TITLE: The Darkness Beckons
AUTHOR: Drusilla
SUMMARY: Faith's reaction to Buffy's death
RATING: PG-13.
FEEDBACK: Please!
SPOILERS: Season Two of Angel, Season Five of Buffy
DISTRIBUTION: Yes! Take it! Just let me know and credit me please. :)
DISCLAIMER: The characters aren't mine, they belong to Joss Whedon.. blah, blah blah.. you know the drill
The Darkness Beckons
------------------
The rules are simple.
Stay alive. Bite them before they bite you, and you're safe. Friends? What friends? There's no such thing in this fucked up world. Confidantes, maybe. Lovers? Sure. But you can't EVER let your guard down for a milisecond 'cause those people you used to trust? They don't trust you.
My fingers itch for the comfort of a cigarette, but there's no such luxury here. Dressed in a garb of some disgusting colour, I'm just another number they've forgotten to feed. I wring my hands and laugh a little, to myself.
Jesus, if they could see me here.
There are dark circles around my eyes, but Hell, why should I care? I don't, and neither do any of my fellow criminals around here.
Angel used to come and visit once in a while. Sometimes every week, sometimes even more frequently. Yet he hasn't come for a month-- I don't expect he ever will again. He's forgotten me, the bastard. Just like all the folks back in ole Sunny-D that used to know me. Bet they wouldn't even recognize me looking like this.
Fuck Angel. I tell myself that I don't care, that he doesn't matter to me anymore. The truth is, it hurts. It hurts that SHE gets to have everything that I never even got a chance at. Bet he's with her right now. Bet they're getting all cozy-- as cozy as they can get, of course-- bet they're having a blast.
It's funny, because every day, I'm still hopin' that he'll show.
Yeah, right.
I could break out of here in an instant, and they'd never know what hit 'em. But I won't, because of HIM. Because I wanna be good for HIM. God, he's the only reason I'm alive at all, and he doesn't even care. He's too wrapped around her finger to even notice me, so long as she's alive.
I'm just another helpless he feels obligated to help.
I sink down some more, until I'm as far as I can go without lying flat on the tile ground. Not too comfortable, but I'm used to that. I'll just take whatever comes without questioning, maybe, and one day I might get out o' here. Sure sure, Faith. I'm thinking, In your dreams.
And the other half is thinking, Let me have my delusions.
And then the guard guy comes and tells me I've got a special visitor. He's a pathetic little man with a quirky mustache and funny blue eyes. I could kick his ass in two seconds, but I won't. I won't because it's wrong, and I won't because even now, I'm hoping that the special visitor is Angel.
He opens the door cautiously and motions for me to follow him with a quick movement of his hand. I tag along like a little puppy and when we reach the visiting room, my eyes dart around, scanning the area for the vampire.
He isn't here.
I should have known. Sighing a little, I look at him and he tells me I'm wanted at stall number 12. I walk over lazily, and to my surprise, I see a familiar face.
It's Willow.
My brow furrows. This can't be good. She hates me just like all of 'em Scoobies; She wouldn't come here unless there's big trouble brewin'. I take a seat and my hand grabs the telephone attached to the wall.
Hey, I say.
Her expression is grave and worried, and a little scared, maybe.
What's up? I ask, in my best relaxed tone.
"Faith, Buffy's dead."
Now, I wasn't expecting THAT. I blink once, and then twice, trying to remember if that part of the conversation was from my head or from her mouth. What? I ask. I'm pretty sure that my jaw is hanging six feet from my upper lip.
"She's dead," Her voice is cracking up a little, and her eyes are glistening, on the verge of tears.
I look away for a moment, my own eyes damp. No, no, this can't be true. It's not. She'll come back. She always does.
"She sacrificed herself to save the world."
Ah. So she died a hero's death. Good for her. My voice seems indifferent, but Hell, that's not what I'm feeling. Sure, maybe I've tried to kill her a few times, and oh yeah, once she stabbed me, but we're past that now. God, she was a fellow Slayer, and I let her down. I should have been there, fighting side by side, fighting the good fight, as Angel says.
Aha. Everything comes back to the one guy, doesn't it?
How's Angel holding up? I ask.
She shrugs. "He wasn't at the hotel."
Uh huh. I fidget, unsure of what to do next. So how come you're here? I ask her, hoping it doesn't sound to mean, or whatever.
"Faith, you're the only Slayer now. Buffy's already died once. It's unlikely that another Slayer will be called."
Oh, fantastic. I'm dripping with sarcasm here, and she looks at me angrily.
Her tone is cold now. "I'm only here to warn you that since you aren't active, the Council needs another Slayer. And you know them. They'll do anything it takes to get one."
Boy do I know. Shit. Now the Council's gonna be putting up an assassination campaign while I'm lazing about on my ass. It's not like I've got much choice. I can't even defend myself in this place.
She stares at me for a second, with those furious little eyes of hers, and then gets up to leave. The guard comes back and escorts me back to the cell, so now I'm confused and just as alone I was before. It didn't happen! It couldn't! Nobody beats B. Nobody.
I lean my head on the cold wall, pondering, when some guy comes crashing in out of nowhere. So soon? Is all I'm thinking. He's a tall, burly man with muscular arms and his face is vamped, of course. "Faith." He says. It's not a question, it's a declaration. Kind of like, if I'm not Faith, I'll still have to do.
Yeah, I say, want a piece of me? But I don't move. My muscles are relaxed and I approach him curiously, narrowing my eyes a little as I study his physique. Nope. Don't think I can make it out o' here in one piece. I haven't trained in months and I'm thin as a stick.
He's a little surprised that I'm not fighting back, but he doesn't waste any time, 'cause the guards are coming. Stepping forward, he grabs me roughly and sinks his teeth into my neck.
It hurts, a little. It's like having huge needles stuck into your jugular and pumping away until you've got nothing left to take . I'm dizzy almost instantly, and sick from hearing the sucking noises coming from his mouth.
But I don't squirm or try to escape. There's no use, and this is.. I'm not sure what it is, but it's right, some how. I'm imagining that it's Angel, and it makes me feel better. I suppose this is what was supposed to happen, after all. I suppose I was being greedy, with my being-alive-ness, and wasting all that Slayer power that could have been passed on to another, less-whacked girl.
I can see death already. I can see the little pool of darkness that is waiting for me, waiting to devour my soul.
I close my eyes, and all I'm thinking is, Angel, I'm finally doing the right thing.
* * *
(end)
* * *
AUTHOR: Drusilla
SUMMARY: Faith's reaction to Buffy's death
RATING: PG-13.
FEEDBACK: Please!
SPOILERS: Season Two of Angel, Season Five of Buffy
DISTRIBUTION: Yes! Take it! Just let me know and credit me please. :)
DISCLAIMER: The characters aren't mine, they belong to Joss Whedon.. blah, blah blah.. you know the drill
The Darkness Beckons
------------------
The rules are simple.
Stay alive. Bite them before they bite you, and you're safe. Friends? What friends? There's no such thing in this fucked up world. Confidantes, maybe. Lovers? Sure. But you can't EVER let your guard down for a milisecond 'cause those people you used to trust? They don't trust you.
My fingers itch for the comfort of a cigarette, but there's no such luxury here. Dressed in a garb of some disgusting colour, I'm just another number they've forgotten to feed. I wring my hands and laugh a little, to myself.
Jesus, if they could see me here.
There are dark circles around my eyes, but Hell, why should I care? I don't, and neither do any of my fellow criminals around here.
Angel used to come and visit once in a while. Sometimes every week, sometimes even more frequently. Yet he hasn't come for a month-- I don't expect he ever will again. He's forgotten me, the bastard. Just like all the folks back in ole Sunny-D that used to know me. Bet they wouldn't even recognize me looking like this.
Fuck Angel. I tell myself that I don't care, that he doesn't matter to me anymore. The truth is, it hurts. It hurts that SHE gets to have everything that I never even got a chance at. Bet he's with her right now. Bet they're getting all cozy-- as cozy as they can get, of course-- bet they're having a blast.
It's funny, because every day, I'm still hopin' that he'll show.
Yeah, right.
I could break out of here in an instant, and they'd never know what hit 'em. But I won't, because of HIM. Because I wanna be good for HIM. God, he's the only reason I'm alive at all, and he doesn't even care. He's too wrapped around her finger to even notice me, so long as she's alive.
I'm just another helpless he feels obligated to help.
I sink down some more, until I'm as far as I can go without lying flat on the tile ground. Not too comfortable, but I'm used to that. I'll just take whatever comes without questioning, maybe, and one day I might get out o' here. Sure sure, Faith. I'm thinking, In your dreams.
And the other half is thinking, Let me have my delusions.
And then the guard guy comes and tells me I've got a special visitor. He's a pathetic little man with a quirky mustache and funny blue eyes. I could kick his ass in two seconds, but I won't. I won't because it's wrong, and I won't because even now, I'm hoping that the special visitor is Angel.
He opens the door cautiously and motions for me to follow him with a quick movement of his hand. I tag along like a little puppy and when we reach the visiting room, my eyes dart around, scanning the area for the vampire.
He isn't here.
I should have known. Sighing a little, I look at him and he tells me I'm wanted at stall number 12. I walk over lazily, and to my surprise, I see a familiar face.
It's Willow.
My brow furrows. This can't be good. She hates me just like all of 'em Scoobies; She wouldn't come here unless there's big trouble brewin'. I take a seat and my hand grabs the telephone attached to the wall.
Hey, I say.
Her expression is grave and worried, and a little scared, maybe.
What's up? I ask, in my best relaxed tone.
"Faith, Buffy's dead."
Now, I wasn't expecting THAT. I blink once, and then twice, trying to remember if that part of the conversation was from my head or from her mouth. What? I ask. I'm pretty sure that my jaw is hanging six feet from my upper lip.
"She's dead," Her voice is cracking up a little, and her eyes are glistening, on the verge of tears.
I look away for a moment, my own eyes damp. No, no, this can't be true. It's not. She'll come back. She always does.
"She sacrificed herself to save the world."
Ah. So she died a hero's death. Good for her. My voice seems indifferent, but Hell, that's not what I'm feeling. Sure, maybe I've tried to kill her a few times, and oh yeah, once she stabbed me, but we're past that now. God, she was a fellow Slayer, and I let her down. I should have been there, fighting side by side, fighting the good fight, as Angel says.
Aha. Everything comes back to the one guy, doesn't it?
How's Angel holding up? I ask.
She shrugs. "He wasn't at the hotel."
Uh huh. I fidget, unsure of what to do next. So how come you're here? I ask her, hoping it doesn't sound to mean, or whatever.
"Faith, you're the only Slayer now. Buffy's already died once. It's unlikely that another Slayer will be called."
Oh, fantastic. I'm dripping with sarcasm here, and she looks at me angrily.
Her tone is cold now. "I'm only here to warn you that since you aren't active, the Council needs another Slayer. And you know them. They'll do anything it takes to get one."
Boy do I know. Shit. Now the Council's gonna be putting up an assassination campaign while I'm lazing about on my ass. It's not like I've got much choice. I can't even defend myself in this place.
She stares at me for a second, with those furious little eyes of hers, and then gets up to leave. The guard comes back and escorts me back to the cell, so now I'm confused and just as alone I was before. It didn't happen! It couldn't! Nobody beats B. Nobody.
I lean my head on the cold wall, pondering, when some guy comes crashing in out of nowhere. So soon? Is all I'm thinking. He's a tall, burly man with muscular arms and his face is vamped, of course. "Faith." He says. It's not a question, it's a declaration. Kind of like, if I'm not Faith, I'll still have to do.
Yeah, I say, want a piece of me? But I don't move. My muscles are relaxed and I approach him curiously, narrowing my eyes a little as I study his physique. Nope. Don't think I can make it out o' here in one piece. I haven't trained in months and I'm thin as a stick.
He's a little surprised that I'm not fighting back, but he doesn't waste any time, 'cause the guards are coming. Stepping forward, he grabs me roughly and sinks his teeth into my neck.
It hurts, a little. It's like having huge needles stuck into your jugular and pumping away until you've got nothing left to take . I'm dizzy almost instantly, and sick from hearing the sucking noises coming from his mouth.
But I don't squirm or try to escape. There's no use, and this is.. I'm not sure what it is, but it's right, some how. I'm imagining that it's Angel, and it makes me feel better. I suppose this is what was supposed to happen, after all. I suppose I was being greedy, with my being-alive-ness, and wasting all that Slayer power that could have been passed on to another, less-whacked girl.
I can see death already. I can see the little pool of darkness that is waiting for me, waiting to devour my soul.
I close my eyes, and all I'm thinking is, Angel, I'm finally doing the right thing.
* * *
(end)
* * *