There was something to be said for being a convicted and justly-imprisoned felon, Faith thought idly as she sat down to a platter with grilled chicken, mashed potatoes, a cup of water, and a plastic spork. This half-hour span of time starting at twelve-thirty in the afternoon, and two others like it starting each at seven o'clock in the morning and at six o'clock in the evening were the highlights of Faith Lehane's day, just as they had been every day for the past fourteen months. The items on the tray might vary from day to day and from meal to meal, but the certainty that there would even be a meal… That was something precious.
Faith knew with unshakeable certainty that vampires, demons, and monsters were real things in this world she lived in, but it was the other ones that she didn't know about: gods and angels and someone or something in someplace that might be called a heaven that could offer forgiveness and absolution. Faith was of mixed opinions about such things. On the one hand, she wanted such things to exist. There had to be some point to atoning, to repenting, to serving her time. On the other hand, Faith doubted whether or not she deserved forgiveness. Doctor Newman – her mandatory therapist – kept telling Faith that she needed to forgive herself before she would be ready to accept it from anyone else, and if she was right, then Faith felt she might have a problem.
Not that it was ever likely to come up, as the people she needed to ask forgiveness from were either dead or else likely to try and kill Faith if they ever met again, save for Angel. Angel visited her from time to time on the rare nights when visitors were allowed after dark. In a smaller town, it might not ever happen, but plenty of people worked nights and slept during the days in Los Angeles, and not all of them demons. Faith would of course apologize to him for everything she'd done, and she did it every time she saw him, and every time Angel told her that she didn't need his forgiveness, but that he'd give it all the same to help her feel better.
Faith laughed at the irony. A vampire named 'Angel.' Now all she needed was to meet an angel named 'Vampire.' But alas, angels weren't real, or if they were, they were firmly in the category of 'things not seen,' the thought of which gave Faith another taste of bitter irony. If the Bible was to be believed, then 'faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen,' or so she had been told by the prison's resident priest. Ironic, then, that Faith didn't feel she could take anything on faith.
This was another benefit to prison. Faith had time to just do nothing and think. Not that she was ever going to be a great philosopher, but after all the slaying, all the killing, all the adventure and all the mayhem… Doing nothing had been strange at first, but Faith was just starting to find her equilibrium, as Doctor Newman called it.
And on that thought, Faith picked at her chicken with her spork until a small piece came off and she tucked it into her mouth to chew and savor. A few minutes went by as she finished her chicken. Faith did not get to start on her mashed potatoes, as one of the guards – a bald, handsome black man in his 40s, maybe? His name was Jeff – came over, keeping himself in Faith's line of sight, and gently tapped her on the shoulder. Faith was grateful that he let her see him coming. It had been a while, but early on, Faith would react to being touched from behind with a throw or a tackle or an elbow to the face. It was a reflex, of course, but the guards tended to frown on violence of any sort in the prison. "Lehane, you gotta come with me."
"What, right now?" Faith whined mildly. "Can I at least take the potatoes with me?"
Jeff shook his head. "Warden wants to see you. S'all I know. And before you ask, I don't think you did anything. I don't know what's going on or why. I'm just here to move you from point A to point B."
Faith sighed, but smiled all the same as she stood up. "Well, thanks for the vote of confidence, Jeff. Lead on."
Jeff led Faith through the halls and past a number of cells, past the visitation area and into the Warden's office. Donna St. Claire was built like a pro wrestler, but instead of the glamour of the WWE, she'd gone down the criminal psychology route and ended up warden of a women's prison with the luxury of being entirely unafraid of any of her wards. Faith could probably take her, but she had a Slayer's strength and stamina. And even then, Faith had seen Warden St. Claire break up a few fights, and while it was a joy to watch, the woman was not to be messed with.
With that thought in mind, Faith's guard came up as she saw the distinctly unhappy look on Donna St. Claire's face. "Do you mind telling me what this is all about, Lehane? I don't appreciate surprises like this," she said as she waved a clipboard in one hand as if it were a piece of incriminating evidence.
Faith didn't let her surprise show on her face, playing it cool. She had a reputation of her own to maintain. "Well, I wouldn't mind telling you, Warden, if I knew what any of 'this' is. All I know is that Jeff said you wanted to see me, and here I am now. So, what's up?"
The warden chuckled humorlessly. "'What's up,' Lehane, is that for some reason I cannot possibly hope to comprehend, as of right now, you are no longer my problem. This," she said, gesturing with the clipboard in her hand, "is a pardon, signed by the Governor of California. Faith Lehane, you are once again a free woman. I don't know who thought that putting a confessed murderer back on the streets was a good idea, but this is above my pay grade. Thankfully, you've actually been far less trouble than most of the inmates here, but try not to end up back here again, okay?"
Now, Faith did let her surprise show. She couldn't help it. "No. No, that's wrong. You gotta go back and tell him, her, tell whoever's in charge that they made a mistake. I still got time to do."
The warden laughed again, this time with humor, and somehow that scared Faith. "You don't get it, Lehane. This is out of my hands. I couldn't keep you here even if I wanted to. My advice: You're being given a second chance. Don't waste it."
A second chance… The words echoed in Faith's head like something out of a dream. "I… Do I gotta go out in this?" Faith asked, holding the shirt of her prison jumpsuit with the tips of her fingers.
The warden gestured to a smaller room. "In there's all you had on you when you first confessed. Go in, get changed, then go live your life, Lehane."
Faith was speechless, so she just did as she was told. There were the clothes she'd worn that night. Faith couldn't even remember where she'd gotten them. Did she steal them herself? Did Angel have them on hand to give to her? Did she take them from the apartment that she'd taken over when she'd arrived in LA?
For better or worse, they were Faith's clothes now, and they were the clothes of a free woman. Faith stripped out of her prison uniform and when the feel of actual, real fabric touched her skin, it was like a jolt of energy surged through her. Just the physical feel of clothing made for comfort made Faith feel alive in a way she hadn't even known she was missing.
Stepping out of the changing room, Faith just nodded to Warden St. Claire. "So, uh, thanks for the room and board, I guess?
The warden grunted back by way of reply. "Thanks for not being too much of a pain in the ass. Now get outta here."
Faith nodded and walked out the door into the reception area. Here she was at last. A room for the good people of California, on the right side of the wall in a prison. She took in the sight and then frowned as her face fell upon the lone visitor in the reception room.
Rupert Giles was sitting right in front of Faith, putting down a newspaper he'd been reading and getting to his feet. "Hello, Faith." There was no bite to his words, but something was clearly eating at him, Faith could tell.
"Giles," Faith said carefully. "You why they say I'm a free woman now?"
"Not entirely," Giles said carefully. "And I wouldn't say entirely free, either. We should talk in the car."
Faith nodded in understanding. "There's a catch. Right." Of course, it had been too good to be true. Confessed murderers don't just get sprung after barely a year into their sentence for no reason.
Faith followed Giles out to a sleek red convertible and got into the passenger seat. "Where we headed? Just please don't say…"
"Sunnydale."
Faith smacked her lips. "Right. Back to all the best memories of my life." Even as Faith said the words sarcastically, she realized that Sunnydale really had been home to the best parts of her life. Once Kakistos was dust, Faith had felt free for the first time in her life. She could live life on her terms, and she got to slay while doing so. She'd met Buffy Summers and had an absolute blast with the one person in the world who could keep up with her.
And then she'd gone and screwed everything up. Sunnydale had indeed been home to the best parts of her life, but also to some of the worst. She'd killed a man there, by accident. She'd killed two more on purpose. She'd taken everything she could take from Buffy, just as she'd been told she had, and once she finally had what she'd thought she always wanted, Faith finally realized just how worthless she'd been.
Sunnydale had hosted most of her worst memories, but not the absolute worst. That honor went to an alleyway in the rain in the dark of Los Angeles where Faith had finally let all her barriers collapse and beg for death, since life was simply too painful.
Faith turned to Giles with a look of indignation on her face. "Why're you taking me back there? I'd rather be in prison, and not just because it's the friggin' Hellmouth. Oh, wait. I forgot. I don't have a choice. Why would you even want me back, Giles? Why would anyone?"
"Nobody did want you back, Faith. Not at first, at least. However, Angel has remained in contact with me over the past year or so, and he's kept me updated on your progress. My own personal feelings regarding Angel aside, he has argued very passionately on your behalf."
Faith nodded in slight understanding. "Well, that's because Angel's an awesome guy. Still doesn't explain why you're taking me back to Sunnydale."
Giles sighed, and Faith thought she could see a bit of sweat forming on his face despite the balmy weather. "While Angel has convinced me, personally, of your sincere desire to reform, many others remain unconvinced. I've since been reinstated as a member of the Council - however reluctantly on everyone's part - and I was able to convince them that the best solution would be to use legal channels to free you so long as you take a more active role in your atonement by guarding the Hellmouth."
Faith couldn't help herself: she burst out laughing at the sheer absurdity of it all. "You made a deal to spring me to protect Sunnydale. Oh, this is gonna be great. What'd B do to piss off the Council so much that you need me to-"
"Buffy's dead, Faith."
Faith fell silent instantly, and she felt the silence spread to every corner of her being. This couldn't be happening. Buffy Summers, the real deal, the one true Slayer who didn't screw everything up, who was always there to do the right thing, who tried so hard to be there for Faith when she was busy screwing up her own life and everyone else's, who gave her every chance to be a part of something better than the crappy life she'd always known…
The little red convertible drove onwards on the highway from Los Angeles to Sunnydale, and Faith quietly amended one of her previous thoughts. The worst moment of her life was no longer in that dark, rainy alley. It was right here, right now.
Giles sighed. "We need you, Faith."
Faith nodded absentmindedly at Giles's lie. He probably didn't even realize he was lying. They didn't need her. Nobody needed Faith Lehane. They needed a Slayer, and so Giles turned to the only one on hand. Steeling herself, Faith resolved to be that. She would be a Slayer. She would fight the good fight. She'd protect people. She'd do the job right this time, give it the respect it deserved. She'd take all the lessons she'd ignored the first time around and be the best damned Slayer she could be.
But no matter how much Faith tried and no matter how much she'd prove herself able to do, she would never be what anyone needed. Screw anyone else, Faith needed Buffy Summers. And now she was gone.