The Ruby Slippers
Part 8
By Gem
&
PJ
Buffy quietly let herself into the house, glancing around to check for any signs of life. The living room was already decorated for the party, but the only noises she could hear came from upstairs. With a tiny sigh she climbed the stairs, carefully bypassing her old bedroom en route to Dawn's room.
"Hey," Buffy called softly from the doorway, "are you almost ready to go? The ceremony is supposed to start in," she glanced down at her wrist, "less than a half an hour."
Dawn turned around from her mirror and grinned as she laid her hairbrush down on the nightstand and clicked off the radio. "I've been ready for ages. Mom is the one who can't decide what speed film to bring, or how many rolls."
Buffy groaned as she checked her watch once more. "I know she's all excited because 'her baby' is graduating high school, but if she doesn't get a move on we won't have anything to take pictures of."
"I think she's just trying to make up for all the stuff she didn't get to do when you graduated. I mean she tried when you finished college, but it wasn't the same."
"Sure wasn't. No explosives, no giant demon snakes, no arson charges filed." Buffy shrugged and tried not to look too hard at the other things that had been missing from her college graduation. Involuntarily her hand rose to cover the old scar on her throat.
Some wounds never heal; no matter how much time they are given.
Dawn toyed nervously with the discarded brush, searching for a tactful way to bring up a touchy subject. "Umm are you going to stay over tonight, after the party? I know Mom has your room all made up, just in case."
"You mean Mom hasn't unmade my room since the day I left," Buffy corrected her. She shivered slightly at the thought of staying in the mausoleum that her old room had become. "No, I think I'll just head back to the apartment. It's not like it's a long drive or anything. Why would she think I'd need to stay?"
"I think she just kind of hoped." Dawn offered a hesitant smile. "Sometimes it seems like you avoid her, or us, or maybe it's just the house. You left so suddenly, and you never said why, but ever since then you act like you have to be dragged in here. I think it hurts her feelings."
"I was in college, Dawn. I went back to the dorms." Buffy's temper was beginning to fray; this was an old debate and one she was tired of revisiting. "I only left them because Mom was sick, and then she got better."
"But you didn't even wait until they were open," Dawn protested. "I went to a sleep-over one night and when I came back the next morning you were tossing stuff in Giles' car and moving in with Xander and Anya until fall semester began. And then when you graduated, you never came back at all; you moved right into an apartment."
"That's what people do. They move out, move on. Jeeze; everyone kept telling me to 'move on' back then, and when I did they got mad about that too." She instantly regretted her harsh tone; she knew Dawn was only trying to help.
"It seems more like you moved away."
Buffy was deluged by a wave of guilt when she heard the lost note in her sister's voice. She had stayed in Sunnydale to protect Dawn, and she had done that well, but surely there was more to being an older sister than just making sure the younger sibling didn't die a horrible death. In some ways it made being the Slayer look easy in comparison.
"Dawn, I'm sorry if you think I don't want to be around you, or Mom." Impulsively she hugged her younger sister. "I need space, though; maybe more than most people. And part of that space means not staying here, with a lot of old memories. I have enough of them in my head already."
It wasn't the complete truth, but it was a truth that Dawn could understand. Buffy could never hope to explain the appalling emptiness her old room held for her now. Some days she thought she would be buried under the weight of her memories, of all that had been, or could have been, and yet she clung to them as a way to keep the past, and Angel, alive.
It wasn't the memories that drove her from that room, this house, three years ago; it was the certainty that there would never be any more. And it was that knowledge that kept her from ever going back.
"I'm sorry I made you sad," Dawn murmured, digging her chin into Buffy's shoulder.
Buffy pulled back slightly and reached out to gently tug one long brown strand of Dawn's hair. "Nope," she said firmly, "my bad. This is your day and we should be celebrating, not getting all weepy." She forced a small smile, resolutely banishing the ghosts to their customary corner of her mind.
"It all seems so weird, you know." Dawn turned back to her mirror for a final make-up check. "You're gone, I'm going away. Everything is changing so fast."
Joyce bustled into the room, camera in hand, before Buffy could reply. "So, are you two finally ready?" she asked brightly. "We need to hustle or we'll be late."
"And some things will never change," Buffy added, nodding slightly at Joyce. Her smile was genuine this time as she and Dawn shared a giggle at their unwitting mother's expense.
* * * * *
"That was the most beautiful ceremony, don't you think?" Joyce asked over her shoulder as she placed her key in the lock on the front door.
Xander shrugged and draped his arm around Anya's waist. "Considering what I have to compare it to, it's not really fair for me to say. It was definitely quieter than experience has led me to expect from a graduation."
Anya leaned gratefully into his side, worn out from a long day and the 30 extra pounds she was carrying courtesy of Xander Jr. "Someday our offspring will graduate from that school. I hope they can afford to put cushions on the wooden benches by then."
"They're called bleachers, hon, and they're not supposed to be padded."
"Well, trust me, it was the..." Joyce's voice trailed off as she looked down at the key turning freely in the lock. "Funny, I could have sworn I remembered to lock the door." She pushed the door open, but before she could enter Buffy brushed past her and stood in the open doorway.
"Mom, let me go in first." Buffy stepped cautiously into the foyer, and then stopped dead when she realized the identity of their housebreakers. "Cordy, Wes, what are you doing here?"
Cordelia rose wearily from the hall chair and tossed the magazine she had been reading onto the writing desk. "Well, I always like to go to Paris in the spring, but Gunn thought it was too touristy so we compromised on Sunnydale instead."
Wesley glanced apprehensively at Cordelia; she was under a greater strain than she would ever admit, and it was starting to show around the edges.
"Cordelia has had a vision. A very bad one, I'm afraid."
Gunn strolled out of the kitchen, a glass of water in his hand. "Yeah, she's been popping pain pills like M&Ms since she stopped screaming."
Buffy hurried over to Cordelia, gently pulling her into the living room and settling her on the couch. The rest of the Scoobies trailed in after them, followed by Wesley and Gunn.
"Are you okay, Cor?" Buffy hovered anxiously over Cordelia as the dark- haired woman swallowed three more pills along with water from the glass Gunn proffered.
Cordelia rubbed her hand across her forehead and offered a weak smile. "I've been better. This one was a real lu-lu. I haven't felt anything like it since Vocah did that allemande left in the street market and gave me the psychic cooties."
Buffy dimly sensed her friends and family settling in for story hour, but the majority of her attention was focused on Cordelia. However much she had tried to protect Angel's friends over the years, she was unable to shield Cordelia from the visions that plagued her even after Angel's death, and those visions always led the trio into trouble. She could only be grateful that this time they had called her for help before it got too bad.
"So what's the deal? Do we have demons commuting from LA, or are we expecting a sudden increase in the permanent population?" Xander rubbed his hands and tried not to look too eager. He had missed the camaraderie of patrols, if not the actual danger, and he sensed a good old-fashioned group hunt in the offing.
Cordelia glanced quickly at Wesley and Gunn, silently questioning who among them would be the spokesperson. After a brief struggle of wills, Wesley was elected.
The Englishman nervously cleared his throat. "I'm afraid it's rather more than a demonic infestation this time. It appears the hellmouth is not quite so closed as you believed, and it is about to become active once again." He paused for a moment, wishing he had any new but this to deliver. "You see it's finally begun, after all these years. The End of Days."
"The end of what?" Joyce asked. She was puzzled by the sudden chilly silence that enveloped the room, drawing even Dawn into its depths. Joyce alone was the outsider, again.
"Armageddon, Mom," Buffy answered quietly. She looked over at Wesley, hoping he would tell her that there was a chance it was a mistake. "Have there been signs, or are we just going on the word of Vision Girl?" She cocked a half-smile at Cordelia to show she wasn't trying to offend.
"Oh, there have been signs, B. What else would you call me being back in Sunnydale?" called a voice from the hallway.
* * * * *
Faith strolled into the Summers living room, trying to project some of her trademark self-confidence with a swagger and a smirk. The effect was somewhat spoiled, however, by her eyes, which darted nervously from one hostile face to another.
"Still hanging with the same old crowd, I see." She nodded politely to each in turn as she strolled past. "All for one and one for all. Nice to see some things don't change."
"Who let her out?" Willow demanded indignantly. Her moment of bravado faded quickly under the heat of Faith's gaze. The witch shrank back against her seat cushion, as she mumbled, "No offense."
"None taken," Faith replied calmly. She completed her circuit of the living room and joined Wesley and Gunn in the archway.
"You'll have to forgive us Faith; this is kind of a surprise," Buffy said with the barest trace of anger in her tone. "I think I can guess why you're here, but 'how' would be a good place to pick up the story." She glanced sharply at Wesley. "Did you break her out? Or did she break herself out?"
"I beg your..."
Faith laid a hand on the sputtering Wesley's arm. "Down boy. I'll defend your honor." She raised an eyebrow at Buffy, a hint of the old Faith in her mocking smile. "Get real. Can you honestly picture Huey, Duey and Louise here staging the big prison break scene? Of course I'm kind of flattered you think I could go over the wall myself, but it didn't turn out to be necessary. I'm here all nice and legal, with the apologies of the state of California no less."
"Now I know the world is coming to an end," Xander said in amazement.
"How? And when?" Buffy leaned back on the sofa and crossed her arms over her chest, preparing for a long, but hopefully truthful story.
"Three months ago," Faith answered swiftly. "As for how, well, Wes can explain it better than me."
"Three months? And no one told me?"
"Well some of us thought you might go a little postal about it; can't imagine how that idea ever crossed anyone's mind." Cordelia regretted her sarcastic tone a moment later when she realized the underlying fear supporting Buffy's anger. "Hey, we knew she was safe, but we also knew you'd worry. You do enough of that, so we figured we'd handle this one."
"You couldn't be sure it was safe," Buffy insisted. "You put yourselves in danger for no reason."
"No, it was for a very good reason, and you know what, or should I say 'who,' it was." Cordelia winced as the escalating tones brought a renewed throb of pain in her skull. She rubbed her temples fretfully, trying to force her overactive nerve endings to cease hostilities. "We figured he'd want us to watch out for her."
"It was still most irresponsible of you," Giles said sternly, gazing narrowly at Wesley. "I would have credited you with better sense."
"Oh, you mean like the last time she got off your radar and your dialing finger couldn't quite reach the phone to let us know? Or was that a way of directing a different finger at Angel?"
"Cordelia, please," Wesley begged. "These are old issues. Today, of all days, we need to focus on the future, and making sure such a thing exists."
"There was no malice intended," Giles protested. "Things happened so fast..."
"Look, what I did, I did and no one else," Faith said abruptly, "so enough with the blame count here. As far as me getting sprung, they didn't tell you because I asked them not to, and I made myself scarce when you came to visit." She glanced at each of her new partners, her gaze lingering on Gunn for a moment before she completed her thought. "This was really important to me. I wanted to make sure it, you know, took, before I let the world know."
"It came about so unexpectedly, you see. It took us quite by surprise," Wesley apologetically. "During the course of yet another investigation of Wolfram and Hart's legal practices..."
Buffy groaned, earning her not only a sour look from Wesley, but also from Cordelia when storytelling was resumed at a higher decibel to discourage further interruption.
"...We accidentally came across some rather interesting, and damaging information." Wesley paused for a moment, but when he sensed he had made his point, he moderated his tone. "It seems they had several judges and assistant district attorneys on the payroll, including those assigned to Faith's trial. It was really quite scandalous. The idea that the law firm is not only willing to represent the dregs of society but would actually subvert the legal..."
"Focus, Wesley." Cordelia's sigh had the sound of practice.
He cleared his throat and began again, after subjecting his martyred partner to an icy glare. "When the facts about the corruption were made public, the verdicts in the cases involved were overturned, rather than put the state to the enormous financial burden of declaring mistrials and beginning again. The people sentenced in those cases were set free; Faith included."
"They were afraid she would sue; can you believe it?" Cordelia shook her head. "She offed a guy, confessed, and still got set free because the state was afraid she'd sue for wrongful imprisonment or something." She smiled half-heartedly at Faith. "No offense."
"And again, none taken." Faith smiled back at Cordelia with equal sincerity. "When I got out I looked up the gang here and decided to try a little honest work for a change." She looked down at her hands for a moment as all traces of levity vanished. "Someone convinced me once that strength isn't just a gift, it's a responsibility, and I should be flattered that I was trusted with it. I decided to try things his way for awhile." An expression of genuine surprise crossed her face. "So far, it's been working out okay."
"Give or take a little apocalypse," Cordelia snapped. "Hello! Can we get back to my bone-crushing migraine and the end of the world, among other things?"
"Hey, that's why I'm here." Faith leaned ever so slightly against Gunn, and no one but Buffy spotted his arm move behind her back to hold her there. "I didn't have anything better on my calendar, so I thought I'd swing by the old burg, say my hellos and help prevent apocalypse number...what one are we up to again?" She looked around the room for an answer.
"Oh, who counts them anymore?" Xander impatiently waved away the question. "What I want to know is if all those stories I've seen on TV about women's prisons are true."
"Xander, shut up." Buffy's tone was pleasant, but with enough underlying steel to close Xander's mouth with an audible snap. "So who are the demons trying to open up Mount St. Hellmouth and how do we stop them?"
"That's the trouble." Wesley grimaced as he tried to think of a positive spin he could put on his news. "This isn't a situation like before where an outside source is trying to open it and harvest its power. We are talking about a true apocalypse; the demons from within are breaking free. The boundaries between dimensions are about to collapse." He waved his finger in the air, trying to rally the troops as he delivered his sole piece of good news. "But we knew this day was coming, and we have been researching for years in preparation. Cordelia's vision, jumbled as it was..."
"Oh, that's gratitude for you," the seer in question snapped.
"...provided sufficient detail, I was about to add," Wesley said in an injured tone. "As a result, I believe we have a spell to shore up the boundaries, and perhaps just enough time to use it." He paused. "Perhaps."
"So all we need to do a little spiritual spackling and then everybody stays in their own neighborhood?" Willow asked hopefully.
"Yes, well, it's a bit more complex than that. Apparently the spell produces some sort of energy, a tremendous amount if the writings of Belzarus the Elder are to be believed. But the energy must be generated from within."
"See, that's the fun part," Faith grinned with genuine pleasure. It was good to feel useful again, especially if it allowed for a little literal hell-raising. "That incantation Wes thinks will do the trick, it has to be taken orally." Seeing the blank look on Willow's face, among others, she elaborated. "We have to let the hellmouth open first, get down inside of it to sing the lullaby and then get out before the incantation actually shuts it down for a long winter's nap."
"If that actually closes it," Buffy pointed out with a sigh. "I can't believe this is happening today, of all days." She waved her hand at all the 'Congratulations Graduate' banners and balloons taped to the walls. "Figure the odds."
"Something about this town and graduations," Faith agreed. "Speaking of, Dawn, like the signs say: congrats. Guess all that time you spent studying while big sis was out slaying paid off." She smiled genially at the younger girl, knowing that Dawn knew her even if in Faith's reality they had never met before. "Sorry we missed the ceremony, but hey, at least we made it for the party."
"Thanks," Dawn replied uneasily. "It was nice you could come...I think."
Buffy shared a puzzled glance with her mother and Giles. Obviously, the LA branch of the Scoobies had briefed Faith on Dawn's true identity; they were the only other people to know the secret. Removed as they were from Dawn's day-to-day life, and never having received a memory remodeling the way the Sunnydale team had, there seemed little risk they would let something slip.
But now, strangely enough, it seemed Faith was also willing to be a part of the well-intentioned conspiracy of silence. Somehow this came as more of a surprise than the threat of Armageddon.
Joyce dealt with her confusion and fear in the manner that had served her so well as the mother of the Chosen One: denial. As far as she was concerned, and until official notice otherwise, today was nothing more than an ordinary tribal rite-of-passage day...with cake, as Anya would be quick to point out.
"Well, I'll start calling the guests to tell them not to come, but since this is the only high-school graduation Dawn is ever going to have, what do you say we make a dent in the cake and ice cream while you figure out how to save the world?"
Some were born to save the world, and some were born to make sure they did it on a full stomach.
"You know I'm always good for a..." Xander began, taking a step towards the overburdened coffee table, covered to the edges with a tempting variety of party foods.
"We have work to do," Giles abruptly interrupted him.
Buffy stood up quickly and clapped her hands together briskly. "Right. I have an arsenal to put together and an incantation to learn, and you all have packing to do. I want to see the last set of taillights on an LA- bound car by five o'clock."
* * * * *
"No; absolutely not. I am not leaving." Giles was growing weary of uttering the same phrase over and over, but he was beginning to believe Buffy must have a hearing disorder. No matter how often he repeated himself, she was just not getting the message.
"None of us are going," Cordelia said indignantly. "If we wanted to sit this one out we would have called you with the stats. We're here to be a part of the fight."
"We all want to be a part of this, and you need us beside you." Giles took off his glasses and ran his hand through his hair, a sure sign of deep perturbation. "You have stayed here in Sunnydale, against your own wishes, because a day like this might come. Now that it has, do you truly believe we would let you face it on your own?"
"This is crazy," Buffy said flatly. "If Faith wants to stay, that's okay. She's a slayer and this is part of the deal. Besides, she's had longer to learn the incantation, so she can bore the hellmouth into sleepy-time while I wail on the demons inside it with some nice sharp toys. But the rest of you are going back to LA. Now."
"Buffy, we don't have time for this. There are too many preparations to be made, and you can't handle them all by yourself." Wesley took a few steps closer to Buffy and dropped his voice. "I realize why you want us all to leave, particularly Gunn, Cordelia and myself. It hasn't escaped our attention the care you have shown us the past few years, or the reasons for it." He rested his hand on her shoulder and looked deeply into her troubled hazel eyes. "But he would know our place is here, beside you. As much as you want to protect us for his sake, we want to do the same for you. You must let us."
"But if you don't go back no one else will either," she snarled, pulling away from his placating gesture. "Is it too much to ask that my family and friends be safe?"
"Yes," Wesley answered in unison with Giles.
"Oh swell, stereophonic Watchers." Faith rose gracefully from her seat on the floor and stretched. "Look, I'm sure it will surprise the hell out of everyone to hear me say this, but they're right. Nowhere is safe unless we beat the hellmouth down again, and we don't have time to waste fighting over who gets to hold the stick. You and I can do the front lines and make with the night-night spell; they can sing backup and fetch weapons. Your mom and Dawn and Anya will stay here and make lemonade just in case we actually survive. I don't know about you, but saving the world tends to make this girl thirsty."
Buffy looked from one resolute face to another. Even Anya stood fast, though her knuckles were white as she gripped Xander's arm. Realizing she was beaten, Buffy shrugged her slim shoulders.
"Uncle."
Xander raised his fist in the air in triumph. "All right! Score one for the Scoobies!" he crowed. "We won, we." his hand suddenly dropped to his side. "Wait a minute, what just happened here?"
* * * * *
She could hear the murmur of voices in the living room, and even the unexpected sound of laughter as she slowly climbed the stairs. Her friends were hard at work gathering weapons, learning new rituals and incantations and psyching themselves up to face what might be the last evil the world would ever know. Buffy should be helping them; it was her duty and she knew that. But she could not resist the siren song of a closed door, up the stairs and down the hall on the left.
There was no time for reminisces; there was almost no time left for the world at all. Yet that was precisely why she could not resist the lure of the past on this day.
She twisted the knob reluctantly and gently pushed open the door, checking over her shoulder for witnesses before she stepped across the threshold of her old bedroom. There were none. The coast was clear to confront her ghosts.
It was worse than she had feared. She felt deafened by the echoes of the past as she took in her surroundings and realized how little the room had changed from the day she moved in. It was supposed to look smaller; it was supposed to look smaller, or darker, or at least dustier than she remembered it. A fifteen-year-old girl had decorated this room about a hundred years ago; how could it stay frozen in time like this?
To her eyes it looked just the same, if a little neater than in days of old. She had conscientiously emptied the dresser and the closet, cleared off the top of the vanity and packed up all her books when she moved out. Her mother, however, had moved Buffy's childhood books onto the shelves, stored her castoff clothes in the open closet and left the bed made up as though her oldest daughter would be back any moment. Buffy knew she should be touched by Joyce's unspoken hopes, but instead she felt smothered.
There was no escape, now or ever, from her destiny. Daughter, sister, slayer; all were intertwined in this room, leaving little room for just plain Buffy.
Whoever that was.
She didn't hear the footsteps coming up behind her; it wasn't until she felt a chin come to rest on her shoulder that she was aware of another presence on the second floor.
"Looks almost the same to me. Didn't take much with you, did you B?" Faith pulled back when she felt Buffy stiffen at her touch. "Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt."
"Not a big."
There was a chill beneath Buffy's casual reply. Too much had happened between them for an easy resumption of their friendship.
Too much had happened for an easy journey to any part of Buffy's past.
Buffy had to force herself to walk all the way into the room, but once she started moving she couldn't seem to stop. As she wandered from one piece of furniture to the next, perversely trying to conjure that sense of nostalgia she had so feared, it suddenly occurred to her what she was really seeking in this room: a reason to continue the fight.
She cared for the others' sake; for them the world must continue to spin on its axis and darkness could not rule over the light. But for herself, she could not find a reason to care. Present and future held no lure, so she sought strength in her past, in their past. Somewhere there must be a piece of herself worth preserving.
If it existed, however, she would not find it here. As she let the flow of memories wash over her, she realized she would not find the reasons she needed in this amber-coated monument to girlhood. Everything within these four walls she already carried inside of her...and it wasn't enough anymore.
Faith leaned in the doorway, unwilling to enter unless she was invited. She watched in silence as Buffy moved restlessly around the room; until at last she could no longer stand the solitude of her own thoughts.
"So were you actually looking for something up here, or just trying to get away from me?"
"I was looking for...something," Buffy absently agreed. She ran her hand over the top of the vanity, trying to remember it cluttered with make-up and jewelry, but for some reason an antique silver cross was the only item she could picture resting there. "Can't seem to find it though. What about you? Why did you come up here?"
"I was looking for you," Faith answered with devastating directness.
"You found me." Suddenly she feared what Faith might have sought her out to say. She was already forcing herself to relive about as much of her past as she could handle. She needed a diversion. "Hey, so what's the deal with you and Gunn? I noticed you seem kind of...close downstairs."
The blush that spread across Faith's cheekbones was something Buffy would have bet good money she would never live to see.
"You saw that, huh? He's, well, he's...special, but you know we're just...well, not exactly just...we're moving really, I mean really slowly." The glow faded from Faith's face, leaving behind an attractive air of maturity. "I was messed up for a long time, and he's not exactly the poster child for stable relationships, so we need to do this in baby steps."
Buffy could remember thinking the same thing after Angel came back from hell. They were going to be just friends, except they were more than that already. So they would take it slow instead, except that there was no time for slow, no allowance for the baby steps Faith took for granted. Even if their emotions had not urged them along further and faster, they were never given the luxury of time to 'take things slow.' That was something normal people got, apparently even Faith got it, but never she and Angel.
That's right, PTBs, Buffy thought dully, bitterness much.
"So what about you?" Faith decided an invitation was not going to be coming any time soon, but neither was an eviction notice. She took a few steps into the room and perched on the desk. "Any potential brothers-in- law I should be checking out? I do work for a detective agency now, you know."
Buffy smiled faintly. "Nope, no one to check out, though it's not for lack of Mom trying. I just don't want to waste my time with '-er' relationships."
"Say that again?"
"Sorry," Buffy shook her head, "private joke."
"Okay," Faith said uneasily, "umm, B, the reason I wanted to talk to you is...I realize it's a little late to be asking, but...are you okay? About Angel, I mean. I wanted to call you when Wesley told me, but I couldn't do it over the phone, and you know how I am about cards." She inwardly cursed herself for her final flip comment, but Buffy's apathy was bringing the old Faith to the fore in self-defense.
"So naturally you waited three and a half years, until the hellmouth yawns and the world is about to fall in. That's just great, Faith." Some things never changed.
"Hey, it wasn't exactly easy for me to do this, you know," Faith protested. Her temper flared, but she quickly regained control. No reverting to old, which is to say bad, habits. "He really went to the mat for me, and I appreciated it, but I know you never did. It made you mad that he could forgive me, and it made you even madder that it made you mad in the first place. I figured seeing me would just bring up a lot of old stuff, and I wasn't sure you'd want to be reminded, of me or of him."
And having seen what the separation had done to Angel, she hadn't been sure she could live with the guilt of seeing how her actions had affected Buffy as well.
"Do you think that I could actually forget? Do you think that there's a day that goes by that he's still not a part of for me?"
Buffy turned away to stare out the window. He was still out there somewhere; she knew it as well as she knew how to breathe. Just because she had stopped trying to draw him out didn't mean she thought he had left her.
"So that makes it sound like a 'no' to the okay question. I was hoping...but I kind of knew." Faith banged her foot disconsolately against the leg of the desk. "I guess that's why I couldn't do this over the phone."
"I've tried to put things back together," Buffy replied quietly, moving closer to the window. "I worked hard at school, even graduated early. I got a good job and a nice apartment, and I see my friends and my mother at least once a week. I'm trying."
"But it's not working," Faith finished for her.
Buffy rested her forehead against the cool glass. So little time left; why bother trying to hide anymore, from Faith or from herself?
"Not enough," she admitted wearily. "I just feel so...old. I'm going to be twenty-four on my next birthday, assuming I actually have a next birthday, and given my luck with them, not having one isn't the worst idea I've ever heard." Her mouth twisted, remembering one birthday in particular that captured all the beauty and horror that symbolized her life in 24 short hours. "But if I do have one, I feel like I should be up to the big eight-o or something. Not twenty-four; I passed that about week two as the slayer."
"Buffy, I know I haven't been on active duty as long as you, but you're still kind of preaching to the choir here. I know how the slayer gig can wear you down. You just have to hang in there," she threw a lazy punch into the air, "and keep fighting."
"It's been over eight years since I put on the big red cape and started saving the world, Faith; I'm tired. I'm tired of the fighting, and the loneliness and never really feeling like anything belongs to me, not even my life." She gave up searching for the face beyond the glass and focused inward, remembering the last time she had seen Angel, in this very room. "Angel was all that was that was ever really mine, and then I lost him. How am I supposed to move on from that and be okay?"
"I admit, I kind of thought you were working on it with that Riley guy," Faith said gently. "You two seemed awfully attached at the hip, among other places."
"That was a long time ago." Buffy opened her eyes, drawn back to the present by the decidedly unromantic topic of Riley Finn. "I thought he was a nice guy, and he'd help me forget. Turns out he wasn't so nice and he only gave me more things I didn't want to remember."
"Yeah, I'm sorry about that." Faith flushed as she scuffed her toe on the carpet. "I really am," she added uneasily when she saw the shock on Buffy's face. Her apology was beyond 'too little too late,' but it was the best she could offer.
"You almost killed Angel, after you tried to drop-kick his soul into oblivion, and you're sorry about Riley? Good to know your priorities are in order, Faith."
Buffy heard the crack in her voice as clearly as Faith; suddenly the ghosts were crowding in too close.
"That was business," Faith answered with all the calm she could muster. She knew that Buffy needed to purge the old bitterness once and for all, if she would only allow herself the outlet. "That doesn't make it right, and it doesn't mean I'm not sorry, but it does make it...different. Angel knew that, and we made our peace a long time ago."
"Peace? You mean he forgave you because he knew exactly what you meant, and then he felt guilty for weeks afterward because he knew exactly what you meant."
"The man knew a thing or two about where to aim a sucker punch," Faith admitted, "and he knew he was the bulls-eye for you. He didn't have a problem with it for himself, Buffy; he was just scared what it could do to you."
"I know," Buffy murmured. "He told me."
Or rather, he had tried to tell her; time and again he had tried, but she had refused to believe his insecurities could run as deep as hers. It wasn't until she had read his journals; read about the life he had given up for her, that she truly understood. So much had been sacrificed that day because Angel believed that he was her greatest weakness instead of recognizing himself as her greatest strength.
"But G.I. Jerk...that was more of a payback thing." Faith toyed nervously with the long chain around her neck as she continued her confession. "I spent eight months inspecting the inside of my eyelids and drinking my dinner through a tube. You spent the same time reinventing yourself." She winced, not enjoying the visit to Faith Past. "Not exactly being Forgive and Forget Girl...I guess I wanted to rub your nose in what a mess you'd made of it."
"The messiest."
There was a brief awkward silence, until Buffy acknowledged that Faith's painful honesty deserved a return in kind.
"Actually, Faith, when I was talking about stuff I didn't want to remember, I wasn't even thinking of that. I mean it hurt, but more because he didn't know it wasn't me. If he knew me at all...but he didn't, and I didn't know him, or want to know him." The memories she was resurrecting snowballed, calling forth shadow upon unwelcome shadow of the past. "I just wanted...a diversion, I guess. Something to keep me distracted from the disaster that was me."
Faith slid off of the desk and cautiously crossed the room to join Buffy at the window.
"So that explains why he's not here today. I figured being the big bad commando and all, he'd want to be in on the fun."
"He left just a little while before Angel died." She'd finally learned how to utter the word 'died' without pausing, but it would always send out a flare of pain to raw nerve endings. "Eventually he came back, after he found out what happened. He actually thought that..." she stopped, shaking her head in amazement. "He thought that with Angel gone we might be able to 'make a go of it.' Like it was an either or sort of thing."
"Men." Faith paused for a moment to consider. "Well, not Gunn, at least I hope not...and not Angel, but still...men."
"After a couple of whacks upside the head I managed to convince him it was a bad idea, and then he left. For good."
"You didn't?" Faith grinned and swatted her on the shoulder. "You go, girl."
Buffy shook her head ruefully. "No, actually I didn't, but I really wanted to. If I hadn't pulled so many punches when we were dating...but he has no idea how strong I really am. It wouldn't have been fair."
"It would have been fun, though."
"That it would." Buffy grinned at Faith, glad to find some common ground at last. "I never thought I'd say this, but I'm actually sort of glad you're here."
"Me too. It felt like the right thing to do, looking up Wesley and Cordy after I got out, and I guess I'm kind of realizing doing the right thing isn't all bad."
Buffy's smile abruptly vanished. "Not if you make it out alive."
"Hey, we'll make it," Faith said, trying to coax another smile. "Who ever survived the two of us combined?" She waited for a response, but when there was none forthcoming she became uneasy. "You do want to make it out alive, don't you?"
Buffy sighed, running her hand through her hair as she tried to formulate a reply they could both believe. Her hesitation only worried Faith more.
"B, talk to me. I don't want any surprises when we drop down into that hellmouth. Are you planning on booking a return ticket, or is this just a one way gig?"
"If you're asking if it would be deliberate, the answer is no. I made a promise to someone that I'd stick it out as long as I'm supposed to. I can't break my word. But if you're asking would I mind...just don't ask, okay?" she pleaded with a tiny smile.
* * * * *
To Be Continued
Part 8
By Gem
&
PJ
Buffy quietly let herself into the house, glancing around to check for any signs of life. The living room was already decorated for the party, but the only noises she could hear came from upstairs. With a tiny sigh she climbed the stairs, carefully bypassing her old bedroom en route to Dawn's room.
"Hey," Buffy called softly from the doorway, "are you almost ready to go? The ceremony is supposed to start in," she glanced down at her wrist, "less than a half an hour."
Dawn turned around from her mirror and grinned as she laid her hairbrush down on the nightstand and clicked off the radio. "I've been ready for ages. Mom is the one who can't decide what speed film to bring, or how many rolls."
Buffy groaned as she checked her watch once more. "I know she's all excited because 'her baby' is graduating high school, but if she doesn't get a move on we won't have anything to take pictures of."
"I think she's just trying to make up for all the stuff she didn't get to do when you graduated. I mean she tried when you finished college, but it wasn't the same."
"Sure wasn't. No explosives, no giant demon snakes, no arson charges filed." Buffy shrugged and tried not to look too hard at the other things that had been missing from her college graduation. Involuntarily her hand rose to cover the old scar on her throat.
Some wounds never heal; no matter how much time they are given.
Dawn toyed nervously with the discarded brush, searching for a tactful way to bring up a touchy subject. "Umm are you going to stay over tonight, after the party? I know Mom has your room all made up, just in case."
"You mean Mom hasn't unmade my room since the day I left," Buffy corrected her. She shivered slightly at the thought of staying in the mausoleum that her old room had become. "No, I think I'll just head back to the apartment. It's not like it's a long drive or anything. Why would she think I'd need to stay?"
"I think she just kind of hoped." Dawn offered a hesitant smile. "Sometimes it seems like you avoid her, or us, or maybe it's just the house. You left so suddenly, and you never said why, but ever since then you act like you have to be dragged in here. I think it hurts her feelings."
"I was in college, Dawn. I went back to the dorms." Buffy's temper was beginning to fray; this was an old debate and one she was tired of revisiting. "I only left them because Mom was sick, and then she got better."
"But you didn't even wait until they were open," Dawn protested. "I went to a sleep-over one night and when I came back the next morning you were tossing stuff in Giles' car and moving in with Xander and Anya until fall semester began. And then when you graduated, you never came back at all; you moved right into an apartment."
"That's what people do. They move out, move on. Jeeze; everyone kept telling me to 'move on' back then, and when I did they got mad about that too." She instantly regretted her harsh tone; she knew Dawn was only trying to help.
"It seems more like you moved away."
Buffy was deluged by a wave of guilt when she heard the lost note in her sister's voice. She had stayed in Sunnydale to protect Dawn, and she had done that well, but surely there was more to being an older sister than just making sure the younger sibling didn't die a horrible death. In some ways it made being the Slayer look easy in comparison.
"Dawn, I'm sorry if you think I don't want to be around you, or Mom." Impulsively she hugged her younger sister. "I need space, though; maybe more than most people. And part of that space means not staying here, with a lot of old memories. I have enough of them in my head already."
It wasn't the complete truth, but it was a truth that Dawn could understand. Buffy could never hope to explain the appalling emptiness her old room held for her now. Some days she thought she would be buried under the weight of her memories, of all that had been, or could have been, and yet she clung to them as a way to keep the past, and Angel, alive.
It wasn't the memories that drove her from that room, this house, three years ago; it was the certainty that there would never be any more. And it was that knowledge that kept her from ever going back.
"I'm sorry I made you sad," Dawn murmured, digging her chin into Buffy's shoulder.
Buffy pulled back slightly and reached out to gently tug one long brown strand of Dawn's hair. "Nope," she said firmly, "my bad. This is your day and we should be celebrating, not getting all weepy." She forced a small smile, resolutely banishing the ghosts to their customary corner of her mind.
"It all seems so weird, you know." Dawn turned back to her mirror for a final make-up check. "You're gone, I'm going away. Everything is changing so fast."
Joyce bustled into the room, camera in hand, before Buffy could reply. "So, are you two finally ready?" she asked brightly. "We need to hustle or we'll be late."
"And some things will never change," Buffy added, nodding slightly at Joyce. Her smile was genuine this time as she and Dawn shared a giggle at their unwitting mother's expense.
* * * * *
"That was the most beautiful ceremony, don't you think?" Joyce asked over her shoulder as she placed her key in the lock on the front door.
Xander shrugged and draped his arm around Anya's waist. "Considering what I have to compare it to, it's not really fair for me to say. It was definitely quieter than experience has led me to expect from a graduation."
Anya leaned gratefully into his side, worn out from a long day and the 30 extra pounds she was carrying courtesy of Xander Jr. "Someday our offspring will graduate from that school. I hope they can afford to put cushions on the wooden benches by then."
"They're called bleachers, hon, and they're not supposed to be padded."
"Well, trust me, it was the..." Joyce's voice trailed off as she looked down at the key turning freely in the lock. "Funny, I could have sworn I remembered to lock the door." She pushed the door open, but before she could enter Buffy brushed past her and stood in the open doorway.
"Mom, let me go in first." Buffy stepped cautiously into the foyer, and then stopped dead when she realized the identity of their housebreakers. "Cordy, Wes, what are you doing here?"
Cordelia rose wearily from the hall chair and tossed the magazine she had been reading onto the writing desk. "Well, I always like to go to Paris in the spring, but Gunn thought it was too touristy so we compromised on Sunnydale instead."
Wesley glanced apprehensively at Cordelia; she was under a greater strain than she would ever admit, and it was starting to show around the edges.
"Cordelia has had a vision. A very bad one, I'm afraid."
Gunn strolled out of the kitchen, a glass of water in his hand. "Yeah, she's been popping pain pills like M&Ms since she stopped screaming."
Buffy hurried over to Cordelia, gently pulling her into the living room and settling her on the couch. The rest of the Scoobies trailed in after them, followed by Wesley and Gunn.
"Are you okay, Cor?" Buffy hovered anxiously over Cordelia as the dark- haired woman swallowed three more pills along with water from the glass Gunn proffered.
Cordelia rubbed her hand across her forehead and offered a weak smile. "I've been better. This one was a real lu-lu. I haven't felt anything like it since Vocah did that allemande left in the street market and gave me the psychic cooties."
Buffy dimly sensed her friends and family settling in for story hour, but the majority of her attention was focused on Cordelia. However much she had tried to protect Angel's friends over the years, she was unable to shield Cordelia from the visions that plagued her even after Angel's death, and those visions always led the trio into trouble. She could only be grateful that this time they had called her for help before it got too bad.
"So what's the deal? Do we have demons commuting from LA, or are we expecting a sudden increase in the permanent population?" Xander rubbed his hands and tried not to look too eager. He had missed the camaraderie of patrols, if not the actual danger, and he sensed a good old-fashioned group hunt in the offing.
Cordelia glanced quickly at Wesley and Gunn, silently questioning who among them would be the spokesperson. After a brief struggle of wills, Wesley was elected.
The Englishman nervously cleared his throat. "I'm afraid it's rather more than a demonic infestation this time. It appears the hellmouth is not quite so closed as you believed, and it is about to become active once again." He paused for a moment, wishing he had any new but this to deliver. "You see it's finally begun, after all these years. The End of Days."
"The end of what?" Joyce asked. She was puzzled by the sudden chilly silence that enveloped the room, drawing even Dawn into its depths. Joyce alone was the outsider, again.
"Armageddon, Mom," Buffy answered quietly. She looked over at Wesley, hoping he would tell her that there was a chance it was a mistake. "Have there been signs, or are we just going on the word of Vision Girl?" She cocked a half-smile at Cordelia to show she wasn't trying to offend.
"Oh, there have been signs, B. What else would you call me being back in Sunnydale?" called a voice from the hallway.
* * * * *
Faith strolled into the Summers living room, trying to project some of her trademark self-confidence with a swagger and a smirk. The effect was somewhat spoiled, however, by her eyes, which darted nervously from one hostile face to another.
"Still hanging with the same old crowd, I see." She nodded politely to each in turn as she strolled past. "All for one and one for all. Nice to see some things don't change."
"Who let her out?" Willow demanded indignantly. Her moment of bravado faded quickly under the heat of Faith's gaze. The witch shrank back against her seat cushion, as she mumbled, "No offense."
"None taken," Faith replied calmly. She completed her circuit of the living room and joined Wesley and Gunn in the archway.
"You'll have to forgive us Faith; this is kind of a surprise," Buffy said with the barest trace of anger in her tone. "I think I can guess why you're here, but 'how' would be a good place to pick up the story." She glanced sharply at Wesley. "Did you break her out? Or did she break herself out?"
"I beg your..."
Faith laid a hand on the sputtering Wesley's arm. "Down boy. I'll defend your honor." She raised an eyebrow at Buffy, a hint of the old Faith in her mocking smile. "Get real. Can you honestly picture Huey, Duey and Louise here staging the big prison break scene? Of course I'm kind of flattered you think I could go over the wall myself, but it didn't turn out to be necessary. I'm here all nice and legal, with the apologies of the state of California no less."
"Now I know the world is coming to an end," Xander said in amazement.
"How? And when?" Buffy leaned back on the sofa and crossed her arms over her chest, preparing for a long, but hopefully truthful story.
"Three months ago," Faith answered swiftly. "As for how, well, Wes can explain it better than me."
"Three months? And no one told me?"
"Well some of us thought you might go a little postal about it; can't imagine how that idea ever crossed anyone's mind." Cordelia regretted her sarcastic tone a moment later when she realized the underlying fear supporting Buffy's anger. "Hey, we knew she was safe, but we also knew you'd worry. You do enough of that, so we figured we'd handle this one."
"You couldn't be sure it was safe," Buffy insisted. "You put yourselves in danger for no reason."
"No, it was for a very good reason, and you know what, or should I say 'who,' it was." Cordelia winced as the escalating tones brought a renewed throb of pain in her skull. She rubbed her temples fretfully, trying to force her overactive nerve endings to cease hostilities. "We figured he'd want us to watch out for her."
"It was still most irresponsible of you," Giles said sternly, gazing narrowly at Wesley. "I would have credited you with better sense."
"Oh, you mean like the last time she got off your radar and your dialing finger couldn't quite reach the phone to let us know? Or was that a way of directing a different finger at Angel?"
"Cordelia, please," Wesley begged. "These are old issues. Today, of all days, we need to focus on the future, and making sure such a thing exists."
"There was no malice intended," Giles protested. "Things happened so fast..."
"Look, what I did, I did and no one else," Faith said abruptly, "so enough with the blame count here. As far as me getting sprung, they didn't tell you because I asked them not to, and I made myself scarce when you came to visit." She glanced at each of her new partners, her gaze lingering on Gunn for a moment before she completed her thought. "This was really important to me. I wanted to make sure it, you know, took, before I let the world know."
"It came about so unexpectedly, you see. It took us quite by surprise," Wesley apologetically. "During the course of yet another investigation of Wolfram and Hart's legal practices..."
Buffy groaned, earning her not only a sour look from Wesley, but also from Cordelia when storytelling was resumed at a higher decibel to discourage further interruption.
"...We accidentally came across some rather interesting, and damaging information." Wesley paused for a moment, but when he sensed he had made his point, he moderated his tone. "It seems they had several judges and assistant district attorneys on the payroll, including those assigned to Faith's trial. It was really quite scandalous. The idea that the law firm is not only willing to represent the dregs of society but would actually subvert the legal..."
"Focus, Wesley." Cordelia's sigh had the sound of practice.
He cleared his throat and began again, after subjecting his martyred partner to an icy glare. "When the facts about the corruption were made public, the verdicts in the cases involved were overturned, rather than put the state to the enormous financial burden of declaring mistrials and beginning again. The people sentenced in those cases were set free; Faith included."
"They were afraid she would sue; can you believe it?" Cordelia shook her head. "She offed a guy, confessed, and still got set free because the state was afraid she'd sue for wrongful imprisonment or something." She smiled half-heartedly at Faith. "No offense."
"And again, none taken." Faith smiled back at Cordelia with equal sincerity. "When I got out I looked up the gang here and decided to try a little honest work for a change." She looked down at her hands for a moment as all traces of levity vanished. "Someone convinced me once that strength isn't just a gift, it's a responsibility, and I should be flattered that I was trusted with it. I decided to try things his way for awhile." An expression of genuine surprise crossed her face. "So far, it's been working out okay."
"Give or take a little apocalypse," Cordelia snapped. "Hello! Can we get back to my bone-crushing migraine and the end of the world, among other things?"
"Hey, that's why I'm here." Faith leaned ever so slightly against Gunn, and no one but Buffy spotted his arm move behind her back to hold her there. "I didn't have anything better on my calendar, so I thought I'd swing by the old burg, say my hellos and help prevent apocalypse number...what one are we up to again?" She looked around the room for an answer.
"Oh, who counts them anymore?" Xander impatiently waved away the question. "What I want to know is if all those stories I've seen on TV about women's prisons are true."
"Xander, shut up." Buffy's tone was pleasant, but with enough underlying steel to close Xander's mouth with an audible snap. "So who are the demons trying to open up Mount St. Hellmouth and how do we stop them?"
"That's the trouble." Wesley grimaced as he tried to think of a positive spin he could put on his news. "This isn't a situation like before where an outside source is trying to open it and harvest its power. We are talking about a true apocalypse; the demons from within are breaking free. The boundaries between dimensions are about to collapse." He waved his finger in the air, trying to rally the troops as he delivered his sole piece of good news. "But we knew this day was coming, and we have been researching for years in preparation. Cordelia's vision, jumbled as it was..."
"Oh, that's gratitude for you," the seer in question snapped.
"...provided sufficient detail, I was about to add," Wesley said in an injured tone. "As a result, I believe we have a spell to shore up the boundaries, and perhaps just enough time to use it." He paused. "Perhaps."
"So all we need to do a little spiritual spackling and then everybody stays in their own neighborhood?" Willow asked hopefully.
"Yes, well, it's a bit more complex than that. Apparently the spell produces some sort of energy, a tremendous amount if the writings of Belzarus the Elder are to be believed. But the energy must be generated from within."
"See, that's the fun part," Faith grinned with genuine pleasure. It was good to feel useful again, especially if it allowed for a little literal hell-raising. "That incantation Wes thinks will do the trick, it has to be taken orally." Seeing the blank look on Willow's face, among others, she elaborated. "We have to let the hellmouth open first, get down inside of it to sing the lullaby and then get out before the incantation actually shuts it down for a long winter's nap."
"If that actually closes it," Buffy pointed out with a sigh. "I can't believe this is happening today, of all days." She waved her hand at all the 'Congratulations Graduate' banners and balloons taped to the walls. "Figure the odds."
"Something about this town and graduations," Faith agreed. "Speaking of, Dawn, like the signs say: congrats. Guess all that time you spent studying while big sis was out slaying paid off." She smiled genially at the younger girl, knowing that Dawn knew her even if in Faith's reality they had never met before. "Sorry we missed the ceremony, but hey, at least we made it for the party."
"Thanks," Dawn replied uneasily. "It was nice you could come...I think."
Buffy shared a puzzled glance with her mother and Giles. Obviously, the LA branch of the Scoobies had briefed Faith on Dawn's true identity; they were the only other people to know the secret. Removed as they were from Dawn's day-to-day life, and never having received a memory remodeling the way the Sunnydale team had, there seemed little risk they would let something slip.
But now, strangely enough, it seemed Faith was also willing to be a part of the well-intentioned conspiracy of silence. Somehow this came as more of a surprise than the threat of Armageddon.
Joyce dealt with her confusion and fear in the manner that had served her so well as the mother of the Chosen One: denial. As far as she was concerned, and until official notice otherwise, today was nothing more than an ordinary tribal rite-of-passage day...with cake, as Anya would be quick to point out.
"Well, I'll start calling the guests to tell them not to come, but since this is the only high-school graduation Dawn is ever going to have, what do you say we make a dent in the cake and ice cream while you figure out how to save the world?"
Some were born to save the world, and some were born to make sure they did it on a full stomach.
"You know I'm always good for a..." Xander began, taking a step towards the overburdened coffee table, covered to the edges with a tempting variety of party foods.
"We have work to do," Giles abruptly interrupted him.
Buffy stood up quickly and clapped her hands together briskly. "Right. I have an arsenal to put together and an incantation to learn, and you all have packing to do. I want to see the last set of taillights on an LA- bound car by five o'clock."
* * * * *
"No; absolutely not. I am not leaving." Giles was growing weary of uttering the same phrase over and over, but he was beginning to believe Buffy must have a hearing disorder. No matter how often he repeated himself, she was just not getting the message.
"None of us are going," Cordelia said indignantly. "If we wanted to sit this one out we would have called you with the stats. We're here to be a part of the fight."
"We all want to be a part of this, and you need us beside you." Giles took off his glasses and ran his hand through his hair, a sure sign of deep perturbation. "You have stayed here in Sunnydale, against your own wishes, because a day like this might come. Now that it has, do you truly believe we would let you face it on your own?"
"This is crazy," Buffy said flatly. "If Faith wants to stay, that's okay. She's a slayer and this is part of the deal. Besides, she's had longer to learn the incantation, so she can bore the hellmouth into sleepy-time while I wail on the demons inside it with some nice sharp toys. But the rest of you are going back to LA. Now."
"Buffy, we don't have time for this. There are too many preparations to be made, and you can't handle them all by yourself." Wesley took a few steps closer to Buffy and dropped his voice. "I realize why you want us all to leave, particularly Gunn, Cordelia and myself. It hasn't escaped our attention the care you have shown us the past few years, or the reasons for it." He rested his hand on her shoulder and looked deeply into her troubled hazel eyes. "But he would know our place is here, beside you. As much as you want to protect us for his sake, we want to do the same for you. You must let us."
"But if you don't go back no one else will either," she snarled, pulling away from his placating gesture. "Is it too much to ask that my family and friends be safe?"
"Yes," Wesley answered in unison with Giles.
"Oh swell, stereophonic Watchers." Faith rose gracefully from her seat on the floor and stretched. "Look, I'm sure it will surprise the hell out of everyone to hear me say this, but they're right. Nowhere is safe unless we beat the hellmouth down again, and we don't have time to waste fighting over who gets to hold the stick. You and I can do the front lines and make with the night-night spell; they can sing backup and fetch weapons. Your mom and Dawn and Anya will stay here and make lemonade just in case we actually survive. I don't know about you, but saving the world tends to make this girl thirsty."
Buffy looked from one resolute face to another. Even Anya stood fast, though her knuckles were white as she gripped Xander's arm. Realizing she was beaten, Buffy shrugged her slim shoulders.
"Uncle."
Xander raised his fist in the air in triumph. "All right! Score one for the Scoobies!" he crowed. "We won, we." his hand suddenly dropped to his side. "Wait a minute, what just happened here?"
* * * * *
She could hear the murmur of voices in the living room, and even the unexpected sound of laughter as she slowly climbed the stairs. Her friends were hard at work gathering weapons, learning new rituals and incantations and psyching themselves up to face what might be the last evil the world would ever know. Buffy should be helping them; it was her duty and she knew that. But she could not resist the siren song of a closed door, up the stairs and down the hall on the left.
There was no time for reminisces; there was almost no time left for the world at all. Yet that was precisely why she could not resist the lure of the past on this day.
She twisted the knob reluctantly and gently pushed open the door, checking over her shoulder for witnesses before she stepped across the threshold of her old bedroom. There were none. The coast was clear to confront her ghosts.
It was worse than she had feared. She felt deafened by the echoes of the past as she took in her surroundings and realized how little the room had changed from the day she moved in. It was supposed to look smaller; it was supposed to look smaller, or darker, or at least dustier than she remembered it. A fifteen-year-old girl had decorated this room about a hundred years ago; how could it stay frozen in time like this?
To her eyes it looked just the same, if a little neater than in days of old. She had conscientiously emptied the dresser and the closet, cleared off the top of the vanity and packed up all her books when she moved out. Her mother, however, had moved Buffy's childhood books onto the shelves, stored her castoff clothes in the open closet and left the bed made up as though her oldest daughter would be back any moment. Buffy knew she should be touched by Joyce's unspoken hopes, but instead she felt smothered.
There was no escape, now or ever, from her destiny. Daughter, sister, slayer; all were intertwined in this room, leaving little room for just plain Buffy.
Whoever that was.
She didn't hear the footsteps coming up behind her; it wasn't until she felt a chin come to rest on her shoulder that she was aware of another presence on the second floor.
"Looks almost the same to me. Didn't take much with you, did you B?" Faith pulled back when she felt Buffy stiffen at her touch. "Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt."
"Not a big."
There was a chill beneath Buffy's casual reply. Too much had happened between them for an easy resumption of their friendship.
Too much had happened for an easy journey to any part of Buffy's past.
Buffy had to force herself to walk all the way into the room, but once she started moving she couldn't seem to stop. As she wandered from one piece of furniture to the next, perversely trying to conjure that sense of nostalgia she had so feared, it suddenly occurred to her what she was really seeking in this room: a reason to continue the fight.
She cared for the others' sake; for them the world must continue to spin on its axis and darkness could not rule over the light. But for herself, she could not find a reason to care. Present and future held no lure, so she sought strength in her past, in their past. Somewhere there must be a piece of herself worth preserving.
If it existed, however, she would not find it here. As she let the flow of memories wash over her, she realized she would not find the reasons she needed in this amber-coated monument to girlhood. Everything within these four walls she already carried inside of her...and it wasn't enough anymore.
Faith leaned in the doorway, unwilling to enter unless she was invited. She watched in silence as Buffy moved restlessly around the room; until at last she could no longer stand the solitude of her own thoughts.
"So were you actually looking for something up here, or just trying to get away from me?"
"I was looking for...something," Buffy absently agreed. She ran her hand over the top of the vanity, trying to remember it cluttered with make-up and jewelry, but for some reason an antique silver cross was the only item she could picture resting there. "Can't seem to find it though. What about you? Why did you come up here?"
"I was looking for you," Faith answered with devastating directness.
"You found me." Suddenly she feared what Faith might have sought her out to say. She was already forcing herself to relive about as much of her past as she could handle. She needed a diversion. "Hey, so what's the deal with you and Gunn? I noticed you seem kind of...close downstairs."
The blush that spread across Faith's cheekbones was something Buffy would have bet good money she would never live to see.
"You saw that, huh? He's, well, he's...special, but you know we're just...well, not exactly just...we're moving really, I mean really slowly." The glow faded from Faith's face, leaving behind an attractive air of maturity. "I was messed up for a long time, and he's not exactly the poster child for stable relationships, so we need to do this in baby steps."
Buffy could remember thinking the same thing after Angel came back from hell. They were going to be just friends, except they were more than that already. So they would take it slow instead, except that there was no time for slow, no allowance for the baby steps Faith took for granted. Even if their emotions had not urged them along further and faster, they were never given the luxury of time to 'take things slow.' That was something normal people got, apparently even Faith got it, but never she and Angel.
That's right, PTBs, Buffy thought dully, bitterness much.
"So what about you?" Faith decided an invitation was not going to be coming any time soon, but neither was an eviction notice. She took a few steps into the room and perched on the desk. "Any potential brothers-in- law I should be checking out? I do work for a detective agency now, you know."
Buffy smiled faintly. "Nope, no one to check out, though it's not for lack of Mom trying. I just don't want to waste my time with '-er' relationships."
"Say that again?"
"Sorry," Buffy shook her head, "private joke."
"Okay," Faith said uneasily, "umm, B, the reason I wanted to talk to you is...I realize it's a little late to be asking, but...are you okay? About Angel, I mean. I wanted to call you when Wesley told me, but I couldn't do it over the phone, and you know how I am about cards." She inwardly cursed herself for her final flip comment, but Buffy's apathy was bringing the old Faith to the fore in self-defense.
"So naturally you waited three and a half years, until the hellmouth yawns and the world is about to fall in. That's just great, Faith." Some things never changed.
"Hey, it wasn't exactly easy for me to do this, you know," Faith protested. Her temper flared, but she quickly regained control. No reverting to old, which is to say bad, habits. "He really went to the mat for me, and I appreciated it, but I know you never did. It made you mad that he could forgive me, and it made you even madder that it made you mad in the first place. I figured seeing me would just bring up a lot of old stuff, and I wasn't sure you'd want to be reminded, of me or of him."
And having seen what the separation had done to Angel, she hadn't been sure she could live with the guilt of seeing how her actions had affected Buffy as well.
"Do you think that I could actually forget? Do you think that there's a day that goes by that he's still not a part of for me?"
Buffy turned away to stare out the window. He was still out there somewhere; she knew it as well as she knew how to breathe. Just because she had stopped trying to draw him out didn't mean she thought he had left her.
"So that makes it sound like a 'no' to the okay question. I was hoping...but I kind of knew." Faith banged her foot disconsolately against the leg of the desk. "I guess that's why I couldn't do this over the phone."
"I've tried to put things back together," Buffy replied quietly, moving closer to the window. "I worked hard at school, even graduated early. I got a good job and a nice apartment, and I see my friends and my mother at least once a week. I'm trying."
"But it's not working," Faith finished for her.
Buffy rested her forehead against the cool glass. So little time left; why bother trying to hide anymore, from Faith or from herself?
"Not enough," she admitted wearily. "I just feel so...old. I'm going to be twenty-four on my next birthday, assuming I actually have a next birthday, and given my luck with them, not having one isn't the worst idea I've ever heard." Her mouth twisted, remembering one birthday in particular that captured all the beauty and horror that symbolized her life in 24 short hours. "But if I do have one, I feel like I should be up to the big eight-o or something. Not twenty-four; I passed that about week two as the slayer."
"Buffy, I know I haven't been on active duty as long as you, but you're still kind of preaching to the choir here. I know how the slayer gig can wear you down. You just have to hang in there," she threw a lazy punch into the air, "and keep fighting."
"It's been over eight years since I put on the big red cape and started saving the world, Faith; I'm tired. I'm tired of the fighting, and the loneliness and never really feeling like anything belongs to me, not even my life." She gave up searching for the face beyond the glass and focused inward, remembering the last time she had seen Angel, in this very room. "Angel was all that was that was ever really mine, and then I lost him. How am I supposed to move on from that and be okay?"
"I admit, I kind of thought you were working on it with that Riley guy," Faith said gently. "You two seemed awfully attached at the hip, among other places."
"That was a long time ago." Buffy opened her eyes, drawn back to the present by the decidedly unromantic topic of Riley Finn. "I thought he was a nice guy, and he'd help me forget. Turns out he wasn't so nice and he only gave me more things I didn't want to remember."
"Yeah, I'm sorry about that." Faith flushed as she scuffed her toe on the carpet. "I really am," she added uneasily when she saw the shock on Buffy's face. Her apology was beyond 'too little too late,' but it was the best she could offer.
"You almost killed Angel, after you tried to drop-kick his soul into oblivion, and you're sorry about Riley? Good to know your priorities are in order, Faith."
Buffy heard the crack in her voice as clearly as Faith; suddenly the ghosts were crowding in too close.
"That was business," Faith answered with all the calm she could muster. She knew that Buffy needed to purge the old bitterness once and for all, if she would only allow herself the outlet. "That doesn't make it right, and it doesn't mean I'm not sorry, but it does make it...different. Angel knew that, and we made our peace a long time ago."
"Peace? You mean he forgave you because he knew exactly what you meant, and then he felt guilty for weeks afterward because he knew exactly what you meant."
"The man knew a thing or two about where to aim a sucker punch," Faith admitted, "and he knew he was the bulls-eye for you. He didn't have a problem with it for himself, Buffy; he was just scared what it could do to you."
"I know," Buffy murmured. "He told me."
Or rather, he had tried to tell her; time and again he had tried, but she had refused to believe his insecurities could run as deep as hers. It wasn't until she had read his journals; read about the life he had given up for her, that she truly understood. So much had been sacrificed that day because Angel believed that he was her greatest weakness instead of recognizing himself as her greatest strength.
"But G.I. Jerk...that was more of a payback thing." Faith toyed nervously with the long chain around her neck as she continued her confession. "I spent eight months inspecting the inside of my eyelids and drinking my dinner through a tube. You spent the same time reinventing yourself." She winced, not enjoying the visit to Faith Past. "Not exactly being Forgive and Forget Girl...I guess I wanted to rub your nose in what a mess you'd made of it."
"The messiest."
There was a brief awkward silence, until Buffy acknowledged that Faith's painful honesty deserved a return in kind.
"Actually, Faith, when I was talking about stuff I didn't want to remember, I wasn't even thinking of that. I mean it hurt, but more because he didn't know it wasn't me. If he knew me at all...but he didn't, and I didn't know him, or want to know him." The memories she was resurrecting snowballed, calling forth shadow upon unwelcome shadow of the past. "I just wanted...a diversion, I guess. Something to keep me distracted from the disaster that was me."
Faith slid off of the desk and cautiously crossed the room to join Buffy at the window.
"So that explains why he's not here today. I figured being the big bad commando and all, he'd want to be in on the fun."
"He left just a little while before Angel died." She'd finally learned how to utter the word 'died' without pausing, but it would always send out a flare of pain to raw nerve endings. "Eventually he came back, after he found out what happened. He actually thought that..." she stopped, shaking her head in amazement. "He thought that with Angel gone we might be able to 'make a go of it.' Like it was an either or sort of thing."
"Men." Faith paused for a moment to consider. "Well, not Gunn, at least I hope not...and not Angel, but still...men."
"After a couple of whacks upside the head I managed to convince him it was a bad idea, and then he left. For good."
"You didn't?" Faith grinned and swatted her on the shoulder. "You go, girl."
Buffy shook her head ruefully. "No, actually I didn't, but I really wanted to. If I hadn't pulled so many punches when we were dating...but he has no idea how strong I really am. It wouldn't have been fair."
"It would have been fun, though."
"That it would." Buffy grinned at Faith, glad to find some common ground at last. "I never thought I'd say this, but I'm actually sort of glad you're here."
"Me too. It felt like the right thing to do, looking up Wesley and Cordy after I got out, and I guess I'm kind of realizing doing the right thing isn't all bad."
Buffy's smile abruptly vanished. "Not if you make it out alive."
"Hey, we'll make it," Faith said, trying to coax another smile. "Who ever survived the two of us combined?" She waited for a response, but when there was none forthcoming she became uneasy. "You do want to make it out alive, don't you?"
Buffy sighed, running her hand through her hair as she tried to formulate a reply they could both believe. Her hesitation only worried Faith more.
"B, talk to me. I don't want any surprises when we drop down into that hellmouth. Are you planning on booking a return ticket, or is this just a one way gig?"
"If you're asking if it would be deliberate, the answer is no. I made a promise to someone that I'd stick it out as long as I'm supposed to. I can't break my word. But if you're asking would I mind...just don't ask, okay?" she pleaded with a tiny smile.
* * * * *
To Be Continued
