See end of chapter for content warnings.
Willow had done such a good job healing Buffy that the Slayer was released from the hospital the same night. "This wound is days healed already. Why did you come so late?" the doctors had asked. Buffy had only shrugged; it seemed useless to come up with endless excuses to explain their constant supernatural injuries.
After that, Giles prescribed Buffy bed rest and a few nights off from slaying.
"I'm really feeling fine," said Buffy with a wince the next day, "I can run 'n kick 'n jump. All the usual slayage activities."
"You should still rest, Buffy," said Giles.
"But the demons aren't gonna stop coming just 'cause I'm hurt," said Buffy, "Someone could get killed."
"Don't worry, B," said Faith, "Me and Will got patrol tonight."
"Are you sure?" said Buffy, "You guys don't have to."
"Don't worry about a thing, Buff," said Willow, "You deserve a night off, even if you didn't have a big 'ole spider leg in your gut."
Faith whispered something in Willow's ear, and Buffy furrowed her brow.
"If you guys are sure," said the Slayer.
"Way sure," said Willow, "Rest up, and we'll see you in a few hours."
"Be careful," said Buffy.
Willow smiled and nodded, before turning to follow Faith out of the room.
"I think I'll head home, if you're alright, Buffy," said Giles, "If I manage to awaken Anya once she's fallen asleep, I will not hear the end of it."
"Giles," said Buffy, "I'm fine. Willow really fixed me up. She's amazing."
"She's very powerful," said Giles.
Buffy frowned. Then Xander barged in, wielding a bottle of pills.
"I come bearing aspirin," he said, "Sorry I took so long. Sorting through your medicine cabinet… you guys have a concerning amount of painkillers."
"Look, between my slayage injuries, Will's magick headaches, and Dawn, uh, becoming a woman," Buffy said, "We've collected a lot over the years. Now gimme."
"And that is my cue to leave," said Giles, exiting.
"Is the next Big Bad actually Big Pharma?" Xander paused, "Also, ew on the Dawn thing."
"Oh, prude," said Buffy.
"How's your gut?"
"Not too bad," said Buffy, "Will fixed me right up."
"Yeah," said Xander, "She seemed really freaked out. I mean, we all were. She's just the only one who could actually do anything."
Buffy thought for a moment, words swirling in her mouth before finally leaving it. "I think Will's up to something," she blurted, "Will and Faith."
"What?" said Xander.
"I walked in on them a few days ago, and they were being all suspicious-like. And it wasn't the first time I've seen 'em sneaking around. They are both recently-evil, I think they're hiding something."
"Uh, yeah," said Xander, "They're hiding something alright."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Buffy." He studied her gaze for some sort of understanding. He didn't find it. "Buffy, they're having sex."
Buffy stared at him, dumbfounded, like the words were spoken in another language and they took her a moment to translate. "No they're not."
"Yes they are," said Xander, "I thought you knew. Seeing as they… live in your house."
"What makes you think that?"
"I know Willow, and I also know having sex with Faith. I happen to be quite familiar with those bruises she's sporting."
"They're not having sex!" said Buffy, "Willow hates Faith with the burning passion of a thousand suns."
"You hated Spike," Xander shrugged.
"Hate," said Buffy, "Present tense." She paused, "Will and Faith? No way."
"Way!"
"But… how can you be sure…?"
"Willow and I can read each other like I can't read a book. I've seen her hide dirty secrets, back when the dirty secret was me and my Xander-lips. I've seen the way they look at each other. Plus, she told me."
"She told you?"
"Well, I guessed," said Xander, "So she came clean. But, at this point, I think you might be the only one who didn't know. All you gotta do is look at them."
"Looking at Faith gives me the jeebies," said Buffy, "And the two of them together? Barf."
"Well be nice about it," said Xander, "I think it's good for Will to have… that again. I was worried she was gonna take a vow of abstinence and join a convent or something."
"Yeah, yeah," said Buffy, "I'll be supportive best friend gal. I just… Well, I hope they're careful. Faith is mean."
"Faith has a soul," said Xander, "It's a pretty dirty soul and it's been knocked around a few times, but she's got one. And Will wouldn't let herself get hurt, anyway."
"Okay, maybe I'm being overprotective. I guess I'm just kinda… after what happened. I think I'm about to go join a convent myself."
"How are you doing, Buff? Really."
"It was months ago," said Buffy, "I'm fine. I've been distracted, dealing with Willow and Dawn and now the new job and stuff… And wherever he went… I don't have to think about it anymore."
"Ah, the bottling of the problems," said Xander, "My area of expertise. Have you told Willow what he did?"
Buffy sighed, "Uh— no. She's dealing with all her guilt and stuff still. Doesn't she look like she's going to break? Is she getting better? If she finds out that on top of… everything, all the stuff she should feel guilty about… like, she was fighting me and starting the apocalypse after I went through that and… I don't think she can handle another thing. I think she'll break."
"Will can handle a lot, Buff," said Xander, "I know you feel like tiptoeing is the way. But you're going through things too. You need your best friend."
"I have you," said Buffy, "I love Willow. But I still don't know if I… trust her. All the way."
"You don't need to trust her," said Xander, "Not with the magic or with Dawn or the slaying, not if you don't want. But you do need a friend."
Faith led the way as she and Willow arrived at the cemetery. With the number of demons in town rising exponentially with each tremor, Willow expected to be ambushed immediately. But the graveyard was peaceful, so much so that a less-knowledgeable visitor might assume that the dead had never walked across its grass.
But Willow knew better than that, and she and Faith were at the ready for an attack that was less a question of 'if' and more a matter of 'when'.
"I wonder where they all are," said Willow, "We've been kicking some pretty good butt the last few days. Maybe we scared 'em off?"
"They'll show," said Faith, "You gotta be smart to be scared, and eighty percent of these demons ain't smart."
"What about the other twenty?"
"They know what's good for them and they're staying in their coffins."
They walked a little longer, and Willow felt suffocated by the lack of conversation, itching for a distraction from the sounds of the Earth in her ears—Death was quite loud. "How's it feel? Being back?" she said.
"You know how it feels," said Faith, "Aren't you goin' through the same thing?"
"Yeah. And it's hard," said Willow, "Is it hard for you too? Are you okay?"
"Five by five, Red."
Willow pouted, "What's that mean, anyhow?"
"I heard it on TV," Faith shrugged, "I think it's a military thing." Faith stopped walking, and Willow thought it was because she sensed a demon. But Faith turned to her instead, "Look, Will," she sighed, "Yeah. It's hard. I know Buff doesn't want me around and I know everyone thinks I'm gonna snap. I know you know what that's like. It's like everyone is waiting for me to screw up so they can send me back to jail, or kill me. It's hard. Really, really hard." Her eyes, which had been wandering across the field behind them, landed on Willow's, "But you make it a little easier."
Willow smiled softly, was filled with warmth. She hadn't meant to make a connection with Faith, had only been trying to occupy her own mind and body. The two kept walking, almost fooled into calm by the seeming peacefulness of the night.
Almost.
It was then that a group of vampires emerged from the shadows in what they likely fancied an ambush, but Willow and Faith were prepared and unafraid as the fiends stalked towards them.
"It's dangerous to be out this time of night, girls," said one vampire.
"Yeah," said Faith, "For you."
Then Faith started pummeling them. Willow liked watching Faith slay, and she felt she really only needed to come in with the magicks if things were getting tough. She cheered Faith on from the sidelines, feeling a little like a version of herself from too long ago, tagging along on patrol with Buffy for study sessions and boy talk.
"Strong!" said a vampire when Faith dusted his friend. He nodded at Willow, "You strong too, Red?"
"Trust me," said Willow, "You don't want me to answer that."
She never got the chance, anyway, because Faith took the opportunity to stake the vamp from behind. The remaining demon turned and ran, but Faith tossed her stake so that it embedded itself in its back before falling to the ground in a shower of dust.
The last vampire staked, Faith turned to Willow, a little crazed with post-slay lust, and grabbed her harshly by the shirt, pulling her close and kissing her.
"Hey," said Willow with a chuckle, "We should probably patrol. We promised Buffy."
"Couple 'a gals making out in a graveyard?" said Faith, "They'll come to us."
"But we'll be distracted," said Willow.
"No," said Faith, pushing Willow down against a headstone, "You'll be distracted," she reached down, undoing Willow's belt, "I'll be very, very… focused."
"Come on, Faith," said Willow, "Someone's buried here. Don't be gross."
"Don't be a prude," said Faith, kissing Willow's ear.
"Faith," said Willow, "I'm serious. Get off."
"I'm trying."
"You're not funny,"
"You're not scary. Hey, I'm just trying to keep you happy. Y'know, so you don't go all evil again."
Faith started kissing Willow's neck, but Willow squirmed underneath her.
"Hey, Faith," said Willow, "This is extremely hot, what with the graveyard and the danger and everything, but— ohhh."
"You were saying?" said Faith.
"I was saying—" Faith shoved her harder against the headstone, her head slamming against it painfully. It made Willow grin. When did she get pain and pleasure so confused? "Faith, stop it," she said, although she looked unconvincing through her smile.
"What, I thought you liked to play rough?"
"Well sure," said Willow, "But not right now." Faith didn't stop, though. "Come on, Faith. Get off."
She didn't. Willow tried to get up but Faith forced her easily back down. Willow squirmed, and Faith held her still, nails digging into her arm.
Willow attempted to push her away but the Slayer took Willow's hand in hers and pinned the witch's arm behind her. Willow felt something pop in her shoulder and she cried out in pain, but Faith stifled her cry with a kiss and squeezed her hand tight with passion, until a terrible crunch brought forth a yelp that died in Willow's throat.
Willow tried to bring her good hand up to come between Faith's face and her own, but Faith thrust her against the headstone again—hard. Too hard, this time. Willow's head cracked against the stone and she saw static for a moment, briefly forgot what was happening before it quickly came back to her.
"Faith," she moaned, "Faith, I'm gonna… hurt you."
"Good," said Faith, "'Cause I've been doing all the hurting."
Willow laid there for a moment, dazed. I won't use my magick to hurt you, she thought, I won't use my magick to hurt you. She could feel Faith squeezing her arms, her thighs, leaving bruises darker than the ones before them. Even with all her training, without her magicks Willow had no hope against the Slayer, and it made her feel terribly weak. Faith snaked one hand up her shirt and the other inside her pants. Stop her! Willow thought, magicks hovering, dancing at her fingertips, Just stop her! But she was more afraid of her own power than she was of Faith, and surely she deserved this somehow. Somewhere in her mind, Willow cursed her own control. She moved her gaze lazily skyward. Now nearly supine on the grass, she glanced upwards at the headstone, topside-down from her perspective.
She could see her blood smeared across it. From her head, she assumed. Or was it her nose? No, she hadn't used magick, didn't have a nosebleed. Right? It was familiar to her, the way the blood dripped over the letters carved into the rock. And the name; the name on the headstone, which was tainted by her blood and her sex—
Suddenly, like she'd been struck by lightning, Willow turned to Faith, heart racing and eyes black, "Get. Off."
Willow felt nauseous and angry. What cemetery were they in? Logic didn't matter. She was brimming with rage, with vengeance and guilt, and with blame for the woman on top of her.
Faith removed her hand from underneath Willow's shirt, tearing it instead, oblivious, and then kissing her navel, "What're ya gonna do if I don't?" Faith grinned, excited.
How dare I? Willow thought. She growled, and Faith reached for her breast. Willow looked Faith in the eyes, but the Slayer didn't even notice that Willow's were black in the darkness. "How dare you! "
Now Faith found a little concern, or confusion, within herself. But before she could stop herself, her hand found its way to Willow's breast, and as her palm made contact with Willow's skin Faith screamed and pulled it back, terrible burns instantly blistering across her hand. Blood dripped down Faith's arm as she cradled her fingers, peeled, scorched skin giving way to bright red muscle underneath, which reminded Willow of one of her previous victims. The scent of scorched flesh made its way to Willow's nose and she leaped up and grabbed Faith by the neck with her good arm, her magicks supporting her, pinning the Slayer against a tree.
"You know," Willow said, "There's this myth. Greek. This witch, she turns rapists into pigs because that's what they are. You wanna be a pig?"
Faith's face fell, soaked in horror. "R-r… No, Will—"
Willow threw Faith to the floor, vines coming up through the Earth and pulling at her extremities. Faith screamed in agony, and Willow chuckled a little, the whiplash of the quick transition from powerlessness to unstoppableness making her dizzy, "This hurt enough for you, babe? "
"Willow," Faith cried, "Please, stop. I-I'm sorry, I…"
Faith was sobbing. It was a strange sight, one that Willow wasn't sure she'd ever seen. Was the Slayer in that much pain, or was it guilt that brought tears to her eyes? Willow knew that she could kill her— should kill her, shouldn't she? Not for what she'd done to her, but for what she'd done to—
Willow felt faint, suddenly, and she stumbled to the floor as the vines freed Faith. The Earth started to shake, and Willow just laid there as the visions assaulted her. They seemed like a nice alternative to the present.
"Will," said Faith, stifling sobs once the earthquake stopped, "Hey, you okay? You get a vision?"
Willow didn't answer her.
And then a voice echoed behind them. "Oh, this is quite a vision," said some fledgeling vampire as he glided up to them, "Whatever you were doing, don't let me interrupt. Say, I can make you immortal and you can do it forever!"
"Pig," said Faith.
He leapt for Willow, but Faith got to him first, though her reflexes were slowed after her muscles were assaulted by Willow's vines. She punched the vamp with her good hand, but he grabbed her by the bad one and she screeched in pain. He took the opportunity to knee her in the stomach and she doubled over.
"Will," said Faith, "I can't— I'm too hurt. Can you—?"
Willow's gaze flickered to the vampire, who instantly caught fire and turned to dust.
Faith stared at her, "Wow, Will," she said, "I didn't know you could do that."
"I didn't know you could do that," Willow muttered.
"We gotta get back," said Faith, "I… I'm sorry… I thought— I thought it was a bit, it was part of it… I didn't realize… usually you like it when—"
"It doesn't matter," said Willow.
"Are you okay? Your eyes—"
"—Are black?"
"No," said Faith, using her knife to reflect moonlight into Willow's dilated eyes, "They're messed up. Like you hit your head. I didn't… Was I hurting you? Like for real? I wasn't… Will, I wasn't tryna knock you out or nothing. You gotta believe me. I would never— I would never— "
"No, I get it," said Willow, "You lost control. I shouldn't have— I hurt you bad, didn't I? Why'd you make me hurt you? Why couldn't you just stop?"
"I—" Faith stuttered, "How bad is it? Can you stand? Can I help you? Can I… touch you?"
"I got it," said Willow, and she sat up. She peered back at the headstone, the one marked with her blood. Thomas McIntyre , it read. No, no. She was sure of it, what she saw. It had said 'Tara Maclay'. But that was impossible—she wasn't even buried here. Had Willow dreamed that? Hallucinated? Had some dark part of her searched for an excuse, any excuse, to come forth, to kill, to break her promise to Faith and to her friends and the world?
"Will," said Faith, "Willow, I'm so sorry. I'm so, so, so sorry."
Willow took Faith's hand and healed it some of the way. It was a lazy, botched job, the skin healed in bloody, scarred patches.
"Thanks," said Faith, "Did I mess up your arm? Can you fix that too?"
"No," said Willow, "I don't have enough energy to do more healing right now."
"What if we run into more vamps? It's dislocated. You gotta let me pop it back in."
"I gotta?" said Willow.
"Red," said Faith, "Willow. Please. Let me fix what I can."
Willow nodded slightly and Faith reached carefully for Willow's arm. She touched it gently with the tips of her fingers, flinched like she expected to be burned. But she found that the surface was safe, so she grabbed Willow's upper arm with both hands, wincing as her injured one made contact, "You're gonna scream. I'm sorry. Three, two–"
Willow did cry out as Faith forced her shoulder back into its socket, small tears forming in the corners of her eyes.
"I'm sorry," Faith said, "I'm sorry. Better, right? Are you okay?"
Willow looked down at herself, surveying the damage, "I liked this shirt."
"I'll— I'll buy you another one. Will, I'm so, so sorry. I didn't know how much strength I was using, I lost control. I didn't wanna hurt you like that. Please, Will. I messed up bad. I'm sorry."
"Stop," said Willow, "Stop apologizing."
"Why didn't you stop me, Will?" said Faith, "You could kill that vamp with your eyes. Why did you lay there and let me hurt you?"
"I promised you," said Willow, "I promised you I wouldn't use magick to hurt you." She shuddered, felt dread in her stomach as she began to realize what had really just happened: what Faith had done, and more what she had done, "But I couldn't even keep it. I snapped, I went crazy. If the Hellmouth hadn't done its shaky thing, do you think I wouldn't have killed you? I thought that was Tara's grave."
CW: rape
