A/N: Feedback is my addiction. You all are my drug-dealers. Thank you for feeding my habit!
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"Can I at least ask what you're doing here?"
Wesley poured Faith a glass of cold water before sitting down across from her at the kitchen table.
"You mean, besides saving your ass?" she asked and sipped from her drink.
"Yes, besides that. How did you know what was going on?"
"What? You're the only one allowed to stalk people?" She shrugged. "You follow me, I follow you. That's how this game works, right?"
Wesley laughed quietly to himself in response.
"I do need to know one thing though," Faith said, her eyes full of determination. "That was Angel, right? And not…?"
"Angelus, no," Wesley sighed. "That was Angel."
"Odd how that doesn't comfort me," she frowned. She finished off her drink quickly before asking, "So what the hell is going on? I mean, why are you following me? Why are you telling me to stay low?"
Wesley stood with a sigh. "As you know, I'm working for Wolfram and Hart," he said as he strolled into the living room.
Faith sat patiently at the table as he called from somewhere within the living room. "They somehow found a new prophecy at their fingertips."
Wesley returned to the kitchen with an armful of books. He opened each of the journals to their earmarked pages and spread them across the table. He retrieved the notebook of his own translations from the pile before sitting.
"A prophecy about you."
"Me?" Faith asked, her eyebrows raised in curiosity. "Wow, I didn't know I was prophecy material." She smiled and reached for one of the books, flipping through its tattered and yellowed pages.
"You're not mentioned by name. No one ever is in these things," Wesley explained. "But there is a reference to the Chosen One turned dark."
The smile slipped from Faith's lips. "The Chosen One turned dark?"
"And considering that you and Buffy are the only Chosen Ones at the moment….."
"And I'm the one who tired to kill everybody," Faith finished with a frown. "Yeah, I get it. I'm the dark one. So what else is new?"
"How about the fact that it's written that you will play a key role in the coming apocalypse?"
"A key role?" She perked up again as she asked, "So I get to save the world?"
Wesley remained silent, and Faith's mood turned somber again as she laid down the book. "And then you don't answer me," she said.
"It's difficult to say, Faith…."
"It shouldn't be. I mean, this should be pretty straight to the point, right? Either I'm gonna save the world or…." She stopped, her eyes searching his for any answer. "Or I'm gonna destroy it. I'm gonna destroy the world?"
"I've been checking what sources I've been able to get my hands on, and at the moment, it's all very vague."
"Vague? Wesley, there's no room for vague here."
"I agree, but…."
Wesley paused as he looked down at his scribbled writing-- scratches through lines he felt he had translated wrong, stars by words that seemed significant. Just like he had done time and time again….
The father will kill the son.
Wesley looked back up at Faith as he continued, "But prophecies are difficult, Faith. Especially when they're in demonic dialects for the most part."
"So what do you have so far?"
"A little bit of everything. All the texts clearly refer to the Chosen One turned dark and an apocalypse. From that point on, everything is a matter of translation. In the Kreslak tongue, there's mention of some form of alliance formed by the Chosen One. An alliance with whom, I'm not sure."
Faith sat back in her chair, listening.
"In the N'klid language, there are several mentions of obliteration and destruction when the Chosen One turned dark is called upon in the battle." Wesley looked at Faith reassuringly as he added, "But that could mean many things, Faith."
She simply nodded in response, her fingers wrapped tightly around her glass.
"Then there were the human languages. The Latin text mentions 'amicitia' or an alliance, and there is also mention of 'aboleo'. To destroy or do away with. I also came across a German text that contains a phrase which roughly translated means with intent to destroy."
"Noticing a theme?" Faith frowned.
"But these are just small pieces of the puzzle, Faith. Technically, none of these texts come right out and say you're going to destroy the world."
"But I am going to destroy something."
"And for all we know, that something could be whatever evil that rises."
Faith sat forward and slowly closed each of the books laid open on the table. Once they were closed, she returned her gaze to Wesley.
"The books are gone now," she said quietly. "I wanna know what you think, not what the books have told you. What do you believe? Am I gonna be the one to end the world?"
Wesley held her stare but couldn't bring himself to speak.
Faith nodded in response. "All I needed to hear."
With that, she started out of the apartment.
"Faith," he called after her, but she didn't stop to acknowledge him. She pulled the apartment door closed as Wesley got to his feet.
**********
Wesley stepped outside, the rain pelting down upon him. He slowly walked up to Faith, who stood in the courtyard of the apartment complex, her arms wrapped tightly around herself.
He stopped over her shoulder. "Faith?" he asked cautiously. "Are you okay?"
"I'm great," she chirped back. She glanced over her shoulder at him. "I'm going to destroy the world. Why wouldn't I be great?"
"Faith, with these prophecies…."
"The Chosen One turned dark?" she interrupted with a sniffle. "Kinda has a ring to it, huh?"
Wesley remained silent, shoving his hands into the pockets of his slacks as the rain continued to wash over them.
"I should have known, you know. Can't escape fate. No matter how much I try to change myself, it'll still be there. The darkness, the rage, the blood." She smoothed back her drenched hair with a bitter laugh. "I am the dark one."
"Faith…." Wesley sighed.
"I'm seeing a shrink," she interrupted. "How fucked up is that? It's some pointless requirement. Part of my rehabilitation, they say." She laughed quietly. "So much for rehabilitation, huh?"
"Faith, prophecies are not written in stone. These things may not even come to pass. Buffy has defied prophecies time and time again." He paused, frowning. "I may even be wrong in my translations…."
She scoffed. "Wes, man, you were probably born translating demon languages."
With a sigh, Wesley stepped up beside her. He studied her for a moment as she stared out into the darkness of the night-- the rain dripping from her nose and chin, stray strands of hair glued to her cheeks.
"You can't put all your confidence in a prophecy. I know from experience," he said quietly. "Just because some ancient text makes a vague reference to you and some apocalypse doesn't make it so."
"Maybe not." She turned to him, her eyes locking with his. "But look me straight in the eye and tell me that you don't believe it. That you don't think I'm capable of destroying the world."
He held her stare silently for a moment. "We're all capable, Faith."
"You're avoiding the question," she smirked.
Wesley shrugged in response. "Actually, I'm looking at the answer. My opinion doesn't really matter much here. It's yours. Do you think you're capable?"
Faith sighed and turned her gaze ahead. "Honestly?" She turned back to him, a slight frown on her lips. "Yeah, I do."
Wesley returned the frown before smoothing back his drenched hair. He wiped a hand down his face before a slight smile formed on his lips. "Faith, you do realize that if we don't get into a dry environment soon, pneumonia will kill us before you'll ever get the chance?"
Faith turned to him, grinning. "When did you become the smart ass?"
"Things have changed," he replied and turned back towards the apartment.
"Obviously," she said, watching him depart. After a moment, she followed.