"Faithless" by Marry me Jane

As we spin around the mattress
as the guilty war start time again
as I mumble my resistance
I hesitate
and then I take you in

Your sent is too familliar
your fingers nullify my skin
am I still your creepy sister?
when you wash me away?
and away we come again

He leads me down to the basement
He waits til' no one can hear
He leaves me dirty and wasted

I am faithless
I am shameless
I am faithless

I don't expect to be forgiven
I don't expect these scars to dissapear
I came to life as you predicted
so you where right,
I'm your souvenir

can I return your little secret?
can I remember to forget I'm here?
cut out my tounge and let you keep it?
would it turn you on?
or would it make you ill?

He leaves me broken and breathless
He leaves me his cigarette
He leaves me shattered and shaking

I am faithless
I am nameless
I am

twisted, I'm so twisted
is that human?
given, I'm so given
I am low(?)

He leaves me

I am faithless
I am faceless


I am

I am shameless
I am nameless
I am faithless

Chapter 12

Buffy was standing in the doorway of a little girl's room, what obviously had been Faith's room as a child. But rather than having a large, colorful room, as Buffy had occupied as a little girl, one with pink and white walls, dolls and stuffed animals and a canopy bed, Faith's room was hardly big enough to fit her bed, beat-up dresser, and what looked like a footstool that held a couple of bouncy balls, some Happy Meals toys, and a few Hot Wheels cars.

This in and of itself- Faith's apparent lack of childhood possessions- would have been depressing for Buffy to see on their own... but the truth was that her eyes skipped right past them, not registering them. The only thing she saw was the figure lying on Faith's bed twin bed.

She WAS Faith, Buffy knew, though the girl was slightly older than the previous Little Girl Faith had been, perhaps nine or ten years old, judging from her size. But somehow, Buffy could not at first bring herself to believe this. The child on the bed could NOT be Faith... this had to be some other girl, perhaps one Faith had known. Surely this wasn't Faith, not HER Faith... no...

But even as the initial irrational denials flew through Buffy's mind, she knew they were false, that they were only her desperate wishes. This WAS Faith, this HAD happened to Faith, to HER Faith... she had almost definitely been in this position before, been every bit as wretched and deeply shocking as this little girl that Buffy was looking at now.

The nine-year-old Faith was curled on her bed in a fetal position, knees drawing up to her still-childishly-flat chest, and she was hugging herself tightly. Though she was much older than Toddler Faith had been, her thumb had found its way into her mouth in a way that made Buffy draw in her breath, feeling her own too-fast, too-cold breath freezing the walls of her throat and chest cavity. The little girl was shivering, her face twisting as she struggled fiercely not to cry, trying so hard that the silent sobs rattled through her narrow back and rib cage. Her eyes were scrunched shut, but despite her desperate efforts, a few silent tears squeezed themselves out from under her eyelids.

Buffy could see the child's lip swelling, saw that it was crusted with blood. She saw the bruising already forming around her eye, and she knew that someone had hit her. But what made her stomach churn with nausea, what made the tears spill from her eyes as her chest exploded inside with sharp 

stabbings of pain and grief, was the state of the little-girl Faith's clothes. She was fully dressed in a pajama set, but it looked as if the child had thrown her clothes on very hastily; her shirt was misbuttoned, a few buttons missing altogether, and it was torn at the collar. And as for her pajama bottoms... even from the doorway Buffy saw the stains at the crotch and knew that they were blood.

At first Buffy didn't want to admit that she knew how the stains were there. Other options raced through her mind, everything from them being only Kool-Aid or ketchup, to Faith having gotten her first period at a very early age. But she knew even as thought it that none of it was true. She knew what had really happened. Someone had hurt Faith... someone had...

She couldn't think it, she couldn't.

"No," she half-sobbed, her voice breaking, "oh no, they couldn't, no..."

She was hardly aware that she was moving forward, hurrying to Little Girl Faith's side; she could vaguely hear the same little voice in her head, chanting at her with some urgency.

Not real, Buffy, don't' forget this isn't real... you have to remember, this isn't real...

She heard the voice, but she didn't care, couldn't bother to acknowledge it. All Buffy cared about was doing something to reach out to the broken little girl on the bed, to do whatever she could to even slightly ease her pain...

She went behind the child on her bed, drawing her into her arms and holding her tightly against her, cradling her against her chest instinctively. At first Little Girl Faith was frightened, and understandably so; she gasped, her breath coming in faster, hitching sobs, almost hyperventilating, and she began to thrash against Buffy with her thin little limbs, trying to get loose. Buffy held her easily with one arm; with the other, she tried to stroke the little girl soothingly, patting her flailing arms and legs, her back, running her hand through her hair.

"Don't, baby, you might hurt yourself," she told Faith, her voice still choked with tears, as she continued to stroke her the best she could, to calm her. "It's okay, baby, it's okay... I'm not going to hurt you, I would never hurt you. Shhh... it's going to be okay, sweetie, I've got you. You're okay, you're going to be okay..."



After a few minutes Little Girl Faith seemed to accept her words as truth, or maybe she had exhausted herself into no longer caring. Whatever the case, she stopped fighting against Buffy. Her body went limp in the blonde slayer's arms, and she clutched at her weakly, beginning to cry more openly. Buffy was crying too as she rocked the child in her arms, still rubbing her hair, her back and shoulders, with shaking hands.

"I'm so sorry, sweetie, I'm so sorry..."

"I didn't w-want it, I didn't mean to l-let him," Faith was choking out, her words difficult to understand. "I tried to make him stop but I c-couldn't. It hurts... I'm bleeding, w-what if I'm gonna die?"

"Oh, baby..." Buffy choked, her own tears streaming harder at the child's tortured words, her self-condemnation and fears, even as she tried to wipe Faith's away. "Baby, this wasn't your fault..."

But suddenly everything was changing, everything around her was melting away, morphing, melting into a different scene, and Buffy was being moved along with it. She cried out, trying to hold onto Faith, to hunch her body over hers to keep her grounded with her... but Little Girl Faith was disappearing as well, and Buffy found herself in an entirely new location, once more standing in a doorway as she looked in upon two figures who seemed oblivious to her presence.

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Giles was frowning slightly, leaning forward in his seat behind the glass of the control room across from the transferral room, where Buffy's and Faith's and bodies remained suspended in the air. It had been over an hour now, and still Buffy had not returned, or showed signs of returning, to them... and nor, of course, had Faith. He found himself wanting to pace the small area, to find something physical he cold to do occupy himself. He had fought against the impulse to clean his glasses countless times. He just wanted SOMETHING else to focus on... and yet he was worried that if he took his eyes off of Buffy, something would go wrong.

The glass between the two rooms was not soundproof; he had heard the sounds that Buffy made, gasps, moans, even sobs... even now there was silent tears trickling down her cheeks. Giles could see them clearly, wetting her hair, the sides of her neck. He wanted nothing more than to go to her, to hold her hand and wipe them away, to let her know even subconsciously that he was there with her. But he knew that he could not... Giles could only sit there, shifting about restlessly, and clinching his jaw.

Faith, he had observed ambivalently, had also uttered a few soft cries, and her cheeks too were stained with tears... Giles was not sure, in her case, if this was a good sign or a bad one. He had never heard her make a sound since in all the times he had seen her since she first slipped into her coma. He had certainly never seen her cry, had not been sure that people who were comatose were able to do so. On one hand, perhaps her tears indicated that she was closer to consciousness than she had been in some time; perhaps Buffy was reaching her, forcing her to face her emotions, even her possible fears or reluctances to return to them.

Giles hated to think about what might be going on inside the teenager's head, what the two girls might be experiencing- in Faith's case, reliving- together. He was not as clueless to some of the things Faith had implied in her words and behavior as she had thought he was...he had his own suspicions of how Faith's life may have been before she ever met him and the others of Sunnydale. Yes, perhaps Faith's tears, even while still comatose, were a good thing... he had certainly never seen the girl cry while she was conscious.

On the other hand, what if it WASN'T a positive sign at all? What if Faith's tears- and Buffy's as well- meant that she was in physical pain? What if something had gone wrong- what if Buffy's emotion meant that she was beginning to think that whatever was going on inside Faith's mind was really happening to her?

Giles's spine straightened, and he glanced anxiously at Catherine and Miriam, who were monitoring the girls. Catherine was, as Giles was, watching the girls through the window, her expression intense, slightly furrowed in concentration. Giles could not tell if she was worried as well, or merely fascinated. Miriam was keeping an eye on the girls' vital signs, as well as a scanning of Buffy's brain.

"Er- Catherine?" Giles ventured, his tone awkward, though he did, thankfully, he thought, refrain from blushing. "I was concerned that... I mean... Buffy, and Faith, it seems to be taking some time,and I was wondering if it is quite... usual... that they be reacting so..."

"Do you mean their crying, Rupert, and making noises?" Catherine finished for him, smiling gently. "It isn't as if every person in a coma- or every person who enters a comatose patient's mind- reacts so strongly, but it does happen occasionally. If the mind's emotions are strong enough, the body can echo them back even while in an unconscious state. It's comparable to awakening from a nightmare and realizing that you have been crying, or screaming."

"Ah... well, yes, but... does that not indicate that perhaps she is beginning to feel things... too much?" Giles asked with more worry than he'd intended coloring his tone, as he glanced quickly at Catherine to monitor her reaction.

"There's no need to worry about that... yet, anyway," Miriam spoke up, looking up briefly from the scans of Buffy's brain. "A few times she has come close to getting too wrapped up in whatever is going on inside Faith's mind- you can tell, because this area of the scan begins to darken," she explained, gesturing. "But so far she had always managed to talk herself down, or remind herself, I suppose, because each time her scan has lightened again. She's staying focused, Rupert, I think she's fine."

"She seems to be performing impressively, especially considering her lack of experience,"Catherine agreed, smiling again at Giles. "She is extraordinary, Rupert. I wouldn't worry just yet- what we are seeing may in fact be progress. So far she is holding her own."

"Yes, yes, of course she is..." Giles replied somewhat absently, but his brow was furrowed as he began to watch the two once more. He tried to tell himself that Catherine and Miriam were right, that he should not worry. There was no need to. Buffy would be fine- and if she wasn't, Catherine and Miriam would bring her back.

But she WOULD be fine... she was a slayer, after all, both girls were- and Faith would be fine as well, of course. Weak, disoriented, possibly even still furious with them... but fine. They'd help her, they'd bring her around.

Even more than being a slayer, though, Buffy was BUFFY. There was no other Giles would have entrusted with such a mission- no other who had so successfully gotten herself and others, countless others, through equally important and taxing ones. Buffy would get through this, and she would pull Faith through it with her- of course she would.

Still, despite his logical reasoning with himself, Giles could not help but worry, watching his former slayer- both of his former slayers- with a steady anxiety.