He flinched as she scrambled away from him when she woke and saw him by the bedside. It took her a moment to remember who and where she was, the photo of them together on the night table an anchor in stormy seas. She didn't say anything but he saw the muscles uncoil and relax, a faint color rising to her cheeks. He didn't bring attention to it, though it hurt, and offered her the teacup in his hands. She sat up, pushing a hand through her hair before taking the cup and setting it to the side. He was still young, she noticed. She hadn't registered that the night before.
"Sorry. Last night's kind of hazy still."
"Please, you don't have to apologize, Faith." He picked up the tea cup from where she'd discarded it and offered it to her again. "Only, please do try to drink a little something, darling."
"I'm not thirsty."
She didn't mean for her tone to sound like that, but when she looked at him she saw the face of the demon that tortured her for weeks. She wondered if he felt guilty for being an unwilling observer. She wondered if it would ever go away. She wondered if she'd ever be able to look him in the eyes again.
"Alright." He set the cup down again.
"I'm not mad at you." Apropos of only her thoughts, the sentence burst out with no lead.
"I didn't think that you were."
"Well, I'm not. I know that monster wasn't you. But he did a hell of a job wearing your skin."
"I know. I was privy to much of what he did to you." He paused. "He enjoyed making me aware of it."
She looked like she'd been abused beyond endurance. He'd seen much of it, but not all. He could see it written on her now as plainly as if it were stenciled onto her skin - written in indelible black ink the litany of crimes committed against her by the demon. His heart ached, not just for her losses but for the knowledge that he'd allowed it to enter their lives. He was to blame for that demon crossing over into their world. In his rash folly, something he'd desperately wanted to believe he'd grown out of, he invited ruin to them all.
"I know there's no way I can apologize for all of this. I want so much to -"
"Stop. If you love me at all you won't make me do this right now."
He immediately clamped his mouth shut, swallowing back down the words that had been ready to make their way between them. Suddenly he just wanted to hold her and soothe her until all of it just fell away and they could go back to the way things were before. He didn't dare, but the image played in his mind.
"I could heal you," he offered softly, "physically, I mean."
"No, No more magic."
She was never accused of being the smartest in the bunch but she knew damn well that after all of this the answer wasn't more magic. Scooting away from him she got out of bed. Bruises were peeking out from under the neckline of her tank top. He remembered what she'd shown him in the house and felt his heart melt.
"I love you," he ventured at last, without other option to express the swirling tumult of thoughts in his head.
"I love you too." She sighed, shaking slightly. "I just...I don't know how to deal with any of this. If I thought my life was fucked up before, the hits just keep coming."
"Dearest," he laid a hand on her shoulder that she brushed off. "Things weren't this bad before."
"You were a port in the storm then. I needed you. Now that the threat is gone, I don't know how to deal. Can you honestly tell me you're just peachy with everything that happened?"
"Of course not, Faith, but I'm more concerned about you. Tell me what you need. Anything. I'll do it."
"He might have gotten me pregnant." The words were quiet and she wrapped her arms around her body. "When he, you know. When -" the rest of the sentence died without warning, caught in her throat.
"We could go get a test."
"Isn't it too soon? Is there any way to make sure? That, that nothing is there? If you want to use magic now's the time, I think."
"Oh." He moved and put his hand on her belly, feeling. "This isn't my area of expertise, understand, but I can do some research."
"I just want to know I'm still me. There's no part of him left behind."
"I understand." He frowned, thinking of all of the research he'd be doing and the time it would take. Ripper wouldn't have cared about technicalities. He used his magic much more freely. "With your permission?"
He showed her his hands, glowing with energy. She nodded after a beat, studying him. He placed his hands on her abdomen again and pressed lightly against her skin.
"What are you doing?"
"Sending magic into your body. Think of it like echolocation. It's filling up the empty spaces and I can feel it bounding back. If something is there, I should feel it."
He spent a few minutes thoroughly exploring, taking note of what he felt. All of it seemed usual and gave him nothing to report. After his search he took his hand away and let them drop. The glow faded and he breathed out an exhale he didn't know he'd been holding in.
"As far as I can tell, if that was his plan he hadn't yet accomplished it"
"Thanks."
She moved to tug a real shirt over her head, covering up more than normal. He followed her into the living room where the others were mostly awake. There was coffee and Willow was making eggs. They all jumped up when she came into the room and she ignored them to pour a cup of fresh brew. Buffy shot a glance to the Watcher and he shook his head, demuring.
"Thanks for getting me out of there."
She addressed all of them, all of them had a part to play in her rescue. They all nodded. Willow beamed over her frying pan.
"I think a lot of rest is in order. Maybe a vacation?"
"Great idea, Buffster. We can go up to a beach somewhere and have lazy days in the shade."
"That might be just what the doctor ordered. I can use my credit card to-"
"Stop it!"
Faith dropped the cup in her hand, bringing her hands to her ears. It fell to the floor with a clatter, spilling dark coffee all over the beige tile. They all stared at her, slack jawed. She stood in place, not noticing the hot liquid that had spilled across her socks or the way everyone was looking at her. The silence was oppressive, a living force around each and every one of them.
"How can you talk about vacations?" She demanded, when at last she could. "It's disgusting! Maybe a beach can help you guys forget what happened, but I can't just put it away and forget it."
She stormed out of the room, tears threatening to fall. She cursed herself for feeling weak. There was a time when she would have tried to pack it all away and forget but she just wasn't that person anymore. That person tried so hard not to have a conscience and nearly destroyed everything, including herself. She ran down the hall and locked the door, hunkering down in a corner and hugging her knees tightly to her chest.
Giles stared after her and didn't follow. Buffy broke the silence first, though words were on the tips of other tongues.
"I didn't mean to do that."
"I know," he reassured. "I'm afraid she's very lost indeed. She endured more than you can know, more than I can share even if it were my place to do so. We must all be very gentle for the time being, until she's ready."
"When will that be?"
"Truly, I don't know. All I can do, all we can do, is wait."
