Why? Chapter 1, a buffy: the vampire slayer fanfic

Why?

A Buffy the Vampire Slayer fanfiction

AN: This story is told through the perspective of Faith, and up until the events of this story, it's all pretty much the same as the actual tv show, though I will be taking SOME creative license, and some things may be unintentionally different, due to it being a while since I've seen this part of the series. It starts off on whichever episode it was where Faith switched bodies with Buffy.

Chapter 1...

I'm standing outside Buffy's house, hesitating. I have... some type of machine in my hand. The Mayor had given it to me as some sort of final request. Basically, from what I understand, assuming I understood his perfectly vague explanation at all, it'll allow B and me to switch bodies. Then, B'll take the fall for my actions in my body. She'll get punished by the Watchers for killing a human, and probably get sent to prison in my place, while I get to live her life. I just have to lay low and do what B would probably do, 'cause I am not going to jail.

I know what I ned to do. It's me or her, and it sure as Hell ain't gonna be me, so it's gotta be her. So why am I hesitating?

I don't know, but I got a funny feeling that something major is about to happen, only it's gonna be something that I don't like.

I push those thoughts aside and enter Buffy's house, hopefully for the last time as myself. I find B's mom and tie her up, laying her down upstairs in... someone's room. I don't pay attention to whose room it is, I just pick one.

I sit down in a chair and dig through the person's makeup. I think it's Ms. Summers'. I talk to Ms. Summers while I apply some lipstick. I sit down again, waiting for B to show up, 'cause I know she will soon, and, knowing her, it'll be with flair.

Sure enough, she comes crashing through the window behind me. There's a short exchange of words, but then we fight. We fight for a long time, both of us evenly matched. I make it seem like I'm just toying with her, but I'm beginning to doubt that I can actually beat her.

Finally, we end up at the fireplace, and I manage to slip on the contraption. I gloat a bit, and slam our hands together, expecting to end up in Buffy's body and knock myself out before I know what happened, but I hit her hand too hard, and the device is crushed. Suddenly, the look in B's eye changes to an almost sadistic and... evil look.

She punches me in the gut, and I double over. Since when does B hit that hard, and in the gut? She grabs me by the hair and lifts me up. I'm too surprised to resist. She slams her fist into my face a few times, and I can feel the blood pouring from my nose, several of my teeth are knocked loose, and my eyes begin to swell shut. How could Buffy beat me so utterly? I know how she fights, I've fought alongside her for quite awhile, and even thought I was somewhat surprised when she thrusted a knife into my gut, it still kinda fit what I knew about her style. This... this was not Buffy.

This was NOT how Buffy fought, and no one can simply change their entire style with nothing more than a twitch of their nose. Something went wrong. Buffy isn't just beating me, she's wailing on me.

She picks me up by the throat and slams me down on the floor, hard, never letting go. I feel the air rush out of my lungs, and I find it hard to breathe. She's choking me, I can't breathe. She lets go just before I pass out. I can't move, I'm at her mercy, and I get the feeling she's not feeling very merciful.

I manage to open one eye slightly and see her hovering only inches away from my face, and the bitch is smiling. And it's not a false smile, only put on to piss me off. It's like she's actually getting off on seeing me like this, battered and broken. And I realize she actually is getting off on it when she bends down and pries my mouth open with her tongue and invades my mouth, mapping every single crevice. I can't resist it, I can't fight her off, I'm in too much pain.

My shirt and leather jacket are torn off of me, followed by my pants and boots. Ididn't have time to put anything else on before coming here, I'm totally bare and exposed. She grabs my chest and squeezes, hard, not sparing any strength.

I'm not aroused, I feel no pleasure, only pain as she touches me, squeezes me, stabs at me everywhere. The feelings and sensations I'd attached to sex were completely absent. Every touch from her stings me, burns me, kills me.

I, Faith Lehane, was NOT made to be somebody's bitch. I was NOT supposed to be the one on bottom. I was NOT supposed to be so helpless. And who would help me, even if they could? For fuck's sake, I KILLED people. I killed PEOPLE! I fucked up everyone's life, including my own, and I betrayed the only thing close to a family I'd ever had. I wasn't even supposed to exist. Not with Buffy being the Slayer. Only one at a time, yet there are now two. And one of them is being raped. And the other one is doing the raping. And if I'd ever thought things would have ended up like this, I'd have thought I'd have been where Buffy is now. Not because I was attracted to her or anything, but because of the feeling of total control over her it would give me, to know that I was, once and for all, the superior Slayer, and I could do whatever the Hell I wanted to her, and she couldn't do shit about it.

Buffy can kill me cold-blooded right now, if she wants. And I know that the reason she doesn't isn't because it would be wrong, or because she doesn't have it in her to take another life, even one as shitty as mine, but because this gives her so much more control than killing me.

"Please..." I manage to say dryly. "Stop... Kill me..."

"No. I don't think so." Is all Buffy says.

I can feel her all over me, on the outside, and on the inside. There's nowhere that Buffy hasn't left her mark. She toys with me for hours, obviously having forgotten about her mom. Or perhaps she hasn't forgotten, she just doesn't care.

By the time she gets bored, I'm screaming on the inside, begging to be set free, begging for mercy, begging for death. She grabs a knife and is about to kill me when she sees something outside. She curses, then drops the knife. She puts what's left of my clothes back on my body and escorts a team of Watchers, followed by Giles inside.

"I don't think she'll be able to put up much of a fight, Giles. I beat her pretty badly." She says to Giles, so... nonchalantly, like it's something she does every day.' I'm lifted into the air by the Watchers and driven away in a black van. They stop eventually and the next thing I know, I'm staring down the barrel of an assault rifle.

"Sorry about this, Miss Lehane, but orders are orders... Actually, I'm not so sorry. You killed a human. And you were directly related to the deaths of multiple other humans at that Graduation Day catastrophe." I can hear the movement of his finger ashe draws back the trigger, and the gun clicks. I praise whatever deity there is up there that's taking pity on me and allowing me to die, but then realize the gun didn't go bang.

Why didn't it go "bang"?! I start to cry. I can't belive I'm crying. I don't cry. Why am I crying? The world is cruel, that's why. I killed people, many people, and I nearly got the only family I'd ever known killed, and then my plan to save myself backfires and I end up getting violated by the girl I'd considered my sister. Then, when I'm finally about to be punished, and I feel relief at that comforting fact, it's cruelly snatched away from me by some idiot who forgot to turn the safety off.

"Damn it!" The gun-guy cursed under his breath, and he turns the safety off right as his phone rings. He answers it and heads outside so he can take the call.

He comes back and gives me the news. The news I never thought I'd get. The news I'd hoped for, but never knew that I was actually hoping I never got.

"Well, Miss Lehane, looks like there's been a change of plans. Due to the persistence of your... friend... Rupert Giles, the council has cancelled the order that you be executed for yor crimes. Instead, you'll be put on trial and the results of the hearing will determine what happens next."

I start weeping, every inch I shake sending pain coursing through my body, but I don't care about the pain. I just want it all to end, but it won't.

"Yeah, I know. I'll bet you're relieved. Lucky bitch. I really wanted to put a bullet in your brain. You know, one of my cousins had a kid going to school here. She died because of you and your beloved mayor's whole Graduation Day fiasco."

I cry and cry and cry, and finally I fall into unconsciousness. My dreams are not dreams. They're nightmares.

Once more, I can feel Buffy's despicable touch. I feel her strength crushing me from the inside out. I see the look of contempt in her eyes as she forces her fingers in and out of me. I can feel her saliva on every inch of my skin, and she rubs it in, then does it all over again. I feel her force my mouth open and push her tongue as far down my throat as she can. I feel her push her fingers into my mouth, then close my lips around them as she pulls out, leaving her juices on my tongue after she climaxed. Her juices taste like sewage, which was not even close to how dirty I feel. I can feel the pain again of the beating I took, and the events that followed.

I wake up, and I can still feel it all. I'm in a comfortable bed with silk sheets, and sunlight is streaming in through the curtains. Outside, I can hear birds chirping. You know those scenes on TV where everything is perfect and right in the world, and how everything seems more cheerful? That's what this was like, and it angered me. It wasn't fair! How come whenever Buffy or Xander or Red or any of the Scoobies are sad, or angry, or just in a messed-up state of mind, they get the dark skies and rain and thunder and lightning, so the whole world is in the same state of mind as them? The world empathizes with them. And yet, when I'm broken physically, mentally and emotionally, I get sunndy days and bird chirps and children playing outside.

I hear the playful screams of the children, and my head is pounding.

I can't sit up. I can't move. I'm not restrained, but the pain I'm still in is restraint enough.

Giles walks in and brings me breakfast. Sausage, scrambled eggs, bacon, biscuits, gravy, and a nice cup of coffee. Why? He smiles at me and says I've been through enough. Why?

He tells me to relax, and turns on the TV. It's one of those badass Steven Seagal movies he knows I like. Why? He tells me to lie still and sty as comfortable as I can, and he feeds me my breakfast. Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?

WHY?!

When I'm finished with my breakfast, he has me take some melatonin, to help me sleep. I don't want to sleep, because of the dreams, but I realize that I need to sleep if my body is to heal. I rest, and I have the nightmare again.

I wake up and it's the afternoon. I feel a raw steak on my face, and the swelling has gone down. I'm not in as much pain, though the pain is still there. And I doubt the scars will never fade, though the ones on my body will, with time.

Giles picks me up and carries me to the bathroom. He turns on the water. Lukewarm. Not hot, not cold. Why? He calls to someone, and Red comes in. At first, I think she's going to kill me, and I feel relieved again, but then I see the sympathetic look on her face, and my hopes fade again. And I cry again. Giles leaves Willow and me alone, and she asks my permission. I know what she's asking me about, and all I can do is nod. She slowly and carefully undresses me and sets me in the water. She washes me with the care of a woman in love with another woman. I don't think that she might be gay. All I can think of is the fact that I'm finally being treated with kindness, and all I want to do is die.

She rinses me off, dries me off, and wraps me up in a towel, then carries me back to the bed. Why? Does she know what happened? Is that why everyone's being nice to me? Because I'm a rape victim?!

Finally, I find my voice, though it's hoarse, and it hurts to talk.

"Stop it! Stop being so nice to me! I tried to kill you! I fucking tried to kill you! I killed people! Humans! Teenagers! I tried to kill Buffy, Xander, Giles, you! I tried to kill you all! Stop being nice to me! Punish me! Kill me!" Willow slowly backed up against the wall, and Giles came running.

"Faith..." He warned, but I didn't care.

"Turn off this sun! Put on the storm clouds! I want rain, and thunder, and lightning! I want everyone to know what I feel! I want Buffy to feel what she fucking did to me!" I'm sobbing as I speak again, and Giles and WIllow look at each other. They didn't know. I didn't answer the unspoken question: what do you mean? Instead, I just curl up into a ball and sob. I feel Giles and Willow sit on either side of me and hug me like I'm part of the family again.

They don't understand. I don't want sympathy. I don't want care, or affection, or a beautiful day, or bird songs, or Steven Seagal, or breakfast in bed, or a bath, or a comfy bed, or a nice room, or to relax. I just want one thing: death.

Well, this is my first attempt of a story like this, so go easy on the flames, please! I'd like some reviews, though. Also, the idea for this story actually came from a challenge by another writer called Cotto. Anyway, please review!