Chapter 19: Time To Say I Did

1753

Faith felt the exact moment the spell released her, she stirred within her bed and wondered whether she had actually been to sleep at all. Not that it mattered, she wouldn't be getting any more sleep that night. Her things were already packed for their escape tomorrow.

Would Willow be able to find her if she ran?

It didn't matter.

There was no way Faith would go willingly.

Except that Thomas wanted his little girl back.

There was probably a little girl in LA desperate to come home to her family.

No. Faith shook it off. Kathy could adapt and Thomas didn't deserve her back. She wasn't losing Liam. Not for anything. Even if it was selfish. She'd spent her life being selfish. Why break the habit of a lifetime?

She needed to see Liam. To feel him. To make this real again. Liam was the only thing that could stop her mind from racing, ground her, remind her where she was and who she was with. He was real, he was here, what could be bad when they were together? Crawling out of her bed, wrapping the blankets around her shoulders to keep the December chill at bay she padded out her room and along the silent corridor to the spare room where Liam was spending the night. She hoped he wasn't still out, with a fervour she didn't dare voice.

A sick feeling bubbled within her stomach. Worry. She didn't like him being out at night whilst she wasn't there. A fact which he chafed against; he didn't like being told what to do. By anybody. No more than she did. So, most of the time she let him go. And only sometimes lingered around in the shadows keep an eye.

The door didn't creak when she opened it and she didn't know why she expected it to. Liam was on the bed, snoring obliviously and she relaxed instantly. He was safe. He was here. Closing the door behind her she crossed the room and crawled up next to him on the bed. Smiling she placed her lips gently against his, kissing and biting at his lips to rouse him. His eyes flickered open eventually, though they took a few moments to let his brain catch up.

"Faye?" He grumbled sleepily, somewhat confused, still drunk, she could taste the alcohol on his lips.

"Expecting somebody else?" She was grinning wolfishly, doing her best to mask the inner desperation she felt to be next to him.

"It's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding," he stated groggily.

"Liam, let's go. Let's just get our stuff and leave, tonight, right now." She pleaded. He blinked and sat up, blankets pooling at his waist to reveal a chest, smooth, marred by scratches and teeth-marks.

"Faye…" He started, exhaustion of the subject already setting in.

"No. Liam. You don't understand." Faith begged, on her knees next to him on the bed. "This wedding, it means nothing, I'm yours and you're mine and if we stay-"

"We have to get married Faye." He insisted, holding her hand.

"Why? I don't believe in God, any more than you do, you hate your family. Let's not give them satisfaction. It's a farce and-"

"Faye," he tried, firmly.

"No." She yelled, a little too loudly. "Give me one good reason why we should wait and stay here another moment…" Faith reasoned desperately. If they could go, they could be across the water by tomorrow and lost to the future. Angelus wasn't sired in Wales, where the boat would stop. Nor England. Nor Scotland. Nor France. Wherever they went, they would be together.

"My mother is dying Faye." Liam breathed, fully awake. Faith paled, mouth open.

"What?"

"Her headaches, she has a growth, in her head. It's getting bigger and pressing on her skull, she's getting weaker."

"Okay…" Faith processed, "but we're leaving anyway." How long had he known? Why hadn't she guessed? Was this where he told her he wanted to say? Her stomach felt leaden, heavy.

"I know, I know." He nodded, "but she won't live to see my sister get married, I can give her this. Before I go." His eyes were sad, and Faith wondered how much of this was running from the inevitable pain of losing his mother. He was running too. "I've not told you this, but I think the reason my father hasn't brought my sister back is because of us. He thinks we're sinful, I suppose we are. He fears we'll lead her astray, or damage her reputation so that no one will marry her."

"Liam…" Faith decided it was time to tell him, everything.

"Faye." He countered, frustrated at her interruption. "If we get married, then even if we're gone, we're not shaming him, my mother, my sister can come back, and my mother gets her daughter back. She gets to see her again before she dies. You mean everything to me, married or not, I don't want to live a moment without you. But I'm leaving her, I'm never going to see her again. The least I can do is give her daughter back to her, she deserves to see her before she dies."

Faith swallowed thickly.

"Of course." She agreed, suddenly understanding the façade Thomas had 'allowed'. It was never about Faith or Liam. It was about Alma. He was fulfilling a final wish, distracting her from the inevitable.

Her wedding was a gift.

Faith fell against Liam, pressing her face against his chest so that he wouldn't see her tears. He kissed her hair, affectionately, lovingly.

"One more day, my love." He promised, pulling her in close. "One more day and we belong to nobody."

"One more day." Faith repeated, then pulled away slightly. "Let's make it count." She pushed him back on the bed. If there was one thing they did well, it was pretending the world didn't exist. Faith didn't even bother to close the windows. Let everybody hear how hard they loved.

Faith was ushered from Liam's room by the servants at the crack of dawn. They meticulously dressed her, did her hair, makeup. She watched her reflection numbly, watching herself be transformed into something she had never believed she would be.

A bride.

She was going to marry Liam. Today. In front of everybody. She'd never admit how happy that made her, not to another living soul. It meant everything. Her mood was flat, she struggled to enjoy the atmosphere. Being near Alma was painful, the veil had been lifted and she saw a frail, dying woman. How long did she have left? How long did any of them have left?

The walk from the house to the church was slow and cold, Faith, though far more used to wearing heavy dresses now than she'd ever imagined being, kept stumbling over the frozen cobbles. Skirts and petticoats smeared with dirty water from puddles and mud because she couldn't hold it all up enough. She'd imagined a horse and carriage or something. People lined the streets, watching, cheering. The tavern owners alone owed most of their livelihood to Faith and Liam. Better times, when they'd had nights to spare getting drunk, enjoying themselves. Faith envied herself every single one.

"You need to keep your skirts up, they're getting all muddy." Charlotte chastised, gathering some at the back and pushing them into Faith's grip. Faith would have snapped, except she was watching Alma, watching her wistfully. Instead, she nodded, muted.

She was the last person who should be wearing white on their wedding day.

The walk was quiet, various members of Liam's extended family followed behind as bridesmaids, happily chattering. But Charlotte – who had planted herself as a sort of maid of honour – and Faith had the lead in sort of stoic silence. Charlotte had no children of her own, Faith wondered how painful this was for her, watching Liam marry somebody she didn't approve of in order of expediency so that her sister got to see one of her children married in the sight of God.

Ugh.

"Didn't you want Kathy to be a bridesmaid?" She asked, unsure where the urge came from. Alma visibly flinched and Faith regretted the question immediately. She was angry, but not at Alma. She was angry with Thomas for sending the girl away and lying to his family. For letting Liam believe it was his fault that his sister wasn't here with their mother. Charlotte regarded her with surprise for a moment, Faith didn't know when to shut up. "Do you not wonder where she is?"

"I've learnt, as will you, that it's best not to ask questions."

Faith frowned, she'd wanted Alma to answer.

"She's your daughter, she could be anywhere. She should be here, with you. And you just…let her go?"

"One day Faye," Alma spoke finally, softly, without any anger. "You'll learn that your husband's interests and yours are one in the same thing."

"And if I don't?"

"Then you'll have a very miserable, long life." Charlotte retaliated hotly. Faith dropped the subject.

The life that stretched in front of her wasn't one of obedience. It never had been. But would Liam expect it of her? Did a man expect a different type of behaviour once their claim was staked? It would take more strength than he had to over-power her, but it was a struggle to keep reminding herself that this was a male-dominated world. She might be stronger, but that was the only advantage she would ever have in this world. Sooner or later, he would expect her to be obedient and they would have a very big problem.

She was giving up everything for him.

Every hope at redemption.

She was leaving everybody in the lurch.

Leaving Sunnydale to burn.

To save a man who could never know, never understand what she had given up.

Faith's heart ached inside her chest.

She couldn't, no, wouldn't live without him.

So, what else could she do?

Leaving him now? Impossible.

For better or worse.

Present

Everything had fallen into place, the demon was paid, it was just a waiting game now. A few hours and Angel would see Faith again. Angel tried to picture the slayer in his head, how she had been when she left, but the only images he could conjure up of her now were memories from the past. Crystal clear memories, tactile, vivid almost palpable memories which made him ache with more than desire. The Faith he remembered, bad language, bad-ass attitude, large hazel eyes were fading and, in her place, the uncouth, insatiable force that she had whisked into his life with.

Her laugh.

Her smell.

Her touch.

Things which he'd had no knowledge of for centuries and now could recall as if he'd just fallen out of her bed this morning.

There was only one problem left and that was Kathy.

She didn't want to go back and had spent the last few hours sobbing and begging him to let her stay. Refusing to go. Trying to convince a child of the magnitude of the situation, of the consequences should she not go back, would have been easier if Angel didn't know the fate, he was sending her to. Technically she didn't have to go back, they weren't using the same spell, he could keep her. Nobody else knew what was waiting for her. Well, aside from maybe Wesley who had given him a strange look but said nothing. Angel was trying to remain calm about the whole thing, but it was getting under his skin.

Kathy couldn't stay here any more than Faith could stay in the past.

But dragging a child away from modern comforts, luxuries, electricity, to send her back to a cold home where her entire life would end, painfully, brutally.

How did you do that to somebody you cared for?

So, he'd left her to Fred and Cordelia and locked himself away unable to look into those terrified, doleful eyes anymore.

1753

Faith had never lacked confidence, never, not once. But walking down the long aisle of the church, with what seemed to be every single person from the entire city watching, was daunting. The light shining in through the windows wasn't beautiful, or romantic. It was eerie and oppressive. The smell of polished wood and damp stone was claustrophobic. And yet her senses wouldn't quit being in overdrive. Every little noise. Every little movement triggered her instant need to react and even though she quelled it, she felt like every single fibre of her being was vibrating.

Taking a deep breath, she focused her attention on Liam. Standing proudly at the front of the church. Hair slicked back. Suit perfect and pressed. And for a split second, it wasn't Liam she saw staring back at her.

It was Angel.

Watching her.

Those eyes.

Judging her.

Faith swallowed thickly, shook it off and as she got closer the differences became enough to fight the bile in her throat. The light had made his skin look pale, but close up and she could see the tan. The freckles. The light dusting of pink on his cheeks came from being dressed up – feeling like he didn't belong. She felt the same. Liam's boyish grin as she stepped up before the altar. Faith grabbed his hand. She needed to feel his warmth.

"You alright?" He whispered to her as the priest was addressing the congregation, Faith nodded quickly to reassure him, but she wasn't. She wasn't at all. This wasn't her. This wasn't him. Why were they doing this? Why were they still here? All she wanted to do was run. Run from the danger. Run from the guilt that was eating away at her insides.

You don't belong here.

You can't just leave them.

She closed her eyes and willed the voices in her head to shut up.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, we are gathered here, on this lovely winters morning to celebrate the giving of Faye Bennet to Liam Cabhraigh." Liam was staring at her warmly, vibrant eyes glittering with excitement, with life, with love. Faith wanted to be sick. When the priest addressed her, she almost missed it, she couldn't turn away from Liam and she stared at him with a burning intensity that she hoped would convey what she needed. 'Look at me. Look at me or I'll run. Look at me or I'll drown.'

"Repeat after me; By the power that Christ brought from heaven, mayst thou love me. As the sun follows its course, mayst thou follow me. As the light to the eye, as the bread to the hungry, as joy to the heart, may thy presence be with me. Oh, one that I love, 'til death comes to part us asunder."

Faith wished it was only death that was trying to pull them apart. If that was their biggest fear, then she might actually be able to breathe. She repeated the words hollowly, focusing on Liam's eyes. The wedding, the everything, it was wrong. Her name. Even the words.

If she left, he couldn't follow her.

And if he died, then she would have to destroy him. Or let him destroy her.

Which of them would prevail? She had been so convinced that she could save him. But standing here in this monument to a higher power, she wondered if she had a say.

What if she was wrong?

Liam had a future, a purpose, some might say her was divinely chosen. There were prophecies about him. She was the one without one. Was she staying with him for no other purpose than to die?

It was the first time she'd accepted that she might fail.

Hearing the words from Liam's mouth almost made her cry. Not because of the intent or the patronising, mainstream sentiments, but because for the first time she realised that she couldn't stay.

Not when there was a way out.

She'd worked too hard to change herself.

The world might not need Angelus, but it needed Angel. More than she needed Liam.

This wasn't about them.

It was about so much more.

Faith swayed a little where she stood, she was struggling to breathe. It felt like the walls were closing in on her and all she wanted to do was cling onto the man standing in front of her and never let go. Never have to pry herself away from his touch. Never have to live in a world where he didn't exist. It was only when she felt his warm fingers against her cheek that she realised that she was crying. Her cheeks were wet, and Liam was smirking at her. Some part of her memory insisted they'd made some childish bet as to whether or not she'd cry at the wedding – he'd insisted all women cried at weddings; she'd countered that she wasn't the crying type. He was a bastard. Faith had no idea how she was going to be strong enough to leave.

Liam slid the ring on her finger, a small silver thing, he'd told her the origins of it one night not too long ago. A Claddagh ring. Some traditional Irish wedding tradition. The small bit of metal felt warm against her skin, and she wondered how cold she must be.

"May the road rise to meet you, May the wind be always at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face, The rains fall soft upon your fields. And until we meet again, May God hold you in the palm of His hand."

The church broke into applause, but all Faith registered was Liam pulling her to him, his lips on hers. Despite everything, they were married, it was done. Faith belonged to Liam now. More importantly, deep down, in her heart of hearts, she knew she always would.

As they stood there, together, watching everybody celebrate on their behalf, Faith shook her head.

"Let's get out of here."

"What? Now? We can't just run away now!" He whispered back to her, eyebrows knitted in confusion,

"Please." Faith didn't think she'd ever heard her own voice sound so desperate before, Liam must have caught it because instead of questioning her, he nodded, tightened his grip on her hand and then pulled her off at a run down the aisle and out of the church.

Present

"Kathy?" she looked up eyes red and swollen, but at least the sobbing had stopped. In its place was a sulky resolution. "It's time." Angel was as broken at letting her go as she was about going. He'd gotten used to having her here, having a small piece of home. With all the memories surfacing he was mourning more than ever for the life he once had. Unlike Kathy though, there was some hope buried in him, Faith would be home soon and then – maybe – there was a chance for them.

The future was the future, unknown. In that moment he wanted to hold her. Not Faith. Faye. More than anything else he'd ever wanted in his life. It had been too long. He craved her with a desperation he'd never thought possible. All the anger he'd festered unintentionally over the years of her abandoning him, all of the frustration was wavering under sheer relief and excitement.

Alentaih was waiting, patiently for a child, though he surmised she wasn't really one, she hadn't spoken much and instead seemed to be watching Kathy carefully. The demon stretched out a slender, pale hand towards the girl. Kathy almost took it, but before she could Angel grabbed her and pulled her against him. Hugging her tightly. He really had missed his litter sister. He was being selfish, letting her go. This was his apology. His apology for what he would do. The only way he could express it.

"Take care." She ordered, gently. He nodded, and with that Kathy gripped Alentaih's hand.

"You come willingly?"

"I do."

And the two glittered away into thin air.

1753

They hadn't gotten too far; they'd run until Liam's legs were burning and then stopped to catch their breath. Stopping by the river just outside the city, they were hidden by trees. They weren't impossible to find but Faith assumed that few would come looking for them. The wedding breakfast was already cooked, and she imagined everybody was indulging with or without the happy couple. Free food, booze and no awkward speeches; best wedding ever.

Faith knew she should be there, should be enjoying this day, revelling in the only wedding she would ever have. But she couldn't. Spending her one and only day with her husband. Faith wished she didn't love how that sounded in her head, there was no way she was going to spend it looking prim and proper, watching her manners and indulging everybody else's curiosity.

Her one and only day as Mrs Cabhraigh.

There was that suffocating feeling again like she was drowning.

"What's wrong?"

Faith couldn't breathe. Clawing at the corset of her dress, Liam was quick to catch on and rushed over to help her out. Faith didn't want his gentle help though and helped him. The stitches ripping against the stress. When it was open, she gasped for breath, Liam's hands firmly on her shoulders. "You're scaring me. Faye…"

"Call me Faith," she begged, "please?" His eyes narrowed. "I don't like—all the attention" it was half-true at least. He nodded gently, before kissing the top of her head.

"Faith?" He spoke against the top of her head, "a new name for a new adventure. I like it." Her name on his lips broke her head afresh. "We'll be off on our adventures at mornin' light, just me and you."

Faith couldn't speak. There was nothing to say. He was right. They could still run. Stick to the plan. Cling to happiness. His clothes were the next victim of her hands, kissing him with all the needy desperation of a drowning person gasping for breath.

The newlyweds spent their wedding day alone, making love on the slowly thawing grass.

When dusk fell, Faith was silently crying. Nestled in a cocoon of the shreds of her now grass-stained and muddy wedding dress. It was Liam's shirt she grabbed to put on. She looked down at her sleeping husband, he was peaceful, not a care in the world. It was all she could do to keep her sobs silent as she fastened the buttons. The shirt came down to the middle of her thigh, hardly lady-like and proper but she didn't care.

This was the last time she'd watch the slow, steady rise and fall of his chest. The last time she'd hear his gentle snoring. All her love and peace would forever stay in this moment. Locked in time. Forgotten.

She didn't kiss him goodbye. She was afraid he'd wake up and then she'd lose the last shred of strength she had to walk away. Faith couldn't dwell on the confusion he'd feel when he woke up. Couldn't worry about how many questions he'd have. How much he'd hate her. It couldn't be more than she hated herself.

The world or Liam.

Faith couldn't believe she was choosing the world.

One thing she knew though was that there could be no doubt, no wondering in his mind whether she'd return. With every molecule of her body screaming, Faith slid the silver ring off her finger and dropped it into one of his shoes. He couldn't spend his next few centuries blaming anybody but her.

Her feet felt leaden as she walked back to the house.

Opening the door quietly, she was surprised to find the house empty. She'd thought Thomas would at least be waiting for her. Walking to his study she didn't knock. Didn't worry about her state of undress. She didn't worry about anything. Thomas was resting against his desk, there was a girl she'd never met sitting in the chair opposite where she herself had sat so many times before.

Kathy then.

"So, you're my new sister?" Kathy said, in perfect English, she'd been crying. Faith didn't answer, couldn't.

"Faith." His tone was abrupt. Faith shook her head and was about to tell him to go stick his deal when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Tensed to fight, she came face to face with a child. Looking down, somewhat disorientated by the matching height, she felt her stomach lurch when she saw the girl's feet floating off the floor.

"Do you come willingly?" She offered Faith her hand. Delicate and ethereal.

"Let's just get this over with before I change my mind."

Faith took the demon's hand.