Author's note: Hello all, thanks much for your reviews. I realize that I usually update every day or every other day, but I have a new housemate for a month; she's small, has four legs, sweet but yappy as hell and consistently gets into fights with my dog. My sister's friend is out of town and needs a petsitter, which means it's us. Therefore, less time to write. But I usually don't go too long without updating, and I do want to finish this, so... That's my excuse.

This chapter requires thinking. I know, I know. I'm sorry, it just has to be done. Enjoy and review!

Faith, who was the only person in the world that was truly under his guidance. Under his wing, and only his. Faith, who trusted only him with her life, and whom he knew he could trust his life to. Faith, who was like a gift of hope - a gift of faith - from the Powers. A gift that said to him that indeed redemption was possible, and someone as broken as they could find good within themselves. He and Faith were of similar blood. They were alike in so many ways, yet so different. He had years of experience and patience on her, as well as wisdom that came from being old. But she also had experience. One that was completely separated from his, surprisingly more raw, more full of rage and hate and deceit. It was bound to be surprising. Centuries of living and somehow his experiences had nothing on Faith.

Yet of course, that had an explanation that he had come to understand and resent.

He was hated, he had been cursed and feared and rejected for countless years. He had killed and enjoyed it, he had lived in the filth and he had been on top of the underworld. But then he regained his soul, and knew goodness once more. He did good and worked and slaved and pushed himself to salvation. He learned to be at peace and above all, he learned to love. He loved with the whole of his heart and had been loved back. He had seen the world, and had seen it's evils, and had also seen it's good. He knew what he was fighting for, he understood it with all of himself.

But with Faith, it was different. With Faith, it was bound to be.

Angel knew very little about her, nobody he knew had any knowledge of her past, but there were things he had managed to glimpse in her cold, uncaring eyes when she didn't know he was looking.

Faith was hated, she had been cursed at, feared, rejected, for the short amount of years she lived. Angel had been thrown away by strangers. Faith had been internally destroyed by the people she knew. By people she was supposed to love, and who were supposed to love her. Her family, the few 'friends' she may have known far back in her past. They all used her, betrayed her, and left her. That was all she knew. It was all she learned to do.

Use. Betray. Run.

She had also killed and enjoyed the feeling of being in control. She craved it. Control. Because what else did she have control over? Nothing. When she held the knife, when she held life in her hands, it made her a god. And who would want to give that up? Especially someone who had her face smashed into the dirt so many times, she could hardly tell the difference between the mud and the night sky?

So she took. She took everything and anything she could take, because nothing in life was ever given freely to her, and all she knew how to do was take before somebody took her, and she kept taking more and more until she took lives away and by then she believed she was so far gone, she took the plunge, as well.

"I went so far down I thought, 'This is it. This is all you'll ever be good for, and this is all you'll ever be.' And maybe I was right, Angel. Maybe I'm just too far gone." She'd said to him, not even a month ago.

No, he'd told her. She was more than that. He knew it. She knew it. Cordelia knew it. But steadily the progress he'd made from bottom up was beginning to diminish. Her eyes lost the glimmer of hope; that hope of salvation. Her smiles were strained, and her words were full of self-loathe and strange need for death.

"Most days I wake up and think I don't deserve to be alive, and most nights I go to sleep thinking that someday I'll go back to Sunnydale and get Buffy to finish the job she started. Then maybe I'll feel at peace again. Then maybe it'll make up for all the shit I did to her and the Scoobs. Angel, maybe I just need to be killed off. Like a fucking animal. Like the fucking animal that I am."

"Faith, how many times do I have to tell you that this isn't about Buffy, or the Scoobies, or even Sunnydale?" He felt desperate, and Cordelia later nearly cried after hearing her words.

They were slowly losing her, but not to evil. They were losing her to that voice inside of her that told her she was worthless. That she was useless, hopeless, helpless, and less than the grit beneath her prison boots. That she was nothing. Absolutely nothing. To anyone, least of all herself.

God, how much he'd wanted to strangle himself when he got the call from the Warden. She was locked up in solitary. Every action, every movement was self-destructive and the last straw was when she purposefully picked a fight with the toughest girls during gym time, and allowed herself to be mauled by 7 angry, violent grown women twice her age. Why solitary? Because they knew she could've kicked ass in seconds, but she just let her arms flop and closed her eyes, waiting for them to go so far as to kill her.

Solitary.

Nothing but four lovely concrete walls and a steel door with several bolts and a slot for food. She started slamming herself against the walls, smashing fists into them, screaming, cursing, begging, throwing major fits. Three days later, Angel received another call; one that made him rush out the door and into his car faster than the speed of light. Somehow, Cordelia knew.

Faith had collapsed not only from lack of food and self-inflicted injuries, but also a concussion to the head that could not have been done alone. It was the main cause of the blood loss, and the moment Angel found who did this, they were going to pay dearly. Even with a soul, Angel was not one such vampire to be trifled with, especially with the life of one of his closest friends on the line. He also intended to sue the facility for not making sure she was eating and for the overlooking of her injuries. He would take and drain of them every single fucking penny for this; he would make sure of it.

"And now?" Buffy's voice was hardly a whisper. Willow managed an imitation of a guppy before being gutted, and she did it rather well.

"She's stabilized. She woke up not too long ago, but she should be sleeping now."

"Was she doing alright then? Still capable of livelihood functions?" Giles asked. Angel sighed.

"Well, there was a bit of a problem."

"Tell me about it." Cordelia muttered unhappily.

"What?" Buffy had to ask.

"Well-"

"Faith!" He sounded relieved.

To be honest, he was.

He pushed past the nurse, who was desperately trying to get his attention.

"You're awake." He gave her a small smile as he sat himself into the chair next to her bed.

But something was wrong.

She wasn't returning his smile, instead her eyes watched him warily.

"Faith?"

"Hey." She replied cautiously.

"Are you okay? How are you feeling?"

"Alright, I guess."

He gave her a strange look. Why was she being so distant with him?

"What's wrong?"

"I'm in a hospital with a wicked headache and multiple injuries I don't recall, surrounded by people I've never seen before. Who the fuck are you, and how do you think it feels?" Her voice was full of frustration and exhaustion.

She wouldn't admit it, but she was feeling fearful. Why couldn't she remember? She knew this guy. She could feel it, but she had no idea who this was. Her body knew him. Trusted him. Recognized him.

"Sorry, I'm just tired, and I don't have any idea who I am or who you are, and it's gonna take a little time to get used to it, you know?"

Angel had no response ready for something like this. His heart - if he had one - almost broke the second he realized she didn't know who he was. He finally noticed the nurse, who shrugged at him apologetically.

"I'm sorry, sir. It seems that she's having a mild case of amnesia. Perhaps if there were more familiarities, you could trigger her memory. It'll pass; we just can't give you an estimate timing."

Of course. Triggers.

Cordelia rushed in before he could say a word. Other than her name.

"Cordy-"

"Faith! God, you had us so worried! Are you okay?"

Faith's mouth opened briefly, then closed. Then she blinked.

"She doesn't remember who you are." Angel came to the rescue. Cordelia turned to him with a panicked look.

"What?!"

"She has amnesia. She doesn't remember us."

Cordelia's eyes sparkled with unshed tears. This was so unfair.

"I remember." Faith's voice was gentle. So unlike...her. They turned.

"I just don't remember everything." She smiled. It freaked both of them out.

Faith had just spoken softly, and she just smiled in a non-sexual, non-smirking and non-threatening way. Indeed, the world must be coming to an end. They stared at her wide-eyed, but eventually came to their senses.

"What do you mean?" Angel asked, coming of the trance first.

"I mean I can feel that I...I know you, man. And you." She nodded at Cordelia.

"My body, or whatever, recognizes you. I just don't know your names, or who you are to me, though I could take a guess."

So she remembered that she knew them. Whatever that meant, it was a start.

"I'm Angel. This is-"

"Cordelia."

Faith smiled again. It freaked them out again. Just not as much.

"Cool. Now we all know each other's names. And the only reason I know mine is because every single person coming through that door has called me that."

They laughed. It was a little awkward, though somewhat comforting.

"So...you're my...?" She asked, staring directly at Angel.

"What?"

"What are we? Cause I keep getting this vibe thing, you know, the one that says 'you're safe with this person'. I don't know what you are to me. Best friend? Brother? Boyfriend? Long lost cousin?"

He couldn't help but smile tearfully at her non-sensical hand gestures.

"Something like the first one."

"They said you were my legal guardian. Guardian Angel, huh?" She chuckled.

He, on the other hand, let out a choked cry, turning from the sight of Faith, covered in cuts and bruises she'd done to herself. Turning from Faith, who was now void of all memory, calling him her guardian angel. Cordelia laid a hand on his shoulder.

"That's what he was to you before you lost your memory. I'm glad you can still feel it for him now." She murmured softly.

Faith looked at her. This brunette named Cordelia. Her body reacted strangely, as though somewhat confused at how to feel about her. There was something that screamed danger, something that screamed at her senses to run and to keep running, but another part of her that soothed her and told her it was alright. That everything was cool. She hoped to God it was the latter she could trust, 'cause there was nowhere for her to run.

"It's different with you. With us. Like we've got some history, but it isn't really against you. It's against the history, whatever it is. Our past, I guess, is what's making me want to tear off or something." She paused, watching Cordelia's face burn with the slight accusation. Faith didn't know what had happened, but she was sure she didn't want to know. It felt bad. So she felt the need to add a joke. Something comical to take their minds off of it.

"But between you and me, my body's all for fucking the brains out of your body. You're hot." She winked, hoping she didn't say the wrong thing.

She didn't.

Cordelia burst out in relieved laughter, tears falling freely.

"God, you're still in there, Faith, you leather-clad slutbomb!"

"Hey listen. I'm not the one in designer clothes at 6 in the morning inside a fucking hospital."

"Touche."

They laughed easier this time. It seemed that Faith kept her quick wit and sense of brash humor. Thank the heavens. What would they do without it?

Angel looked to Cordelia.

"You said Buffy called?"

Making a face, she nodded.

"Yea. And her two annoying little sidekicks. They think it's Wes who's hurt."

"Do they know who it is?"

"No, I hung up before they asked. It's not like we want them here." She didn't mention the high factor of how much she didn't want them here, but it was already concluded.

"Well, I think we should have them come. Faith needs more triggers to her memory, and they're a big part of it."

Faith raised her hand and waved it.

"Hello. Still here."

Pause.

"What kind of a candy-assed name is Buffy?!"