Title: Death Becomes You

Author: Sileas

Rating: PG-13, language (it is Faith's mind,so…)

Disclaimers: It all belongs to Joss and Mutant Enemy, he's the genius, not me.

Spoilers: End of season 5, beginning of season 6

Summary: Faith is let out of jail after Buffy's death

Feedback: I live for the stuff

Author's Note: This was the first point of view fic I ever wrote. Originally I switched tenses a lot (not a good thing to do), but I think I've fixed them all. If you catch somewhere where I go into past tense, and I'm not supposed to; please, do tell.

I've been driving for what seems to be an eternity now, Goddamn California roads are hell: traffic, heat, desert, and palm trees. Fuckin' palm trees, what a sorry lame-ass excuse for a tree, but they don't seem to get enough of them here. I guess it's a nice change from the iron bars though. Somehow I'd always imagined that freedom would feel more… I don't know…free! Don't get me wrong, I'm glad I finally got out of that nice little jail cell of mine, but going right back to that place where I had been imprisoned for eight months inside my own head, which is not exactly a nice little summer home to go to escape from reality, is not what I had in mind.

I'm not even sure why I agreed to come here in the first place. Oh, that's right: I'm a moth and SunnyD here is the big ass flame that I'm oddly attracted to, even though I know that coming here is almost certain death, I keep coming back for more like I can't get enough of the pain. Maybe there's a self help group for people like me, like Masochists Anonymous or some shit: I'm Faith and I have a problem. Most people think that I'm a sadist, but that ain't the truth, I was just giving back the pain that I'd been getting for the last two decades. You know what they say, revenge is sweet. And I think I was denied sweets in my childhood; my mom probably couldn't buy me any 'cause she was spending it all on her booze and drugs. Apparently the reason that I'm so fucked up now is 'cause I was denied lots of stuff when I was a kid—a father, among other things. Or at least that's what the shrink seemed to think. Yeah, that's right—Faith, the person that won't talk to anyone about anything, was sent to see the shrink while in jail 'cause apparently I'm 'mentally unstable'. No shit! And we pay these people to state the obvious—well, I don't, but you get the idea.

I pass the 'Welcome to Sunnydale' sign and I'm suddenly brought back to reality, and I'm thinking it may have given me whiplash.

Shit this place has gone to hell! Well… maybe not the best phrase to use in a place like this. Or, maybe it is. I mean, I wreaked pretty wicked havoc here a number of times in my day, but nothing like this. It looks like the fucking apocalypse has finally come, and maybe it has. That's why Angel & Co. sent me up here, right? To help take over for…

And now it finally sinks in. Wes had helped free me from prison 'cause Buffy was dead and there was no one left to protect Sunnydale from demons. I had cried for hours when Wes told me, cried until there wasn't a single tear left in me—which is really saying something, 'cause I don't think I'd ever cried before. I had been in a state of severe depression for over two months; I hadn't been able to escape until recently 'cause I was basically catatonic, I couldn't do anything. But now I realize that I had been in denial all summer as well. I had kept hoping that maybe Buffy was still alive, that this was all just some disgusting joke that Wes was playing to get back at me. But it wasn't, and I get that now.

The tears start streaming down my face, I've tried so hard to keep them in, but I can't stop them now. The realization of what's happening, of what had happened, is too much. The one person in the world that I cared for in any way, the one person I could forgive and the one person I wanted to have forgiveness from, is dead. Me and B were the only ones who could understand each other—our situation, our pain, our fear, our… our everything. It had always been 'us', never 'me' or 'you', just 'us'. We shared so much, but no one really got that. Everyone, even Wilkins, always thought that I had hated B 'cause I could only be second best to her. But that wasn't really true—we were the Chosen Two, and I was happy with that. As long as she was the other one of the Chosen Two, I was completely satisfied.

And then another reality jolt hit me—for the last three years all I had been was one of the Chosen Two. I may have been completely satisfied with that idea, but that's all I had ever been, one of the Chosen Two. Buffy had been a Chosen One for a while, but I never got that. I had never had the experience of being a Chosen One.

Sorry, the brain isn't working the greatest at the moment—maybe now that I've driven the whole one/two bit home, I should clarify why the whole Chosen One thing is problem. All my experience as a Slayer has been a one of the Chosen Two, but I think you got that part now. The problem is, even with the whole 'bad ass Slayer, doesn't play well with others' show I've always put on, I've always worked best with B. In fact, I've only really been a Slayer with Buffy there to lend support. Unless you count Boston, but I don't think I'll be putting that down as a contact on my Slayer's job application any time soon. The point is, I don't know how to be the only Slayer, and with all seriousness, I don't know if a can be the only Slayer.

Oh, great Faith, way to hype yourself up for this lovely confrontation you're about to have. You're second guessing yourself and your Slaying abilities right before you have to prove yourself in front of a bunch of people who haven't had faith in you or your Slaying abilities since you went to the 'dark side'. Oh goody, and now with the punning as well. Maybe that could be my new catch phrase—"just gotta have faith".

Now I'm running around in circles in my own head (like I haven't done that before), maybe I'm just not cut out for this. I was just a weakling before I met B—curled up in the corner, hoping that maybe I wouldn't get beaten too badly this time. I'm still that weakling, I'm nothing without B, never was, never will be.

Maybe Angel was wrong, maybe I'm not ready to come back yet. In all probability, jail might be a better place for me than here, most definitely much safer. What the fuck am I saying, I ain't never going back there, yo. But SunnyD's no place for me either. I'm just gonna get the hell outa Dodge, maybe head for Las Vegas or something, they've gotta need a Slayer there. I mean, c'mon, it's Vegas—tons of demons, right? But tons of palm trees, too. Goddamn palm trees. So, maybe not Vegas. But I gotta get out of here, wherever I go, I don't care, just away from Sunnydale. Too many memories here, good and bad—even if I could pull off the lone Slayer act, just the thought of being here without B, of taking over her town, it's just too much.

I pull into a driveway so I can turn around and get the fuck out of this hell hole, but I look up and… ah, fuck! Of all the houses in this piece of shit town that I could've pulled up to, it had to be hers. This entire time I've had my mind on other things, and it's like it kicked into auto pilot and knew that B's house was the destination. Just my luck, right? Oh, I remember now—Sunnydale, flame; Faith, moth. I was just hoping that with B gone, it wouldn't be so fuckin' bright anymore. It's not like Sunnydale lights my candle, so to speak, hell, there's plenty of places on this earth that can cause me just as much pain and agony as here. It was B that pulled me here time and time again; no matter how hard I try to resist, I'm always drawn to her.

I hit my forehead on the top of the steering wheel a couple of times before resting it there, and put the car in park. I don't turn off the engine yet, as I'm not really sure that I'm doing something stupid by going to her house. But hey, I'm Faith right? Doing the stupid thing is what I'm famous for, so I figure, what the hell. Finally, I turn off the car and get out. As I look up at the house I notice that a light's on and I see someone in the room. Probably watching me trying to figure out who the hell I am and what I'm doing. Good question actually. Then the person leaves, so I walk to the door, slowly, still not sure if I'm doing the right thing.

I'm at the door, thinking about knocking or maybe ringing the door bell but not actually doing either, when it opens; and there's Dawn. I can tell that she'd been crying, just like me, but she's smiling slightly, trying to act tough.

"Faith, I'm so glad you're here," she says and starts crying again.

Then she throws her arms around me and hugs me tightly, like if she ever let go I'd disappear. Not sure what I ever did to deserve such a warm welcome from her, I just pat her back gently. "Me too, Dawnie, me too."

"Dawnie, who are you talking to?" I hear Red ask, worried, as she comes around the corner. "Who's there?"

Then she stops, realizing it's me. Even though I can't actually see her- Dawn has stood back up and is blocking the doorway- I can just feel her bitter gaze. You know, the one she always has, just for little ol' me.

"Hi Willow," I say softly as Dawn goes back inside. I figure since she was giving me the death stare, maybe I could save the nicknames for later.

"What are you doing here?"

"Angel sent me. He said that you needed help here, since Buffy's…" I trail off, getting too choked up to finish that sentence. And I don't want to say it, saying it out loud will mean it's true and that I can't keep believing it's not.

"Oh, you think he'd at least call," she says, still trying to sound bitter, but I can tell by the look on her face that she realizes I'm really hurting.

"So, can I come in?"

"Yeah, I guess. But, well, the thing is…" the witch stammers, like she's trying to find the best way to tell me something horrible.

She opens her mouth to start again but closes it as someone else starts coming down the stairs.

"What's going on…" it stops, but I recognized that voice. I would have recognized it anywhere, I just never thought that I'd hear it again. I look up hopefully, but my eyes think that I'm seeing a ghost. "Faith?"

"Oh God, Buffy, you're alive," I say as I run up the stairs and hug her tightly, the same way that Dawn had hugged me moments before.

I look into her eyes and see that they were completely emotionless, like something had sucked everything out of her. But then again she had died, right? What else should I have expected?

I have this strange urge to pull some wise-crack like I usually do, you know something like- "damn B! Death becomes you!"- but I just can't do it. Plus, she isn't looking the greatest at the moment, not that there will ever really be a time when she'll look bad.

I feel like I'm gonna start crying again, I have to think of something fast, before I break down.

"I missed you so much Buffy," I say, holding onto her again. This time she puts her arms around me too and I start sobbing into her shoulder anyway. Can't say I didn't try.

It takes about a minute for me to finally pull myself back together and look back into her eyes. There's emotion in her eyes now, unfortunately it's sadness. So I do the Faith thing:

"B, if you ever try to die on me again, I'm gonna have to kill you."

That got a little smile outta her. Hey, you have to start somewhere.