TITLE: Falling
AUTHOR: Spwaddict
E-MAIL: brackish60518@yahoo.com
RATING: R
SPOILERS: The fight scene in "Graduation".
PAIRINGS: Just Faith.
SUMMARY: She doesn't care that Faith is falling.
NOTES: What can I say? I'm just obsessed with Faith. She's cool, and I'm
sick.
DISCLAIMER: Joss owns it. Not me. He owns all of it. 'Buffy', Faith,
Characters, Sets, wardrobes. He owns the computer, keyboard, and cloths on
my back.Well, just mostly 'Buffy'.
FEEDBACK: Oh, you know I live on it...
Shouldn't it hurt? It seems almost rehearsed, as if we've been preparing for this all our lives. Maybe we have.
Block. Punch. Jab.
I know she's stronger than me. Do I actually think that I'll come out of this alive? Do I even want to?
Punch. Jab. Block. Pun.
Did I say it, or her? Doesn't madder. She's so determined, and for what?
All in the name of love.
I was in love once.It was--.No, I wasn't. Wasn't me.
Guess my mind idn't what it used to be. She's so determined to help him. To kill me. It's almost amusing.So, I smile.
She pulls out the knife. My knife.
"That's mine."
Pun.
She says it this time. I don't care. We crash through glass, and it shatters. I shattered long ago. She doesn't care, though. It's all about him. She doesn't know about all the men that hurt people like her everyday. Men like him. People like me. She doesn't care. She will when he hurts her. And he will.
Tumble. Block. Punch.
I think about my Dad. I don't know why. The only time I think about my Dad is when I'm on my knees. I'm not now. She wouldn't kill someone on her knees. That's what makes her better than me. Better than everyone else.
I think about Tom. The guy in the back of a pickup truck when I was fifteen. He was slow, and caring. That's when I realized that I hated it slow. It had to hurt. She wants me to hurt. For all the people I've hurt. What about the people that hurt me? She doesn't care.
I think about John. He was the one in the hotel room when I was seventeen. He made me scream. He made me bleed. She'll make me bleed. I saw it go into my stomach before it did. I accepted it, almost gratefully.
Block. Punch. Stab.
She did it.
I thought that would never end. Am I talking about the fight, or life? She looks shocked, but I know better. She's cheering inside. She is a Slayer, after all. She thinks she's won. No one wins over me. She doesn't know that all those nice guys she falls for are the ones fucking me in the back of the alley. She doesn't care that they tear a piece of me out with them every time they cum. She doesn't care that that's why I'm here, bleeding in front of her. That's why I'm dying.
All in the name of love.
I'll never die for love. I'll never die for something that isn't real.
Then, I fall. It feels like I'm never going to hit the ground. I don't see her looking down on me as I fall, but somehow I know she is. All I see is black. It's peaceful here. The fall is always peaceful until you hit bottom. And you always end up at the bottom.
Shouldn't it hurt? It seems almost rehearsed, as if we've been preparing for this all our lives. Maybe we have.
Block. Punch. Jab.
I know she's stronger than me. Do I actually think that I'll come out of this alive? Do I even want to?
Punch. Jab. Block. Pun.
Did I say it, or her? Doesn't madder. She's so determined, and for what?
All in the name of love.
I was in love once.It was--.No, I wasn't. Wasn't me.
Guess my mind idn't what it used to be. She's so determined to help him. To kill me. It's almost amusing.So, I smile.
She pulls out the knife. My knife.
"That's mine."
Pun.
She says it this time. I don't care. We crash through glass, and it shatters. I shattered long ago. She doesn't care, though. It's all about him. She doesn't know about all the men that hurt people like her everyday. Men like him. People like me. She doesn't care. She will when he hurts her. And he will.
Tumble. Block. Punch.
I think about my Dad. I don't know why. The only time I think about my Dad is when I'm on my knees. I'm not now. She wouldn't kill someone on her knees. That's what makes her better than me. Better than everyone else.
I think about Tom. The guy in the back of a pickup truck when I was fifteen. He was slow, and caring. That's when I realized that I hated it slow. It had to hurt. She wants me to hurt. For all the people I've hurt. What about the people that hurt me? She doesn't care.
I think about John. He was the one in the hotel room when I was seventeen. He made me scream. He made me bleed. She'll make me bleed. I saw it go into my stomach before it did. I accepted it, almost gratefully.
Block. Punch. Stab.
She did it.
I thought that would never end. Am I talking about the fight, or life? She looks shocked, but I know better. She's cheering inside. She is a Slayer, after all. She thinks she's won. No one wins over me. She doesn't know that all those nice guys she falls for are the ones fucking me in the back of the alley. She doesn't care that they tear a piece of me out with them every time they cum. She doesn't care that that's why I'm here, bleeding in front of her. That's why I'm dying.
All in the name of love.
I'll never die for love. I'll never die for something that isn't real.
Then, I fall. It feels like I'm never going to hit the ground. I don't see her looking down on me as I fall, but somehow I know she is. All I see is black. It's peaceful here. The fall is always peaceful until you hit bottom. And you always end up at the bottom.