Author's Note: Firstly, thank you so very much to those who have been reviewing. Secondly, for the 6,815 others… If the story's good enough to read 20,000 words of, could ya at least give me a "hey, it's good" or even just "good" – anything at all? One syllable? It would REALLY brighten my day like you have no idea and possibly make me update faster…
Vital consciousness was not one of Faith's outstanding qualities, a fact she was, ironically, more than aware of; however, when night veiled itself over the world, and the rules changed, she was acutely perceptive of everything around her much as an animal would be. Every fiber in her body was tuned in to this period of time, those hours when other kinds of animals came out to play. Her time fending for herself in the unknown reaches of the globe had only honed this into a finer skill.
So when, out for the Slayer's version of a nightly stroll, she witnessed something she wanted to believe she had not, the back of her mind was telling her it was a definite actuality, and thus came over her the startlingly familiar but long forgotten feeling she thought she had left behind, a shock to her system.
"Do you think that I really don't know you?" He walked closer to her, making his way around a large tombstone and fixing his nearly black eyes with deadly precision onto her; both chilling and scorching at the same time. His voice was low and dangerous. "What you came here for?"
She froze for an imperceptible moment, going completely unnoticed by the individual in front of her. "Asher," she said as she stepped back, annoyed; her eyes, though, still reacting from his words, belied her. "We can play 'scary vampire' some other time."
His face dropped for only a moment, an instantaneous frown creasing his features, all trace of menace gone. Then a devilish grin spread wide, his tone becoming playful. "But I thought you liked that game."
She glanced off to somewhere in the dark behind him, her voice coming out weary. "I'm just tired. We can save the fun for another time." She paused, almost as if remembering something. "Why do you always insist on following me home anyway? Someone could see you."
His jet-black hair fell into his eyes as he looked down at her, that same grin still on his face. "Well someone needs to protect you from the ghouls and goblins of the night." He almost sounded like an insolent teenage boy as he spoke. "And so what if they do?"
She stepped into his personal space, looking up at him and leaving mere inches between their faces. Her tone dripped sarcastic sweetness. "Then you would just be a big scary vampire, and you know what I do to them. And – all the other 'ghouls and goblins.'"
He smiled, grabbing her and pulling her to him, pushing his face the rest of the distance to hers, a lustful hunger overtaking him. She gripped onto his dark clothing for a few seconds before ripping away from him.
"That's all you get for the rest of the night. Be a good boy." She looked at him, then turned and walked off, his potent gaze following her.
Faith stared in fascination as Buffy walked away from what was so obviously a vampire, something boiling in the pit of her stomach and forming familiar knots. Her heart sped up and she couldn't look away from the image of the petite blonde illuminated by the powerful moonlight, now moving briskly through the dark as the creature behind her stood and continued to ogle openly.
Fucking vampires.
As Faith remained, motionless, frozen to her entirely conspicuous spot, everything around the center of her attention seemed to blur and fuzz out to black, leaving all of her senses keenly attuned to the only other being around who was currently alive; until her lingering gaze was suddenly and abruptly returned.
Buffy had spotted her. She had probably been somewhat aware of her presence the entire time, the way that Faith had been partially aware that Buffy was somewhere there before she saw her. Something passed between the two of them, the seconds hanging in the air and seeming to last much longer than they probably did, before Buffy broke contact and resumed her walk, in some unknown direction. Something welled up in the other Slayer's chest.
Faith startled herself.
She slid heavily into a seat at the kitchen table, paying no attention to anything but the window on the far wall in front of her. She was trying desperately not to think about anything, not to feel anything…to, in a manner of speaking, simply blink out of existence. Therefore, she did not notice anyone who may have also been occupying the room.
"So - met the toy?"
Faith's head shot to the side to seek the owner of the voice, her dark eyes quickly settling on Cordelia by the sink. She said nothing; she had no words that made any sense, and even if she did she would not have chosen to have them heard by her. She let her intense gaze fall down to the tabletop.
An infinitesimal smirk played on the other woman's lips as she gave Faith a knowing look. "I figured you would feel that way."
She bent down low, seductively, the slit in her long skirt revealing porcelain skin. "Do you need any more encouragement?" She gave the dark vampire a sideways grin, her head tilting playfully to the side.
"No," he bowed just a little mockingly, his jet-black hair falling into his eyes as he looked up at her, "You have my service."
A frightening smile broke across her face. "Good."
The usual quiet and calm of the household – at this particularly late hour – was broken only by the muffled, thudding footfalls of a young woman, nearly as dark as the house she was aimlessly walking through, and the slight but discernible sloshing of liquid inside the half-empty bottle she carried limply at her side.
She found her way to a hallway where she was vaguely certain no one was sleeping, and so chose this in her half-inebriated state as the place to settle onto the floor, sliding down the wall slowly.
She stared at the wall opposite her, as if trying to gain some sort of information from it, trying to read something imprinted upon it that only she could see. Her eyes were slightly drooping, and had one looked at her they would have thought she was falling asleep. But she was wide awake, and had no chance of sleeping at the moment; not with the cacophony of thoughts raining through her head incessantly, assuring her she was not resting peacefully any time soon. They were merging and melting into one another, surely a side effect of the alcohol she had gladly and heartily consumed until her stomach burned just a little too much; so she was not exactly able to identify any one thought and perhaps get rid of it by solving the riddle that was presently her mind. At this point she was just blankly staring at nothing, thinking of, truly, nothing, because she couldn't tell what her brain was trying to say to her – all she was aware of was the aching feeling inside her chest and in her bones, and the burning from the alcohol.
"Faith?"
Her head whipped up too swiftly for the amount of liquor controlling it, and she gripped it with her free hand, wincing in pain. She heard her name again and peered up, still holding her head.
Willow, up late as she usually found herself doing research, seemed to experience an inner conflict before resolving to sit down next to the other woman, giving her plenty of space. When Faith said nothing and barely looked at her again, she spoke softly in the way of speaking that was always purely Willow.
"…Hi."
Faith stifled a burp, now gazing without seeing at the trim down near the hardwood floor. "Hey."
Willow paused for a very pregnant period of time, unsure of what was the smartest move in the situation – maybe Faith did this regularly and it was nothing to be troubled by - before venturing, offering the kind amity she was known for. After all, Faith could be burdened with something just like anyone else. "…Wanna talk?"
Now Faith looked at her, straight in the eyes – more because when she lifted her head that's what she ended up being level with than anything else – and Willow could clearly see the emotion dwelling behind her weary look. She turned her head back to face the wall, taking a swig from her bottle and licking her lips. Willow was thinking of something else to say in the longer and longer silence; then -
"Have you ever… Ever just……not known anything?" She spoke not weakly, not searching, but rather as a husky, casual statement – yet her true sentiments were very obvious to someone such as Willow. "Like… Like you think you know something, and then," she laughed incredulously, dejectedly, "and then you just get thrown right on your ass…" She was still staring at nothing on the floor, at something no one could see but her, and for just a moment, her face crumpled and fleetingly revealed the ordinary, normal, feeling person underneath. Then there was Faith again, though the look of sarcastic, dry laughter had not left her. She took another swig. "Or maybe you didn't know anything in the first place." Pause. "I think… I think we just see what we wanna see, you know? None of this bullshit about fate, or destiny, or what we need, or…" She trailed off, still not looking at the woman beside her who was so intently focused on her now. Willow was amazed at the utter grief her bitter smile held.
Willow couldn't find words; she had no idea what was wrong with Faith, and she was realistically not expecting to be given any enlightening information from the woman so well known for keeping her guard up at all times. Though – that rule was already breaking up a bit at the moment. "Faith… I…"
More drinking, a shake of her head. "It'll protect you as long as you wear it." She laughed again, that cruel, miserable noise. "Protect you from swords, and bullets, and daggers, and everything." She looked down, fiddling with the top of the bottle. "Not from…"
Willow, utterly perplexed, looked as such and tried to come up with something to say. She opened her mouth a few times before words found their way out. "Did you… Did you – see something?" She paused. "Did something happen?"
Faith's hands stopped in their fidgeting; she seemed to stop everything altogether, for just a moment of breathless silence… And then the bottle was back at her mouth. She wiped her chin; looked over at Willow, moving her eyes around her face. She had not become particularly close to the woman in her short stay after they left Sunnydale; but they had reached a solid ground of partial understanding and something almost resembling respect between the two of them. There was certainly no bad blood left lying around. And, if Faith was truthful to herself – which in her current state was just a subconscious bunching together of thoughts to form an action she may or may not later regret – Willow was possibly the most, or probably the only, trustworthy person she knew of, regardless of their relationship; however, the alcohol may have been influencing what she may normally have considered unwise decisions. She turned her head away again, her brow furrowing.
They sat on the floor, neither speaking at first. Willow, unbeknownst to the Slayer beside her, took on the same awkward, reticent expression she had when first informed of their newest demon problem. Faith took another drink.
Europe
July 2005
Willow had been dying to see Europe – for it was part of the world beyond the limits of Sunnydale – for a long time, and now that she was finally here, in the land of the Romans and Emperors and Greeks and conquerors, she practically didn't know what to do with herself. It was her first time in this particular continent – no doubt she would return – and there was more to see and do than she could have imagined, especially for someone such as herself. She had already stumbled across several magic shops that rivaled even the best she had found in California or Ohio – which, by the way, seemed like completely different universes. She was, in all manners of speaking, content.
At least she had been until she had rounded a corner and came upon something she had hoped she never would; something she hoped had been buried in the past, put away and never to be dredged up again from the depths of personal hells.
A vampire slayer gone down the wrong path once was enough. After seeking forgiveness, being lucky enough to receive it, paying the consequences and choosing a new path, it was almost impossible to think that one could go astray again – but it seemed as though that was what had happened. The one meant to protect was the enemy – again.
No.
She could clearly see her, surrounded by what had to be four demons, if not some other variation of evil entities, walking away from a very dead young man, his body bloody and limp and thrown in an alley. The group of them were laughing uproariously and already on the hunt for another life they could rob.
Emotion welled up within Willow so strong it surprised even her; she had thought for so long that this woman was changed, that she was no longer that short-lived criminal of her youth, no longer the result of personal demons feasting on her soul. She had believed in her; she had almost come to trust in her.
No.
If she had looked just a little bit harder, if she hadn't let the immediate image be so easily and quickly seared to her mind, she would have seen the look of torment on Faith's face, the glassy eyes, and the despair that showed she had taken no part in what was done – that she was trapped.
What remained of the liquor sloshed quietly with the velocity of the person who held it as she entered the bedroom, let the door close and sat down heavily on the end of the bed. Willow had told her earlier in the day that she could stay in this room; it was, after all, her room – or it had been before she left. Willow said they had just left it as a spare; she had gotten a funny kind of manner when she told her, but Faith just shrugged it off.
A deep sigh escaped her, as her eyes dropped to her hand wrapped around the bottle, watching the moonlight dance across it. She briefly thought of all the veins beneath her skin, all the blood that coursed through the winding mesh of intricate inner channels and tubes and passages every second; her life, what kept her human… Did that even make her human? Did being human make her anything at all? She imagined what would happen if all of her blood was replaced with alcohol. Maybe then she wouldn't be human. Maybe if she filled herself with something that much, maybe she wouldn't want anything else.
"Don't cry," a soft, sinful voice breathed. Faith immediately experienced alarm and confusion in the same instance, realizing quite quickly that her eyes were wet and her heart was trying wildly to escape her ribs. Her third sensation was anger at herself.
She swiftly brought her face up to the sight in front of her, recognition lighting up her dark eyes. The woman's black hair framed her face, hanging down and blending with the fluid black outfit she wore. Her skirt waved elegantly behind her as she stepped closer to Faith.
"Why are you drinking, Faithy?" she cooed with a wicked sweetness that unsettled Faith even despite the amount of drink in her system. "What's wrong?" She stepped again closer to the young woman, a malevolent smile on her face as she cocked her head.
Faith jumped up and backed away, shaking her head, the bottle forgotten on the comforter. "Get away from me." Her spirit was too tired, too despondent to fight – especially against her. She just wanted to sleep. This was not what she needed. She hated this woman. This…thing. For reasons she couldn't even explain.
"You know I could make it all go away." She raised her sculpted eyebrows. "I could take it all away in a second." She reached out to touch Faith's face, and the slayer managed to fly back as if burned.
"Don't touch me." Her voice was much more dangerous this time, the venomous words spoken through tightly clenched teeth; but the woman just laughed at her, inflaming her anger. Her head felt hot and confused, and the last thing she could focus on was battling evil, or anything at all; but the one thing she could discern clearly was that she did not want this being touching her, or remaining anywhere near her. She wished she could block her out.
"Would you like it better if I looked like this?" The woman began to shape shift, transforming into something, but before she could finish Faith had let out a shout that was just short of being a scream of rage and lashed out at her violently, finding sudden strength. The woman vanished into the air, leaving Faith to strike out at nothing and almost toppling over.
She collapsed onto the bed, slightly shaking, her breath ragged and her eyes tightly shut. She willed her mind to go blank with what little power she still possessed, to push the overwhelming thoughts and sensations out. She punched the mattress, once, twice, kicked out at nothing, and then grabbed the bottle and quickly downed what was left.