Too tired for pre-chapter commentary. Although I know you love it.

Enjoy and review.

Narrative

"Finished." Giles wiped his forehead with the backside of his arm.

Faith, after having swallowed down her body's consistent urges to throw up, smiled a little before testing her arm out. It had weakened her considerably, but it wasn't anything new. Not to Faith, and not anymore. She was definitely used to the feeling.

"Should be healed enough for sparring tomorrow, Giles. No worries." She lied through her teeth, knowing that they wouldn't believe a word she was saying. She tried anyway, for the sake of being Faith.

"Absolutely not, Faith. From what Willow has told me, you've been here for two weeks and these...these abrasions haven't healed in the least bit. I'm dreadfully sorry for not taking notice beforehand."

How could he have known? She wore the jacket like a second skin, and the bruises on her face were so light, everybody thought she'd just been summoned the night before, maybe even in the morning. Even Willow trusted that Faith's healing had kicked in, denying what was obvious to her and ignoring the fact that those 'light' bruises were still there.

"I said no worries, G-man. I can spar." She already despised the fact that they'd seen her arms in such a condition. She definitely didn't want their pity, too.

"Faith. Please." Willow stepped towards her, blinking away that little something in her eyes.

"Red, I can do thi-"

"I saw you. I saw your body, the cuts, the bruises, everything. You've hidden them from me, and you said they were healing and that they were gone. From what I've seen, they're still the way they were as when I brought you back." The Wiccan feared for the other girl's health. For her life.

"They're fine." Faith grit her teeth. She hated to be exposed and vulnerable. That was one feeling she could never get used to.

"Let her spar. Better dead than alive." James interjected. His jealousy and humiliation overwhelmed him. And something inside of him feared her.

"That might be the only intelligent thing I've heard you say, asshat." She smirked.

"I'll...We'll take it easy." Buffy said assuringly to Giles.

"No, you won't."

"Faith-" They all start.

"I should spar, I can spar, and I will spar. Good night!" She briskly left, this time heading out the front doors towards the house.

"Where did you keep her all this time anyways?" Kennedy asked her girlfriend, wondering how none of them had noticed Faith at all.

"She stayed in our room for the few days you were all gone on that trip. Then she said she'd sleep in the basement until we surprised you guys. But she's been asking about that empty room at the end of the upstairs hall; she wanted to take that room after the finding out."

"Well, yea. I mean it's pretty much empty anyway." Dawn said in agreement.

Empty? Sort of. Buffy felt her knees weaken. Willow knew. She moved to follow Faith and paused by Buffy, leaning closer to her ear.

"I'll get her."

Buffy nodded slightly.

Faith's POV

I'm pissed off. But I think everybody can tell already.

"Fucking...fine...don't need...fucking...go easy? Hell no...stupid...bitch...fucking...can spar..." I'm muttering little nothings to myself out of frustration, and if I wasn't so mad, I'd find it pretty funny.

I'm like a torpedo on warpath; I zoom straight in for the house, slamming doors and stomping around with some boots that Willow found that look and feel exactly like the pair I had when I was still alive. Not that I'm not alive now, just - oh you know what I mean. My hands fly up in anger and I'm pacing the hallway upstairs like a crazy person.

I don't need this kind of bullshit on my head right now.

Isn't it enough that I see my body every day, wondering when it'll go away? So that maybe I can just forget that all of it happened? So that I can pretend it all away and go on without waking up in the middle of the night, feeling the same pain over and over again all over?

And now it's not just the physical pain that hits me like a bomb anymore. We've got Miss Buffy Summers, love of my former life (and even now, though I hate to admit it), who's living her life as though I never existed, and engaged to some fucking asshole who doesn't deserve her. When Willow told me about him I almost took the whole house down. It took a year and a half to get over me. The love of her fucking life, and it was that easy? And she forgot. She forgot about my death. About me. God knows if it was the other way around, I might've killed myself just so I could be with her.

But then again, I suppose I shouldn't be so surprised. Buffy always had a knack for picking up someone new very quickly after breaking up with her last item. Angel, Scott, Angel (again), Parker, Riley, Spike. The intervals between the five probably make up a fucking year and a half. So maybe I should be flattered. But I'm not. I guess I just thought we were different. That our relationship was more mature, more developed. More...something. Sophisticated? I don't know.

More real. That's the word.

I guess I was hoping for too much, huh? Besides, I did want her to be happy, even while I was rotting in Hell. I just wanted her to be alright. To be healthy and carefree and well. But God be damned, she doesn't look happy. That dumbfuck hasn't changed her for the better, he's changed her for the worse. She dresses like a cheap fuck. I know what that looks like. I've been the cheap fuck, and later on I've fucked a couple of them, too. And that's not Buffy. Buffy's not white trash. She's fucking beautiful, and those clothes make her look like shit. She lets him nudge her around like he's the boss. The Buffy Summers I died for, never would've taken any shit from anyone. Especially not from someone like him. So who the fuck is this girl, and what the hell did she do with my Buffy?

Yea, I said it.

My Buffy.

Damn it all, she's got me ranting to myself, in my head, wishing I could just smack her across the face and tell her to wake up. That I'm back, that I love her, that I want her...Ha. That would go well. We're both too stubborn to do anything anyway. The little bit of pride I have left won't let me fall apart and confront her first, and she's too full of herself to admit the fact that she wants me, too. The problem is, me and Buffy are the types that have to be together, or it'll be like lighting a match near a kerosene leak. In laymen's terms, we're like a nuclear missile and an atom bomb put together. Like I said, we just don't do well together when we're not together together.

Fuck her motherfucking dumbass shit...fuck!

I hate this bullshit.

And furthermore, I refuse to sleep in that dank basement anymore. Okay, so it's not really dank, but just let me do my ranting, alright? I'd rent myself a hotel room if I had any cash, but I don't, so I guess the empty room at the end of the hall will work. I walk on over with a little bit of my shit that Willow had gotten for me, and put my hand on the doorknob. Something tingles and I can't help but feel a little worried. What the hell...?

I open the forbidding door and there is me. Me all over the place. In little frames, in big frames. My eyes are everywhere. My favorite stake, my twin daggers, my...my knife; they're mounted on the wall. My bed, my bag, my clothes, my stereo, my books, my videos, my sheets, my pens, pencils and paper, my journals, my xmas cards, my soap, even my perfume...

My room.

What in the fuck...

"She cried, you know." Willow's voice startles me. She leans against the doorway and I realize I'd fallen to my knees in the middle of the floor in surprise. I have to admit, it's a bit much to be taking in.

"Every night. I could hear her in this room. Sobbing." Her voice lows to a whisper.

No. I can't hear this. Not now. I gotta go. I gotta leave. I want to leave. I need to leave.

"So this is where you meant by 'storage'?" I respond softly, trying to make it all funny. Make this fucked up situation into something to laugh at.

I'm smiling, you little fucks. I'm fucking happy. Right? Damn fucking right.

"She loves you. She does."

You gotta be shitting me.

"Sure has a funny way of showing it. Really."

"It's all just a surprise. A shock."

More excuses? Damnit, Red. She's always making excuses, always for Buffy, and I don't know why anymore. The girl's done the damage. There's no need to make excuses for it anymore.

"...for all of us. I mean, it doesn't give Buffy a reason to have done any of those things, but you know how it is."

Oh. I guess she wasn't done speaking. And what she just said makes sense.

"Makes sense."

"Listen, maybe...maybe we could go clubbing? There's a club downtown we could all go to. Take care of some of your H&H?"

Clubbing.

Willow just asked me if I wanted to go clubbing. I really must look like shit.

"Clubbing sounds...great. But I'll pass on the H&H for now."

"Should we alert the newspapers? You're not hungry or...horny? Where did you hide the real Faith?" She laughs. I laugh.

We laugh.

"Just tired of life, Red." There's more than just that.

"And besides...I couldn't...I couldn't do that to..." I try to say it. I try to tell her why, but I can't. It's okay though.

I think she already knows.