A.N: Apologies for the lengthy wait. I've had a lot on my plate and only recently found time to finish this chapter. I hope it was worth the delay! As always feedback is greatly appreciated. Thanks for your patience and enjoy.

Disclaimer: I own nothing created by Joss Whedon and his affiliates.

The Catalyst (Part II)

It took two days.

Two days for the Sunnydale Hellmouth to explode forth an endless army of blood-sucking monsters overnight.

Two days for Wolfram & Hart to transform a quarter of the city into hell on earth.

Two days for the sky to turn dark, as a blanket of crimson flushed the heavens and smothered Los Angeles in an eternal red night.

Two days for riots, looting, fighting and demons to take to the streets and turn friendly neighbourhoods into bloody warzones.

Two days for the LAPD and emergency services to become overwhelmed by the unfolding chaos; the National Guard stepping in to take control of a situation they couldn't even comprehend.

The forces of evil clashed relentlessly in the west of the city and the ungodly sounds from the battle could be heard from where Faith stood. She watched a tank roll along the eerily deserted Wilshire Boulevard followed by a progression of military vehicles. Speakerphones on the latter declared a state of city-wide emergency and ordered civilians to stay at home until they could be escorted safely from the city.

Faith knew better. There was no rescue. It was every man, woman and child for themselves. After everything that had taken place at Wolfram & Hart she and the rest of the gang were emotionally and mentally exhausted. No one could put into words the loss they had suffered, the ally they'd lost – the friend. But there had been no reprieve to mourn the loss of Angel. They still had a mission and it was dedicated to getting as many people out of the city alive by spreading the word of what awaited them if they stayed. They had to fight back against the opportunistic scum bags that had risen to prey on the carcass of this dying city even though most times the effort seemed in vain.

Faith walked past burnt out storefronts, commercial products strewn across the sidewalk with broken glass and the occasional body. The city was in meltdown. It appeared that every foul thing to live in the shadows of the City of Angels had come out of hiding in the wake of the coming apocalypse. The vile joy was unanimous, despite the power struggle taking place between two ancient forces of evil, every creature of the underworld and beyond spoke of The First's approach. She'd seen the brazen confidence in the fights she'd had over the past two days. Seen unbelievable atrocities committed by human and demon alike. Watched normal blue collar families cut out their own eyes in service to their new dark master. On every sneering face, ugly smile and hate-filled laugh she'd witnessed a revolution among her prey.

The monsters knew they're day had come. They knew they were going to win.

Faith stopped outside an unremarkable tavern. The sign above the door said: The Devil's Gin Joint. This was the kind of place she'd look for trouble. This was the kind of dive she'd waste her life in. It only served to grant Faith a huge sense of irony to learn that this was where she'd find Buffy.

"So this is where you're hidin' now." She said, stepping over the bloody mess of demon bodies and vampire dust that lay strewn across the hardwood floors of the depraved little gin joint. The name outside had been less subtle than she first imagined. She ran her fingers across the bar top as she approached the other slayer cautiously. "Gotta say I like the change of scenery. This is my kinda place."

Buffy ignored her; content in sitting on top of the bar with her back to Faith as she stared forward into a panel of mirrors that decorated the back wall. The glass was bruised with web-like cracks and splattered in viscera and blood. The horn of a demon had been imbedded into the mirrored surface causing the owner's head to hover oddly in front of the wall, yellowed teeth visible in its gaping mouth. Buffy's appearance was hidden beneath the hood that encapsulated her golden locks and delicate features. Her reflection was fractured by the broken glass but revealed several strands of dirty blonde hair that framed her face, obscuring her brow with only her nose and tightly drawn lips visible. When Faith tried to angle herself in an attempt to catch a glimpse of the girl's face she turned her violently turned her head away. At this close proximity Faith thought she heard an odd scratching sound just audible under the racket of the small television that blared loudly from its perch above the bar.

"Back to the silent treatment, are we?" Faith asked animatedly. Buffy remained mute and glared straight ahead. "Great."

Resigned to accept her sister slayer's stubborn behaviour, Faith took a seat on a stool two away from where Buffy sat; she felt it best to keep some distance between them. She picked up a beer bottle near her, weighed it hopefully in her hands, and then put it down again in disappointment when she discovered it was empty. She noted surreptitiously that Buffy was cradling an entire bottle of vodka to herself, the majority of its contents already gone.

"Whatcha gotta do to get a drink round here?" Faith asked as she drummed her knuckles on the hard wood of the bar top."You don't look like you want to share. We could always wrestle for it...I'm up for suggestions. Open minded girl like that." She added lewdly with a smirk.

Faith rolled her eyes when Buffy chose to continue to deny her existence. Her gaze flickered around the room, taking in the broken furniture, torn upholstery and a leather clad biker demon pinned to a wall with a pool cue before they settled on the back room; its door swinging gently back and forth on creaky hinges. Buffy took a generous swig from her bottle and swayed slightly.

"Well this isn't a complete waste of my time." Faith mumbled to herself; it was clear by now that she was the only one listening anyway. She hitched herself over the long tabletop, swinging her legs over the other side as she sat to procure the beverage of her choosing. His face caught her eye after several seconds of perusing the shelves. She slowly turned to take in the bloodied body that had lain hidden behind the bar until now. It wasn't a demon. It was the body of man, around his early twenties, and he was clearly dead.

"You...found him..." Buffy suddenly spoke, her words incoherent and lazy due to her inebriety.

"Did...you...?" Faith couldn't finish the sentence. The room was a portrait of the brutal violence that had taken place before she'd entered. There was no sign of grace or skill in the manner the clients of this bar had met their fate. It was bloody and gruesome, as if a wild animal had torn apart the room and everyone in it. It was possible that an innocent bystander could have been caught in the fray. Faith dreaded the idea that Buffy could sink so low, to kill without caution or remorse, to become something so vile and cruel that she perverted everything Faith knew her to be.

"Nuh-uh. Vampire." Buffy slurred. Faith felt an ironic rush of relief at the word. "They took 'im here...I...follow...followed. Hit...hit the...jack pot." Buffy rose her bottle in the air, celebrating her victory with no one in particular.

"You let them do this?" Faith tone was quiet with restrained anger. The countless horrific sights she'd seen in the past couple of days had hastily forced a moral conscience upon her, something new and uncomfortable to adjust to, especially at the present moment.

"He's...got holes...in 'is neck. An' he's...behin' a bar." Buffy continued, ignoring Faith's question and furious tone. "He's a...holey bartender!" The blonde snickered loudly to herself, her head moving down to come to rest against her folded knees as her slumped form shook with uncontrolled laughter.

"Jesus, B..."

"Sorry...in poor taste I guess..." Buffy shrugged callously as she sat back up. The sound of scratching had intensified since Buffy had begun to talk. From where Faith now sat she could see the source of the sound. The scythe stood erect and upside down in Buffy's other hand, as the topmost edge of its blade dug long, deep marks into the varnished wood beneath the slayer. The sound became louder and the back and forth rhythm gained speed as Buffy appeared to be listening to the news bulletin blaring from the television above her. Faith turned her attention to the anchorman on the grainy screen, his urgent tone dragging her apprehensive gaze from the scythe's ministrations.

"-the military appears to be moving west, towards Beverly Hills and Santa Monica, where the vast majority of the violence seems to be taking place. It is still not clear what chain of events led to the bloodshed over the past few days but mass evacuations from areas in immediate danger are being issued. We urge our viewers to stay at home and wait to be evacuated safely."

The news reporter paused as the image in the top left corner of the screen changed to show the remains of a burning skyscraper.

"Meanwhile, the explosion that took place two days ago at a law firm in the central business district, believed to have been the result of an unexplainable chemical leak continues to baffle experts. Contamination in the south west of the city has been the cause of media blackout as the National Guard as closed off an area of some six square miles. However, eyewitness reports coming through, mention casualties in the hundreds as well as strange sightings of-"

The metal box erupted in a shower of electrical sparks and a short burst of flame as a stool leg pierced the television screen like a wooden spear.

"That was sane." Faith noted dryly after a beat.

Buffy simply took another long drink from her bottle.

"It's not like you're the only one who misses him." Faith barked abruptly, riding a fresh wave of anger as her last thread of patience severed. "Why does it always have to be about you? You dated him for less than one percent of his life and you act like you have the right to throw the world's biggest hissy fit!"

"Shut up, Faith." Buffy slurred with calm disinterest.

"No. You need to stop this. There are people dependin' on you to get them through this fuckin' shitstorm. So stop bein' a selfish lil' brat, put on ya big girl pants and get over it — he's dead."

Faith had expected a reaction. She hadn't expected Buffy to move as quickly as she did. Within a second she had found herself thrown viciously back on to the black bar top, glass breaking beneath her as the jagged teeth of half a vodka bottle pressed painfully against her exposed neck. Faith felt the iron grip the other slayer had on several strands of her long dark hair, holding her head down painfully, as Buffy perched above her with all the rage of a wild animal, eyes like thunder.

Faith gulped, wide-eyed as she adjusted to her new position and shot Buffy a cocky grin stained with fear.

"Well...this is intimate." The points of the broken bottle pushed deeper into her throat and she flinched. "Is this how it is from now on?" Her smile vanished as a serious and hard expression transformed her face. "I push, you snap, and someone ends up in the emergency room? Played that game, B, didn't end well for me. Not looking for a repeat."

Buffy's gaze continued to burn down at her, all traces of drunken self-pity gone thanks to Faith's bold sobering technique. Her breath came out in short ragged intervals. Her teeth visibly clenched together as her hair hung in twisted vines around her the snarl contorting the blonde's features. She really did look crazed and beyond salvation, Faith thought with fear and sadness. She waited in the endless seconds that followed, waited for a killing blow or fatal wound, bracing herself as Buffy's face drew closer to her own. Her words came quiet and slow but did nothing to hide her blinding rage.

"Don't ever talk about him like that again or I swear I'll finish what I started that night on the roof. You think you had this special connection to him. That you get a say in how I feel because you think you knew him. You connected over an understanding of how it feels to murder innocent people —paint me jealous." Buffy spat sarcastically. "You didn't know him like I knew him. You were never that close. Angel's dead. Spike's dead." Her fierce expression faltered and the broken bottle moved away from her neck as she paused before continuing. "They're all going to die because I can't stop this. I want to stop this Faith but I can't. I want to stop all of this, why can't I stop it?"

Faith felt the pressure of Buffy's body increase as the other slayer sagged against her, her forehead pressing into her left shoulder. Her quiet sobs shook her petite figure and resonated through Faith as the brunette lay prone between the bar top and her distraught friend, unsure of what to do next.

"I can't take this anymore...it's too much. Too much...pain. It hurts. It all hurts. My head..." Buffy pushed herself up and away from the bar, letting the scythe and bottle clatter loudly to the floor. She stood amongst the monsters she'd slain as her hands clamped to either side of her head. She ran her fingers through her hair, wavering on the spot and wiping at her eyes as her tears came freely. Her face was finally out of shadow and revealed a mask of complete and utter misery. Faith sat herself up and dropped down from the bar, her eyes darting from Buffy to the scythe, deciding her next move very carefully. Buffy was clearly losing her mind and becoming unpredictable.

Faith stepped slowly over to the disregarded weapon and picked it up, her eyes trained on the other slayer but Buffy appeared too preoccupied with her turmoil to notice Faith's action. When she finally did look at Faith her eyes went wide.

"No!" Buffy shouted abruptly, grabbing the weapon out of Faith's hands before she could withhold it. "I need it! I n-need it!" Buffy cried furiously as she shot Faith an accusatory glare. "I need it to remind me!"

"Remind you?" Faith asked in bewilderment, but knew she wouldn't like the answer.

"Of how I failed. How I deserve this..." Buffy said pathetically, her eyes turning downcast to the gruesome sight around her feet.

"Jesus, Buffy..." Faith's tone of disbelief caused the blonde's bloodshot, watery eyes to glance up at her. "You're a mess." Faith shook her head as her hands came to rest on her hips, unable to stop the dark chuckle that left her. She sighed in exasperation.

Buffy stood awkwardly before her, unaware of what to do or say when the moment was interrupted by a large four-armed demon that appeared in the doorway of the backroom. Faith whirled round in surprise only to be met by two left fists that hit her like a concrete sledgehammer. She collided with a table and lay momentarily stunned in its accompanying booth. Her head span wildly as she cradled it in her open palms. Faith steadied herself on her feet, forcing her legs not to buckle as the sounds of a fight taking place urged her to help Buffy.

When she finally looked up through bleary eyes she found the remains of her assailant splattered around the vicinity; its armless, headless torso joining the pile of the previously mutilated. There was no sign of Buffy.

Faith growled loudly as she kicked out at the dead demon and watched it roll limply across the floor.

"Fuck."

Dawn watched Robin shift restlessly in his sleep as he lay in the bed they'd moved down into Angel's old office especially for his weakened condition. Faith and Gunn had acquired him from the hospital yesterday as Faith had pointed out he'd be safer closer to home. And she'd been right to think so. Dawn had heard them describe the hospital as a chaotic hellhole. The Emergency Room was overcrowded with the casualties that steadily streamed in, bodies lay bleeding out on forgotten gurneys that lined corridor walls, people begged for help to anyone that passed. The usually sterile white walls were occasionally found to be smeared in fresh blood as nurses and doctors rushed frantically through the corridors to the groans and wails of the injured that filled every available bed. At one point, Faith had mentioned encountering a young boy, at least ten years old, huddled in a corner. She'd ventured over to help him but when he turned to face her Faith had recoiled in horror. His face lacked the innocent features of a child, replaced by a monstrous mask of teeth and rough skin; soulless black eyes had watched her placidly as the creature continued to dine on what seemed to be a human arm.

The state of the hospital and thinly spread medical staff ultimately made the mission of extracting Robin extremely easy. They even managed to 'borrow' a few essential medical supplies in all the madness taking place around them. This explained the I.V set up beside him and the bottles of painkillers organised on Angel's old desk; which had been squeezed between the wall and the bed.

"Do you think he'll be okay?" Dawn voiced her thoughts as she leant against the door frame of the room in which Robin slept. Giles peered over the top of the large, leather-bond book he was reading. He was sat at a large table covered in various books and texts; everything that had been salvaged from Wolfram & Hart and Wesley's personal collection. Willow sat at the other side of the table, typing confidently on the keys of a laptop she'd been lent by Fred. She'd made no reaction to Dawn's question. "I mean he's been out cold since he got here."

"I imagine in the rush to remove him from the hospital the journey proved taxing for him." Giles explained as he straightened up in his chair, "Time, as they say, heals all wounds. I am afraid time is all Robin needs right now."

"Well I think the drugs are helping a lot too." Dawn added with a lopsided grin. Giles gave a genuine smile and folded his arms.

"Yes, I suppose they deserve some credit too."

Willow closed her laptop and got up from the table.

"I'm gonna go find Fred and see if she can help me with this." She said, gesturing to her laptop before tucking it under her arm.

"Is it anything I might be able to assist you on?" Giles offered, his brow rising with curiosity.

Willow shook her head and smiled politely.

"It's okay. I've been meaning to talk to her anyway."

Giles nodded curtly and gave Willow a thin smile before she headed upstairs.

Dawn carefully watched her walk out of sight before she spoke again.

"She was lying."

Giles turned to regard her sternly and there was an uncertain pause as Dawn worried she'd angered the aging Englishman. However, she was relieved to hear him finally say, "I suspected so, yes."

"Why though?" Dawn asked in a hushed tone as she joined him at the heavy-set table, excited that her assumptions had been affirmed by someone else.

"It wouldn't surprise me if she just wanted to be alone. I couldn't guess how draining the last few weeks have been for her. With Kennedy's passing and now Angel — I think she berates herself for letting him talk her into leaving him at Wolfram & Hart."

"But that wasn't her fault." Dawn said as she rested her chin upon her fist, listening to Giles intently.

"Perhaps not. But I think she's become keen on the habit of blaming herself for all our misgivings of late." Giles said sadly. Dawn was silent for a moment as she mused over his words. She appeared to be hesitating on conveying a piece of information, one important enough to cause her to squirm uncomfortably in her seat.

"What is it?" Giles asked with concern, noticing her uneasiness.

"I hear her sometimes, in her room. She talks to herself." Dawn revealed. She kept her voice to a low hush as if worried Willow would know she was the topic at the reading table. Giles brow furrowed with worry as he waited for the anxious girl to continue. "Sometimes it's too quiet to make out the words. Other times...other times it's like she's having a conversation with someone. Like she's telling someone else to be quiet or having an argument. Yesterday, it was so bad I was convinced she was having a fight with one of you so I knocked on her door."

"And?" Giles pushed, his calm resolve only hinting at the anxiety caused by Dawn's confession.

"It was weird. She went quiet as soon as I knocked. But I could hear her still whispering to someone else. When she opened the door..." Dawn's eyebrows scrunched together as she recalled the event in her mind, "...it was just her. There was no one else in the room."

"What did she say when you confronted her?"

"She claimed it wasn't her. That I must have been imagining things..." Dawn deadpanned, showing she clearly didn't believe Willow's response.

"I see." Giles remained silent for a long moment, cleaning his glasses as his eyes moved blindly in thought.

"Do you think...do you think it's The First?" Dawn offered with breathless expectation.

"Is what The First?" Faith asked as she entered into the hotel, announcing her presence to the room and startling Dawn and Giles from their private conversation. Dawn really hated slayer hearing sometimes.

"We were just saying...that...that..."

"On 2nd thought, don't tell me." Faith interrupted as she dropped a duffel bag of supplies onto the reception desk. "Anythin' involvin' that omniscient S.O.B is never good. I've had enough of hearin' about his handiwork."

Faith sat down heavily on the padded lobby seats with an aching groan and started taking off her boots. She looked over at the table the others were sat at and sighed with relief when her first foot was released from its prison of black leather and rubber.

"My feet are killin'." She clarified unnecessarily.

"Busy day?" Giles asked conversationally.

"Could say that." Faith chuckled humourlessly. She removed the other boot and let it drop carelessly to the floor. She stretched her body out flat on the soft ring of cushioned-seats, still in her denim jacket and pot marked jeans.

"How are things out there?" Giles queried with a penetrating look. Faith's head rolled around from its comfortable position so she could regard him with incredulity.

"You're kiddin' me, right?"

"I'm rarely one to kid." Giles jested coolly, his eyes glinting behind his glasses. After a moment a smirk grew across Faith's tired face and she exhaled a sigh that spoke a testament to the day she'd had.

"Downtown's a mess. Everything five miles around Wolfy 'n' Hart is something straight out of an Alien flick – Long Beach officially has apartments from hell to rent — tentacles obligatory."

"Did you manage to see how the battle is faring?" Giles asked with serious interest.

"I gotta look. Beverly Hills doesn't seem so glamorous when fifty foot demons are kickin' in ya mansion."

"All those celebrities..." Dawn muttered with genuine sadness.

"I personally love the irony of LA's rich and famous being the first to croak while givin' everyone else a head start." Faith admitted with a devilish smile. Giles and Dawn didn't seem to share her optimistic view of the situation.

"And check this out," Faith got up abruptly and slid something out of her sleeve as she approached the table. She sidled up next to Dawn and pulled out a painstakingly crafted sawn-off shotgun causing Giles to jump back slightly in his chair. "Nifty, huh?"

"Ah...please, aim away from the books. And our soft, mortal bodies if you could." Giles said with unease as he eyed the weapon warily.

"It's...a gun." Dawn said lamely, sounding unimpressed. "Buffy won't like it."

Half a smirk graced Faith's face as she held back on some choice remarks she'd of liked to have made at the mention of Buffy. She respected the fact that Dawn was her sister.

"Well what Buffy doesn't know won't hurt her." Faith assured Dawn with a forced smile. "Big sis has other things on her plate right now."

"Sweet shooter, Faith." Xander said with boyish excitement as he appeared from the basement. "Very 'Punisher'."

"See. At least Alex here likes my taste in weaponry." Faith beamed as she punched him playfully in the arm. "Comic book references withstandin'..."

Faith sat down at the table and listened to Xander's suggestions on what she should name her new firearm. She half-heartedly humoured him as Giles interrupted several times, asking on each interval if she was sure both barrels were empty.

"Look. Empty. Happy now?" Faith asked after becoming irritated by the watcher's constant fretting. Giles angled his head as he looked cautiously down each chamber of the shotgun. Once satisfied that neither he nor his precious literature was in any present danger, he relaxed, his head disappearing back behind his large red tome.

"Has anyone seen Lorne?" Dawn asked during a lull in the conversation between Faith and Xander. "I can't believe he's leaving." She added with sullen melancholy.

"He's upstairs. I asked for a favour before he left for his flight tonight" Giles said offhandedly from behind his book as he scratched down something on the notepad beside him. Dawn's nose scrunched up with confused curiosity.

"What kind of favour?" Dawn asked, looking half tempted to wander up the stairs and find out.

"He's just...talking to Buffy." He explained looking somewhat uncomfortable. "He'll be down soon."

"Wait. She's here?" Faith's chair clattered against the tiled floor as she stood without warning.

"Yes." Giles confirmed, eyeing the brunette with mild concern, "Why? Is something the matter?"

Faith let out a snort of derision, as if the Watcher's question was the stupidest one she'd ever heard.

"Well lemme think, apart from wasting four hours duckin' 'n' divin' through Los Angeles' rendition of war-torn Iraq to find her slippery ass, no, nothing's 'the matter'. But when I first found her she was in bad shape nursin' a gallon of Russia's finest paint thinner. I tried to track her after things got dicey but her trail went cold." Faith turned to look up at the second floor, hoping her instincts would kick in and confirm what Giles' had said, but she felt nothing close to her usual built in Buffy locator. Her eyes narrowed in mystification. "I can't believe I didn't know she was here..."

"I'm sorry, if I'd known I'd have told you immediately." Giles reassured her apologetically. He missed the anxious expression that had settled on Faith's face. She hadn't sensed Buffy in the building. She was tired and a little rough around the edges but she could still feel the slayer connection. It was just different. She'd disregarded the strange new feeling as lingering pain from an injury, not the symbiotic link between her and Buffy that she knew off by heart.

Lorne suddenly descended down the left stairwell wearing a trench coat and Fedora with a large suitcase in hand.

"Speak of the horned green guy." Xander quipped, but Giles was already on his feet, looking concerned as he made his way over to Lorne. The demon was clearly shaken. The others headed over to where the pair stood, keeping in hearing distance.

"It's bad." Lorne confessed to the watcher. "It's really, really bad and despite the fact she can carry a note as well as Dorothy herself I don't think there's a wizard down a yellow brick road or any back alley that can fix what's going on in her scrambled slayer noggin."

"In English please?" Faith said with an arched eyebrow and confused frown. "For those of us who don't speak musical."

"Buffy sang for Lorne." Giles explained with slight impatience. Faith's insides tightened as she turned her attention fully to Lorne.

"In layman's terms: Buffy is not Buffy." Lorne explained. He sighed sadly. "She's damaged. Sure, she looks pretty bad on the outside, but on the inside? She's a hollering, screaming tornado of misery and anger. So far she's directed it solely at herself but give her enough time, give her the slightest push and all that self-loathing and primal rage is gonna come firing out at one of you. And believe me I don't wanna be here when that happens."

The other three exchanged dark glances at Lorne's revelation and Faith shuffled impatiently on the balls of her feet.

"That's hardly news..." She said bitterly, gaining suspicious looks from Giles, Xander and Dawn. To defuse their apprehension she added, "...still seems dramatic you leaving like this."

"I'm leaving either way, Gorgeous." Lorne confessed as he ruffled his coat. "Since everything with this week's apocalypse and...Angel. This city just isn't for me anymore."

"Plus I got a taste of the high life at evil attorneys 'r' us." He said brightly, looking nostalgic. "Being an agent to the stars made running Caritas look like...well...like owning a karaoke bar." He admitted. "L.A's not really L.A without Hollywood and since it's pretty much burnt to the ground by now I think I should try other avenues. Maybe San Francisco."

"Suit yaself, Jolly Green. Best of luck. But for the record I'm not scared of Buffy. I can deal with crazy and angry. There was a time I spoke both fluently."

Lorne looked unconvinced as he placed his suitcase on the floor.

"Honey, bravado aside, trust me on this, you're not prepared for what she's cookin'."

"Either way I'm not gonna keep my distance just cus she might explode her feelings all over me." Faith retorted stubbornly, gesturing animatedly.

Lorne analyzed the wilful slayer for a long, hard moment before saying a single command.

"Sing."

As Faith gawped at the flamboyant green demon the fear that swept her features was astronomical.

"What?"

"Sing or you don't get visitor's permission." Lorne said bluntly, staring the brunette down.

Faith frowned disapprovingly at the idea anyone could stop her from doing anything she wanted to do.

"Just humour him, Faith." Giles said patiently. Faith's gaze flickered from Giles to Lorne several times before she relented with a sigh. She looked directly upward, her entire body tense as the only song that came to mind left her lips.

"You...spin me right round...baby, right round...like a record, baby..." Faith hesitated due to her obvious embarrassment but Lorne gestured for her to keep going. She finished the chorus through a clenched jaw, "...right round, right round- okay, that's all you're getting!" She snapped, throwing her hands in the air in protest as she willed the blush to fade from her cheeks.

"Wow. I didn't see that coming – an extremely ironic phrase in my line of work." Lorne looked torn between shock and amusement.

"I second that. Dead or Alive. Really?" Faith glared tight-lipped at Xander's remark, controlling her urge to break all of his ribs.

"I'm not talking about the song you idiot." Lorne waved Xander's comment away in annoyance. "I'm talking about what Faith here just showed me."

Faith appeared to be on the edge of doing something rash. The others watched her carefully, taking note of her tense, defensive posture, unsure if she was about to bolt or punch Lorne in the face.

"Go up." He finally said after what felt like an eternity of silence in which he spent regarding Faith curiously; much to her agitation. "But..." He placed a surprisingly firm hand on her arm as she headed for the stairs and forced her to stop and look back. "Be careful. What you say or do around her is going to shape the days to come. Remember that, Faith...or you'll regret it."

Faith had spent ten minutes hesitating on the threshold of the room Angel had assigned to Buffy. The door stood open, the slither of space between the door and frame revealing nothing in the dark room beyond. She shuffled idly on her feet; a nervous dance she'd practically perfected in the long minutes spent lingering in the hotel corridor; listening for signs of life.

Faith knew she was in there. The slayer connection, however altered, made her certain of that. Like the victim in a horror movie Faith could just sense the presence of someone unseen in the dark suite. Peering through the crack again, feeling uncharacteristically cautious, Faith scanned every inch of the room looking for a familiar face. A sudden flash of lightning illuminated the room for a fleeting moment. Faith's eyes darted around, searching for a silhouette, but she was left wanting. Faith frowned. Maybe Buffy wasn't here.

She had almost convinced herself to try a different room when a second strike of lightning cracked loudly outside the bay windows and this time Faith held back a gasp. She spotted the shadowed features of her friend half-hidden in the furthest corner of the room. The whites of her eyes visible in the flash of light, pupils fixed on the door, staring at Faith, before they descended back into darkness. Before Faith could make her entrance a soft voice called to her from the now dark corner of the room.

"What are you waiting for, Faith?"

Faith felt her hand shake on the door handle. She couldn't explain her frayed nerves or the nagging of her instincts urging her not to step beyond the door. But Faith was a creature of habit; one that was use to making mistakes and living with them.

As she stepped into the room she closed the door behind her, foolishly cutting off the only light source. She felt for a light switch on the wall but when her fingers felt and flicked the necessary switch nothing happened. Faith relented and let her keen senses steer her to the corner she knew Buffy to be hiding in.

"B..." Faith ignored the foreign objects that crunched and splintered beneath her feet, imagining glass and shattered wood, and knelt down beside the hunched form sitting in the corner. Faith's eyes had adjusted enough to make out Buffy's knees pulled up to her chest, her arms wrapped tightly around them. She rocked slowly on the spot. Her perfect cliché of someone losing their mind did nothing to soothe Faith's growing fear.

"I have a secret." Buffy said in a hushed, excited tone. Faith swallowed, staring through the darkness. Faith wondered if she was still drunk.

"That so? Wanna let me in on it?" She tried with hopeful cheeriness.

"Maybe..." Buffy said. Something glistened momentarily between them but Faith paid it no attention.

"Come on, Buff." Faith jested, straining to keep the trepidation out of her voice, "Now I gotta know."

"Okay..." Buffy's voice dropped to a deadly whisper as her face leant closer to Faith's. The glow from another bolt of lightning revealed the scythe clasped tightly in her arms. The blade trembled in her hands as blood trickled through the gaps in her fingers.

"But you'll have to come closer."

"She's been up there a while. Do you think that's a good sign?"

Giles looked up from the ancient text he'd been engrossed in.

"I'm sure she's fine, Xander."

"You don't think one of us should go check-?"

"Xander." Giles affirmed the younger man with a reassuring look. "If the time comes for which we need...

"Restrain?"

"...intervene..." Giles continued with a sharp look thrown Xander's way. "Then we will by all merits do so. Until then, I have every faith in...uh...Faith."

"He's got a point you know." Dawn concurred brightly. "It's not like she's gone Hannibal on us. My sister isn't sane for many reasons – reasons I won't go into now you understand – but I'm sure the only other slayer in the world can hold her own against a girl grieving for her ex-boyfriend...s.

Willow, who was sat beside her with Fred, looked dubious but remained quiet.

"You're taking this whole situation very well, quite maturely actually." Giles praised the teenager, impressed by her composed behaviour. Dawn shrugged casually.

"I discovered the wonders of the liquor cabinet hidden not so well in Wesley's office." Dawn admitted without shame. "It's amazing how much emotional damage you can take when everything's warm and blurry. Sometimes I forget I even have a sister!"

"Are you drunk now?" Xander asked suspiciously, finding it hard not to find amusement in Dawn's casual confession.

"Little bit, yeah."

"I see." Giles replied, his previous compliment fading to his newfound disapproval. He returned to his book for a moment before adding hopefully, "Is there any Brandy?"

The lobby doors opened loudly causing everyone inside to jump and witness Gunn and Wesley rush inside.

"Hate to interrupt the whole lot o' nuffin goin' on here but we have some bad news." Gunn declared as he and the former watcher moved into the reception, hefted one of the heavier desks and carried it back over to barricade the lobby doors.

"Oh?" Giles rose slowly from his seat, his hands resting on his hips as he regarded their actions with troubling anticipation.

"Neighbourhood's 'bout to go sky high." Gunn explained as he threw open the weapon's cabinet and removed practically all of its contents. "We got uglies comin' in from all sides and the army's doing jack to slow 'em down. We've got a day – max – before this whole block's overrun. But I'd prefer to be out of here in half that time."

"Surely we have more time? They can't be advancing that quickly!" Giles asked incredulously.

"Believe me, Rupert. It's a bloodbath out there." Wesley said as he began to push shells into an automatic shotgun. "Staying in the city any longer would be suicide."

Giles slowly resigned himself to what Wesley had said.

"We need to tell Buffy and Faith. I'll go get them. Xander, take all the supplies you can carry and bring them down here. Willow and Dawn we need to take as many of those books as we can, they'll be invaluable, sort the best from the lot, anything about historically catalogued apocalypses is essential—"

A bone chilling scream from upstairs caused him to pale and stop abruptly. Everyone who had been poised to move into action was now frozen. No one said anything, listening intently in the pressing silence that followed. When the sounds of breaking furniture and animalistic yells of rage filtered down into the lobby Giles snapped out of his daze with wide-eyed fever.

"Intervene! Intervene!"

Xander and the others charged up the stairs and along the corridor. A loud splintering crash echoed from around the corner and as they rounded it, they found a battered Faith sprawled on the floor nursing what looked like a dislocated shoulder. Thick splinters and shards of wood covered the space around her as a ragged hole gaped in the door she'd been thrown through.

"Faith!" Dawn shrieked in horror, moving to help her but finding her progress blocked by the emerging form of her sister.

"She doesn't deserve your pity!" Buffy screamed, pushing her sister back hard. She stumbled to the ground and stared up at her older sibling in speechless shock. The unhinged glare of the slayer swept the company of colleagues that lined the corridor and her scythe twisted as she flexed her fingers around it. She stood over Faith, looking like she might finish what she had apparently started, and then suddenly belted in the opposite direction, whipping round the adjacent corner and out of sight.

"Go after her!" Giles instructed. "I'll cut her off."

Giles sprinted back down the previous corridor as fast as his legs would allow and stepped out onto the upper balcony that surrounded the lobby. He almost collided with a speeding blur of a body. Buffy stopped instantly in front of him, her eyes wide and frightening as she bore her teeth savagely.

"Get...out...of my way..."

"Buffy, whatever you're going through...you don't have to go through it alone. We can help you—let us help you—please! I implore you to see reason—!"

Giles gasped as he found himself falling backwards. Buffy and the banister that ran along the upper floor became smaller and smaller as he eventually crashed against the table down in the lobby.

"Oh my god!" Fred cried in absolute disbelief as she appeared beside Buffy. "She pushed him!"

Gunn, Xander and Willow came into view too, surrounding the vampire slayer, who periodically twitched as she eyed them coldly.

Buffy's head cocked to face them at a sinister angle and a low growl left her throat. Fred moved away in fear. Xander approached his friend, hoping to calm her but instead received a full uppercut to the jaw, his body sailing back into a wall and hitting it with a dull thud. Willow tried to lift Xander up but he appeared unconscious. She gaped at her Buffy in speechless anger and watched as she leapt effortlessly over the banister.

Wesley ran over to watch her sprint out of the lobby.

"She's gone." He said with a hollow stare. His gaze flitted to Giles' crumpled form on the table below and his expression changed tremendously. "God, Gunn help me with him."

"You sure we should move him?"

"I don't know but we can't leave him there!"

Faith barely registered the voices of Gunn and Wesley in the lobby below. She had witnessed everything. Willow turned to see the remaining slayer standing silently behind her.

"Faith, are you...what...what happened in there? Why did she do this?" Willow asked frantically as she knelt by Xander's unconscious body.

Faith looked at her with a sense of detachment, hovering like a ghost in the middle of the corridor. Cuts and vicious bruises littered her pale complexion. She wiped away a trail of blood seeping from a gash on her cheek and didn't bother to wince.

She moved over to Dawn, whose expression would have been comical in any other situation.

"She left. She left us." The teenager was rigid in frozen horror to what she had just witnessed. She spun round to confront the others. "She's outside...she'll be outnumbered...sh-she...she'll die! We have to go after her! We have to help her!"

The choked sigh that came from Faith caused Dawn to pause in her panicked pleas and regard the only slayer present. What she saw made her gape without discretion.

Faith was crying.

Streams of some silent pain ran down her cheeks, her face contorting as she sobbed. Willow had forgotten her goal of reviving Xander and now stared, perplexed by the sight taking place in front of her. The scene was alien to both girls and neither knew how to react. As Faith sunk to her knees against the carpeted floor and her sobs grew louder, Dawn did the only thing that made sense. She walked cautiously over to the fallen slayer, knelt down and hugged her. To her complete surprise the slayer embraced her back and cried without restraint against her shoulder. Dawn looked over Faith's shaking shoulder to Willow, eyes wide in fear and astonishment as she mouthed, "What the hell?"

"Faith..." Willow tried, her brain still adjusting to the concept playing out before her. She asked her earlier question with greater urgency. "What happened in there?"

Her words didn't receive a reply and served only to intensify the heartbreaking sobs that racked Faith's body.

Fred stepped towards them and bit her lip. She fit Willow with a worried look and asked,

"She's not coming back, is she?"