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 Fifteen - Goodbye, Little Dream
Wesley lay on the sofa, head nestled on "Aunts Aren't Gentlemen", one leg dangling over the side. He was, as his snores attested to, fast asleep. The flat was silent; all that could be heard was the traffic outside and the faint whirr of the refrigerator in the kitchen. There was a movement in the corner of the room, and Faith left the bedroom. She approached the sofa, cautiously, cat-like. She raised her hand, and glinting in the moonlight that streamed through the half-open curtains, was the knife she kept in the bottom of her bag. She looked at the sleeping man, then, raising her arm high, brought the knife plunging down, sinking it into the warm flesh lying there.
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Wesley shot upwards, jerking awake in reaction to the noise, momentarily disoriented as he looked around. Comprehension swiftly followed, and he leapt up, neatly avoiding tripping over a pile of books by the side of the sofa. Running his hand over his face, he ran into the bedroom, where Faith was asleep. Asleep and, from the sound of it, having one heck of a nightmare.
"Faith! Faith, wake up!" His words had no effect on the sleeping woman, and Wesley sat on the edge of the bed, concern evident in his eyes. He leaned over and took hold of her shoulders, wincing as one thrashing arm connected with the side of his head. He shook her lightly, calling again, "Wake up, Faith!" Her eyes shot wide open, and she looked at him in horror, stilling beneath his hands. "That's right, it's just a dream. You're safe. You're…" He got no further, as she pushed him away, her hands pulling open his shirt.
"Faith! I hardly think this is the…"
"It's not there." He looked at her curiously, catching her hands in his. She knelt there, staring at his chest, shaking slightly.
"What's not there? Faith, what is it?"
"I - I stabbed you. In the chest. There was blood -"
"It was just a dream. It wasn't real."
"Just a dream." She pulled away, sat for a moment, then reached out as if to touch him again. "No!" This time she pulled away more definitely, jumping off the bed, and walking over to the window. She stood for a moment, looking out over the street, then turned towards Wesley, sitting there on the bed.
"What kind of person am I, Wesley? I mean, I have these dreams, and they're always the same. I'm always hurting people. And I want to ignore it, and pretend they're not there, but they always are, in the back of my head, and I think it's driving me mad." She was crying, and she brushed away the tears impatiently, looking at her ex-watcher beseechingly. "Wesley, I don't know what to do anymore."
He got off the bed, walked towards her slowly, giving her time to move if she wanted to, but she didn't, and then she was in his arms, crying fit to break her heart.
"I just want it all to go away."