YELLOW BRICK ROAD
By: Lisette (lisette@chaletian.co.uk)
Rating: PG-13 so far - might change later on.
Distribution: Want, take, have. Just e-mail me first.
Summary: Faith is released from prison - but there's a catch.
Feedback: God, please.
Angel, Buffy, the whole lot, belong to JW, Mutant Enemy, and anyone else who officially owns them. I don't. Big surprise.
Okay, a few notes. Firstly, I haven't seen any of season 3 yet, though I know vaguely what happens. So, definitely after "Billy", and Fred and Gunn are getting with the happy, but "WITW" never happened.
Please, please review - I need to know what people think! I have a fragile ego and it needs bolstering! Thanks to everyone who has already reviewed - you have made me a happy person!
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Chapter Eleven - Please Don't Make Me Hurt You
The motel was dank and depressing in the dark, but Faith paid no attention as she looked around, a worried expression creasing her features. The afternoon seemed to have gone well enough. She had bitched away, and that had been easy enough, especially given how nervous she felt - insecurity was definitely the best thing for bringing out sarcasm - and Lilah seemed to have believed her. She had spun a derisive story of how pathetically easy Angel had been to fool; how he had talked her into giving herself up to the police once, and seemed eager to do it again. And how she had killed him; buried a stake - slowly - into his heart, laughing to his face.
And that was all well and good, and following the plan, but now there was one of Wolfram & Hart's goons outside, standing next to a limo, waiting for her to pack her bags and go with him. It made sense: Lilah wanted to keep an eye on her investment; didn't want Faith to go AWOL. But Faith found herself anxious - if Wolfram & Hart took her off, how would Wesley find her again - how would she manage to get to him if anything happened?
A scuffle outside, and she was instantly on guard, reaching for the knife that she had hidden at the bottom of her bag. The door burst open to reveal…Wesley? She looked at him in shock, then pushed past to look outside. She had an instant to catch sight of the goon, lying face down on the tarmac, clearly out for the count, before a violent shove had her spinning inside, and Wesley slammed the door shut behind her.
"You little bitch! Did you think I would let you get away with it?" She gazed at him in confusion, then took a step back as he advanced on her, a dangerous gleam in his eyes. Another step, and then he grabbed her arms, shook her, and pressed his cheek against hers. Faith had a moment to register the feel of his stubble against her face and then she heard the murmured words, "There'll be a bug. Hit me." She pulled back in horror, shaking her head violently, but before she could move, he swung at her, punching her hard in the face. She reacted, unthinkingly, pushing him away, then kicking out so that he landed on the floor.
Wesley grunted with the impact of her foot in his midsection, but she hadn't kicked him hard enough to knock him out, and he stood, looking at her with loathing. This was the hardest part, and he knew it. Wolfram & Hart would expect someone to try and hit back at Faith; they knew what Angel meant to the people around him, and, had Faith really killed him, there was no way that death would go unavenged. The trick would be to get Faith to beat him up enough to look like she meant it, but not enough for either him to get seriously hurt, or for her to lose control. She was backed into a corner now, staring at him, her expression almost blank. He advanced, and punched her in the stomach. She gasped, bent over, but when she straightened she made no move to hit back, and the blank expression was still on her face. He raised his hand to hit her again, hoping to prompt a reaction, then froze as he saw her flinch.
"Damn," he swore softly, lowering his arm, looking away in shame. He came closer, ignoring her fast breathing and scared eyes. He stood close, pressed against her, shielding her from any cameras that Wolfram & Hart might have planted. His hands were on her shoulders, but gentle, not violent.
"Faith, they have to see this. You have to make it real. Preferably without hurting me too much," and a wry note entered his voice.
"Please don't make me hurt you again," she whispered back, and Wesley could feel the tremors running through her body, and damned himself for putting her in this position so soon.
"Listen to me, Faith. All this violence - it's a part of you. And that's not evil, not in itself. You have to learn to control it."
"You don't understand - what it's like."
"I understand what it's like to have a part of you that you don't want to admit exists, a part that you're ashamed of, and want to pretend isn't there. I understand what it's like to do something and feel wracked with guilt about afterwards."
"You don't-"
"I know what it's like to hurt someone."