No Exit
by Ophelia C.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I own nothing… at all. All Buffy & Angel characters
belong to Joss & Co. The title is from a one-act play by Jean-Paul
Sarte.
Spoilers: Everything up to "The Gift", but with a different ending.
Note: I was finishing up "Chance in Hell" and found this. It was a
sequel I was working on for "Finding the Sun", but I can't remember
where I was going with it. Even though it's pointless and probably
really inaccurate, I'm kinda proud of it, so I decided to post it.
It's really short, but I hope you enjoy it.
"I will make nothing better by crying, I will make nothing
worse by giving myself what entertainment I can."
-Archilochus (Greek Lyrics)
May 23, 2001
This will be my last entry, as I no longer have a Slayer to train. The battle was long and hard, and in the end, the sacrifices were too great. Buffy has quit the council, as she swore she would if any harm came to Dawn. Sadly, she was lost to us. Buffy was held back from the platform for too long. The gateway was opened, and Dawn bled to death.
Buffy hasn't spoken since she removed Dawn's body from the tower, but I can see in her eyes that she has given up. And I feel that we are doomed because of it. The world is overrun with demons and hell beasts, which are causing death and destruction at every turn. Hopefully, none will rise to supreme power, instead fighting among themselves. However, no matter what the outcome, I know that Dawn will not be the last loved one we lose.
Faith shot awake with a gasp. Her breathing was ragged and she was covered in sweat, trying to remember just exactly what her dream was about. But her dream was quickly forgotten as the alarm loudly sounded. Focusing on her cell door, she realized it was wide open and, judging by the lack of sag in the mattress of the top bunk, her cellmate was gone.
Standing, she cautiously made her way to the cell's opening, but stopped short when a bloodied prisoner ran past. Taking a deep breath, she walked out into the hallway, not believing what she saw.
All of the cells were open, and the only prisoners in sight were dead, lying in bloody pools on the dirty floor. In the open area of the first floor, Faith could see the gory battle between the prisoners, the guards, and several demons. There were broken bodies littering the prison, the walls splattered with blood. The air was filled with the sound of screams and gunfire.
Faith knew what it meant. Since her experience with K.B. and what could've been, she'd stayed in constant contact with Buffy. It all started with that first visit from the blonde. Apparently, Buffy had had a similar experience, seeing her life with Faith as it might have happened, had circumstances been different. The two of them had reconciled their differences, apologizing to and forgiving each other, each wanting a taste of the happiness they had found in their other life. They established a new friendship after that, keeping in touch with letters and random visits from Buffy. She would tell Faith about the goings-on in Sunnydale, trying to keep the brunette in touch with the outside world. Buffy told Faith about Riley, Dawn, her mother, Glory, the situation with her sister being the Key, and everything involved with that. So Faith knew. She knew that the good guys had lost. And she knew she had to get to Sunnydale, and find out if Buffy was still alive.
With a firm resolve, Faith quickly slipped into "Slayer mode" and made her way out of her cell and down the hall to the guards' weapon room. The door was usually locked tight, but Faith was counting on their fear and need for quick response to result in an open door. And she happened to be right. She made her way into the room with no trouble.
Looking around, she grabbed the first sawed off shotgun she saw. On the shelf below it, she found several boxes of shells. Grabbing a small, strapped bag, she emptied two of the boxes, quickly filling up the bag. Then she loaded up the shotgun, fitting in five rounds, since the plug was gone. Looking further into the room, she saw the body of a dead guard, with a gunshot wound to the head. It looked to be self-inflicted. Knowing there was nothing she could have done, she grabbed the .45 he had dropped and an extra clip from his belt. Making sure the gun was only missing one bullet, she moved to the doorway. Checking to make sure the coast was clear, she quietly left the room and moved to the edge of the barrier that surrounded the hall of the second floor. Peeking over the top, which was about waist-level when standing, she could see into the open area of the first floor.
She scanned quickly, looking for the best shot. There were five demons left, standing at about 7 feet tall, with broad shoulders, heavy builds, and long teeth. Most of them were busy with three or four guards, but a couple had several prisoners on them as well. Suddenly, one of the demons turned on their attackers, in an attempt to back them into the corner. This put his back to Faith, who took the opportunity to fire a shot at the base of his skull. Seeing him start to fall, she ducked down behind the barrier before anybody could see where the shot had come from.
She knew the shot hadn't killed him, but hopefully it would incapacitate him enough to give the guards and prisoners a better chance with him. Taking a deep breath, she rose up and took another shot, hitting another demon in the leg. Not satisfied, she fired once more to hit him in the other leg, bringing him down to his knees.
Ducking again, she tried to calm herself down, her instincts telling her to fight, but also telling her to run. "Three demons left. Four shots left," she whispered to herself. She went up again, firing all four shots. One demon took a shot in the back, another took two shots in the chest, and the last took a shot to the forehead.
Reloading the .45, she slung the shell-filled bag over her shoulder, grabbed the shotgun, and took off for the exit.
"Hello?" Faith called out to the empty room one last time. She had been all around the first floor of the hotel and still found no sign of Angel or the others. She knew she had the right hotel. Angel had told her about this place on one of his visits, and had given her the address, should an emergency come up. Faith had memorized the address, knowing that if an emergency *did* come up, she might not have time to grab the paper.
Sighing, she walked over to one of the desks and put the shotgun and bag down. She had ditched the .45 about a block away, after firing the last round. Grabbing a blank sheet of paper and a pen, she quickly scribbled a note before collecting her things and walking out the door.
After leaving, she snuck down the street, sticking to the shadows, until she came to a clothing store. The front window was smashed and the place looked deserted. Running in, she quickly grabbed a black t-shirt, black cargo pants, a black belt, and hiking boots. Even though it was her favorite color, she was going more for practicality. The cargo pants had more pockets, the boots would hold up to more, and the black would help her blend in to shadows. Quickly changing, she found the pants to be a little big, but didn't care as long as the belt held them up.
She was about to leave the store when she saw a backpack on the checkout counter. Grabbing it, she threw in another pair of pants, two more shirts, and the bag of shells. Then she slung the bag over her shoulder, grabbed the shotgun, and walked out.
Across the street, she found an abandoned motorcycle. Making her way over, she looked at it, trying to recall the things she learned when she was younger. Quickly, she hotwired the hog and pulled out into the street, backpack slung from both shoulders and her shotgun slipped into the open saddlebag. "Just like riding a bicycle," she said to herself before gunning the engine and flying down the street.
Faith arrived in Sunnydale about 2 hours later. She had come across a few car wrecks, but she ran past them quickly, dead-set on reaching her destination as quickly as possible. Seeing the "Welcome to Sunnydale" sign, Faith gunned the engine, giving the bike just a little more power. She didn't slow down until she turned onto Revello Drive, easing the bike to a stop in front of Buffy's house.
Climbing off the motorcycle, she looked up at the building, which was cloaked in darkness. As far as she could tell, there weren't any lights on inside, no signs of life at all. Walking up to the door, she tried to open it, but found it locked. Quickly, she walked around the side of the house to the tree under Buffy's window. With a sigh, Faith hoisted herself up into the tree, swinging from limb to limb until she got right up to the window. Reaching over, she opened the window, quietly letting herself in.
Turning on the bedside lamp, she wasn't surprised to find the bedroom empty. Faith had a pretty good idea of where Buffy was, and she let her feet lead her out of the room and to the closed door she knew the blonde Slayer was behind. Opening the door, Faith walked into the dark bedroom, Dawn's bedroom. On the bed, she could make out Buffy's small figure, softly crying in her sleep.
Faith felt her heart break at the sight. She had loved Dawn like a sister, and she had refused to acknowledge that the worst had happened. But seeing Buffy like this finally made her accept that Dawn was gone. Pushing her pain aside, Faith climbed into the bed behind Buffy and took the smaller girl in her arms. She was afraid that Buffy would pull away, but instead, she buried herself deeper into Faith's embrace.
"Dawn," she sobbed, clinging to Faith. "Oh God, Dawn. I'm so sorry."
Fighting back her emotions, Faith kissed Buffy lightly on the top of the head, trying to comfort the blonde. "Shh, B. There was nothing you could've done. It wasn't your fault."
"It should have been me," she whispered.
"No!" Faith pulled away, looking Buffy in the eyes, making sure she had the blonde's full attention. "Don't say that. It…" She stopped, her voice catching in her throat. "Don't say that," she repeated quietly. "I'm sorry about Dawn. I'm so sorry. But we need you. The world needs you." Her voice cracked, her last statement barely audible. "I need you." But Buffy heard her.
In response, Buffy burrowed herself back into Faith's arms. "I need you, too," she whispered, tightly wrapping her arms around Faith's waist.
"Promise you won't leave me. I know it hurts, but promise you won't leave." Faith couldn't hold the tears in anymore as they slowly rolled down her cheeks.
Buffy choked back a sob. "I promise."
Eventually, both of them drifted off into a restless sleep.
The first thing Buffy was aware of the soothing strokes through her hair, then the hard body beneath hers, and finally the sunlight filtering through the window. Lifting her head, she looked up into Faith's eyes, the brunette's expression unreadable.
"Are you okay?" Faith's voice was quiet, barely a whisper.
Buffy shook her head before taking a deep breath. "I don't think I'll ever be okay."
Faith silently watched Buffy, still stroking her hair. She looked away for a moment before speaking. "I know. But… Sitting around here? Leaving the world to fight for itself? That's not going to change anything. People out there… they still need us. Both of us."
Angrily, Buffy stood up and walked to the opposite side of the room, Faith hot on her heels. "Fuck the world!" She screamed with everything she had in her. All the hurt, the pain, the loneliness, it all came out in that one statement. "I've done as much as I could do for this damn world, and what has it given me? A whole lot of nothing. And it took my mother… and my little sister. So why should I care what the world needs?"
"'Ours is not to reason why. Ours is but to do and die.' I forgot that, and it put me in a dark place. Don't let that happen to you. Don't forget why we were put here." As Faith spoke, she forcefully backed Buffy into a corner, trying to get the upper hand before it was needed.
"Well, I don't want to 'do and die'! Let the other people try it for a while. I'm sick of it. I'm sick of sacrifice after sacrifice." Buffy was fighting back the tears, determined to hold onto her anger.
"I know," Faith said softly, gently putting her hands on Buffy's upper arms. "I know you are. But we can't change who we are. You can't stop 'fightin' the good fight' anymore than I can help that I was born in Boston."
Buffy looked at her incredulously. "What has Boston got to do with anything?"
Faith smiled internally, happy to see that Buffy was listening to her. "Boston is a part of me. A part of my past, but still a part of me. Everything that happened back there made me who I am today. The good and the bad. It's the same for you. Bein' a good guy is a part of you. Saving the world is a part of you. You can't deny that. You can't stand there and tell me that there isn't some part of you that is feeling guilty as hell for lockin' yourself up in here. Can you honestly look me in the eyes and say that?"
Buffy looked away, but Faith reached out and turned her head so that their eyes were locked.
"I'm sorry about Dawn. She was a great kid who didn't deserve what happened to her. But that was the path she had to take. And as wrong as it is, the world did not stop turning just because she's gone. Life is still out there. And that's the path you have to take." Faith saw the tears start to roll down Buffy's cheeks, and she knew that she was almost through the walls she had put up. "Crying won't bring her back," she said softly. "Nothing will. No matter how many people you save, Dawn's not coming back. But it doesn't mean that it doesn't matter. Don't let her death be for nothing. Don't let this world go to hell in a hand basket."
With a loud sob, Buffy collapsed into Faith, who strongly caught her, slowly lowering them both to the floor.
May 24, 2001
Dawn Summers died May 22, 2001. She was 15 years old, and is survived by her sister, Buffy Summers, 21, and the world she saved. She was loved by all that knew her. She will never be forgotten. She was strong. She was caring. She was real.
Hearing the shower cut off, Faith quietly put Dawn's journal and pen back on the nightstand and left the room, making her way to Buffy's room. She didn't know if anyone would ever read the entry, but she felt it had to be said. It had to be put down, somewhere permanent, so that when she and Buffy and the Scoobies were gone, there would still be some way for others to know the truth.
Buffy walked into her room, dressed with her wet hair up in a ponytail, to find Faith sitting on her bed with a faraway look on her face. "What are you thinking?" She asked quietly.
'How long will it be before we're both dead?' Faith looked up at Buffy, memorizing every detail of the woman she loved. "Nothing," she replied before looking away.
"Well," Buffy said, letting the matter drop, "I called Giles before my shower and told him to get the others together and over here. Needless to say, he was surprised to hear from me."
Nodding, Faith stood up. "I bet he was." She could see the doubt, the pain, and the grief start to cloud Buffy's eyes again, and she took a step towards her, making eye contact with the blonde. "We'll get everyone of those demon fuckers. I promise. We'll make things like they were."
Buffy nodded, leaning into Faith, who tightly put her arms around the older girl. They remained like that until the doorbell rang.