Faith coughed as she pulled the red bandana over the lower half of her face, her eyes burning under the hot sun, her hands aching and sore, blisters popping up over top of blisters. Yet, she inhaled sharply and continued to dig, the sound of the shovel hitting the dirt echoing through her head. Dig, lift, toss, repeat.

Smoke billowed up into the sky from the other side of the field, the gentle breeze causing some of it to blow in her direction. The smell was enough to make her gag, but she continued on. She had to. The grave she was digging was the first for someone she knew, someone she cared about, and she knew it wouldn't be the last. It definitely wouldn't be the last.

Dig, lift, toss, repeat.

She stopped when she heard footsteps on the ground approaching her from behind and she stuck the shovel into the ground next to the grave she was digging and pulled the bandana tighter around her face. She wiped her sweaty, grimy hands on her pants as she turned around slowly to face Xander, watching as he just walked past her, a shovel in his hands and he started to dig.

"You don't gotta—"

"I do," he muttered. "Don't argue with me, Faith."

She sighed as she gripped on to the shovel's handle and watched him dig. He wore a red bandana over the lower half of his face as well and his forehead was slick with sweat, his hair growing too long, shaggy and falling into his eyes, but he didn't stop, didn't even pause for a single deep breath. Dig, lift, toss, repeat.

Faith picked up her shovel and moved to the opposite end of the shallow grave and continued to dig. Together they dug for the next twenty minutes until it was deep enough, long enough, wide enough. Only just. She tossed the shovel to the ground, breathing heavily as she wiped her hands on her jeans again. She moved to sit on the ground, just a foot away from the pile of dirt beside the open grave and she pulled off the bandana, using it to wipe at her face, the smoke no longer blowing that way as the wind picked up and changed direction. She barely even flinched as Xander sat down next to her and sighed heavily, his breathing hard and ragged as he leaned forward on to his knees and hung his head low.

"Let's just take a break," Xander said quietly, not lifting his head as his shoulder shook. "Not like she's going…anywhere…"

Faith swallowed hard, not wanting to sit here and hear a grown man cry, but she couldn't move. Her body was protesting against her. Lack of sleep, lack of proper nourishment, it was all catching up to her, just a little slower than the others. Faith turned to her right and looked down at the blood-stained blanket that covered Dawn's body. She swallowed hard again, her own tears springing to her eyes as she tried to fight the emotions running through her body at full tilt.

"Faith?"

"Hmm?"

"When she…" Xander trailed off as he lifted his head, his eyes red and filled with tears, his voice stuck in his throat as he pulled down the bandana from the lower half of his face. "When she died…"

"Was it painless?" Faith asked coldly. "Death is never painless."

Xander frowned as he scratched as his scraggly beard. He looked scared, angry, confused, and lost, but Faith knew there was nothing she could say to make him feel any better about her having to kill Dawn. Nothing she could say to herself could convince her to feel any better about it either.

"It was the right thing to do," Faith whispered as Xander stared long and hard at her. "She was infected."

"I know. You did what you had to do. To save her. To save us."

"Doesn't make it any better."

Faith sighed as she rose up to her feet and stared blankly down at the hole in the ground in front of her. Dawn's grave. A place where, once they left, they'd likely never return. Not even to mourn. She didn't look back at Xander as she tucked the bandana in the back pocket of her jeans and walked towards the warehouse. She wanted to be alone and she knew there was no other place for her to find that solitary than up on the roof.

It was always the rooftops where she found her peace. It didn't matter where they went, she always found her way up, one way or another. How many times had she spent hours on a rooftop, watching the sun rise and fall and rise again, lost in her own thoughts and memories that haunted her even when she was awake? How many times had she been alone for hours and nobody had sought her out, respecting her choice to be alone?

The metal door squeaked as she opened it and stepped out onto the gravel roof, the sun baking hot up there and the breeze nearly non-existent. And she wasn't alone, not like she'd hoped. At the far corner of the roof, near the blood that stained the gravel, Buffy stood with her arms wrapped around herself and her eyes lowered to the bloody spot. The same spot where Dawn had taken her last breath the night before. Faith glanced down at her clothes, clothes she still hadn't changed, clothes that still had Dawn's blood caked on thickly, dry but stiff. Her stomach lurched as she grasped at her shirt, the dried blood flaking, crumbling in her clenched fists.

Faith stopped where she was, unsure whether to leave Buffy be, or to join her, offer some form of comfort, whether it just be her presence or something more. They'd come a long way since Sunnydale and even more since the day she and Angel found them hiding out in a cabin nearly twenty miles outside of Castle Rock, Colorado, braving out a strong storm that blew down from the mountains. Yet, Faith wasn't delusional. She knew they still had a long way to go, but for now, they were what they were. Were they friends? Hardly. Were they family? Far from it.

They were just two slayers, watching out for each other and the others, making sure they all survived another day. They were just two slayers, the last of the Chosen, banding together because they had no other choice. Surviving alone in the world was not an option and Faith had barely made it out of California alive.

She pulled out her metal case and placed a cigarette between her lips. Her hand shook slightly as she mustered up enough strength to cup her hand around the flame long enough to light her cigarette. She clicked her lighter shut and placed it back in her pocket as she closed her eyes and turned her face up towards the cloudless sky.


(Six Months Ago…)

The skies were burning behind them, the smoke, the flames chasing them across the horizon as Faith pressed the pedal down hard, the tires of the Army issued Jeep squealing along the pavement as she swerved left and right, avoiding the abandoned cars along Route 66. The entire state of Arizona was behind them, fires burning, dust storms covering entire towns, following them as they raced to stay ahead of the chaos and destruction.

Faith could almost feel the rising sun in the darkness of the night ahead of them and she turned to look at Angel who sat in the seat next to her, his eyes trained on the map he had open in front of him. She didn't have much time to find shelter for the day, half an hour at most. It'd taken them two months to get out of California and across the state of Arizona, following one lead after another, hiding out during the day for Angel's sake, and fleeing for their lives from the infected that spread faster than wildfire.

"Angel, we gotta find a place to pull over," Faith said over the roar of wind that rushed into the open-top Jeep. "Angel?"

"We just passed over the state line into New Mexico. There's a town not far up ahead."

"How far from here?"

"A few miles," Angel replied, his eyes still trained on the map. "Six and a half miles."

"Six and a half miles? We don't have that much time—"

"Then drive faster!"

Faith gripped on to the steering wheel tightly and pushed the pedal down to the floor. After two miles, the highway was clear of abandoned cars, save for a few that were pulled over to the side of the road, abandoned, hoods propped open, the owners likely have abandoned them due to lack of gas or other problems. Faith squinted as she kept her eyes on the road. Exhaustion had caught up to her, but it wasn't enough to slow her down. She couldn't afford to let it get to her, the only priority she had was to get Angel somewhere safe, somewhere dark and out of the approaching sunlight.

It had been just by luck they got their hands on the Army issued Jeep a few miles outside of LA. It had been a disaster zone, fires and riots, people dying in the streets, the infected growing by the hour. It wasn't just a state of emergency, the whole country was suffering and there was no where to run and hide, nowhere where they'd be safe from the Hell that had erupted on earth overnight.

Nobody seemed to know exactly what was going on and when she'd finally found Angel, he was holed up in an office inside of Wolfram and Hart, armed to the teeth, hundreds of bodies dead in the corridors on every floor of the large building. He was the only one, essentially, alive in the entire building and despite how relieved and happy he was to see Faith, it was short-lived. They had to fight their way out and down to the sewers. Faith had a few close calls, too close, and if it hadn't been for Angel, she would've been one of them two months ago.

Angel called them zombies, but not in the traditional sense. When the outbreak had started, researchers at Wolfram and Hart had captured one, ran a lot of different tests. Part of these things were still human, part of them were zombies, but a bigger part of them was an entirely new breed of vampire, one the world had never seen before—at least not in that dimension of the world.

From what Faith had learned since she found Angel, the outbreak started in LA shortly after they had destroyed the First Evil and it's army of Turok Han in Sunnydale. A virus of sorts, originating from a lab long have thought to have been destroyed nearly thirty years before. A virus that gripped the city, then the state, and soon the entire country. Beyond that, Faith wasn't sure how bad it was, but she'd seen it all first hand. It was bad. It was worse than a living Hell. A pure nightmare nobody could escape from.

And there was no cure. Only death.

"Next exit," Angel said as he shuffled the map, turning it over quickly as Faith looked up ahead for the next exit.

Blocked. Piles of cars, trucks, and vans blocking the entire exit off the freeway.

"Bit of a problem, Angel…"

He looked up quickly and groaned in frustration as he flipped the map again. "There," he said suddenly as they passed the on-ramp. Faith hit the brakes, the Jeep coming to a skidding stop, the sound echoing loudly as the Jeep lurched to a stop. "It's clear. Enough to drive through anyway."

Faith gripped on to the wheel tightly and made her way down the on-ramp. Aside from a few burnt out cars, it was mostly clear. She came to a stop at the road and to her right, not far from where they were, she spotted a gas station, the hotel across the street burnt out and nothing but a shell of what it once was. Deciding to risk her luck, she drove towards the gas station and parked the Jeep around the back.

"Five minutes until sunrise," Angel said as they hopped out of the Jeep and grabbed their weapons out of the back seat. "Let's clear the building quickly, Faith."

Faith led the way into the back door, long broken down. She raised the shot gun as she carefully and quietly made her way through the storeroom, her boots crunching against the broken glass along the floor with every step she took. She looked back at Angel and on his signal, she went the opposite way, finding another door and found it locked. She lowered the shotgun and twisted the handle, breaking the lock with a loud snap. She eased the door open, finding a small, cluttered office beyond the doorway. She inhaled deeply as she raised the shotgun up again and after quickly checking the room and finding it clear, she let out a whistle, calling out to Angel.

"Place is empty," he said as he entered the office and placed his own shotgun down on the desk. "We'll stay here until the sun sets and then we get as far as we can tonight."

"Are you sure they're gonna be there?"

Angel pulled the chair out from the desk and sat down while Faith made sure the windows were blocked from the sunlight. The heavy drapes would do until later in the afternoon when the sun would be behind the building. She'd worry about that later.

"Angel," she said quietly when he didn't answer her. "Are you sure they're gonna be there?"

"It's only been a week since they were spotted outside of Castle Rock," Angel replied. "They're there. It hasn't been hit near as hard as the places we've been."

"And if they're not?"

"We keep looking."

"Like finding a needle in a haystack," Faith muttered as she picked up an overturned chair and sat down heavily, her eyes burning, her body urging her to rest. "If they ain't there—"

"They're there," Angel snapped and he rubbed the back of his neck and closed his eyes tight. "Trust me, they're there."

Faith's stomach growled as she slouched in her chair, her shotgun draped over her lap as her hands rest on top of it. How long had it been since she'd eaten? A day? A little longer? How long had it been for Angel? She wasn't sure, but she was certain it'd been almost three days for him. How much longer could either of them get without food? It seemed like it should've been easier for Angel to feed, but it wasn't and the risk of him drinking from someone that was infected was far higher than Faith getting sick over a half a loaf of mouldy, stale bread.

The day dragged on and Faith found it impossible to sleep, her senses on high alert as Angel rested. By noon, she gave up on sleep and quietly explored the gas station, searching for food, for water, anything left behind, but the place had been ransacked ages ago and there was nothing left. Nothing but two carton's of Lucky's cigarettes she found wedged under the front counter near the cash register. After she stashed the cigarettes in the Jeep, she took a pack up to the roof with her and she sat there in the blazing hot sun, chain smoking for hours as she keep her eyes on the road, looking for any sign of life. Human or infected, her shotgun at the ready at all times.

By the time Angel found her on the roof just ten minutes after the sun finally set low in the sky, she'd smoked an entire pack of cigarettes and was rattled, her nerves on edge as her body fought the extreme exhaustion that was worse then than it'd been that morning.

"Did you sleep?" Angel asked quietly. "Faith?"

"Couldn't."

"Why?"

"Too hungry," she muttered as she rose to her feet. "Come on, let's get the show on the road, yeah?"

"Give me the keys," Angel said, stopping her from climbing down the ladder at the back of the building. Faith scoffed and he stopped her again. "You're not driving. You're tired, weak. Give me the keys, Faith."

She pulled the keys out of the front pocket of her jeans and tossed them at him. With a disgruntled huff, she climbed down the ladder and tossed the shotgun in the backseat before climbing into the passenger seat. Angel took his time making his way down the ladder and to the Jeep. He sat there for a few minutes, his hands gripping the steering wheel tight before he turned to look at her. He said nothing before he slipped the key into the ignition, the engine roaring to life.

Dust kicked up behind them as he sped out from behind the building and back out onto the road. He backtracked the way they'd come off the freeway and continued on the way they'd been, heading north east up Route 66. Faith struggled to keep her eyes open, fighting sleep as she'd done all day, but as the miles passed, her eyes grew too heavy and she drifted off, her nightmares waiting for her just as they always were. Waiting to haunt her, taunt her, remind her that the whole world had gone to shit in such a small amount of time.

It was the screams she'd heard in the prison that night that woke her up with a start. She breathed heavily, trying to slow her racing heart as she came to, blinking as she stared out over the road, trying to figure out where they were and how long she'd been asleep. It felt like hours, but she knew she could be wrong. Nightmares always made it feel like she'd slept for far longer than she had, nightmares making an hour feel like a lifetime.

"You okay?" Angel asked as he reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder, making her look over at him. "Faith?"

"Yeah, man. Yeah, I'm fine."

"Another nightmare?"

"Nah," she chuckled dryly as she shrugged his hand off of her. "Where are we?"

"Check the map," he replied and she groaned, stretching out as best as she could in the front seat before she pulled the map out of the glovebox and opened it. "Just passed a sign. Raton should be three miles from where we are."

Faith scanned over the map, her eyes opening wide in shock. How long had she been asleep? It would've taken them hours to get to where they were. Six hours at least. She rubbed at her eyes and folded the map back up again and leaned back in the front seat. She rubbed at her rumbling stomach and reached into the backseat for the bottle of water she knew was still back there. Careful not to chug the entire thing all at once, she sipped greedily, gasping as she felt the warm water slide down her throat. She sat up in alarm as Angel swerved and struggled to keep the Jeep on the road and she reached over and grabbed the wheel and stared straight at him.

"Pull over."

"I'm fine—"

"No, you're not," she snapped and she pulled his shirt away from his neck, revealing a nasty bite mark on his shoulder. "When did you get bit? Angel?"

"I—"

"Pull over!" She screamed at him and they struggled for a moment before Angel slowed down and put the Jeep into park. "When the fuck did you get bit, Angel?"

He sighed heavily as Faith reached past him and opened the door. She shoved at him to get out before she jumped out of the passenger side and rushed around to grab him by the front of his shirt. She slammed him up against the side of the Jeep, her eyes boring deep into his as she waited for him to answer her.

"When did you get bit?" She asked again through clenched teeth. "Tell me, Angel. Please."

"Three days ago."

"Were you ever going to tell me?" Faith asked and he stared blankly at her. She slammed him against the side of the Jeep again. "Jesus christ, Angel, you weren't going to tell me, were you? You're infected and you weren't going to tell me? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"It's not—it's not taking over me as quickly as it does the others. I thought I'd have enough time to—to get you to the others, to make sure you got there safe before—"

"Before I have to kill you?" Faith asked and she scoffed as she let go of him and started to pace the road a few feet in front of him. "When did it happen?"

"I told you."

"You just told me three days ago. We're barely out of each other's sight for long. When did it happen?"

"When I fed last," he whispered. "You weren't there. You couldn't stand it, me drinking from that poor woman who was almost nearly dead. I shouldn't have. She—she was infected. She woke up and she bit me before I realized what was happening. I couldn't stop her. I was so hungry, Faith, and after I put a knife in her heart, I kept drinking."

"Fuck!" Faith screamed out into the quietness of the empty desert all around them. She stormed up to Angel, her fists hitting his chest in frustration. "How? How can you still be you if you were bitten three days ago, huh?"

Angel grappled with her, struggling to get a hold of her flying fists and when she gave in, she broke down in a fit of tears and rage. Angel let go of her wrists and wrapped his arms around her tightly, holding her head to his uninjured shoulder as she cried hot, stinging tears.

"This virus, it's unpredictable," he said quietly, still holding on to her tightly. "I told you what the researchers at Wolfram and Hart found—"

"And you believe them?"

"Nobody else knows what this is," Angel said and he pushed her back just enough to look down into her eyes. "This virus started in a single vampire. It latched on, god knows how, and it made it into a complete monster. The first human it bit, it transferred the virus, manipulating it, changing that poor soul into the things that are killing off the world, one human at a time and it's not stopping there, it's taking all beings that exist in this world, alive and dead, with it."

"You lied."

"What?"

"You lied. You told me all you knew was about the one that Wolfram and Hart captured and did those tests on. You lied to me," Faith growled and she struggled against him again. "Let go of me!"

"Faith—"

"Why the hell did you lie to me, Angel? After I trusted you!"

"Faith, please, listen to me," he said sternly and he grabbed her roughly, forcing her back up against the Jeep, snapping her out of her rage. "I lied because I knew there was a chance it would happen to me too, sooner rather than later. I didn't want you to worry about me—"

"Fuck!" Faith screamed into his face and she broke down into a fit of rage induced laughter. "What else did you lie about?" She laughed maniacally as she pushed him away from her hard. The force of it caught him off guard and sent him stumbling backwards. "What else? Tell me, now."

"There's no cure," he said quietly. "Not for me. Not for any human infected. It's only a matter of days, Faith, if I even have that. I can feel something inside of me changing."

Faith scoffed and yanked open the driver's door and stumbled back when Angel slammed it shut. Faith breathed heavily as she ran her fingers through her hair and she shook her head, letting out another scream that rang through the empty desert air.

"I need you to promise me—"

"What? Promise you what? That I'll kill you before you turn into one of them?" Faith asked, laughing incredulously as she backed away from Angel and the Jeep. "No. No, I can't do that. I'm not going to kill you. Not after everything we—"

"There's no cure, don't you understand that, Faith? There is no damn cure! The only way to stop this is to kill the ones that are infected and that includes me!"

"And then what? Keep on running, hiding, trying to survive when there's no hope for the world, huh?"

"Are you just going to give up hope?" Angel asked and she closed her eyes, feeling her whole body shaking as she tried to calm herself down. "You can't give up, Faith."

Angel grabbed her wrists and pulled her towards him and he wrapped his arms around her tightly and he pressed a hard kiss to the side of her head. Faith reluctantly wrapped her own arms around him and held on tightly, never wanting to let go, not if that means she'd lose him completely. Angel stepped back after a few long minutes and gently wiped her tears from her cheeks.

"I'll fight it as long as I can, but my time is coming, Faith, and I'm asking you to promise me that you'll do it before it's too late," he asked quietly. He cupped her face gently before she could look away, forcing her to keep her eyes locked with his own. "Please, Faith. Promise me?"

"Why me?"

"Because you're the only one I can trust. Promise me, Faith. Please?"

Faith inhaled sharply and shook her head. "Okay, Angel. I promise…"

"Now," he said with a soft chuckle as he let go of her and reached for the door. "How about you drive the last few miles, we'll take a look around town, find you something to eat and a safe place to stay. The sun'll be up in an hour."

"Angel…"

Angel held the door open for her, shaking his head no. She sighed and climbed in and gripped onto the steering wheel with her left hand and placed the other on the gear shift as she waited for him to get into the Jeep with her.

"Angel, it's not gonna be tonight, is it?"

"No, not tonight, Faith."

"When—"

"I don't know," he sighed as he shut the door behind him. "I don't know when or how soon it'll be. But when I ask you, don't back down on your promise."

Faith shifted the Jeep into drive and hit the gas. She forced a smile as she gazed over at Angel. "Yeah, I won't back down. Not this time."

Faith felt numb as she pulled off the freeway and into the small, quiet and deserted down of Raton, New Mexico. She drove down the empty streets, every building, every house, empty. Some were standing, some were burnt to the ground, some were boarded up with giant x's marked on the doors in red spray paint. No survivors.

They searched for an hour, leaving the Jeep parked in front of a motel that was barely standing all but one room at the very end of the long building. Faith went north and Angel went south, both promising to be back at the Jeep ten minutes before the sun was set to rise. Forty minutes later and a backpack full of canned food she'd found in the storeroom of a hardware shop, she was back at the Jeep, waiting for Angel. When he finally appeared, coming around from behind a building down the street, Faith couldn't fight the relieved smile that curled over her lips and the tears that brimmed in her eyes.

They said not a word as they settled into the dark motel room that smelled of stale cigarettes and cat piss, but the windows were boarded up tight and the water in the bathroom still worked and there was a bed. It was going to be home for the day, home while Angel rested and Faith waited for the hours to pass by. At least they'd found a place she could shower, the first in a week, and it didn't matter if the water was cold or not, or if it had a hard, iron smell to it, it was clear and it washed her skin clean of the dirt, the sweat, the grime and the blood.

But it didn't wash away the tears that fell as she leaned up against the cool tiles and let the cold water run down her sore, tired body. In just a matter of days, the virus that gripped the rest of the nation, the rest of the world, would turn Angel into one of them. And then she'd have to kill him.

As much as she didn't want to, a promise was a promise.

And this was one she knew she had no choice but to keep, because she knew deep down, he'd do the same for her too, before it was too late…


"Was it hard?"

"What's that, B?" Faith asked as she took one last drag of her cigarette before flicking it down onto the gravel roof. "What was hard?"

"Killing him," she whispered, keeping her back to Faith as Faith approached her with caution. "Was it just as hard killing him as it was…with Dawn?"

"I—I don't know what you want me to say," Faith said, her voice cracking as she wrapped her arms around herself, willing the tears not to fall again. "I loved Angel and I loved Dawn. It wasn't easy, if that's what you're asking me here."

"Would you do the same for me?" Buffy inhaled slowly, her shoulders rising and falling as she turned to face Faith. "If I was bitten, infected. Would you kill me too before it was too late?"

"B, come on," Faith laughed dryly and she dropped her arms to her sides, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her tank top. "You know we all made that pact months ago that if anything happened to us, if one of us were bitten, we got to choose who—who killed us before it was too late."

"And Dawn chose you," Buffy muttered, her tone dry and distant. "Why? Why you, Faith? What makes you so goddamn special?"

"Beats me," Faith shrugged. "It doesn't matter now, does it?"

"No," Buffy said with a shake of her head. "No, she's gone now. It doesn't matter. She doesn't matter because she's dead! She's gone and dead and I never got to say goodbye. Why didn't she want me to say goodbye, Faith? Why?"

Buffy was angry and hurt, her heart was broken and it showed so clearly in her eyes. It made Faith's heart hurt even more and she didn't know what to do, didn't know how to comfort Buffy because she never had before, never given the chance since it had always been someone else there to offer Buffy that shoulder to cry on, to offer Buffy into their arms, to hold her when she needed that comfort the most. This time, it was only the two of them, nobody else around to sweep in and save the day, so to speak. It was only her and Buffy, alone on the rooftop in the blazing hot sun, both grieving over Dawn in their own way.

Faith cautiously approached Buffy, standing just inches away from her. She tentatively brushed her hand against Buffy's before she grabbed her hand and intertwined their fingers. Buffy looked down, wouldn't or couldn't look at her as Faith pulled her in, one arm wrapped around her while the other held her hand tight between their bodies.

And she didn't move away as Buffy's lips brushed up against her own, a soft kiss that came out of nowhere. She stood there unmoving, not sure what was going on, whether to kiss Buffy back or whether to push her away, blame it on the overwhelming grief and the need to feel anything other than pain and heartbreak and loss.

"Thank you," Buffy whispered against her lips, kissing her once more before pulling away.

"For what, B?"

Buffy just flashed her a tight smile before she turned and walked away, leaving Faith standing there alone on the roof under the blazing hot sun. Angel had talked about her never losing hope and in that moment, Faith knew that that kiss Buffy had given her, it had sparked that hope again inside of her.

Hope she'd lost. Hope she'd forgotten had felt like freedom, like there was still a future for all of them, no matter how long it took them to get there or at what cost…