Watershed
By NGBlue
Disclaimer: Not mine, yadda yadda.
Author's Note: This idea was spawned by reading a fic called Trial by Water, a bsg-story (battlestar galactica) The idea might be the same in a way, but I gave a completely different spin to it. The story is written in second person to add to the angsty-ness. Enjoy and review :)
-x-x-x-
Drip...drip...drip
You try to open your eyes, but it's a slow process, your eyelids are heavy, as if they hadn't been used for ages, as if they are swollen shut.
Drip...drip...drip
You can't remember what happened, where you are right now. Even as you manage to squeeze your eyes to small slivers, and finally see a distorted image of your surroundings, you can't make out where you are.
Your head hurts, and you move a hand up automatically to check for any injuries you might have sustained. But you don't get far, all of your limbs feel numb, you can barely even lift them, let alone check yourself for said injuries.
Carefully you roll yourself over slightly, pushing yourself up into a more comfortable position. You wonder, briefly, how long you have been here, but the details are vague, hazy. There's images, but they are just beyond your grasp. Words, but they won't roll of your lips. It's like the water that's currently dripping from your fingers unto the cold stone floor below.
Water.
The numbness is caused by the fact you're soaked to the bone, and colder than you can ever remember having felt before. There's flashes, more images, but they are vanish just as quickly as they come, and you can't help but groan at your prediction.
You take stock of your surroundings, while rubbing your numbed hands together, in a futile effort to chase away some of the cold, and restore some resemblance of feeling to them.
You realize you're in a shack, a pretty shabby one at that. The dripping sound you heard before originates from the ceiling in one of the corners, water is seeping through slowly. There's no real indication of what the shack was used for, and the only thing you can come up with is that it's a shelter; as you finally notice the snow falling outside while looking through the only window present. It explains the cold, but it doesn't explain why you're completely soaked-through.
It also doesn't explain how you got here. Did someone bring you here? Did you somehow get lost in the snowstorm that seems to be raging outside?
You look around once more, but the whole place is pretty bare, you can only see some cooking utensils and what appears to be a make-shift bed in one of the corners, thankfully the one without a steady stream of water dripping down. There's also a fireplace, but it's currently not in use. There's no wood though, and the only thing that you can think of to set afire to create some heat is a small wooden chair that's placed next to the bed. There's the matter of how to make the fire; you don't really expect to see a lighter lying around somewhere in this place.
The door opening suddenly, startles you out of your reverie. You suspected there would be another person, but definitely not her.
"Faith?"
"Sup B?"
You can't help but eye her wearily. There's something familiar about this situation, something you're supposed to remember, but you can't figure it out. It has something to do with Faith though, of that you are sure.
"W-w-where am I?" You can't stop the chattering, as much as you try, you feel like a living icicle.
Faith looks around, but she seems as lost as you feel. "Beats me actually. Can't remember a thing..." She shrugs and procures a lighter and a cigarette from her back-pocket.
Your eyes are instantly drawn towards the lighter. "P-please...I'm cold, help me with the fire?" The need to warm yourself overrides any questions you have right now. They could wait, but taking care of your body could not. You have no idea how long you've been out for, but you know it's been a while, as the bitter cold is seeping into your very bones; and you've begun to shiver so violently it rattles your teeth.
"Whoa B. What happened to you?"
"Don't...don't know, I'm so cold."
You see Faith's eyes soften up ever so slightly, as she speaks to you, her concern for you apparent in her voice. For a second, when she had entered just moments before, you thought she was responsible somehow for your current situation. But you know better now, she seems as much at a loss about what's going on as you are yourself.
"You need to get rid of those wet clothes B."
The suggestion makes you light-headed, although you aren't sure if it's from the numbing cold or because of the idea of having to strip with Faith as an audience.
"There's n-no..."
You can't find the words, can barely even think at all anymore. So you don't protest when after a moment of hesitation, Faith takes matters into her own hands and relieves you off your soaked-through clothes as fast as she can.
Her hands are warm, soft, a sharp contrast to the harsh cold you've been exposed to up until now. You lean into her touch subconsciously, trying to soak up some of her bodyheat. Her breath caresses your neck and you can't help letting out a small sigh after Faith finally removes the last of your offending garments. You're naked, but you longer care.
She hesitates again, and it's not until you crane your neck up slightly to look at her that she seems to snap out of whatever trance she was in.
"Thank you," you mumble softly.
There's no reply; instead she takes your hands and leads you towards the bed in the corner of the cabin. For a moment you wonder if she'll crawl in with you, but instead she tucks you in as much as possible and grabs an extra blanket from the floor to cover you with. You're still shivering, but not as much as before, and you can feel the hints of pins and needles torturing your previously frozen limbs.
"Any clue if there's any wood stashed anywhere B?" She gives you a questioning look, as she turns around to address you.
"Didn't see any..but, but this chair?" you manage to croak out, as you curl up to a ball beneath the sheets and blankets. The pain in your limbs is worse now, but yet you still feel relieved. You just hope there's no permanent damage after you're completely thawed out.
It doesn't take long at all for Faith to reduce the chair to firewood. You watch her silently for a while as she works; while stealing subtle glances your way every now and then. That previous familiarity you felt before, makes it's reappearance. The situation; how she takes care of you. As if she had before, but yet you can't remember it ever having happened.
You could ask her, but you feel it's not the right question to ask right now, so instead you choose for a different approach. "How did you get here Faith?"
"Told ya...can't remember. One moment I'm there, the next I'm here. It feels as if you somehow called me here though."
You frown at her answer, it wasn't what you expected. Then again, you aren't exactly sure what you had expected; the whole situation unnerves you to no end.
"Where's there?"
She smiles at your question as she prods the budding fire with a poker. "Doing what I was supposed to do. Fighting the baddies, living the good life. You'd think I was on the right path finally; road of redemption? It's vague yunno? But I remember it being a good fight."
"Riddles..."
The memory comes to you unbidden, without warning. This thing—this connection between you both, you remember it better now. Riddles, like before, when you shared a dream together.
"Am I dreaming Faith? Are you?"
She smiles again, her cheeks dimpling, and her eyes twinkle as she basks in the heat of the fire in front of her. "Am I? Maybe... What do you remember?"
"Nothing," you answer automatically. Too automatically. "It's like there's something blocking me from..." you don't finish your sentence, as you suddenly realize you do remember, if only parts of it. "We were arguing?"
"Atta girl."
"This isn't some game Faith..."
You feel the tiredness creeping up on you, and your eyelids droop ever so slightly as you try to give her an annoyed look. You try to fight it, but It's futile, within seconds you fall asleep.
When you wake up again, she's gone.
-x-x-x-
You can't remember how much time passed. Whenever you look outside, the sky is still gray, like the day is stuck between dusk and dawn. You can't see the sun, and neither can you see any stars. It's also still snowing, but the amount that blankets the forest-floor doesn't seem to increase nor decrease. It's like your stuck somehow, as if you're in a stasis.
Earlier, shortly after you woke up, you tried to explore the world outside. But no matter how long you walked into a certain direction, you always returned back to the cabin after a while. And no matter where you looked or how long you shouted; there was never any sign of Faith.
You wonder, briefly, if she could've been a figment of your imagination. After all you had been close to freezing to death, had been almost out of it. But who made the fire? Who removed your clothes? You weren't able to lift your hands up, let alone remove your soaked through garments.
It's not until your stomach's loud rumbling makes you painfully aware of the fact you haven't eaten anything for as long as you can remember, that you go back inside. Only to be greeted by the sight of Faith preparing food.
"You cook?"
It wasn't the question that was burning on your lips, but somehow you were only able to ask about her sudden development of cooking skills.
She nods, as she stirs into one of the pans with a wooden utensil. "It's not much, but I figured you were probably hungry after that whole sitch earlier."
You approach her wearily, unsure of what to make of the whole situation. She seemed to come and go whenever she pleased, while you were stuck. It wasn't the first time she played games with you, you hadn't forgotten about all the previous times. Though a part of you believes you should be past that, after all Faith had done everything you had asked, and more, during the battle with the First.
"Where were you?"
"Dunno, I don't think I'm supposed to know," she seems to frown at her own words as she turns around to face you. "You'd think during a dream I'd conjure up something else but this desolate place in the middle of flipping nowhere, huh?" She follows up by chuckling.
"So it is a dream?"
"Yes and no."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Faith shrugs, and winks at you, although you are at a loss to what it might mean. "You'll figure it out twinkie. Dinner's ready. Like I said though, it's not much, soup and some canned stuff I found stashed away. Not exactly a five star restaurant around the corner yunno?"
Though the stuff looks far from edible, you shove some of it into your mouth anyways. Like Faith said, it's not like you have much of a choice, and you are hungrier than you think, as the plate you filled up is empty within record-time.
Drip...drip...drip.
You had forgotten about that sound, maybe even subconsciously ignored it somehow. But there's a rhythm to it you hadn't noticed before. It calls to you, and as you listen more carefully, a barrage of memories assaults your brain. Without warning you're wrecked with an agonizing pain that spreads through your body and overwhelms your senses.
Faith is with you in a split second, grabbing your hands and dragging you outside. You're about to ask her what the hell she's doing when you double over and empty your stomach's contents. You throw up again and again, until you think there's nothing left, but you're surprised, throughout the pain and the puking, to notice the water.
An endless supply of water.
"It's okay B, it should stop any moment now."
She rubs your back gently as she holds your hair to the side, away from your face. Your body is wracked with gasps and coughs as you spit out the water that continues to fill your mouth. Faith's right though, after about a minute more it finally stops, and you fall back slightly, sliding against the wall of the cabin behind you in utter exhaustion.
Wiping your mouth, you look up to find Faith sizing you up.
"What's happening to me?" You ask her in desperation, even though you know somehow, she doesn't have any more answers than you do.
"What do you remember, B?"
You blink in confusion, and you can feel some simmering anger rising to the surface. Why was she asking that question again?
"I already answered that before Faith, I remember us arguing, I don't know what about, I don't even know the when or the why, I just remember the look you gave me, and then you were running off."
She chuckles, which leaves you even more confused. "Always was good at running."
"Why is this so important Faith? Did our fight somehow get us stuck here together, in this dream? Or whatever the hell it is." You can't help the frustration in your voice, you're tired of the riddles, tired of being stuck here with no solution in sight.
A dark look passes over Faith's face, it's brief, but it's there, and you wonder not for the first time what is going on inside the brunette's head.
"It is important, to me, but I guess more so to you. You won't let it go, guess that trait of yours never changed either, now did it?"
You sigh, more confused than ever, and you wish you could just wake up somehow. "Why would I be so hung up on this Faith?"
"You're the only one that can answer that question B. Maybe it's regret? Maybe it's the fallout of what happened?" She shrugs, and looks up at the sky, as if hoping to find some answers there. "I did realize it's not me though..."
"What?"
"This..." she motions to our surroundings and smirks. "It's you. I never was fond of snow, but you are."
A sudden realization dawns on you. "But it's not important..."
She attempts a smile, but it fails, her mouth-corners never quite curl up. "No...I guess it's not. It's just the fog that clouds your mind. Ever thought of the possibility that the only person keeping you here is you?"
There's flashes of images again, followed by the distinctive awareness that she's speaking the truth. "Why?"
"You like to cling." she shrugs and lights a cigarette. Taking a drag she turns away from you and checks out your surroundings once more. "'Suppose I should be angry somehow, but I guess it beats the alternative."
"What alternative?"
You still can't make any sense of what she's saying, it's as if she's speaking a different language, and yet you know it's important. Like the pieces of a puzzle slowly sliding into place.
Without looking at her face you know the question unnerves her, the way she stiffens up ever so slightly, almost unnoticeable, is all the proof you need of that.
"Someplace much more unpleasant. I like it here, with you..." she says the last words softly as she turns back to face you; that open, vulnerable look back on her face. "But...you can't stay."
Slowly, you lift yourself upright, feeling stronger than before, despite still having an empty stomach. "Why can't I stay Faith?"
"Not ready I guess...hazy on the details though, yunno how it is."
"How do I leave?"
"I don't know B...it's not me it's you, remember?"
"That's bullshit." You can't stop the anger from consuming you. There was no solution in sight, no clue as to why you were here except vague riddles. And you somehow were stuck in some weird dream together with your once-enemy. "I need answers Faith, please..."
"I can't give you any," she mutters, a sad look on her face. "I never could."
Without warning you step into her personal space and give her a shove. "I need to know what's happening, how to leave..."
"I...I...can't," she mutters, tears shining in her eyes. You're taken aback by them, and take a step backwards in shock. "B...Buffy."
Her body shimmers, ever so slightly, before she vanishes, and you're left reeling with the consequences of your actions. You look at your hands as if you expect to see them covered in blood for some reason, but there isn't any. Biting your lower-lip you wait. You don't believe there's anything else you can do.
You don't know for how long, but you keep waiting. Hoping at first. Then pleading. But she never does return, and as time passes, the cold tries to wrap it's way around your body again. Yet you still wait, until you lose all feeling in your limbs, until it becomes too much to bear and you collapse. With your last conscious thought you drag yourself back inside. And then the darkness overwhelms you.
-x-x-x-
You sense yourself drifting in and out of consciousness. But you're warm, safe. Loved. You know she's back, without seeing her. You sense her presence.
"Faith?" You manage to croak out.
"Shhh...let me."
You chew on your lower-lip as you contemplate what she just said. Until you realize she's just as naked as you are, and you're sharing a bed.
"What are you..."
"Helping you. Healing you," she whispers.
Her breath caressing your ears makes you shiver. But you don't move.
"Just let me, I need to B. I'd give my life for you, you know that right?"
The statement comes out of nowhere, and you want to ask her about it, but you find you can't, you're too distracted by what she's doing. Your body feels like syrup as her hands glide across your skin, touching, exploring, worshiping. She presses a kiss on your neck, and you feel yourself heating up as the seconds pass.
She turns you over ever so slightly, so you're lying on your stomach, all the while kissing every inch of bare skin she comes across. There's the hints of your consciousness speaking to you; asking you what the hell you're doing—asking you what the hell you're letting Faith do, but you find you no longer care.
You lose yourself into the overload of sensation shes creating, as her hands trail a blazing trail across your skin, as her lips place open-mouthes kisses along your spine. You feel the beginnings of your arousal coating the place between your legs.
A part of you wants to turn over, wants to take matters into your own hands, but you realize this isn't about you. It's probably not about Faith either. Maybe it's something you both need, crave, somehow.
The first touch of her fingers as they dip into you, startles you, but when she nuzzles your neck and whispers soft comforting words, you feel yourself starting to relax again. You surrender to her touch, to the feeling of her inside of you. It's slow at first, but it's not long until she picks up pace, encouraged by your pleas for release.
There are no fireworks when you feel yourself come undone. No bells, no special sounds, no nothing, but you feel better than you ever have before. And yet, incredible saddened at the same time.
You finally do turn over, staring into with warm chocolate eyes, the golden specks within dancing along with the light exuded by the fireplace. Slowly you reach up, cupping her chin, amazed at what happened, amazed at the easiness with which you both just are.
The first touch of your lips on hers is like nothing you can remember, and you believe, like nothing ever will be. You realize that now, realize where all of this came from. Realize that she gave part of her, that she placed unconditional trust in you. It's something you know she wants you to remember, to cherish, to cling to...
It's her that breaks the kiss first, the sad look back on her face.
"You have to go B."
"No...I don't? Why?"
You can't help the desperation from shining through in your question. She couldn't just give you this, and then push you away again, despite her track-record when it came to bedding people. You're not people.
"Trust me, Buffy."
She reaches forward then, a hand cupping your chin. Your mind echoes back to a situation years before. When she was in a coma, and you had been suffering from severe blood-loss.
Much like then, your feel your vision shift, feel yourself falling, but never reaching the bottom. For seconds, minutes, hours, until you sit upright into your bed.
"Buffy? You're awake! Thank the goddess." You recognize Willow's voice, even though you can't see her. Not yet anyways.
"I..." you don't recognize the rasping that is your own voice, but you need to speak. You need to know.
"Shhh...don't speak, you've been out of it for a while, I'll grab you some water."
Your eyelids flutter, trying to get a clearer picture of your surroundings, trying to orientate yourself.
"How long..." you mutter out. Willow's right, your throat feels parched, and you lick your lips subconsciously, trying to relieve some of the stingy feeling.
"Four days," Willow answers, a look of concern on her face. "Xander! She's awake!" She yells out, and you cringe at the volume. "Sorry Buff, but he's been worried sick, didn't leave your bedside much."
You prop yourself up slightly, trying to get a better look at the room you're in. You're in your own room in the castle, but there's a whole lot of machines littered around your bed, one of them monitoring your heart-rate. Try as you might you can't remember what happened, can't remember how you got here.
It's not until you look outside that the memories rush back.
"It's too damn dangerous B, Jesus, you don't know these guys, they're no fucking picnic."
"Whatever F. We got two squads at the ready, and Willow for backup. I want this nest cleared before they can take out anymore slayers."
"You're not listening to a word I'm saying are you Blondie? These aren't your regular vamps, they pack firepower, lots of it."
"And like I said...we got it under control. We're moving in."
You remember how she had ran off at first, before returning all the while muttering curses under her breath and complaining about your stubbornness. As salty tears sting your cheeks, you wish you had listened to her.
The explosion had taken you by surprise, but not her. There had been a cloud of brown hair, as she rushed towards you and shoved you out of harm's way.
"Faith?" you ask with a weak voice. You already know the answer, but you need to know for sure, you need to have it confirmed.
The sad look on Willow's face, moments before she turns away from you is confirmation enough.
"I"m so sorry...we couldn't... We tried. She saved you, yunno? If she hadn't thrown you into the water at the harbor..."
You nod, as more tears stream down your face, your throat feels too constricted to say more. Irrevocably your eyes are drawn back towards the window.
Outside it's snowing...
