The giant fireball of orange flame shoots upward from the hollowed out structure of the bank like a huge roman candle. I watch it curl into the sky from my spot on the street, flat on my back with a few pebbles digging into my spine. My head is spinning from the force of the blast and the light show. It rains ashes, scorched deposit slips, and shards of bullet proof glass. A few pieces stick into my leg and I have to bit my lip when I pull them out. I turn on my hands an knees and crawl back to my car.

Tyler said I haven't seen anything yet.

Now I don't think I like what I've seen.

Fighting is one thing.

Arson is another.

I don't remember signing up for the future arsonists of America. I speed home carefully avoiding the parade of firetrucks and cop cars. I'm woozy as hell when I walk up the drive. My head is spinning and my legs feel like rubber. I get to the steps and I collapse. I think I heard Tyler walking around but I couldn't be sure.

Was I asleep?

Had I been sleeping?

I don't know how long I was laying there before coming to. I was groggy and walking still felt like the ground was made of jell-o. Preferably cherry. I walk in to the kitchen with the speed of a tortoise. Tyler's pots and pans and all his other soap making materials are gone. No freezer full of fat. No tallow containers. No glycerin. I run as fast as I can down to the basement and all the tubs are wiped clean. No sawdust is on the ground. The house is empty.

I rush up the stairs to Tyler's room and his door is closed again. For a split second I think he's in there fucking Faith because that's the only reason his door's ever closed. There is no moaning and screeching like banshee's behind the door. I know they're not here. Tyler's room is a slew of papers. Blueprints and maps and supply lists. He has nearly every building in Sunnydale here. I shift through some of the pile before I noticed the big blueprint tacked to the wall.

City hall.

For a second I can't breathe.

For two seconds I can't move.

He was going to blow up city hall.

I go to tear the paper off the wall and suddenly Tyler's there. Fast as a magic tick.

Tyler what the fuck is going on?

"What are you doing?" he asks.

Stopping you, I say. You can't do this. This isn't right.

"Don't give that crap about right and wrong," Tyler says. "Who decides what right and what's wrong anyway? The government? God? I'm doing what I think is right. Think about it man. You do what you want, where you want, when you want. Freedom. Its all everyone ever really wants. It's what I intend to give."

Why does freedom include killing people?

"I'm not killing anybody," Tyler says. "It's three o'clock in the morning. Who do you know that hangs out in a government building at three o'clock in the morning? It's empty."

No, I say. The bank was bad enough. Not this.

"Always the moral crusader," Tyler says.

I take the blueprint of the wall and roll it up. I'm going to stop you, I say and start to run out. Tyler's hand on my shoulder stops me.

"Faith saw the file on the bank," he says. "She knows too much about our operation. We might want to discuss how this is going to affect our goals."

You left that damn file at her house, I tell him. If she blows the whistle on you it'll be your own damn fault.

"Us," Tyler says. "She'll blow the whistle on both of us."

What the fuck does that mean?

"You live here, you know what I did with the materials. You knew about the bank."

I tried to stop you, I say.

"What jury's going to believe that?" Tyler says. "She'll talk, what are we going to do about it?"

Nothing, I say. It's your fault she kept coming around anyway.

"We have to do something," Tyler says. "It's the way things have to be."

There are footsteps downstairs and poof, Tyler's gone. I look around for a minute trying to see where the hell he went. He's just gone. I find a discarded piece of paper and write a note to Faith. I warn her of Tyler's intentions. I tell her to get out of town. Somewhere safe. She doesn't know what he's capable of. Please I ask her. Do this with out any questions. I sign my name and run downstairs. Faith is there, standing in the middle of the floor, twirling her hair and smiling at me.

"Hey," she says. "You look like shit."

Thanks, I say. I hand her the note. Don't read this until I'm gone I say. Tyler's going crazy and I don't know if he's still here.

"What?" she says.

Please, I ask. Just do as I say this one time. Please. She looks at me like I've lost my mind. Maybe I have. I don't have time to think about that right now. I have to stop Tyler. She's still looking at me funny.

"I don't know why you ever wanted to be called that name," she says.

Great. Two "what the fuck does that mean" situations in the time-span of ten minutes. That can't be good. I have no time. I have to go, I tell her. Don't read the note until I'm gone. She's shouting at me as I run away but I can't hear what. I get in my car and floor it to City Hall. All the cops and firemen are still at the bank I guess, so once again I don't worry about my speeding.

I pull up in front of city hall about ten minutes later and Tyler is there standing on the steps. I run up to him. He doesn't look happy.

"You broke your promise," He says. "You fucking talked about me."

You were going to hurt her, I say.

"I ask you one thing. One simple thing."

I ask him where the bomb is. He gets madder by the second.

"You can't stop it," Tyler says. "You can't play the hero here. Not today, not any day."

Where is the bomb? I ask.

Tyler screams like Bruce Lee and jump-kicks me square in the jaw. I punch him in the ribs but he tackles me and keeps punching and punching till I see stars. My eyes close and my body feels as heavy as a rock. Tyler elbows be across the temple and I can't see anything anymore.

***

I think that's right about where I left off. I woke up on top of this parking garage with a knife to my throat and a gun to the back of my head.

Tyler moves the gun again and walks a few paces away.

"You know what worries me?" Tyler asks. "It isn't politics. It isn't the threat of nuclear war. What worries me Xander, is the internet generation. Commercials for medicine that has more side affects than cures. Television with 500 channels and never anything good on. Movie stars telling me how to look and act. Pop music and a fucking Starbucks on every corner."

I think I'm starting to get tired of Tyler's little speeches. He blah, blah, blahs, makes soap, and blows stuff up. That's all I've ever really seen him do. I don't tell him this of course. He's still got the gun. His temper is still flaring.

Those things don't matter in the wider spectrum of things, I say.

"You would think that wouldn't you?" Tyler says. "You haven't been listening to a damn thing I've been trying to teach you."

I was never a good student, I say.

Tyler laughs. I rest my hands on the concrete edge of the garage and wonder how many minutes until boom time.

"Five minutes and counting," Tyler says practically reading my mind.

I sit there watching him with the gun and knife, eagerly awaiting the mayhem. He's the kid counting down the minutes till Christmas morning. His stocking stuffer is the anarchist's cookbook. I just sit there. In reality I'm actually kind of bored. I've already seen one explosion tonight. What's the big deal about another? I almost ask Tyler for a cigarette even though I don't smoke. I figure it might pass the time or something.

Enter the unexplained plot twist.

I hear her before I see her. The sound of her boots stomping up the concrete stairwell and a few curses to herself. I don't know how she ever found me. As soon as she's in sight Tyler disappears again. I don't know how he does it. Faith marches right over to me, my letter in hand. She looks pissed.

"What the fuck is this?" she yells at me waving the letter in my face. "Is this your idea of a joke?"

Joke?

"This crap about Tyler wanting to hurt me!" she roars. "You think this is funny?"

I'm not laughing.

"God you're even more fucked up than I thought."

What do you mean?

"Could you put those down?" she asks pointing at my hands. "They aren't making me feel any better."

What?

"The knife and gun," she says in a 'duh' kind of way.

Tyler has the knife and gun, I say.

"There you go again," she says rolling her eyes.

Ladies and gentlemen this is your captain speaking.

"Look at your hands," she says.

I look down to my hands. I see Tyler's gun and Tyler's knife in them. Surprise doesn't begin to cover it. These are Tyler's, I say.

"No shit Sherlock."

What does that mean?

"You," she says pointing a finger into my chest.

Please fasten seatbelts and make sure all trays are in their upright and locked positions.

"Are Tyler-shit-for-brains-fucking-Durden," she says.

We have just lost cabin pressure.

No, I say.

"Yes," she says.

This can't be happening.

"You came back into the bar that night," she says.

I went home I say.

"You came back into that bar," she repeats. "Looking all beat up and gorgeous. You told me to call you Tyler Durden."

No.

"You said I looked like a gal that knew how to live."

Stop it.

"You wanted to play. We played. God you were good. Better than ever before."

Shut up.

"Why do you think I kept coming around huh? I'd have to have been as crazy as you for putting up with all that crap if I wasn't getting anything in return. You're such the moody morning person," she says. "You have serious emotional problems."

Shut up!

Faith never sees my fist flying toward her. I've never hit a girl in my life. I feel a little bad about it. She hits the ground with a thump. In the blink of an eye Tyler is back.

Why does Faith think I'm you? I ask.

"You broke your promise again," he says lifting the gun to me.

It doesn't scare me this time. The gun isn't in your hand, I say. The gun is in my hand.

Tyler looks down and the gun and knife aren't there anymore. I lift my hands to let him see.

"So what," Tyler says. "So now you know. Doesn't change anything."

Know what?

"It's always so damn hard for you realize this shit man," He says. "Why in the world would anyone ever confuse you with me? You know why. So just fucking say it."

Because...

"Go on."

Because we're the same person.

"That's my boy," he says.

But, but you know all that stuff about dynamite and soap, I say.

"Technically, you know all that stuff about dynamite and soap," Tyler says.

You have the mansion.

"You found that mansion on one of your little creature-of-the-night hunting trips," Tyler says. "No one goes there. No relators can sell it."

Faith, you're fucking Faith.

"You're fucking Faith my friend," he says. "Some habits die hard."

No.

"Yes."

I didn't want this, I say.

"Oh don't give me that bullshit," Tyler says. "You wanted to change your life. Donut boy couldn't do that on his own. So you invented me. I can do everything you want to do, I can be anyone you want to be, I am smart, capable, and don't let little things like conscious slow me down."

This can't be happening.

"Open you're fucking eyes Xander," he yells. "It's real, I'm real. There isn't anything you can do or say that can stop me now."

I look at the gun in my hand. Faith stirs on the ground, but Tyler is still there. I tell him again that I didn't want this.

"Yes you did," he says. "I wouldn't be here if this isn't what you wanted. Now come on and give me gun man. You don't want to do anything crazy now."

Listen to me Tyler, I say. He stops talking and smirks at me. I put the gun to my head. His smirk grows wider. If I die you die, I say.

"I don't think so," he says moving toward me.

I take the gun from my head and point it at him. I pull the trigger and nothing happens. The bullet just whizzes right through him. He's running at me, he intends to beat the tar out of me. I keep firing and the bullets keep flying. He's only a foot away. I close my eyes and wait for the punch but it never comes.

Faith lifts her moans from the ground and I open my eyes. Tyler's gone.

"You fucking asshole!" she yells.

I tell her I'm sorry. She tells me to go to hell. Listen to me, I say.

"What?" she says impatiently.

I have to stop Tyler.

"But you're Tyler."

I know. I put the gun to my head and pull the trigger.

Click.

Great.

Faith is sitting there looking at me with wide eyes. She's looks at my note and then at me.

"Why did you try to save me?" she asks.

I step up onto the banister of the parking garage. I stare down at the ground, twirling and looming below. I look back to her. I don't know, I say. I think I might like you.

"Then, then stay," she says. "I know the difference now. Tyler was just a fuck. I think I like you too."

Thank you, I tell her. But I have to end this. Tyler is still here. I don't think he's ever going to go away.

"How are you going to end it?" she asks.

The only way I can, I say. I smile at her. She smiles back.

And I jump.