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