Chapter 10

Has no one told you she's not breathing…hello

I'm your mind, giving you someone to talk to…hello…

Suddenly I know I'm not sleeping….hello

I'm still here, all that's left of yesterday….

Evanescence, "Hello"

Though Faith's tears didn't last very long, and she drew away, calming herself, soon after they had ended, Xander continued to focus on her, watching her somewhat worriedly. He knew that he would have to bring up to her what he had been thinking of as he held her, that he would have to talk to her about it before she left again, or closed herself off to him entirely. It would be hard, not only because Xander was never one to know how he should go about such a conversation, but also because of the confliction of desires that went along with his conviction that he needed to do so.

He wanted very much to preserve Faith's trust in him, to assure her that with him she could have her privacy, that all her pain and weaknesses, her mistakes and screw-ups, would not be shared and sneered over, picked apart or laughed at by everyone else. He knew that if he told her to talk to others, this fragile trust in him would be badly shaken.

There was another, more selfish reason that Xander didn't want to say anything as well. A small part of him, as much as he hated to admit it, liked that she trusted him, and seemingly no others, right now, with her life, her thoughts, her emotions. He liked being needed… and he liked that SHE needed him. A part of him wanted to care for Faith himself, all by himself, to continue to keep her secret, only for him- to save her by himself. Xander hated this part of himself, but it existed, even if to a slight degree, and he could not deny that.

He wanted to keep Faith and her problems for his own self to deliver, but Xander knew he could not. For one thing, he would never singlehandedly be able to deliver Faith from anything, especially her own self- he had known this even before the past few days. Even if he could figure out a way to somehow do so, a way that could possibly work, Xander would not have tried, for he knew very well that he had to do what was best for Faith, and not just what could possibly work out if a lot of effort was given. And from what he had heard of Faith's dream, he knew that Giles, at the very least, should be given a heads up as to what had been going on.

He also knew very well that however gently he might suggest it, Faith was not going to like his advice to her to tell Giles about the dreams. Even if she knew it should be done, that it had to be done, she would likely resist actually doing so in every possible way… and Xander would have to be very, very careful in how he broached the subject with her, especially considering how she had just lay herself open emotionally in front of him. Problem was, as usual, how?

Once she had regained control of her emotional display, if not her emotions altogether, Faith once again withdrew from Xander somewhat, but not in the extreme way that he had witnessed from her previously. She was quiet, but not motionless or nearly mute, as she had been after his first experience with seeing her cry. She was somewhat restless and wary in the way she held herself, but she neither ran nor screamed at him, nor did she flinch if he so much as shifted his weight. This in and of itself was something like a miracle to Xander's eyes- metaphorically, of course, since he only had the one. He deliberately gave her space, first returning to his more distant seat on the recliner, and then leaving the room altogether to give her a few moments alone.

Faith wasn't saying much, but neither was she overly snappy or defensive, at least for the moment. Of course, Xander hadn't been saying much either, and both had done what they could to avoid looking at each other more than necessary. To him she seemed tired, too much so to care what he thought, and too deeply involved in her own thoughts to question what his might be.

Xander made her a few sandwiches, grabbed a granola bar, a bag of chips, and an apple as well, along with two sodas, and set them before her on the coffee table, still careful not to meet her eyes. He hoped that if he didn't comment about the food or her need to eat, but rather simply set it down before her, Faith would eat it without thinking much about it.

Sure enough, when Xander placed the food down and returned to the kitchen to get himself a sandwich as well, taking his place at the recliner with it a few minutes later, Faith was watching him, her eyes narrowed slightly, brow creased, as if she were trying to figure him out. By Xander's third bite, when he continued to neither try to speak to her nor ask her to eat, she picked up a sandwich hesitantly and began to eat as well. She proceeded more slowly than usual at first, perhaps because of a general lack of appetite, perhaps because of stomach issues, maybe even simply because she was now unused to meals or people watching her eat. Within the next minute her speed had picked up considerably, and by the time Xander had finished his single sandwich, everything he'd put before her was gone. Noticing this, he wanted to grin, but instead he simply got up and returned with more food, making a mental note to himself that he would need to get more groceries.

He waited until she had finished the next round of food, until she had relaxed her posture noticeably and her pallor was a much healthier shade than when she had first awakened, until the quite between them was almost, if not entirely, comfortable. He waited until he was sure she wasn't about to leave, sure that she had no intention of speaking at the moment. He waited until he didn't know how much longer he could put it off, until he was almost squirming in his seat, and then he asked her, his voice quiet.

"Faith…what do you want to do now?"

Her eyes slid over to meet his eye slowly, then slid away again. She exhaled, shrugging in one almost sighing gesture.

"Don't know. Guess I'll have to find out."

"You know you can stay here," Xander went on, trying to meet her wandering eyes, to convey to her the sincerity of his words. "For as long as you want or need. I would like you to, if that's what you decide you want to do."

"Not doing that. Can't," Faith refuted almost immediately, shaking her head, and she did glance at him briefly again, her eyes dark with thought, distant. "Can't. I should get back to my own place… you don't need my mooching off you, getting under your feet, and I'm not gonna do it." She gave a faint, crooked half smile briefly. "Don't want you under my feet either, so don't worry about it."

"It's not mooching, especially if you're invited. And you are," Xander corrected, and he smiled back, pleased by her smile, however brief and contrived it might be. "you did plenty of things before to help me out, save the world, I'd just be doing a little favor. Actually you'd be doing ME a favor, since I asked you."

"No," Faith repeated, shaking her head, but there wasn't much conviction in her words, nor was her tone very vehement… especially for Faith. Looking at her, listening to her, Xander's hopes rose again, for it looked to him like she was saying no just for the sake of saying it rather than because she really wanted to or was really determined to follow her own insistence. "No, I told you, I'm not doing that, Xander, so you can stop asking already."

"Asking? I'm not asking, I'm begging," Xander said in a playful tone, and he took a chance, sliding off of the recliner and dropping to his knees, though he was careful to keep a measured distance away from her. He intertwined his fingers in a mock pleading pose and raised his voice into a high-pitched near whine, giving his best puppy eyes and hoping that she would laugh or smile at his antics…or at least not knock him upside the head.

"Please Faith, please… come on, stay. Stay today. Stay a couple of days. Stay a week. Mooch off me! I'm begging you to mooch…I'm pleading for mooching… I don't know how I can stand for you not to mooch when it's been so long since I've had the opportunity to be moochee instead of moocher…"

For a few moments Faith just stared at him, eyes narrowed. She seemed unable to decide if he was making fun of her and she should kick him in the balls and yell at him, or if he was serious, or just being Xander. Finally she just smirked slightly, to his relief, and shook her head.

"You're just hoping to catch me in the shower, man, I know your game. Didn't you get enough of that already?"

"You got me," Xander smiled, getting back to his feet, and he had to work not to smile even more obviously because the little show of silliness seemed to have worked. She hadn't said she would stay with him, but neither had she said that she wouldn't. And from Faith, that was about as good of a promise as he could expect.

Her smirk faded quickly though, and Faith eyed him more seriously, her tone darkening to match her expression as she asked him, "Did you tell them about me?"

As ambiguous as the question was, Xander knew exactly who and what Faith was referring to… she wanted to know if he had told Giles, Willow, or any of the others about finding her, about the events over the past couple of days that he had witnessed and taken part in. Faith could not disguise that this was no casual question, that she was deeply interested in its answer, and she watched him closely, her face still, yet a mere flicker of movement away from… some intense response that Xander hastened to defuse from ever occurring.

"No," he replied quickly, shaking his head. "No, I didn't tell them anything."

Faith watched him for a few more moments, eyes narrowed, as though she were searching him out, assessing his truthfulness. What she saw must have satisfied her, for she nodded abruptly, a single fast incline of her head.

"Good."

The word was muttered, meant for her own ears more than this, and she exhaled, taking the opportunity to stretch, to look away, to bring herself to look closer to okay than Xander had seen her since…well, since. But whether this was because she truly was, or because she simply felt coherent and aware enough to act right now, was debatable.

Xander hesitated, wondering briefly if this was the right moment. But would there ever really be a right moment? So far all he had been doing was plunging forth blindly, hoping he didn't cause too much damage… and wasn't that about all he really could do?

"I wanted to talk to you about that, Faith," he said quickly, before he lost his nerve, before Faith got up, walked away, and the window of opportunity was closed. "Can we do that for a minute?"

Faith's eyes went to his eye, and there was that familiar suspicion again, the familiar guardedness, the familiar tension and readiness to flee… damn. So it wasn't gone, of course it wasn't gone, it was only set aside sometimes. He would have to risk it though…he had to, if they were to go through with this.

"Do what?" she was asking, the edge returning to her voice, and Xander had to stop himself from taking a visible and audible deep breath before plunging forth.

"I think we do need to tell them about what's been going on, Faith… at least Giles, anyway. Not about everything- not about anything, if you don't want to… except the dream. The dream is probably important though, Faith, I think-"

"No," Faith said flatly. She didn't raise her voice, didn't sound angry, but there was no room for argument in her tone. "No way in hell, Xander. No."

There might not have been room for arguing in her words, but that didn't prevent Xander from trying, and he did his best with it.

"Listen Faith- I think you need to tell Giles," he said quietly, but persistently, looking into her almost stony gaze earnestly, hoping. "What you've been seeing… the way you've been seeing it, over and over…it's not normal. I think that you know it's not normal. It's not just grief, it's not because you're losing it or crazy or anything like that. You know that, right? I don't know a lot, but I know that's not true."

He paused, glancing at her quickly, but Faith did not respond, her jaw set. He hurried on, hoping she was listening and not just trying to keep herself from punching him out the front door.

"You know you have Slayer dreams, Faith… you know they mean something, that they're not just dreams. And you…you and Buffy…"

He said the name gently, watching her, but he still saw the slight flinch that it caused, the pain that flickered across her eyes.

"You and Buffy had a special connection with dreams…didn't you? This dream, I think it means something, Faith. And I think you need to tell Giles so we can help you figure out what that something is."

"There's nothing he can do to help," Faith said roughly, shaking her head. "Even if I NEEDED help, which I don't-"

Uh oh… Xander thought, signs of backsliding… he better back of a little, she's already closing up again…

"Then I know what he'd do. He'd poke and prod me and question me all around until he came up with the same conclusion, which is that she's letting me know whose fault it is, as usual. Bad enough that she's blaming me, don't want the whole fuckin' world to join in, alright?"

"Faith, he wouldn't," Xander protested, and he moved to sit beside her again, even when she stiffened, keeping herself apart from him. "I don't think that's true anyway. I think maybe Buffy's trying to tell you something-"

"Yeah, how much I suck," Faith cut him off, and though her words were brusque, derisive, he saw the pain flicker across her features at her own words, knew that as much as she tried to make it seem like she was speaking flippantly, what she was saying did hurt her. "That I fucked up like usual, that's what she's trying to tell me, I don't need Giles to interpret that for me."

"No," Xander protested, shaking his head hurriedly, thinking to himself with the beginnings of exasperation that it was almost impossible to get ideas of Faith's changed once they had occurred to her. "No, Faith, I'm telling you, that's NOT it, that's NOT what I'm saying. It wasn't even your fault, why would Buffy be blaming you for anything?"

Faith looked at him with one eyebrow arching in seeming disbelief, even letting out a dry bark of a laugh.

"Xan, you haven't been tuning in to the Buffy and Faith show of the past six years, have you? What, is it the free porn channels distracting your attention, or just cartoons?"

Xander had to concede her point there. Their relationship had been pretty rocky, and before the past year- and even during it, to a lesser extent- had consisted of a lot of fists meeting faces and fingers pointing, whether to blame the other woman or to flip her off, a lot of literal and metaphorical hand movements that didn't usually involve anything approaching affection.

Usually…as far as Xander knew, anyway… wasn't like either woman had never kept secrets of her endeavors to herself before especially when it came to sexual encounters. Although Faith was usually much more open about those than Buffy had been-

Whoa…just whoa. How the crap had he ended up down THAT trail of thought, AGAIN?

But however tumultuous the Slayers' relationship had been, Xander couldn't see Buffy blaming Faith for her death, being so spiteful as to continue to haunt her dreams for weeks at a time to accuse her…and for what purpose? To ruin her life, to drive her into insanity? To drive her to suicide, or murder?

No, just no, Buffy couldn't do that, Buffy wouldn't do that, and if Faith was thinking clearly she would know that. How could she think Buffy thought it was her fault when she hadn't even been there? She hadn't-

The idea struck him suddenly, and Xander felt himself still, an almost fearful near understanding coming over him. If this were true…if she…then…

"Faith," he said softly, and he watched her closely, even scooted a little closer to her on the couch, praying that his eye wasn't too intently fixed on hers, that she didn't see judgment in his features. "Faith… were you there?"

Faith frowned, not seeming to understand, running a hand absently through her hair, combing it back from her face. "What?"

"With…with Buffy. When she…when it got her… were you there? Did you see her…or find her…or…"

The look on her face- horror, anger, and something like a sense of betrayal- told Xander quickly that whether he was right or not, this might not have been the greatest timing to ask her, and he rushed to try to soften the question, putting up a hand as if to stop her words from coming as he spoke.

"It would be okay if you were…it still wouldn't be your fault. I mean, from what you said, the thing was enormous, and you would have…it's just, if you were there, and now you dream about it, maybe-"

"No, I wasn't fuckin' THERE, Xander, you think I would have been there and, and- what, you think I let it kill her, you think I let her die?! You think I- what, you think I ran off to save my own ass and just left her?!" Faith sputtered, her voice gaining rhythm and greater coherency toward the end, rising in volume. Her eyebrows were slanted inward toward her nose, her cheeks flushing, and with a quick glance Xander saw that her hands were gripping her knees so harshly he bet she'd be bruised later…and if it had been him she was gripping like that, something would be broken. He was profoundly grateful that it wasn't him.

"No…no, Faith, of course not," he hastened to assure her, and he definitely didn't now, not after that furious, yet also subtly hurt, reaction. "No, I just thought I'd ask, I didn't really-"

"I wouldn't do that, Xander, fuck, how the hell do you still think I could do that?" Faith demanded, and the hurt was a little more obvious now mingling with her anger, both in her voice and face. She stared at him, still gripping her knees, keeping her body rigid and separate from his, and Xander wanted to kick himself. How many screw ups did it take before he made her take off, or pull back entirely once again?

"I know. I'm sorry… I know you wouldn't," he said, and she watched him for several heavily intense moments, wary, before finally exhaling slightly, her shoulders falling, and letting her eyes drift away.

"Might as well have been, though," she almost mumbled, keeping her face averted. "Should have been…but I wasn't. I wasn't."

"I know," Xander told her, and he reached out slowly, briefly, gently touching the knee she had just nearly crushed with her own hand. He was praying all the while that she wouldn't instinctively grab it and crush him too. "Neither was I."

Their soft admission hung in the air for several seconds; neither moved, the weight of them hanging heavily. Finally Xander broke the silence, his voice still soft.

"I think she might need help, Faith… I think…maybe we can still help her. Maybe…" he hesitated, not wanting to say bring her back. None of them who had been there the last time they had done so would want to do so again…it had not been Buffy's desire for them to, and they wouldn't hurt her twice, if she was at peace. And as much as he wanted Buffy back again, Xander wanted her to be happy even more. And he didn't want to get Faith's hopes up that Buffy would ever again be alive.

But what if she wasn't at peace…what if this time she really WAS in a hell dimension? What if that was why she was sending Faith those dreams, to ask for help, or to warn her?

"Maybe she still needs us somehow," he concluded slowly, and Faith looked at him, her eyes softer, almost scared…yet hopeful, vulnerable in a way he almost hated to witness in her.

"Do you… do you think that maybe she's not really dead…or maybe we can bring her back, like the last time? Do you think that's why she…"

The words were quiet, almost hesitant, as though Faith was reluctant to ask, and yet the hope so plainly showing itself in their depths, the hope she probably didn't realize was so plain to be seen, overshadowed her reticence. Xander had to look away before replying to gather himself, for she was asking the very question he had not wanted to have to respond to.

"I don't know," he said carefully, not wanting to sound as if he didn't hope for the same thing, but also not wanting to make her more excited or anticipant of miracles than she should be at this point. "Maybe…probably not, Faith, most likely not. But if we look into this, find out more about what's going on, then we can figure out what we need to do for sure."

Faith's eyes shifted away from him, and for several moments she was silent, her shoulders once more drawn up into a tense line. When she exhaled, turning to face him again, her face was carefully set, difficult to read.

"Okay…" she nodded jerkily, shrugged, and then exhaled again before continuing. "Whatever. Tell him."

Disbelieving, Xander started to smile, had a thought to reach for her arm or shoulder, but almost as though she were reading his mind, Faith stepped back, her features tightening her voice almost sharp as she addressed him again.

"I'm not staying in the room while you do it, I don't' want to listen to your rendition of 'We gotta screw Faith's head on if we can even find the right size screws to do it' with the guy. And I'm sure as hell not talking to him myself, I'll do enough of that later. So I'm in your room, feel free to whisper dramatically or whatever shit you need," she said abruptly, and without waiting for his response, strode across the room towards the small hallway, grasping the handle to Xander's bedroom door. Turning quickly just before opening it, she added, "Just the dream shit, okay, that's all he needs to hear."

That said, she disappeared inside his room, slamming it just a little harder than was necessary. Xander smiled, still marveling at the rather astounding fact that she had actually agreed, that she was actually going to talk to Giles. He hadn't expected it to be nearly that easy… and knowing he better not waste a minute, in case she changed her mind, he immediately went to the phone and dialed Giles's number.

Giles answered on the sixth ring, sounding rather groggy yet also anxious, and Xander realized listening to him that it was rather late at night, maybe even early in the morning. Well, that couldn't be helped- whatever the hour, the man needed to get over fast, before Faith had too much time to rethink what she had agreed to.

"Giles, it's Xander. Nothing's wrong, don't worry. Well, maybe nothing's wrong. I hope. Well, actually I'm not really sure until-"

"Xander, would it be remiss of me to ask you to actually describe what is wrong rather than to speculate as to whether or not wrong is being accomplished, particularly when you awakened me at two in the morning to do so?" Giles said in a rather peevish tone, and Xander would have had to snicker at the wording of the request if he hadn't been so serious about the call.

"Yeah, sorry for- speculating…or whatever. Giles, I'm, I'm with Faith right now."

"Faith?" Giles repeated, and Xander could almost see him becoming more alert and less irritable at this news, could picture him frowning slightly, one hand moving to touch the bridge of his glasses. "Where are you… where did you find her? Why, I haven't seen her since… I had imagined she must have left…"

His voice trailed off, and Xander knew what he was probably thinking. Giles hadn't imagined anything about Faith consciously, most likely… most likely, he had simply not given her a thought. Just as Xander hadn't…just as the others hadn't.

"How is she?" Giles was asking, and there was concern in his tone now, a seriousness it had lacked before. "Is she in some sort of trouble…is she-"

"She's…well, I'm just going to jump into this," Xander began, and his eye flitted to his bedroom door, wondering if Faith was listening. "She's been having dreams… dreams of Buffy. Of…of Buffy dying."

There was a pause on the other line, and Xander knew that Giles was processing this, his mind working as he replied.

"Slayer dreams?"

"I think so… I think you need to come, Giles. We're at my apartment…the sooner the better. And when I say that, I mean now," Xander added, lowering his voice slightly as he glanced at his door again.

"I see," Giles said in a mutter, the concern and understanding nevertheless discernible in his tone. "I'm on my way. Should Willow or-"

"No, just you… no one else for now. And Giles? Put on some jet packs, alright?"

He could just picture Giles blinking at that. "Jet packs?"

"Never mind…I mean to hurry."

Hanging up the phone, Xander sighed before turning back towards his bedroom door, eyeing it for a few moments. God he hoped this would help… couldn't hurt, could it? If Faith talked to Giles… at least she was here, at least she was sober and had eaten, had talked to him. At least…

He knocked on the door, calling out her name. When Faith didn't reply, he knocked again, thinking that she was simply ignoring him, gathering herself, perhaps. Or maybe she was in the bathroom .

The third time he knocked with no response his dread rose up sharply, and Xander moved to open the door, discovering that it was locked. Another few moments of maneuvering with his license to open it and he saw what he had suspected…his window was wide open, the curtains pushed aside, and Faith was nowhere to be found.

As Xander stared at it, his stomach sinking in disappointment and worry, he knew there was no point in trying to find Faith, yet again. It was dark, late, and she was fast, sober, and a Slayer… and had obviously changed her mind. He couldn't make her return.

Shit…

He had to call Giles back, of course, and explain what had happened. He didn't tell him about the dreams. That was for Faith to do, and if she so obviously didn't want to, it wasn't his place for him to do it for her, especially since he knew so few details when it came down to it. He tried to keep the explanation of why Giles was no longer needed vague, but it was difficult. Giles wanted to know what was going on, and with good reason.

They didn't talk for long. Xander didn't think he could have. After hanging up he collapsed onto his couch, very aware that Faith had laid there such a short time ago, and struggled to let his mind run down.

He had thought he could help her…he had thought that he WAS helping her. But clearly he wasn't, and he couldn't… was there really nothing he could do? Were his only choices either to continue to watch her destroy herself, or to let her go, knowing it would end in the same results?

He didn't sleep… he couldn't sleep. Eventually his mind drifted into a numb emptiness that was close to it, but it was not true lack of consciousness so much as a lull.

Xander was not sure how much time had passed when his doorbell rang; perhaps he had drifted off at some point after all, for when he sat up, he could see the light dimly filtering through his blinds. Thinking that maybe Giles had come after all, though not understanding why he wouldn't have called first, he stumbled to the door, opening it with a sigh.

Faith stood before him, her head lowered slightly, shoulders hunched. Her hair was tangled, her bangs half covering her cheeks, and her clothes were grass stained, but she appeared uninjured, if very tired. When she raised her eyes to Xander's face, he could tell that she was sober, though she seemed barely able to continue standing for much longer. He wondered briefly if she had just been running, running nonstop, from the moment she left his apartment, to look as tired as she appeared. Even as she attempted a half smile, he could see the exhaustion in every sense of the word heavy in her features, and Xander felt for her as if it were his own.

"You came back," he said softly, not yet backing away from the door, and Faith let her shoulders rise and fall.

"Yep…like a bad penny. Or a boomerang… penny's probably closer though…"

She swallowed, her voice dropping, the attempt at flippancy gone as she spoke again.

"Don't know where else to go."

It wasn't what she said so much as the way she said it…soft, without pretense, without guardedness or anger…that made Xander's heart squeeze, his hope restored. He had to work to keep his smile at her small, so as not to draw attention to the near joy he felt at her words.

"Well, now you do…Faith? Come in."

He stepped back, making room for her to follow, and Faith stepped forward. Reaching for her hand, he waited for her to slowly put it into his, and then Xander drew her with him inside his front door.

The time has changed nothing at all

You're still the only one that feels like home

I've tried cutting the ropes, tried letting go

But you're still the only one that feels like home.

"Ten Days," Missy Higgins