WARNING: This chapter includes character death.
They avoided each other for the rest of the day. It wasn't difficult, considering the size of the Hyperion. Every time their eyes did happen to meet, they both glanced quickly away. It was awkward and painful for both of them.
Faith was about ready to claw Fred's eyes out. The other woman had noticed the silence and strained tension between her and Wes, and correctly assumed that her prophetic predictions had come to pass. Fred gave Faith dirty looks every time she saw her, and several times appeared on the verge of voicing a comment. One deadly glare from Faith stopped them before they left her tongue.
It was a somber group that met in the lobby at ten. Everyone felt the friction between Wes and Faith, which affected the whole group. Angel made a short speech, since he was incapable of setting off on a mission without one, and they left, Faith leading the way.
Once they'd reached their destination, she guided them down into the recesses of the art house. "The nest was down here," she said quietly, not looking at anyone as they crept through darkened passageways. "I couldn't get a really accurate idea of how many there were. Best guess is four."
"I'm thinkin' twice that," Gunn said grimly. He gestured at the brightly-lit doorway that led to the nest. The room was full of demons. They were tall and an ugly orangeish-red color, covered in what looked like armored plates. Their eyes were solid black and empty.
Angel cursed. "Voquilas."
Cordelia sighed. "Not thinking that's a good thing."
He made a noise of agreement. "Nasty sons-of-bitches. Evil tempers, and the ability to control fire."
Faith shrugged. "So we take them out before they can barbecue us."
Wes shook his head. "It's not that simple, Faith. Their eyes burn until they are flaming, which they can project and manipulate up to a great distance."
She spared him a glance, then wished she hadn't. "Fine, Wes," she mumbled, looking away. "What do you suggest?"
"Shields would have been nice," he said dryly. "But at least we have our swords. Decapitation is the only way to kill a Voquila."
Faith nodded briskly. "Off with their heads. Got it. Let's go." Before anyone could say a word, she darted through the doorway and stirred up trouble. Cursing, Angel and Wes followed on her heels. Gunn, Cordelia, and Fred were left to fall into line.
They were so outnumbered that there was no time to create a battle plan, they just had to go in swinging. Instinctively they all knew the most important thing was to protect Angel, since he was most vulnerable to their fiery attacks. Wes felt the brunt of many fireballs and saw Faith take more than her fair share of streams of fire.
He wanted to kill with his bare hands the demons that had caused her pain, but realistically he knew she was probably faring better than any of them. She just shook off every hit and kept fighting. She'd managed to kill two before any of the rest of them got in a kill of their own.
His heart leaped into his throat when he saw her fighting one Voquila, which kept her distracted while another advanced on her from behind.
"Faith, behind you!" he shouted, giving her enough time to whirl and swing her blade in a deadly arc. The moves he'd seen her practicing that day so long ago served her now, and she effortlessly sliced through its neck.
He breathed a sigh of relief that was short-lived. He turned to see Fred and Gunn trying to distract another of the demons without making themselves targets. They were holding their own, so he made his way over to assist Cordelia and Angel.
He heard a scream of pain and he swore his heart would stop. His eyes sought Faith out, closing briefly in disbelief when he realized that the demon she'd been fighting had managed to get the upper hand. The demon's talon-like claws had speared into Faith's side, holding her aloft as she struggled to release herself from the painful grip.
She spit blood onto the demon's face, wincing as the claws dug deeper. Her eyes sought Wes's. "Help me," she pleaded.
Feeling like his chest was going to burst, Wes ran over and speared his sword through the demon's throat, listening to it howl in agony before collapsing, bringing Faith down with it. She screamed again at the pain the jarring motion caused.
As gently as he could, he pulled the deadened claw from her side. She was shaking, pale, and breathing heavily. When he knelt to assist her, she shook him off. "There's still three left," she rasped. "Cordy and Angel have one, Fred and Gunn have another. You're going to have to get the last one. I can't do it," she confessed, the admission nearly as painful as her wound.
"You'll be okay, Faith," he promised her, praying as he spoke that his words were true.
She lifted the corner of her lips in a brief grin. "Of course I will. It takes more than a damn demon to keep me down," she reminded him saucily, trying to pretend that she wasn't in incredible pain.
Taking a deep breath, Wes stood up and left her. It was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do in his life. He watched as the third remaining demon advanced on him, his face set with determination. He would not fail.
He swung his sword hard, but his aim was off. The blade bit into the Voquila's shoulder, which irritated him but didn't wound him deeply. The armored plates kept him from feeling much of the blade. "You are merely a nuisance to me," he growled at Wes.
"The feeling is mutual," Wes snarled back, pulling his sword and attempting another strike. The demon, enraged, backhanded Wes.
Wes felt the blow all the way down his spine, leaving him shaken. It was a brief hesitation, but enough for the demon to get the upper hand. The demon grabbed his wrist, twisting upward. Wes grimaced and instinctively dropped the sword his fingers were wrapped around, which the demon picked up, grinning sadistically.
"Looks like your luck has turned, human," the Voquila taunted him. He pushed Wes away from him and reared back a scaly hand, preparing to drive the sword into him.
"No!"
Wes and the demon both turned in surprise at the feminine shriek. Faith had picked herself up off the ground when she saw what the demon was going to do. She had an arm wrapped around her gaping wound but didn't hesitate as she ran toward the pair.
Grunting, the Voquila thrust his arm forward before the brunette blur could stop him. Wes flinched as he braced for impact, but only felt a thud as a body collided with his. The two tumbled to the floor, Wes seeing stars when his head impacted. He felt the weight lift off of him and then heard a swish, the thick, wet sounds of a blade going through flesh, and the sickening thud of something hitting the floor.
"A sword. Why'd it have to be a goddamn sword? I'm sick of getting skewered!"
Wes opened his eyes to see the most horrifying sight he'd ever encountered. The Voquila that had attacked him lay dead, his head severed by the sword that Faith wielded. The sword dripped with blood; not the black kind that the Voquilas had been oozing since the deadly rampage began, but the thick, crimson red of human blood. His gaze flew to the massive hole in Faith's stomach, seconds before she collapsed to the ground.
"Faith!"
"It's okay, Wes," she whispered, her breathing even more labored. "I'll be fine."
Tears streamed down his face. He loved her even more for her bravery, but they both knew the truth. The Voquila had stabbed her deeply, the wound so severe that even a Slayer could not recover. Blood ran freely from the hole in her stomach and her breathing was ragged.
"I'm sorry," he whispered back, his hand reaching up to caress her hair, cradling her head. "I did what I swore I wouldn't do. I failed."
"No, you didn't," she protested. "I did. If I hadn't let that demon get me, I would have been at your side helping you fight the last one."
"How like you to protect me, even in death," he said softly, swallowing back his pain.
She smiled tremulously. "I had to do something. I had to make it up to you."
"Make what up?" he asked, bewildered.
Her eyes welled up with tears. "I lied."
"What do you mean?"
"When you told me you loved me. I told you I didn't want it. I lied." She lifted a hand, tracing her fingers tenderly over the stubble on his cheek. "I never said I didn't love you back, Wes."
He realized in that instant what she'd done. It wasn't just a Slayer doing her duty, sacrificing herself to save the innocent. It was a woman protecting the man she loved. Just likeā¦
"You get it now?" she asked, a ghost of a smile appearing on her lips. "I thought India was crazy, getting herself killed for a guy. Now it's my turn. You thought she was crazy for letting love get in the way of duty. What do you think now?"
He knelt beside her, scooping her body up and cradling her against his chest. "I understand."
"Good." She closed her eyes briefly, then reopened them. Her gaze searched his face, landing finally on his eyes. "I love you, Wes. Think maybe I always have. Sorry this is how you had to find out."
He laughed through his tears. "Do you think maybe you could have skipped the part where you ran in front of a sword meant for me?"
Her lower lip trembled. "You really think I could have lived if I hadn't?"
He shook his head. "No, I don't think you could have." He paused. "You truly are a hero, Faith. The kind you always wanted to be."
She smiled. "Then I'm dying the way I always wanted to, too." He started to say something, but she held a finger up to his lips to quiet him. "Kiss me?"
"As if I could deny you," he murmured, dipping his head to capture her lips with his. The warmth of skin against skin, flesh against flesh, set both their hearts racing. His gentle touch feathered across her face, his lips skimming over her eyelids and cheeks before settling back on her mouth. She opened her lips to him and he traced his tongue over the gentle curves. Their tongues met softly, gently, lovingly.
And then he tasted the coppery tang of blood.
He pulled back, his heart breaking. Her eyes were old, tired, as they watched him. "I hope I gave you something, Wes. More than I took away."
"You gave me everything," he whispered hoarsely.
She smiled peacefully, closing her eyes. She coughed, blood bubbling up through the lips that had just caressed his own, and took her last breath.
His heart shattered as he stood up with her in his arms. He turned to see his friends watching him in sorrow. Even Fred looked sad for him.
Broken, he whispered. "Let's take her home."
