Complement

by Michele D

This is the first fanfiction I wrote. I began it in 2000 & completed it in 2002. I will mark it complete once all chapters are up. I'll be posting a few chapters at a time. Just a heads up, it is long. Starts in the future that only lives in my head (Prologue). Takes place right before & during Judgment (Part I).

25. XXIV – Hell Is For Children

Author Warning: This chapter deals with some memories of Faith's abusive childhood (it is not overly graphic). It also contains Non-Consensual sex (it is as non-graphic as possible, it was hard to write and it can be hard to read). The chapter is also quite dark and violent, and emotional on a different level compared to the previous chapters.

XXIV – Hell Is For Children

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They cry in the dark, so you can't see their tears ~ They hide in the light, so you can't see their fears ~ Forgive and forget, all the while ~ Love and pain become one and the same ~ In the eyes of a wounded child ~ Because Hell ~ Hell Is For Children ~ And you know that their little lives can become such a mess ~ Hell ~ Hell Is For Children ~ And you shouldn't have to pay for your love with your bones and your flesh ~ It's all so confusing, this brutal abusing ~ They blacken your eyes, and then apologize ~ You're daddy's good girl, and don't tell mommy a thing ~ Be a good little boy, and you'll get a new toy ~ Tell grandma you fell off the swing ~ Because Hell ~ Hell Is For Children – Pat Benatar

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"ATROPOS!"

Atropos jumped up from her settee, the intricate needlepoint she had been working on for years fell to the floor forgotten. Fear immediately started churning in her stomach; she hadn't heard that much fear in her sister's voice since the ill-fated lovers from eons ago. She ran from the sitting room to the Tapestry of Life room, trampling the delicate needlepoint under her feet. It was the first time in over a century that she had run, or for that matter, had physically moved from room to room, such was the state she was in.

Contradicting her incalculable age, she ran as if she were a spring flower in its first bloom. She skidded to a halt in front of the Tapestry of Life where her two sisters were staring confused, crying. Another thing that hadn't happened since the ill-fated union of Romeo and Juliet; yes, whether he knew it or not Shakespeare had written a true story. A story, a tragedy that had happened at almost the beginning of mankind. A tragedy that the Fates themselves had missed in the endless possibilities that the Tapestry of Life held for each Life Thread and as was their roles in the grand scheme of things, now, like then, they were forbidden to change or influence what had or was to happened.

"What? What has happened?"

Lachesis just pointed down at the Tapestry of Life, not speaking, she was crying too hard. How could she have missed this? This should have been there... they, SHE, should have seen this.

Atropos looked down at the Tapestry of Life, she watched, as her sisters' watched with her again the events unfold starting with the night the Chosen Two fought their final battle against the Hellgod, Glory. Watched as the last four days within the mortal realm for the loved ones of the Chosen Two unfolded. She mourned with the mortal and immortal family that the Chosen Two had surrounded themselves with. Wishing most desperately that she could offer them some kind of hope, some kind of comfort, even a small sign of something, anything.

Hesitantly she moved her eyes to the entwined Life Threads of the Chosen Two. Afraid almost to look, to watch, to see what had happened that would cause her sisters to sob so heart-wrenchingly. Then her eyes were upon their Life Threads and she watched as the last seven days of the Chosen Two lives unfolded before her, holding back the tears that came to her own eyes.

She could not hold them back any longer as she watched them beaten more than once, as they lay helpless and unconscious, as the brunt of the lunatic's anger was taken out on Faith with fists, with feet, and with belt. She cried harder as she watched them wake, weak, almost helpless, in pain to the nightmare monster that had ruled Faith's childhood.

"But... How? What?" She asked her sister, unable for the first time in over a millennium even to form a sentence.

"I-I-I don't know? I didn't see this as a possibility while I was weaving... It was almost as if my eyes were blinded to it. What can we do?" Lachesis looked at her sister with pleading eyes, praying that for once Atropos would forget the damn rules, knowing though that she, they, could not.

"Nothing. I wish that it were so that we could. We can only hope that she remembers... That she will..." Atropos trailed off, her tears falling harder, joining that of her sisters. They watched with horror and sorrow, their time now at pace with that of the Chosen Two as the Tapestry of Life continued to weave the Life Treads of the chosen Slayers.

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'Come show 'daddy' how much you missed him.' The words thundered through her brain, echoing, as familiar to her as her own name. Faith launched herself at him from the recliner when he was only a step or two inside of the room, the words bouncing and crashing around her head, causing something deep inside of her to rise up in fury.

I'll fucking show you just how much I missed you, you fucking sadistic scumbag!

She let loose the rage in her that had been trapped inside since she had been a child. Let it loose for the first time ever, consciously, with bad intent. Rage that had been created by his hands, by his abuse of her over nine long years. From the time she was seven, until she had escaped him the fall after her sixteenth birthday, the same year her mother had died. The same rage that had given birth, life and breath to her dark side. Fear, terror, she had felt then, was feeling now, added fuel to the already white-hot flame of her rage making it burn brighter, hotter.

The dark side of her, and the child within were screaming in joy. Joy at finally being given the chance to take out its, their rage, fear, pain, and shame on the cause of their existence.

The light side of her, the 'Faith' side of her joined its cries of joy with the dark side and the child. Joy because her Slayer senses were telling her that he was no longer completely human, that part of him was demon. Joy because she would not be hurting, perhaps killing, a human, no matter what he had done. This time there would be no blood added to her hands, no misplaced guilt over what she was about to do.

For the first time in her life, Faith's dark and light sides were in complete agreement with each other. They wanted to hurt, to maim, to rage against the man-demon coming towards her. To inflict even the smallest fraction of the pain, the fear, that he had forced, inflicted upon her, 'them', for all those years.

Faith was literally growling at him as she flew towards him with all of her Slayer strength and rage. Unable to even formulate words. It didn't matter because, there were no words that could even come close to conveying the riot of emotions, the hate that she felt for him. The hate, shame, pain and guilt that she felt now, had felt then, that he had made her feel for herself.

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Not more than a second behind Faith, Buffy flew out of the recliner in her wake.

'Show you! Fucking A! I'll show you scumbag! Show you my fucking fists asshole!' Buffy's own thoughts echoing Faith's as she moved towards him.

She didn't need Faith to tell her who this man was or what he had done. She felt everything Faith was feeling, was familiar with the echo, remembered, could never forget it; it was seared upon her soul. This 'echo' that only came when Faith's past came back to haunt her. Buffy could remember each and every time this 'echo' had come to her, knew it because like Faith was, it too was a permanent part of her.

Buffy's own rage joined with Faith's, turning her white-hot flame into a cold-steel blue, she was going to enjoy helping Faith rip him apart. Yes, she admitted to herself, this time she was going to enjoy causing pain. Enjoy making him suffer, feel pain, make him bleed.

For the first time in her life, Buffy knew deep down inside that it would not matter to her had he still been just human. She knew from her Slayer senses that he wasn't. She was, in fact, a little thrilled that he wasn't, simply because that meant that they could make him suffer, make him bleed all the longer. This was the man who had hurt her mate and the rage inside of her was purely primal.

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Johnny took in both of them in just a glance. Loving the way they looked together, light and dark. His 'baby girl' had grown into a beautiful woman and he was getting excited just by the thought of what it was he was going to do to her. Excited by the fact that because she was a Slayer he could make it last all the longer. Excited by the fact that she would be able to take, five, ten times more than when she had been just a 'normal' girl. Excited, that she would heal that much faster because of her Slayer healing, excited because he wouldn't have to wait so long now between their play time. Excited because both his 'baby girl' and her lover Buffy, or 'B', as Faithy liked to call her, had been given to him. Given to him to do with what he wanted, more or less.

He broke from his internal fantasies as Faith launched herself at him. It was one of the many things that he 'loved' about her, her spirit, her fight. She had fought him even as a child, refusing just to submit, even knowing that it would only make things worse. 'Loved' it because it meant he didn't get to break her just once, but over and over again. He smiled amused when he saw Faith's blonde-haired lover fly out of the chair a step behind her. Damn they were magnificent.

Johnny waited until Faith was upon him before he swatted her from him like an irritating gnat.

Faith was sent airborne from his casual backhand to her chest. She flew across the room slamming hard into the log wall, cracking some of the logs from the force of her impact. She bounced off the wall and fell to the floor, gasping, feeling a little dizzy as the edges of her world blurred. New pain joined with the pain from the vicious beating she was now sure both she and Buffy had received at Johnny's hand when they lay helpless and unconscious.

He stopped Buffy's charge by snapping out his arm and grabbing her by the neck. He lifted her with ease, holding her a good foot off the floor.

Immediately Buffy began kicking out at him, but she might as well have been trying to kick through ten-foot thick steel. He giggled at her like a two year old and told her in a totally out of place teasing tone, "Stop that! It tickles!"

His giggles trailed off, and his whole face changed when he smiled maliciously at her. Slowly he started to tighten his grip around her throat, cutting off her air.

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FUCKFUCK! B! Gotta help her! Shit!

Faith struggled back up to her feet pushing down the pain coursing through her body. She ran across the room at him, full Slayer mode kicking back in, adrenaline pumping, numbing the pain, sending energy throughout her body.

He backhanded Faith across the shoulder, spinning her around, knocking her off her feet. He turned his attention back to the blonde-haired Slayer who was now franticly clawing at his hand around her throat.

She was seeing black spots in front of her eyes. She was lightheaded and knew it wouldn't be long before she passed out. Buffy redoubled her efforts to get free when she saw how easily he had knocked Faith away from him again. She grabbed a hold of his thumb, trying to pry it loose from her throat. He laughed in her face, the enjoyment, excitement he was feeling, getting from this, showing in his eyes. He grabbed one of her arms by the wrist and began to twist it away from his hand, she fought against his twisting, she stopped fighting him the second before he would have broken it.

Faith forced herself back up to her feet again. She had to help Buffy! He had turned his back to her, and she looked at it as an advantage, you never turned your back on an enemy. She ran at him again full force, hoping to hit him hard enough that he would let go of Buffy.

Johnny whirled around to face Faith, swinging Buffy by the neck with him like he was holding nothing more than a stuffed animal. He punched Faith hard in the chest, knocking the air right out of her, causing her legs to collapse out from under her. She fell to her knees, gasping painfully for air, seeing the proverbial 'stars'. Right up until that moment, she had thought that 'seeing stars' was nothing more than a quaint metaphor, she knew better now.

It was getting harder and harder for Buffy to lift her arms. They felt like they were made out of lead. She felt like she was moving underwater, her limbs were laden, slow, her senses dulling, her head was spinning relentlessly.

From her knees, Faith saw how pale Buffy was, could hear her desperate attempts at getting air into her lungs. How hard it was becoming for her to even move. A ghost of a long suppressed memory flittered across her mind. She was intimately familiar with what he was doing, she remembered now that she had experienced it many times at his hands. Now she knew why she had done this to Xander, she had been taking out her rage for Johnny on him. Doing to Xander what had been done to her so many times, doing it to him because she had thought he was pretending to care, just like Johnny had.

She felt Buffy beginning to slip away into the darkness and she was pulled out of the ghost memory's grip. Afraid now that Johnny might actually kill Buffy. Do something, her mind screamed; she could not let Buffy die. She had failed her too many times before, this was all her fault, after all this was her nightmare and Buffy shouldn't be here at all. Physically Faith knew she couldn't beat him, not now, and not ever when she was a child, so she did the only thing she could think of to help Buffy.

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Faith lowered her eyes and head, lowered them away from his triumphant familiar stare. She forced the rage back down to its former home inside of her. All that was left now was the terror, the shame, the pain, and the guilt. She tried but she could not force them down too, they had too strong a grip on her battered, bruised soul. The child inside of her was already screaming in fear at what she knew was to come, and what Faith had tried so long to forget.

"Please... please Johnny..." Faith's voice trembled, the words heavy, thick as they fell from her tongue.

"Please what, Faithy?"

She could hear the enjoyment, excitement, the lu..., (she couldn't even let her mind go there), in his voice that her fear created in him. But she had already known that from her past, known how much he enjoyed both hearing and creating the fear in her. How much the sick bastard got off on it.

Faith risked peeking up at Buffy through her hair; she saw that Johnny had loosened his grip slightly. Saw that Buffy no longer had to fight for every breath. She bit back the angry words, knowing that Buffy was still far from safe. Instead Faith gave him the answer she knew he wanted. "Please don't hurt her. I'm... s-s-sorry. Please let her go! I'll d-d-do whatever you want. Please Johnny!"

"Faith! NO! Don't!" Buffy managed to croak out. She couldn't, she would not let Faith do this, not to protect her. She couldn't bear to think of Faith having to do something like this. Not for her, oh please god, she thought don't... But Buffy too couldn't bear to let her mind go there, afraid if she even thought it, it would come true. She had to help her, she had to get free, had to protect Faith from him!

This was her greatest fear, not being able to help, to save the innocent, and in this Faith was the innocent. Only this time the fear of failure was a million times worse, because this time, it was her heart, her soul, her Faith, that she might not be able to save. She had failed her before, had failed to be there when Faith had needed her help. She couldn't, WOULD NOT fail her now.

Johnny shook Buffy, "Shut up bitch!"

"Fuck you scumbag! I'm gonna kill you!" Buffy snarled at him. She lashed out at him with her foot again, her strength returning, fueled by her fear for Faith. She aimed for the one spot she knew was vulnerable to every man and demon alike she had ever met.

He laughed in her face again as he felt her kick out. He was quickly choking on his laughter as her kick caught him hard in the groin! A high-pitched howl of pain came from him; he barely managed to keep his knees from buckling. Buffy smiled, purred with satisfaction, she pulled her foot back intending to kick him again, but, she never got the chance as Johnny flung her from him with brutal force.

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Luckily, for Buffy, she hit the couch toppling it over with the momentum of her flight. Had she hit something less soft it would have probably caused severe trauma to her spine. He followed her across the room, jumping over the fallen couch to get at her. Snarling he started kicking her rapidly, chortling with glee as each kick landed.

His kicks were so randomly placed and rapid fire that Buffy had a hard time blocking or protecting herself from them, she didn't even have a chance to try and get up off the floor. A kick caught her hard in the ribs, cracking them. She curled up into a small fetal ball trying to protect both her ribs and her head from the brutal force of his attack. She was whimpering low in the back of her throat in pain as each kick landed, adding layers of pain on top of her already bruised, pain wracked body.

Faith scrambled across the floor on her hands and knees after them. She heard him break something, and each whimper of pain coming from Buffy was like a knife thru her heart. She had to do something! She began begging and pleading with him to stop as she made her way across what felt like the endless expanse of a black hole to reach them.

Johnny ignored Faith's pleading; he was enjoying too much the sound of the blonde Slayer's whimpers of pain. Was enjoying too much causing that pain, enjoying too the pleading of his 'baby girl' for her lover. He never had any intention of killing the Slayer at his feet, but neither Slayer ever needed to know that, because that would just ruin everything.

Despite how it had looked, he knew exactly how much pressure he could exert before he would have crushed her windpipe. His kicks, though they may have looked random, were carefully placed, as well as the force with which he was delivering them. His objective was to cause, bring about the highest level of fear, anguish, and pain in both Slayers, not about killing them. He had been born, then reborn to do just this, it was his 'calling', just like being Slayers was the Chosen Twos', as they had named themselves, calling. After all, he had already done it to Faith once. Hadn't he?

He had been reborn into something more than just a mere human so that he could do it to them both this time. Reborn so that he could reshape them into living human vessels of pain, anguish, terror and fear. Reborn so that he could do what he did best and the one that had given him new life could live, feed off, and bathe in what he reshaped the Slayers into.

When she finally reached them, Faith wrapped herself around his legs, stopping his next kick, giving Buffy a chance to move out of his reach.

Buffy half crawled, half dragged herself across the floor away from him, her lungs filling with what felt like fire. She never remembered ever being in this much pain, never even knew pain like this existed.

Johnny let the Slayer crawl away from him, grinning like a madman at the sight of her naked on her hands and knees. This was definitely more fun than he had ever imagined. He reached down and grabbed one of his 'baby girl's' wrists forcing it loose from his leg. He yanked her up hard almost dislocating her shoulder. When he had her almost standing, he grabbed her with his free hand under her armpit, he lifted her and threw her.

Faith found herself airborne again, she landed on her back, her head snapping backwards, smashing into the hardwood floor. She groaned in pain, feeling blood dribble down the back of her scalp, and saw 'stars' again.

"POP!" he giggled.

Snarling Buffy regained her feet and charged him. He was amused, they sure did have spirit these two, he had to give them that. This was going to be so much fun! He waited for her to get close enough then punched her in the stomach.

Buffy doubled over from the blow, stumbling backwards, she tripped over Faith, and started to fall.

Faith managed to sit up in time to catch Buffy. She cradled Buffy in her arms, looking into those beautiful, loving eyes. For a timeless second they gazed at each other, nothing but them existed, and the love that was between them. But that timeless second wasn't really timeless and they were once again back in the log cabin being held captive by a madman now half demon from Faith's past. Not knowing where here was, or even how they had gotten here.

Looking into those eyes Faith saw a fierce determination, a determination that Buffy was going to try to protect her at all cost, including her own life. Faith couldn't let her do it. She had survived Johnny before. She could survive him again. But never would she let Buffy have to survive more then what he had already done to her.

Faith leaned down towards Buffy, softly she whispered, "I'm sorry..." She gently kissed away Buffy's protest, and before Buffy knew what was happening Faith cold-cocked her on the temple, knocking her out.

"Sniff, sniff, that was so sweet. Who would have ever thought that my little 'baby girl' could be so gallant." The sarcasm, the contempt dripped sickly sweet, from his tongue like honey. He stared down at Faith waiting for her to look at him. In reality he was extremely pleased by her actions, this was going better than he expected. Actually, both of their actions pleased him, they were playing right into his hands, so to speak, it was as if they were acting out the twisted, sick script that played in his head.

Faith tenderly moved Buffy off her lap and put her gently on the floor. She gazed down at her one more time, then shut down the connection, the echoes, between them. She found however, that it was no longer possible to cut herself completely off from Buffy. The parts of themselves that now lived, entwined with and in the other, would now and forever always leave a little of the connection open to the soul it had once belonged.

Faith rose painfully, slowly to her feet, her mind racing a mile a minute trying to find some way, any way to get them out of this. Find a way to prevent what was about to happen. There was no way out, and even if she could escape right now, there was no way that she would ever leave Buffy behind. She would rather endure the tortures of hell for eternity than leave Buffy to him. She could do this; she would do anything to keep Buffy safe from him.

She stood tall in front of him and looked him squarely in the face, unable to hide the revulsion she felt for him as she saw the victorious sneer that marred his otherwise angelic face. Often she had wondered how it was possible such an angelic face could harbor, contain so evil, so black a soul as his. Faith felt his eyes raking lazily over her body and her skin crawled every placed they touched. Though she tried, she could not stop her body from trembling. A knot of fear coiled deep in the pit of her stomach, and bile rose up hot, strong, and thick in the back of her throat at the thought of this sick twisted bastard touching her again.

He smiled expectantly at her, his tongue sneaking out to trace his upper lip, his eyes growing harsh, cruel. She could not look at him any longer; she dropped her gaze, afraid that any reaction other than the fear would anger him further. She could not incur his wrath until she was sure that Buffy was completely safe from him. She wasn't really sure what he wanted from her, than a fleeting ghost of a memory came to her and she knew.

"I'm sorry..." she mumbled, the words eating away at her, going against all that she had fought so hard to become.

"I'm sorry... who?" he prompted her.

Faith swallowed rapidly, forcing the bile back down, afraid that it would come up, out with the words, she choked out, "I'm... sorry 'd-d-daddy'"

Sorry that I didn't fucking kill you when I had the chance!

"That's okay, baby girl, daddy forgives you." He punched her in the stomach just to show her how much, hell it was only a tap.

A tap that doubled Faith over, causing her legs to buckle. A tap that sent her down hard again onto her knees, her immediate reaction to jump back up and go at him. But, she stilled herself, clenching her teeth, her hands balled up into tight fists at her sides, hissing in pain, and stayed as she was.

She kept her head lowered and just prayed that he wouldn't turn his attention back to Buffy laying helpless on the floor. She flinched out of age-old habit, a habit she had broken herself of, a habit that she had relearned quickly today, as she saw his hand coming towards her face through the curtain of her hair.

His impossibly large hand, a hand that had looked so large to her when she was young, had been large compared to her own seven-year-old hand. It came to her in that second, that all of it, him, the cabin, and everything in it was too large in relation to her and Buffy.

It was as if things were proportioned to her the same as when she was only seven. So that now, like then, the size of him was intimidating just like when she was a child. Now, like then, he was large, she was small. He was powerful, strong, while she was weak. Only now it was a million times worse because it wasn't just her he was hurting but Buffy too. He was the predator, and she and Buffy were the prey.

Johnny dropped his hand and moved behind Faith, and smiled yet again as he saw her whole body tense, tremble. Leaning down he picked up the still unconscious blond Slayer and tossed her over his shoulder like a sack of grain. He reached out behind him and grabbed Faith by the hair. Carrying Buffy, and dragging Faith, he starting walking towards the door on the other side of the room.

Every instinct in Faith yelled at her to get away from him, even if it meant having the hair on her head pulled out by the roots. But she couldn't, not while he had Buffy. She knew where that door led to, she wished she didn't but she did, oh god she wished she didn't! It was his 'special', 'their' special room, the room he fondly called the Play Room.

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The Play Room had been changed to fulfill his every twisted, sick desire. The cage in the corner enlarged and reinforced. It was big enough now to hold two grown Slayers, as well as strong enough to kept them captive within it. He had tested it out himself to be sure, even he, half human/half Demon God could not break out of it. The brass bed, the centerpiece of the room, was larger than a 'normal' king-sized bed with the added attraction of chains with cuffs welded to the four corners. There was also a mirror on the ceiling over the bed.

An extremely large wardrobe was in one corner, it was filled with all the toys he had only been able to dream about, and some he hadn't, not even in his wildest fantasies. Filled thanks to his oh so thoughtful benefactress. He was grinning from ear to ear as his gaze lovingly scanned around the room, almost like he was caressing all the delightful things the room contained with his eyes. All those lovely play things to explore, to show, to use upon the Chosen Two were here now for him.

The Play Room, in fact, the whole cabin had been constructed or rather created by the simple wave of the hand of his Demon Goddess. New and improved, updated from the one he had back in his own dimension, to have everything he desired then, but had only existed in his own warped mind. All of it had been done during the time the Chosen Two had laid unconscious after their fall through the portal to here. All of it was thanks to the Demon Goddess who had literally rescued him from his torment in the bowels of hell.

Even he had been changed when he was brought here and the deal struck. The change had brought with it an unexpected surprise or bonus besides the extended life or un-life span here in this dimension. The superhuman strength or half demon god strength, enough strength and stamina to outlast, to beat, not one, but two Slayers together. His added bonus had been to the part of him that made him a 'man' or in his own mind what made a man a man. Now he could say he was 'super-sized or rather demon-god-sized'. The thought brought a quiet chuckle to his lips.

It was because of his special connection to his 'baby girl' that the Demon Goddess had rescued him. Had offered him a deal which he would have had to been crazy not to accept. It was a deal made in 'heaven' he liked to think and fuck, even the few restrictions he had to abide by were more than easy enough to live with. Shit, he would have to have been stupid to turn down such a plum opportunity, it was a fulfillment of almost every fantasy and dream, he had ever had during his mortal life.

Along with the deal not only did he get his 'baby girl', his 'daughter', but her blonde-haired lover, Buffy, as well. Two Slayers for the price of one and for the ridiculously simple price of eternally damning his own soul, which had been for all intent and purposes already damned, since he had been rescued literally from the bowels of hell. The only difference now, was that here, unlike there, he could never achieve redemption for his sins. Here if he failed or died again, he would for all eternity be damned to the hell of this dimension. Since he had no intention of failing it was a risk he was willing to take. Besides, he was sure he would have been bored in heaven anyway. And he absolutely adored his Demon Goddess, there was nothing that he wouldn't do for her. He sincerely hoped that she was enjoying the show so far!

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He shook his head clear of his brief trip down memory lane; it was time to turn his attention back to his 'baby girls'. He walked over to the cage still dragging Faith behind him by the hair. He knew she wouldn't start fighting back again until her 'B' was safe, so he took his sweet ass time crossing the room. The Chosen Two would have been surprised by how much he did know about them, their relationship, how they reacted to each other and situations. He probably, like his Demon Goddess, knew more about them and how their hearts and minds worked then they knew about themselves.

Johnny nudged open the door to the cage, tossed Buffy in, and giggled a little at the crunch her body made when it hit the hard floor. He closed the door, locked it, and pocketed the key. He grinned widely, it was finally time to start re-teaching, reintroducing, helping his 'baby girl' to remember all the 'fun' they, well at least he, used to have here in the Play Room together.

Patiently, Faith waited for him to release her hair. It was taking all of her willpower not to attack him while he still held it. He turned around towards her, finally letting go. She pounced, tackling him around the waist.

Johnny stumbled backwards, letting her think that she had the advantage for a change. He did so love it when she fought back. It made it all the more fun for him. She released her grip on his waist and swung an upper cut at his chin.

OHFUCKOHFUCKOHFUCK!

Faith started to back away from him cradling her injured fist in her hand. Punching him had been like hitting a mile thick concrete wall, her fucking knuckles were bleeding, while he just stood there, unhurt, un-bruised, fucking smiling, laughing at her. What the hell was she going to do? She couldn't, wouldn't just submit to him. She was still scared of him, the fear still thrummed through her like a live thing, but the rage was there too. She had only begged, pleaded, acted submissive to kept Buffy safe, but she couldn't, would not do that for herself. Would not give that to him, would not let the fear rule her, not anymore.

She had to fight, even knowing that he would probably win in the end. Knowing too, that it would just make it ten times worse for her, if not more and knowing that in the end she still might plead with him anyway. Still she had to fight him, because if she just submitted, he would end up owning her and that, sure as shit, was never going to happen. Because if she didn't fight then he would really win, and she would rather die, suffer things worse by a thousand-fold, than to ever let him destroy her, or her soul.

Johnny stalked her as she moved away from him, a rabid smile on his face. He practically knew what she was thinking, it was written across her face. She surprised him when she half-spun as if to run from him then turned back towards him. She leapt at him, her foot lashing out, hitting his erection dead on, just like that little Slayer-Runt had. He howled in pain and this time, it was she, who was laughing in his face.

It felt good to laugh at him for a change, to hear the cry of pain come from his mouth and not hers. It felt real damn good, in fact. Faith crouched down low, intending to sweep his feet out from under him, then remembered what it had felt like when her fist had connected with his face. The last thing she wanted was to break her foot on him. So she modified her sweep.

She slid and instead of trying to sweep his ankles. She shot her leg past his ankles and hooked her calf behind them pulling his feet towards her and lifting them up as she started to rise out of the half crouch. She watched as he fell backwards, landing on his back, his head cracking against the floor. "Pop!" She mimicked him from earlier.

Okay this was quickly not becoming fun for him anymore. He did not like it! Not one bit! This was just a little too much fight. He got up painfully to his feet his groin still throbbing, he tried to push it down, but he didn't have the same discipline that both of the Slayers possessed. He moved towards her walking a little awkwardly, pretending though that he was in more pain then he actually was.

Faith lashed out at him with her foot again thinking she had the advantage while he was hurt. She realized a second too late that it was a mistake.

He caught her foot easily in his hand and dragged her struggling towards him. When she was close enough he reached out and grabbed her by the throat, he lifted her just like he had Buffy, until she was dangling in the air a good foot off the floor. "That hurt bitch!"

"Good!" Faith lashed out at him with her hands and feet as he held her. She clawed and scratched at his hand around her neck, as he started squeezing, cutting off her air. This was one of his favorite games. He was once again laughing in her face and it infuriated her even more. Using every ounce of strength she possessed she arched her body towards him, kicking out with her foot and caught him once again hard in the groin, smiling at him as he howled in pain. "Hope... that... hurt... even... more..." she gasped out between breaths.

"Nighty-nite 'baby girl'". He hit her on the side of the temple just like she had hit Buffy and knocked her out cold.

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Faith woke to find herself obscenely chained spread-eagle on the big brass bed, her image staring back at her from the ceiling mirror. She stared wide-eyed at herself, she looked like one big bruise. There wasn't an inch of her body that wasn't covered by blue, green, yellow, purple and black bruises or angry red welts from the belt he had used on her while she was unconscious.

There was dried blood on her chin, lips, under her nose. There was a clearly visible handprint across her cheek and the fact that it was there scared the shit out of her. It was as vivid, as brightly colored as the one that Buffy had given her that night in Angel's old basement apartment when she had first returned to Sunnydale. It drove home with certainty that Johnny was just as strong as they were, if not stronger. Before him, only the Chosen Two could have, and had bruised or hurt each other to this extent.

It was weird but there was a sort of relief that went through her as she stared at the amount of damage that had been done to her. What Johnny had done to her was at least ten times worse then what he had done to Buffy, and that was why she was relieved. While he might toy with, hurt Buffy, Faith knew that almost all of his focus, his energy, and even his abuse would be directed at her. He was still obsessed with her, like he had been for all those years.

She knew what he wanted, he wanted her to love him and for a time she had. That first year he had lived with them she had loved him. It was to him she had run to for protection from her Mother's rages, from her stinging, hurting hands and words. It was in the safety of his arms at six-years-old she had found shelter, acceptance and love. And she had loved him in return for it. Then it all changed the year she turned seven, it was then that he had begun to show her, to force her to learn what his idea of love was. And the love she had felt for the angelic-looking man who had protected her for a year turned to fear and hate.

He would tell her he didn't understand why. His 'daddy' had loved him that way, and he still loved his 'daddy', so why didn't she love him too? She had been too young then to understand what he meant. Even now, there was a part of her that felt sorry, felt empathy, cried with, cried for the child he had been and the abuse that child had been subjected to.

The man he had become hadn't, and still didn't show any remorse, shame, guilt or sorrow over what he had done and was doing now. So the sorrow, the empathy she felt for the child he had been did not extend to the man. Nothing that had been done to him as a child or a man, could excuse what he had done to her, not even being abused himself. The idea of ever doing to a child what had been done to her made her feel physically ill. She could never, not even when her dark side had ruled, not even in her most warped, twisted, evil dreams or nightmares, ever think, conceive of doing this to a child. It still made her sick to think that she had done some of the cruel things to others, like Xander and Wesley that he had done to her.

At seven-years-old for Faith, love became something that was ugly, something that was used to trick and hurt you.

Something that was demanded, dragged from you with brutal force. And the words 'I love you' were the preamble to pain at his hands and things that made her tremble and scream, cry in fear, in pain; and words she said to stop the pain and his cruel hands from hurting her even more.

A lesson he had been taught by his father, and a lesson he in turn had taught to Faith. A lesson unfortunately that she had learned over and over again at the hands of others throughout the years too.

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She tried to break free of the chains, already half knowing that she wouldn't be able to, but she had to try anyway. They gave not an inch; in fact, she found she had very little slack in the chains at all. Already her wrists and ankles were raw, chaffed from the cuffs, and she couldn't help but think that they would probably bleed before this was over.

Johnny crawled onto the bed between her legs, naked as she was. He placed his hands on either side of her head and leaned down towards her, almost whispering, "You know Faithy, that wasn't anyway to show 'daddy' how much you miss and love him." He sounded sincerely hurt.

She shrunk back into the mattress away from him, her skin crawling where his knees touched the inside of her thighs. But it was his voice, tone, which was calm, almost soothing, that scared Faith the most, even more than his snarls and anger. 'Fuck it!' she thought, he was going to hurt her anyway, and even chained she wasn't going down without a fight, so she used the only weapon she had available to her now, her mouth.

"Miss you? Love you? Unchain me you pathetic fucking excuse for a man, a demon, whatever the fuck you are and I'll show you exactly what I feel for you." She looked at him with all the hate, the rage, and even the fear she felt for him. Her eyes burned into his and when she was absolutely sure that she had his full attention, she spit in his face.

He reared back from her, recoiling in disbelief, roaring wordlessly in anger.

HOW DARE SHE! HOW DARE SHE DISRESPECT ME LIKE THAT! SHE FUCKING SPIT ON Me! ON ME! NO ONE HAS EVER SPAT ON ME! NOT BEFORE AND NOT FUCKING NOW!

Faith smiled at him with something akin to glee on her face. Almost unbelieving herself at how angry, how much the simple act of her spitting on him had sent him into a tizzy. Something that looked a lot like pain crossed his face, and she was glad for it, glad to cause him even the smallest amount of pain. She knew she was dangerously flirting with death, but some deep seeded instinct told her he wouldn't kill her. It was almost like the knowledge had been whispered in her ear. He kept on staring at her with rage, as he trembled above her in shock.

He wiped the spittle from his face, smearing it on the sheet by her head, a momentary flicker of disgust shuddered through him. He pulled back his arm, his hand balling into a fist and raised it threateningly over her face. He smiled with satisfaction as he saw her shrink back from him, fear showing in her eyes that stared at him defiantly anyway. "You'll pay for that!" he hissed at her through clenched teeth.

She just laughed at him; he really was a pathetic little man. Her laugher infuriated him even more. He leaned back and slid his hands down to her hips he lifted them up. 'We'll see who's laughing in a minute bitch', he thought, as he smiled maliciously at her, he reared back...

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The scream of pain was torn from her against her will. She screamed as he viscously slammed himself into her unwilling, unwelcoming body.

Screamed, as it felt like he was ripping her in two, as she felt herself tear when she could not stretch any further.

Screamed, as he invaded her body trying once again to shred the fabric of her soul.

Screamed, as the memories assaulted her.

The memories she had fought to forget, the memories she had suppressed. They assailed her, flashing through her mind in a sick kaleidoscope of images and feelings.

She screamed in rage, in pain, in sorrow, in anguish. Screamed for all that had been done to her, for all that she had lost, had been lost to her, and for all that had been taken from her.

Screamed for the child she had been, for the child inside of her now, who still screamed in fear, in pain, and in anguish.

Screamed for the guilt they shared, still shared, and thought belonged to them once again for now, for this, for all of this being their fault.

She continued to scream up into his laughing face in a red-hot haze of rage, of pain, of sorrow, of fear, of anguish, of hate. She screamed until every last drop of air left her body, and then she screamed a little longer. And then she just fell silent, praying in her mind that this was just a grotesque cruel twisted nightmare that she would wake up from safe in the strong loving arms of Buffy.

Faith closed her eyes from the sight of him, the tears falling from them in a river. She prayed that what had been her life with Buffy and her newfound family had not been just a dream.

Because right now, right here, with him on top of her, violating her, his fetid breath hot and heavy on her face, felt like the only reality she had ever known, and everything else had merely been a dream.

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The scream, Faith's scream shattered the darkness that held Buffy captive. The darkness that Faith herself had sent Buffy into. She fought her way up through the darkness towards the light, towards the sound of her mate's anguished scream. The fear she felt for Faith overshadowing her own pain, her own fear, her own rage.

Then the scream stopped and the silence was deafening and it terrorized her more than the scream. She couldn't feel her! No echoes! No nothing. Just silence!

Oh God! Please NONONONO!

She panicked, she didn't want to live, not without Faith, she couldn't survive. There would be no life for her anymore, not without Faith. Then she felt it, that tiny thread that Faith could not shut down. She followed along that thread back to the soul it had first belonged to, followed it up towards the light, fighting to open her eyes.

She was almost sent reeling back down into the darkness as the wall crumbled. Crumbled, as Faith was no longer able to keep blocking her, crumbled as he violated Faith's body and tried to violate her soul, as the floodgates opened and Buffy was slammed with the force of it all, the pain, the rage, the terror, the guilt, the fear, the hate all in one terrifyingly large echo. As the years of abuse and all it wrought flooded her, as the emotions formed images in her mind.

Buffy whispered Faith's name in an agonized sob, as she forced herself to open her eyes. Opened them to the sight of Faith being defiled by that deranged twisted bastard who had the nerve to call himself her father.

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Through everything that was happening to her, Faith felt it, the second Buffy became conscious again. She turned her face away from Johnny towards Buffy, opening her eyes. Unerringly her eyes found Buffy's.

She looked into those hazel depths expecting to find disgust and hate for her, blazing out of Buffy's eyes, now that Buffy knew. Knew what she had been and was again. Knew all her ugly little secrets, knew that it was all Faith's fault. Had been, still was. Knew the real truth of it, and not just what she thought she had figured out on her own.

Faith heard her own words loudly, clearly in her head. The words she had shouted at her own self, as she had pummeled her own body it in the church, when she had stolen Buffy's.

"You're nothing! Disgusting! Murderous bitch! You're nothing! You're disgusting!"

So Faith waited in expectation of seeing those feelings for her to show in Buffy's eyes, when Buffy realized Faith was all those things and more.

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Buffy held back her gasp when she saw that haunted look, much more intense than ever before. The feelings it carried with it, its hold on Faith growing stronger with each passing second. She felt them all, saw them all reflected in those eyes. The self-loathing, self-disgust, the helplessness, the misplaced guilt that this had been and was once again all her fault.

Fear, pain and heart-wrenching loss, all of them jumbled, overlapping, merging with the feelings from before, with the feelings from now. And what broke her heart even a little more was that in her eyes Buffy could see that Faith was waiting for her to reject her. To hate her, to blame and feel disgust for her. She had no doubt of it because she heard the words that were echoing in Faith's own mind at the same time in hers.

The connection between them had expanded so much that Buffy actually could physically feel what Faith was feeling. More than just physically feel it, could feel ghost-like touches on her own body. Could feel the ghost of his fingers biting hard, bruising into Faith's hips as he roughly lifted them to him, could feel the ghost of the cuffs around Faith's wrists and ankles. Feel where the skin had broken and blood was flowing. Could feel the pain and cramping as Faith's limbs were stretched and pulled beyond their capacity. Could feel him tearing Faith on the inside, and the blood that was seeping from between Faith's thighs, pooling on the sheet below.

Buffy's eyes broke away from Faith's for just a second and moved down to the already large stain of blood on the sheet, which was steadily growing larger. Her mind screaming in horror, in terror, there was so much blood!

Buffy's eyes quickly returned and locked with Faith's. She could feel Faith slipping away with every thrust of that demented bastard in her. She wouldn't let that happened, she couldn't let him destroy Faith.

Buffy charged the door of the cage, her eyes never straying from Faith's. She hit the door with all her body weight and Slayer strength, the rage, fear, adding to her momentum. It didn't budge, didn't even bend a little. She charged it again and again, ignoring the pain that screamed through her body, her broken ribs. She kicked it, punched, pulled, slammed against it until her legs collapsed from underneath her when she tried to rise again. Not once breaking her gaze with Faith who had slipped even further away from her, from herself.

Buffy reached out to her in the only way she had left. Keeping her eye's locked with Faith's almost dead ones, she let everything she was flow out; she let her soul flow to Faith, into Faith through their connection. Embracing her with it, surround her with it, letting it live within her.

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Faith watched almost dispassionately as Buffy slammed, charged, and kicked in an effort to get out of the cage. She was retreating, away from all the memories. Away from all the remembered things she had done during those nine years in order to survive. Things he had done to her, things her mother had done to her. Things her mother had knowingly let him do to her in exchange for the drugs he supplied for her. Things they had both let others do to her. And now Buffy knew it all, knew because of the connection between them. And so, she kept her eyes locked with those hazel ones, waiting for the hate and loathing to show in their depths. Waiting for them to echo what she was beginning to once again feel for and believe about herself with every unwanted thrust of him within her.

Instead what Faith found in those eyes, what she felt Buffy surround, embrace her with; was compassion, sympathy, empathy, fear. Not for Buffy herself, but for her, rage, actually beyond rage at what was happening but not a hint of accusation or disgust. And above all else, stronger than before, stronger than all of them together was love. Unwavering, eternal, unconditional love for her.

For just a brief second, time stood still for Faith, what was happening to her body faded, as she bathed in the unconditional love she felt coming from Buffy. As she felt Buffy fill her with it, hold, surround, blanket her in it.

For the first time in her life, she felt truly, completely whole, as fucked up as it was that it was happening here, now. Felt whole because every one of her ugly little secrets were known, there was nothing left hidden from Buffy and Buffy still loved her. She was seeing herself, her real, true self clearly for the first time. And that fierce determination and strength of will came back to her ten-fold. He might break her, violate her body, make her bleed, make her scream, make her beg, plead, but he would NEVER, NEVER OWN OR DESTROY HER! NOT AGAIN! NOT EVER AGAIN!

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With amazement, Buffy saw Faith give her that cocky lopsided grin she loved so much. Watched as Faith's eyes cleared, all of it was still there, the pain, the fear, everything. But there was a quiet defiance, and strength of will too. The same defiance and strength that had enabled Faith to survive his nine-year reign of terror over her, but it was even stronger now. Now too was determination, determination that she would survive, they would survive, that they would get out of here somehow, some way.

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Buffy ignored him after he had unlocked the cage and made his way to the door that led out of the Play Room. There was a self-satisfied smugness on his face that she longed, needed to claw off. She pulled herself up off the floor using the bars of the cage for leverage. She willed herself to stand, then half ran, half staggered to the cage door. She drew strength from some place inside of her she never knew existed before today. Forcing down the pain coursing through her body from all the damage he had inflicted and she herself had inflicted in her efforts to escape the cage over the course of the last twenty-four hours.

Every fiber of her being was centered on her mate who still laid chained unconscious to the bed. On the long half walk, half stagger to the bed, every wheezing pain-filled breath Faith took, created a ghost-like echo of his fingers around Faith's throat on her own. Buffy tried to push away the memories of everything she had heard, everything he had done to Faith, to her. Everything she had seen over the last twenty-four hours; was forced to watch by his threats. And a memory came unbidden to her anyway.

At Faith's silent pleading, Buffy had turned her back on what was happening on the bed. She sank to her knees, burying her head in her hands, quietly sobbing for her lover.

But Johnny didn't like that idea, he wanted the blonde-haired Slayer-Bitch to watch. Wanted to see that helpless look on her face. Wanted to drive home the fact that there wasn't a fucking thing she could do. Wanted her to see as he fucked his 'baby girl', her lover. Wanted to see the same pain, fear, reflected in her eyes that was in Faith's.

"Hey Slayer-Runt..." He yelled out to her. She ignored him, "Slayer-Runt, look at me when I'm talking to you."

"Come here and make me, you lowlife piece of shit." She snarled at him from within her hands.

"Nah, thinkin' I'll just do it from here instead."

She couldn't mistake the menace in his tone. With her Slayer hearing, she heard the rush of his fist, the grunt of pain that came from Faith, then the strange, ghost-like echo of a fist against her own temple. Then she felt Faith slip away into the darkness as she passed out. She heard the rush of his hand again as he started to hit Faith, the whimpers of pain forced from her even though she was unconscious.

"STOPITSTOPIT!"She screamed at him turning around. Surprising her he did, and gave her a charming smile that never reached his glittering cruel eyes.

"That's much better..." His whole demeanor turned menacing again, "Turn around, away again, or even close your eyes and I'll make it a hundred times worse for her. By the time I get done with her, what I'm doing now will seem like a stroll in the park." He raked his nails from Faith's collarbone down to mid-thigh leaving four trails of seeping bloody tracks in their wake to illustrate, drive home his threat. "Understand?"

"Yes," she hissed at him her voice laced with hate-filled venom.

He looked at her questioningly, not sure if he believed her or not, didn't matter, he won either way. In the meantime, he needed to do something else while Faith was unconscious. He thought about it for a second or two and decided that for the hell of it he would just beat a little bit of that understanding into the Slayer-Runt.

Buffy watched him as he withdrew from Faith, she didn't want to but she was afraid if she turned away he would follow through on his threat. Her eyes grew wide with horror, when she saw the size of him. Her heart clutched with terror at the amount of blood on and around his groin. Not his blood, but Faith's.

She crouched into a fighting stance as she watched him approach her, key in hand. Determination to beat him, to spill his blood, to get them out of this, coursing through every cell in her body. Determination that didn't stop him from beating her into a bloody puddle on the floor.

The memory fled from her mind as she reached the bed and her gaze fell upon Faith. Her heart skipping beats in unmitigated terror when she saw the amount of blood on the bed. Her mind became incapable of any coherent thought. Just an endless litany of, 'ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod,' echoing loudly in her head.

She moved quickly now, any pain of her own forgotten. She undid the cuffs, her own tears falling unnoticed from her eyes onto the bed. She rubbed some warmth back into Faith's hands and feet, grateful that she was still unconscious. Grateful only because in the darkness Faith wouldn't be feeling any pain.

She grabbed some pillows from the floor and put them under Faith's head hoping to ease her breathing. Keeping her mind firmly away from why Faith was wheezing, her breathing labored and painful. She went over to the wardrobe in the corner hoping to finds some towels or something to use to clean Faith up. She opened the door and wished to god that she hadn't. Her mind was unable to even grasp what she saw in there, her body trembled uncontrollably just at the mere thought of any of those things being used. She slammed the door shut quickly. She scanned the room, there was nothing in here, no clothes, no towels, nothing. She had to get them out of here; she didn't want Faith waking in here.

She made her way over to the door and stopped in front of it. She opened her mind to the room behind it using her Slayer senses. She didn't hear any movement and she no longer felt his presence. She reached out and grabbed the doorknob giving it a hard twist expecting she would have to break it, and was surprised that it turned easily in her hand. She opened the door a little suspiciously, expecting a trap and peeked out. Not seeing anyone, she walked out into the main room. She paused again, listening intently but didn't hear anything.

She scanned the room and saw that everything was the same, the couch was still overturned, there was still blood on the floor behind it, the quilts still lay on the floor by the recliner from the fight the day before. She righted the couch and picked the quilts up off the floor, thinking that being out here would definitely be better than being in there. Anywhere would be better than in there.

She went in search of a bathroom or a kitchen praying that she would find a first aid kit. She moved quickly blocking her own body's pain, Faith her only concern. She wanted to clean her up and bandage her before she woke up. She had just found the bathroom when she felt Faith wake up, heard the whimpers of pain, felt them echo through her. Everything was forgotten as she ran back to the Play Room for Faith.

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She climbed up out of the darkness into a world full with nothing but pain. Her first thought was for Buffy. She turned her head towards the cage, but she couldn't see too well. Her vision was blurry, her eyes almost swollen completely shut from his blows. Dimly she realized she was no longer chained.

"B?"

Her voice not even a whisper. She tried to sit up and found she couldn't. By sheer will power, whimpering low in her throat, she rolled herself over. She tried to rise to her hands and knees but couldn't support herself.

"B?"

It hurt to talk, but her fear for Buffy overrode everything else. Terror struck deep inside of her when Buffy didn't answer her again, nor could she feel her through the thick wall of her own pain. Inch by torturous inch she pulled herself towards the edge of the bed, towards the cage.

Dully she heard the sound of someone running, then a hand was reaching towards her. Faith involuntary flinched back from it, "No more... please..." she pleaded.

Buffy's hand froze, "Faith..."

Faith didn't recognize the voice as Buffy's, it was too low, deep and husky. She might have realized that it sounded that way from all the screaming Buffy had done over the last day if her own thoughts had been clearer. She started pushing herself backwards fast, away from the hand, across the bed. Whispering, asking brokenly, incoherently for the voice not to hurt her.

When she realized that Faith didn't know it was her, Buffy dropped to her knees beside the bed, so that Faith could see her. She was afraid to reach out for her, afraid Faith would keep backing up and fall off the bed hurting herself even more.

"Faith," she whispered softly, and this time Buffy didn't even recognize her own voice. "Faith... b-b-b-ab..." Buffy stumbled over the word baby not wanting to use it after hearing him call Faith his baby girl over and over again. "Faith it's me... Buffy. B..."

Faith raised her head in the direction of the voice, trembling in fear, praying this wasn't another of his twisted games. Blearily she looked across the bed, trying to focus, a surge of relief ran through her when she saw it was Buffy.

"B... You oka..." she asked reaching out towards her, never finishing as she passed out again, her body and mind exhausted unable to handle the pain any longer.

Buffy rose and scrambled around the bed to the other side. She turned Faith over as gently as possible, afraid even to touch her lest she hurt her. Her heart clutching when she saw the fresh blood on the sheets, she shouldn't still be bleeding, why was she still bleeding? Buffy was frantic now, Faith's Slayer healing should have stopped the bleeding by now. An all-consuming rage rose up in her, she wanted to rip him apart with her hands, her teeth, something feral, primal, growled deep inside of her in response. Her anger was washed away and replaced by her concern for Faith as her eyes fell upon her again. She picked her up cradling Faith in her arms delicately. Slowly she walked out to the main room, praying with each step that her own legs would not give out on her. She placed Faith on the couch and covered her with a quilt, then went to the bathroom to get supplies.

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Wearing one of the robes she had found on the back of the door and carrying the other, Buffy came out of the bathroom with some warm wet towels, a few dry ones, and a first aid kit from under the sink.

She set everything on the table by the couch and removed the quilt from Faith. She took a deep breath, forcing herself into Slayer mode. Forcing herself to look at Faith's wounds with clinical eyes and not those of a lover. She set about cleaning them, trying to be as careful and gentle as possible so as not to cause her any unnecessary pain. Grateful again, that Faith was unconscious because she knew no matter how gentle she was this would hurt and hurt bad.

Buffy had almost finished cleaning up the last of the cuts when Faith sat straight up. She scrambled away from Buffy across the couch before she could stop her. Her eyes wild, she tried to scream out 'Please no!' but it came out as a hoarse, painful whimper.

"Faith... Faith it's me."

Faith drew her knees up to her chest, she whimpered at the pain, but wrapped her arms protectively around them anyway. She began rocking and whispering, "I'm sorry... sorry... I'm sorry B..." over and over again.

Buffy moved down the couch and sat next to Faith, gathering her into her arms. Holding her tenderly, rocking with her, Buffy's own tears falling. "Ssshhh... not your fault... ssshhh... never your fault..." Buffy continued holding the shivering Dark Slayer, stroking her hair, crooning to her softly. Telling her again and again it wasn't her fault, that she was, they were, safe for now.

Both Slayers jumped when a familiar sickly sweet voice asked them, "So girls... did you enjoy your first wide-awake day here in my world?" The Chosen Two stared across the room, both thinking they had to be dreaming. The woman continued when they didn't answer her in that same irritating, sickly, sweet voice. "'Cause I gotta tell ya, I sure as hell enjoyed watching it!"

Buffy heard Faith begin to growl low, feral in the back of her throat, could feel it vibrating through her skin. With surprise, she realized that she was growling in sync with the Dark Slayer, and once again could feel something ancient, remembered rising up from somewhere deep inside of her. She heard an answering call to it from somewhere deep inside of Faith.

Faith forced her bruised throat to rise above a whisper as she snarled out, "You skanky-ass-bad-hair-scum-sucking-fucking-bitch, I'm gonna rip your fucking heart out."

Buffy could feel pain and fear radiating off Faith in waves. She knew the effort it was taking for her not to shrink back in fear after all that had been done to her that day, the sheer strength of will that was even keeping her conscious at this point. As weird and almost out of place as it was Buffy couldn't help but feel admiration for Faith's courage at this moment.

The slight pressure of Buffy's hand upon her stopped Faith from attacking. Knowledge that they could not defeat this enemy, not yet, not now, not in the condition they both were in came to her from Buffy. She stilled in Buffy's embrace, the fear and rage continuing to keep the pain at bay. She kept growling low, feral in the back of her throat, in sync with her mate.

Her nostrils flaring she took a deep breath, basking in the fear coming from the Chosen Two. The layers upon layers of fear, so much stronger, sweeter, then the fear that came from the demons that lived within this realm, humans had so many more layers, levels of fear, anguish and pain. It was heady, delectable, and additive. Her head was almost spinning from it. It was so much stronger here in the room with them. She smiled, glad that she had decided to take the raven-haired Slayer and the Slayer-Runt back home with her.

She sat back in the chair, relaxing, letting the emotions caress her, "So... I suppose you want to know what happened..." Glory's smile grew wider, her mood friendly, open, as the soothing fear coming from the Chosen Two made her a little drunk.

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"Hmmmm... Where to start?" Glory tapped her finger against her chin thoughtfully. "Well, I guess I don't need to tell you that the ritual worked. Do I? Your little watcher man didn't quite finish the job on Ben. He got a little distracted by the portal opening. Only a second or two longer and well Ben would have been dead, maybe... not quite sure on that point though. Once the portal opened the energy was already working, restoring me to my former Glory." She paused giggling at her own pun, thinking how smart she was. "Before you get your hopes up, let me tell you that your little... what is it that they call themselves?" She paused for dramatic effect, breathing deeply of the fear again. She giggled so heady was the sensation.

"Scoobies! That's it! I'm right aren't I?" She continued not waiting for either Slayer to reply. "Your Scoobies won't be rescuing you this time. 'Cause you see, they all think you're both dead. I really hadn't planned on bringing either of you here, it was a spur-of-the-moment-type thingie. But you see, Faithy was standing in my path and I kind of knocked into her, and the second I brushed up against you baby girl and got a taste of all those sweet, hidden layers of fear and pain in you..." Glory paused and savored the shudder that resembled desire, which rippled under her skin just at the thought.

"Well, what's a girl to do? I just couldn't resist you Faithy! That's when I got the idea, especially after I discover Faithy's 'daddy' hidden deep inside. The thing is... in the Portal time doesn't exist, not in any real sense. So while you two were floating in the energy I went and visited an old friend and got him to give me Johnny. It just wouldn't have worked without Johnny. Every girl needs her father. Don't you agree Faithy? Once I got him well... enough said. Then it came to me; Why not take them both? Especially since you are so attached to the Slayer-Runt here baby girl. So you can thank your girl here, Slayer-Runt for getting to join the party..."

Glory stopped and watched their faces, in particular Faith's, as she revealed why they were here. She had played on Faith's guilt, licking her lips in anticipation of the anguish she knew would be coming from the girl.

"You fucking bitch. Don't try blaming her for your sick twisted actions." Buffy spat out at Glory, figuring out quickly what she was trying to do to Faith. She wasn't going to let her. "This isn't her fault! None of this was ever her fault! I know it, you know it and that scumbag Johnny knows it. So go play your fucking mind games with someone else!"

In less than the blink of an eye, Faith was taken from Buffy's arms. Glory stared Buffy down as she made herself comfortable, one arm around the Dark Slayer now in her lap, the other hand gently caressing her hair.

Fear for Faith kept Buffy deathly still, her stomach churning with revulsion when she saw the lust in Glory's eyes that her fear created. 'Oh god! Why didn't I keep my mouth shut?' Buffy thought as she prayed that her big mouth wasn't the cause of further pain for Faith.

She watched helpless as Glory's hand glided down from Faith's hair to her neck, as her fingers touched reverently over the finger marks Johnny had left there. She debated launching herself at Glory, and something in her demeanor must have tipped off the insane bitch because she smiled with malice at Buffy first, before her gaze lowered. Her fingers tightened around Faith's throat, then Glory cocked her head as if her neck had been snapped, in silent warning. Buffy stilled, afraid to blink, to breathe, afraid the slightest movement on her part would cause Glory to follow through on that silent threat and snap Faith's neck.

Faith's whole body started to tremble violently. She bit her lip making it bleed to keep from whimpering in fear. She whimpered in pain and fear anyway when Glory's fingers bit cruelly into the marks on her throat that Johnny had left. The fingers started to squeeze, increasing the pain in her bruised windpipe.

Her air was cut off again for the, she didn't know how many times over the last twenty-four hours. Cold sweat poured from her, as Glory started to play Johnny's favorite game. She felt herself sliding towards the darkness, the terror overwhelming her just like it did when he did this to her. Afraid that this time her windpipe would be crushed for real, that this time she would not return from the darkness. Because despite everything that had happened to her in the past, had happened now, Faith didn't want to die.

A second before she slipped into the darkness' welcoming cold embrace the squeezing fingers were gone. She gulped huge frantic, fiery breaths into her lungs. She choked back the bile that rose in her throat, as Glory licked the sweat from her fingertips, whispering to her how sweet she tasted.

Faith's fear, the taste of it sweet and intoxicating on her tongue returned Glory's friendly, generous mood. She began softly to stroke Faith's cheek, loving even the nausea, the revulsion the girl felt at her touch. Oh yes, humans were so much more delicious then her own kind!

"As I was saying Slayer-Runt. I brought you along because you mean so much to sweet little Faithy here. But you are probably wondering why everyone thinks you two are dead, aren't you?" She smiled at Buffy, waiting for a response.

This was inhuman, bizarre, surreal. So fuck-up in so many ways that Buffy would never be able to count them all. She couldn't help think that this 'God' was a bona-fide raving idiot lunatic, and pure insane evil. Did the Demon Goddess actual expect to have a civil, friendly conversation with them?

Expect it while Buffy was sitting horrified, shocked, in fear for Faith's life and her sanity, as well as her own. After she had been bruised from head to toe, her ribs broken, thanks to that other evil scum that Glory had unleashed on them. After her lover had been violated in one of, if not the worst way that a woman possibly could be, was covered in even more bruises, welts then Buffy was.

Expect it while Faith sat trembling naked, terrified, in unimaginable pain, her cheek being stroked, in the lap of the same fucking lunatic-god who had pulled them into this nightmare.

Glory really didn't think that, did she?

Buffy stared back at Glory and saw that she did, that she wanted to have a nice, friendly conversation, as if they were all old friends playing catch up! She was almost convinced that it was her who was insane, or perhaps someone had slipped some extra-strong acid in her drink and this was all a bad nightmare of a trip. She almost started laughing in insane hysterics as Glory waited patiently for her to answer, "Um... Yes."

"Oh good, I was right! I knew you would want to know. You could say I pulled a 'Monk' on them!" Glory giggled, that same hysterical giggle of a madwoman that Dawn had sworn she would never forget. "Anyway all I needed was a drop of each of your blood and POOF instant soulless Slayer clones. And since the Slayer-Runt clone, is you just soulless it had your blood running through it. When it died, the portal closed. Closed, just like it would have if you had died Runt.

"That was so noble of you to sacrifice yourself for the Key. I mean you can't blame them for thinking you're dead. After the portal closed, two bodies fell to the ground. Imagine, two bodies that looked exactly like you two, lay dead on the ground, the Cloned-Slayer-Runt and her lover the Cloned-Slayer-Slut." Glory laughed again, amused by her names for them.

"Once back here I obliterated the two who had exiled me. It was so simple you should have seen it. It was beautiful!" Glory paused for a second, her eyes getting a little dreamy, "It's so much better here..." Glory's voice lowered as she continued in a conspiratorial whisper, "You see here I don't have to brainsuck you to find out what is behind all of those hidden layers. A simple touch will do."

Glory was beginning to remind Buffy of Drusilla.

Another shudder of revulsion ran through Faith at the thought of this obviously insane-god feeling around in her mind. She had to force down the bile again as Glory ran her hand down the length of her body, pressing just hard enough to cause a trail of pain.

Buffy hissed at Glory when she started to move her hand down the length of Faith's body. She started to growl, low, softly under her breath, the desire to rip Glory apart with her bare hands pounding through her when she felt the pain Faith was feeling and saw it on her face.

"Such a deliciously tormented soul you have Faithy. So many hidden delights you have." Glory's voice grew huskier with each word; her eyes glittered with unconcealed lust as they roamed over Faith.

Faith averted her gaze, what she saw in Glory's eyes terrified her more than anything or anyone ever had, even Johnny. Glory smiled, amused at Buffy's snarls of warning at the looks, the touches, she was lavishing on her lover.

"...and well the rest that happened over the first seven days is just boring details... Although I did like the beatings, they kind of broke up the monotony. But all that really doesn't matter now. 'Cause I'm home, I'm the only god in charge, well actually the only god left... I have you two here with me, and Johnny! Girls we are going to have so much fun the four us. You can't imagine the fun we are going to have!" Glory laughed, delighted, and for just a second something shifted. The air around her seemed to bend, in her excitement and lust, she lost a little of the control that kept what she really was hidden under the human mask that she was wearing.

The hand that had been sliding over the length of Faith's body changed slightly into something resembling a claw, the nails razor sharp as they sliced through Faith's skin, leaving a trail of blood now with the pain. It felt like something infinitely cold, slimly, something that was evil in its purest sense was touching her naked skin. Myriads of images flashed, were pushed into her mind with that touch as if they were seeping into, under her skin. Images of promised horrors, of unimaginable pain and torture, hers, Buffy's, others that she didn't know. It ran under her skin, like a snake slithering around inside of her and it repulsed and sickened her.

Surprising both Glory and Buffy, Faith violently pushed against Glory trying to rip herself free of her touch, desperate as she felt the bile rising up quickly, hotly and thick in the back of her throat. She knew she wouldn't be able to hold it back and was terrified of what Glory would do to her if she vomited on her.

Buffy was off the couch, and running at them less than a second after Faith moved. With a wave of her hand, Glory sent Buffy flying across the room without even touching her. She was pissed at Faith for destroying her delicious, lustful 'high', but she would fix that. She stood grabbing Faith by the arm, her nails sinking through her skin, ripping the muscles underneath. Holding Faith high up in the air, she dropped her like a soccer ball, then kicked her as she fell.

She smiled widely, licking her lips with sensual pleasure as the pain and fear washed over her from the Chosen Two again. Laughing at them she was gone before Faith even hit the ground a few feet from Buffy.

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She landed on the floor near Buffy face first, putting her hands out in front of her to break her fall. They gave right out, unable after all that had happened in the last day to support her. The right side of her face smashed into the floor, her cheek split open, but the pain was nothing compared to the pain lancing up and down her spine and legs, from Glory's kick.

The contents of her stomach gushed out from her in wave after wave, as if ridding her body of the vile thing that had been crawling under her skin from Glory's malevolent touch. When her stomach was empty, her body was wracked with dry heaves that left her gasping for air, her stomach cramping, convulsing. Moaning she tried to move away but her body had been pushed beyond even her Slayer endurance, and she could not move or rise. She lay there helpless, sobbing in pain, ashamed, in a pool of her own blood and vomit; wanting more than anything else to wash away the dirt that felt like a live thing under her skin from all that had happened to her, and to Buffy, that day.

Buffy scrambled over to Faith on her hands and knees. She ignored her broken ribs, the pain from all the beatings over the course of this eternally long day. Ignored them because they were nothing compared to what had been done to Faith, nothing compared to the pain that Buffy could feel in the echo. Guilt hummed through her because there was now even more pain, all because she couldn't keep her fucking stupid mouth shut. She reached for Faith and stopped at her pain-filled whispered 'No.' Then the rest of what Faith was feeling seeped out of the pain that had been surrounding it.

Buffy gathered Faith up in her arms, ssshing her protests. Telling her she was sorry, she wasn't dirty, this wasn't her fault. Telling her, they would find a way out of this, wanting desperately to believe that it was true herself. She whispered to her of her unconditional love, kept whispering to Faith everything she was to her, felt for her, as she rose up to shaky legs and carried her to the bathroom.

She put Faith gently down upon the floor, and turned on the water in the bathtub. As gently as possible she washed away the blood and vomit with a soft cloth, still whispering to Faith as she whimpered in pain. Relief flooded through her when she saw the worst of the bleeding had stopped. Once again came the growl of anger at what had been done to Faith, then a softer purr of compassion from something ancient, something hidden deep inside that ran through her blood. It quickened in her as she felt an answering response from the same thing that lived deep inside of Faith.

When she was finished washing away the blood and vomit, she ran a warm bath. She lifted Faith once again into her arms, the ancient thing inside of her lending her strength. She climbed into the tub with Faith, and sat down pulling her back against her. She whispered to her all the things they would do when they escaped this place. Whispered to her of their future together, kept whispering to her long after Faith finally fell asleep in her arms. She kept whispering of her love until her own voice trailed off and she joined her heart, her soul in the blessed release of sleep.

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Atropos lifted her eyes from the tapestry after the Slayers fell to sleep. She waved her hand over the Tapestry of Life, doing the only thing she could that would not be deemed interfering. With the wave of her hand, she cast a little magic so that the water in the bath would stay warm and comforting until they awoke and rose from it.

She looked at her two sisters, and a silent understanding of how this had come to pass, how they had missed it, went from one to the other. Lachesis and Clotho took a step back as they saw the fury building up in their oldest sister's eyes. They felt sorry for him, because Atropos fury was something to be feared.

Atropos moved to the center of the room, she bellowed out in a voice that had sent 'gods' falling to their knees in fear of her, "LUC! GET UP HERE NOW!"

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