Waiting
By Wil
Faith stood at the edge of the crater that had once been Sunnydale, California staring out into the vast pit of rubble. She watched as the dust that had begun to only now-three days afterward-to settle. So many wrongs were buried beneath the broken pieces of slate, granite, and two-by- fours. So many sins and nasty, spiteful, moments of her past-all lain to rest and gone.
She was supposed to be a hero now. A champion. Or so Buffy Summers and her friends would have her believe. Then why didn't she feel like one? Where was the wave of relief and happiness that was supposed to wash over her, baptizing Faith as the few, the proud, chosen scoobies? Why was she mounted to the very spot she stood for the past three nights, waiting? Waiting, with an overwhelming sense of empty loss and grief.
Faith hadn't known any of those who'd perished for very long. Hell, she didn't even know Buffy and her friendly little cavalcade very much longer either, when you boiled it down, but that didn't matter really. The dead still demanded the same stoic attention. They cried out for her respectful and even awed memories of them for their bravery and sacrifice. Because that's what it had been, really. In the end, it wasn't a slip in battle or a blind side that had saved them all; it had been selfless sacrifice.
Maybe the scoobies saw it as the proper and deserved outcome-the fantasy where good always triumphs over evil in the end-but Faith knew better. Darkness was a powerful force to grapple with, a seductive release that was so easy to lose yourself in. Evil was the proverbial stranger with candy, beckoning the wounded children in with fat open arms. The others didn't seem to get that. Not really. Sure, they'd all tasted a little at one time or another, a moment, maybe even several, but who didn't these days? But to bathe in the darkness that evil wields and completely swallowed by its embrace? Only one of them ever really understood, and he was part of the dust that settled now, over the ruins.
Spike. the thought stirred emotion deep inside, knotting her stomach and forcing a lump in her throat. He had been the greatest sacrifice. He'd made the choice that had saved them all. The only one that had understood the true price of forgiveness-- the price of triumph that the others always seemed to take for granted.
And so, Faith waited. She drew her arms up around herself to keep back the chill that bit through the air of the night breeze. She waited for the ever-present miracle that always seemed to be granted to Buffy and her heroic friends. She waited for the shining aura-like glow to bloom and the dust to swirl into a familiar white-blonde lanky form and settle into solid flesh again, or for Spike to drop from the heavens that would open up before her. The Powers That Be owed her that much. Part of her knew it was a vain pipedream.
Darkness and Evil didn't get granted miracles and second chances. At least, not when the scorecard was still stilted too far in the wrong end of the spectrum. She knew it, but she also knew she deserved to be heard.
"Doesn't it count for something!?" Faith shouted, her voice echoing in the vastness of the collapsed town's spans. "Doesn't it matter that we changed and fought by their side? So what if it was selfish to start out? It was for the good and the stupid clouds and rainbows and utter crap you feed us into believing that's what good is! Well, I've never seen a rainbow that didn't turn out to be a filthy oil slick!"
She gasped and continued, "So prove me wrong, you bastards! You brought Buffy back. You promise whatever to Angel. You brought back Robin--- but so what? Why do you take away everyone who ever understood? Why do I have to bear this-this redemption in this hell alone?"
Faith's chest heaved at the impassioned effort of her demand, fists clenched, knuckles white with the strain. She again waited-expecting an answer. Expecting something, anything.
After about fifteen minutes of silence she laughed bitterly, "You Powers That Be really are a bunch of royal self-righteous asses, you know that? Some of us just can never seem to catch a break. What do you want? Blood?"
Drawing out a blade she slid the edge of the silver steel across her palm, "Here's my blood! You want devotion?"
Her voice shook with the barely leashed threat of tears, "Then here's the cosmic laugh riot. I've been here in this spot for three days because I loved him, and you, fucks, in your huge party home edition of Life, thought love triangles and hate would be a great new rule. I get it-no cars full of pink and blue children, just the Go Directly to Jail, don't pass "GO" don't collect two hundred dollars. Well I want him back, you hear me!? Give me one thing to live for-even if he hates me." Faith's voice broke then and she crumbled to her knees, where she beat her fists raw against the earth.
".please." she whispered, and finally the tears came. The anger, rage, the grief-it all came pouring out of the tortured slayer on the ground. "Why can't someone love me? Why can't I know what it's like? Why do you make it hurt so much-you took it away! You took away my chance---my understanding-my salvation! Spike."
Faith lay still finally, exhausted by the emotions passing through her. No one could hope to grasp it all really-how could they? There had been other moments shared between she and the vampire that no one had seen or heard, moments of respectful understanding, commiseration, and just innocent friendship. Spike had been her one true and only friend-no questions asked, no hang-ups, no reservations. That was part of why she loved him. He didn't try to save her, like Angel. Spike was just like her, in a way. He wanted to stand beside her and prove he was good just as much as she did without being lost in the shadow of Angel. Like she had been cast in the shadow of Buffy. Faith had never had anyone like her for who she was before Spike, and now, that kindred spirit was gone.
Letting her wet cheek remain pressed against the sodden earth, she closed her eyes and begged for anyone to listen, "Please. I can't do this alone."
-Fin
Faith stood at the edge of the crater that had once been Sunnydale, California staring out into the vast pit of rubble. She watched as the dust that had begun to only now-three days afterward-to settle. So many wrongs were buried beneath the broken pieces of slate, granite, and two-by- fours. So many sins and nasty, spiteful, moments of her past-all lain to rest and gone.
She was supposed to be a hero now. A champion. Or so Buffy Summers and her friends would have her believe. Then why didn't she feel like one? Where was the wave of relief and happiness that was supposed to wash over her, baptizing Faith as the few, the proud, chosen scoobies? Why was she mounted to the very spot she stood for the past three nights, waiting? Waiting, with an overwhelming sense of empty loss and grief.
Faith hadn't known any of those who'd perished for very long. Hell, she didn't even know Buffy and her friendly little cavalcade very much longer either, when you boiled it down, but that didn't matter really. The dead still demanded the same stoic attention. They cried out for her respectful and even awed memories of them for their bravery and sacrifice. Because that's what it had been, really. In the end, it wasn't a slip in battle or a blind side that had saved them all; it had been selfless sacrifice.
Maybe the scoobies saw it as the proper and deserved outcome-the fantasy where good always triumphs over evil in the end-but Faith knew better. Darkness was a powerful force to grapple with, a seductive release that was so easy to lose yourself in. Evil was the proverbial stranger with candy, beckoning the wounded children in with fat open arms. The others didn't seem to get that. Not really. Sure, they'd all tasted a little at one time or another, a moment, maybe even several, but who didn't these days? But to bathe in the darkness that evil wields and completely swallowed by its embrace? Only one of them ever really understood, and he was part of the dust that settled now, over the ruins.
Spike. the thought stirred emotion deep inside, knotting her stomach and forcing a lump in her throat. He had been the greatest sacrifice. He'd made the choice that had saved them all. The only one that had understood the true price of forgiveness-- the price of triumph that the others always seemed to take for granted.
And so, Faith waited. She drew her arms up around herself to keep back the chill that bit through the air of the night breeze. She waited for the ever-present miracle that always seemed to be granted to Buffy and her heroic friends. She waited for the shining aura-like glow to bloom and the dust to swirl into a familiar white-blonde lanky form and settle into solid flesh again, or for Spike to drop from the heavens that would open up before her. The Powers That Be owed her that much. Part of her knew it was a vain pipedream.
Darkness and Evil didn't get granted miracles and second chances. At least, not when the scorecard was still stilted too far in the wrong end of the spectrum. She knew it, but she also knew she deserved to be heard.
"Doesn't it count for something!?" Faith shouted, her voice echoing in the vastness of the collapsed town's spans. "Doesn't it matter that we changed and fought by their side? So what if it was selfish to start out? It was for the good and the stupid clouds and rainbows and utter crap you feed us into believing that's what good is! Well, I've never seen a rainbow that didn't turn out to be a filthy oil slick!"
She gasped and continued, "So prove me wrong, you bastards! You brought Buffy back. You promise whatever to Angel. You brought back Robin--- but so what? Why do you take away everyone who ever understood? Why do I have to bear this-this redemption in this hell alone?"
Faith's chest heaved at the impassioned effort of her demand, fists clenched, knuckles white with the strain. She again waited-expecting an answer. Expecting something, anything.
After about fifteen minutes of silence she laughed bitterly, "You Powers That Be really are a bunch of royal self-righteous asses, you know that? Some of us just can never seem to catch a break. What do you want? Blood?"
Drawing out a blade she slid the edge of the silver steel across her palm, "Here's my blood! You want devotion?"
Her voice shook with the barely leashed threat of tears, "Then here's the cosmic laugh riot. I've been here in this spot for three days because I loved him, and you, fucks, in your huge party home edition of Life, thought love triangles and hate would be a great new rule. I get it-no cars full of pink and blue children, just the Go Directly to Jail, don't pass "GO" don't collect two hundred dollars. Well I want him back, you hear me!? Give me one thing to live for-even if he hates me." Faith's voice broke then and she crumbled to her knees, where she beat her fists raw against the earth.
".please." she whispered, and finally the tears came. The anger, rage, the grief-it all came pouring out of the tortured slayer on the ground. "Why can't someone love me? Why can't I know what it's like? Why do you make it hurt so much-you took it away! You took away my chance---my understanding-my salvation! Spike."
Faith lay still finally, exhausted by the emotions passing through her. No one could hope to grasp it all really-how could they? There had been other moments shared between she and the vampire that no one had seen or heard, moments of respectful understanding, commiseration, and just innocent friendship. Spike had been her one true and only friend-no questions asked, no hang-ups, no reservations. That was part of why she loved him. He didn't try to save her, like Angel. Spike was just like her, in a way. He wanted to stand beside her and prove he was good just as much as she did without being lost in the shadow of Angel. Like she had been cast in the shadow of Buffy. Faith had never had anyone like her for who she was before Spike, and now, that kindred spirit was gone.
Letting her wet cheek remain pressed against the sodden earth, she closed her eyes and begged for anyone to listen, "Please. I can't do this alone."
-Fin