Resolution
by Kelly Smith
Rating: NC-17
POV Faith.
Sitting here holed up in a closet. I swear I’ve finally fucking gone mad. Like really mad, not with the evil, just with the insanity. It’s like being a kid again. Acting out, playing up… then when the attention finally came I’d shit myself. Terrified. Run up to my room and shut myself away in the closet. Oh the fucking memories. Just like living the past.
I didn’t mean to play up tonight though. Really. I just got stupid. Listened to the voices in my head.
We had slammed the music back on after the gifts, a bit too loud, trying to drown out the worries, quieten down all the heartache. I thought it was working, thought the smiles were real, the laughter true. Everyone moving, dancing for fun. It wasn’t true though, and maybe true happiness IS just a myth?
I’d been stopping my gaze from straying too much, from searching her out at every opportunity. And God knows I wanted to. Just wanted to rest my eyes there and never let them stray, no reason to ever move from the thing that can hold them captivated. I fought to keep them busy, to meet the gaze of the ones I was speaking to, half the time forgetting to listen so hard was the task… and when I did falter, when my eyes flicked up as if they were being called? Then I caught her looking too. Straight back at me.
A seconds recognition before she tore them away, hurried them to different places, hidden from view. Other times longer. Less recognition, more just the truth. Like she accepted that my eyes were the right place to look, that maybe there were answers there… and then she would realise that she was doing it, I’d see it come over her… little embarrassed smile, but still slower to pull her gaze away.
I wonder what I could do to make her keep on looking, to never make her feel like she had to take her eyes away from me.
When we were dancing I just assumed that she was there, not at my side where I would want her to be, but with the others, with her friends. I couldn’t search, was throwing myself into my task, matching Cordy move for move… impressing on the witches just how damn fine us LA girls are. Dancing becoming my only real focus. And then I couldn’t find her.
A quick sweep over a small crowd, and no, she wasn’t there. I excused myself from them, strode into the kitchen, out to the yard… not a sign. Headed for the bathroom, no one there. It pretty much left only one place she could be, the one place I shouldn’t go. The one room I’d never be getting an invite to. Her bedroom.
I was gonna ask one of the others, one of the witches maybe… just go up and check, go see that she’s ok. That she doesn’t need anything. But I was listening to the voices, the ones which told me not to worry the others, to just go sneak a peek myself, a little soft knock on a door… what harm could it do? Fucking genius.
My gut was churning all the time it was pulling me there, the stairs so hard to climb, the passage so hard to walk. I made it though. Stood before the door as if that alone could grant me entry. My hand wavering just the tiniest bit as I sought to bang a knock.
Tap, tap, tap. Sounded like my heart.
“Yeah?”
“B… you ok?”
“Faith?”
The surprise in her voice was pretty plain to hear, I guess she was as shocked as I was to find myself standing at her bedroom door. I figured on speaking. The silence was doing nothing for the nerves. “Uh-huh… I just wondered…”
“You can open the door.”
I could? That didn’t do much for the nerves either. I turned the handle slowly, didn’t wanna break a moment. Didn’t know why I was in one.
She was sat up on her bed, her knees drawn up under her again, chin resting, eyes red stained from crying. It stopped the tapping of my heart, it made my heart freeze. I hated seeing her like this, hurting like this. It made me speak so softly, so quietly. “Hey come on… what’s up? What’s wrong?”
My legs had carried me to her side, my knees bending to sit me down next to her. My arms were itching to find her, to envelope her in something other than the pain, but I couldn’t. Way too much, way too soon.
She turned her eyes to me, sank them into mine. Such a powerful fucking moment. I swear she was looking at me like she hadn’t looked at me in years, just me and her, before shit, without shit. I melted. I opened my eyes wide for her… showed her everything. Like I used to. Hoped that this time it would be enough. That it wouldn’t be too soon.
I was holding her before I knew it, my body shaking with the force of her sobs, my heart breaking from the force of what she was showing me. How could anything hurt this much? I struggled to find words, to make my voice work, to stop it from faltering. “Let it out B… it’ll be okay… come on, it’s all gonna be okay.” And so damn much I prayed that I wasn’t lying, wasn’t telling her anything except the truth.
She didn’t believe me, I know she didn’t. I felt as she tensed in my arms, her chest hitching as she fought to stop the tears and catch her breath. I held her tighter, begged her not to pull away from me. To end this already. I just wanted to be there for her. To catch her if she fell.
She didn’t move. She stayed rigid, but she didn’t move. Her words drifting up to me, harsh from the tears. “You don’t know Faith, you don’t know that it’s gonna be ok, you don’t even know if it can be okay. You don’t know anything.”
She wasn’t incriminating me with the words, just telling it how she saw it. What she believed the truth to be. I wanted to disagree. I had to… what was the point otherwise?
“I do know, B. It has to, it might not seem like it… like everything’s gone to shit, but it will. It does. You just gotta believe in it.”
I sounded like an absolute idiot. Just believe in it B? How inspiring.
“I can’t believe in it. I want to… but you don’t know.” She ripped herself up from the bed then, tore herself from my arms, left me stunned. Just watching her pace. All those shutters were smashing back down over her face, the hate back in the eyes. Her words came heavy, cutting with the weight. “You don’t understand Faith, you haven’t got a damn clue, a moments idea of what the hell all this is…” She threw her arms around, encompassing everything. “…it’s all crap! My whole world is crap.” She came to rest against the wall. Her shoulders sagging after her outburst. I rose slowly, wondered at going to her again, wondered if she was done. Her voice stopped me in my tracks. It was so fucking painful, hearing her speak… not knowing what she meant. Not knowing how to stop it. “If you knew Faith… if you understood… you wouldn’t come near me, none of you would come near me.”
I didn’t believe her. “Nothing’s that bad Buffy. Nothing could ever be that bad.” I spoke for myself, there wasn’t anything that would turn me from her, make me stop feeling for her. Look at everything I have done… things I enjoyed doing. Things which I knew were fucked up and wrong, evil and bad… but still I did them. Still I chose to do them.
“You don’t know.”
“Tell me.”
She was shaking her head before her eyes met mine. Back and forth. Denying me, denying her. Silent tears were starting to fall, not wracking her body this time, not making her shake… just falling. Slipping out as if that’s all they knew how to do. Just had to get out.
I asked her again. Begged her again. “Tell me, B.”
“I can’t.”
I wanted to scream out in frustration! How the fuck could I make it better if she wouldn’t fucking tell me?
I walked my way into her space, stood right in front of her, appealed with everything I was. Naked eyes asking for naked truth. “Tell me.” I whispered it, hoped it would slip past defences.
Her eyes were pleading with me to stop, her head still shaking. It scared the shit out of me to think what it could be. I hadn’t a fucking clue… but she was falling apart. Whatever it was, it was ripping her to pieces.
I found her with my arms again. I didn’t know what else to do, how to stop it, how to fix it. I let my hand wander up to head, let fingers stroke back hair, held her against my shoulder. “It’s ok… it doesn’t matter, just shush… you don’t have to tell me…”
I could wait. I would wait. I didn’t want to push her. To break her.
I stayed there until I realised where I was. In Buffy’s room, holding her in my arms. I almost jumped back. Just stopped myself. Untangled limbs slowly. Her face was awash with the tracks from her tears and I wanted to taste them. To reach out my tongue and kiss the pain from her face. It made me step back, made me give myself distance.
I felt so fucking vulnerable, she looked so fucking vulnerable. It wasn’t the time to make grand gestures with my tongue. And so what if the voices kept saying it? Kept urging me to test out the softness of her lips, to slide my hand behind her neck and tease them closer to me? I couldn’t. Not now.
I thought about words to soften the moment. To take away the undeniable feeling of wanting her. Wanting to hold her again. Hold her more. “Are you okay?”
I know it wasn’t great, but I had nothing. I just wanted her.
I could see so many things crossing her eyes, her face, and not one of them made sense to me. I thought I saw longing and desire and need. A need like I had for her. It confused me again, made me walk the step back to her.
There was so much shit swirling in that room right then, at that moment. Too much emotion, too much confusion. I should’ve just left, not stepped back to her. Not let the roughness of my fingertips trace a path up to her face, not allowed the quiet gasp she gave to sink through all my levels… not let so little mean so much.
I could feel my own tears wanting to fall. For her, for me, for us. So many tears. So many years of hurting. I just wanted one answer. One answer to a question. My only question.
I waited until her eyes were in line with me, no makeup to cower behind, no one to stop me from opening my mouth, just me and her. Feeling it fizzing through me, touching every part of me, burning, scorching. I looked at her honestly, only asked for it back. “Do you feel it B? This…” I let my hand trail from the patterns it was making on her face, down between us, touching neither but the current. The charge. “…tell me you feel it?”
She had to. It was holding me prisoner before her… she had to feel it. Feel something.
Her gaze was begging me to believe yes, but her body was going rigid… her head starting to shake, her eyes sliding shut, clenched shut. “I… Faith, it’s not that easy…”
“Buffy, I’m not asking you for anything… I just need to know that you feel it…”
I was praying for her to stop, to just fucking let it be. Accept it. She opened her eyes again and stared at me. Looked into me, through me. She gave a tired sigh, nodded her head so slightly, whispered her words, barely speaking them. “Ok… I feel it… I feel you…”
It was all that mattered. My forehead found hers and she did let it be. Just for a moment, just that feeling. Every hope, every dream held in that single instant. I still could have walked away then. Made it out ok. But I didn’t. I looked for more. The tip of my nose grazing softly against hers, moving my head down, opening my lips so slightly… pressing against her mouth, sighing into her. My hand reaching up to slide behind her neck the way the voices had said it would be… holding her to me.
I could feel her yielding, feel her tasting my lips like I was tasting hers. Soft sighs in reply to my own. My one second when the whole of my fucked up life was perfect. Complete.
I knew what was coming. Could feel her tighten, her body stiffening for retreat. Her lips pulled away and her head again was shaking, confirming what couldn’t be. What she wouldn’t let be. “I can’t… I can’t do this Faith, please… I just can’t do this.”
It was like a slap to the face. Worse. It hurt more than a knife to the gut. I knew she felt me, I knew she felt this… why the fuck couldn’t she just allow it. Give over to it?
I pushed my self back from her, paced the floor I had watched her pacing. I was so sick of it. She was still there by the wall, still looking broken… still looking worn. I had enough. So much of enough. I knew I could help, knew I could make her feel better… knew I could make her feel… but she wouldn’t let me. Was rejecting me again. Pushing me away again.
“This is bullshit B… fucking bullshit!” Yes it was harsh, but damn it, I felt it! I didn’t know where the fuck I stood here, never had, maybe never would. “You can’t… fuck it! You can’t let me kiss you like that and then push me away… damn it B, it doesn’t work like that. It can’t work like that!”
I wanted to crush myself against her. To slam my body so hard against hers that the whole fucking house shook, I wanted her to feel me alright, all fucking over. Inside, outside. Such a powerful feeling.
She was crying again. Tears again. It softened my desire, drove me crazy with too much to feel. “B… just stop it. Just stop it, ok?…” I watched her slide down the wall, watched her arms go round her head to keep it all in, to keep me out. “…this will never get better if you won’t let anybody in… you have to let people in.” She wouldn’t raise her head again. Wouldn’t look at me. Acknowledge me. I was sick of it. Sick of all of it. “I can’t do this B, I can’t help you unless you want help…”
Oh then the head rose. Eyes boring into me. “You think you can cure me with kisses Faith? You think you can kiss it all better… you haven’t a clue… not a clue…”
“Well tell me then!”
“I can’t!”
“You won’t!”
I stood looking down on her, watched the defiance come across her face, the same old me and B story. Every step closer seems to drive us further apart. “Just go Faith… please, just go.”
To right I was going. This place was so fucked up, it was her birthday for Christ sake, she had a house full of friends and all she could do was sit up in her room crying her eyes out. Bemoaning a life that she wasn’t even living. “I’ll go, I stay any longer I might give ya a reason for the tears B…” I swept my hand through my hair, sighed a fucking eternal sigh. “…you have to try and make things better, no one can do it for you… no one can get in unless you let them in.”
It was my last try. My last attempt to throw her a lifeline. To stop her from sinking.
“I… I can’t Faith. I just can’t.”
Fuck off!!!
I looked at her with some kind of disgust. She just wouldn’t try and I couldn’t respect that. I turned from her, showed her my back. I was only human too, and the girl was ripping ME to pieces. I couldn’t let her, I had too much to lose.
I pulled the door shut hard, maybe slammed it, stomped down the stairs with thunder on my face. Cordy was still embroiled with the witches, Dawn showing them some kind of Britney Spears move, all flashy with her fancy hair and clothes. It didn’t calm me. I wanted out. I needed out.
“Cordy, we’re going.”
My voice was gruff and harsh, caused them all to look at me questioningly. Fuck that. They wanted answers they could go ask B. I didn’t have a clue.
“Going? Going where?”
“Come on…” I put my arm on hers to pull her away, she gave in, her eyes trying to work out what had happened. “…guys I’m sorry, but I gotta split… I’ll catch ya later.”
Tara stood shaking her head, sadness plain on show. That girl just sees everything, wouldn’t surprise me if she guessed what had just gone down upstairs. Red looked kinda spooked, like she wanted to find Buffy and now, wanted to check that I hadn’t gone all rage girl on her. Dawn just looked upset. I felt for her, but I needed out.
I waved across the room at the others, dragged Cordy to the door. Went to open the door.
Tried again.
Cordy tried to open the door.
I tried to get close enough to rip the fucker from its hinges.
Nothing was working. It was like we just couldn’t do it. Couldn’t get close to it. Feet freezing. Body tensing. But nothing. No movement. It was fucked up.
“Cordy..?”
“I don’t know.”
The others had come to our side. All of them attempting to do what we couldn’t. No one could. We were stuck there… all of us, and none of us knew why.
“I should get Buffy, she’d want to know this was happening.”
I looked at Red, wanted to scream that no, getting B was a bad idea. I didn’t wanna see her again. I had just made my leaving speech. Fuck, I’d just kissed her and then made my leaving speech. I couldn’t see her now. Wouldn’t see her now.
So I’m in the closet.
Surrounded by junk, by the voices in my head. They know I’m in here, it’s pretty fucking obvious that I‘m in here, but I don’t care. I need a little space, a little time alone. I don’t need to be trapped in a house with Buffy.
It’s getting really late now, the darkness screaming at me. Slayer urges. To hunt, to kill. To feel. It’s making me antsy, making me tense. Making me think I’ll be staying in the closet till morning at least. It’s safer that way. Easier. For everyone.
Warren paced relentlessly back and forth in front of the trembling Demon, he was waiting to hear what had been wished for, if it was the thing that he had wanted, the thing that would make all of his plans sail along a lot more smoothly, make everything easier.
“Well..? Tell me! What did she wish for?”
“I told you already, a girl's wishes are a secret.” Halfrek stood before him wondering what the hell was going on in the world that she was stood before this mere human boy even considering answering his questions. The natural order of things had been corrupted… something was coming, of that she was sure. But what it was? How powerful it was? She was only just realising. “I did your bidding, that was the deal…”
“No! You do not tell me what the deal is…” He stood before her, perfectly still, let the power resonate through him, all over him, in the stand of his feet, the set of his shoulders, the evil of his eyes. “…you do as I say!”
The demon fought to keep her own shoulders straight, to keep her own eyes level. Yes she knew what this was… the place the power was coming from. It was all around him, the taste of pure undiluted evil, and it scared her. Made her remember just how fragile immortality could actually be. “You don’t know what you’re messing with… the power…” Her voice dropped low, her head shaking. “…stupid boy.”
“You had better not forget what ‘you’re’ messing with!” He was sick of her non compliance, her lack of respect. He walked into her space, brought the back of his hand crashing against the side of her face. “Now tell me what she wished for!”
Halfrek’s words were not spoken loud enough to be heard, the shock of being struck by this mortal keeping her voice from working. Warren stalked up to her again. Drew his hand back again.
“Okay… she wished that people would stop leaving her.”
“What?”
“That they would stop leaving…”
“Andrew!”
The blonde boy skulked slowly out of the shadows, this wasn’t so enjoyable anymore. What had started out as a fun times quest to rule the world had actually turned into a really REALLY evil plan to destroy the world. He wasn’t so keen on the new idea. Preferred the old one. The one where everything usually went wrong so they sat around playing D&D instead. The new one meant people would die. Lots and lots of people.
“Yes Warren?”
“Seems we have a problem… a little bit of misinformation…”
“Uh… what’s the problem?” He could feel himself starting to shake, he hated it. Used to be he’d shake with anticipation when Warren fixed him with his gaze, now it just made him want to run. Hide. Possibly cry.
“What did you say Dawn would wish for?”
“I said…” He tried to remember. But that was ages ago, over a week ago… it wasn’t like Warren normally listened to him. “…I’m not sure. What did I say?”
“You said she wished her sister had stayed dead.”
“Oh…” He kinda remembered that, it was a throwaway comment though, not one that ever meant anything. Dawn didn’t confide in him, he had to say something. It seemed like something she might have maybe wished for. “…didn’t she wish for that?”
“No you imbecile!” Warren turned from them and paced the room… he was so sick of the constraints on him. He could feel his master ready to burst forth, ready to reclaim a place so long ago lost. Could feel the power slipping around him, guiding him… it had been what had led him to the vengeance gig in the first place… a chance to spread some wishes. But still he had to wait, was virtually powerless against those that would seek to stop him.
He wanted Willow. To get Willow he wanted Tara. And to get Tara he wanted at least one of the slayers dead. Possibly everyone. Tonight was supposed to have been the start of that. The start of his plan.
He turned back to Halfrek, regarded her with cold eyes. “What’s the upshot of the wish? What’s going to happen?”
“Not very much. No one can leave the house. Ever.”
“No one? Ever?”
“No.”
He started to pace again, let the feelings flow through him, the possibilities laying themselves before his mind as he wandered back and forth. “What about in..? Can we get something in?”
“That’s not a problem… but nothing goes out again unless the wish is broken.”
He called Johnathan to him, ordered that he get his charms and candles ready. There was a spell that he wanted performed, a beast he wanted conjured… something he could see through, that he could control from here. He would still have his chance to kill the slayer, maybe to get his hands upon the lesser of the witches as well.
He waited impatiently as Johnathan bumbled around setting up the things. Soon he wouldn’t need anyone else, until then he had to bite his tongue, had to stop his foot from crashing down upon the annoying bug of a boy before him. “Are we ready yet?”
“Nearly uh Wa… uh… master?”
“Master? I like that, good one Johnathan!” His attention once again went to Halfrek. Sneering at the defiance that still dared to sit upon her face. “Thank you for your services demon… perhaps when the time comes I might let you live.”
“I’m going to just love wreaking vengeance on you…” But her words were halted by the face of malevolence she was being shown. Warren bearing down on her, his eyes pouring with the blackness that only the truest evil can produce. Yes it terrified her. Made her try and sink back into the shadows. Her posture finding the form of subservience, her voice dying in her throat.
If this happened, if this boy succeeded in all that he wished for..? There would be no hope. No hope for anyone.
POV Tara.
What a mess. Really. I’d secretly hoped that tonight would go well, that Buffy’s birthday wouldn’t live up to the billing and we would just have a regular little get together of friends, a fun time. An easy time.
It started so well, on the surface everybody laughing and smiling, even Buffy herself managing to join in with everyone. But then it changed. Just after the gifts. We all got up to dance, to loosen tired limbs to the rhythm of music, all of us except Buffy. I watched her watching us, held my breath as I silently prayed that she would raise and join us… followed her with my eyes as she climbed the stairs to her room. I wondered at going after her, at trying again to reach her with words of comfort, offers of everything being okay. But I didn’t… instead I watched Faith as she also realised that Buffy was missing, saw her search the rooms, saw her stand at the bottom of the stairs as if she barely dared to climb them. In my mind I urged her on, I still believe that she has the ability to reach her… to make her want to feel something more than the hurt. More than the pain.
My hope raised with each tread on the stairs, every minute she was up there, every second that she didn’t come back down. I told myself she had reached her… was up there now holding her close as she finally let those walls of despair come tumbling down. But I was wrong.
I knew that as soon as Faith came back. Her face a picture of anger, her eyes shining confusion. I wanted to ask… to know what had happened, but I didn’t get to ask. I stood back as she took hold of Cordy, bade farewell. Approached the door. Tried to leave. And that’s when it all went crazy. Sunnydale style crazy.
I mean really..? Trapped in a house with no apparent way out? It’s not normal… I’m pretty sure it’s a long way from normal.
On top of that, Faith is now hiding in the closet.
And I don’t think that’s very normal either.
It makes me wonder if Buffy told her… about Spike. If that’s what caused her face of thunder and quick retreat. Feeling how she feels about Buffy, and knowing about Spike..? That would surely be enough to send her a little bit crazy. Even I know that. And I don’t know her all that well.
I pondered it as I waited for Willow to come back down from Buffy’s room. Everybody sat in some kind of silent shell shock trying to figure out what the heck was happening and why.
I was thinking magic. A spell would definitely have the power to keep us all locked up here, to keep the slayers locked up. Maybe that’s what this is? Evil’s attempt to clear the path for badness. To keep us out of the way? Anya thinks so too. She knows the power of magic. Understands the things that can be done.
When Willow returned she brought a tired looking Buffy with her. Eyes obviously red from crying, shoulders obviously sagging with burden. I almost forget how she used to look, the sound of her happiness, the easiness of her smile.
I patted the seat next to mine, offered her a place to rest.
“More birthday fun and frolics then guys.” Her voice didn’t hold humour. “I’m thinking the whole resurrection thing is looking a worse deal by the minute… anybody else think they were better off before hand?”
The silence wasn’t affirming, it was just uncomfortable. It wasn’t better before, without her… it hasn’t been better since she went. I was going to break the discomfort, say something to distract everyone from where their thoughts were wandering… but I didn’t have to. Our newest guest was raising her hand and accepting Buffy’s comments.
“I think maybe you’re right Buffy, the stint in heaven hasn’t helped with the self pitying… perhaps everyone was better off?”
“Cordy…”
“No Xander…” She held up her hand to stop him. “…I was gonna try and be nice, all accepting of the same old crap… but really, where does that get me? I can’t believe you all still pander to her like this…”
“Hey! We don’t pander!”
Willow spoke up, but a little of me did agree. If we didn’t all keep bending over backwards to let her be so morose, maybe she would snap out of it? Nothing else was working. Anya was the next to offer opinion.
“You do so all pander, I agree with her.”
“An honey? We don’t pander… Buffy’s our friend, remember how we talked about friends? About helping them out?”
I just sat back and watched it unravel. Kept my eye on Dawn, on the closet.
“Don’t go sanctimonious on me Xander Harris! I know what friends are. I have friends… but this…” She vaguely waved her hand in Buffy’s direction. “…this is just ridiculous. If she were a dog we’d put her out of her misery!”
“Nice to know you care Anya, really. Are you this nice to all your friends?”
“I’m doing you a service! You want to be dead… I’m agreeing you should have the option… isn’t that democratic? The American way?”
Willow spoke up again, obvious what side she was on. “God, don’t you ever just shut up?” She turned to Xander. “Can’t you make her shut up?”
“Why should she? She makes sense.” Cordy was leaning forwards now, losing herself to the argument.
“Do you think we could stop discussing my life for a minute? Get back to the problem at hand?”
“Technically? We were discussing your death, seems to me that IS the problem at hand…”
“Cordy!”
“No Willow… I understand ok, yes it’s hard, boo hoo Buffy… but this isn’t just about Buffy, and maybe it’s time SHE got that.” She turned her eyes then and faced down the slayer, looked every bit as strong as her, every bit as willing to fight her corner. “I think this is all pathetic, this deep depression at being alive… this dragging down every other sucker that dares to want to help you!”
“You don’t know anything!”
“I know you’re not worth the effort, I know this self pitying crap that you churn out at every opportunity is so passed it’s sell by date I can’t believe you still do it…”
Buffy rose then, stalked straight up to Cordelia, fists clenching at her sides. It made the others raise, made Xander step to her side, Willow in front of her.
“Oh look, the whole gang…”
“Cordy stop.”
“No, I won’t. All of you know it’s true…”
It brought more of the silence. Buffy standing there fuming, her friends just standing there confused. It’s hard for them. So much they want to protect her, to make it better. But maybe shielding her all the time isn’t making her better, is making her worse.
This time I did break the awkwardness of silence. Tried to apply some soothing balm to the harsh words. “Why doesn’t everyone calm down… I’ll put the kettle on, we’ll have some tea and then we’ll get to researching the little prisoner problem…”
“What about Faith?”
“I can take her tea too…”
Cordy’s eyes were still working hard at boring into Buffy. “Why should you? Maybe if Buffy got off of her high horse and apologised for whatever she did to drive her in there in the first place, then she could take tea like the rest of us…”
“You expect ME to apologise to HER?” Yes. A great way to get Buffy’s attention. Maybe not the best choice of phrase from Cordy. “I have nothing to apologise for…”
“Just start with the fact that you’re a bitch, after that you can improvise…”
“Stop it! Both of you!” Dawn’s voice was louder than all of ours. “Why can’t it ever just be nice? Why do you always have to fight?” She cast her gaze over everyone. “Haven’t we had enough fighting… enough bad stuff? Can’t we just stop?”
Buffy’s shoulders lost the defiance of a second earlier and slumped back into position. She went to her sister, was the one to find her first with her arms. Her lips resting softly against her forehead. “I’m sorry Dawnie… I mean it. We’re just a little stressed. I’m sorry.”
“Uh… us too Dawn, we didn’t mean to get with the loud voices and hysterical screaming… it’s the house thing, we’re just stressing, ok?”
“And me, I shouldn’t have said anything… I’m only just here, what do I know?”
They all offered words of apology, Dawn just looked and nodded. Maybe a little happy to be the one to stop the madness. I did get up to make tea, trusted that a minute away from them would be okay, no more ructions would start.
When I returned it was sombrely silent. All the energy drained from the room. I placed down the tray, offered around refreshments. Shouted at the door of the closet, didn’t get an answer.
We all sat and talked, tried hard to work out what was happening, sporadically tried to prise open a door that none of us could get near. We couldn’t try magic of our own, no supplies for spell making… no magic elements left in the house to tempt Willow with. We were stuck. Totally. Utterly. Stuck.
The hours ticked by, sometimes fast, sometimes slow. Eyes starting to get heavy, limbs getting numb from the continual sitting. It was Buffy that eventually called time. Perhaps Dawn’s drooling on her shoulder letting her know it was past the hour for sleeping. Not all of us have that slayer stamina after all.
It was strange heading up the stairs with Willow again, heading to our bedroom again. Also strange that Xander and Anya were following us. It wasn’t a situation I’d ever dreamt about happening.
Cordy was going to stay in with Dawn, and Buffy would stay in her room. Faith I guessed would be staying in the closet. I had attempted to draw her out again but she just wouldn’t answer and the door wouldn’t budge. Maybe she needed the space. Maybe Buffy really did tell her about the Spike thing.
I stayed awake until the others were sleeping, my mind tripping over everything that was happening, all the bad stuff, and all the good stuff. The fact that Willow was sleeping just centimetres away from me… her lips curling into a smile even while she was resting. I kissed her softly on those lips. I’ve missed being able to kiss her when even she doesn’t know I do it. The kisses that are just for me. Just because I need them.
I crept up softly from the bed, managed not to tread on Xander, slipped softly from the room. I peeped in on Dawn, saw her with Cordy’s arms protectively around her. Both of them sleeping. I peeped in on Buffy’s room… saw the emptiness. The lack of body in bed, of sheets being twisted. I guessed she couldn’t sleep either. Went to find her.
I should’ve known where she would be, what would be keeping her from taking any rest. She was just stood against the wall staring at the door to the closet. Not too close, not far away. Just there. And staring. “Buffy..?” I whispered my greeting, it felt right to whisper. “You okay?”
“Huh? What… oh yeah. I’m good…” She took her eyes away from the door and placed them on me. They didn’t look so red anymore, so puffed out with tears, but they did still look so tired. Worn out. “…I couldn’t sleep, been down here trying to figure a way out.”
Of the closet?
She walked her way to the kitchen, poured some water into a glass. “What do you think it is Tara? What’s come to piss on my parade this year?”
“I’m sure it’s not you… it’s probably a spell of some sort… something gone wrong. Maybe it’s the pranksters again?”
“Could be. Remind me when we get out… IF we get out, I need to find these guys with the pranks… it’s getting a bit much now. It was cute at first, now it’s just annoying.”
I nodded as she drained her glass. She had a valid point. Someone was going to get hurt if we didn’t get a hold on whatever was performing the pranks. It was obvious that they knew some basics of magic… but other than that we didn’t have much to go on. Not a clue.
“Do you think Faith will ever come out?” I had to ask. She kept throwing her gaze that way, it was obvious where her focus was.
“Come out?”
“Of the closet?”
She looked to be considering, her head leaning to the side. “You think that’s a good idea? Cos I’ve been thinking about it… and really, maybe we can keep her in there?”
“Buffy…”
“No Tara, think about it… if she stays there, no more arguing… no more fighting, no more screaming…”
“No more feeling?”
Her eyes flew to mine. Confusion. Maybe a slight flash of anger. “What? Feeling..? Has she said something to you… about me?”
As if she ever needed to. It’s there for everyone to see. Anyone who cared to look. “No Buffy, well… not really. It’s just… I see, with you two…”
“See what with us two? There isn’t an ‘us two’… there’s never been an ‘us two’…”
I tried to calm her, her voice was starting to raise a little, starting to make her point with some volume. “I know that, I meant… I meant the…” I tried to think of the right word. Charge didn’t cover it. Tension didn’t come close. It was just a thing. An indescribable thing. I knew that she knew what I meant. I had seen it. “…the connection! Between the two of you, it’s so strong, so intense… you can’t tell me you don’t feel it, even now, you have to feel it.” She looked up, met my eyes again. “Even ‘I’ feel it Buffy.”
She stifled a harsh laugh. “Everyone wants to know if I feel it right? Like that makes a difference..?”
“So you do feel it?”
She sighed and rolled her eyes. Threw her hands up in the air. “Ok, I feel it! Should I prepare myself for the kissing?”
Kissing? Why would I with the kissing?
I looked at her again, her eyes drawn back to the door to the closet. Thought back on the night, Faith upstairs. Faith storming down. Put the two and two together, guessed at making four.
“Did you kiss her?”
I waited for the shout of denial, for proof that my math was never that good. It didn’t come. All that came was a bigger sigh. A slump into a chair. Arms again finding a place to hide her head. “I might have kissed her a little.., really though?” Her eyes peeped out from her arms, and I swear I saw a grin. She may have been hiding it well… but there was something there that made her smile. “SHE kissed me… I just took a second to stop her.”
Yeah. Right. “How many seconds?”
“Wasn’t counting.”
I went and sat next to her at the table. Wondered at the right thing to say. Anyone else and I’d be congratulating them on scoring Faith, but Buffy? Nothing’s ever that easy. “So… uh… did you…enjoy it?”
“No comment.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
She laughed a little underneath those arms of hers. Slowly lifted her head. “Until the world came crashing back..? Up till then I enjoyed it…” She lost her smile again as if she was remembering. “…that’s the thing though isn’t it Tara? The world always comes crashing back.”
I couldn’t disagree. I knew how much life could get in the way. That had happened to me and Willow, the fact that our love was already established being the only thing that helped us through. If we didn’t already have the love… would we have made it?
“What happened? When it all came crashing back?”
“She shouted, I shouted, she left.”
Normal service resumed then. I sighed a little, I still didn’t know what to say. “Did you tell her?”
Her brows knitted in confusion, “Tell her?”
“About Spike..?”
“No!… God no.” I could see all the same disgust she was aiming back at herself, her head shaking as if she could deny to herself the truth of what had been going on. “I can’t… she wouldn’t…”
“You don’t know that Buffy, maybe she would…”
“No. I can’t tell her… she doesn’t need to know…”
It was my turn to shake my head now, that was wrong. “If you’re gonna be kissing her I think she needs to know… or you need to stop…”
“I’m not kissing her again… it was a moment… a mistake.”
“Are you sure about that Buffy, even with the feelings..?” I couldn’t believe that she meant it, that she couldn’t accept it.
“I’m not sure about anything, but I do know that this is still Faith…” She stifled another laugh lacking in gaiety. “…the only feelings we ever did well with were hate, a whole lot of anger… and a pretty firm overdose of pain. I can’t go there Tara, I just can’t.”
“And Spike?”
“I know… I can’t go there either.” She looked disgusted again and I believed that she wanted to stop. “I’m trying to stay away… it’s hard. I feel so sick being with him, letting him touch me… but it’s something. It isn’t nothing.”
“Feeling Faith isn’t nothing.”
Her eyes flicked back towards the closet again. Her expression hard to read. “It isn’t nothing, I get that Tara… but maybe it’s too much. Too much all at once…”
“Would it hurt to try? To consider it, give it a chance?”
“Maybe… I think it probably would…”
Her gaze went far away, possibly to memories, times I couldn’t share. I remembered back to the Bronze, about her worries of Faith hurting someone. It made more sense now. All along she had been worried that Faith would get too close to HER. I think it terrifies her. And perhaps she’s been worried even as long as Faith has been wanting. Since the beginning. It was herself that she thought Faith could hurt the most. No one else.
It makes me think of words like love. It can be a terrifying word.
It isn’t hate. That’s the most obvious thing about the whole situation. They may have buried the truth for years under the guise of hate… but you only have to see them together to know it’s not all. It’s not anything.
I didn’t think I could offer her anymore with words. All I wanted to say was dust Spike and love Faith. I wasn’t sure she was in the right place to hear those words though. I understood the tiredness in her eyes now, her head must be such a messed up place, a jumble of everything. No sense.
I brought my hand up to her head and tried to soothe some away. She laughed a little and raised her eyebrows. “How come you’re always the one picking up my pieces lately?”
“Everyone needs someone there Buffy, maybe this time I’m just that someone?”
“Well thank you… I know I’m not doing a great job at the moment…” I smiled my sweetest. “…okay, I’m doing a really crappy job. But I’m getting there I think… maybe just a little, a really tiny little… and you’ve helped. A lot.”
I knew she didn’t show this side often. This soft side. No hard edges. Just Buffy. It was a shame… it was a pretty special side to her. “Don’t even mention it, it’s what friends are for.”
I thought about all the times she had saved me. Physically. If I could repay her in this way then it felt good. I tried to cover the little yawn that fought to escape my lips. It had her laughing again. “Why don’t you go get some sleep? I can hold the fort down here… there’s no point in all of us not sleeping.”
It was a tempting offer to go back to bed. Back to Willow. Back to those smiling lips. “Are you sure it’s ok? I don’t mind sitting with you, if you wanted to talk more?”
“Nope, all talked out. You get back to bed, I don’t want Wills beating on me for keeping her girl up all night.”
She wiggled those cute little eyebrows and I felt assured that she was okay to leave. It did feel like she was getting a bit better. A bit more positive, and if it was only a really tiny little bit? Well that was okay too. Small steps. Better than no steps.
I rose from the table and remembered the closet. “What about Faith? She’s gonna be pretty cranky if she sleeps in there all night… do you even know the stuff we store in there?”
“Skis, uh… old stuff. Couple of weapons..?”
“Why don’t you knock? Ask her to come out.”
“Why don’t you?”
I tried already. A few times. I can imagine it’s a closet full of confusion for her, kissing Buffy will have her all shell shocked, wondering what happens next…
“I tried already Buffy, and you know, maybe it is you that should be knocking… maybe you need to sort some things out with her?”
“Lots of reasons for not knocking!”
I didn’t laugh. I wasn’t joking. I remembered the harsh words exchanged earlier. Talk of pandering to Buffy. We had been a little and it was time it stopped. She was big enough to start taking more responsibility for her own actions. The problems that she had caused.
“Just think about it Buffy. You may not want to feel, but Faith can’t help but feel. Don’t leave her sitting in the closet all night… please?”
I watched as her head shot up suddenly, her eyes widened, senses alert. I heard the crash moments later, felt the glass as it flew from the windows striking my face. I think I screamed, I heard a scream. Whatever it was, it was huge. It’s skin the colour of molten lava, it’s mouth nothing but teeth, it eyes looking like the pits of hell. It bore straight down on us, crashing things out of the way to get to what it wanted.
Buffy stood firm in front of me, her own face scratched by the glass, but nothing enough to stop her from facing this beast. The threat. She ushered me behind her… grabbed a kitchen knife from the side.
“Hey! This is my party, and I don’t think you were invited.” Her smirk sat on her face and sounded in her words. This was her arena, her battle to win. “Now are you gonna leave quietly or do I have to slice and dice you?”
It didn’t even hesitate. It swatted her aside as if she was nothing. As if she wasn’t a slayer. She flew threw the air coming to rest in the hall, I noticed just before it got to me. Just before I felt its fist of concrete smashing into the side of my skull.
I remember the darkness coming. Could feel the fear.
The last thing I remember though, the thing before it all went away… that was Buffy. Knocking on the door to the closet. Calling out Faith.
It gave me hope.
POV Faith.
One minute I was contorted in the strangest position, finding sleep amongst the junk, the next it sounded like all hell had just broken loose. I thought I was dreaming… my dreams often come with the nasty stuff, this wouldn’t be any different. But then the banging on the door brought me round.
I was alert in seconds. I was a slayer.
I could hear B calling me, a call I would always answer. It pulled me from the closet, had me pulling myself to standing, looking to see what the excitement was. And I kinda wish I hadn’t bothered. It was a big fucker. All snarling and growling, flexing its arms out as if it had only just gotten them. Its head twisting from side to side.
It had me feeling fear, not much could do that. Not often. I looked at Buffy, back at the closet. “B… you wanna go get snuggly? There’s room in the closet for two…”
Well there wasn’t really room for one, but damn, that thing was big. Hiding could work.
“Appealing Faith, but no…” I saw her raise her hand, point back across the room. Saw the body laying there. “…we’ve gotta get Tara.”
My stomach dropped. I felt sick. Not Tara. I showed the fucking beast thing a growl of my own, let my primal instincts come to the fore. This creature had dared to hurt my friend? It was gonna know pain.
I launched myself at it whilst it was still doing its messed up stretching, figured on catching it unawares, a surprise attack. My leg connected and it felt like it broke in a thousand fucking places. Pure pain was flying through me, I was rolling back across the floor. I could see B approaching it, more warily than me… sizing it up, trying to get a sight of an opening.
I pulled myself to my knees, tested my weight on my leg as I tried to stand. Felt it buckle, tried harder. It was like knives digging in all the way up, my knee screaming at me to sit back down. To stand aside. I breathed deep, clenched down my teeth and sought to bear it. To stand at Buffy’s side.
Without direction we fell into step. Her to its right side, me edging towards its left. “Tell me something B?”
“Not a clue, just appeared… through the window.” We were circling it slowly, sick thing was the fucker looked like he was smiling. Some kind of skin, not really lips, curving upwards around all those teeth. “It went straight for Tara…”
I looked again at her laying there. Behind the beast. It felt like miles away. “You wanna distract it? I’ll get Tara?”
“How about you distract it?”
I guessed it wouldn’t make a difference. We were both in for some hurting. I spied the knife in B’s hand. It looked useful. “B? Toss me the knife?”
She armed me without thinking, the blade slicing through the air and coming to rest in my palm. I dropped down, cringed as my knee bent, tried to swing my leg around to drop the bad thing to the floor. Didn’t work.
It just kicked its own leg back, landed one right between my ribs, slap bang to the heart. I felt the air rush from my lungs, the tightness across my chest. I rolled onto my stomach, thought again about rising.
Buffy was trying to go round it. I knew I had to distract it some more. Buy her some time. “Hey you ugly fucker, that the best ya got?”
Don’t ya just know that it wasn’t? It crashed towards me, its fist closing around my arm, dragging me up, making me scream. I felt the shoulder pop, let my weight go dead. Aimed my good leg straight at the demon’s crown jewels. It was instinct. It worked.
He dropped me down, howled some pain of his own. “Hey B… we got ourselves a boy beasty…soft in all the right places.” But she wasn’t smiling. She was sliding her arm under Tara’s head, trying to prise her up. Softly speaking words I couldn’t hear. She wasn’t looking for an attack, had lost herself in the moment. I saw it coming, saw as the thing turned from me towards them, straightened itself back out, howled something other than pain. I shouted her. A second too late.
It backhanded her across the face, sent her flying across the room.
It was just it and Tara now. It’s head to the side considering her. I wanted up again. Didn’t know if I could again. The commotion behind me stopped my thoughts, gave me new thoughts.
It was the gang… all of them. Armed and ready to go. Where they always were. I watched as they took in the scene, knew that they couldn’t be here. I couldn’t protect them.
Willow’s scream as she noticed Tara laying at the feet of the beast ripped right through me. It hurt so bad. So fucking raw. I saw her start to move. MADE myself get up.
“Back off Red, it’s too strong…”
“No!”
Her voice froze everything. The room chilling. It made me step back, made me let her pass. There was power there. I could taste it. I guess the beast could too cos it turned straight for her. Started making a real fucked up noise, like purring or something. Its face twisting again into that grimacing smile.
I could see Willow’s eyes darkening, like a film of evil had slipped over them. “Get out! Now!”
I wanted out. I was fucking scared. Not ashamed to say it. I never would of guessed… not Red. She was raising her hand towards the demon, energy crackling at the ends of her fingers… but it wasn’t backing down. It looked as if it was savouring the moment. Soaking up whatever Willow was giving off. Feeding on it.
Dawn was behind me, knelt besides Buffy. I could hear her starting to sob, her words as they slipped past her lips. “No Willow… no…”
She was right. I had to do something. Anything. This was bad, I just knew it. In my head I was already saying sorry, apologising for the pain. It had to be done though. I hoped she’d understand.
I drew back my good arm, tightened the muscles, closed my fist. Silently prayed that she wouldn’t see it coming. I didn’t fancy my chances if she did. I connected hard. Knocked her out before she had a chance to gasp the surprise that sat on her face.
The beast’s smile had dropped. It was growling again, closing in on me. I felt someone at my side, knew without needing to look that Buffy had pulled herself back to her feet. “You ready for this B?”
“I want the closet.”
It made me laugh. Now she tells me! “I’ll make you a deal, we finish this fucker off and you can have all the closet space you want?”
“I finish this… ‘fucker’ off Faith and I want a whole lot more than closet space…”
I didn’t have time to think on it. To banter the possibilities with her. The thing was stomping still closer, both of us in its sights. “Your turn to distract it B… I’M gonna finish it off.”
Wishful thinking maybe, but I had to go with something. She shouted for attention, drew its eyes to her. Smashed her fist hard across its face, followed up fast with another. It had to hurt. Didn’t stop her. Again she hit it, cursing it all the time, bemoaning another birthday ruined. I took my chance. Slid in under it, took a split second to put every single ounce of power I’d ever owned into the force of my kick. Slammed my foot back into its groin, felt the squish, my knee buckling. I don’t know who screamed loudest. I KNOW I screamed the longest.
It fell to its knees, its clawed hands going to the area I’d so hopefully damaged. I even think the thing had tears in its glazed black eyes. Perfect.
I watched it gingerly get to its knees. Knew I wouldn’t be able to do the same. He slid his arms under Tara, lifted her up, across his shoulder. Buffy went for him. A last attempt. A pointless one. He swatted her back like a fly. Less than a fly. Turned to the door.
If it didn’t hurt so much I’d have laughed my fucking head off. The dumb fucker was trapped. Same as all of us.
Realization brought with it more howling, growling. Telegraphing more pain. It didn’t come for us though… it threw its head back. Let out a sound almost human. Summoning someone. Something.
And she appeared straight before us. Just like that. Kinda freaky. Her eyes fixed on the thing… awaiting direction. “Out!”
That definitely sounded human! It roared it, like it was ordering it. Made me figure that we knew the reason for being here. The chick. Maybe she was a witch. Maybe she could get us all out of here.
Whatever she was, she shrank back from the demon, her voice coming shaky. “I can’t let you take her…”
He screeched his disapproval. She shrank back further. I so wanted a piece of the action. The knife was sitting next to me on the floor. Where I dropped it before. I slid my fingers around it, prayed my aim was still good. I let the instinct flow through me, let my eyes lock on, my grasp release. It hit straight and true, score one for the slayer!
It pierced its chest, where I guessed a heart should be. I waited for it to fall. To die. Gasped my shock as it vanished before us. Made me wonder what it was with me and vanishing monsters? Maybe a new superpower. That would be cool.
Tara thumping to the floor wasn’t so cool.
The gang were there in seconds. Cordy tending to her, talking words to bring her round. Dawn had gone again to B. Xander and Anya fussing at Willow. It gave me a moment alone. A second to regroup. My eyes were resting on the woman. Hers on me.
I went to speak. To ask a question. Anya beat me to it. “Hallie? Is that you? What the..?”
“Anyanka? Great to see you!”
The cheerfulness was all wrong. It didn’t belong here. I heard Dawn speaking up, bemusement obvious in her voice. “My counsellor? Counsellors are evil now..? I guessed teachers but…”
“Everyone‘s evil dear, that‘s the beauty of humanity.” She smiled a little as she spoke. “And I’m not really a counsellor.”
Well that was the obvious. I finally found my voice. It sounded rough. Croaky. “What are you? Who are you?”
Anya answered for her. “An old friend of mine… from the demon days.” She cast a wary gaze at her. “But I don’t know why she’s here.” She spread her arms out in question. “Hallie? What’s going on… where’s D’hoffryn?”
“Gone Anyanka… everything’s changing. Something is coming.”
“What something?” That was Buffy. Her voice firm. Commanding.
“I can’t say…”
“Hal?” I watched the demon’s eyes go back to Anya, her head shaking.
“You know I can’t… demon code of honour…”
“Oh screw that! Demons have no honour… we both know that!” The force of her words pushed the Hal thing back, made the truth shine in her eyes. Made Anya soften her tone. “You’re scared… aren’t you? Whatever it is… you’re scared?”
“And so should you be.”
The weight of them words sounded so heavy. Silence following them. I could feel it in the room. All around me again. The darkness. The evil.
“Not just evil.”
Huh? The demon thing had turned and was talking straight at me. Like she could read my thoughts. Feel my thoughts. She walked towards me, eyes set on me. “There’s not just evil, there’s pain. So much pain… all of you.”
She sounded almost sympathetic, but her face was smiling. It was odd. Weird.
I turned my head to Buffy. I don’t know what for, what I expected from her, I was just drawn there. Maybe it was the thought of so much pain.
The demons touch shocked me back. Lifting my head. My position on the floor meaning I had to strain my neck to meet her eyes. She started speaking again. Words at me again. “I feel ‘your’ pain… I hear your silent wishes…”
Silent wishes? She had me stumped. I wished for lots of things. Don’t think I ever got any. She carried on speaking. Voice sure and steady. “…you won’t need me to grant your wish, you will know… soon enough. You’ll know all of them.”
All of what? I turned my head from her, broke her gaze. It was freaking me out. Like I could feel her crawling around inside of me. Scratching at my secrets. All of them.
And then I remembered. My almost wish. My silent wish.
‘I just wish that I knew her secrets… all of them.’
I remembered the way that it felt like something in the room had been calling at me to speak. To put voice to it. At least now I knew what. Who. Not so sure on the why. Not so sure that the twisted smile that’s resting on her lips bodes well for the secrets that it seems I’m gonna end up knowing.
She stepped back from me. Turned to Anya. “I have to go… troubles brewing. But it has been good to see you Anyanka. Vengeance isn’t the same without you…”
She looked straight at Dawn. Uttered some words about undoing wishes. Clicked her fingers, struck a pose, and vanished. Gone the same way she came.
No one spoke for a minute. Shock I guess. I looked around, took in everyone’s appearance. “One hell of a party, huh B?”
“Best ever.”
I tried to get up. My good arm pushing against the floor, my good leg trying to hop. Didn’t work so well. I had to wait for Dawn to come help me. Lift me up a little.
They put the witches on the couches. Willow coming round first, blood flowing from her nose as soon as she sat up. Tara was slower, but then I know the force that she got hit with. It hurts. At least everyone was ok. For that moment it was all that mattered.
I found a space to let myself rest, sinking back into the sofa as if the softness could ease some of the pain. It couldn’t. Parts of my body felt like they were on fire, not the nice kind of fire. I let Cordy come fuss on me, let her hands work their magic on my cuts, the witches soothing balm helping as soon as she rubbed it to my skin. When we lifted my pant leg to get a look at my knee I wanted to cry. At least the pain made sense. It was twice the size, purple and nasty, definitely gonna be sore for a couple of days.
She finished me up and I let her move on. Tending Willow. The blackness gone from her eyes now, but resting instead on her cheek. I’d caught her good. Bruised her up. I let my voice work, offered an apology. “Red, I’m sorry bout the punch…”
Her eyes stopped me. She looked ashamed, hurt, a whole lot of things I couldn’t put my finger on. “It’s ok Faith, I…” Her gaze flicked from me across to Tara. “…I needed it.”
I saw the look that they shared. Willow’s begging to apologise herself, Tara’s just begging to understand. I understood. That thing was after Tara… whatever it was it had come for her. Wanted her. Red saw that too, understood that. Instinct took over, she was just doing what she could. And yeah I get that. I’d do the same.
I took my look from them and offered them some privacy. Searched out the others instead. Xander was already clearing up debris, salvaging the fixable, like he’s been here a thousand times already. Probably has. Dawn’s doing her best to clean up the cuts on Buffy’s face, making a hash of it. She looks shaken up, scared. I wonder what she fears the most. The beast, or the look we saw in Willow’s eyes. It’s a close call.
I gingerly pulled myself up, went to shuffle across the room to the sisters. Holding my face tense to hide the soreness I was feeling. I didn’t think I’d ever be doing another Buffy birthday bash, it was all too fucked up. All sorts of painful.
I slid down next to them, stilled Dawn’s shaking hands with my own and took the cloth from her. “Hey kiddo, you sit this one out, I’ll patch up B ok?”
“I can do it, I’ve done it before.” Said so simply. As if the most normal thing in the world is patching up your battered sister. For her I guess it is.
“I know you can do it, I’m just telling you I’ll do it this time. Now scoot.” She picked herself up and made way for me. I turned my eyes to B, smiled a little. I wanted to drag her into the closet. To crush my lips to hers with the passion I’d held back earlier, let the lust which swirled through my body, swirl over hers. I didn’t though. I dipped the fingers on the arm which wasn’t busted into the balm of the witches. Brought them softly up to her face. “This might hurt a little B.”
Her eyes locked into mine. Looked into me. “I know. It’s ok.”
I touched her gently, not wanting to hurt her more than I had to. Sliding the tips of my fingers against all of her grazes. Up to her forehead. Down to her chin. I could see where her top was ripped at the shoulder, motioned at her to move it. Show me the damage.
I hissed for her when she moved it aside, the material no longer hiding the gash which sliced across her skin. I wiped the rest of the balm on my pants, picked up the cloth instead. So slowly I dabbed at her, wiping away blood, following the line of the cut across the arch of her shoulder. I worked in silence. Not focusing on feelings. Just the practical. The bits I could deal with.
I collected more of the cream onto my hand, brought it up to her shoulder, froze as I heard her intake of breath, before I touched her, in anticipation of my touching her. Her gaze grabbed mine again, a contradiction to all of her words. It looked like she wanted me in, like she could do this.
If my other arm hadn’t sat frozen at my side, awaiting attention, then I would’ve slid it behind her head, brought her face back to mine. Pressed my biggest wish to her lips in the shape of a kiss. But it was frozen. And my other hand was covered in balm. So I didn’t offer her wishes, I carried on with my touch. Fingers fizzing as they traced this new piece of skin. Slow gentle circles. The base of her neck.
I let them rest there a minute. Job done but just a second for me. A second’s extra touch. I heard her exhale as I finally moved and it sounded like a sigh.
“All done B. Good as new.” I lightened my tone, smiled something other than want. Watched her smile back. Listened to her voice.
“What about you? Are you ok?”
Not really. A long way off. “Not bad, shoulders aching like a bitch… I need to pop it back…”
“You want me to help?” Of course I did. I couldn’t take it though. Couldn’t keep touching her right now.
“It’s ok, I got it… Cordy’s the expert these days.”
I looked across at her, still busy with the witches. Hushed voice talking to Tara, working slowly at the cuts across her face. I could wait. It was cool.
“Let me do it Faith, let me help you?” Oh that was a classic. The girl who refused my help on a near daily basis? I pushed myself up from the sofa, as quick as my knee would allow, rushed from the tone of her voice which would only make me marshmallow soft again.
“I said it’s ok. I got it.” Yeah. She wasn’t the only one who had walls.
I stumbled and tripped my way to the kitchen. Turned on the tap and blessed my skin with cool water. I ran my good arm through my hair. Wondered if it was ok to be the first one to leave. Technically I’d been the first one to want to leave earlier… it seemed right I’d be there again. Running away. On a busted knee.
I laughed a little out loud. Sounding sorry for myself.
“You ok?”
I turned to Xander. Saw his eyes taking in my busted form. “A little shitty, hurt in all the wrong places.”
“You did good… with Willow, and the thing… you did really good.”
I don’t know what it was. It was everything. But I could feel the tears wanting to come. My eyes as they starting blinking fast to hold it all back. My throat constricting, tasting the pain. “Thanks Xander, that means a lot.”
And they did come. Just little ones. Quiet ones. Again it was the good arm’s job to take care of me. Wiping at the things I didn’t want him to see.
He didn’t look uncomfortable. He looked comforting. He stepped towards me, pointed out my bad arm. “Your shoulder gone?”
“Don’t ya know it.”
He stepped closer still, lifted my arm and let me use him as a brace. Held me steady as I sought to collapse from the hurting, as I popped back into place. I grunted my displeasure, said fuck a couple of times. Flicked my eyes to him in a minute of déjà vu.
A cheap and dirty motel room. A cheap and dirty whore. I felt it again. Watched me use him again. The fun I’d gotten from popping his cork. I saw him remember too. His face colouring a little, scared like he wanted to run. I wanted to run too. Away from the truth of all the bad shit I’d done.
Instead I tried harder. Spoke louder. “I’m sorry… you do know that yeah? I’m so sorry.”
He put those big man sized arms around me in a hug. Made me flinch a little in the sore shoulder. “It’s ok Faith, it’s past.” I rested there for just a second. Eased myself back. Used both hands to hide the evidence of the leaky eyes. I saw him smile at me. The same boyish smile. “Just say you got dust in your eyes… it’s what I do.”
It made me laugh. I could imagine that happening. “Thanks man. I owe you one.”
“No worries… can’t have the gang knowing you’re not just a bad ass can we?”
I watched him go to the fridge and snag a couple of soda’s. Caught the one he tossed to me. “Come on, we’re gonna sit and cram… Buffy mentioned the word research, I know you don’t wanna miss the fun…”
Me at a Scooby meet? That’s something I didn’t figure on happening again. “Right, uh… count me in?”
“We already did.”
I followed him back. Wiggled my eyebrows at Anya’s inquisitive gaze. I bet she was fucking scary as a wreaker of vengeance. Looking for scorn in all the wrong places. I slid back down on the sofa, awaited direction.
Everyone had theories, no one had an answer. Not a clue.
Dawn was recriminated for making wishes to strangers. I wanted to comfort her, tell her it was ok. I nearly made a wish too. I knew how easy it was to want something that bad. Her words of explanation made it easier. She didn’t want people to keep leaving her. No one could scold her for something so innocent.
I’d watched Buffy take her in arms filled with love. Letting it show. “I won’t leave you again Dawn, I promise.” Saw the kid smile at the words, a real smile. Found one of my own. It was a moment she had been waiting on. We’d all been waiting on.
It softened a little of the fear in the room. Perhaps gave us all a little hope.
Anya spoke about the demon Halfrek. Spoke her confusion at knowing D’hoffryn wasn’t the big man on campus no more. Wish demons had always answered to him. She had never heard of different.
She offered to ask around. Speak to any friends she had managed to salvage from the olden glory days. Someone had to know what we were dealing with. What was coming.
Willow didn’t say much of anything. I kept a little eye on her. Worried about her. She kept dabbing the tissue up to her nose, nothing seeming to stem the small but steady trickle of blood that still crept from there. I wondered at how much the magic took out of her. At the badness of the stuff inside of her.
We were still discussing, talking nonsense when Tara eventually stood. “Guys I’m beat. If it’s okay I’m gonna stay here again tonight?”
“Of course it’s ok, I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Buffy’s voice was protective, she was worried like me. Understood also that whatever had come had come for Tara.
The witch put her hand down to Red. I think everyone held their breath, waiting to see what would happen. If she would punish her for falling back to magic. “Willow? Are you coming?”
Her eyes teared immediately, her voice quiet and unsure. “Are you sure baby?” And it sounded like a plea.
“Of course I’m sure. You need someone to watch over you… to make sure you’re ok.”
She helped her up gently. The walking wounded. I caught her look as she went to leave, offered her a smile. She offered me more. “Thank you Faith, for saving her.”
Crazy right? There was me thinking it was Tara I had saved with my fancy knife throwing… and all anyone was doing was thanking me for punching out Red. I wanted to laugh at that. It wasn’t the time. I wasn’t so used to getting this gratitude. The sentiments. I mumbled out something accepting, put the dam back in place to stop myself becoming the wuss of the century.
They were all looking at me. Centre of attention. And I could feel the cracks. Eyes stinging again. I looked to Xander, caught his smile, his little nod. “Fuck me, it’s dusty as shit in here.” I wiped at my eyes, drew in a deep breath.
“Certainly is slay girl.” He wanted to laugh. Little shit.
I watched him and Anya collecting up their things, setting off for home. To fulfil her part of the research. I hoped they could find something. I was getting a real nasty feeling about all of this. Something in my gut. A churning. An early warning system.
It left just the four of us. Not really sure where to rest our eyes. What to say.
“Buffy?” Cordy’s voice echoed in the silence. Made us all look up. “About earlier… it was harsh, take no notice of me.”
“You mean that? I can ignore you?”
“Call it a birthday present.” It was as close as they were getting to close. That was cool. I couldn’t imagine those two ever feeling the need to braid each others hair. A bit of me couldn’t wait to find out what had been said. I’d caught raised voices from the closet, not words though. Not meaning. If it had come from Cordy it was probably cutting. The girl has a blade for a tongue. Beautiful eyes though. She rested them on me. “I’m gonna take Dawn up to bed. Give me twenty and we’ll make a move yeah?”
“Cool. Take ya time.”
I bade Dawn farewell. Assured her that yes, I’d be back soon. Watched them go up the stairs. It left just the two of us. And you know that I didn’t have the words.
She has beautiful eyes too, and she also sought to rest them on me. “So how does it feel Faith?”
Was that a loaded question or what? I showed her confused. “How does what feel?”
“Being the hero, saving the day.”
Oh. That. “Not so heroic, I clocked Red…”
“You saved her. We all know it.” She shook her head sadly, offered me some background. “It’s why she had to stop, she got a taste for the bad stuff… let it take over…”
“I know how that one goes.” I remembered it real well. She just nodded, accepted the truth.
“If she starts again… if she lets the darkness back in? I don’t know if we’ll be able to save her, to pull her back. It’s scary.”
I didn’t know what to say. If it would be okay. “What about Giles? Shouldn’t he be here?” I had thought he would be by now. Had expected him to rush back at the first sign of trouble. At least when Dawn had done what she had.
“You’d think so right? But no… apparently not.” She slumped her shoulders, winced. Lifted her hand up to the damaged one. “I’ll call him tomorrow. It’s gotta be worth a shot. We don’t have much else to go with.”
We both let the silence come back again. I knew where my thoughts were, I guessed hers were at the same. “Look B? Buffy..?” She looked. “About last night..?”
Her eyes went all panicky. I hated that I scared her. She started to babble, words tripping to fall from her mouth. “Last night? Right… it’s ok, it’s… cool? I’ve forgotten it already… it was a moment, a…”
“A mistake?” I took the words from her mouth. I wanted to be the one to say it. It was MY mistake. I shouldn’t have kissed her.
“Right. It was nothing, it didn’t mean anything.” Her words had lost their speed, their animation. So had I.
I couldn’t lose myself to this feeling right now. I would wait till I had privacy to lose myself. I forced jovial into my tone. “I guess you wanna take a rain check on the closet then huh?” I wiggled my brows at her, made her blush.
“A rain check. Right.”
I raised myself up, looked to get my knee moving a bit. It was sore as hell. I needed a drink. I watched as she got herself up too. Both of us now standing like idiots, nowhere to go. Nothing to say. I prayed for Cordy to hurry, to save me from the awkwardness of this moment. “You think she’s okay up there?” It was something to say.
“I’m sure they’re fine.”
Didn’t kick start conversation. “So… when ya working again?” From bad to worse?
“Huh? Tomorrow. Double shift. I can take the patrol if you want, on the way home? Give you time to rest up the leg?”
“What about the shoulder?”
“Nothing more than a graze, you should know that.” It was a lot more than a graze, but I knew what she meant. We didn’t get the opportunity to hurt. To get better. There was always something else to do. To worry about.
“How about I patrol with you? That way I can use my arms, you can use your legs… we’ll be an almost working model.”
It was nice to catch her smile. Her humour. “Patrolling together? Me and you?”
A wacky plan I know. “Why not B? It’s been a while.”
She looked at me strangely, giving me not a clue as to what she was thinking. “I finish at 11, if you’re there we’ll patrol together.”
I knew I would be there.
My attention was stolen by the sound of Cordy coming down the stairs. Finally. “Dawn’s pretty beat, pretty freaked too… you might wanna look in on her. I think she’d like it.”
Buffy nodded. Accepted advice. “No problem. Thanks Cordy.”
“I’ll be out in the car Faith, make it quick.”
Make what quick? She said her goodbye and left, pulled the door shut behind her. “Right, so tomorrow then. Patrol?”
“It’s a date.” My eyebrows shot up. Hers did too. I guess she spoke before thinking. She flushed a pretty colour, cheeks flaming red.
“Cool it B, I won’t be bringing flowers, don’t worry.” I offered a little wink. Released the tension. I opened the door up again. A little of me wanting to stand there and do it a few times over. I never knew that opening doors could hold such fascination as it did right then.
“I’ll see you tomorrow then. Thanks for coming.”
“It was a blast… thanks for the invite.”
I didn’t add the ‘please don’t EVER invite me to one of your damned cursed birthdays EVER again’. I didn’t think it would sound too grateful.
I dragged my aching carcass off of the porch and made my way to the car. Slipped in besides Cordy, implored her to take me home. I didn’t look back as we were leaving, I didn’t wanna see if she was watching me go. Both answers would confuse me. The yes or the no.
I snoozed off in the car, got shook awake. Made my way into the apartment and crashed out again. I was fucking exhausted. Physically, mentally. Emotionally. Exhausted.
There was so much to feel, to dissect. To break down and consider. But not yet. Not now. Now was just for sleeping.
He paced the darkened basement as if he were a man possessed. To Andrew he looked like a man possessed. Never had he seen before the kinds of things he had seen tonight. The conjuring by Johnathan… the raw naked power displayed by Warren. He was scared, he was past scared… terrified even. Everything felt as if it was spinning out of control. He felt dizzy. Like he wanted to stop the ride and dismount. Stop it before it was too late. Before Warren succeeded.
The thing, the beast… whatever it was that Johnathan had created had been the thing of nightmares. All howling and scowling, craving pain. He had watched as it had appeared before them, its limbs as new to it as a fresh born baby. Its cries just as fierce. Had sat back terrified as Warren had stood before it unfazed. As the beast had fallen to the floor. At the feet of his master.
He didn’t understand what happened after. The new words being chanted by Johnathan, the air as it crackled with an intensity which held them all rigid. Warren and the beast as they had screamed in unison. And then the silence. The waiting.
They had released the monster from its binds. Set it free to do Warren’s bidding. The two minions able to do nothing but watch as their leader swayed trance like in the middle of the room, his eyes burning the deepest of blacks. The sounds which seemed to reverberate from the very ether itself. Screams of pain. Screams of terror.
At one point everything had frozen. Stopped dead. Warren with his arms spread wide, a sickening grin of depravity resting upon his lips. They had seen as he started to glow… as if soaking up power, becoming even more stronger than they had already witnessed.
Andrew had almost chosen that moment. If he had of been a hero it would have been the moment. His crazed mentor lost to whatever sensation had overtaken him… unprepared. Unarmed. If Andrew had been a hero he knew he would of taken him then. Ended it then. But he wasn’t and he hadn’t. He had instead watched as Warren seemed to crumple himself… the scream of agony which fell from his mouth a short respite to the manic shouts of approval.
For a second he hoped that it was over. That the power had become too much, had short circuited and destroyed Warren for them. But that hadn’t happened either. He had regained his composure… re-entered his trance. Stood tall and firm. Strong.
Him and Johnathan had both cowered back against the wall when the words left his body. Screaming for the wish demon, screaming for a way out. And then back to them. Here amongst them. Looking for retribution for all that he hadn’t gained. Another plan failed.
“What does it take..? What do I have to do to get a damn thing accomplished around here..?” Neither of Warren’s minions spoke. Neither of them daring to open their mouths and risk further wrath from the ball of rage in front of them. “Answer me! Andrew?”
“Me?”
“Yes you…” He stalked to a place in front of the blonde boy. Lifted his hand and ran it gently down his face, stopping at his chin, closing his grasp and holding him rigid. “…you who is supposed to be the inside man, you who is supposed to be getting us information… you who is so damn pathetic, and useless… tell me Andrew, why should I let you live?”
“I… uh…”
“Not a very good argument is it?” He dropped his hand and let the boy reclaim use of his head. Watched as he stretched the tendons in his neck.
“I’ll… I can do better?” Andrew hoped his voice wasn’t betraying what his sure his pants were. He was shitting himself. He didn’t think he could do better. There wasn’t anything to be learned from the house on Revello drive other than the fact that it housed a bunch of real nice people. People better than him. People that used what gifts they had for the good of mankind, not for the bad.
“You had better DO better Andrew. When the time comes, and don’t doubt that the time will come, I won’t be supporting hangers on… wastes of space. My world will be for the strong…” He had gone into pose mode again. Pacing the ground with an air of importance, as if he truly believed every word which sprang from his mouth. “…not the weak. Not the defeated.” He stopped in front of Andrew again. Raised his hand and caressed his face again. “Do you want to be in my world Andrew? Do you want to belong?”
Andrew could feel the sweat as it beaded across his forehead. As it slipped down the back of his neck and trailed down his spine. It felt icy cold. Like fear. Of course he wanted to belong, to survive… but like this. As Warren’s tool? He brought his wavering eyes steady with Warren’s, prayed he could still hold his nerve to speak. “I want to belong… I want to do better.”
He collapsed a little as he spoke it. Again allied himself at Warren’s side.
The depraved grin was back on the leader's face, back in his eyes, eating at his soul. He left the blonde one, turned to Johnathan. He had done well tonight, had channelled the magic his master had sent. Channelled it through to Warren, given him the extra power. He observed him now, cowering in the corner, pretending that he didn’t know that Warren’s gaze was falling on him. “Johnathan..? Come here.”
He bumbled from his place, stumbled keeping one foot in front of the other. Inside he had already given up… already accepted that Warren would win and he would probably die. It didn’t seem so important. He didn’t feel so important. Maybe helping Warren achieve the ultimate evil had been his point to life, his reason.
“Yes master?” He had taken to calling Warren that all the time. It kept him placated, lessened the severity with which he spoke to him.
“Excellent work tonight, you did well… you impressed me for once.”
He wanted to cry. Maybe it wasn’t all over? Maybe he would still have a chance to exist in the world that Warren was creating. “Thank you… master.”
He made himself smaller. Smaller than normal. He didn’t know whether to fall to the ground and worship at Warren’s feet. A little bit of him felt like that would be a good idea, but the tiny bit which still begged him to find some self respect wouldn’t let that happen. Made him still feel his back bone even though it was bent nearly double.
He breathed easier as Warren turned from him. The attention gone from him for just a moment. It was hard to guess what would be next, everything seemed to have gone crazy the last couple of weeks… rushing towards something that he never would have expected. Never would have fathomed.
Warren turned again. Spoke to him. “I want the demon. Get her for me Johnathan… call her forth.”
“The demon?”
“The wish demon you fool! The bitch that ruined our plans…”
It was easy for Johnathan to summon her. When Warren had plunged his hands into evil and marked his face with the residue, he had gained power… borrowed power. It had allowed him to beat back the hierarchy that had existed for generations amongst the underworld of the demon. He had only to show them a glimpse of what was coming and they had fled. Had hopped dimension… left this one alone. Rulers like D’Hoffryn had scampered without a fight, happier to save his own skin than to stay and fight for the lives of his charges.
Warren could do as he wished to them now. And he didn’t have to wish for it. He watched as Johnathan performed the chant that would summon the traitorous bitch. Bring her forth for retribution.
She looked shocked as she appeared. Her eyes widening as they took in the basement again. The look on Warren’s face. “You? Again?”
“Yes, me… you owe me a witch.”
“I owe you nothing… I granted the girl's wish, that was all I offered you. All that you asked for.”
He let the smile curve slowly along his lips. Taking its time to settle there. Looking like it didn’t belong there. “When will you understand? Things have changed demon… I don’t ask you for anything… I tell you. And then you do it.”
Hallie was sick of this. She hadn’t existed for over a thousand years to have her authority challenged by this poor excuse for a human. D’Hoffryn was gone, of that she was aware… new power was coming, but this? This boy was still just a boy. She let a growl emanate low in her chest, let it travel up through her throat, let the features of her face change to show her true form. “YOU do NOT tell me anything boy!”
Her fist travelled fast from her side, her arm raising with the speed befitting a demon, looking to strike, to regain some pride. She saw as he grabbed it, felt as he began to crush it slowly in his own vice like grip.
“You dare to strike me demon..? You think I would let you touch me..? You think my master would let you touch me?”
She couldn’t think through the pain, couldn’t form words of supplication. She let out the slightest sound. It sounded like ‘sorry’.
He released her hand, laughed as she fell to the floor in agony. “You have no power anymore demon, the only power you have is in wishes…” He turned and looked at his two minions, flashed a confident smile. “…and no one here has wishes for you… has anything for you.”
He couldn’t see the looks exchanged behind him. As soon as his eyes had returned to the woman, his followers eyes had sought out each other. Both of them wondering if they were brave enough to break ranks. To kick start a mutiny. For the minute they weren’t. Neither of them.
“Johnathan?”
“Uh yes master…” He scrambled quickly to Warren’s side. Cast a quick glance down at the granter of wishes. “…what do you need?”
“Her… this thing, I want her locked up… kept here, whatever it is you magic types do to keep people trapped… do it.” He reached down and roughly drew the demon back to her feet. “I want her for a pet… my own wish granter, has to be good don’t you think?”
“I can only grant wishes of the scorned…”
“Shut up!” He shook her violently from the place that he held her, reminded her again that he was in charge, that she was nothing. “Believe it or not demon I know that… but then I also know that quite a few people will be looking to scorn me very soon… it’s nice to keep a little secret weapon up the sleeve…”
Halfrek was powerless to do anything other than offer submission. To accept the magical binds which were tightened all around her. If only she had given more warning to Anyanka… had spoken of the basement, of the boy who would be king. But she hadn’t, had instead believed that she would come out of it okay, that D’Hoffryn would return to take care of his… but it hadn’t happened. Not yet. So submission was all that she had.
Warren himself watched with glee as the binds slipped into place around the limbs of the demon. Making her docile. Making her his. He may have failed tonight, but it was getting closer… he could tell. The power within him was growing, the power to affect his own destiny, to work his own will. Soon the witch would be his, and after that Willow.
Tonight, through the eyes of the demon, he had seen how easy she was to tempt. How close she was to falling. He wanted her to fall. Wanted to catch her. Wanted to give her everything she needed to give him the thing that he needed.
If she would embrace the dark magics, carry on the path which she had already stood upon, so close to the edge… then he could use her to wield the power needed to open the portal. To bring his master through the dimensions. From there to here. Past to present.
It excited him like nothing other. Caused the blood to rush faster through his veins, the energy to flow through his system. It enriched him, made him want more. Want everything.
He summoned Andrew to him once more, offered him a sickly smile to soften his nerves. “I need a weakness Andrew, I need something… anything to work with.” The boy nodded his head frantically, almost detaching from his neck, so keen was he to show he could do it. “The slayers, both of them…” He narrowed his eyes, thought through his plans. “…find me a weakness. I want them gone.”
Andrew swallowed his gulp. Tried again to assure with nods. He was scared of the slayers, especially the dark one… Faith. She eyed him suspiciously, made him feel uncomfortable… like he needed to pee. He was sure that there wasn’t a weakness, no dents in their armour that would be easy to observe.
Warren slid his hand over the features of his follower again. Fixed his eyes deep into his. Spoke no words of comfort. “Don’t let me down Andrew, it wouldn’t be good for you. Not very good at all.”
They chilled the boy to the bone. Made him forget every thought of heroism and mutiny. Made him want nothing more than to discover a crack in the foundations. Something that could bring the house of the slayer tumbling down.
He would hunt for weaknesses. He wouldn’t stop until he had found them.
POV Tara.
I sat here all night waiting for the morning. Waiting for the sunshine. An end to the darkness. And now as it comes? Now all I can see are the shadows that sit around her eyes. The deepening purple of the bruise on her cheek. It’s not right. She doesn’t look like my Willow. My love.
I reach my hand out softly to try and draw back her hair. I don’t want to wake her, I know she needs the rest. But I want to touch her, I need to touch her. Maybe to make her mine again. To banish the things which would take her away from me.
The beast thing was so damn scary. The first second I was confident stood behind Buffy. Nothing much ever slips past her defences, and yes my heart had raced, but still I felt safe. Just for a second.
And then that had ended. Ended with a fist of concrete delivered to the side of my head. It’s a good job I’m used to that kind of punishment, my skull hardened from the years of living at home. Everything had gone black, swimming through unconsciousness, and then Buffy had been there again. Cradling me, whispering words to bring me back… find me in the darkness. I awoke believing it was over, rescued again. But it wasn’t. The worst was still to come.
The chill when she spoke.
It slipped through any warmth I’d ever known. And nothing has ever scared me more.
I understand why. I know why. The thing, the beast, it was there for me. We don’t know what for, no one ever knows what for, but it was me that it was after. I would do anything to save Willow, she was showing that she would do anything to save me. Even make herself less. Give herself to the nothing.
I can’t bear the thought. If saving me means losing herself, then I have nothing to be saved for. She has to know that. She has to understand that.
The blood that flowed from her nose fell for hours. A steady trickle, no amount of tissues rammed into crevices seeming to stem it. That scared me too. Losing Joyce last year to damage in the brain… that kind of thing makes a girl think. Makes a girl worry. I’m so worried.
I look at her again and I feel the tears starting to flow. So much I want an end to these tears. Not just for me, for everybody. My whole life I always felt so alone, so lost, so useless… these people have become my family, given me everything I ever needed. Seeing them all in so much pain is killing me. I want to make it all better. Want to make it all stop.
The bruise looks so livid against the paleness of her skin. Always pale but this morning even more so. Like a porcelain doll just laying there, ready to be broken. If she had received it in any other way I would already be hunting the perpetrator down, looking for retribution for damaging something so special… but instead I offered thanks. Not enough thanks for what Faith did.
If I hadn’t already warmed to her so much then this would have sealed it. Her mind so far ahead of the rest of us, seizing the moment, saving Willow.
And then saving me.
I guess that makes her my hero. I’ll have to tell her, make her laugh. Make her smile.
The little groan that makes its way from Willow’s lips draws my eyes back to her. My hand back to her. Her eyelids flutter open and I can see already the pain that she is in. I go to speak, to ask pointless questions. “Baby..? Are you ok?”
“Tara?” Her gaze fixes slowly on mine, the grogginess plain to see. As her vision clears her eyes grow wider, panic showing. “Oh god… I’m gonna be sick…”
She jumps from the bed, before I can stop her. Before I can tell her to take it easy. I follow after her of course, ready to hold back her hair and whisper that it’s ok. That I’ve got her.
I hear her retching as I come through the door, watch her slide to a place on the floor, rest her sweat beaded head against the coolness of the toilet bowl. I go to her and take the place beside her, slip my hand into hers, offer a soft squeeze. I just want her to know that I’m here.
As she starts to talk her voice is harsh from the vomiting. Harsh on herself with the words she feels she has to say.
“I’m so sorry Tara… I didn’t mean to, I didn’t want to… but I was scared, so scared baby…”
“Shhhh.” I tuck her hair behind her ear and press my lips softly to the side of her head. I feel her wince as if it hurts. Kiss her softer still. “It’s ok, I know what happened… I know why it happened.”
She looks at me hopeful, tears falling softly from the sides of her eyes. “Do you mean it? You won’t leave me again… please?”
Oh goddess she breaks my heart. “No Willow, I won’t leave you. I promise.”
I let my arms glide around her torso, hold her as firmly as I dare. Deep inside I feel the need to hold on and never let go. I feel my love coated in gloom, like this is the beginning, not the end, of what is coming.
The demon said so. She said that something was coming. And she was scared.
I open my arms as I feel her tensing, draw back and hold her hair as she empties more of her stomach into the toilet bowl. It smells putrid, worse than anything she would ever of eaten. Worse than bile.
I take a look, shudder on the inside as I see the colour. Just black. The darkest of blacks. Her body trying to dispel the evil that she had let back in. The dark magic.
If I could make a wish with that demon it would be that she had never even touched the darkness. Had never been shown the things which are best left alone. But then… then we wouldn’t have Buffy back. And how could I ever wish for that?
“Tara… could you get me some water?” The whisper croaks out from her parched lips, and already I’m running the tap, trying to give her whatever she needs. I watch her sip it slowly, the little wince every time that she swallows.
I want to know who did this to her. Who did this to us.
Buffy’s right. This isn’t pranks anymore. This is dangerous. This is life and death.
I watch Willow as she starts to rise, offer her my arm and lead her back to her room. To our room. I won’t be leaving her side again, this is where I belong.
She slips back between the sheets and I do my best at tucking her in. Ask if she needs anything, can she try and eat? Would that be okay? I knew she would shake her head. Didn’t know what she would say.
“Can you just hold me baby? I just need you to hold me.”
Of course I will. I make room in the sheets for two, sit back against the headrest and let her fall into my arms. I could hold her forever. If she needs me to.
“I’m so tired Tara, will you tell me a story…”
A story? I smile at the top of her head. My innocent little Willow. I try and remember all the little nonsense things which I know make her smile, all the tales we had spun since the beginning of us. All of our things. I tell her the one about the pelican who didn’t like to eat fish. He made friends with them instead and gave them all lessons in flying. At the end he developed a taste for frogs. Ate them all.
She likes that one. I let it pull her down to sleep. Her breathing becoming steadier with each word I speak. Each tale I tell. I carry on even when I know she’s asleep. Can’t hear me anymore. I carry on because I need to. Need to stay with her.
I drifted off too. More tired than I knew. Woken up by her shaking, the flailing of limbs. Cries of terror. “Tara… no… TARA!!”
I shook her awake, not worried about gentle, more worried about making her safe. “Willow, sweetie… come on, it’s okay, I’m here… come on.”
She was covered in sweat again. Needing to vomit again. I had missed out on all of this the last time, the effects of the dark stuff. Had made myself leave because I believed that she needed it. Tough love the only thing I knew which might stop her. Now I was here though and I held her close, let her push me away when it became too much. I cried with her when she cried, felt all the same fears as her. In the moments that she felt better we talked it all out.
The beast and the magic. I made her promise no more. No matter what. I impressed on her that there was no point in saving me if my Willow wouldn’t be here waiting for me. I would rather take my chances with beasts than see her fall to the darkness. I couldn’t live through that. It would destroy us both.
She gave me her word as best she could. It’s hard to make promises when your body is still dispelling the magic which you had already before promised yourself away from. I wanted to believe her though, I wanted to believe in her, she needed me to.
I had stayed until she fell into restless fitful, no more cries of terror, just light easy breathing. Downstairs when I got there was all ready cleaned up, nothing left to acknowledge that again our home had been breached by evil. I was sick of it. Why couldn’t things just leave us alone? Let us get on with it.
Buffy was at work already. I don’t know how she does it. Even through all that she is dealing with, all the lack of living in the moment, she still faces her responsibilities as best she can. Never stopping with the slaying, never stopping with the work. You had to admire that. It wasn’t everything but it was something.
Cordy came by again. Staying with Dawn, showing her all the best ways of applying makeup. It kept the tone of the house light, hiding the things that we all knew were happening. I appreciated it, revelled in it. Prayed that Willow would sleep on so as I could lose myself to the guise a little longer.
The doorbell brought surprise and tentative approaches. I know monsters don’t knock for entry, but I was still wary. Still cautious as I made my way there, exchanging little glances with Cordy, both of us waiting on attack.
I breathed my gratitude in a sigh of relief when the door opened up on Andrew. He was the least dangerous thing I think I had ever seen. He always looked nervous, always kind of scared. It was kinda cute. For a boy.
I had smiled him a hello and ushered him inside, laughed at Dawn’s eyes as he stepped forward to offer her makeup tips too. I could imagine him in a salon, fixing up nails. I really don’t think he ever had a crush on Willow. I mean… really.
We offered him snippets of our time locked in the house, his face changing rapidly as we told him about the monster, the pain it inflicted, the damage it caused. We didn’t dwell so much on Willow… he isn’t enough of a friend to know that much of our business. But he still seemed concerned. Frightened for us.
It’s a shame that he can’t help, he seems like he would like to. But what’s one more boy against the things that we face?
We sat around till tea time, each of us adding something to Dawn’s beauty. Andrew painting the nails as I guessed, Cordy trying different things across her face, and me teasing different styles into her newly cut hair. It was a distraction, and until darkness fell it had worked. With the darkness though came back the fear. The memories.
I had to go back to her. Reassure myself that she was still sleeping safely.
I brought her some soup. I knew she wouldn’t want to eat it, but I would make her. She needs to keep her strength up. We all do.
POV Faith.
I never thought that I would wake up and face this day smiling. In fact, falling into bed last night I kinda wondered if I’d bother waking up at all. What a fucking mess right? All of it. Not just even the me and B shit, which is bad enough… but all the other shit? The nasty shit? It’s got me feeling antsy. Far too close to scared.
And yet I woke up smiling.
It makes me smile thinking about the smiles. Which makes me smile more. Which leaves me sitting here grinning like a fucking idiot. A dope.
One god damn kiss. One tiniest moment of pressure, lips against lips. You want me to tell you how it was a second that lasted a lifetime? A reel of film wrapped on replay, spinning over and over, through every breath, every murmur. Every sound of acceptance. Cos I could. I could tell you it’s the thing I remember the most about the ‘party’. The touch that’s lasted the longest. Maybe the deepest of my bruises?
A mistake.
So why the fuck can’t I stop smiling?
Even memories of her drawing back from me. Of her head shaking and pushing me away. It’s not enough. Nothing could be enough to stop this feeling. It’s a crazy feeling. I’ve never had it before… never had a kiss that lasted longer than the flesh touching flesh, meant anything more than a need to be filled. To be fucked. Kissing Buffy has given me a need alright, but fucked ain’t up there at the top. It’s maybe kinda second. But not top.
I dissected her words like I knew that I would, each one a sound bite to be digested and worked through… but in the end I got it. I understood why she would say one thing which contradicted everything else she had shown me in the minutes before. She’s fucking scared. Fucking terrified. Not of me because I’m bad… but of me because I might be good. Good for her.
I remember the time when I first realised I might be good. Angel’s arms had been telling me it, his voice whispering through my cracks to tell me it… but I didn’t realise it until up on that roof. On top of the world, stood there with her.
The moment when I pleaded a way to make it all better. An instant of eye contact before the badness came back. And that was the instance that I first knew… when I looked into her eyes and realised that I really did want to make things better. It wasn’t just words. Another way out.
The realisation scared me so much that I threw myself into fucking prison. Locked myself in Juvie and waited on the madness. I couldn’t be good. Look at me? I was so damn bad.
But my fears were all true. I did have it in me. Angel was right. I was wrong. Again.
So I get that she’s scared now. Of me and the possibilities. I get that she locks herself away from me behind walls of steel. I did the same. Only mine had bars.
Time will show her that I am what I say I am. No more bullshit. No more lies.
Tonight is creeping closer with every beat of my heart and all I know is that I’ll be there at 11. I’ll probably be there at 10. I draw the line at 9.
And I’ll keep being there until she can look at me and see the truth, not just feel it and then back away. But see it. See me.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m too fucking ecstatic that she said she feels it. Admitted that she feels it… but what use is that if she can turn away from it so easily? I need her to know that I’m safe. That I won’t hurt her with the feeling.
So there’s a new plan right? Yeah. Not that I ever had a plan. I kinda long for them days just a few weeks old… the ones where I thought I could come here and not be affected by her. That makes me smile too. I already said that I’m a dope. But now I do have a plan… a strategy maybe? I never learnt the difference.
I’m gonna hobble my sweet little ass over there this evening and I’m gonna show her every fucking reason that she should give me this chance. I’m gonna tell her too. Not with shouting, with losses of clarity… no, I’m gonna be calm. Confident. Lay it out the only way left. With openness and honesty.
Still fucking smiling.
Openness and honesty were never great friends of mine. Not really even acquaintances, but I swear I’m gonna be hanging out with them tonight. It’s all I can think of, my only chance.
Maybe it will provoke some of the same in her…
I can dream right? I spent the whole fucking night and half of today dreaming about my half kiss, so I KNOW I can dream. And how about dreams coming true? Can I do that too? I should’ve wished for it… not fucking secrets and shit.
I’m scared of her secrets, she’s scared of me. And it just won’t work unless I push it aside. Deny the fear and get with the good stuff. It’s like I said… there’s nothing so bad that could ever turn me from her. Nothing.
I’ll tell her that again too. Let her know that I’m willing, if she is, to share secrets.
I know she won’t be as willing as I want, but still I’ll tell her. I want to insist. I wanna take that feeling that I get when we’re close and hold her steady until she gives in to it. Lets it assure her as much as it assures me. But I know that’s the wrong way to go… know that forcing anything from her is the wrong way to go.
So I’ll sit back. I’ll offer her my words, my explanations. And I hope that it will start to be enough. I think it will be. I really think it will be.
It has to be. That kiss has me smiling too much to piss me off today. Please?
When the light outside had started to dim I had started to get myself ready. Not in camouflage or any of that shit… just me. A small slice of leather and the softness of curves… the limp from the purple knee is detracting from the sexy strut… but I can still swing it. Make it work for me. I’m nervous as hell. You know I am… but more than that? More than that I’m excited. It feels right.
Everything is going wrong. Demons and monsters and all sorts of bad shit… but this just feels right. Like I’m heading in the right direction. Meeting my destiny?
Yeah. I’m still thinking the stupid thoughts. But I can’t help it… it’s the memory of the moment of the kiss. Of her forehead resting against mine, her breaths falling in sync with me, her nose as I’d brushed my own against it, so softly, a gentle tease… the way her head slid to accommodate the touch. The way her lips were soft and yielding… the slip of saliva making them wet against mine. God. It feels so fucking right.
Probably means it’s doomed.
I try and cling to the feeling of rejection. The way the blood had slammed through my body demanding action. Demanding that I take everything I need. Everything I want. The destructive voice in my head urging the same. I try and remember it all and let it steel me for more of the same. More of her rejection.
But all I can remember is the way my heart beat for that moment. Like it never had before. Like it had found its whole reason for beating. For giving me life.
I am a fucking wuss. Don’t need tears to prove it. My thoughts are sappy enough.
All day I’ve tried to distract it with thoughts and plans for big bads and demons… but it’s fruitless. Pointless. Whatever that shit is I know we’ll handle it… it’s the way things work out. Good beats evil. Evil goes home.
The churning it gave me in my gut last night is gone. Silenced by the butterflies of the minute. Wings flapping hard to make me unsettled. Makes me wonder how I’d feel if it really was a date. If her slip of the tongue wasn’t a slip, but the truth of what she wants. What she feels. I wanna cross my fingers. Hell, I’d cross all of my limbs if my knee wasn’t fucked.
The hours drawing nearer still and all I can do is sit and wait. Count the seconds.
I never wanted hope. I never wanted this.
If I believe that then I’m a liar and a coward. This is all I’ve ever wanted. All I’ve ever hoped for. And tonight?
I look up at the clock again. Pull myself from the sofa and test out my knee. It takes my weight okay. It hurts in so many ways, but it will carry me. It will get me to her.
Cos tonight is the start of it. The start of everything. I’m gonna be open, and I’m gonna be honest. It’s the best I can offer her now, everything I can offer her.
I’m gonna put the ball in her court and trust in the feeling. I’m gonna put my trust in her. The place I should’ve put it in the beginning.
I try and take it slow as I leave my place, try and stop the skip from damaging my knee any more… but it’s a hard feeling to fight. Yeah, it feels like a date. Just a little tiny date with destiny.
POV Faith.
Is there a word for nervous that makes it sound more? A word which even begins to come close to all these messed up things that I’m feeling? My palms are sweaty. My guts are on a spin cycle. And my mind is fast closing in on a melt down. I paint a beautiful picture. Every girls ideal ‘date’. Not that this is a date… it’s patrolling. Just me and B walking the same old walk. Not a fucking clue what we’re gonna talk about.
That’s the scary thing. Wait, that’s one of the scary things. Not having a clue what to say. I want to be open and honest and all the things I spent the day telling myself about being… but how the fuck do I accomplish that when I’m not even sure how I’m gonna say hello?
I’ve been through: Hey B. To: Hello Buffy. It’s a mighty fine evening, wanna go stake some dead things. And finally to:
Yeah. The silent option. The staring dumbfounded at her face as I wait for her to make the first move. None of them seem to capture the mood though, but then maybe I’d have to throw up at her feet for her to catch how screwed up I’m feeling. It’s a possible option.
Then I could tell her how many cracks there are in the brickwork outside of her workplace, how many gaps in the sidewalk, how many smears on the pane glass of the windows. That would surely remind her that I’m sane now. I’m just insanely nervous. I’ve been standing here counting the monotonous because it was easier than standing here and counting the seconds. Easier than trying to wonder about the things that she might be wondering about.
About her secrets.
I don’t have a watch, never have had a watch. I’ve got that inner clock thing. It tells me when it’s early and it tells me when I’m late. At the moment it’s telling me that I’ve waited long enough, that the time it took to hobble here paired with the time it took to count the bricks is enough… that it’s the dating hour.
And I’ve really gotta get that damn ‘date’ word out of my head. Not my fault though. It wasn’t me that said it.
I know she’s coming before I see her. Her scent being carried across the air… all mixed in with the smell of the putrid offal. It builds the anticipation in me. I try to smile… it feels like a grimace. I try and relax and my shoulders hurt with the tension. And then I see her. And I do smile. I can’t do anything else.
She’s approaching me with a perky frown on her face. Yeah, I know… perky frown? Only she can do it. Can make looking pissed off such a favourable expression. I run my phrase book through my head, every step closer and I’m considering a different hello, a different welcome. She beats me to it. “I know, I know… I‘m late. Was you waiting long?”
What to say? Honesty and openness? “Not so long B, pretty much just got here… I thought I was the late one.” And I watch as that perky frown turns to perked amusement.
“Funny, I thought I saw a girl just like you hobbling around outside about an hour ago. I thought to self… gee, Faith’s pretty keen with the early… now though?” Her eyebrows twitch and even I’m proper smiling. “Now I’m thinking I was wrong, that I don’t have to worry about the apologies for being late.”
Apologies? Shit, don’t even fucking go there. I’d never take an apology from her. I have no right to. I owe her too many. “It’s cool B… not me. Although hot and hobbling? I see why you might have got confused.” I’m lying, she knows I’m lying, and we’re both still smiling. I should definitely reconsider honest.
She hands me a brown paper food bag, tells me she guessed I might be hungry, what with the waiting around. And she winks. And there’s no way I’m eating anything with the state that my stomach is in. I REALLY don’t wanna throw up at her feet. Things are going well. And the smell from the bag is pretty much enough to have me wondering how I ever used to eat this shit.
There was a time I survived on it. But then that was back in the days when I only knew how to survive. I’m trying the whole living thing now… means much better food.
I let her down gently though, I am grateful for the thought, shocked that she thought of me at all really. So I don’t slam dunk it into the nearest trashcan, I rub my tummy and assure her that I’m full from earlier… I just got here after all, and you know I ate before I left.
She’s watching me as I’m sliding it gently in with the rubbish, and now she’s watching as I make my way back. “How’s the knee, looks like you’re limping a little?”
“Doesn’t hurt too much… a bit stiff, reluctant to walk for me, but you know, I can deal.” In truth I had started to forget it, lost myself in sensations so much nicer than pain. I remember it’s nice to swap concern, gesture towards the shoulder that’s damaged. Try not to remember how it felt under the tips of my finger. The softness of the base of her neck. “What about you B? You healing up nicely?”
“Like I said, just a scratch.” Her voice sounds a little like it’s forcing chipper, and I can imagine that the nasty slash is still causing her some ouches. I don’t say anything though. I’m used to hiding the pain, I guess she is too.
I let her take the lead, let her set the pace. She keeps it slow and I know that she knows that the knee IS still hurting. It makes me smile for no reason. Maybe because it feels like she cares, or maybe it’s just because I know that she gets it. Hiding pain doesn’t stop it from hurting none. And it is starting to hurt like a bitch.
These boots weren’t made for walking. It’s official.
I look down at the heavy steel capped numbers I’m wearing and I wanna smack myself for being an idiot. It’s all well and good knowing that the steel is great for smashing the faces of evil… it helps if you can swing your leg at all though, and I know that my leg isn’t swinging anywhere in these. I should of worn sneakers.
We make our way slow and steady through the first cemetery, not really chatting, both pretending that the silence is good for the hunt. It’s a stupid thing to hide behind. As if vampires are scared off by noise. The sight of two hot chicks like us and the dead fuckers will surely salivate… won’t matter a shit if we’re talking or not. But for the moment it’s ok. It’s just ok being here. With her.
But no vampires ARE biting. Or sniffing. Or doing much of anything.
I wonder how long to leave it. How long to maybe ask B if she hasn’t finished off all of the evil in this town and maybe we should just call it quits. Declare the hellmouth closed for business. But I am still leaving it. Contentedly letting my step sit happy with hers, nice and slow. Wherever it takes us.
It takes us through two more empty cemeteries. Not a sign of anything unusual, which in itself is as unusual as fuck. This is Sunnydale for gods sake! I can’t take it no more, I look to B and ask. “Where the hell is all the evil B? I swear… I sweep on my own and there’s all sorts of nasty shit, I patrol with you and not a sniff of action…” I give her a look as confused as I’m feeling. “…what gives?”
“Perks of the job Faith.”
Huh? Make that doubly confused. “The job? The slaying..?”
She shakes her head, spreads her arms out. “The aroma of the double meat palace… repels all evil or your money back.”
I look at her like maybe she’s kidding. See that she’s not. “You mean it? That smell keeps the vamps at bay?” I thought it was garlic that did that shit. Although, to be fair… she stinks up a treat. It’s not high on the list of appetising. Not if you’re evil.
“Seriously. At first I was offended, now I like the peace and quiet…”
She trails off as the biggest stupidest looking vamp I’ve seen in ages plants itself right in our path. “You were saying B?”
“Ok, sometimes it’s not so effective…”
“I guess you should ask for your money back.”
I keep one eye on her and await her reply, the other on the thing which wants to make us dinner. I know there’s no chance, but I’m thinking about the leg. About the shoulder. It may need both of us, I wanna be on the ball. Ready to back her up.
It seems the vamp doesn’t have the manners to wait on Buffy’s answer, already he’s lumbering towards us and I’m just waiting to see which way he attacks. Let myself slide back as it’s me that he turns to.
“I told ya Faith, none of them want to bite me no more…”
I tune out her words as the vamp throws out its fists. They look like two sledgehammers. With digits and stuff. She’s still babbling and I’m still not listening… he’s passing me punches and I’m catching each one. It’s barely even a work out. A big old softie. Or a newbie. Soon to be a no more-ie?
From the corner of my eye I see her slip herself up onto a gravestone. She’s twirling a stake in her hand, watching more amused than worried, not a hint of concern anywhere about her.
Makes me smile into my attacks.
In the old days, in my unrestrained days, she always looked concerned. Wouldn’t matter what I was slaying, if we were fighting at each others sides or not… she always looked worried. Like she didn’t trust me to get the job done. I take her amusement as some kind of acceptance. Acknowledgement that she knows I’m ok.
Or maybe she just wants me to get eaten?
The thought makes me throw my glance back to her, just for a second, just to judge one way or the other. I take my eyes from the fight, my attention away from my opponent. And I feel as the fucker whacks me square across my jaw.
“Jesus fuck!” It’s all that falls out before he lands another. Just the side of the eye this time. Just enough to get me fucking pissed off. I shake my head steady on the top of my shoulders and give him a long list of old Boston curses. My mom would be proud.
He’s not looking impressed though. I duck low as he swings another, concentrate my thoughts on seeing the opening, the clearing for some dusting. I come back up and catch him hard in the chest, my fist relishing the feel of ribs crunching against ribs, of his howl of both anger and pain.
He just looks confused now and I know his dead skull is trying to work out how I hit him so hard. I don’t waste time before I hit him again, convey the word ‘slayer’ not with my mouth but with my flurry of punches. He has to know that he’s beat. It’s just a case of when I wanna stake him. How long I let his non-existence last.
I wanna throw in a wise crack, show Buffy that I still got the moves with my tongue, it’s not just about the muscle, but even this fleeting thought of her is enough to get my head turning, my eyes seeking out the only thing that they covet. Still on the tombstone, eyes firmly fixed on me.
Again I seek to smile, to let her know how good her eyes on me feel.
Her lack of return smile registers just before my scream. Just before the sickening feel of my knee taking 300 lbs of solid meat crashed against it. I fall to the floor and I don’t even care about dead things, and alive things and anything at all. It hurts and I’m damn close to crying.
“Faith!”
That does it. I turn my body to face the sound of salvation, feel the rush of air as the vamps foot smacks hard against the place from where I just moved my head. “Good call B…”
And yeah I mean it.
She doesn’t waste time accepting my gratitude. She’s already swinging the beast round to face her, reminding the undead that there’s two slayers in town. I raise myself up on my elbows, watching in fascination as her body lets itself free.
It’s poetry. Pure fucking poetry. Not like watching her get tossed by the thing the other night, watching her take hits that send her flying… no. This is watching her at her best… the speed of my vision keeping track of every one of her moves. Feeling that old hum… the beauty of the knowledge of knowing where she’s going. What she’s doing. I see it all. And damn right I fucking feel it.
My muscles are itching to fall into synchronicity, even my wasted leg letting me know that it wants to telegraph moves with her. Wants to let itself go to get lost in that bond. It hurts passed the pain to have to sit and play voyeur. To have to offer the slow impressed clap that my hands are seeking to offer as she bursts it into dust.
“Nice show B, you’ve been practicing ain’t ya?” I wiggle my eyebrows without even meaning to, like silent traitors to my every fleeting thought. I wanna pin them into place, want to say words without hidden meaning.
Her turn is slow, her breathing slightly deep. “It’s a good job too…” She paces her way over to me and extends out her hand. “…I thought you were coming along to look after me?”
My chuckle breaks the silence that holding her hand makes me feel. “I never said that, I just figured with the shoulder that you might need…”
She’s lifting me up with the arm attached to that shoulder now. The smile on those lips growing bigger by the second. “The shoulders not so bad Faith, now how about the knee?”
Fucked.
I stumble a little as her arm seeks to steady me. I don’t mean to lean on her, I just… for a second, my knee… I just. I swallow a grunt as I try to push it back to the floor, try to let my weight distribute itself across my aching joints. And it’s useless. My knee just doesn’t wanna take it. It’s had enough. I kinda don’t blame it.
I whimper a little as I raise it again. It makes her speak my name. Lets me slip the cover from my eyes and show her just how much the damn thing is hurting.
“Come on, let’s get you over there.”
Over where? I don’t ask. She’s sliding my arm around her shoulder and letting me put most of my weight onto her. Her other arm is sliding across my back, holding me steady to her, against her. And I don’t care where the fuck she takes me. I’m happy to go there.
The gravestone that was home to her ass just a minute ago is now gonna be home to mine. We stop in front of it, not quite sure of the dynamics in getting me up there. I won’t play the fucking damsel in distress though, it’s nice to feel her next to me but I won’t play dead for no one.
I take the seconds agony just to be able to pull myself up. Sigh in absolute displeasure once I finally come to rest. “Have I ever mentioned I hate this shit?” She laughs so I narrow my gaze. “No bullshit B, I’m getting too old for this…”
“You’re getting too old?” She carries right on with the giggles. “You do remember how long I’ve been doing this right?”
Of course I do. As if I’d forget anything. “I know the story B…” I motion pretty pathetically to my useless lump of leg. “…as I’m the one feeling the pain though I think it’s only right that I get to bitch.”
She nods sagely and it’s nice to be in agreement. “Although if you hadn’t let yourself get distracted…”
“Hey! No fair!” Her eyes are dancing with mischief but it still hurts a little. I search for insults from her, makes it easy to find them. “I wasn’t distracted, I was…”
Ok. Now I’m brain dead. I was what?
“Cool it miss sensitive…” Me? Sensitive? I feel her hand as it touches my leg and ‘cooling it’ is miles from the equation. “…can I pull up your pant leg? Get a look at the damage?”
The insult that never was is easy to let go off. I’m just left trying to hold onto some dignity. Her fingers are light as they tease up the seam, getting bolder as they seek to find flesh under material. I try not to gasp, try not to breathe. I do both. Heavy.
“Is that ok? Am I hurting you?” God her voice sounds serene. I know it should calm me, should make my heart steady, but it’s doing the opposite. Hearing that worry… that caring in her tone. Do I have to mention marshmallows again?
“S’ok B, I can take it.” And I do steady myself again. Switch my thoughts to anything except the feel of her hands on my flesh. Her skin on my skin. Don’t pay heed to the feather light touches that she’s gliding across the offending area, don’t listen to the heavy concern which makes her words weigh like boulders on my ears. As she touches my knee cap I really do forget. I hiss and screw my eyes shut, let another of those whimpers creep past my lips. “Jeez that hurts.”
“I get that…” She stops prodding and I let my eyes open. See the picture of concern that she has become. “…I think patrol might be over.”
“No shit? I was thinking we could head out to Restfield…” I whelp as she slaps her hand down on my leg. Try and keep the angry frown from crossing my features.
“Oh shit…” She’s looking at her hand, looking at my leg. “…I didn’t mean, I forgot…”
“And you bitched at me for getting distracted.” I pick up her arm with my hand, make a pointed gesture of taking it far away from my knee. And no, I’m not stupid. I don’t want her to think that I don’t want her touching me. I slip her hand onto the other knee, this time let my eyebrows out to play on purpose. “How about you rest it there B? You can squeeze away at that one all you want.”
The darkness isn’t enough to save her blushes, but then it never was. I’m not surprised as she moves her hand. It’s funny to watch her work out where to put it, finally letting it fall to her side. Kind of rigid. Kind of like she’s working at keeping control.
I know the feeling well.
For the second that it feels like awkward silence might descend I worry again at all to say. Where to start. And again it’s her that pulls the first words from her mouth. “Can you walk home on the leg? Cos we can always call Xander… he won’t mind bringing the car round…”
“Nah. It’s cool… just give me a minute yeah.” I stretch out my leg to prove that I can and smile my hardest through the wincing. “I’ll be great in a minute. Good as new.”
She doesn’t look convinced but it doesn’t really matter. I’ll crawl at her side if I have to. I slide my way along the gravestone and make room for her to sit. It seems only fair that she gets a seat too. She’s got a sore shoulder, remember?
And it’s comfortable silence now. In a moment I’ll start to speak, but for this second I can wait. Just happy to be sat with her. Yeah. On a gravestone in the middle of the cemetery. It makes me laugh just a touch. Makes her question my motives.
“I was just thinking how nice it is B.”
“How nice what is?” And she genuinely does look all sorts of interested. So I keep to my track of honest and open.
“This… just being here, with you… and none of the aggro.” She’s looking at me and not away. Listening to me. “It’s nice.”
“Yeah. You know Faith?” I shake my head. I don’t know. “It really is nice. The no aggro… just being here.”
They weren’t words shouted out loud, they barely made it past her lips. But to me? I felt them as if she had hollered them. And I’m smiling again. “I did tell you, work on less hostile and we can find the fun.”
“Hey…” She knocks her shoulder into mine, I guess it really doesn’t hurt so bad. “…I said it was nice, I never mentioned any fun!”
I try my best at keeping the talk light and free. Nothing that will weigh us down in a moment when everything feels so easy. Of course it happens though. My words leading us to places that I wanted to get to. Even if it hurts a little, I wanted us to get here. To get to say words that mean something.
She’s telling me more about coming back. Her eyes far away and haunted as she talks of being dead. I don’t want graphics, but I can’t help but feel her as she throws in a comment about digging her way from the grave.
I remember laughing. I remember taking a small piece of pleasure from guessing at her pain. But now? Now it hurts me just to imagine. Being in the ground. It’s fucked up. It’s the place that the fucking vamps come from, not the slayer.
I wanna ask if it’s different. If she still feels like her… underneath all the crap. I wait till her voice has paused in its monotone. Until the air has stopped echoing with the distress of her tale. Her eyes burn into me as the words leave my mouth, showing sadness. A whole freaking show of sadness.
“Yeah… sure, I still feel like me.” She leans back and takes a big old breath in. Blows it back out as a sigh. “I have the same life, how could I feel any different?” I shrug my shoulders, I don’t know. “But… heck, there’s things, emotions… things which used to make me happy and now can’t make me smile… things like that make me wonder too…” I smile just a touch and offer a nod. I want her to keep talking. This is what I want. I want to be let in. “…I always felt alone before Faith, as the slayer… apart from everyone… but now it’s just worse. I feel truly alone. Not just as the slayer… as me. Buffy… I just feel alone.”
And I join her sigh with a chorus of my own. I wanna bite my tongue, don’t want to provoke a moment that isn’t close… but damn it. Her words are wrong. And I have to tell her.
“That’s crap.”
“You what?”
“I said it’s crap… don’t get me wrong, I read the handbook too…”
“You read the handbook? The ‘slayer’ handbook?”
“Sure, and that’s just it…” I’m nodding my head and looking to find my point. “…I read that stupid thing from cover to cover…”
“Why does everyone get the handbook except me?”
“You didn’t get it?” Well that’s messed up. I thought she was text book girl, and it turns out she never even read the text? Her head is shaking confirming her point. It doesn’t change mine. “That’s not important B, you know the story…” I run it through my head. “…‘one girl, blah blah, evil evil, all alone’” I pause for a second. “That is the same story right?”
“Yes, nice focus on the alone part Faith.”
I grin some sarcasm. It’s easy to feel the shift in the air. As she moves from comfortable, to waiting on attack. “You’re the one with the screwed up focus.”
Her eyes are narrowing. “You want to explain that?”
I sure as hell do. I always wanted to explain this one. “It’s just you B… do you not get it?” I watch her shake her head. “Every single time… every single fucking time that I hear you say those words, that you say that you’re alone…” I try and push confrontation from my tone. Let my true feelings rest there. Appeal to her with truth in my eyes. “…it feels like you’re denying me, denying who I am, what I am…”
“Denying you..?” Her brows got knitted into confused again and I work to explain it out.
“Buffy, god… when I was called, that first minute… it’s like I knew I wasn’t alone. I knew I shared my power… I just didn’t know where. And then coming here… seeing you?” I look at her again, still open. Still honest. “It’s like I got it straight away.” I sigh my way through a montage of memories. “My whole fucked up life I felt alone B… as a kid, growing up, alone was all I ever knew… the minute I found you was the minute that stopped.” I swallow the lump that wants to sit in my throat. “So hearing you say that you’re all alone? It pisses me off. It hurts me.”
I sit back and wait on the backlash. It comes, but it doesn’t sting. It’s less than I expected. Nothing like I expected. “But you’re the one that left me Faith… you were the one that turned ‘this’…” She’s motioning between the two of us as if I need her to point out what ‘this’ is. “…into something else. You know what I thought of you Faith… don’t make out like I was the one that denied you.”
I want my knee to work. I wanna jump down from here and gesticulate and shout and use my hands to throw my frustration around the damn cemetery. I was the one that denied her? As it is I turn as much as I can, don’t care that this close proximity is enough to have me almost grazing noses with her again. This isn’t about that. Not this bit. “Don’t bullshit yourself B, you were stuck in denial from the second I got here… ‘this is my life, my town’… it was all you ever offered me.”
Her knee does work and she does jump down. Does gesticulate and bring the hands into play. “No way! I admit… maybe at the beginning, I was… ‘frosty’, maybe… but at the end Faith?” I wonder if she means the end with the knife. “I wanted nothing more than you at my side, to share things with you… it was you who went evil…”
“Well it was you that fucking pushed me there!” She just stands and glares. I wanna pull the words back, but hell. We’re big girls now. We can deal with the truths.
“I never pushed you, I wanted to help you… we all wanted to help you!”
“You wanted to feed me to Angel.”
I know we’re dealing in different time zones… but it hurts. It always hurt. My tone must have placated some of her anger, maybe it was my words. Whatever it is she’s stopped throwing her hands around, has brought them up to her head. For a second she covers her eyes and I wonder if I haven’t gone too far… haven’t taken this moment just a moment too far. When she pulls away her hands and holds my gaze firm, then I feel as if she is beseeching me to believe.
“I never wanted to feed you to Angel…”
“Yes. You did.” I remember. I remember the hate that she hit me with that night. The all out war. Me pushing, daring her to play the game my way. I never would have stabbed her in the guts and fed her to a vamp though. I was evil as shit but I never would have done that.
I pull my mind back from the path it’s fallen upon. It’s not right for me to sit and judge… to question the actions I forced her into. I open my mouth to take it back… to say it’s ok.
“No Faith, wait…” I meet her eyes and they’re still beseeching. “…you’re right, don’t think that I don’t know that. I was wrong, I handled everything wrong…”
I wanna hold up my hand and stop her but I’m too busy keeping my mouth from hanging open to manage it. Are these words really hers?
“…everything was happening so fast, I couldn’t believe you were with him instead of us… and then you shot Angel, it just span out of control…”
I remember the moments joy at shooting him. Hitting him in the chest. Filling him with the poison. I handled a lot of things wrong too.
“…I think I went a little insano girl too.”
I nod at that. I can believe it. I don’t think about speaking, I just hear my words. They sound so tired, and for an instant it doesn’t sound like me. Doesn’t sound carefree and full of life. It just sounds weary. World weary. Life weary. “Do you think we’ll ever get past it B? Do you think you’ll ever…” I can’t say it.
“Forgive you?”
I look up. “Yeah… that.”
She takes her time and I want her to. I don’t want things that tomorrow won’t mean anything. I want her to think and to mean it with all that she is. I’m holding my breath waiting, just watching her stood before me. Her eyes as they flick back to me, her mouth as it starts to move. “I believe that you’ve changed Faith, is that enough for now? I’m not saying I don’t forgive you or that I won’t… just…” She’s walked back close enough for me to touch. Balanced precariously in my space. I don’t make a move, not a sound. “…just can we do this slow? Can we do it right?”
She’s asking me?
I let the air out from my lungs. Offer her a little smile. “I wanna do this right B.”
And she’s smiling back. And I wanna jump from this tomb and crush her in my arms. Want to tell her that I’m gonna do everything right from now on, that for just the chance of this is all that’s kept me going. I don’t though. I don’t know if I can make more words, if the lump that keeps bobbing in my throat isn’t gonna explode into tears that nobody needs.
I try a cough to clear the feeling. Ignore the look that shows me she knows. “You wanna try and motor? Get the invalid back to base?”
“Nope…” She’s shaking her head and coming in closer, perching herself back in the space right next to me. “…I wanna take another look first, see if it is ok to move you. We can still call Xander.”
I grunt displeasure as she pokes and prods me again. It hurts but I’ll manage. I always have done. “It’s fine, really B…” I catch the raised look, the disbelief. “…look, we’ll get through here and if it still hurts we’ll call the gang ok?”
I like the approval that she nods my way. Her little look of consideration. “You know Faith, I could get used to this talking sense, it’s nice.”
“It is?” More approval. More smiles from me. “It’s Cordy, you spend enough time with her then you have to make sense, it’s either that or end up feeling stupid.”
“I can imagine.” She helps me as I slide off of the tomb, shoots me a sympathetic look as I whimper more distress. “Are you sure you can do this?”
“No.” I grin a little but I do mean it. It fucking hurts. She moves around and she’s supporting me again. Taking my weight. I’m facing her, she’s facing me, I’m in her arms, and I can see the worry that won’t leave her eyes. I have to speak. “I won’t hurt you again, I promise I won’t hurt you again…”
“Faith, don’t…”
“No B, I want to say it.” I see her breathe deep, it’s nothing like the breath I just took. “I’m sorry Buffy, for all of it, everything… I’m sorry.”
I feel her go tense in my arms, my own body stiffening just as much as hers. I’m praying I didn’t just make the biggest mistake yet. Didn’t push it that extra inch too far when I was doing so well. It just felt like the moment to say it. To reassure her.
Her eyes when she shows me them are coated in pain. Lashes sparkling with the dash of tears that haven’t fallen. And I’m so sick of me causing this pain. Any pain for her. My sigh sounds more like a groan, and I know she’s wondering why. Can I say sorry for saying sorry?
I close my eyes on all I caused and go to find my way out of the hole. She stops me, relaxes her body and finds a nice fit. Not just supporting my weight, but holding me steady. “No… Faith…” I don’t wanna look. Don’t wanna see what the ‘no’ is for. “…just wait.”
Well it’s not like I can pull away without collapsing.
The dashes of tears are slipping into streams now and I don’t understand. She speaks again and I hold my breath to hear everything. “It’s ok… what you said? It’s ok.” I want to ask why with the tears then. Why with the pain? “You just, you caught me unguarded… I wasn’t expecting it…”
Her words are lost as I pull her closer. She isn’t rejecting me. Isn’t beating me to death. She’s wrapping her arms tighter around me and I just want to revel in the moment. Let the second be enough. Pretend I can’t hear the sniffles which are leaking out onto my shoulder. I can hear them though, know that my happiness isn’t shared by her. That I’m still making her hurt.
I edge back from the hold, slide an arm up from her body to cradle her face, implore her without words to look at me. Listen to me. I slip my thumb across her cheek and wipe away a tear track. Hold her eyes steady. I don’t know where the words are coming from, but they’re the truth. The open and honest. How I’m feeling. “This has to stop B… okay?” Her eyes narrow into mine, and I offer her more. “These tears, this pain. I don’t want anymore tears Buffy.” I motion again with my hand to the space between us. The thing between us. “This… us? Whatever it is, whatever it might be… it has to stop hurting. I want to stop hurting you.” Her tears have found fresh tracks, as if each of my words are hurting her more. I let my forehead fall to hers, compose myself to say the words that have to be said. “If you tell me to go Buffy, if you say that this is enough, this is the end… if it’s easier for me to not be here… just tell me to go.” My own tears are finding a place now. I don’t want this but I have to give her the choice. If it’s best for her then I’ll give it to her. I’ll walk away. “Just tell me it’s what you want and I’ll go.”
It feels like a death sentence as I stand waiting to hear. As I feel her arms slip to looser around me. The sigh that seems to seal my fate. I wanna take it back. Pull the words back. I hear her sniff, pull back my face to see her say the words. “No Faith, I don’t want you to go.”
What? I step back. What else can I do. She’s just sucker punched me with everything I wanted to hear. As soon as my leg touches ground I remember my knee. Remember what took me to her arms in the first place. I go to collapse and she’s there again. Holding me again.
“Say it again.”
Because maybe I heard wrong. Maybe it was a trick of the wind. A lie carried on the breeze. Teasing my ears. Teasing my heart.
She’s smiling at me funny and it makes me smile too. Even before she says it again. “I want you to stay Faith, I don’t want you to go.”
Each word so succinct. So easy to understand. So easy to answer. “Then I’ll stay B, I’ll stay as long as you need me.”
She pulls me in tight and I stumble against her. Make a hash of this, our first ever real embrace. But it doesn’t matter… nothing matters anymore. I let my nose open up to find her scent beneath the cover. Even the rank odour of double meat not enough to mask it from me.
My head shoots up at the sudden noise. My neck cracking to the left as I hear the steady clap of applause. Buffy’s tensed against me again, both of us on alert. Already replacing heartfelt with slayer felt.
When I see him I want to kill him. Just the way his vibe rolls across the ground to reach me. The safety of B’s arms becoming less so by the minute. She’s still so tense, frozen with her eyes boring into him. “Spike…” She spit’s the sound from her mouth and I agree.
“Well isn’t this just a picture of touching.” His hand goes to the place his heart doesn’t beat and I wonder if he’s showing me the way. Marking a target. “I wondered where you’d been slayer… you don’t call, you don’t visit…”
“Not now Spike.” Her words come out firm and harsh. She turns her body from me to face him, her arm still resting to give me a brace.
“Not now Buffy?” He starts to encroach on our space, sizing her up, stalking her. His eyes are travelling to places that they’ll never have the right to go to. I want to step up, to stand him down. I test again the limits of my pain and shake Buffy’s arm from me.
The movement catches his eye, makes his gaze of depravity slip and slide across my own skin. Makes that twisted smile rest freely on his lips. He doesn’t speak to me though, all his comments are pointing at Buffy. “What’s this then love? Got yourself a new whipping boy…”
And what the fuck does that mean?
His expression is slipping between hate and hurt. The dead fucker looks almost wounded. And it all makes sense! The dumb fuck is in love with the slayer! I almost laugh as the realisation hits me, as the whole fucking irony hits me. Angel would freak. I want to freak! This thing? This thing even dares to think of her like that?
She doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. Still tense. Eyes still boring.
He’s the same. Both of them frozen. It makes me feel uncomfortable.
“B..?”
Wherever she was she comes straight back to me. Her head swinging to catch my eye. To offer a smile just brief. And then back to him, this time with words. “Spike, I said not now… I’ll speak to you later.” He goes to say something else and she cuts him at the chase. “No, Faith’s hurt… I’m taking her home.”
His hand goes to his jacket and on instinct I go for my stake. He slides his eyes to me again. Smiles again. Slowly pulls out his smokes and lights one. “I’ll just be on my way then ladies…” It’s agony as he turns and leaves. My gut is screaming one thing. The one thing I can’t do. When he speaks again it’s as close to temptation as I’ve come. “…I’ll be waiting for you Buffy.”
Those words again. Waiting for her?
Neither of us move as he slopes away. I smell the smoke long after he goes and it leaves the bitter taste I remember so well aching in my throat. She eventually turns back to me, her arms again looking to help me take weight. I want to say something. To take us back, back to the moment before he came along.
Of course I walk in silence.
All the way to my house and we’re coated in silence. Her body keeping me warm, yet her lack of words chilling me somewhere deep. I want to hear her secret.
I tell myself I don’t know her secret. Won’t listen to my own mind forming the words.
I let her half carry me as we lead up the steps to the door. Let her slide the key into the lock and open the door. Then I call for Cordy. I fucking pray for Cordy.
Her face as she sees me is a picture alright. She’s clucking concern, rescuing me from the awkwardness I was starting to feel. Buffy’s arms slip from me and I hold back my tears. I smile. I wink. I show her that I don’t know her secret.
Her eyes are wavering as she bids me goodnight. Her hand freezing in that void that lies somewhere between us. I could raise my hand to meet hers, but I don’t. I lean harder on Cordy, wince out some pain. It covers it. Camouflages it.
“I’ll see you tomorrow Buffy.”
She lets her hand drop and offers me a look of confusion. Pain. “Faith?”
“I’m just beat.” I smile again. Every lie I’ve ever told paling against this one. “We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?”
She smiles back at me. Not full watt. I still see the confusion. Maybe understanding? But she accepts it and turns to leave.
As soon as the door shuts I’m down. Down and out. I let Cordy usher me onto the sofa, let her fuss around my knee some more. She doesn’t ask questions, she knows me well enough to know when not to. I’ll talk when I’m ready to talk.
For now I just want to rest. Need to rest.
There’s a puzzle in my brain and the pieces are starting to fit. To slide into place, all edges meeting. I don’t like the picture I’m seeing. The image as it takes shape unbidden against the back of my eyelids.
I wished that I knew all of her secrets. Now I just wish I could take it back.
POV Tara.
Today was better than yesterday. An easy statement to make. After all, today didn’t begin with a stakeout till dawn. Didn’t begin with the vicious retching of the woman I love. She was calmer today. Her shoulders firm from noon until night, as if holding her body steady would allow her to dispel the sickness from within. To keep a hold on all the feelings which threaten to overwhelm her.
I know how hard it is for her. She told me. About how it feels, when her body gives over to it, lets the power run rampant along all of her senses, the coiling inside, the need to give in… she told me it all with tears in her eyes. Tears of guilt, tears of apology, tears of pleading.
Every time I touched her I could feel it. Like a bad taste on my skin, just below hers. It made her hot, it made her cold, skin clammy against my soothing fingers. I still held her though, still let her words run over my ears as the tears ran from her eyes. It’s hurting both of us and I want it to stop.
I don’t know what to do.
I can’t promise that it will all be okay, I can’t promise that nothing bad will ever happen, I can’t promise her that the temptation will never again come knocking at the door. All I can do is promise her that I love her, that I believe in her. That I see her strength and it keeps me strong.
I can’t make her believe me.
So small she looked wrapped in sheets, centred on the bed, brow furrowing as she tried to hear what I had to say. Tried to deny it with words which sprang from the fear.
‘I’m not strong Tara… how can you say that, you saw what I did, what I wanted to do…’
Of course I did. I felt it more. The chill that swept through the room as evil had perched upon her shoulder, it had reached right through to my core. The pain of cuts and bruises nothing compared to the pain of hearing her lose herself. Surrender herself.
I had taken her back into arms. ‘Yes baby, you are. You’re my strength.’
And I said it so many times that it became a mantra. So many times that the words threatened to lose all their meaning. What more can I do? What else can I say?
I stayed with her until the sadness started falling and her lips began to rise. Just touches at first, her mind clearing from the leftover haze to leave it free to be her. Uniquely her. My smiles growing as hers did. As talk moved away from what she couldn’t do, to things that we were going to do. School talk. Home talk. I’m coming home talk.
That’s when it sealed the deal. The deal with her face to light at my words. The smile no longer tugging but firmly held in place. No hint of blackness in eyes as they danced with the joy of some happiness.
‘You’re coming home?’
‘If that’s what you want… it IS what you want right?’
My voice had slipped into timid, a moment's insecurity blanketing me with the girl I was in the past. Even I wasn’t always strong, even I hadn’t learnt completely how to bury demons in the past. I don’t know that anyone ever truly does. I think we pretend, we pretend and we hope. Hope that nothing comes along to rock our boat, to remind us that the demons are there just waiting for the slip. For just a moments look in.
The arms that found me weren’t soft and gentle, they were fast and furious, wrapped in the sounds of Willow’s joy, of her absolute approval of my returning to the coop. Admonishing me for questioning that what was obvious, the thing that she wanted the most.
It wiped the fears from my heart, reminded me again that I had love. For her and from her. It made me forget about monsters and pranksters, the things that go bump… it made me think of another kind of bumping. A touch I had missed. Hands trembling as they sought to find a way from nervous to sure. To reacquaint themselves with skin they knew so well, grooves they had mapped, sighs they had produced.
Not the frantic pace of burning lust, not the nervy pace of tentative beginnings. Our own pace. Kissing places out of sight, pleasure mixed with giggles mixed with the thing that feels like salvation. Yes she was my strength. And yes she gave me strength. In the moments when I believed my caresses would bring her back to me, she brought me back to her. Burned her love back into my body. Made me whole again.
Her words slipped over my ears as she held me, special words, secret words. Things which made me blush. Things which make me smile to remember. A special welcome home. It cocooned us in our bedroom for hour upon hour, missing sunshine, missing sunset. The gurgles of tummies nothing in comparison to the pounding of our hearts. Sating one hunger before another could be dealt with.
And downstairs. Sisters smiling, wrapped on the couch and watching a movie. Easy to believe that everything was better. That Buffy’s eyes didn’t latch onto mine the moment that I appeared, that her gaze wasn’t imploring me to find time for her. That she needed to speak to me again. I nodded my silent approval, mouthed the word ‘later’, watched her own silent nod of reply, and then followed her eyes as they slipped back to the TV. Her arms as they slid tighter around Dawn.
I let them have their moment. Went to the kitchen and made food for my girl. All on a tray, lovingly prepared. I listened as the movie ended, as voices rose in chatter and laughter, sisterly sniping, things seemingly back in place. I wanted to confirm it for them, prove that we were going to get better, that everything was starting to get better. I waited until I had passed them again, threw my comment over my shoulder as I went to climb the stairs. ‘Oh, and guys… just so you know, I’ll be moving back in.’
I think Buffy shrieked louder than Willow. I know that Dawn did. I backed up against the wall and held Willow’s dinner in the air as the crazy excitable youth leapt her way towards me.
“Oh my god, you are? Oh wow! This is so great…” Like a puppy, jumping, yelping, running back to stand in front of Buffy. “…isn’t this great Buffy? Tara’s moving back in!”
And Buffy’s less excitable but no less heartfelt agreement. “Yes Dawnie, that’s great.” Her eyes as they had sought out mine, full of love. Of smiles. Everything feeling like home.
The evening passing slowly as I stayed in our room, eating, playing. Holding my girl until she slipped into rest. A smile still on her face, a flush still on her skin. It made me never want to leave her, made it hurt to slip from her arms and wrap myself in a robe. But I said that I would make time for Buffy and I like to do as I say.
I don’t know if she was waiting for me. Sat at the table her eyes lost in a book.
“Buffy?”
Her gaze flicked to mine, back to the book. “You know I have no clue what this book is about? I’ve been reading it for the last half an hour and I have no clue what it’s about…”
I leant across her shoulder to see what it was. Laughed out loud as I realised she had been reading one of Willow’s books on quantum physics. “I think you got the wrong book, the research pile is that one.” I pointed out her mistake, one pile for research, one pile for homework. Watched as she coloured just a little.
“Oh, ok… and I knew that, I wanted to read up on some uh…” She peered down at the page she was ‘reading’, a deep frown knitting her brow. “…uh… what’s that word say Tara?”
I laughed a little again at the look on her face, didn’t even bother to try and decipher the words for her. I knew that this was just distraction, keeping her mind occupied, away from all those things that she didn’t want to think about.
“How about we forget the physics and I make us tea?”
“Now? You don’t have to Tara, I get with Willow, and you, and the making up goodyness… I can wait.” She was nodding her head to accentuate her words. “Go on… get back to your girl!”
Tempting? Of course it was. It didn’t happen though. Being there for someone means being there when they need you. Not when you have the time. I made the tea. Urged her through to the couch and settled her down.
“So what’s going on? Is it Faith?”
I’m not stupid. I know that they had patrol last night. Together. I know Buffy was late home.
“Am I really that obvious?”
“Easier to read than the quantum physics.” She took it as the joke it was, smiled a little as she blew on her tea. I let her take a moment to compose whatever it was she wanted to say. Watched her face as she went to speak. Stopped. Opened her mouth. Stopped. I could see the internal struggle to make herself form words. I didn’t rush her, didn’t prod her into action. I just waited.
Finally when her words did come she spoke them with conviction. Eyes locked into mine as if demanding that I hear her. “I have feelings for Faith.”
Five little words which weren’t said to convince me. It was something I already knew, had already accepted. These were words spoken to assure herself. To confirm for herself that it was the truth. I put my hand to hers and held it through the resulting silence. Let her keep the platform to speak all of her words.
“It sounds crazy saying it… but then, I don’t… it feels ‘right’ saying it.” She drew in a breath, spoke it again. “I have feelings for Faith.”
She smiled into my eyes, an unsure smile. It made me want to assure her. “Buffy, it feels right because it’s the truth…” Still unsure. “…it’s so easy to see, so obvious to see, why are you fighting it? Why can’t you just accept it?”
She laughed a little of her laughs, “You want to know?” Of course I did, I nodded my yes, urged her on. “It’s because I’m scared… I’m terrified Tara, all of it, I’m so damn scared.”
“Of Faith… because she was…” I flicked through mad, bad, crazy and psycho. Settled on something less damning. “…unstable?”
And that certainly made her laugh more. “Unstable? Are you kidding me? She was crazy Tara, I mean really, REALLY crazy, knocking on the door of insanity.” Her face was alight as she spoke, as if seeing it again, before her eyes. It didn’t stop the smile though. “But no, that’s not it… I get that’s she’s changed, that she’s the girl I first met and not the monster we made her.”
Those words had spoken volumes to me. I’d never heard anyone take any of the responsibility for what had gone wrong with Faith before now. It had only ever been incriminations. What the girl herself had done. I took it as a positive. That Buffy was accepting finally that every story, no matter how one sided, always had many dimensions.
“So if not that, then what Buffy… what’s to be scared of? You know she has feelings too…”
“I don’t know, I can’t… it’s like…” I saw the briefest flash of pain, just flickering, just a moment. “…I was dead, completely dead… compost dead, and I’ve been dealing with that. Badly I know, but I’ve been trying. And now? Oh god… there is so much to feel, things I can’t help feeling… so strong, I just… it’s overwhelming Tara, I feel so overwhelmed.”
I hadn’t heard Buffy use the word feeling so much in one go since… well, since forever. “But you wanted to feel Buffy. You said you wanted to feel.”
“I know, and I do… just… what if it all goes wrong? What if it’s all too much?”
That was an assurance I couldn’t offer. Nobody could. “Sometimes things do go wrong, it doesn’t matter how much you don’t want it to… how much it hurts.” I knew it was truth. “But you have to take the risk, because when it does work?” I thought upstairs to the one that awaited me. “When it works Buffy it’s the best thing ever. It’s everything.”
I saw her contemplating. Taking in the only advice I could offer. “Wills is so lucky to have you, you do know that?”
“I’m lucky to have her too, it goes both ways.”
I heard her agree. Confirm both of our luck at having each other. “It’s nice to have my beacon shining bright again… helps with the fear.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Doesn’t help so much with the what I do now though.”
She took a moment to drink some more tea. I tried to think of ways to guide her with choices, but I didn’t know either. There was only one way I ever knew to approach any problem. The one time I had dismissed this, things had almost gone wrong. No. Open and honest had to be the way. The only way.
“You should talk to her, tell her how you feel maybe?”
“We did talk… kind of, there was words, whole sentences…” She trailed off, looked confused. “…I told her Tara, I think…”
“You think?”
“I told her I wanted to do this slow, to do it right…” She was nodding her head along with her words. Confirming that her memories were correct. “…and then there was hugging, which was nice, comforting… but then.” Now the nodding stopped and confused returned. She sank back into the sofa with a soft sigh. “I don’t know… she offered to leave, I said I wanted her to stay… then Spike was there.”
“Huh?” I nearly choked on my tea. Spike was there? “Did you just say Spike was there?”
“I know, crazy huh? A vampire walking through the cemetery late at night.” She laughed at her own humour, a bitter little laugh. “And at that moment? Talk about bad timing…”
“Did he… say anything?”
She filled me in on the exchange. The vibe. Her horror at standing between the two of them. Her fear at the secret she held inside. Her fear at Faith knowing. Of having to tell her.
“I can’t even stand it myself Tara, when I think about all that I’ve let him do to me… all the times that he’s touched me, it makes me so sick, so ashamed. How can I expect her to hear that and not…”
“Not what Buffy?”
“I don’t know. Not hate me? It makes me hate myself.”
I shushed down her concern. Reminded her that there were reasons she had gone to Spike. Things that she was dealing with. It didn’t make her a bad person. It didn’t make her unlovable.
“But what if it does? What if now I’ve realised, now I’ve finally began to see all that she means to me… what if it’s too late?”
I couldn’t answer that. There was only one person who could answer that. “I think you’re gonna have to ask Faith that one. I don’t know… but the feeling that neither of you can hide, maybe you should trust in it… trust in her. Tell her.”
Her eyes had flashed much more pain. I didn’t envy her position, having to risk all the new things she was feeling because of something she had done. Mistakes she had made. Faith had come here hoping for forgiveness. Now Buffy would have to step up and maybe do the same.
“I have to see Spike first.”
“What?” I wondered if maybe she wasn’t a little unstable too. “I don’t think that seeing Spike is the best idea right now sweetie.”
“Oh no! Not like that… I mean, I have to tell him. I haven’t seen him, I need to tell him no more… that it’s over.” Her voice was solid and steady, sure in its words. “I can’t go to Faith, I can’t expect anything from her until it’s finished.”
There was a definite sense to the words she was speaking, but I didn’t want her to go near him again. I didn’t trust him. No one else knew that he could hurt her, the things he was capable of doing to her… and I hated that she would be putting herself into that situation. I had seen the way that he looked at her. That naked carnal want in his eyes… the ownership. It gave me fear. Fear for her.
“Buffy, are you sure you should do that? That it’ll be ok?” I didn’t want to say ‘that he won’t hurt you’, but then I didn’t need to. It was obvious to her what I meant.
“I’m still a slayer, Tara. And he is just a vampire… you really think I can’t handle that?”
Physically? Yes. I did believe, but then emotionally? Mentally? I wasn’t so sure. I didn’t know what kind of hold he had held over her, what had made her keep returning to him when her family was at home waiting. “Are YOU sure you can handle it?”
She smiled with her eyes as she assured me yes. “It’ll be fine. Trust me!”
So I had tried to. It didn’t stop the worry in the back of my mind though. That she shouldn’t be so hasty, shouldn’t assume that he would just let her go. Just like that.
We finished up our tea with more talk of Faith. Buffy filling me in on times that I had never before heard about. Before Faith had gone ‘unstable’ as she was now laughingly calling it. Times when she had felt so free, so relaxed at the side of the other slayer. How different they were, how similar they were… how special they were.
I wanted to prod and to tease that she had it bad. I restrained myself though. It was too new a realisation for her, for me to poke fun at. Instead I sat through the commentary of years gone by, listened to the silence when she hushed herself for the hard bit. Not wanting to keep reliving it, keep speaking it. Happier to remember the time before.
She yawned as she rose and stretched herself out. “Do you think the higher powers will hate me if I don’t patrol tonight?”
“Don’t be silly, you deserve a rest. And if they do start hating I’ll appeal on your behalf. Deal?”
“Sounds better than patrolling, works for me.”
Always so focused on duty. If it hadn’t already proven the case I’d worry that one day it would get her killed. Now I just prayed that it never happened again. That dying once, twice was enough for any girls lifetime. Even the ‘one girl’ in all the world.
We walked the stairs together. Last little chatters about this and that. Not important, all just easy. I watched her go to her room, offered her good night. She wiggled her eyebrows and offered me a better one. Welcomed me home again.
As I closed the door to my room I left all of the problems outside. Willow was sleeping and she looked so lonely in the moonlight. Pale skin reflecting. It was the easiest thing in the world to go to her, to find my place holding her. Feeling her relax back into my arms, jumbling words of love spoken through snoozing. I let myself relax with her and spoke words of my own. Words just for her.
It was the truth that I had told Buffy. When it works it’s the best thing ever. It’s everything.
POV Faith
Today, yesterday, the day before..? It all blurs into one. One long scene filled with the things I didn’t want to see. The knowledge I didn’t want to know. It kept me housebound better than the knee ever could. It hurt worse than the knee ever could. It’s all just fucked up.
I tell myself that I don’t know. That it’s not the truth. Not the secrets she seeks to hide. But I do know. The pieces fit. It all fits.
I remember standing outside of his crypt. That feeling, the burning. The intensity. Makes sense now though. She was in there. It was her I was feeling. Nothing else. Never anything else.
I block the memory of seeing her after. Of believing I was the one for her to crash against. To catch her when she fell. Now I just want to move aside. Want to let her pass me and never look back. The way I thought it would be. Maybe the way it should be.
Jesus! I wanted to kill him for the way that he looked at her. To stand in front of him and offer her protection. Block his view. Keep the monsters at bay. And that just shows how much of a fucking chump I am. Really fucking sweet. The way that his eyes slid? God, the fucking way that his eyes seemed to devour her? It’s not his eyes I see now though, now it’s all of him.
And I just can’t stop seeing him. At her, on her, in her. It fucking rips at me, squeezing my heart in the tightest of vices, tainting the air that I breathe with the taste of his sickness. At least now I know why the fucker keeps on grinning at me. Sardonic grin? Fuck that. I see it now as a satisfied grin. The look that says he has it all. Has had it all. Makes me wanna puke. Again.
All the god damn hours that I’ve sat in my place awake have taunted me. Showing repeats of the things I have never seen, but that I keep seeing over and over. I wonder if she enjoyed it. If she cried out for him, screamed for him, dug in her hands and pulled him in tighter. Closer. If she loved every minute of it. A part of me says that she must of done. She kept going back for more right? Gotta figure that she’s been scratching her itch there for more than a while. Maybe since she clawed her way back, clawed her way out. Seems fucking pointless, all that effort to break ground and then rolling with something that belongs underground. It’s whacked.
It’s got me fucking whacked.
Whacked into numbness. Even when I believe it, I can’t fucking believe it! I wanna ask why, how… Jesus. I don’t wanna know. It feels like a disease. The dead fucker has never laid a hand on me, but just visiting that place? For a second imagining his hands could ever touch me that way? Beyond diseased. I’d tear my skin off. I wanna tear my skin off.
How can I even begin to make sense of something that makes no sense?
Why?
Just tell me fucking why?
I remember little Dawn crying down the phone. That haunts me too. Knowing now what kept her sister at bay, what stopped her from being in the places she should’ve been. That part makes me angry. Old style angry. There just can’t be an explanation. How can there be an excuse for that? I can’t even think of a word for that.
I always thought that I was the wrong one. Even when I helped her taste some badness I was mocking her on the inside for all of her naivety, the innocence that kept her scared. The same innocence that took her from me. Pushed me from her. I’d play it different now. Damn fucking right I would. If I’d known how easy she gave it up for evil I would’ve swept her right up and blown her away.
I didn’t know though did I?
I tried to keep it cool, tried to keep it slow. Tried to fit into her life in a way that made her comfortable. In the background. Edging forwards, scared to make moves. Cocky bravado my only weapon.
Turns out I lost my heart to the girl and I didn’t even know her.
Not sure if I wanna know her. If it wouldn’t be easier to just walk away. Run away. Not for her, for me. I KNOW it would be easier. Its wistful smiles that tug at my lips when I remember the sweet feel of distance. Of sanity.
Then I remember how it feels to walk away from responsibility. From duty. And I know I won’t be leaving. I won’t abandon the fight just because I can’t handle her. I did that before, when it started to go wrong. No. I’ll stay to protect Dawn, Tara. Whoever needs me. Pray that maybe someone can protect me.
Yesterday I was meant to see her. There wasn’t a chance in hell. Cordy rang through, offered explanations of knees of pain, lots of sleep. She sent me best wishes and said she would see me today. The fading of the daylight hours is making me wonder when. Wonder why. What sick little game she wants us to play.
I don’t think I can play pretend. Everything I feel is too real to hide. To stuff beneath smiles and smother with words. As soon as I see her face she’s gonna know that I know. And what happens after that is anybody’s guess.
I wanted to make everything better for her. Can she even begin to make this better for me? Stop me feeling the way that I feel? Cos at this moment it just doesn’t seem worth it. Too much pain in memories to give me the will to fight for something I’ve never had.
And then there’s the other kind of taunting. Not the daylight hours, the hours I sat here awake and thinking. No. As if that wasn’t hard enough. Even more taunting are the dreams. The ones that I had when I closed my eyes. The ones that wrapped me in warmth and made the daylight even harder to bear.
In my dreams I see the other side. The way her eyes have been watching me, following me. Beseeching me to trust in her, believe in her. To pull her up and hold her strong. All the things that I wanted to do, that I thought I was meant to do. Destiny right?
My destiny to love her.
My dreams show me that and I remember different truths. Not truths of secrets untold. Truths of words spoken, of the feeling felt. The truth of being the one that she crashed into, the one that caught her as she fell. The one that offered a hand and helped her up.
Her hands holding me steady. I feel that too. The silence of every moment when her gaze locks into mine. In anger, in pain. In everything. All those moments are silent for me, the rest of the world nothing in comparison to the feel of being at one with her.
God I’m fucked.
I want it so damn bad, more than anything, more than ever. I still want to be the one for her. For her to be the one for me. And then I see it again.
It’s the thing that crashes into me. The thing that sends me falling. Treading rope without a net. And every single fucking time I see that fucker there waiting to push me. His eyes. His smile. His gaze locking onto me. Silent too but a different kind of silence. His vibe that encloses me, daring me, ensnaring me… yeah I feel the darkness. Evil loves company and he’s got his fingers on all of evil’s buttons.
I wanna show him. Evil is as evil does and I can be so fucking evil. I’ve been there, I’ve done it, I’ve worn every T’shirt in every damn size. I want to let him push me and punish him with the result, that silent side is begging for him to push me. To call out the bad girl I’ve spent so long admonishing. My grin would be twice as sardonic as his as I slid home my stake. I wouldn’t give a fuck as he lay defenceless before me. Dust is just dust. I can’t feel anything for dust.
I lie. I fucking hate him.
I’m feeling a whole lot of hate. Makes me antsy.
I shared my own set of visions with Cordy. Her mouth agape as I slid her through the chain of events. Waited with pleading to hear her rebuke every theory. Assure me that yeah, I’m still kinda crazy, still kinda living with a screwed up view of the world. She didn’t though, she couldn’t. It’s like I said. All the pieces fit.
I told her and then I banished her. I don’t want soothing arms or soothing words. It’s all too raw to be soothed. I need answers first. Understanding. Something. Anything.
It kept me from speaking to Angel as well. I didn’t care how many times she banged on the door, how often she threatened to tell him I was losing it if I didn’t come out. I am losing it. I don’t care if she tells him. I laughed when she threatened to break down the door and spank some sense into me though. If my mind wasn’t occupied I would’ve assumed the position and invited her in. But it was occupied. Wading through the shit.
I’m so sick of the shit.
It makes me move now. Lets me smile as I realise my knee isn’t screaming. Make my way to the shower to rinse it all from me. Smell clean. Stay clean. No longer the slayer that rolls in the dirt. The one that’s coated in the bad stuff. I even smile just a little at the realisation that it’s me now looking down at her. Not because I want to smile, because I want to gaze down. But because it’s just so damn surreal. Me feeling more righteous than her?
Fuck smiling a little, I wanna howl with the laughter.
All that time that I believed that I was no good for her, that I wallowed somewhere on the floor, useless beneath her. Yes I killed people, and I know how wrong I was. How bad I was, would do anything to relive the past. And yet… and yet she chooses to be with him? An evil dead thing capable of more death, more pain, more destruction than I could ever get close to. She lets that fucker fill her with his ‘little bit’, and I am below her?
My perspective is screwed. Seems I’ve been viewing the world from the wrong way up. Everything back to front. Nonsensical.
I’m still shaking my head with the insanity of it all as I head for the kitchen. Nothing keeps a slayer’s appetite down. Not for too long. And the smell of the food that’s wafting its way? I’m starving.
She turns to look at me as soon as she hears me. Cordelia Chase in front of a cooker? Makes me smile. Makes her ask.
“What’s so amusing? I thought you were brooding?”
“Yeah, me too.” I offer a solemn nod. “Caught the smell of the cooking though and I just had to see for myself.”
“See what?”
“You, with the domestic…” I wave a hand vaguely in the direction of the pots and pans. “…do you even know what you’re doing?”
That earns a not so sweet smile. “If you were thinking about eating Faith I’d quit that road now… for your info I can cook perfectly well, I just choose not to.” She holds up her hand and wiggles her fingers. “It’s hell on the manicure, all that domestic stuff.”
I can imagine it’s a bitch. I look down at my own nails. Chewed through with the thoughts of the previous hours. I guess madness is hell on a manicure too.
I sit myself at the table and make small talk whilst waiting. The smell of the food making my mouth water with want. I hope she’s making lots. Whatever it is I hope there’s a feast. And she doesn’t disappoint. She very rarely does. All laid out before me, all the foods I love. Her eyes tell me it’s comfort food, so I stuff my belly full and let myself be comforted. It feels good. A bit better.
I let her steer the conversation anyway she wants, knowing where it’s going, small talk nothing to stand in her way. At least she lets me finish chewing before she starts on the questions. Barely lets me swallow.
“So what are you going to do?”
“You expect me to know?” Because I really don’t. All of my ideas are vague ideas.
“You want me to offer suggestions?” She smiles a Cordy smile, eyes dancing. “Because I have lots of options…” She holds her fingers out and starts counting them off, matter of factly, one after the other. “…there’s the dusting for Spike of course, although I’ve considered maiming… prolonging the agony, maybe taking him to the salon and get him a sunbed?”
I wonder if it would work. I could say I didn’t know. Was just worried that his complexion was looking a bit pale… wanted to help. Makes me smile. As an option it doesn’t suck.
She counts through all of her fingers, every scenario more ludicrous than the last, all of them meant to keep me grinning. Keep me happy. Now that we’ve got through all of the fingers though? Now she’s dropping her voice to quiet. Serious replacing playfulness.
“Or you could go and talk to Buffy. Ask her straight out…”
That one doesn’t make me smile. It brings the pain crashing straight back.
“…give her a chance to explain. To give you her reasons.”
I want to scream out how fucking stupid that is. How I don’t even want to see her. Don’t need to see her. That my whole fucking world isn’t balancing on a pin head with the thought of seeing her. Asking her.
‘Hey B, fucked any dead guys lately?’
Is there an explanation for that? Is there any form of reasoning behind that.
“What would you do Cor?”
“What would I do?” She looks for a minute as if she is genuinely considering it. Gives me hope that she’ll have the right answer. “I for one would NEVER have fallen in love with Buffy ‘vamp fetish’ Summers… I mean, really? Not one vamp, but TWO… is there a word for that?”
Of course there is. “Necrophiliac.”
“Ewww… that’s sick… Buffy, layer of the undead…”
I let her carry on as long as she wants. I know in a minute her mind will catch up with mine. Await the blush as she remembers her own feelings for Angel. Considers that she could be heading for some necrophilia of her own…
It’s funny as the realisation sweeps into her tone. Onto her face. Her words changing to find a way out.
“…just one vamp, that would have been different, like… an experiment, but two…? Yep, you sleep with two, you must have a problem…”
“Uh-huh.” I don’t tease her, don’t rag on her for Angel. If those two have a shot at happiness then go for it. I won’t be calling any names. Passing any judgement. Angel is more of a man than any living breathing one I’ve ever met. The whole being undead thing is kinda easy to forget. To forgive.
I wish everything was as easy to forget. Didn’t make me sigh with the absurdity of the situation. I fix my eyes into Cordy’s and show her all that I’m feeling, hit her with the confusion, the pain, the hope, the hurt, the need… I show her everything. Catch that sympathetic smile in response.
“It’ll all work out Faith, whatever happens it’ll all work out.”
“Do ya have any visionary proof?”
“Not exactly… but my sixth sense is also pretty good, I’m getting the ‘it’s all gonna work out ’ vibe. You and Buffy are just so tragic that it has to work…” I have to agree. With the tragic bit. “…the only two girls in all the world with the same deal going on? I don’t wanna say ‘meant to be’… but…”
“Don’t say it Cordy. It’s that kind of thinking that brought me here in the first place.”
I watch her ease back. Stand from the table and start collecting dishes. I know what I have to do. Where I have to go. Not to him, not to seek vengeance for the pain that he’s caused me. But to her. For the answers. The reasoning. To see if I can stand before her and not feel revolted. If I can even bear to hear her form words. Offer the ones I need.
When I look up she’s staring at me. Another sympathetic glance. Another heavy sigh.
“Why does it all have to be so fucked up huh? Why can’t nothing ever just be easy?” I have to ask. Someone has to know.
She doesn’t. She shakes her head. “Faith, it’s not that simple, you know that. Things happen, good things, bad things…” Mostly bad things. “…it’s just another thing, another thing to be worked out. Solved. Sorted.”
“Yeah, simple as.”
“It’s as simple as you let it be. So Buffy’s screwed up, it’s not the end of the world, it just proves that she’s not perfect, that nobody is perfect.”
I know that she’s trying to reach me with those words, to jog memories of when I wasn’t perfect, when I made mistakes. But it’s too soon. For all I know Buffy doesn’t even think that it is a mistake. Really has loved every second of it.
It’s like I said, I know where I have to go. Who I need to see. The only place I can ever hope for answers.
It’s easy to stand strong now on my own two feet, not needing support, my knee barely remembering how bad it was busted. Seems two days in bed is good for the healing. And now it’s just my heart to go.
Cordy smiles when I tell her I’m heading, where I’m headed. “Just go slow Faith. Keep calm and go slow.”
It reminds me of Buffy’s words. ‘Can we do this slow, can we do this right?’ And now I have to find out if we can even do this at all. Keep calm. Go slow.
I arm myself with wood and head into the night. Not sure if I’m preparing myself for slaying, or preparing myself to go for him. Either way it’s good to be prepared. To be ready.
And now I’m standing outside of her house and I am ready. Ready to face her and ready to hear.
To tell her that I know her secret.
POV Faith.
I had knocked on the door firm and steady, had been prepared to face her, ready to face her. My moment, her moment. Everything out in the open, and where do we go from here? All the way over I had worked on composure. On slow and steady wins the race. Keep calm. Save face. And then the door had opened and the truth was put on show.
Not that Buffy had opened the door. How could she? She wasn’t even there.
It was Tara’s eyes that had found rest on me, had looked at the way I looked at her and confirmed already what I guessed I knew. And I saw her get it too, saw the mild flash of horror as she saw that I was already holding the knowledge. No more secrets. Can’t fool Faith. Except I already felt like a fool.
“Faith.” Not questioning, not greeting me. Just my name. Just slid between lips. I waited on more. Raised my eyebrows and leant myself against the porch. “Are you here to see Buffy?”
I let my head fall to the side. Sizing her up. Registering the discomfort she had at being held under my gaze. I wasn’t trying to intimidate her… she was just my first point of anger. The first one who fell under my spotlight, ready for the inquisition. I shook my eyes from her a little, didn’t want her to think that I was skating with crazy. Nodded my head. “Yeah, I’m here to see Buffy.”
I think I snarled over her name in ways that I didn’t mean to. Made Tara’s eyes widen for a minute with the worry of fear. She stepped back and claimed better composure than me, opened the door a little and invited me in. It was good of her, I wouldn’t have invited me in with the vibe I was giving off right then.
I took in the faces as soon as I was through the door. All of the gang, all cosy and sweet. Geek boy there again, sharing popcorn with Dawn. It was calm. All nice and happy. Of course my eyes searched for her, confirmed in minutes that she wasn’t in the room. It made me question Tara, made me want to go find her. “Where is she?”
It made them all look up. Like I shattered the calm with the steel in my voice. I watched them exchange glances. Xander the one with the balls to speak. To challenge my tone. “Uh… Faith, are you and Buffy fighting again? I thought you slay girls had flown past the aggro?”
I offered him a look. My face the canvas for showing how pissed I was.
“They’re fine Xander, I’m just going to take Faith through to the kitchen…” Tara was pulling at me as she spoke, dragging me away from the concern for my sanity which was obvious in the front room. “…have a little chat.”
I didn’t want a little chat though. I wanted direction. To find the one that I was looking for.
She was insistently moving me so I had to follow. Not speaking, just waiting. As soon as we stopped, I was asking again. “Where is she Tara?”
“Faith…” Said softly, said slowly. “…what’s going on?”
“You are joking right?” Because I wasn’t. I was finding it hard to even find a smile for her. She knew. Yeah she did, she knew what the secret was. She had stood back and watched me fall and had never said a word, never given me anything to hold me back. “You know what’s going on Tara. You know all of it.”
“All of it?”
Was she mad? I didn’t come here to play dumb. “All of it. Everything. The whole fucking sick little side show… tell me you didn’t know Tara, tell me that it’s not her secret..?”
I waited, I watched. Almost amused as she telegraphed all that I had already worked out. “How did you…”
“So that is it then?”
She seemed to deflate a little. Sigh a lot. She looked me in the eye and stepped towards me. I stepped straight back. “How long?”
She didn’t know what to do. Was left hovering in limbo as I backed away from any placating touches that she wanted to offer me. Her eyes were tearing up and I didn’t care a shit. Not one fucking bit. What the hell did she have to cry at? Was it her heart breaking in two? Her who had been made to feel like the chump of the century? Every fucking century?
Her mouth did the gaping fish movement, opening and shutting, not sure if she was struggling to find breath or struggling to find words. When they came they offered me nothing. “I… I think you should talk to Buffy, you need to speak to Buffy.”
I flirted with psychosis for just a second, tempted to scream out my absolute fucking dismay at lack of answers! I reeled it and sealed it. I was pissed but not mad. Not that kind of mad. Not yet. Tara didn’t deserve my madness. I would save it. I sighed out my aggression and tried to show her the face of the girl she had been getting to know. The one that could make her smile. Not recoil.
“I get that, so what gives? Where is she?”
And how does silence ever say so much?
It stretched into ridiculous. Her steadfast in refusal to speak the words. Me steadfast in refusal to speak his name. I wouldn’t ask. I wanted told. “Tara?”
“She’ll be back…” She glanced to the clock. “…soon. We have movies planned, she was going to call you… invite you and Cordy over…”
“Where the fuck is she!?”
Could I get any clearer? Did she think that I gave a shit about movies and invites? If B was where I was thinking she was, then no amount of movies would be able to pacify my feelings.
Tara’s eyes were darting back and forth, typical escape route planning. I stepped up. “Just say it.”
My tone sounded resigned. I was resigned. I think that she saw that. That it allowed her to speak. “She’s at Spike’s.”
So whispered. So softly spoken yet hitting so hard. I felt the daze come over me, my whole body screaming the directions to his crypt. Images thrusting. What I would find there? What I would see?
I slammed my fist down on the counter harder than I meant to. My distaste demanding an immediate outlet. She jumped back, flew back. Started words again. “Look Faith… it’s not…”
“Don’t!” As cold as ice. “Don’t give me her god damn excuses.” I didn’t have time for them. I had walked my way here with hope as a companion, a sliver of belief that she could still make it better… could show me still that it was okay. That we could do this right.
There was only one thing that I knew I could do now. One place I could go. Where my body wanted me to go. It felt like slaying. The need. I turned from her to walk away. Stopped moving when she spoke. “Wait Faith.” I didn’t move. “Just go easy on her… give her a chance to explain…”
I didn’t look. Didn’t answer. Strolled towards the kitchen door.
And just guess what I found waiting outside? A little blonde fucking rat, ears all perked for listening. Holding a popcorn bowl, eyes the size of fucking saucers, the smell of fear sneaking from his pants. “What the fuck are you doing?”
He shrivelled before me. No sign of a backbone. “I uh… me?” He held up the bowl, his nervous gaze flitting everywhere but my eyes. “Popcorn.”
Bullshit. I stared some of my rage at him, watched him shrivel a whole more. If I had had the time I would have stayed and whacked some manners into him. Fucking eavesdropping? What kind of shit is that? As it was I just looked. Let him know that listening for gossip at my door was liable to get him dead. Soon. Wondered who he wanted to share my secrets with. Dawn? Guy bonding with Xander? What fucking ever.
I slinked past him and back through the tense front room. All eyes looking but not one having a clue. No one bold enough to speak to me. To even dare to question me. Tara could fill them in when I was gone. Or not. Wouldn’t want to let Buffy’s dirty little secrets out.
The fresh cooling air outside of the house did little to calm me. I was hearing the night time. The call of the darkness. It was easy to let it back in. Just a taster, just a remembrance of the things I had inside. The weapons at my disposal. I walked there without thinking direction, could have closed my eyes and let her pull me. Focusing on the sound of my boots pounding against earth, not the sound of the other pounding, the one in my heart. It was the moment of adrenalin before a fight. The moment of prolonged expectation before my body exploded into action. Every step closer a second passed in the countdown.
And then I was there. The same place as before. Just standing there looking, wondering at what was inside. A little clearer now. No longer a misplaced buzz. A confusing signal. Knowing with absolute fucking certainty that she was in there. With him.
I wanted to howl. Not with tears, but with a warning. It felt so fucking primal, a need so deep to kill, to destroy. Everything around me. Everything that hurt. I wanted to burst straight in there and make quick work of the pain. Job done. Games over.
Instead I took deep breaths. A whole fucking lot of deep breaths. I had focused hard on everything I had learnt. About myself, how to deal with myself. I remembered Angel’s words, soft words, wise words… I grabbed at every single string tethering me to sanity. To self control.
A slow pace to the door. Just trying to breathe.
Should I knock? I didn’t know. Should I just crash through like Buffy had done before? It sounded like a plan.
And that’s just how my mind had worked. Bringing my boot up to smash, to break through the barrier. My knee able to deal with it. Not even feeling it. Eyes scanning, this way that way, shadows, objects, faces. Recognition.
And then nothing. The world stopped spinning. Her eyes locked deep into mine, and for just that moment, before it all came crashing back? In that moment I almost found a smile ‘hello’. How fucked up and messed up. For less than a second I had just seen her, no baggage, no bullshit. The girl that I loved.
And then I was seeing the more. The fear in her eyes. Knowing in that instant beyond any shadows of any stupid doubts. The realisation sitting clear on her face. Round one to the dead fucker. His hands had been all over her. And she knew that I knew it.
She was sat atop a tomb with him at her side. The sweetest flowing white shirt encasing her body, crisp blue denim encasing her ass. The colour of the top had made me think of innocence. Of purity. And there was none of that in this room. I stalked slowly over, fixed all of the years of sexy swagger into my walk. Oozed with a confidence I was nowhere near feeling. Played it cocky for the moment, danger creeping slowly to the surface. “B… fancy seeing you here.”
Every fake smile I offered her felt like a snarl. The truth behind my words. I could see her cowering. Maybe memories still so close of all that I was capable of. I wanted her to remember. To be reminded of what a broken heart did to me. She stood from her seat next to him, making distance that I didn’t see. She was here with him and that was enough. “Faith…” Just a name. Not anything that I had in her. Just a whisper from her lips that I was refusing to hear.
I turned my gaze to him. Found him like I expected, grinning his triumph, calling me out. His tongue flicking to lick at his lips, suggesting without words all that I knew. Where that tongue had been. The things that he had tasted. I stared at him with fire in my eyes, willing my gaze to combust him into dust, to let me have that victory at least? But it didn’t happen. His eyes just chilled me, doused any heat I had to burn.
He rose up beside her. Smirking all evil as he slid closer, went to put a possessive arm around her and speak a greeting. “Faith, nice of you to drop by…” His eyebrows were dancing all over his face, so obviously fucking delirious to have me caught in the loop. Knowing the conquests that he had made.
I would’ve gone. I wanted to. That would’ve been the moment that my barriers would truly have been broken. He was mine in that instant. My stake in my grasp before the clear thought had formed, ready to drop him. To end him.
And she moved. As fast as my arm had risen she had shrugged his touch from her shoulders. Glared at him in a tone I had never even managed with my voice. “Spike, don’t touch me.” She looked to me before speaking the next words. Acknowledging that I knew the truth by not censoring her speech. “I told you, don’t ever touch me again.”
I watched the silent exchange just wishing that I could hear it. His eyes were laughing at her, laughing at me. Hers holding firm. Daring him to question her. It was tense. The whole fucking room was tense. Explosive. I was just waiting for someone to light my fuse. Edging closer to a trigger.
He was growling low in his chest, turning from her to face me. Coming a little closer, me willing him on. Come on… push me… just come fucking push me. It could never be wrong if I was reacting to a push.
“Have you come for a taste Slayer?” The words dripped from his lips, coated in poison. So sexual and so wrong.
He was so fucking evil and he was taunting it out of me. I flew at him, gave him what he wanted, what I thought that he needed. I didn’t need wood, I would rip his fucking head clean from his body, make him fucking scream as he realised who he’d asked to dance, what kind of dance I was gonna be teaching him. There would be no harness for my rage. I believed in that. He tried to block me and I pushed right through him, connected hard with his jaw, wiped that fucking smile from his sick and twisted lips, coated them with blood. It looked right, a true reflection. Made him look like the evil bloodsucking scum that he was. He went to game face. So did I.
I let it all show. Every hurt, every pain. I didn’t care that the sick fucker would probably get off on it. I had to show him, had to let him know the crimes that he was gonna pay for.
He ran his tongue out along the busted lip, sneered as he took in the blood. “You like it rough then love? My favourite kind of game…” I swung and missed, his words deflecting my blow. I knew that he couldn’t touch me. It wouldn’t detract from my pleasure at hitting him. I swung again, caught him again. Feeling distant relief with every blow connected. Every time his flesh gave under my fist. Like retribution.
So much I wanted to hurt him, to punish him, but all he would do was fucking laugh. Smirk his amusement. Rising from each attack ready to take more. Encouraging me with words, glowered invitations. I found the gap to slide my foot between his ribs, enjoyed the crunch. Finally smiling my own as his was wiped from his face. As I heard him grunt, finally admit pain. I kicked him again and made him choke up some blood, revelled in what I was doing, how I was feeling. I believed that that moment was gonna be it. That I could end him then. Nothing would stop me. Nothing could stop me.
And then she did. Of course she did.
“Faith no!”
FUCK OFF!!!
How was it that I could still hear her? I didn’t WANT to still hear her! Didn’t my ears get that? Understand that? I had to do this. I wanted to do this. To fuck consequences and reasons, right and wrong. He had hurt me, he had hurt me so fucking bad, and I just wanted to end it. I ripped my eyes from their prize, their prey. Growled my way to face her and took in her form. She looked so damn small. Her arms limp at her sides, not challenging me, just telling me. Imploring me. “Don’t.”
I didn’t want to listen to her, to be swayed by her. She had hurt me too, and I hadn’t even started addressing that one yet. Dealing with the pain that finding her here was making me feel. I spat my disgust down at her feet. Looked back at the damaged dead thing down at my boots. “Are you scared I’ll hurt your boy toy B? Damage your ride?”
She looked kinda broken but I didn’t care. I WAS broken. By her. Again. She started to shake her head, back and forth as if that meant anything to me. “No Faith… please…”
“Please? Please what?” I let the volume rise, let my words echo with the revulsion I couldn’t help but feel. “Please don’t see you for the sick fucking piece of shit nothing that you are?”
I was screaming at myself as I was screaming it at her. No Faith. Back away from the scene and shut the fuck up. Don’t push it too far, don’t say things now that you’ll live to regret. But I didn’t heed, I didn’t want to heed. All I wanted to do then was to inflict some pain back. Not consider my actions, make attempts at rational.
I was mad.
As she took a tentative step towards me and raised out her hand I thrust into space and pushed her the fuck back. Away from me. Followed her forwards and pushed her again. Baiting her. Calling her. “Didn’t you hear me B?” I felt my tone as it strained on brittle. So close to breaking, so close to too many emotions begging to be set free. I cornered her close to the wall, gave her no way out, no escape from this moment trapped here with me. I watched her pulling back, eyes glazed with tears which I wanted to see fall. For me. For us. I didn’t want to see her offering touches to calm me when I didn’t want to be calm. I wanted to push her away because I couldn’t bear to watch myself crumble before her. I was fucking breaking for god’s sake… her eyes in my eyes again. Her words in my ears.
“Faith… I…”
“NO!” I wouldn’t let her speak. Couldn’t let her speak. Brought my fist down at the side of her face. Crashing into stone. I wanted to bang my head against it. To soothe the pain.
Everything in the room had my head spinning. Her here, him here. All too much.
I felt defeated, watching everything I’d ever wanted taken from me again. Her in the arms of a vamp. An evil dead fucked up vamp. I let the words ring true from my lips, showed nothing in my eyes except that which I allowed there. No room for silent pleadings, begging her to make it stop. To make me stop. “You disgust me Buffy. You fucking disgust me.”
I let the breath out that being so close to her had made me hold. Tried so hard to release the tension. To step back from her, away from her.
“Faith…” Said with pleading. Falling on deaf ears. “…wait, this isn’t… I wasn’t…”
I interrupted her words and spoke my own instead. Flat and empty. “I know what it is Buffy.” Turned my back on her to walk away.
“No!” And the force of it froze me. Her one word wrapped in so much. So much I wanted to avoid. To dismiss.
“No?”
“This isn’t that, I wasn’t here for that.”
I turned back to face her. I could see her eyes begging, slipping out tears. And I wouldn’t feel it. Refused to let it sway me. Instead I let a fucked up smile rest upon my lips, curled it around all of my words. Slipped my body back close to her space. “‘That’ B? You care to elaborate on the ‘that’?”
I watched her breaking. Satisfied. She had no more words to speak and that was fine with me. There wasn’t anything else that I wanted to hear right then. Could bear to hear. I turned away again. Walked away. Noticed the dead fucker with his gaze wrapped around me. So much delight held in his eyes. He didn‘t heed silent warnings of not wanting to hear. He chose to speak. To invite me again. “I call ‘that’ fucking Faith… hot, dirty, nasty fucking…” I recoiled from his words. Felt them rip at my soul. “…and she loved every single minute of it.”
And I felt myself give in. Heard the curses as they flew from my mouth, felt the speed with which I struck him again. Absolute unleashed fury. I would turn his words to dust, wipe the memory on the breeze. All through me it buzzed, landing again and again, me the slayer, he the vampire. The law of nature urging me on. The call of insanity bringing me closer. I was losing myself in every connection. And then she was at me. Her hands seeking purchase on my body, holding back the arm that was straining to plunge my stake straight through the heart of all that was evil.
Her protecting him?
It was all that it felt like. It was no longer her stopping me, holding me back. It was saving him. Making choices.
“Get the fuck off me B!” I was swinging my arm, surprising her with the force. Feeling the connection as I met her resistance. Knowing that I had struck her and then turning to see.
She was back on her haunches. Her hand was at her face, the blood obvious from between her fingers. I was connecting well. Drawing blood from all quarters. I didn’t mean it, hadn’t meant it, but I couldn’t be sorry. She shouldn’t have been protecting him. It was bullshit. I just stared down at her on the floor. Not trying to get up. To fight back. Not looking to trade me blow for blow.
I could see the danger beginning to dance in her own eyes. Accepting blows was never easy. I knew that. Her body was tense, holding her still. Below me. It made me want to taunt her into action, to keep on the path which would bring her the most pain. I wanted to beat her, to submit her. To take with force all those nasty little things that I had always wanted to take. Wanted to taste. The things that he had tasted.
The energy was coursing through me. My breathing harsh and heavy as we got lost in a stand off. Her eyes and my eyes. I could feel my face finding form. My gaze wandering over hers. Top to bottom. Everything I wanted just laying there before me. Her pupils dilating as the air crackled with charge.
So much I wanted to drop to my knees. To search for salvation in her arms. Lose every harsh reality to the reality of touching her skin. Tasting her lips. Kissing it better. And for a moment then I was lost. Free falling. No one to catch me. Nothing but the reflections I was seeing in her eyes. The same wants? The same needs?
Too much. It really was all too much.
I walked away. Tore myself from her as it felt like she had been torn from me. Went to lose myself in distance between us. She whispered my name but it was all too late. The moment had been diffused. Had just left the pain.
I placed each step so precisely. Didn’t spare a glance back to her, back to him. Back out of the door, and into the night. Into the darkness. It had been so close. Felt so close. Touching me, tearing me. Fuel to my fire. But it hadn’t claimed me. I was still standing. Still me. We were all still standing. I walked in a daze. Heading back towards home but never quite making it. Not ready for rest. To give in on the day. To call quits. I had so much shit to work through, needing anger to unleash it all. To let me scream obscenities at every evil fucker that I could rightfully kill. My muscles finding relief in working my arm. Each dead one down, another breath taken.
If all of evil had shown its face tonight I could’ve taken it down and under. Nothing was touching me, coming close to touching me. I was rage, I was pain, I was hurt. And evil collected the payoff. Not in the way that it wanted, not with me crawling back to admit failure at its door… but by staying strong. Slaying each and every fucker that got in my face. That dared show its face.
I worked and I worked intent on my goals. Nothing in mind accept utilising my pain. Sharing my hurt. Kept going till my body was tiring with the force of each fight. Numbers not mattering, I went after them all. Working my way from the bottom up. I dusted the stragglers and then went for the nests. Kamikaze slaying. I was untouchable. And then it began. When I reached the top. The talk of what was coming. Whispers being spoken in threats and in promises.
‘You can slay us, but we will rise… all of the fallen shall rise…’
Over and over again. Even when the joy of losing myself to the rage was being dulled by my need to rest, I carried on. New things taking precedence over my feelings. My pain. This was my job. I was good at my job. I protected people. I wanted to save the world.
I couldn’t lose sight of the threat that was approaching behind the sight of Buffy. I couldn’t screw up again.
I beat on them harder, prolonged their pain until their mouths flowed with words. Words spat out between teeth and blood. Offered as a last plea. ‘They want the witch…’
I fought hard for who? For what? For why? Went through the five torture groups and added some of my own. My body was beyond aching. Almost as worn as the last one standing in front of me. No longer bearing fangs, hardly wearing a face. I twisted my knife deep into his gut. Again. Twisting through old wounds, sliding it deeper. Almost therapeutic. The gargling sounds as the blood flooded his vocal chords. It was almost a shame that he couldn’t drown in it. Die from it.
I asked him again, demanded again, offered him more. “Why the fuck do they want the witch!?”
I would do anything to stop them from getting their hands on Tara. From ever touching her. I lost my hand as I buried the hilt somewhere deep inside of him. Watched his eyes bulge. His mouth open. “They need the witch for the dark magics… to perform the dark magics…” He went to stop, I let my other hand find the remnants of his face, brought it back to me. Urged him on with a squeeze. “…to release it… they need her to release it.”
I pulled my knife back hard, watched him crumple to the ground. I had one word left. “Who?”
The thing plead its ignorance through anything else that I had to offer. In the end gave me nothing to do but release him from his agony. Turn him to dust. I almost collapsed as he drifted away from me, as there was nothing left to keep me standing. To keep me fighting.
I think I sighed some. Maybe cried some. Made myself find the strength to return to her house. Not for her, for duty. To speak of what I knew. To tell them that it wasn’t Tara, it was Willow. All of it was about Willow.
The dawn was breaking as I turned into her road, wearily forcing each foot one in front of the other. Drawing glances from early morning paper boys, probably wondering if Halloween had come early. If this was a costume. I was caked in so much shit that I would have to soak in a bath for hours. Blood and dust. Sweat and tears.
I noted Cordy’s car in the drive. Xander's car still in the drive. For a moment the whole world turned into panic. My stomach dropping even further to the floor, paralysed by the thought that something had happened, that whilst I was away at play the beast had come back. Any knowledge I had garnered too late to help.
I forced myself to go to the door, make myself forget thoughts of Buffy. Loudly pounding, not having to wait for an answer.
“Faith… my god, what happened, where were you? We’ve been worried sick…”
Worried sick? It threw me for a moment. I hadn’t even considered that people would worry when I didn’t go home. I’m a big girl, I stay out sometimes. I followed Willow in. My eyes adjusting to the light of the room, all the anxious glances firmly fixed on me. I scanned them all. Took her in. I didn’t hold her gaze though, just registered the split lip, the slight bruising. Turned my head from hers. I couldn’t look at her. Wouldn’t. I would hold my eyes steady, away from her.
Cordy stepped forwards and gave me one hell of a glare. Gave my eyes no choice but to rest upon her. “Jesus Faith, you could’ve called!”
“Called? Since when?” I hadn’t been making excuses for staying out at night since grade school. Wouldn’t be starting now.
“Since Buffy said you had gone mad and ran off into the night! We were worried, I was worried.” I heard the concern but could only focus on the first part. That part had made me smile. A real fucking sweet smile. Buffy had the audacity to say that I had gone mad? I thought I had done well to reel it in.
“That’s the thing about B though ain’t it Cor?” I paused to let her appreciate my answer. Let them all appreciate it. “She talks a pile of shit.”
If the room was tense before that then I had just added a whole lot more. People clearing their throats as if that could ever cover it. Make it go away. The ex demon chick’s voice rang out clear as day. Practically echoed in the silence. “You did look slightly psychotic when you called by earlier… it’s only fair that if Buffy saw you she would think that you were mad.”
I glared at her. Caused Xander to put his arm around her, as if for protection. It was bullshit! I hadn’t done anything wrong! It had made me thrust my eyes back to Buffy, force myself inside of her gaze. “Did you tell them why I went ‘mad’ B?” She looked fearful, scared. I felt dangerous and angry. “Did ya tell them what sent Faith all whacko this time?”
“Faith? Stop…” Tara’s words floated across the room. Made me breathe and turn to face her. To take in Dawn with eyes wide and staring. The geek boy. All of them. Reminded me that this wasn’t the time, the place. Brought my focus back to why I was here. Not for her. For them. For duty.
I turned my back on the cowardly slayer. Spoke instead to the witch. To both of them. Let my eyes encompass everyone as I spared no details on where I had been all night, what I had been doing. The evil I had killed. The things I had found. I told them of the vampires and their words. About wanting the witch for dark magic, to use her for bringing back the… the ‘whatever’? I didn’t know. I did know they wouldn’t be getting the witches though. Either of them.
They made a good audience. Listening intently, gasps of worry at the points when I spoke of words. Willow and Tara clinging to each other as if for dear life. When I mentioned the magics, that that was what this was all about… getting Willow to fall, to go to the darkside… then the redhead had crumbled. Sank back into the sofa shaking her head. Smacked down by the guilt of the knowledge that her badness was causing the evil. I felt for her, I truly fucking felt for her.
It left the room no longer tense but terrified. Silent because of the worry. The fear.
I waited barely minutes before I made my call to leave. Looking to Cordy with damn near pleading in my eyes. “How about you take me home? If we’re gonna hunt this evil thing down, I’m gonna need to sleep for at least a week first.”
She nodded agreement, rose up to leave with me. It’s when her words came. Buffy’s. “We’ll all meet at the shop later… make a plan, I’ll put that call through to Giles…”
I know she was speaking to me, but there was no way that I could listen or look. I just didn’t want to hear her. Hear excuses. Reasons which wouldn’t take the pain away. I just wanted out of there then. I’d think about later… well, later.
I let Cordy’s voice fill the gaps all the way home. Chatter of all sorts, nothing too close to meaning anything. She kept looking like maybe she was checking to see that I’d really not gone mad, that Buffy WAS talking shit, but I couldn’t be assed to reassure her. I know I looked kinda funky covered in all that crap, my eyes hiding behind the mask which I was keeping firmly fixed in place. But I didn’t care.
I stalked into the apartment, grabbed the phone and headed for my room.
“Faith? Where are you going..? Don’t you want to talk?”
“No.” I slammed shut the door and slipped onto bed. Called forth the dial tone on the handset. I did want to talk, but I wanted to talk to Angel. He believed in me and I trusted him. It was just what I needed. Trust and belief.
POV Tara.
I watch them all as they lark about, chittering and chattering, covering all the worry with banter and jokes, half smiles replacing frowns, merriment replacing terror. I look at it all and I feel the falseness. The lie. See the cracks in the charade and wonder when it’s all gonna come tearing down around us.
Another big bad. Another big nasty. And why can’t apocalypses ever be small and cute? It would make a nice change. A pleasant alternative.
Willow is going crazy with the horror of the truth of this latest in a long line of resident evils. The belief that she has provoked it, that her hand to the dark side was what brought forth whatever it is that we are dealing with. It keeps her eyes bloodshot with the exhaustion of too much to think about. To worry about. Even my touches not seeming to soothe the nervous babble which runs from her mouth each time she opens it. It’s all nonsense. All anything but what she really feels.
Buffy is the same. Kitted out in training gear of white vest and grey pants. Bouncing around the shop on the soles of her feet, this way, that way. Never stopping still. Over zealous laughter at all of Xander’s jokes. I don’t even know which has her more hyped. The thought of the big nasty, or the thought of Faith.
I haven’t a clue what has happened there. What took place in the crypt. All I do know is that Buffy has a split lip and Faith had a face like boiling thunder. I wonder if they..? Rumbled? Is that what they call it? It’s just so far away from everything that we all need right now. We need to pull together. To trust each other. To believe.
Xander isn’t too bad. He keeps the cover of strength much better than the rest of us. Watching over each of his girls. All of us falling under his wings of protection. He stands firm and keeps his gaze wandering the shop, resting on Willow, slight flashes of worry… resting on Buffy, a silly face and a laugh, for Anya he has winks and hugs filled with love. And for Dawn he has encouragement, words which assure her that no more bad stuff is gonna happen, or his name just isn’t Xander Harris!
I wish I could be so sure. I think I believe the opposite, that lots more bad stuff is gonna happen. I can feel it. The expectancy in the air. I think we all feel it.
When I see Xander look to me and catch my eyes in understanding, then I know it for sure. He doesn’t seek to fool me with faces and jokes, he just looks at me and says ‘yeah, I get it… but lets try and fool the girls.’ He says it all with his eyes, all in a look.
And I do go along with it. Let myself get swept up in the pretence of easy. Let myself make assurances to them too. ‘We can do this, we always do this. It will all be ok.’ Smiled along as smiles were given to me, fooled myself in the belief that I couldn’t see the truth, feel the truth. For the moment it is easier than dealing. Acknowledging just how scary this is. When it was about me I was terrified, and now that it’s about Willow? I don’t have the words. It makes me want to hide under my covers, to lock the closet and go back to a time when monsters only existed in there. Not in the real world. Not in my world.
My thoughts are shattered as the front door opens, bringing about the familiar sounds of the tinkling bell. It’s Andrew, back from the store, carrying coffees and cakes and all the things that Xander used to have to carry. He doesn’t mind though, I think he just likes having found a place where he almost fits in. I don’t know how he’ll cope when the bad guys come, he doesn’t seem big with the back bone… but he’ll make it through. As long as he keeps on bringing the cakes then he’ll manage just fine.
“I got all the different donuts but I couldn’t remember how you all wanted the coffee… so I bought lots…” as he speaks the door opens again, Cordy coming through looking harassed balancing cups, and Faith just after. Not looking anything other than… pissed? She has cups too, lots of cups. Also dark glasses, wrapped around her eyes in what I assume is an attempt to wrap up her emotions.
I want to go to her. To give her my arms as way of apology. To hold her close and tell her everything that I know. All of it. That yes Buffy was with Spike… but more than that. My take on the reasons… my knowledge of the truth of what Buffy has been feeling. I know that I won’t go to her though. She looks about as approachable as a speeding freight train and I fear for the safety of anyone that does dare to stand on her tracks.
The tension that descends over the room as she arrives is palpable. You can taste it, feel it. The banter stopping to leave only the room for silence. For eyes turning to see, all looking at the new comers, everyone trying to work out what is going on. What’s happened now?
When Faith had left the house this morning it was the signal for Buffy to go to her room. To stay there as well. She resisted all attempts at talking, at my questions whispered through the door. I worry at her keeping it inside, but then sometimes I feel like I worry at everything. We’ll probably beat down the badness and I’ll still be foiled by a monster sized ulcer. It’s the hazardous side of caring.
Cordy takes charge of handing around the drinks, and the cakes become a free for all. Even the nerves not stopping us from filling up on the sugary goodness. It could be a long night, lots of them. It’s the way that research usually works out. The only one who doesn’t choose to eat is Faith, I watch her cajoled by Cordelia, but she refuses all suggestions. Stays back from all of us. On the periphery, perhaps keeping a safe distance?
In the way that it is easy to see when someone’s gaze is trapped on somebody else, I’m also finding it easy to see the firmness with which Buffy is keeping her gaze so far away from Faith. Her voice still demanding that false chipper tone, all perky and light. Yet her shoulders straining, reaching down for the floor. The split in her lip letting us all know that the smile could never be that real. That painless.
No. She keeps her eyes away and keeps on playing the game. ‘This is what happiness sounds like.’ I want to stop her, to tell her that she doesn’t have to pretend anymore… we can all see. She isn’t fooling us. But again I don’t. I sip on my coffee, I nibble at my cake, and I wait for the bad stuff to begin. The dusty tomes pulled off of shelves, so many words that they all start blurring. The insanity of looking for something which we know nothing about.
The crumbs are cleared away and business is approached. The seating plan so much different than normal. But then this is everything but normal. I slide my way next to Willow, it’s my place. Xander and Anya pairing up, but no one else seeming to know where they fit, what to do. The awkwardness apparent as we wait for Faith to make her move, to assign herself a place. Whether she’ll come back into the fold, or whether whatever has happened with Buffy will keep her firmly at the side.
I’m not the only one that breathes a sigh of relief as she finally takes a seat. Throws herself there as if it pains her to do so. I catch Cordy’s breath too, Dawn’s almost sigh of relief. It does nothing to ease the tension, but it assures us that she is still in the fight. So much more than just another slayer on board. I know she won’t realise it, would probably choke on her laughter if I told her it, but it has been she that has kept us together these last weeks.
Has brought Buffy back to us. Saved Willow. Saved me. Probably saved Dawn too. She’s been our glue girl and she doesn’t even realise it. Too trapped by the negative to ever see how positively we view her.
The flash of pain was so obvious when she returned to us this morning, when she heard concern that we thought she had flipped. Become ‘unstable’ again. Buffy was wrong to lead us that way, and we were wrong for doubting Faith so easily. It wasn’t because we were scared for us though, and that is what she doesn’t see. It was that we were scared for her, that we like her. We don’t want her to fall.
It’s hard to concentrate on the words that Buffy is speaking, the order that she is trying to form, anything she has to say that tells us all nothing. We don’t know what we’re facing, we don’t know why. All we do know is who it wants, not even really what for. It’s all just a question and none of us here have the answer. It provokes talk of Giles, all of us agreeing that we need the help. Desperately need some help.
Of course it is Buffy that makes the call, not worried at difference in time. Just distance, how soon he can be here. She flies through the pleasantries, apologies for waking him, approaches as soon as she can the problems that we face.
“No Giles, we don’t know… all we have is that it wants Willow, and that it needs a portal open.”
Her voice sounded weary as she spoke, the perkiness all but gone as she told all that we know to her former watcher. Her hand moving fast as she tried to keep notes of the things that he told her, names of books to look in… possible names of possible demons that could possibly be wanting to open portals. It was a long list.
We all grabbed onto it as soon as she sat back down. Even Andrew taking a peek as if he would ever know the name of our tormentor. Trying to wrap our tongues around the pronunciation of so many different foes we could maybe be expecting to come up against.
“Is anyone else wondering if this isn’t the most pointless thing we’ve faced since…” Xander had spoken, his face frozen now as he tried to find something mundane enough to make a comparison.
“Since the time we spent fourteen hours memorising the words for that darn urn of Osiris spell?” Anya’s eyes were sincere with the memory of that endless night. Willow standing guard as we went over and over the spell, learning our parts, not daring to take a break and admit defeat. “Because that had a similar sense of pointlessness I think… definitely as tiresome.”
I wanted to agree but dared not. Willow tensing at my side was enough to let me know that she certainly saw things differently. “Sorry Anya, but to me it seemed most pointful, like saving a friend's life.”
“Yes, but technically she was in heaven… that deems it pointless in retrospect, doesn’t it Xander?” She was beaming with the pride in her logic, waiting for the pat on the head and agreement from her love. He could only shake his head though, cast his eyes between the two, trying to work out where he stood the best chance of survival.
Buffy saved him. “I’m gonna go with Wills, it WAS pointful... huge with the plus points, great to be back…” She sought out Willow’s eyes and offered sincerity. Slid straight back into business mode. “…now can we move on? I know it’s dull, I appreciate the boringness… but it’s what we do. Now lets do it.”
The false chipper was back there and it brought about a group sigh, a shared weariness. Also hands which reached for books, and eyes that searched for answers. That didn’t stop searching for answers even as our progress remained at a stand still. Silence looming except for the odd comparison of random facts, which demons ate a solid diet of viscera, compared to those which favoured the sucking of the bone marrow.
Not surprisingly it was Anya who filled in most of the blanks, could shed most light on the habits of even the most obscene species of demon. Unfortunately she couldn’t throw light on what we needed. Her own searches into the links she hadn’t severed proving no help to any of us. It seemed that Hallie had disappeared and no one else was daring to speak of anything that they might know. Xander’s threatening form doing nothing to intimidate. So far the only information we had, had come from Faith’s super slaying of last night. Whatever happenned in the crypt sending her off on a one woman mission of destruction. Vampires being the ones that had offered up the only words we knew.
And I wasn’t the only one having that thought. Considering the vampires. Maybe I would’ve asked the question myself if I hadn’t had been suspecting the consequences. Hadn’t understood the unspoken tension which sat between the slayers. Dawn was innocent of it all, was the one to voice the obvious.
“Hey, if it was the vamps that Faith beat the answers out of, then why don’t we get Spike? Surely he can help out?”
Her words seemed to hang in the air for an age until they fell to the floor heavy with the weight. Buffy swinging to face Faith, the shock of the simple question plain to see in her eyes. What was in Faith’s eyes was anyone’s guess, the darkened void she had on show being all that she would allow us to see. Her words spoke volumes though. Pronounced with enough venom to send Buffy back in her chair. Recoiling from all of the pain that she had caused.
“If that fucker comes here then I’m gone.” Words pointed in one direction. Aimed one way. “I see him? I’ll kill him, and then I’m gone.”
I didn’t doubt her for a second. I don’t think any of us did. It brought confusion. No understanding. Xander trying to slice the tension with his easy ways. Smiling face. “Hey, slow down there slay girl, the dead guy's a jerk, I get that… he helps out though, doesn’t mean we like him, but he gets a free pass.”
The glasses didn’t cover her sneer. Her hatred of the secret facts. “Yeah? A free pass?” She almost growled it, her attention drawn back to Buffy. She was inching forwards in her chair, shoulders straining as she leant across the table, only Cordy’s arm seeming able to hold her back. You could see her jump with surprise as she felt the touch, swinging her head back to her friend, exhaling a sigh of frustration. “Fuck it, this is bullshit…”
Her chair slammed against the floor with the force of her rising, the table shaking as she pushed her way back. I thought that all of our attention was drawn there, waiting to see, straining to see. I almost missed the slightly yelped “Oh!” at my side, couldn’t miss Willow’s hand as it clenched around my thigh. My eyes flying to hers, seeing the realisation. Her mouth slowly opening, barely whispering. “A free pass?” And then the pools of green encasing Buffy, looking for confirmation, for a rebuttal, for anything but the truth of what she was seeing. “Buffy..?”
But Buffy wasn’t hearing. Her own eyes locked so solidly on the form of the fleeing slayer. Her mouth set in a firm grimace, finally opening to whisper a plea. “Wait…” I turned to see the non response, the feet still walking, ears not hearing. It made the volume rise some, forced her to listen. “…Faith, I said wait… please?”
So achingly raw. You would have to be dead to disregard the depth of feeling between the two of them. Even now the air is coated in it. The pain. Absolute naked pain.
The table remained quiet. Willow’s fingers still gripping onto me, no one’s eyes knowing where to go, what to do, where to focus to find the sense. It took an eternity for her to turn back to us. Silent minutes spent with her own demons, perhaps fighting the desire to flee, to leave all the hurt behind. And the words when they came were not so much wrapped in rage anymore, just desolation. As if she too just wanted to understand. To ask why the hell this was all happening. “What am I waiting for B?” Her breath exhaled in a sigh to the heavens. “Just tell me what the hell I’m supposed to be waiting for?”
“The truth.”
It span me around again. The truth? Here? Now? I stared my puzzlement at her, watched as she ignored it, kept all that she had, pointed at Faith.
And as HER mouth mimicked Buffy’s. Silence kept, but the words easy to see as they crossed her lips. ‘The truth?’ it was like it drew her back, slowly but surely, as if she had to hear it no matter how much it hurt. Like she needed to hear it.
No one was daring to move, all caught up in the spell of the moment. Following the scenes as if watching a play. A tragedy in motion. Their eyes all falling on the once great leader as she took up her place to speak, her voice not strong with leadership now, instead meek in the face of her secrets. Her hands were wringing in front of her body, all of it so obviously difficult to do. I sought out her eyes, gave all that I could, a small smile, a promise to be there when she needed me. She closed her eyes for a second, took a deep breath and forced it out.
“Guys… right, the truth…”
I still couldn’t believe that she was doing this, that she should do this. I wondered at how she would phrase it, how she could ever coat it in anything to make it better. She didn’t try. I guess she knew.
“…I’ve been…” She let out a sigh, so tense with having to speak. “…oh god…” The pain slid across her face. The disgust and the shame. “…I’ve been sleeping with Spike.”
And what is more quiet than silence? Because the room was so much more than simple silence. It was the kind of quiet that lets everything be heard, reactions able to be seen so soon before they are spoken, before they are shouted. Hurled across the room in indignation and accusation.
“You what? With Spike?” Xander’s eyes looked as if they wanted to fall from his head, to bulge from his skull and hide from the truth.
“Sleeping… she said sleeping, I think she means that she’s been screwing Spike.” Anya appeared joyful at setting him straight, her face taking a moment to catch up on her words. And then even she managed shock. Distaste. “You!? And the vampire?” And then her head was shaking, as bemused as all of us.
“Dawnie?” Buffy had taken her gaze back to her sister. Had seen the tears which were plainly running down her face. Could now see the anger of youth that was finding a place there.
“No Buffy… I thought I was wrong… I thought I did something so bad to make you hate being back.” She wiped her arm viciously across her eyes, banishing tears. “But it wasn’t me… it was YOU! You’re wrong!”
Dawn may have banished her tears but Buffy was letting hers flow. No attempt to hide them, there was nothing left to hide anymore. The truth was out for better or for worse. Her friends knew now. All she could do was await their judgement. I looked up as Willow’s hand went from my leg, waited to see what she would say. She glanced first at Faith, still standing away, offered an understanding gaze. And then the eyes trained on Buffy. Her best friend. She voiced the question for everyone. For all of us. “Why… I just don’t get… with the why?”
It brought more emptiness. More minutes stretching by unfilled. All of us watching, witnessing as she strained to keep it together, to find form for words that she didn’t want to speak. Barely understood for herself. “I can’t… it was…” She looked again to me, and I nodded softly in response. She could do this. “…I didn’t want to do it…”
Faith’s harsh laughter of reproach rang through the room. “Didn’t want to B?… And there was me thinking that the dead fucker couldn’t touch you unless you wanted him to?” She stalked her way closer to the group, my skin raising as the electricity crept along it. The charge. “I thought he was chipped and neutered… I guess I was wrong.”
“No, he is… chipped. It’s me…” She was staring her down. Only speaking to the one now, we could still all hear, but the words were only meant for Faith. “…I came back… wrong? Different… I don’t know what, why… he just…” Her arms crept around her sides as if to comfort herself. Draw strength from herself. “…he can hurt me.”
Willow jumped on the bandwagon before I could stop her. “He can hurt you and you didn’t tell us?! You kept that from us?” Her tone was drenched in confusion, her eyes darting to all of us, looking for anyone to fill the blanks, right the wrongs. “This is all wrong Buffy, I know things have been tough… but this? This is wrong.”
She didn’t need to tell her. Inside I was dying to go to her, to encase her in my hold and beat back the troops. Her eyes were stained with the pain, and no one was seeing it, not one of them daring to look beyond their own shock and disgust to see how much Buffy had for herself. She had the most. Had been living with it for months.
“I’m sorry Wills, all of you…” Her gaze flitted through each of us, searching for any sign of acknowledgement. Not going so far as to reach Faith, perhaps knowing she would get nothing she needed from there. “…I lied to you all and I’m sorry, I can’t… I wish I could tell you why I did it… the things which made me do it…I know it won’t change anything. What I did? Sleeping with Spike… I’m sorry. I’m sorry I did it, and I’m sorry I lied.”
“Rousing speech B, you expecting applause?” The tone of her voice broke the solitude of the moment. Her words demanding that Buffy give some attention her way. The slow hand clap mocking all that she said.
“Faith…”
“Save it, don’t wanna hear it.” She dismissed it with a turn of her head. Focused the reflection of her glasses back on the group. Did something I didn’t expect, would never expect. She took charge, dismissed the tension of the emotions and refocused direction. “Anyone else ready to quit the caring sharing session and get on with the important stuff?” At first no one answered. Not sure in the change. If they were ready to move on, had finished with the crucifixion. It urged her to speak more. “Oh for fucks sake guys, so B’s got an undead itch? Nothing new there…” She walked around the table and came next to Dawn. Ruffled the hair on her head and showed her a small smile. “…now I’m more interested in the apocalyptic shit, the crap that actually means anything.”
I didn’t know why she was doing it, how she was doing it. If she was protecting Buffy or waiting for her own moment to attack. Whatever the reason was, her tone made it okay to back off. For Buffy to sit back in her chair and look shell shocked and lost. The rest of us grasping again for books, for the closest thing to normality. I knew this wasn’t over. There was going to be huge ramifications with all that Buffy had said. As pieces are fixed together. As they realise that all the time she spent away from us was time spent with him. Sleeping with him. I had to admire her honesty, but I certainly didn’t envy her.
No one looked to her. Not castrating her from the group, she is still the slayer, but warmth wasn’t being offered. Facts were being spoken in monotone… ideas bantered without the jest. No one wanting to say anything that could push the moment somewhere harsh. It eventually drove her from us. Leaving the circle of research to flee for the training room. A croaked whisper of her intention, but nothing in return. I tried to smile, to assure… but it didn’t go in. Her eyes were showing the steel of the weeks gone by, everything being locked away to keep from hurting too much. From feeling too much.
I let my eyes fall to Faith, never knowing where her own eyes were, what they were seeing. I wanted to urge her on to go to her, to start finding the place where they could begin to make it better. To repair all the damage done, from forever and now. I couldn’t though, I didn’t even know if that place existed anymore.
I lost the thoughts in books, the dusty tomes losing dust but still not giving up answers. Watching as the troops began to fall. Andrew leaving not long after Buffy. Dawn’s yawns provoking Xander to call time. To take the girl home with him and Anya. Assuring that he would take care of her. Finding hugs for Willow. A moments word with Cordy. Me and then Faith. He looked uncertain what to say to her, what words made sense. In the end they were perfect. What she needed to hear. “Faith, about the free pass?”
Her attention was drawn, her stance tense as she waited.
“Forget it, kill him… maybe then we can all applaud.”
She didn’t speak, just nodded her head. Kept in the words she wanted to say.
It left just the four of us up on top deck. Three of us again burying ourselves in a need to find answers. Faith losing herself in whatever places her mind was taking her to. I watched her often, distraction from the endless demons and random facts. No matter how hard she was trying her gaze kept betraying the truth. Her truth. She was still being drawn there, to the place that Buffy was. Cracking her knuckles, tapping her feet. No stillness about her.
For more than hour I waited to see which way it would go. Whether she’d give in, whether she would hold firm. I couldn’t tear my eyes away in the seconds proceeding the moment that I would get my answer. I swear her body was almost humming with the energy. And then pulling herself up, not even glancing at us, no words in explanation needed. Just her back as we watched it go to the door, our gazes all drawn and then falling on each other.
“That could be dangerous.” Cordy stated the obvious.
“You think we should go down there..?”
“No.” I hoped it was the right choice, the correct way to go. “It’ll be okay… just leave them to it.” I watched their uncertain glances, tried again. “If we hear anything loud or scary we’ll go… but until then lets just let them get on with it. Give them a chance?”
They sighed agreement. Books still being held but no more desire to read them. We sat in tense silence and we waited. Ears strained, just waiting for the call. I prayed we wouldn’t have to move. That somewhere in there they could start to find that place.
Andrew walked solemnly on his path to the basement. Head hung low, no sign of fight anywhere in him. He had no clue. No idea of how the forces of good and evil were right at that moment fighting for his very soul. His conscience bearing the words of good… imploring that he turn from the road. Go back to the place that he had just left and tell them everything that he knew. To work on the right side. The light side.
His survival instinct though was bringing the promise of the darkness. The fear snaking tightly across his chest, strangling his breaths, making him hyperventilate with the knowledge of all that Warren could do to him. What the ‘thing’ could do to him. The tales were burned into his ears, the screaming terrorising him at night, so as he knew not a minutes rest.
Warren had allowed him a glimpse into the future, the happenings that would come to pass once the portal was opened. How it would burst forth. Would feed upon every solid ounce of evil present in the world. Every bad deed, every bad thought. Sucked up and used, turned into power. He had trembled as Warren had held him steady in his vision, kept his eyes trained on the sights of death, of pain, of destruction. The insanity as people’s souls were sucked from their form, burning from the inside out, nothing left but shells. Shells for demons. All of the ones that had fallen, been sucked into the abyss, given a chance to return. To reinhabit that which had been lost.
A world for evil. For evil and for Warren.
Andrew had seen it all, had heard it all. It gave power to the words of the darkness, forced his conscience into a silent whisper. Nothing heard. Nothing listened to. It made him quicken his pace now, to drop his head and make his way the only way he knew. The place he had to go.
He gave the firm solid knock when he arrived that Warren commanded. He couldn’t stand weakness, timidity. His men were warriors. He demanded it. Andrew tried his best to straighten his shoulders as the door drew back, to meet Johnathan’s eyes steadily, not betraying any thought other than those which were allowed.
“He’s waiting for you.”
No hello, no friendly greeting. No room for pleasant anymore. Both of them had learnt not to believe in pleasant. He kept his eyes fixed as he went to his leader. Not letting them flick to the left. To witness the form of the demon falling limp in her binds. No spirit left to argue, to demand release. To demand anything.
Andrew had seen what Warren had done to her. Another thing that he had commanded. Both of the minions forced to watch as he took the ultimate evil delight in degrading her to the full. Her unable to fight him off, unable to stop him, and finally unable to protest. He had watched and held back the tears. Warriors didn’t cry. They watched and they remembered, and they learnt to do everything that they were told. They learnt fear.
“Andrew, you return.”
He didn’t speak, he didn’t need to. Warren would tell him when to speak. He just lowered his form, made himself less. Awaited his time.
“We wondered how long you would be… whether you would come back at all, Johnathan even wondered that you might not be thinking about jumping ship…”
He started to tremble lightly. Prayed that his eyes would stay steady. That his weakness wasn’t on show.
“…but I assured him no, that even you weren’t that stupid, or that ready to die.” Warren smiled his sickly smile. What used to be a smile of camaraderie, of friendship, now nothing more than a see through mask. It did nothing to coat the evil inside, if anything it intensified it. Made him appear more wicked, more depraved. “So how was your day? Full of juice and cookies?”
Andrew knew that he was mocking him. Making fun of the nice things he had said about there, the way that they treated him. He wanted to nod his head, wanted to say yes, lots of juice, lots of cookies… but he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. His gaze flicked quickly to the left, to the demon. Resigned his tone. “No… not juice, I… I found the weakness.”
It made Warren stand to attention, made him swing his eyes to encompass Johnathan. “You found a weakness?!” The excitement tried hard to drown out the sound of insanity but it came nowhere close. The manic eyes lighting with approval, his gaze jumping between his minions as he fought hard to keep the delight from flooring him where he stood. He started pacing, rambling nonsense. Placating a master that neither of the other boys could see.
When his command returned to Andrew he had snuck back to calm, still eager but restrained, as if the minutes with the voices had refocused his thoughts. “Tell me, tell me it all.”
The boy wondered where to start, how to begin to explain that which he had only understood glances of… the tension, the hurt. “It’s the slayers… I think they’re… kinda into each other.”
“Into each other?”
“Like… liking each other, in ‘that’ way.”
For a moment it was like a hush descended, not evil hush, just the silence as their minds went to places that the thought of ‘that’ way could produce. Just horny boys. But then just as fast, back to an evil smirk. A degrading grin. “Well isn’t that just beautiful! Although…” Warren turned his eyes back on Andrew, sought more. “…weakness? How?”
“It’s Buffy… she’s been…” He paused, the last moment of uncertainty. The moment before he turned traitor. “…she’s been sleeping with Spike.” And then said, the deed done, the weakness revealed.
“Spike? Vampire Spike?” Warren was having as hard a time as anyone believing the words. The absurdity. “Buffybot banging Spike?”
“I know, everyone’s having a really hard time dealing…”
But Warren was lost to them. Engaged in his own thoughts. His own memories. Of chips that went beep and stopped evil being done. His mouth curving as it tasted the possibilities, finding a full on smile as he realised the true beauty. The availability of a brand new secret weapon. His gaze turned to the demon chained to the wall. No thought given to the things that he had put her through, the pleasure he had taken there. All that he had for her was disgust, disapproval of the weakness he had found in her. He couldn’t stand weakness, wouldn’t stand for it.
“So the slayers are into each other, but Buffy has been screwing the vampire?” He watched and laughed as Andrew nodded. “I think I need to see the vampire.”
“You… you need to see Spike?”
“I do, it seems we could be friends. For a while.”
Andrew tried to make his mind follow the same path. To understand that which he had unleashed. He had thought that Warren would exploit the slayers, maybe try to lure Faith into evil… he had heard of her past. He knew the implications. That she could maybe be turned. But Spike? “I don’t understand… why Spike?”
“He knows the slayer, he sleeps with the slayer, he has access to her friends… to the witches. If I take away the pesky chip for him, then he owes me, can deliver what we need. What I need. And if I tempt him with the power to be rid of the other one..? His competition..?”
And then it all made sense. The way that Spike could be used. Andrew had seen how trusting Tara was, how keen she was to help, to be there… he understood how easily Spike could exploit that. He wanted to take it back, to unsay words. In that moment he saw again the vision of all that Warren had shown him, felt the fear, the dread. Trembled down to his bones. His eyes met his leader’s, and for a second he couldn’t hide it, it all shone too bright.
“Johnathan?” The voice of evil was low, but intent. His gaze not moving from Andrew.
“Yes master?”
“Bind him.”
“Bind him? Andrew?”
“Yes Andrew…” His eyes narrowed on their prey. “…I see some regret, I wouldn’t want him making any life ending decisions.” He stroked the boy's face, offered a gentle touch. “This is for your own good Andrew.” He turned slowly away from him, tossing words over his shoulder. “And Johnathan? Make sure it’s tight.”
“Master… what? Where are you going?”
“Where am I going?” Warren laughed the evil laugh that he had so long practiced to perfection “I’m going to make friends with the vampire.”
The sound of the laughter echoed its way through the room long after their leader had left, kept Johnathan intent on his task even as it pained him to perform it. To bind his friend. His comrade. Once they had planned to rule the world together. Now he suspected that all they would ever get to do was to die together. He executed the simple spell to create the ties which would hold his friend firmly in place. Silenced his words to save his own ears the pain, to protect his mind from his conscience. Nothing to make him waver from the path. He refused to see Andrew’s tears. Wouldn’t look. Because all the time that he looked at him, then he could see the horror again, hear the screams. The vision of all that was to come.
Andrew didn’t try to hold back his tears anymore. There was no point. He wasn’t a warrior, he was a failure. He had had his chance on the path and he had walked the wrong way. Chosen the wrong destination. All that he could do now was to watch and to wait. Aware of what was coming, and now seemingly powerless to stop it. Not a champion, not a hero. Just a boy. A boy who felt like he was going to die.
I came down here to get away, to escape from the looks and the sounds of disgust, to hide from the hurt and the pain. All of them gifts that I have given. Death may have been my first gift, but it turns out that I had so much more to offer, slipping right back into the spirit of giving. Not a thing to impart though aside from the bad stuff. I just can’t stop myself. It seems like since I have been back it’s all that I have done, all that I can do. And I tried different, I swear I did. I tried to make the smiles true and the feelings mean something, mean anything… to even touch the sides, but everything I have done? All the things I have tried? It’s all turned to crap.
This isn’t self pity, I don’t pity myself. I have too much pity for those that I have let down to care for myself. I care about the ones that I was supposed to be there for. Strong Buffy, slayer Buffy. Always there to save the day. Only I forgot about days, about nights. I forgot about everything that mattered, everything that meant anything to me.
It all got lost, left in the ground. My gravestone the reminder of where it all lay.
I went back there so many times at first. With my friends, and then on my own. Secret visits to try and claim back that what was mine. Not life, Willow had taken care of that one for me. But love. I just wanted to feel my heart beat. To look into eyes that were imploring me to feel for them, and have something more to offer them, other than an empty shell. Not rotten to the core, just nothing at the core. A numbness which consumed me like nothing before. I wanted to fight it, to conquer it, but I had no fight left in me. I had fought my last battle. I had won for gods sake. And nothing I tried, nothing I did, none of it could make being back stop feeling like anything other than losing.
So I gave up.
It’s one reason to hate myself. Of all of the things that I have done, that has to rank up there with the best. Me. I gave up. I looked at it all, I felt the pain of it all… and I pushed it away. I didn’t go on to fight the good fight, I didn’t tell those that mattered all that I wasn’t feeling. I just let it slip away. Watched it all from a distance without even a tear in my eye. Not even enough left to feel regret. I couldn’t feel life, so I wouldn’t live life. I would function. ‘Work, rest, and slay’. It would be my motto, the thing to get me through the nights I couldn’t sleep for fear of waking, the countdown of the seconds until I would find peace again. I knew it would come for me… it had called for me twice already, and they say that the third time’s a charm.
It charmed me. It had so much to offer. The kind of peace I had only ever found in my mother's arms. Arms that were always safe, always there to protect me, the arms where I could just be a girl. Always just Buffy. And that is what heaven felt like. To me it was the closest place to home.
When I think back now, pre the second death, I can pin point the beginning of the numbness. The beginning of the end. Finding mom had dulled my heartbeat like nothing before. More than Angel, more than losing the love of my life. I lost my mother. My mommy. My tether to a reality that I longed to cling on to. The white picket fences from my youth, the things that I was giving up on in my future.
That was the first minute I really learnt to be numb. Not a second to grieve, no time to feel. Just on with the next thing, the big bad. Holding together a sister, a family. A whole world. Sacrificing my self long before I swan dived from the tower. By that point it was almost easy, the white light of the abyss so warm in its enticement. As I was telling Dawn to live, I was welcoming my time to die. To make this round my last round. Buffy Summers; Rest In Peace.
And now being back here? It feels like I lost her all over again. Ripped from the comfort of her embrace to instead embrace a world I had long left behind. Had forgotten the harshness of every minute. The hurt, the tears, the pain, the suffering, the endlessness. God, the loneliness. I forgot how alone I had always felt.
The oneness of being me.
It tore back into me in flashes, strobe lights assaulting my senses, too much, everywhere, my eyes seeing too much, my arms, my legs, hearing… god, the sounds. All so loud, my head throbbing with an intensity that slayer powers only sought to enhance. The violence encasing my skin, my reality returned. I was death, and I was dead. They could hug me and hold me all that they wanted to, but none of them could touch me. Words of welcome back sounded no more than a sick joke. And I couldn’t laugh with them. Couldn’t cry with them. Their arms around my neck just one more weight pulling me down. Ensnaring me in a place that I couldn’t bear to be.
I knew that they could see it, I tried to hide behind some walls of defence, to fake the things that I couldn’t feel, but I could never keep my eyes on them. Could never let the smiles reach up there. I saw the worried glances, heard whispers of concern behind the doors of my friends… so I tried more to cover it. To stay away, to fill the voids with distance, to cut down the time I had to keep up the charade.
I wish I could replace slayer sight with hindsight. Could go back and beg for different. Could stop my feet from so solidly stomping down this path which has brought us to the now. The path to Spike’s door.
I never saw it coming. The force and brutality with which it would hit me. Something so bad that it could never be numb. The vacuum growing inside of me had sucked up his words, given a home to the darkness… and I was like him now. I started to believe in it. I couldn’t be human, I couldn’t be me… because I wasn’t. I didn’t feel like me. I felt like nothing. Like him.
Each time that I went to him, I swore it would be the last. Not even having the energy to pretend that I believed in it. His mocking eyes always showing that he had the same beliefs. His words telling me that I had nowhere else to go, lips smiling as mine showed the truth. There was nowhere else.
I had turned my back on everything else. Had given up on them. I had let myself lose it all in disgust, in degradation, hatred for this that I had become. It became a circle, a spiral ever downwards. Every time I walked away I promised myself I would learn to be strong, that it wasn’t too late… I was Buffy, I could do this. And for a day, maybe two… I would force perky again. I would cut Dawn’s sandwiches and drive her to school, I would wave at Willow as she left for college, pretend to feel concern for her and Tara, try and lose myself in the sounds of a deep fat fryer. Then the emptiness would come back. The knowledge of all I was doing so stark in contrast to all that I had ever wanted to be. And that hate, and that disgust, it would slam back into me with a force a million times stronger than a thousand Glory hell bitches. Would send me running to the only place that I could let it out. Could punish myself with the pain that he offered. A sick little spiral of depravation. That is where that path lead me. Around and around. Just circling death.
When he was inside of me, ripping at me, tearing at me… in those moments I knew that he had death planned for me. Somewhere inside of him. Maybe he saw me as a replacement Drusilla. Soulless mates. I couldn’t care. Any end to this non existence would feel like a happy ending. I was so sure of it.
And then Dawn. Could there have been a louder wake up call? An echo in the darkness, a final scream in my ear of all that I stood to lose. It didn’t shock me back to life, but it made me want to sneak a distance away from death. To creep away from the door marked ‘imminent disaster’. Looking at my sister, my baby sister, so small on the harsh white sheets of a hospital bed. Throat raw from the tube in her stomach. When I looked at her, the guilt hit me harder than I could have ever prepared myself for. I did this to her. And I knew it.
And I hated myself more. All of the good feelings left in the ground were replaced by the bad ones. Some extra bad ones just in case. I wanted to hold Dawn and soothe her and to make it all better. But I didn’t, I couldn’t. I got angry. The disgust for myself building my rage towards the others. Dawn could do this after all I had done for her? My friends could question me after all I had done for them?
If Dawn was allowed to seek death then I would too! Spike could have the ‘all you could eat Buffy’ he had always longed for, and I would have my happy ending. My third times the charm.
I stop punching. Instead rest my head against the bearer of my burdens, the bag now hanging limply without the force of impact. I look back now at how close I came to accepting that invitation and I wish that the damn bag could punch me straight back. Slap me upside of the head and proclaim my stupidity to the world. This tension in my shoulders isn’t even threatening to shift. So many blows left to fall, so much more of my story left to tell. To watch on a loop and wonder at a pause button. A moment I could choose to tell the story different, to make a real happy ending.
I look to the door, to the room outside, and I know more than anything what the happy ending should have been, where it should have started. The moment for stopping.
Faith.
A word that just begs to inspire hope and belief, but in the second that my eyes had rested on her again, it had only brought back the reminder of more pain. So much hate inside of me, that it was easy to point it at her. So what that the time was past, that so much had changed… so what that she was here to help? The rage that I was dying to inflict upon myself had settled upon a new target. A self-preservation moment.
The energy that I felt as I leapt across the counter, that was energy that I hadn’t felt in a long time. Fizzing right through me, awakening parts of me that had long ceased to exist. The monotonous beep of my flatline existence exploding as a roar in my ears that drowned out the sounds of my fist hitting her face. It was all so real. All so me and Faith. All so every moment. And the hum that was only increasing with every second that she was in my space, was drowning out all of the sad songs I had ever learnt the words to. The rhythm of her walk, the pattern of her speech… they were like crumbs on the path back to salvation. And I wanted to consume them all. To hit her with all of it. Unleash the full force of it.
For the first time since being back, I almost wanted to share it. To share me, to let someone inside to witness the voids, to fill the emptiness. As her fingers slipped against mine I had been jolted by the force. Not the force from her, but from me. The sudden steady beating of my heart, the moment it had started to thump again.
It was all that I had longed for, and yet the reality of it sent the blood racing through my veins with a chill even colder than Spike. This was Faith! Not hope or belief, and I just couldn’t understand the god damn tricks that my body was playing on me. So I forced the walls to stay firm in my eyes, to slap her back with the coldness of my gaze.
I can remember all of that night so clearly. The daze that I had faced the rest of the hours with. Home to my bed. To find tears for the first time and the comfort within them. Not cold comfort, but something close to feeling. Feeling like me, like Buffy.
The morning after when I looked in the mirror, I had the clearest view of all that I had become. Saw myself through the eyes of another. It called forth the scornful look on my face, the bitter taste in my mouth. Made me open the door on her with all of this on show… and yet still she wouldn’t budge. Here for Dawn, to pick up the pieces that I had let shatter. In her eyes I imagined all of the things that the mirror had shown me, provoked myself to remember the things which had made me despise her. I wouldn’t let her look at me like nothing, because I was better than her… remember? How it used to be? When things were right. When I was right.
The words which formed in my hate centred mind though, they were not the ones which fell from my mouth without warning. I don’t know where they came from. Those walls falling again as if just her presence held the power to calm me. As if she looked through the darkness and could still see me. See Buffy. In here and screaming to get out. The place where all of the feelings had been hiding, the place where I still lay grieving.
Standing next to her had made me remember. Her warmth provoking the warm feel of safety. And it made me kinda wonder right then and there if I hadn’t just overstepped the bounds to insanity?
As her feet moved her closer, mine sprang me backwards. A deer caught in the headlights. Not wanting her to see me. Didn’t want her to shine those lights too close and catch a glimpse of all that was inside. My sickening secret. The truth of who I was now. Not better than her, not better than anyone.
Stay away from me Faith.
I look to the door again and I wish that those words had never been mentioned. With every punch that I land, I silently beg for her to come and find me. To never ever stay away from me.
The fervour of my blows increases as I feel again the horror of when both of their eyes had first rested upon me. Looking for Dawn and stumbling so close to my truth. His eyes sliding inside of me in unwanted penetration and hers standing by to bear witness. Not understanding what she was seeing. Just how evil, evil can be. I saw her wanting to protect me, the vibe left over of our matching footsteps enough to have her already accepting that we were partners. Still card carrying members of a double act where both of our backs would always be covered. And all I offered her in return was my real back. Had made my footsteps bear rhythm with his in a blatant disregard for everything I was beginning to feel. Really feel.
Still letting the disgust keep a hold, Spike holding the key to my prison of hate. The last time I had been with him, it had been shrouded in a passion that seeing Faith had urged me to feel. He recognised the difference, sneered at the light he was seeing through the cracks. Reminded me of all that I wasn’t, assured me I was still his, would be his as long as he demanded. He knew my secret too, he was my secret. Not ashamed to use it to remind me of where I would continue to go. To him.
I had almost cried tears of joy when Faith had thrown him from the house. Then I remembered my place and found confrontation. And then I really did cry. How could her words sound so good? How could the promise in them seem so real?
Everyone else was believing. Dawn, Tara, Willow. Was I wrong to start to believe in it too? To let the walls slip again and invite her in. A little look around, survey the damages. Pray that maybe she had a quote for repairs.
Agreeing to less hostility? It was so much easier than she thought. Her eyes hanging on me, her breath holding for an answer. And god… she still has those eyebrows that emphasise finding the fun! I had forgotten that fun existed. But in that second, with that look, I remembered. I may have smiled. I may have meant it. It may have even stayed sat on my lips as I stayed sat on the sofa, awaited her return. The creeping on the stairs, whose almost silent noises I know so well, letting me know that she was near. I could draw a plan of those steps and illustrate each little spot which creaks, the best places to sneak past a sleeping mother. To not wake a house of sleeping friends.
I held my breath to slow the steady thump thump thump in my chest. Forced myself to relax as she plucked the remote from my hand. The little chuckle that she produced almost making me give up the game. Admit I was there, and coming round fast. I didn’t want to spoil it though. I couldn’t bear to open my eyes on her and see the things that she felt. The way that she believed in me. Knowing all that I have done, I just couldn’t let her look at me in that way.
I heard rather than saw as she placed her fingers to her lips, the soft sound of her kiss and then the soft feel of fingertips against my head. Soothing my brow, offering me something I had long given up on. Sweet dreams. It had sounded like a promise.
But I just couldn’t do the smart thing and accept it then and there. I was still too busy burying my head inside of my small, yet accommodating, ass and denying that the truth of my situation could indeed be found in Faith. In hope and belief. Instead I searched out again the opposite, all of Spike’s nasty truths which were tearing at my soul. My reality in his arms, my sickness in his touch.
I remember the night that I came so close to just laying down. Running as far away from the confusion as I possibly could get. Was I disgusting and wrong, fit for nothing but darkness? Or was I who I saw when she looked at me? Could I still be Buffy.
And I could. I was. I am?
I pushed him away from me, no explanations. Tore myself from his crypt and looked for the crumbs to follow on the path. I didn’t expect her to actually be there. So close to me after I had been so close to him. Would she smell him on me? Sense him on me? I wanted to push her away so that she would never have to see. But she wouldn’t be pushed. Stood firm again, offered her hand out again. And I clung for dear life. In that moment I clung to life. To her.
I let my smile grow as the footsteps marched us back to my house, my home. My mouth finding the way to fall back into banter, my ears to hear the sound of my laugh. I didn’t plan to invite her to the house of horrors for my birthday, it just seemed right. Amongst all of the bad stuff, all of the pain, it felt like the most right thing to do. Not for another slayer, but just… I guess just for her.
I look up at the clock as my arms slip to heavy. They feel like dead weight and that’s a concept which I fully understand. The minutes are ticking by, the sky growing darker. Everything is fading. I can’t punch anymore. Push any harder. Let my limbs crash down onto the softness of a training mat.
Everything had spun with the softness of her lips. Had crashed in so many different ways. Did I feel this?… Was she mad? It was all I could feel, all I had ever felt. The reason that my heart had started beating again. When her nose had grazed mine with such innocent feeling, I could do nothing but reply to her in kind. Prove just how deep it was all running, how deep she was touching me.
And then came the crash of the world. I hate that crash. I’m gonna manufacture earplugs that drown out the sounds, blindfolds that hide it from sight. If forever could have been hidden between her lips, then I would of happily have stayed in that moment for all of it. Instead her warmth brought back the taste of the cold, memories of where my lips had lied, places that bore them unworthy to ever taste kisses with her.
It wasn’t about saving myself anymore, it became about saving her. Not hurting her anymore, causing her more pain, extras added to all of the years. I tried to warn her to stay away, that my secrets were too harsh to share, too much to forgive. And it’s my fault for forgetting how stubborn she can be. How focused on what she wants.
Did I mean to call it a date? No. Did it feel like one? It felt like a date and then some. Nervous expectation, my blush as I spied her arriving so early, the easiness of how natural it was to be at her side. Back to the places that it had all began. I didn’t plan on the oaf of a newbie, the crazy way that she had lost the fight by looking at me. Only having eyes for me. I did get to squeeze both of her knees though… it wasn’t all bad.
The feeling like distance was being made. The slow signs welcome because it at least gave us direction. I had found the hope and belief, and I accepted that I wanted the Faith that went with them. I would destroy the secrets that had held me back, would end them and then speak them. Offer what I was and pray that it was still worth loving.
I ended it… but the secret was already out. I felt the dismay in her words, the anger, the revulsion. Still so close to the surface, so easy to welcome back. The horror at seeing so much in her eyes, not even beginning to match the horror at myself. I gave the last of my everything holding her back from him, from Spike. I had made myself less there, I couldn’t stand by and let her do the same. Let her lose herself in the evil which he offered so freely.
I didn’t stay to see that he was okay, how bad she had hurt him, all I cared about was how bad I had hurt her. How much damage my betrayal had caused this time. Then going to Cordy, but not having the words, finding the wrong ones. The blood at my mouth increasing her panic. Had Faith done this? I gave my ‘yes’ without explanation, led them all away from my wrongs, with worry about hers. Such a coward in the face of all that I had done. I saw it in her eyes when she had returned, and I withered under her glare. It provoked the truth today. A day when she wrapped her eyes up and away from me. Left me feeling like there is nothing left inside there for me, no more promises of better. Of salvation.
It made it easier to shock the socks off my friends with my nasty revelation. There was no more reason to try and hide it. What does it matter anymore?
I stare up at the ceiling and wonder if heaven really is up there and waiting. At the karmic cost to my scales since I have been back. So bad I want that pause button. The rewind button. The any button but now button. To take it all back and to do it all right. So bad I want it that I miss the sound of the volume button. Miss the turn of the door handle and the invasion of space. Don’t register a thing until the heaviness of her voice is falling deep into my ears.
“Are you ok?”
You what?… I barely dare to look, scared that all she could be bringing will be the final chapter in the book. Not asking me if she should stay, but telling me she is leaving. For her. Because I feel too much like pain. I lift myself slowly, elbows bending to support my weight, below her on the floor and looking up into the windows of her soul. The glasses are gone now, forcing me to fix my eyes onto the harsh brutality of her gaze. All of the different ways that she is hurting.
And yet she asks me if I am okay?
I can’t even pretend that I can hide behind perky. Behind a false tone of everything that I’m not. I look at her and I show the truth. No Faith, I’m not okay. I’m the furthest from okay that I’ve ever been in the whole of my sorry existence.
I bring myself to my knees and then to my feet, just one step closer, just one gaze more. Our eyes are connected in a hold that I never want to break, the world dimming as this moment slides into our never ending book of moments. Complete with the crackling intensity, the very air balancing on a knife edge. Frozen yet burning.
I wish I had the words, anything to show her how sorry I am. I go to speak, to find form for something that I know I need to say. “Faith…”
And it ends right there. Her hand raising up to stop me as her own mouth is opening. “No, I asked if you were okay.”
“But…”
“I don’t wanna hear it B… just let me know that you’re gonna be okay.”
“I…” I what? Her eyes are a wealth of unspoken information and I can’t miss the concern, after everything I can still hear it. Am shocked by the fact that it’s there. It inspires me to relax into my nod. “…I think so, I… I know it’s gonna take time. I’ve let them down, I get that…”
“You fucked up big style.” She drops her gaze to the floor, shaking her head as a bitter laugh slips from her lips. “I never would’ve believed it B, not you… I swear I thought you were fucking perfect…” Confusion sounds through her words and she looks to me again. “…what the hell happened?” I don’t know if she wants an answer, if I have an answer. She runs a hand up through her hair, letting out a sound that could be either a growl or a sigh. Maybe both. “Do you know how sick it is? Jesus, I can’t even stomach the thought of that fucker touching me… but you B? You let him, you fucking wanted him to!”
Her feet start to pace the space right in front of me, just pausing to crash her fist against the bag, the tension making me freeze in the spot where I stand, not daring to speak, to move, to breathe. Preparing myself to face the weight of her words, to accept the judgement that she offers me. Anything she offers me.
The silence that encroaches us causes me to seek her gaze again, to witness her struggle to find words, her mouth one minute falling open, and the next moment clamping shut. Her hands raising to accentuate the speech that doesn’t come, instead thrusting into the punch bag with another of the blows to beat back the pain. Blows that I almost wish were for me. That they would land on my skin and dull the pain there.
Her voice when she finds it is so far from Faith, so far from the energy of life, from the energy of her. It speaks flat in its monotone, devoid of all feeling. “How long have you been screwing him?”
And this time I know that an answer is demanded. Expected. Try to make my words stronger than a whisper. “Since… when Giles left. I…” I remember the feeling of abandonment. Of one more thing to hide from. “…I never meant for it to happen.” Her eyes flick up and she’s calling me a liar. Disbelief etched right across her face. “No Faith… I swear, I never wanted to go there, I didn’t want him… I never wanted him.”
“So you thought that you’d prove it by fucking him?” It sounds as nasty coming from her lips as it did when he slid against my body. “Wanted to let him know first hand how much you didn’t want him?”
“You don’t understand…”
“Damn fucking right, I don’t understand!” She swings herself from the bag and stalks into my space, no longer devoid but coursing with anger, eyes flashing with danger as they settle onto me. “Are you gonna explain it to me B, dress it up with words about death, and pain… all of the bullshit?”
Her breath is falling heavy from her lips, her face is settling into a sneer. It’s a look I remember from so long ago. The one that she used to hide behind. That she used to fool us all with. I step towards her, I don’t mean to. I know she doesn’t want me… but I just move. Such a small distance to cross, my space to hers. She doesn’t react as I reach out a hand to her, still fixing the sneer, distaste sliding across my skin. And I just want to push through it.
I swallow the lump that threatens to quieten me and try to tell it like it is. Not what she thinks, what they all think. But the truth. My fingers turning her head back, even as she seeks to tear it away. “It wasn’t sex Faith… it was never about sex, about wanting him, touching him…” I remember his fingers as they crawled over body, eliciting cries and moans, drowning out the sorrow with the endless disgust. “…I hated him touching me, the ways that he touched me, and that’s why.” Her gaze is unmoving, maybe unmoved. I drop my hand away from her and use it to trace away my tears, to try and wipe at the weakness that she’s getting to see. I don’t want to give her my tears, I owe her so much more than my tears. I hear my voice crack as I admit to how little I became, each word carrying the truth as I felt it. “I was so lost, so empty… I couldn’t do it anymore Faith, I didn’t know how to do it, to pretend, to smile, to live… Spike was the only one I could tell. The only one I could bare to show the truth to…”
She scoffs at my words, fills the silence with anger. “An evil vamp? All of your friends, and you could only share the truth with a blood sucking corpse?”
“My friends could never have dealt with it.”
“You never gave them the chance.”
I watch as she walks her way across the room, the fluid movement of her limbs lost in the tenseness of the moment. Her back so rigid as she fights what she’s feeling. I guess the need to pound me, to beat on me in the style of the slayer. I don’t know whether to carry on, whether she waits for more words to mock, more reasons to ridicule. I let my body sink back to the mats, strain my ears as she speaks in a whisper.
“How long? When… the last time? How long?” She doesn’t turn to look, perhaps protecting herself from the answer that she suspects.
And I want to lie, but she’ll know. “Last week, I… I went to him, I didn’t, we didn’t… sleep together, but I went to him… before the cemetery.”
“The cemetery?”
“Before I saw you.”
“Oh…”
“But not since, I haven’t gone there since.”
She swings round to face me, accusation in her eyes. “That’s not how it looked last night.”
I know that I deserve her accusations, all of them. But not for last night. Last night was different, last night was me ending the madness, releasing myself from the last of the binds which had tied me to death. I didn’t want to roll around in the dirt anymore, I wanted my life back. I want to live.
“Last night was different Faith, I was putting a stop to it… ending it.”
“You never should have started it!”
“And you think I don’t know that? You think I don’t spend all of my seconds just wishing I could change it…” My voice carried me up from the floor, my feet carrying me across the room. “…I hate what I did! I hate it Faith…” I see her retreating, not with her body, it’s all in the eyes. Taking them away from me, closing herself to all of my regrets. “…I hate what I’ve done to you.”
It falls from my mouth just a whisper, the most honest truth that I know. And it nails my coffin shut. The change that comes over her is heart breaking to watch. The solidness in her stance, no softness about her edges. She’s looking into me again and it’s like no one is there. Emptiness and voids. “Forget it.”
“Forget it?”
And she can keep me from her eyes, but she can’t keep the sigh from escaping her lips. “This can’t be about this, not now B.” ‘This’ has me almost falling into her space, the just one touch to make it better. And she moves before I do. A pace across the floor to safer waters. Emphasising the distance between us in the most obvious way. “That shit with the witches, I don’t know if you feel it..?”
The dread. I nod my head, try to steady my focus on this problem.
“I’ve been getting the nasty vibe since your birthday B, and I dunno… I feel like this shit is gonna be real bad.”
“Shit usually is.”
“Cute.” She rolls the business eyes up to the ceiling. “We’ve gotta get a grip on it though, I spoke to Angel…” She pauses when she says that and I can only guess why. What other things they talked about. I hang my head in shame, listen to her words with my eyes to the ground. “…he said he can come down if we need him, that Wes and Fred could come too, it could help?”
“You’re asking me?”
“This is still your show to run, I don’t wanna step on no toes.” And I wish she would come close enough to step on toes.
“No toes stepped on.” I try and smile, but really, she’s not responsive. “I don’t know if we need them, Giles is coming… maybe they could dig up info their end?”
“Yeah, I said that, Angel hates doing the work and not getting the action though, Cordy can testify to that…” Huh? I catch the eyebrows but not the meaning. “…if they find something out, then they’ll be here before you can say ‘helps the helpless’, he takes the champion thing pretty serious, ya know?”
I see the fondness for Angel and it’s a nice break from seeing the scowls for me. “How is Angel?” I try and keep it going, I haven’t seen him since… well, since my resurrection, another thing I let slide.
“He thinks that you’re seriously whacked, ‘part from that he’s cool, working on his tan.”
“You told him then… about me, and… Spike?”
“Honesty amongst friends B. You should try it.”
And I am chastised again. It throws us back into a silence that even big bads can’t begin to cover. Am I allowed to speak more? Does she really not want to listen? “Faith?”
Can she even hear me?
“I think we should shake up patrol, no one goes out alone, and the witches…” She rolls right around the moment and forces us back on track. “…I think one of us needs to be with them at all times…”
“All times?”
“There ain’t no way these fuckers are getting their hands on them girls, we’ll split shift, I’ll cover when you’re at work, you can do the rest.”
“And patrol?”
“Whoever’s off duty gets to do the rest of the duties.” She shrugs her shoulders, walks a little closer. “It means no down time, but we’re slayers right? It’s the job.”
And when did she get so good at her job? “You’ve got it all worked out huh?”
“You think I’m wrong?”
“No, I’m just… impressed.” I try for that smile again, is it safe to give smiles?
“Right.” She blows off the compliment, ignores the smile. “You got anything to add?”
I’m like a calculator on speed, I have a thousand and one things to add. None of them anything that she wants to hear though. “No, I’m good. You’ve got it all covered.”
“Not quite all.”
“Huh?”
I watch as her shoulders square, her face so tense that rigid seems soft in comparison. “It fucking pains me to say this B, but I’ve been thinking...”
I hear the tone and I’m fearing the worst. Is this the leaving speech? I catch her eyes, see that the pain is back, not even walls enough to ensnare her level of discomfort.
“It’s about Spike.” It’s a word wrapped in so much hate now, so much bitterness. She spits it from her lips making the distaste known. But I don‘t understand.
“What about him?” Maybe she’ll tell me that she is going to kill him. To more kill him. I expect it, I’d almost welcome it. But I won’t let her clean up my mistakes. I prepare myself to plead my case. To hold her back again… then she just shocks the ass off of me.
“Do you think that maybe Dawn was right?”
And holy freaking huh? “You what!?”
“Do you think that he could help?” I swear I must be looking at her as if SHE is now fit for insanity. My mouth hanging open, my eyebrows up on the ceiling. I see her slip her head to the side, watch her admire my pose. “Chill B, I don’t fucking like it, but I’m not fucking stupid.” Her hands slip to the punch bag again, not pounding now, but gripping. “If you think he can help, that he can give us anything…”
I want to say ‘no’! To protest and to banish him far from my life. But it could be ‘yes’. Speaking about big bads was never much on our agenda. Speaking wasn’t much on the agenda. For all I know Spike could hold the key to everything, and I wouldn’t have a clue. Slayer sleuth? Not a chance. “I don’t… I haven’t asked him.”
She pauses on her breath, looks me slowly over. “Are you up to asking him?”
“Me?”
“Well I’m pretty sure that I don’t need to see him. I‘d get all stake happy.”
“Right… well, sure!” And I SO don’t need to see him. “I’ll… swing by tomorrow…” The thought of seeing him now is enough to make me want to physically gag. My insides twisting as I think of his eyes sliding over me again. How did I ever let him touch me?
“Are you sure it’s cool?” She looks so uncomfortable, unsure of what she should say, what it’s ok to say. “He won’t try and… hurt you?”
“I’d kill him before he could he touch me.”
Even she can’t miss the force of my tone. I mean every word. I never want him to touch me again. Ever. If he can help us? Great. But nothing more. Never again. Her eyes are stuck on looking at me, questioning me. “You mean that?”
“I swear it.”
She nods as if she accepts it. Moves a step closer to walk to the door. “Well, I guess that’s everything.”
“No Faith, wait…”
“I said not now.” I ignore her words to stand my way in front of her, try and be the immovable object that she has been for me. She sighs again, pulls her hand through her hair again. “For fucks sake B, what do you expect from me?”
“I just want you to listen.” I appeal to her with everything that I feel, don’t shroud anything anymore, free from the burdens to show her all of my truths. Those deep brown pools of emotion looking right into me. And she’s letting it all flow again. “Can you do that Faith?”
Her fingers shake as they hover through the air to reach me, almost not touching, just grazing my cheek. I try so hard not to breathe, not to move, not to take my eyes away. Her voice is broken, not directing at me. I’m not even sure that she is talking to me.
“I am so screwed.”
“You what?”
She drops her hand back to her side. Gives a laugh that’s not quite hollow. “Nothing, it doesn’t matter.” But it does matter, all of this matters. I don’t know what to do. What to say. I pause on the instant, leave the ball in her court and hope that she feels like playing. Try not to keep the hope in my eyes, to make her feel like I expect anything from her. I do just want her to listen.
“I’ll make you a deal.”
“A deal?”
“All of this B? I’ve gotta be honest, it feels pretty fucking shit… I can’t, man…” Her frustration growls from her chest and resonates against mine. I didn’t realise how close our space was again. How she hasn’t stepped back. “…it’s just messed up, and I don’t think I can deal with it all right now.”
My head drops as the words do the same. Makes her fingers touch my skin again. Makes me wanna keep dropping my head. Instead I raise it as she demands, let myself be the one who has to listen.
“I’m not saying I won’t deal B, I’m just saying not now… we’ve got so much shit to get through, the witches to look after… just, can we leave this for now? We’ll save the world first and then we’ll save ourselves.”
“You think that we can be saved?”
“Do you?”
What is it with answering questions with questions? And how to answer? Does ‘yes’ sound too cocky, too dismissive of what I’ve done? I try and muster some confidence, put some strength into my words. “I hope so Faith, I really truly hope so.” And my god! Is that a dimple? “Are you smiling?”
“Maybe… but I’m definitely not meaning to.” She only smiles wider with her words, blows her own assurance straight out of the water.
“Well… it’s a nice non-smile.”
“You know it’s not for you, right? I’m still pissed at you B.”
And I ignore the humour and catch the truth. “I get that, I’ve got lots of making up to do.” I can feel the tension lifting. That calmness that her presence brings seeping its way through to my bones. I know just how bad I have messed everything up, but she isn’t turning her back on me. Giving up on me.
The anger still simmers just below the surface, her disappointment and her pain… but through all of it, in her eyes that she’s resting upon me without the discomfort, there I just see Faith. And it’s like I said… she looks at me and she just sees Buffy.
It is the same. Different but the same. The reason that my heart started beating again.
“Make it up to the others first, yeah? Dawn took it pretty harsh, your friends… I can wait B, serious, we’ve got the slayer gig to get on with… lets deal with that and then we’ll deal with…”
Her voice drops to nothing and her gaze drops to the space between our bodies. There isn’t so much, me leaning in, her leaning in. The gap shrinking quickly.
“With us, Faith?”
I’m speaking almost against her lips, trying to keep it all steady. To ignore the pull which threatens to drag me onto her. Into her. She’s not helping me though. I see where her own eyes sit, not listening to words, but watching them being formed. Watching my mouth move, just as I’m watching hers. “Yeah, with us.” I can’t stop the slight whimper that slips straight from my throat as her body pulls back, as she straightens those shoulders and shakes off the feeling. It makes her look at me funny, makes the corners of her mouth curve up into another smile. Makes words fall from her lips as she turns away from facing me. “Yeah, I’m definitely screwed.” I don’t ask. Watch her back as it makes its way closer to the door. Then she’s stopping and turning, speaking. “I’m gonna grab Cordy and then shoot, I guess I’ll speak to you tomorrow?”
“Definitely.”
“And the vamp thing?” And I’m listening. “If you need me, if you don’t wanna go alone… I’ll come ok?” And I really don’t think that that’s the best idea ever. Maybe my eyes have gone wide, but she’s shaking her head. “Contrary to some people’s words B, I am pretty good at reeling in the madness. I can cope… if you need me?”
“I’ll be fine. Really. It’ll all be fine.” I don’t know who I’m trying to tell. I know that I don’t want to see Spike, I need distance from my mistake. But still I assure her. It is my mess to clean.
“Cool, … that’s all then right?”
Her hand is on the door and I wish I could think of a valid reason for her to stay. I stand and watch her go though, catch her goodbye, another half smile.
And she truly is amazing.
Angel was the love of my life. But now? Now it feels like I have a new life, a new love. What I feel for her I have never felt… not years ago when she was here, it’s so much more than that. Much more than anything. I don’t know? Maybe I had to die to appreciate it, to accept it.
I thought that the third time would be the charm for dying, but with her half smiles I see, so still wrapped in promises? Now I’m kinda thinking that the third time living might just be the charm. We’ll sort out this bad, and then we can get to the ‘us’.
I can live with that, I can live for that. ‘Us’. It’s a word that I like. A word that I wanna use more of.
POV Faith.
Forgiveness.
A word that comes with being sorry. A word that I understand. I’ve been sorry for so many things during my life, that there was a time I didn’t just wonder that ‘sorry’ wasn’t my name. Not Faith, that was a cool name, a name for someone who was good. Someone to believe in. Not me. No. Sorry suited me better than any word I had ever heard, one big fucked up walking mistake. Not a chance at being good, cos I was just so damn bad.
I didn’t even know how much I hated it. For so long I ran with the idea that I was tougher, better, that no one could touch me, I didn’t want to be touched. I was every masochist’s dream date. Fuck me more, fuck me harder, fuck me up. As long as there was no pillow talk after, no voice to remind me of where I was… hell, then I was fine. Then I could tell myself that I was in control. That I was the fucking queen of badass.
Tears only ever allowed to fall if I was smashed, if alcohol had dulled my senses enough not to care. Not to fight. Weakness didn’t matter then, not when I could wake up the next day and throw up the sickness out of me. Another day, back on the track. Another day to spiral further and further down, distancing myself from life until all that was left was to beg for death. Until I had destroyed every single tie that could have kept me clinging to the thing called living.
So yes. I know sorry. I know what it looks like. What it tastes like. And I know what it sounds like. Not the two syllable word that doesn’t count for shit, show me that word and I’ll beat ya to death.., I mean the real sorry. The one that speaks for more than a thousand empty words. The one that bares its pain in a hunch of a shoulder, in the weariness of an eye. In the willingness to stand and take more pain because you believe that is all that there is left that you could possibly deserve. All that you will ever deserve.
But everyone deserves another chance. Not a second chance. Or a third chance. Fuck it… a million damn chances. If someone can stand and be that sorry then they deserve everything that you have left. Even someone like me. Someone who took life. Someone who fucked over her friends. Who hurt the one person that had ever tried to make them different. Make them more. Even I got another chance. And I know if I fall down again, if I scrape my knees on the path marked evil, I know that still there’d be people there pulling me back, holding onto me… believing in me.
There’s a whole lot of strength in that knowledge. Even when the world starts shaking again, there’s strength. A place to turn to. A centre of calm. Angel had helped me find mine. Had helped me find a lot of things. It was him who first made me realise what forgiveness really was. How it came with being sorry.
It ain’t even something you can work at either. I mean what? Be good for a few days and I’ll forgive you? Fuck off. That’s as bullshit as them other two syllables. You show me that you’re sorry, you show me with the hunch, with the weariness… you show me something I can recognise and you have my forgiveness. Don’t even gotta ask for it… I know what the bottom of the barrel feels like. I wouldn’t make anyone stay there if I could help them out, could give them a hand up.
And I’m not a fucking hero, Angel is a hero. These are his words, I’m borrowing them because I believe in them. I trust in them.
I was so full of rage and anger when I spoke to him, every word a cuss word, every sentence spat with hate down the phone. He hung up on me, told me to call again once I’d put the old me back to bed. Said if I didn’t ring him back in five minutes he was gonna be getting his ass down here to take a kick at mine. And then he gave me the cut off tone. The fucking receiver sitting pointless in my grasp. So much sitting pointless within my grasp.
Made me take a step back. A sit down. A long fucking sigh and then back on the phone. I knew that he would shut me up, it was why I had rang him. And I knew that he would make me remember, remember how sorry I was, how easy forgiveness should be. How destructive hate can be.
He gets the Buffy thing just like I do. It cuts him too, hurts him too. When you love someone you don’t want to see them fall, to see them lower themselves to the worst kind of depravity. Destroying themselves because it’s all that they can do. No. When you love someone you want them to shine, to sparkle… more than anything you want them to smile. He wants Buffy’s happiness just like I do.
So I know that I can forgive her. I do forgive her. I only had to look at how sorry she was and I forgave her. But the bitch of the sitch is that forgetting is so much harder. And everyone knows that. Look at Wes. The guy works side to side with me, he relies on me. Yet he’s still fucking scared of me. One wrong word and he shits his pants. A wrong look, a harsh tone. He hasn’t forgotten. No matter if he forgives me, he can’t forget. And the Scoobs? Man, they took me in like I never would’ve believed, but it still only took one word from Buffy to make them trust that I was flipping. Memories are a hard fucking thing to get rid of. They bare the scars of all of my bad times just like I do. Maybe always will do.
So I’m stuck in a place where every moment, I want to pull her up from that barrel, yet I don’t wanna touch her for fear of what I’ll feel. If his touch has branded itself to her skin, a tattoo that can’t be erased, a stench that can’t be removed.
Listening to her justify it had made me feel sick. Hearing the words again, seeing the show in my head… fuck. I threw acid from my tongue without even thinking. Defences still urging that I should hit back. Should hurt back. ‘You’re sorry B? Well fuck you B.’ That’s what those minutes felt like. They felt like crushing her underfoot. Ignoring every word I’d heard, all the syllables. They were bullshit.
And they stayed bullshit until I heard the tone. Until I saw the way her eyes shone with the horror of just everything. Her arms sliding around herself in a last grab at comfort. Then it stopped being bullshit. I felt the words.
‘…he can hurt me.’ And I saw just how much he had. Just how much she had hurt herself.
I slapped back the troops with some more of that acid, doused the flames of riot with a forceful punch of my own. It hurt to dismiss her, to toss her aside, but it hurt less than watching her get ripped apart. Than seeing her ready to just accept blows. Her friends are angry, they have that right… they all have the right, but destroying Buffy isn’t the way to get over it. Especially not now. Not when they all need each other so much.
I didn’t think that I was ready to face her in the basement, didn’t think that I could make my mouth work without adding more of the bad stuff. God, I tried so hard to just keep it..? Calm? Stable? Not another fucking moment that wraps us up and in. I am a slayer, she is a slayer, the world needs saving. I tried to keep it that. Not us.
I got angry at myself for wanting to care so much. For wanting my first act to be taking her in my arms and holding her firm. Holding her steady. I got angry that all she ever seems to do is to touch inside of me… even after this, after him, she still has the fucking ability to make my heart pound louder. It’s not a realisation to keep cool to. I had to question her on him, to make her say the words to keep it real, to keep myself from just falling to my knees and holding her.
Fight the buzz. Fight the feeling. Punch the bag. Punch anything.
Every time I felt the pull bring her nearer, I took a step away. Tried to ignore whatever the hell it is that has us bound together, the thing that makes loving her seem like the most natural thing in the world. Imagined him instead, the sneer that sits on his face so well. That vibe that crawls across my skin. And then her words, reaching in… touching places.
Don’t listen. Don’t react. Don’t make it so damn fucking easy!
And I said that I was screwed. It was the first feeling that made sense. I wanted the truth and she gave me the truth. Truth that made me sick, that made me retch with the knowledge. But still not the loudest truth. The one that I saw, the one that I have been seeing. The one that stopped her eyes looking dead, the one that says no matter what..? My shit, her shit… the whole fucking world’s shit, it doesn’t matter. Because underneath it all we just see each other.
It softened the edges. It made me smile.
It makes me wish that I could forget the pressure of the job and whisk her away for a weekend in the country. A well deserved R&R. But instead I have to make this not about us, not about losing sight of everything to lose my sight in her. Sometimes just standing next to her can make the world fade, can make everything else dull in comparison… and I can’t do that. I can’t protect a world that I can’t see.
So I’ll keep her at arms length, I’ll be the slayer to her slayer and for now that is all. It’s like I said, we can save the world and then we can save ourselves. And I do believe that we can be saved, but more than that I believe that we deserve the chance to be saved. To take the ‘this’ that keeps me coming back for more and turn it into an ‘us’.
It still hurts, it still gives me pain like no fucking other… but I know that she didn’t mean to hurt me. Didn’t plan to hurt me. It was all about hurting herself. I understand that. I know that. And I forgive that.
It is all that I could do.
Now ask me about the dead fucker. Ask me how damn hard it is to turn to him for help when all I want to do is to turn him into dust. My sickness is all for him now, my sneers and my distaste. I know how evil works, the way it slips into our cracks, slides in past our defences. With me it was the Mayor, knowing which words he needed to say to sway my feet, to have me falling into step beside him… and with B it was Spike. Sliding his deceit inside of her, tainting her with the blackness that is all evil. I bet he thought a thousand fucking years of Christmases had come at once when he saw how easy it would be to screw her over. How fucking desperate and sinking fast she was. The guy could have been a fucking hero, could have been more than the chip in his head. But he wasn’t. He took her. And he hurt her. I fucking hate him.
But I can reel it. I’m the god damn slayer, I waste things bigger and badder than him for breakfast. He won’t break me. Won’t taunt me into losing my control. He can help and then he can fuck off, understand that his ‘free pass’ here is over now… my say so. My rules. Do I sound tough? I ought to, I damn well feel it. My hand around my stake assures me of it. One wrong move, one wrong look. You can believe that I’ll be looking for it.
I look again at the phone that prompted this latest bout of deep thought. The words that she said, the orders that she issued. Seems we’re moving up a gear, that the time to fight is drawing closer. It suits me, I want it over and done with, put to rest. I search out Cordy to give her the low down, find her propped on the sofa staring contentedly at the TV. Her eyes rising to meet mine as soon as she hears me. I know I’m not the only one that wants this over, that wants to move on. Cordy has places to be, people to see.
“That was B on the phone, she wants us to go over…”
“And what Buffy wants, Buffy gets. There’s a surprise!”
“Huh…?” Did someone turn up the hostility? “What’s the deal Cor?”
“You! And her!… don’t get me wrong, I’m not a fan of ‘Psycho Faith’, anymore than the next person, but…”
Oh, I know where this is going. She wants to run a protection ring all around me. Save me from the big bad B.
“…I don’t understand how you can be so..?”
“Forgiving?”
“No! Not forgiving… whupped!” I am SO not whupped. “One word from her and we’re back best buds? I didn’t even get to shout at her! I WANTED to shout at her!”
“You wanted to shout at her?” I back away as she gets up, it’s not so often that Cordy loses her cool. It’s pretty frightening, even for me.
“She ‘needs’ shouting at! All those times Faith, you remember them? With Dawn… and she was, with… ugh, it’s so wrong!” Her hands are gesticulating wildly and her eyes are flaming fire. “And you? The way she plays you…”
“Hold up there Cordy.” I raise my hand, I may be scared but I am not being played. “You can tear as many strips from her as you like, but not for that… she hasn’t played me. Not this time.”
“You see? Whupped!” Her face looks like pain, and I worry she might blow a gasket. Or ten. I’ll go for the calming voice, point her towards reason.
“Did you speak to Angel?” And more flashes of pain.
“Yes! And don’t worry… his saying the same lines as you. ‘Forgive Buffy, Love Buffy’, well ya know what?” I shake my head. “Fuck Buffy!”
Ok. I need to work on my calming skills. “Fuck Buffy?”
“I’m sick of it being ok for her to hurt people, people that I care about.”
Her angers dissipates over the last word and I get it. Of course I do. “Cordy, you’ve gotta know that it wasn’t about hurting me, Dawn, hurting any of us. It was about hurting herself.”
She looks unimpressed, and I see again that she’s heard that too. “Well I guess the collateral damage is ok then, right? As long as it was centred on Buffy, everyone else can fall by the way… same old Sunnydale story.”
God. With the bitter. “Why so pissed? It’s not like you to not find the empathy.”
“Maybe for just a second I’d like the world not to revolve around her! Five minutes back and my whole world depends on the moods of Buffy Summers. Why is that?”
“I dunno… maybe you’re hot for her?” I watch as her face goes from thunder to the ridiculous. See some of my Cordy come back to the fore.
“Hot… for her?”
“Uh-huh. She’s got ya pretty worked up there, all flushed, little breathless…” I’m wiggling my brows, giving her all of my looks. “…maybe you’re the whupped one?”
I swear she’s fucking growling! “I will never be hot for a girl like her! EVER! You and Angel can have that all for yourselves…”
Ooooh! Spot the obvious? Anyone?
“So you’re pissed at Angel then?”
She’s trying to hide it. “Which logic are you using there Faith?”
“The state the obvious one, it’s my favourite.” And I won’t let her.
Her rampant pacing halts to a stop, the sofa battered as she throws herself down. “Just tell me Faith, why her? Am I missing something? The way Angel speaks about her it’s like she’s the damn second coming…”
And what can I say? Of course Angel loves her. Always will. But he’s not like… IN love with her. I know that. “I think you’re freaking for nothing, the big guy just wants the best for her, same as he wants the best for me… for you.”
I watch as she sighs so fucking large. “Can we just get out of here soon? I swear I hate Sunnydale.”
“That’s kinda what I came out here for, B said on the phone that…”
“Didn’t you speak to her enough last night?”
“Huh?”
“Well, what was it… three times?”
Oh for fucks sake. “They were about the bad stuff! They were business calls!”
“Yes Faith, I forgot how business minded you are…”
This isn’t fair. “Man, can you cut me a break here? I’m trying ok?” I see her hush, her mouth close with a question in her eye. “I don’t want to bend over backwards for her, I swear I don’t… but I can’t not forgive her Cordy, not because I love her, or any of that shit… but because I know what it’s like, I know that she’s sorry.” Maybe the depth in my words touches somewhere, because she doesn’t fire back Cordy style. She takes a breath and keeps it tight. Allows me to keep speaking. Explaining. “I rang her again last night because she went to see him… I wanted to know how it went…”
“Dusty?”
I give her the look that says ‘I wish’. “No, not this time, seems he thinks he can help. He’s got some info.”
“And then will she dust him?”
What do I know? He’s not chipped up to her. She’s allowed to dust him. Right? “Fucked if I know Cordy, I doubt it…”
She looks, I look. We both sigh. “So what is the plan according to our wondrous leader?”
“We’re meeting at hers, after sundown.” I look out the window. It is sundown. “Giles got in this afternoon, Spike’s gonna be there… I think it’s just pow-wow, we get the evil dead’s info, Giles points us in the right direction.”
“Yay! More research!” And I feel that. There’s nothing more strenuous than hitting the books. I’d rather hit anything else. I watch as she closes her eyes for a second, opens them up with a glint in her eye. The Cordy glint.
“Hey, do you think Giles got all sexy and cool like Wes did?”
And where did that come from? “You think Wes is sexy cool?”
It’s fun to watch her stumble back over her words. The eyes all flying wide. “Uh… sexier? Cooler?”
And I ain’t even keeping in my laughs. It’s sweet relief. “It wouldn’t be hard!” She laughs with me, glad to have escaped. It only makes me laugh harder. “And don’t think you’re getting away with it… I am SO telling Angel that you’re crushing on Wes again, man, he’s gonna be broken hearted…”
“I am NOT crushing on Wes, ewww, the memories…”
“They keep you warm at night?”
“Faith!”
And I see no reason to stop. “All the time I thought you were sweet on Angel, you got me fooled. Really, kudos to you girl…” I’m ready to launch into some full on teasing. A break from the bad stuff. Just finding the fun.
“Faith, I’m saying this one last time. I do not have a crush on Wes, NOT even a little…” I stick my tongue out. I feel juvenile. “…and Angel.” Her voice softens. Just like that. And I forget the fun. Just like that. “I know you think there’s some great romance going on, but really… no. It’s just, I just love him. You get that?”
Of course I get that, and now I feel mean for the teasing. It must be hard, loving something you know you can never have. Not really have. Another place I remember. I should be a fucking tour guide.
“I get it. I’m sorry.”
“Forgiven.”
She smiles the kinda smile you only get to see if you live in her circle. She can be as caustic to the rest of the world as she likes. Cordelia Chase is a fucking beautiful person. You just have to be in her circle to see it.
It’s broken the chain of banter. Both of us calm now. Just sitting, just thinking. I would’ve guessed that her thoughts rested with Angel, not the other vampire… but her words teach me different. “Will you be ok tonight, with him there?”
“Ask me if HE will be ok?”
And I have to watch that venom. It falls so easily for him. “Faith?”
My hands find my hair as if they are pulling out the sigh. “I just wanna kill him Cor, want to end him… it burns me, you know?” I see her nod, she reaches out her hand and places it calmly on my arm. A little squeeze, a little comfort. “It’s not for me. It WAS for me… to calm my anger, dull the pain… but now? Now I just want to wipe out what he did to her. She was at her lowest and he just dragged her down lower… took her to the depths and then some, I just… I fucking hate him, do you get that?”
Another squeeze. Permission to continue. “I won’t lose it, I know I won’t… but it doesn’t mean I don’t want to. That it’s hard. Slaying’s what I do, he makes me want to do it.”
“You’ll be fine.”
“He even looks at me wrong though, speaks to me…”
“Shush.” She won’t let the anger boil. Knows me well enough to prevent it. “He won’t get near you Faith, I won’t let him. You may have some moral hang ups, but I’m not so afflicted… he comes near you and I’ll kill him.”
And I believe her. Balls of steel this woman. Fucking balls of steel. “Thanks.”
“The same goes for Buffy.”
“Huh?”
“If she hurts you again Faith, then she’s done for. I won’t make this hard for her, and that’s for you.” Should I say thank you again? “I understand that she was in pain, I’m not an ass… but I love you, you know that. If she hurts you again, I won’t be held back.”
“You want me to warn her?”
“I can take care of that myself, I think, don’t you?”
I believe she could take care of anything. Have I ever told you she’s my hero? “I think you have it under control… just go easy though ok? She’s pretty beat up, no need to add to that.”
I don’t mean it too, but that does come out a little sounding like a warning. No threat, not hostile. But a silent warning. I love Buffy, and I don’t want to see HER hurt again.
Her eyes roll, her head shakes. She mumbles under her breath. “Whupped.”
And I don’t even argue. I know the truth. I’m not whupped, I’m looking to find the bricks to build a partnership. The road to equality. If I’m whupped, then I’ve seen enough in her eyes to know that she is whupped too. I can deal with that. Give me the time, and I’ll deal with all of it.
“Are you ready set to motor?”
Her face says no. A firm no. Luckily her words disagree. “Sure, can’t wait… bring on the fun times.”
“I hear ya.” And I do. Oh for just one night of fun…
We pick ourselves up though, dust ourselves off for more of the same. Hopefully something we can work with. An idea what we’re dealing with. She plods to the car with heaviness in her step. I can’t help but feel the lightness in mine. Yeah it’s work, yeah it’s hard. But ya see… I have this partner. A slayer to my slayer. And the world can throw us whatever it wants, we’ll take whatever it gives.
Yeah I’m light. And I’m ready to burn the darkness.
The troops were assembling as troops always do. There to face the bad, there to fight the bad. It was what they did. Regardless of their worlds, the things which rocked them personally, they were always there. Xander with Anya, so often the relief amongst the angst. Willow and Tara, beaten but not broken. Dawn skittish, not happy to be facing more of the bad stuff, the scary stuff. And Buffy. Still suffering the feel of castration, an aside from the group that she felt she understood. Believed that she deserved.
Giles returning home today, home to them, it had felt so damn good, one more reason to smile amongst so many reasons to find tears. Buffy had lost herself in his embrace, not scared to burst forth to him with feeling, to show him just how far from the path of goodness she had strayed. And he had taken it in his stride, not offered more words of disgust and distaste. Mostly just disbelief. Absolute wonder that she could have ever turned to something that was just so… vile.
And then he had been swamped by the others, everyone exuberant to have him back in town. Back in the fold. The gloom of knowing nothing, lifting with the knowledge that he was there. That he was back guiding the ship. Hopefully sailing around the disasters. It wasn’t like they blamed him for going… not really. It had just seemed that since he had left, there had been so much that had gone wrong. Him letting go of their hands being all of their cues to fall.
They were waiting now, just tapping their toes to the sound of the clock and counting all of the minutes. Spike was coming. And no one was happy about it. They had learnt to accept him as a helper on the periphery, but letting him back into their core, now that he had struck at their hearts? It helped to keep the beginning of sneers in place. A general air of discontent. When the door had gone at the back they had all looked up. All knowing who still thought they had easy access. Who didn’t realise just how hated he had become.
“Spike.” And it was Giles who took the charge, the role of protective father so easy to fall back on.
“Oh bloody hell, ‘you’re’ back.” The vampire tried to keep his menacing form. It was hard. His face bore the healing scars of a thousand hits, and his body moved with the evidence of a thousand more. It made the group smile. Made them grateful to Faith. She may not have executed the job in the full way that they all wished for, but seeing him before them like this was some kind of payback. A calming measure.
“Yes Spike, I am back. You’ll be pleased to know that I’ve heard all about your nasty little soirees with Buffy, and if you didn’t look so pathetic, I would beat you myself.” His voice bore the tone that they would all think of as ‘Ripper’. He had no trouble projecting HIS menacing form.
“She was there too you know? I didn’t deflower your Virgin Bloody Buffy all by myself!”
It made the man advance, so quickly from cool, into the heat of rage. The former watcher using all of his strength to wrap his hand around the throat of the vampire. “I think you should speak only when asked from now on. Don’t you?”
“Giles, leave him… he is here to help, right Spike?”
He released his hold and stepped back, didn’t remove the solid look of distaste from his face.
The vampire straightened himself up and gained some distance from the angry old guy, he trailed his gaze up over the girl, the girl that he had possessed. Wanted back. Making it plain where his thoughts lay. Where his eyes wandered. “Sure thing Blondie, I’ve got lots that you need.”
She tried to stop his eyes from entering her, the eyes of all of her friends studying her with their inquisitive gazes. “Right. Lots of information. That’s good.”
“So can we start already? I for one have loads more important things to do other than this, weddings don’t plan themselves you know.”
“An honey, we’re waiting for Faith, we can do wedding stuff later… MORE wedding stuff.” His sigh was felt through the room. Maybe research wasn’t the worst thing ever. It gave them something to think about, something other than the bruise covered corpse sitting on the sofa. Something to occupy them until the door knocked this time. No presumption to just enter. Making Tara lift up, open the door. Find a smile.
“Faith, Cordy… we were just waiting for you.”
“The best things come, princess.” Faith wiggled her eyebrows at the witch. She wouldn’t betray true feelings. Her nervousness of this moment. Deep breaths. In and out. There was nothing in this room that could beat her. Nothing.
She flicked her eyes to them all with a genuine smile. Stepped up to Giles. Maybe wavered a little. “Hey, Giles…”
“Faith, I heard you were back, Buffy’s been filling me in.”
“Right.., uh… is that good?”
“It’s certainly not bad. I hear you’ve been doing really well for yourself, for everybody.”
“Hey, you gonna start hugging me? Getting with the tears?”
“Not very likely. I just wanted to say well done. I always wondered that there wasn’t more to you.”
She grinned a little at that. She used to wonder the same thing. “Well I’m trying. It’s tough, but it’s worth it.” And then she grinned a lot. More bridges crossed, more of that forgiveness. She almost wished that she didn’t have to turn her gaze to him. To look at the face of all of her distaste. At least he was broken, battered and torn. It was the only thought that she would allow. Not the others. The plaguing ones. No. She couldn’t forget, but she didn’t want to remember. So she focused on his pain. Allowed herself to find her own sardonic smile. “Spikey, nice of YOU to drop by.”
And his sneer couldn’t touch her. Cordy’s arm was by her side, soft soothing circles. Adding words to keep her cool. “You look a little beaten there Spike, you should be careful who you upset.”
“Enough, It seems that everybody’s here… can we get down to business?”
“Where’s Andrew?” Tara spoke up, the one watching the others. Signs, signals. Not much getting past. She noticed the lacking, the one who was missing.
“Andrew? Who’s Andrew?”
“He’s uh… he’s our new boy wonder, Giles. He gets the cakes and stuff now, I got a promotion!”
“Wonderful Xander, so where is he?”
“He’s probably sodded off, can we just get on with this?” Spike kept his eyes down. His knowledge on the inside.
“Tell us what you know…” And Buffy stood, forgetting the personal, ready to command again. “…that’s a good place to start.”
“I was playing poker, didn’t think nothing of it… hearing talk about demons pissing off cos they heard the big stuff was coming. This is the Hellmouth, the big stuff is always coming…”
“So what’s the big stuff?”
No one could miss the little smile that crossed his busted lips. Just for a second, just for a moment. Too quick to analyse. Just noticed. “Something about a… ‘well of all evil’? That sound like anything you know?”
“Oh forget it Spike, I was a demon for centuries… I know that place is a myth, everyone knows that place is a myth!”
“Suit yourself, not what I heard.”
“What are we talking about..? A well of what?”
“All evil Buffy… like a bedtime story for demons. A place where their energy would go when vanquished. Like demon heaven… just as mythical as ours.”
“Slow down Giles, I was IN heaven… no myth!”
Buffy watched as her watcher cast her a glance slightly dubious. “You think that you were in heaven, it could have been any realm… any existence, you have no proof that it was actual ‘heaven’ as such.”
She stood there astounded. It WAS heaven. And it wasn’t mythical.
“So what’s the what with the facts watcher guy? The vamp speaking crap?” Faith was hoping on ‘yes’. Maybe praying on ‘no’. She didn’t want his help, so fucking didn’t want his help, but they needed something. Even mythical places. “We ringing the wrong bells?”
“According to all known research the place is myth, a belief for demons that they would gain a return to existence… that if the portals between worlds was opened then all evil could be reborn. A scary tale, but as far as is known, still just a tale.”
“So why are all the locals pissing off? If it’s ‘just’ mythical?”
Tara added her quiet voice to the proceedings. An observation. “And didn’t Faith mention portals..? Someone wants to open a portal?”
“Oh god… I’m not the key again am I?”
“No Dawnie… not this time, looks like I’m the key this time round.” Willow couldn’t help the desolation that laden down the words. It all sounded bad, fiction or fact. And it all stemmed from her.
“No one’s the key, because nothing is getting open… I’m here this time. And evil had better be scared.” The girl tried to make her words sound strong. False bravado was better than none. “Cordy? Toss us your cell.”
“My cell?” But she was already reaching into her bag for it. Passing it to Faith’s hands and awaiting her move. Watching her scroll through the buttons. Hearing her ask. Feeling the flush.
“What’s Angel under?” The slayer showed confusion. She’d checked all the A’s. Been through half the dictionary.
“Angel… uh,” she pulled back the phone, went straight to ‘M’. Passed it back to Faith with a look of pleading. “Okay?”
And Faith couldn’t help but smile when she looked down at the words. “Cute Cor, cute.” But she didn’t rib her, or embarrass her. That could come later. For now she needed some help. Business help.
“Hey Angel, no it’s not Cordy… Uh-huh… Yeah, I need some info.”
The gang looked on as she relayed the words. ‘Well of all evil.’ It sounded kinda… spooky, but not… too spooky. It wasn’t like a huge great monstrous beast bursting out from the depths of a well. That would be bad. No. It was just a well. Something they could put a lid on. Really. Not so bad.
And then they watched the silence. Heard the quiet sighs and lack of laughter in the words. It made them think more spooky. Made them think that maybe Spike wasn’t just throwing them a curve. That it was big and bad. When Faith had taken a pen and started scrawling onto a pad of paper, then they knew that it was all of the above. A real threat.
“Yeah… I’ll call you back later, and really, thanks man. You’re a legend.” She clicked the phone closed and tossed it back to Cordy. Tried not to shake as she passed it.
“What did he say?”
“Easy B, I’m still making sense of it.” She took a steadying breath, a second to compose. “Angel said it’s true. There is a place… where demons go, he said he thinks he may have been there…”
“Been there?”
“Before B, when you… uh, vanquished him.” She watched as the other girl lived the moment again. Just quick. Flashes and gone. “He said he’s been doing research into it ever since, still not sure if it was true… and then he found a name.”
She passed the paper across to Buffy, saw her glance at it and pass it to Giles. “So he found a really long name, what’s it mean?”
“He said it’s Latin, that a monk centuries ago tried to open the portal, he believed that it wasn’t just a place… that it was an entity. Something solid… he called it uh… he said the translation was, ‘The leech full of monsters’, he thought that he could release it and then control it… control evil.”
“So what happened?”
“According to all that Angel could find, it swallowed the monk whole. He found a spell to open the portal… but he didn’t have the power to bring anything out… it sucked him in. More evil to add to the digestion.”
The room hushed for a moment, trying to make sense of the words being spoken.
“But I never heard that! I was a kick ass demon, and I never heard that!”
“I must concur with Anya, I’ve never heard of it being anything other than myth… certainly not an entity, or for that matter a… leech?”
“That’s what the big guy said, when the portal sucked the monk in, it just reinforced the belief that it was only a place… no one attempted to open it again… stories were forgot.” She shrugged her shoulders, she didn’t know either. “Angel said it’s only because it was personal that he searched so hard… he wanted to know if the threat was real.”
“And now he thinks it is?” Buffy was in her stride. Putting the captain’s hat on. This was a solid problem that they could deal with, a solid problem that they could fight.
“He found a prophesy…”
“Oh god, I told him if he keeps reading those he’ll go blind!”
“He didn’t listen Cor, he seems pretty sure on this one. He hoped he’d never see it happen… but now…” She looked back down at her notes, scrawled and almost unintelligible. Her hand had been shaking when she wrote them. The buzz was right. It felt right. Slayer senses in all their glory. It made her wonder if the dreams would start. “He said that if there was a time when one as evil as the monk tried to open the portal, and one powerful enough stood at their side… if that time came then the world would see. The well of evil would run over. The… monster leechy thing would suck everyone’s soul dry.”
“The wedding is going to be ruined isn’t it?”
They all stared to look at Anya. No one even believing her thought process. “This isn’t about the wedding An, this is that evil thing remember… the thing that we fight, all important?”
“Oh I know that Xander, I’m not an imbecile… I just, I wanted the perfect wedding.”
He didn’t scold her, didn’t let his friends scold her. He loved this here ex-demon with all of her little quirks. For her little quirks. “We will have the perfect wedding, we just need to tame the big bad leechy thing first, ok?” His kiss landed on her nose and reminded her of all the reasons that she wanted that perfect wedding in the first place.
“So now we all know that we have to save the world for the sake of the wedding! It’s a game plan, now what about real plans? Faith? Did he say anything else?”
“Not a thing B, he’s gonna dig out all his stuff, I’ll call him back later. Other than working the books this end… hell, that’s it. I’m out.” She shrugged her shoulders again. At least it was something.
“Well research we can do, I have some ancient Latin scripts stored in the attic…” Giles turned his attention to Xander. “…maybe you could get them down?”
“No problem, I go from carrying cakes, to fetching books… as promotions go, I’m looking for the pay rise!”
And he did rise, happy to have a task, a focus. All of them happy to have a task. So into it in fact that they almost forgot about the corpse on the sofa. The smell reminded them. “Spike, thank you for the information. Now don’t you have places to be?”
The vampire pretended at shock at the words. “Well that’s bloody great! I help you out ‘again’, even though I just took a beating from the new girl…” He didn’t dare cast his eyes to her though. Not yet. Soon. “…and now you’re turfing me out?”
“It seems like the decent thing to do… perhaps you need me to show you the door?”
Giles had soaked up the tension in the room, seen where much of the problem lay. When Buffy had told him about Spike, he had been… shocked? Devastated? He could see the same on all of his charges faces. It made him want to eject the evil. To bring the house back under order. And perhaps everyone had sighed a sound of relief when the evil had left without cursing, no more fuel added to the fire of hatred that was already burning his way.
And then it settled some. Not relief. The division was still there. Friends avoiding eyes because of betrayal, mistrust. The doom and gloom of the situation allowed to take a hold because no one could find the humour to release it. To overcome it. Giles looked at them and wondered at what had happened. How so much could have gone so wrong and so fast. Had he missed the signs before he had left? Had he ignored them?
“Man, this is so damn full of crap!”
“Huh?” They all turned to look at Faith, startled from their own researching.
“Ok, I get that this is bad, that this is gonna be a biggy… but god, I am so sick of this bullshit.” She tossed the book to the side, a petulant look on her face. A slump in her shoulders. “Can’t we take a break? It’s not late, can’t we go dance some… do something, anything?”
“Faith, the research is important…”
“You don’t need to tell me that Giles, I get that. But fuck, look at us..? Do any of us look up to fighting evil?” She cast her own glance around with his. Everyone was wasted, the private traumas rising up to coat the already stale task of research in nothing but pointlessness. No freshness for the fight.
“I could do with a break, I think it’s a great plan, nice one Faith!”
“Thanks Anya, anyone else? A little R and R?”
Willow’s eyes forgot the words swimming in front of her. Desperate to cling to something else. Something fun. “R and R, Faith? Is that similar to the H and H?”
And it did make those in the know laugh a little. Maybe a chuckle. A little lighter, a little airier. Easier to breathe. “Not quite Red, but if ya wanted I could show ya…” The wiggle of her brow always perfect for sliding the meanings home. “…maybe ALL the letters of the alphabet.”
“Sounds like fun!” They turned to Buffy then, maybe gawping a little, cos it kinda sounded… after Faith’s words… well it sounded. “Oh! Guys… not like that, I mean getting out… for a while, a little break. Not that!”
And even though they were pissed at her it was still kind of funny. Still vintage Buffy. The one that they had been missing. It rose the buzz of the room away from the evil, eyes not afraid to look anymore, not afraid to see. Giles understood too, saw where bridges could be rebuilt.
“I can see that the quest for knowledge has lost against the quest for fun, go on… all of you. Two hours, enjoy it.”
“No way dude, this is your welcome back gig, and you’re not missing the party!” Faith was clinging onto the sudden feeling of light, a sense that there could still be some fun left. She also knew the need for bridges, how much these friends relied upon each other. If Angel did indeed speak the truth of what they faced, then fun times were gonna go missing for a while. The time to heal some. No. They needed this, all of them, and Giles was a part of that. Plus… she had some words to say there. Not business words. But important ones all the same. She was just waiting for her place to. A time to.
Dusty tomes were laid aside with easy glee. Like naughty school children sneaking off for one last moment of pleasure before the real task started. Before the big bad came. Because it didn’t matter how much they smiled at each other. How much they sought to reassure each other. Big bad WAS coming.
The vampire that stalked them from the bushes was sure of that. Things were changing in Sunnydale. Power was shifting, and he was determined that he would get his very own share of power back. He felt invincible. It wasn’t just a bedtime story. Daft fools. And the sooner that they understood the fear then the sooner that he could strike. They had to understand how bad it was, how big it was… had to be in position to do what was needed.
He watched them go into the club. He watched Buffy. His plans may have changed about how he would get her, but get her he would. For every door closed, another one opens. Only this time it was a portal. And he was gonna fetch the key.
It seemed just a little favour in return for the chip.
He turned away as he lit his smoke, followed his nose to the centre of the evil. Plans had been set in motion, his first half of the bargain was complete, and now he wanted to collect. He was sure that his head demanded it.
...continued in chapter 21...