her eyes for Buffy to control her emotions.
Buffy saw what Faith was trying to imply, so she calmed herself down and brushed back the hair that had become loose around her face. She gave a small smile to the guards to let them know that everything was OK, and watched as they slowly walked back to their respective posts.
Faith took this opportunity to get a couple of words in.
“Listen B, I didn’t forget you. You were number one on my list, I swear, but I couldn’t think of what to say to you. Where could I even begin? Even though those letters were wicked brutal for me to write, they were a piece of fuckin’ cake when compared to tryin’ to write a letter to you. Nothin’ I can say or do can EVER make up for how I acted and what I did to you. I know that you can never forgive me, B. What I did was inexcusable. I guess that’s why I gave up on tryin’ to write you. I can’t make this better. So, gettin' back to your question . . . no, I never forgot about you. You’re pretty much all I think about.”
Buffy didn’t respond, at least not verbally. She simply sat back in her chair and closed her eyes.
A few minutes went by like this. Buffy had closed her eyes, obviously lost in her thoughts, and Faith didn’t want to interrupt her or make her any angrier than she already had.
Faith anxiously awaited a response from Buffy, strumming her fingers on the counter as she waited. Her eagerness finally got the best of her.
“B.”
No response.
“B?.”
Nothing.
“Hey, B? You still breathing over there?”
Still nothing.
“Buffy? C’mon, I can’t take this. What do you want me to do? What do you want me to say? Tell me, and I’ll do it. Just let me know that you’re not gonna jump through the glass and break my neck. And hey . . . if that’s what you wanna do, I won’t even stop ya. Of course, then it would be you sittin' on this side of the glass.” Faith began to ramble, so she stopped herself.
Buffy leaned forward, bringing herself closer to the glass. She took a breath as if she were about to say something, but stopped herself at the last minute.
Faith noticed that Buffy was going to say something, and now she wanted to know what it was.
“C’mon B. Say what ya gotta say. I can take it, I’m a big girl. I’m not gonna . . .”
“Tell me you’re sorry.” Buffy quietly interjected, her voice barely a whisper. Her green eyes now looking directly into Faith’s.
Faith was about to speak, but Buffy continued. “Tell me that you’re sorry for trying to hurt my friends and family; for betraying us; for rejecting our help, my help; for running away from your demons instead of confronting them; for passing blame. But Faith, I don’t want you to apologize for hurting me. Not yet.”
Faith jumped right in.
“I’m sorry, Buffy. I’m so sorry. For everything that you mentioned, and more. I polluted your life and the life of everyone that I came across from the second that I walked into Sunnydale. If I could take it back, I would. I would go back in time and let Kakistos kill me like he was tryin' to. But, both you and I know that I can’t go back. So, yeah, I’m sorry Buffy. And even though you don’t wanna hear it, I’m gonna fuckin' say it anyway: I’m sorry that I hurt you. I’d give my life to take back the hurt that I caused.”
Faith had said the last sentence so low that she could barely hear it. She wasn’t even sure if the words had escaped her lips, or if they were just a fleeting thought in her mind. Either way, she lowered her gaze from Buffy’s and waited for some kind of response from her sister-slayer.
However, Faith was distracted by the red light that began to flash near the window. ‘Shit, only 2 minutes left.’
Faith shifted her attention from the flashing red light to the small blonde that sat on the other side if the glass.
She was taken aback when she saw a few stray tears falling down Buffy’s face.
“Aww shit, B, don’t cry. C’mon, I didn’t mean to make you . . . man, I hate it when girls cry! I’m sor . . . shit! I’m still apologizing to you. Listen, we’ve got less than 2 minutes left. I don’t want you to leave here sad, so, come on. Get mad. Bash me, curse me, loathe me. Just stop cryin', please Buffy. Please?”
Faith felt utterly heartbroken looking at the crying figure in front of her. She had seen Buffy cry before, but this was different. Something was different. ‘Shit, I guess I gave her some deep scars. I never thought Little Miss Perfect could break.’
“Faith, I want to believe that you’re sorry for everything” Buffy said, emotionally exhausted. “I just don’t think I can do it today. Or tomorrow. Or next week. Or maybe even next year.”
“But maybe someday, right? Maybe you’ll be able to see how sorry I am someday, right B?” Faith was almost excited at that thought.
“Someday, Faith, I may believe that you are sorry. But forgiving you? That’s a whole different story.”
Buffy began to stand, knowing that they now had less that a minute left.
“Okay, I accept that, B. But I don’t want my last memory of you to be standin' here, crying.” A pause.
With nothing to lose, Faith decided to push the envelope a little. “Would you come back to see me? Even if it’s just to yell at me and throw things at the glass? Do you think that ya could? Or would? There’s a lot more that I’d like to say to you. It doesn’t have to be anytime soon . . . I’ve got nothin' but time. Twenty-five to life, actually.” ‘Shit, when did I start babbling so much? I must be channeling Red.’
Buffy thought about it, her internal conflict obvious upon her face. At one point in time, she had decided that Faith didn’t deserve the time of day. Still, something was nagging at her to let the other girl try to make her peace.
After a couple of seconds, she nodded her head affirmatively, then put the phone back on the receiver.
She grabbed her jacket and bag and turned to leave. However, before she left, she turned her head back and glanced at Faith, shooting her a slight smile before walking away.
‘So there’s hope . . .’ Faith thought as the guards led her away, and small smile playing upon her lips.
“Fleeting visits pass
Still they satisfy
Reminders of the next
Overshadow goodbye . . .
Here we are again saying goodbye
Still we'll fall asleep underneath the same sky”
-- The Nixons, “Sister”
When Faith had returned to her cell that day, she felt as if a large weight had been lifted off of her shoulders.
Did Buffy believe that she was sorry? Not yet . . . .
Did Buffy accept her apology? Not yet . . . .
Did Buffy forgive her? Not yet . . . .
But maybe someday . . . and that was all that Faith needed.
Two weeks had now passed since Buffy had visited. Faith had been in really good spirits for a few days following the visit. She figures that it had something to do with the little bit of closure that she got from the visit.
Even her sleep seemed to be affected. For those few days, she wasn’t riddled with nightmares and flashbacks, and their physical aftereffects. Maybe Faith felt good for those days simply because she was sleeping so well.
However, she noticed that something was missing. Not only was she not having nightmares or flashbacks, but she wasn’t dreaming at all. Her nights were silent and still as they should be, but they were filled with darkness.
To a normal person, dreamless or dark sleep wouldn’t be an issue. But to Faith, a person who had reached out and touched the darkness and was consumed by it, it seemed like a big deal.
Still, since there were no other negative side effects, she kept quiet and tried not to give it too much thought. For those few days, she felt a sense of . . . peace, for lack of a better word, and she didn’t want anything to interfere with that feeling.
Faith simply enjoyed her ‘peace’ while it lasted, because she knew it was too good to last. Not for her.
As expected, the peaceful time did not last. After about five days, it all came crashing down one evening in a series of nightmares and flashbacks.
Of course, Faith had been through each nightmare and each flashback before, usually one per every sleep episode. Individually, they had been enough to affect her as earlier described, with the rough breathing, sweating, pain, etc. Individually, those dreams had been almost too much for her to take.
On that 5th night when it all came crashing down, she had seen all of her nightmares and flashbacks consecutively. If one had been enough to cause her pain, imagine what it was like to see them all at once, then repeated over and over.
FAITH’S POV
‘What the hell? Why is the light so bright in my cell? Did I get a new cot or somethin'? And why the hell does it smell like a friggin’ hospital in here?’
I slowly open my eyes and start to look around me. The light is hurtin' my eyes, and I can’t seem to figure out why. ‘Enhanced Slayer-senses -- MY ASS!’ After a minute or two of tryin' to focus my eyes, I realize that I’m not in my cell anymore.
Yep. I’m in the infirmary.
There are a couple of nurses whirlin' back and forth in the room, too busy with other inmates to notice that I’m awake. I try to sit up, but I’m restrained.
“Hey? Hello? Umm . . . Miss?” I try to catch the attention of a short and stocky nurse that passes in front of me, but she scooted by too fast to hear my hoarse voice.
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice someone watching me from behind the glass wall. As soon as he saw me notice him, he tapped a nurse on the shoulder and walked into the room, coming towards me.
My eyes are still pretty blurry, and I can’t see him straight until he’s just a few feet in front of me.
“Faith, are you awake?”
“Angel? Is that you?” I ask while squinting my still-sensitive eyes.
“Yeah, it’s me. How do you feel?”
“Umm, kinda like I did mushrooms and got eaten by a bear.” I answer.
Angel was right next to me at this point. The face that he was wearing right now made his usually somber and broody face look like a kid smiling at an ice-cream truck. His face was stoic, almost unreadable. Hints of concern, compassion, solemnity, and . . . fear?
“Yeah, that about sums it up.” He replies.
I watch him closely as he checks me over anxiously like a mother hen. I finally get annoyed and get right to the point.
“So, are you gonna fill me in on what happened here, or are we gonna play 20 Questions?”
Angel looked at her earnestly, trying to figure out if she was being truthful or being a smartass.
“Faith, what’s the last thing you remember?”
By this point, the nurse had come over and was taking Faith’s vital statistics. Faith gave the nurse an annoyed look, trying to make her leave. The nurse caught on and left the two along to talk.
“Umm, I was in my cell, I just came back from dinner. I did a couple sets of sit-ups and push-ups, and decided to take a nap ‘cause I was kinda wiped out.”
Angel pulled up a chair to the bed and sat uncomfortably close. Knowing that he was about to give Faith some bad news, he took her hand in his as a means of comforting her.
“Faith, I . . you, umm . . . well, you see . . .”
“Spit it out already, Dead-Boy. My tolerance for bullshit is really low right now.” Faith stated, beginning to get a little antsy.
“Alright then. I got a call from the prison just over a week ago. They told me that you had some kind of an . . . episode . . . and that I should come down here as soon as possible.”
“Why’d they call you? It’s not like we’re related or anything.”
“True. But they don’t actually know that. Funny thing? They think that I’m your brother. I just never took the time to correct them.”
Faith laughed.
“Riiiiight. I guess they matched your ‘tall, dark, and broody’ to my ‘semi-tall, dark, and sultry.’ Guess no one ever cared to check your ID, right Bro?”
Angel gave her a quick smile, but it disappeared from his face almost as quickly as it had appeared.
“Faith, there’s more.”
“Well, bring it on, big-guy. I’m not gettin' any younger here. What’s the what?”
“Faith, when I got here, you were completely catatonic. Your body was here, but it was like you were . . . hollow. No response to light or any other stimuli.”
“Did you try waving a pizza under my nose? That usually gets my attention, or at least it . . .”
“Faith!” Angel interrupted. “This is serious, dammit. Do you think you can stop with the sarcasm and with for a minute and just listen to me?”
Faith fought back the anger, and tried to cover the surprised look that had popped up on her face.
“Geez, forgive me, Dad. By all means, continue.” Faith didn’t want to let on that she was actually pretty nervous. Hearing that she had been catatonic? Definitely frightening.
“As I was saying . . . you weren’t responding to anything. They thought that hearing my voice would bring out some kind of response, but there was nothing. It’s like you weren’t even in your body.”
“So, what made that happen to me? Did I get beat up while I was sleeping or something?”
“Well, according to the guards, they heard you . . . shrieking . . . and ran towards your cell. When they got there, they found you convulsing on the floor, screaming out like you were in pain. The Warden questions the Guards about your activities that day, and it seemed pretty routine. They said that you had your yard time and came back to your cell, leaving only to go to dinner. At 6:30, a guard noted that you were sleeping in your cell. They found you having your episode at about 8:00."
Faith thought about his words for a moment, and then spoke up.
“So, did someone drug my food or somethin'?” She asked, her concern now apparent. She realized that it may have had something to do with her sleep issues, but she needed to rule out some other possible causes before opening a whole new can of worms.
“No, I don’t think so. The infirmary ran all sorts of blood tests on you, and found that there were no irregularities or toxins in your blood. Plus, well, I . . . umm . . .” Angel stammered, knowing that what he was about to tell Faith would probably piss her off.
“What’s with the face, soul-boy? It looks like someone nailed your puppy to a wall. What are you holdin' back?”
“Umm, well, don’t get all stab-happy, okay?”
Faith nodded, so Angel continued.
“I know that we can definitely rule out any kind of drugs or poisoning, because, well . . . ergh, . . . Itastedyourbloodanditsclean.” Angel blurted out.
“You WHAT?!?” Faith yelled.
“I had to, Faith. We needed to be sure that the doctors didn’t miss anything.”
Faith understood, but she still didn’t like the idea.
“Ughh, Angel! That’s just so . . . gross, and wrong.” Faith joked. “Well, I hope ya liked it, ‘cuz Slayer-blood is SO off the menu from now on.”
“Don’t worry, Faith. If I ever get the craving, I guess I’ll just have to call that other Slayer.” Angel joked.
Faith laughed. “Riiiight, I’m sure she’ll go for that. Oh! And I hear that you get a punch-card for multiple donations. After 5 donations, you get a free ticket to hell.”
The two shared a laugh, almost forgetting where they were for a moment or two. However, Faith decided to continue on a little with the recent topic of conversation.
“So, umm, speaking of the other slayer, she didn’t by any chance bring up the fact that she, umm, came and, uh, y’know, visited me, did she?” Faith fidgeted and played with her IV while she asked, looking kind of shy and nervous.
Angel knew exactly what Faith was hinting at, so he decided to mess around with her a little before giving in.
“Hmm. Let me think. I know she said she was coming to LA . . . what was it for again? A haircut? Hmm. Yep, that’s it. She came for a haircut. She didn’t mention anything about a visit.” Angel replied with a coy little smile on his face.
Right away, Faith realized that Angel was messing with her, but it wasn’t really his persona to joke with people. So, she had to be sure.
“Angel . . . you’re fuckin with me, right? She asked, almost a little timid.
When Angel began laughing at her, she felt so stupid, and entirely embarrassed.
“Ha-fuckin-Ha. Pickin’ on the sick girl. I see how it is. Real nice, Angel. Hey . . . there’ a girl down the row with one arm. Maybe you wanna go ask her to clap for you.”
“Aww, what’s the matter, little Faith? You like to pick on people, but you don’t like it when the tables are turned, now do you?”
The two continued to joke for a couple of minutes, almost as if it were normal to them. It felt really good for Faith. She missed having ‘friends,’ even though she never really knew how to treat hers when she had them.
“Yes, Faith, Buffy told me that she came to see you. Apparently, she left here feeling a little differently than when she first arrived.”
“Yeah? How exactly d’ya mean? Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Faith inquired anxiously.
“She told me that she came here to bash you emotionally, and physically too if she got the chance. She was genuinely hurt that you would apologize to everyone around her, and then just forget about her in the process.”
“It’s not like that, Angel.” Faith explained, sounding kind of defeated. “I . . . I just didn’t know what to say to her. What do you say to the one person who always cared, and in turn – you totally fucked over? I didn’t forget her Angel. I lo . . ."
Faith stopped herself, realizing what she had almost just said aloud.
She loved Buffy . . . but she also loved leather, and Jack Daniels, and Nine Inch Nails, and her Marlboro Redpacks. But did she love love Buffy? She had never really thought about it in that context, but still, the words were just about to come spilling out of her mouth, and it felt all too natural for her.
She decided to cover up what she was about to say.
“ . . . lost my chance to be her friend a long time ago.” She finished. ‘Phew. Score one for the cunningly smooth Slayer' Faith thought.
Angel looked at her a little funny, but shook it off and continued.
“Well, that’s beside the point right now. All I know is that she came here wanting to yell at you and possibly beat you down. When she left, it was almost like she was happy to have seen you. When I asked her about it further, she only smiled and said that she was happy to have cleared up some of the tensions between the two of you.”
Faith smiled a little.
“Yeah, but she doesn’t believe that I’m sorry. She said that maybe one day she’d believe me, but not right away. Still, it gives me something to look forward to.”
Angel pondered what Faith had just told him. He looked at her with a little glint in his eye, and began to speak again.
“Faith, I can‘t be sure that what I’m about to tell you is 100% true, but I think that I know Buffy well enough to make an assumption here.” He paused, formed his thoughts carefully, and then continued. “I think that Buffy believes that you are sorry. More than that? I think she is already on the path to forgiving you, even though she would NEVER admit it.”
“Nahh, I don’t think so, Angel. I don’t think that there’s such a thing as ‘forgiving’ me, not for anyone. If people actually say the words ‘I forgive you,’ I know they’re just empty words. I understand, and I accept it.” Faith said sadly, but with a certain degree of certainty and acceptance.
“Listen to me for just a sec. When I lost my soul back in Sunnydale, I did some terrible things. I taunted, I maimed, I killed, I wreaked havoc . . . and I loved it. Buffy sent me to hell for what I had done. But the Powers-that-be sent me back for some twisted reason, and do you know what, Faith? Buffy forgave me. It took awhile, and I still may not have 100% of her trust, but she did forgive me. You just have to give these kind of things time.”
“Wait, you can’t compare apples to oranges here, Angel. Buffy forgave you because she loved you, and always will. You guys are like soul-mates . . . well, of the Shakespeare tragic-variety, anyways. There’s too much of a connection there for her not to forgive you.”
Faith waited for his response, which he gave right after he shot her a very knowing gaze.
“Yeah, well, you can’t deny your connection with Buffy either. Before Buffy, there had never been a case of ‘The Chosen Two.’ You guys share a Slayer connection that has never been experienced before. It’s more powerful than any human realization of a bond or connection. I might be her heart-soul mate, but you are her cosmic or mystic-soul mate. It can’t be denied, no matter how much hate or tension is between the two of you.”
Faith was kind of taken aback by the theory that Angel had just enlightened her with. She liked that idea of being Buffy’s ‘mystic-soul mate.’ She finally responded to him.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. The connection is wicked cool, too. Whenever she’s near me, I feel this warm buzz through my body. I can sense her, even when I don’t know exactly where she is. It’s pretty fuckin sweet.”
The two smiled at each other, and Faith began to yawn.
“Listen Soul-boy, I really appreciate you bein' here, but I’m hella tired, and those nurses are itchin’ to get up in here and check up on me. Why don’t you head home and get some rest, and I’ll do the same here, as soon as the nurses are done with me.”
“Actually, I’m kind of trapped here. It’s noon . . . sun’s out. You just rest, and I’ll stick around till sunset.”
Faith grabbed Angel’s hand as he stood up.
“Hey, Angel . . . thanks for . . . well, everything.” She smiled.
“No problem. Call me if you need me. I’ll be here for a couple of hours, and I’ll be back before first light.”
He gave her hand a quick squeeze and then turned to leave. He glanced back and gave her a soft smile as he walked out of the room, but the nurses were too busy hovering over for her to see.
The nurses took some blood and monitored her statistics before letting her drift off to sleep . . .
“She's a girl with the weight of the world on her big brown eyes
She's a girl who's been talking to herself to apologize
She'll never do it again she promised
But then she hasn't been all that honest “
-- Switchfoot, “Monday Comes Around”
In the Church, Faith (in Buffy’s body) walks along the back of the hall, towards the center of the aisle.
Vamp Leader: I thought I told the Cops, no one comes in here.
Faith: I’m not the cops.
Vamp Leader: Then why are you here?
Faith: I’m here to pray. (Raises her arms, looks around the building).
Vamp Leader: Slayer. Suit yourself. You can stay for the slaughter.
Faith: You are NOT going to hurt these people.
Vamp Leader: Yeah? And why not?
Faith: (Pause). Because it’s wrong.
Faith charges down the aisle, taking on the vampire minions as they come at her. She is holding herself quite well until the Vamp Leader gets a hold of her and pins her to a pew.
Vamp Leader: You can’t win. Adam has shown me the way. (He leans in to bite her neck, when suddenly he bursts into dust).
Faith gasps, only to see her own face looking back at her. Buffy (in Faith’s body) has found her, presumably so that she can switch bodies back.
Faith leaps forward and starts throwing blow after blow at Buffy, making contact and quickly gaining the upper hand. She throws Buffy down on the ground and pummels her face, knowing that it is her own face that she is looking at.
Faith: You think you scare me? You’re nothing! Dirty, disgusting, murderous bitch! You’re worthless. YOU ARE NOTHING!
As Faith went to throw another punch, Buffy grabbed her hand, activating the device that Willow had conjured for her. A bright green light envelopes the girls and throws them apart before it fades away.
Faith, now lying on the ground in her appropriate body, quickly realizes the situation and high-tails it out of the Church.
Cut to Faith in the boxcar on her way out of Sunnydale, her face bruised and bloodied.
A single tear falls down her cheek, emotion about to take over her. At that moment, her eyes turn completely black and her breathing hitches.
The somber look that had covered her face has been replaced with anger, and her fists clench tightly at her sides as the “Welcome to LA” sign appears through the boxcar doors.
"Faith? Faith?!? FAITH!?! Come on, wake up, Faith! You gotta wake up!"
Angel was leaning over Faith lightly shaking her, trying to break her out of her dream. Doctors and nurses had also surrounded her, machines and alarms going off in the background.
Having lost his patience, Angel finally took drastic measures and slapped Faith hard across the face. The nurses were looking at him like he was the antichrist, but they quickly forgot their harsh thoughts as they saw Faith rouse from her sleep, gasping and blinking her eyes.
“Faith! Are you okay? Are you with me here?” Angel asked, then turned his attention towards the doctors. “What the HELL is going on here?!?”
“Sir, you’ve been here the whole time, you’ve witnessed the entire thing.”
The tension that was building between Angel and the doctors quickly faded as they were interrupted by a weak voice.
“Angel . . . what happened?” Faith asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
The doctors and nurses didn’t leave the two alone to talk this time. As Angel began to talk to Faith, there was a buzz of activity around them.
“I was down the hall in the waiting area, reading like I had been for the last two hours. All of the sudden, I hear this loud shrieking noise, and I realized that it was you. I ran down here as quick as I could, and I found you thrashing in your sleep. The nurse was having trouble containing you, so I jumped in. You had this look on your face . . . like you were in pain. All of these alarms on the machines were going off, and your heart-rate was crazy and erratic. I grabbed you and tried shaking you awake, but it didn’t work. So . . . I slapped you, and uh, here we are.”
Angel gave her a timid smile as he took her hand.
A doctor who was reading a print-out sheet from one of the monitors approached Angel.
“Excuse me, sir? According to this print-out, your sister was dreaming when this episode occurred. Her heart-rate increased and her brainwaves became increasingly erratic. Tell me, has she ever had sleep disturbances or disorders in the past?”
Angel stole a quick glance at Faith, who shook her head and mouthed the word ‘no’.
“No, not as far as I remember.” Angel replied.
“Okay, well, we are going to have to run some more tests. She’ll definitely have to remain in the infirmary so that we can monitor her continuously. In the meanwhile, I’m going to order a drug that will suppress any dreams and nightmares. I’ll let you know as soon as we find anything out.”
Angel nodded his head and tried to put on a ‘brave face.’ “Thank you, Doctor.”
The doctor walked away, but several of the nurses remained, checking Faith’s IV and doing other basic testing and tasks.
After about a half hour, Angel and Faith were finally alone. He took the opportunity to question her about the episode.
“Faith, I need you to tell me what has been going on. This is getting dangerous now. If you’re holding anything back from me, you better let it go and tell me NOW.” His voice was completely serious and stern.
“Yeah, I guess it’s about time I fill you in.” She paused, trying to figure out the easiest way to tell him about the problems that had been plaguing her.
A hint of fear crept over her body, and Angel picked it up almost immediately. He tried to change the menacing look that he knew he was wearing, but he was angry, and it was too late to hide that fact right now.
Seeing the expectant and menacing look upon Angel’s face, Faith continued her explanation.
“You see, I’ve kinda been havin’ these dreams and nightmares. Not every night though, y’know? So I never really gave it too much serious thought. I just figured, you know, part of the whole ‘rocky path’ gig. Some of the dreams only make me kinda queasy, while others wreak havoc on me for a while.”
Angel seemed to lose his already-thin patience even a little more at this point.
“Okay, a couple of questions. One: How long have you been having these nightmares? Two: What are the nightmares of? Three: Why the hell did you wait to tell me for so long? And Four: You mean the nightmares are actually having a physical effect on you?”
His words had gotten angrier and louder as they came out of his mouth, and he spoke through clenched teeth. Faith could tell that he was genuinely pissed off.
“Alrighty. Well, one . . . I’ve been having the dreams since I came here, maybe even a little before then.” She winced a little while waiting for a response, but she received none, so she quickly continued.
“Two . . . the dreams are not so much ‘nightmares’ as they are flashbacks of my past. Ranging from when my Step-dad used to beat me, to my dark days in Sunnyhell and LA. Three . . . I figured that with the whole ‘redemption’ thing, I would have to deal with my past coming back to haunt me. I’m a virgin at this whole redemption thing, so, I don’t really know what to expect, y’know? What doesn’t kill me makes me stronger, right? And, Four . . . yeah, the dreams affect me physically. Some days aren’t so bad though, like I said before.”
“Tell me exactly what happens to you when you wake up” Angel demanded.
“Uh, well, it varies. Mostly, my breathing is wicked messed-up. Hot sweats. Cold sweats. Tremors. Pain in my head that takes a little detour throughout my body before going away. But if I meditate for a while, like you showed me, it makes the symptoms . . . a little more bearable.”
Angel just stared at her in amazement.
“So, you mean to tell me that not a single red-flag went up in your head when all of this went down? Faith, you should know that this isn’t normal! Slayer-sense? . . . my ass!”
“Yeah, that’s what I said!” Faith excitedly agreed. However, she quickly sobered back up at the face that she was receiving from Angel.
She continued, sounding exasperated. “Aww, Angel, I don’t know, man! I’m all fucked up. I’m outta my element here! My first month in prison, I coulda swore I felt some kind of a supernatural presence, y’know? There are no demons OR vamps here, so I figured . . . me? Crazy. Either that, or my Slayer-senses were all fucked up. I went for the latter, and I just left it at that.”
The two had significantly raised their voices over the last few minutes. They had attracted the attention of a few nurses who were now lingering in the area, trying to be inconspicuous as they eavesdropped.
Angel took notice, and immediately tried to calm himself and act rationally. He lowered his voice to just above a whisper and directed his attention back towards Faith.
“Look, this isn’t natural, and I think that we can both see that now. I think that there is something mystical at work here, and we need to get to the bottom of it before . . .”
“Right . . . before.” Faith cut him off, not wanting him to finish his thought.
“I’m gonna call Wes and ask him to look into this. He’ll probably contact Giles . . . that is, as long as you don’t mind him knowing about the situation. You don’t, do you?”
“Umm, no, I guess not. I don’t know if they’ll be able to help, but I don’t mind the effort and all. I’ll tell them whatever they need to know.” She conceded.
“Okay.” Angel looked down at his watch and noticed the time. “Listen, Cordy is gonna be here shortly to pick me up, sunset is soon. But I’ll be back first thing in the morning. I’m going to make sure that the doctors give you that medicine to suppress your dreams, and I’ll tell them to contact me right away in anything else happens. Until then, sit tight and rest. I’ll try to have some answers for you in the morning.”
Faith nodded her head.
Angel leaned over and placed a kiss on her forehead before he turned to leave. When he got to the door, he turned and flashed her a comforting smile, which she tried to return.
But, her smile was fake, and it was quite obvious. Faith was genuinely scared now. She wasn’t sure if she was going to make it through this.
As promised, Angel returned to the prison first thing in the morning. When he arrived at the infirmary and signed in as a visitor, a guard made his way over to Angel and lightly tapped him on the shoulder.
Angel turned to face the uniformed man.
“Excuse me, Mr. Kincaid?”
Angel nodded.
“Sir, the Warden has requested that you come to his office for a meeting. Now that you’re here, your sister will be taken there to join in as well.”
“Oh.” Angel replied, somewhat apprehensive as to what the warden wanted. “Okay. Well, is my sister stable enough to be moved? I can carry her if . . .”
The guard quickly interrupted with an amused laugh.
“No, Sir, that won’t be necessary. She’s stable at the moment, and will be able to stand a short trip in a wheelchair. So, if you’ll just follow me?” The guard began to walk down the corridor, looking over his shoulder just to make sure that Angel was in tow.
A short walk and several security checkpoints later, Angel and the guard arrived at a large mahogany door. A second guard had seen them approaching and spoke into an intercom announcing their arrival.
“Warden Drake is expecting you. Please go in.” The second guard announced, pointing to the mahogany door.
Angel nodded and made his way to the door, knocking gently before entering.
“Enter.” He heard a voice on the other door command.
Angel walked into the office and was surprised by what he saw before him. The room looked more like a library or a study than an office. Bookshelves lined all four walls, except for one area where there was a small fireplace. Pictured and framed certificates sat upon some of the shelves, while books and odd little trinkets and gadgets sat upon others.
Out of the corner of his eye, Angel caught a glimpse of someone sitting near the Warden at the fireplace.
“Faith.” Angel uttered and he quickly stepped over to her.
She turned her head to him and smiled. “Hey. Good to see ya, Angel.”
“How are you feeling? Did you have any more episodes? You look better.” He lied. She was looking very pale and . . . fragile? Tired? Weak? Something he had never really seen on her before.
“Thanks. Yeah, I got through the night just fine. No nightmares, no pain. No nothing, really. Just sleep. I almost forgot what that was like.”
At this point, the Warden stood up and held out his hand to Angel, who returned the gesture in a strong handshake.
“Allow me to introduce myself. I am warden Julius Drake.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Angel.” He looked to Faith, who was giving him a funny look. “Oh! Kincaid. Angel Kincaid. Yep, that’s me. Faith’s brother, Angel Kincaid. No middle name. You know, because . . . Mom and Dad . . . didn’t like any.” Angel babbled nervously.
“Ah, yes, of course.” Drake replied, his English accent very thick. He continued. “So, that would make you her . . . older . . .brother, yes?”
In a nervous gesture, Angel shot his eyes to Faith, who nodded very inconspicuously. Both were a little nervous, knowing that they could potentially be caught in a lie.
“Yep, I’m her older brother. That would make her . . . younger.”
All three remained quiet for a few moments. Faith closed her eyes and shook her head, in disbelief that Angel was doing such a shitty job lying.
Drake finally broke the awkward silence.
“How many years apart are the two of you?” he asked, obviously trying to dig a little deeper.
“Oh, you know. A few.” Angel answered and laughed nervously.
“Yes, well I believe that two-plus centuries is a tad bit more that a few” Drake answered very matter-of-factly, a mischievous grin playing upon his lips.
Both Angel and Faith were now staring at the man with shocked expressions on their faces. How could he possible know about Angel? More importantly, if he knew about Angel, then did he know about Faith? and demons? and all of that other mumbo-jumbo? If so, what did that make him?
Angel’s wide-opened mouth quickly bent up into a nervous half-smile. He tried to cover.
“What? That’s just . . . impossible. Because . . . you know, umm, humans . . . including me! . . . life expectancy, not that long . . .” Angel stammered.
Warden Drake just looked on amused as Angel spoke, a slight smile upon his face.
By this point, Angel knew he was busted, so he just gave up.
“ . . . and . . . I don’t really look over 200, do I?”
At that, Drake chuckled aloud, and Faith rolled her eyes.
“No, Angel, I don’t believe that you look a day over . . . 27? 28?” Drake replied lightheartedly.
Angel, Faith, and Warden Drake were now sitting around the fireplace with only a small amount of the earlier tension remaining in the room. Angel decided to get to the bottom of things.
“So, would you mind telling me exactly how you know about me, Warden Drake?”
“I am aware of many things, Angel. I am aware that you are a vampire, formerly known as Angelus, and that you are now ensouled and on a quest for redemption. I am aware that Miss Kincaid here is a Slayer, one of two, actually. A truly rare occurrence by any standards. I am aware that you have aided the Slayers and the Powers-that-Be, and that I can trust you to trust me.”
“Okay. So, now I know what you know, but I still don’t know how you know it. Are you a Watcher?”
Drake simply chuckled at the question. Faith sat silently and observed the exchange between the two men with interest.
“No, I’m not a Watcher, though I have been associated with them on more than one occasion. As for what I am, well, that’s quite difficult to explain. I began my life as a man. Years into my life, I ascended this plain and became a higher being, closely associated with the Powers-that-Be. But, I missed my association with the world below me. I loved the earth, and I loved the men and women who walked upon it. I felt bound to it, and I longed to walk upon it once again. The Powers granted me that wish, and I was sent back to the earth; more that a man, less than a god. I suppose that you could consider me an oracle, a prophet, a seer, a mystic, a shaman. I’m not quite limited to one title, as I hold many different powers and abilities. For your purposes, you may consider me a mystic, as that is how I am most relevant to you.”
Faith finally spoke up.
“So, how’d you end up here, as Warden of this prison? I’d think that you would’ve picked something a little . . . ritzier? Y’know? Like . . . King of Guam, or Emperor of Earth, or The Grand Puba or something.”
Drake chuckled yet again.
“Yes, I imagine that “King” or ‘Emperor’ might have been more regal, but that was not my calling. Understand this: though it is my choice to help as I see fit, I am often given ideas as to where my help may be needed. Many years ago, it was revealed that a ‘warrior of the people’ would lose her way, and that she would need protection and guidance as she found her way. Now, I’ve already told you that I love the earth and its inhabitants. I was offered a chance to help a defender of good and of the people that I love. I graciously accepted.”
“So, you knew then. You knew what would happen to me, that I would end up here.” Faith stated, her tone more questioning that sure.
“No, not quite. First, I wasn’t aware that ‘the girl’ would be a Slayer, though I did have my suspicions. Next, I had no idea that it would be you, Faith. Not even when you were sent here did I know that you were the girl I was waiting for. I had to find out by my own means. Lastly, I did not know what circumstances would bring you here to me, whether it be armed robbery, assault, or . . . well, murder.”
Faith immediately lowered her head in shame. He continued anyway.
“Don’t hang your head, Faith. What I’m going to reveal to you will ultimately change what you think you know about what happened in your past. Please . . .” he gently placed his hand under her chin and lifted her head so that their eyes met, “. . . let me finish. I promise, it will be worth the wait.”
Faith nodded sheepishly, and Drake continued.
“Excellent. So, as I was saying, I had been expecting ‘the girl’ for some time. Every evening, I would do a locator spell of sorts, searching for mystical energies throughout the prison. Then, just over a year ago, I finally felt the mystical energy that I had been looking for, and it was you. Through a series of different confirmations, I determined that you were one of the Chosen two, and that you were that the one for whom I had been waiting.”
“So, I wasn’t crazy when I first came here! My slayer-sense was going off. I knew I felt something mystical in this place. But then It was just gone. It was you, wasn’t it?” Faith asked.
“Yes, it was me. It took me too long to realize that you would be able to feel me as well. I did a cloaking spell on my magic shortly after you arrived, and that is why you haven’t been able to sense it since then.”
“I guess it all makes sense then. But, on a somewhat unrelated topic . . . are you still workin’ the magic-mojo on me? Is that why my dreams are tryin’ to kill me?”
“No, Faith, I wouldn’t try to hurt you. As I said, I’m here to protect and help you. But, I have sensed some other energies as well. Two types, to be exact. The first one is nothing to worry about, I believe. It seems that the other Chosen, Buffy, has been trying to feel you with her slayer-sense. I can feel her energy mostly every evening, but I have sensed no negative consequences as of yet. There is not hatred or malevolence on her part.”
Faith had become slightly distracted at the mention of Buffy. ‘So, she’s been trying to sense me? Must want to make sure that I’m still rottin’ away in here and not wreaking havoc out on the streets. But, why isn’t there hatred? I’m pretty sure that she’s gotta hate me after all that I did. If I were her, I would hate me. I’ll have to check up on that another time.’
She was brought back to attention my Drake, who continued his explanation.
“Then, there is the second type of energy that I have been feeling, and this one is not ‘nice’ like the energy from your sister-slayer. It is a dark energy, pure of form and lacking a point of origin, at least as far as I’m able to sense. I can’t be sure where it is coming from, but it is aimed directly at you, Faith. It surrounds you at times, completely engulfing you, hence your dreams and episodes. It is slowly draining you, slowly but surely. I fear that in time, it will eventually take over you completely, or kill you. The effect it has on you is almost like a remote-control self-destruct button.”
“Shit.” Faith replied. She was suffering from a total and utter lack of words. Fear was not a strong enough word to describe what she was feeling.
Angel finally broke his silence.
“So, you don’t know where the dark energy is coming from, we get that. But can you stop it, or distract it? He asked almost impatiently.
“I’m sorry, but this is not a type of magic that I can stop or fix. It is far too dark and dangerous. But, like all things mystical, there has to be some sort of a countermeasure. We simply need to find and launch it. And that, my friends, is why I have called you both here to meet with me.”
Faith unconsciously laughed aloud at Drake.
“Yeah, well, I really don’t think there’s too much that I can do about it while I’m in here. Plus, I’ve been a little too horizontal even for my own liking as of late. I’m useless in this search, at least for now.” Faith noted sarcastically.
“Precisely.” Drake said with a knowing smile. “This is where I come in. I’m going to release you, Faith. You are like a sitting duck here, and you can be better protected and studied outside of these walls. As the Warden of this prison and as a mystic, I’ll be able to change some of the paperwork and release you on good behavior. For aggravated assault, not murder.”
Both Faith and Angel looked a little shocked. They met each other’s gaze, and then turned to Warden Drake.
“You can do that?!?” they asked simultaneously, a hint of skepticism and disbelief lingering in their voices.
“Yes, I can, and I will.” He stated with a proud smile. Then, his face turned serious and he looked to Faith. “Having two Slayers at one time is a truly rare occurrence. The world will be a better and safer place with you living in it, helping as you go along. True, the events of the past have hindered your growth as a Slayer, but I don’t believe that you are solely at fault. The dark energies appear to have been around you for a while now, beyond your time in prison.”
Angel interrupted.
“Wait . . . are you implying that the dark energies may have controlled her at some point or another?”
Drake nodded.
“Yes, I believe that may have been a contributing factor to her allegiance shift. I’ll speculate even further and assume that the darkness wants back in her, and that is why she has been plagued by the nightmares and dreams. It all seems to be inter-connected. The dark magic is too much for her, and it is slowly breaking her down. We need to find a way to stop the dark magic before the darkness consumes or kills her.”
“Geez. Don’t you think it would be easier to just let whatever this is kill me? A new pliable and trainable Slayer will be called, and no one will have to put up with this shit.”
“No, I don’t think that would be easier, nor would it benefit anyone. First, a human life, your life, would be lost, and that is more than I am willing to risk. Second, you are already too closely tied to the other Chosen. If that bond is broken, the other Slayer would no doubt feel lost and alone again. Her duties would be shirked, and she would be lost to us. As I said before . . . to have two Chosen is a rare and unique occurrence. A gift. It would be tragic for us to lose it.”
Faith nodded, as if she understood what Warden Drake was trying to imply. However, she was jumping and smiling on the inside. Simply know that she shared such a great bond with Buffy made her almost giddy.
After a moment or two of silence, Drake spoke up again.
“I trust that you have someone on the outside that can help research this for you?”
Angel thought about it, and then nodded.
“Umm, Wes is an ex-Watcher, so he can definitely help with the research aspect. Cordy has visions, so maybe she can find a way to tap into them to look into this for us.”
“Yes, that is a good start. But I think that more help will be needed. Faith is in an extremely fragile state, and will need someone by her side to protect her from harm.”
“Yeah, well, vampire here, with the super strength and senses, and the resilience, and the grrr and argh. I think I’ve got it covered.” Angel responded sounding kind of hurt that Drake would forget his abilities.
“Yes, of course. But tell me, Angel: What happens during the daylight hours? Can you defend her at all times of the day?”
Angel didn’t reply. He simply hung his head, defeated.
Drake spoke again.
“Exactly. I know that you may not like this idea . . . but I think you need to call upon the other Chosen. She alone can offer the protection that Faith needs.” A pause. “I know that she is busy on the Hellmouth, so it may be in both your and her interest for you to go to her. Her Watcher is very knowledgeable and wise, and will help without putting up a fight. He will not want to fail Faith yet again.”
Angel and Faith glared at each other for a couple of moments, both hesitant to agree with the idea. However, they both knew that it was the best plan of action at the moment.
“Well then, saddle up, boys and girls. I guess we’re off to Sunnydale.” Faith conceded as she threw up her hands in defeat.
...continued in chapter 11...