Author: Asrai
E-Mail: ikh@haefft.de
Rating: R
Summary: What if Buffy was the screwed up one?
Spoilers: General spoilers for Btvs seasons 1 - 3
Disclaimers: I don't own Btvs nor do I make any money out of this; no copyright infringement is intended.
Chapter 16 - Flames
*Buffy seriously considered just turning around and leaving before Thomas had the chance to open the door. She'd actually taken a few steps in direction of the staircase when the key rattled in the lock and the sleepy face of her watcher appeared.
"Buffy? What is it?" he mumbled, "What time is it?"
"Too late to disturb you. Sorry. I- I'll just go now and you go back to sleep and-"
"Bloody hell, what happened to you?" Thomas exclaimed, taking in her messy appearance. Buffy's skirt and pants were torn in several places and stained by mud and blood, as was her face. Not to mention the fact that she was carrying a large duffel bag over her shoulder.
Buffy hesitated, "You see, there was this demon- what was his name again, bagel or something."
"Cagel."
"Anyway, he was rather grouchy when I wanted to kill him. Hence the ruining my clothes before I chopped him to pieces."
"Didn't I tell you to wait until the new moon? That's when they're at their weakest and easy to kill. I even remember specifically telling you not to search it out."
"Yeah. It's dead now, so who cares? The bad part is that my mother saw me sneaking in through the window. She was drunk and, to make a short story even shorter, kicked me out. Complete with curses what'll happen if I even step under her eyes again. So I kinda need a place to crash, just for the night and as I'm not Miss Popular and the bridge looking rather uncomfy."
Thomas held the door wide open and took the bag out of Buffy's hand. He smiled.
"You can stay as long as you want to."*
~~~
We're not driving in the direction of their school and I look around me and ask them where we're going.
Oz looks shortly at me, then back on the street, "To Giles's house."
"Why?"
"Because the library's not usable anymore."
"What?"
"Well, Buffy." Willow says hesitantly, "You see, there's been, like this huge attack of vamps at the library and there was a lot of torching and burning stuff down and now it's closed down. Snyder threw a fit. There's not a lot to save in there anymore. Poor Giles almost had a nervous breakdown. We think he's rubbed his glasses clear through now."
"That's."
"Bad," Oz supplies the word for me.
I nod, "Is anyone hurt?"
"Giles has a few burns and Cordelia says the psychological damage done to her is irreparable 'cause her make-up bag was burned," Willow says, "But. Buffy, Faith's brother is dead."
"What!" I stare at her, open-mouthed. My hearing's gone wonky, that must be it. Post-traumatic stress disorder or something like that. Although the trauma's still kind of going on, but I can't have heard right, 'cause she said.
"Yes," she whispers.
"B-but how? When I asked Giles he said that they were in hospital, but not. they weren't dying! I mean, he's a kid, they're strong and much too stubborn to die!"
Oz shakes his head, "He was too weak. He got beat up by the vamps because he tried to defend his mom, but he hasn't got any special powers like Faith- and he's lost too much blood, the doctor's said."
I close my eyes, lean back in my seat and sigh.
The rest of the ride is spent in silence and I'm glad as Oz stops his van before a house that must be Giles's and I hastily get out and take a deep breath.
This is a nightmare. Faith's bro- dead. Dead. And Angel killed him; he was responsible for this; he's responsible for ripping us all apart and I bet he does it with a smile on his face.
Cold fury fills me; I could understand if he'd have fun torturing me but so far he hasn't laid a hand on me, at least not in a way that would really harm me. But he killed Jenny's uncle and he killed Faith's brother and, as Willow would point out, he killed her goldfish. He's playing with us all and it's probably his idea of fun.
Fuck you, Angel, this has gone too far. I'll get you and if it's the last thing I do in this miserable world. I ball my hands into fist and follow Oz and Willow inside.
They're all perched around the couch table, which is buried under books; some of them are singed or half-burned, I see. My gaze flies to Faith and she looks like. well, if hell had a face, hers would be it. Her hair's tousled like a rat slept in there and her eyes seem huge and like black pits; there's rings under them, of course, and her whole face is pale, a sickly white color. Her lips are dry and cracked and I wonder if there's any blood left in them.
Jenny, with her head on Giles's shoulder again speaks without greeting, "We've found the curse that will Angel give back his soul."
"Oh," I whisper and unclench my hands. Whatever I expected when Willow and Oz came into my crypt, this wasn't it. I'd thought more along the lines of "The world's about to end, want to join the party?".
"B-buffy, we, um, need Faith and you to provide a distraction for Angel," Giles looks at me seriously and for a bizarre moment his manner and voice remind me so much of Thomas that I must be gaping at him. This is so like the night before I fought Lothos, before this whole disaster began; I swallow forcefully and fumble in my pockets for a gum. I gotta have one left.
"We think it's better if he's occupied while Jenny and Willow curse him," Faith says and her voice sounds so hollow that I want to shake her and scream at her to snap out of it. That's not my sister slayer, that's a wreck, why can't the others see it? Faith doesn't need this right now, what she needs is rest and her brother; but he's never coming back and it seems that the sparkly, butt-kicking part of Faith, that part that's kept her alive has gone with him. She looks like the Faith in that first photo I saw of her and I'm scared.
Scared for her and scared for myself.
"Y-yes, we don't want Angel to consciously fight the curse," Giles says, "And that way you can bring him back if we are successful."
The 'if' hangs in the air and it weighs heavy on my heart. 'If' seems to say that there's a lot of things that can go wrong.
"How did you find it?" I croak but the real question I wanted to ask is 'Why? Why now?' Why now when I've barely gotten my act together?
"Jenny found it. she contacted her tribe and then translated it," Willow explains.
I nod uncertainly, "So, that's. that's all? We go have some fun with evil Angelus and then suddenly it's 'Poof!' and he's all souled up again?"
"Basically, yes."
A thought strikes me, "What about his memories? Will he remember all that stuff he did?"
Silence. Faith looks down and presses her lips together. I got the answer. I try to unwrap the gum I found in a pocket of my pants but my hands shake so badly that I drop it. Oz picks it up for me and unwraps it slowly. I accept it, suddenly grateful that he's here.
"And," I don't really want to know the answer to this either, "Will his soul be safe then? Or is the clause still there?"
"Why's this so important?" Xander bursts out suddenly, "So you can get groin-y again?"
"Xander!" Willow exclaims, but he looks stubborn and glares defiantly at me.
"Never mind," I say, "I'll take a page out of your book, comic relief, and go get some fresh air. You coming, sis'?" I call back over my shoulder. Faith rises unsteadily, smiles a horrible fake smile at the room and follows me out of the door.
I wait for her and as she closes the door behind her, ask, "Where is Angel anyway? I thought you all didn't know:"
Faith shrugs, "Will found a spell that would point out the location of anybody if you have something that once belonged to him. He gave me a jacket once, so. he's staying in that big, deserted mansion at Crawford Street."
I nod; I've seen it a couple of times when I patrolled nearby. Faith falls into stride beside me and so we walk through SunnyD and I have the sinking feeling that this is the last time I'll ever see her, as if she's somehow slipping away from me and I can't do anything but watch. And I don't want that 'cause for a little while at least she was family, she was my sister and best friend and now it hurts me to look at her 'cause she just seems to be a shadow of that girl I was so sure to know well.
"I'm sorry about your little brother," I say softly and I wish that my voice wouldn't sound so harsh and so dishonest. It's not made for comforting words and that sentence sounds phony; I want to bite my tongue the same moment the words leave my mouth.
"No, you're not," Faith snaps, "You're probably glad he's kicked the bucket. Don't pretend to be something you're not."
I'm speechless for a moment; that was. harsh. I open my mouth to defend myself but she just glares at me like I'm something squishy under her shoes, "Just shut up, okay? I don't want to talk about it and even if I did, the last person on earth I'd come running to would be you."
Whoa, she's feisty. And pissed off. I know that look and I know that voice; it's Faith's method of swimming in the river called Denial. I know it, 'cause it's my method, too, to lash out and hurt everybody around you. It let's you forget your own pain and you feel better if you're stomping on another person's ego than to deal with your own fucked up mess.
I say nothing for a while until, "Do you think it's right?"
"What's right?"
"Cursing Angel again."
Faith stops dead and stares at me, "Are you out of your mind? Of course it's right!"
"Are you sure?" I press on, "'Cause me, I'm not. I mean," I drop my gaze, "I wouldn't want to live with the guilt. It'd be too hard, I think."
"Well, Angel's not like that," my sister slayer hisses, "He's stronger than that. He wants his soul back and he'll be five by five!"
"Really? Would you. I mean, would you want to live with the memory of snacking on dozens of people? Of killing them?"
"That wasn't him!" Faith almost screams now and I raise my hands.
"Don't tell me; tell him. I know it wasn't him, but he's gotta live with the memory of what he did. You know Angel better than I do, sis'! Do you think he'll see this as a walk in the park and go on like nothing happened? Do you think he'll do that? I'm just asking if it's fair for us to damn him to even more pain."
"It's not your decision!" she really screams now, " Angel's my friend! I want to help him and you should be happy to get your boyfriend back!"
"This isn't about me, this is about Angel! Do you think he can live with the guilt of killing your bro? D'you really believe that?"
"Leave him out of it," Faith snarls; there's something feral in her look now and provoking her perhaps wasn't the brightest idea I've ever had.
"No," I hiss back, "I want you to stop working on autopilot and start to be you again! Angel killed your brother, Faith. Little David, who played football and like to watch The Simpsons! And Angel knew him better than I did. I bet David adored him, didn't he? Like some kind of big brother-"
Faith lets out a scream and before I can react, she punches me right in the face. I stumble and take a few steps back; rubbing my face I say, "Youch. Man, you have a mean punch, I gotta say."
"Shut up! Shut up, do you hear me? You've no right to talk like that! It's you who started this mess and you're making it worse, it's your fault! It's your fault-" she breaks off and pants.
I don't know what to do and so I just look at her; her face is a grimace of hate and pain and I wish I could this all away from her.
"It's your fault," she whispers barely audible, "If you hadn't slept with Angel then he'd still be. he'd still be. I wish you'd never come to Sunnydale, Buffy."
My head snaps up and I can't help but be hurt by that remark. Faith notices and smirks bitterly, "Hit a sore spot? Truth hurts. I wish you'd never come here. You should have stayed in LA, but no, instead you come here and screw it all up. Angel's life. My life. You got your watcher killed, didn't you? Seems you're good at that, destroying other people's lives."
"Stop it," I say and feel myself starting to tremble. Yeah, she's mad now and probably doesn't know what she's saying, but this- this goes too far. She's wrong, she's wrong and her words hurt so much 'cause I secretly believe the same thing. Faith just pulled out all my little fears out by their hair, kicking and screaming, and speaking them out loud makes everything so much worse.
"Why? I'm right, aren't I? You're just too scared to admit it. It's your fault and now you're a coward who thinks that killing her ex is better than dealing with it!"
"Stop it!" I scream, "Stop it, you're nuts!"
"No, I'm not," Faith murmurs and she sounds almost amused, "Seems it's you who can't deal with reality after all. Poor Buffy-"
Something inside me snaps; and while Faith lets out her pent up anger with words, I'm much more one for the direct approach. So I punch her. Hard. So hard, in fact, that she almost falls, but catches herself at the last moment. She smiles, and then she bares her teeth, flings herself at me and the fight is on.
Faith fights like a madman, like someone who's possessed and driven by sheer hate, not even necessarily at me. She seems to have forgotten where we are and even who I am and her eyes shine brightly in the night. We pummel each other like we're fighting for our lives, and I a way we are; Faith for the live she's lost and me for the one I never had.
Attack, block, counter-attack; we're both slayers and we've trained with each other before; one is just as strong as the other. Soon I'm exhausted and sweat breaks out all over my body; but she just keeps attacking, attacking, attacking and I want her to stop and I scream her name but she doesn't listen. I'm not sure if she even hears me.
I can see now that there's tears running down her cheeks and that's why her eyes shine so bright, but I notice that at the same moment I notice a chance to end this fight and so I duck and then jump and break through her defenses and hit her with all my power. There's something wet in my eyes and I blink rapidly as I see Faith lying unconscious on the ground and I realize that it's tears when I kneel down next to her and stroke her hair.
My nose is running and I don't have a Kleenex 'cause I haven't cried for ages- I never cry 'cause I'm strong and I think it's written down somewhere that strong girls don't cry- and so I just sit down for a moment and let out a huge sob.
"I'm sorry, sis'," I say, hiccupping, "I'm sorry, I didn't want this," and I stroke her head and she groans a little; I think she'll wake up soon with the mother of all headaches. I stand up quickly and wipe angrily at my eyes. My fingers are wet and my eyes are a bit swollen; I cried but I feel strangely better now.
With a last glance at Faith's prone body, I turn around and run.
~~~
He's sitting in front of the cold, dark fireplace and I think he expected me somehow; the mansion's empty, no minions or anything, just him and me.
He rises gracefully as he catches my sight. Gesturing to the two gleaming swords on the table, he bows before me and smiles, revealing his teeth.
"Welcome, lover."
E-Mail: ikh@haefft.de
Rating: R
Summary: What if Buffy was the screwed up one?
Spoilers: General spoilers for Btvs seasons 1 - 3
Disclaimers: I don't own Btvs nor do I make any money out of this; no copyright infringement is intended.
Chapter 16 - Flames
*Buffy seriously considered just turning around and leaving before Thomas had the chance to open the door. She'd actually taken a few steps in direction of the staircase when the key rattled in the lock and the sleepy face of her watcher appeared.
"Buffy? What is it?" he mumbled, "What time is it?"
"Too late to disturb you. Sorry. I- I'll just go now and you go back to sleep and-"
"Bloody hell, what happened to you?" Thomas exclaimed, taking in her messy appearance. Buffy's skirt and pants were torn in several places and stained by mud and blood, as was her face. Not to mention the fact that she was carrying a large duffel bag over her shoulder.
Buffy hesitated, "You see, there was this demon- what was his name again, bagel or something."
"Cagel."
"Anyway, he was rather grouchy when I wanted to kill him. Hence the ruining my clothes before I chopped him to pieces."
"Didn't I tell you to wait until the new moon? That's when they're at their weakest and easy to kill. I even remember specifically telling you not to search it out."
"Yeah. It's dead now, so who cares? The bad part is that my mother saw me sneaking in through the window. She was drunk and, to make a short story even shorter, kicked me out. Complete with curses what'll happen if I even step under her eyes again. So I kinda need a place to crash, just for the night and as I'm not Miss Popular and the bridge looking rather uncomfy."
Thomas held the door wide open and took the bag out of Buffy's hand. He smiled.
"You can stay as long as you want to."*
~~~
We're not driving in the direction of their school and I look around me and ask them where we're going.
Oz looks shortly at me, then back on the street, "To Giles's house."
"Why?"
"Because the library's not usable anymore."
"What?"
"Well, Buffy." Willow says hesitantly, "You see, there's been, like this huge attack of vamps at the library and there was a lot of torching and burning stuff down and now it's closed down. Snyder threw a fit. There's not a lot to save in there anymore. Poor Giles almost had a nervous breakdown. We think he's rubbed his glasses clear through now."
"That's."
"Bad," Oz supplies the word for me.
I nod, "Is anyone hurt?"
"Giles has a few burns and Cordelia says the psychological damage done to her is irreparable 'cause her make-up bag was burned," Willow says, "But. Buffy, Faith's brother is dead."
"What!" I stare at her, open-mouthed. My hearing's gone wonky, that must be it. Post-traumatic stress disorder or something like that. Although the trauma's still kind of going on, but I can't have heard right, 'cause she said.
"Yes," she whispers.
"B-but how? When I asked Giles he said that they were in hospital, but not. they weren't dying! I mean, he's a kid, they're strong and much too stubborn to die!"
Oz shakes his head, "He was too weak. He got beat up by the vamps because he tried to defend his mom, but he hasn't got any special powers like Faith- and he's lost too much blood, the doctor's said."
I close my eyes, lean back in my seat and sigh.
The rest of the ride is spent in silence and I'm glad as Oz stops his van before a house that must be Giles's and I hastily get out and take a deep breath.
This is a nightmare. Faith's bro- dead. Dead. And Angel killed him; he was responsible for this; he's responsible for ripping us all apart and I bet he does it with a smile on his face.
Cold fury fills me; I could understand if he'd have fun torturing me but so far he hasn't laid a hand on me, at least not in a way that would really harm me. But he killed Jenny's uncle and he killed Faith's brother and, as Willow would point out, he killed her goldfish. He's playing with us all and it's probably his idea of fun.
Fuck you, Angel, this has gone too far. I'll get you and if it's the last thing I do in this miserable world. I ball my hands into fist and follow Oz and Willow inside.
They're all perched around the couch table, which is buried under books; some of them are singed or half-burned, I see. My gaze flies to Faith and she looks like. well, if hell had a face, hers would be it. Her hair's tousled like a rat slept in there and her eyes seem huge and like black pits; there's rings under them, of course, and her whole face is pale, a sickly white color. Her lips are dry and cracked and I wonder if there's any blood left in them.
Jenny, with her head on Giles's shoulder again speaks without greeting, "We've found the curse that will Angel give back his soul."
"Oh," I whisper and unclench my hands. Whatever I expected when Willow and Oz came into my crypt, this wasn't it. I'd thought more along the lines of "The world's about to end, want to join the party?".
"B-buffy, we, um, need Faith and you to provide a distraction for Angel," Giles looks at me seriously and for a bizarre moment his manner and voice remind me so much of Thomas that I must be gaping at him. This is so like the night before I fought Lothos, before this whole disaster began; I swallow forcefully and fumble in my pockets for a gum. I gotta have one left.
"We think it's better if he's occupied while Jenny and Willow curse him," Faith says and her voice sounds so hollow that I want to shake her and scream at her to snap out of it. That's not my sister slayer, that's a wreck, why can't the others see it? Faith doesn't need this right now, what she needs is rest and her brother; but he's never coming back and it seems that the sparkly, butt-kicking part of Faith, that part that's kept her alive has gone with him. She looks like the Faith in that first photo I saw of her and I'm scared.
Scared for her and scared for myself.
"Y-yes, we don't want Angel to consciously fight the curse," Giles says, "And that way you can bring him back if we are successful."
The 'if' hangs in the air and it weighs heavy on my heart. 'If' seems to say that there's a lot of things that can go wrong.
"How did you find it?" I croak but the real question I wanted to ask is 'Why? Why now?' Why now when I've barely gotten my act together?
"Jenny found it. she contacted her tribe and then translated it," Willow explains.
I nod uncertainly, "So, that's. that's all? We go have some fun with evil Angelus and then suddenly it's 'Poof!' and he's all souled up again?"
"Basically, yes."
A thought strikes me, "What about his memories? Will he remember all that stuff he did?"
Silence. Faith looks down and presses her lips together. I got the answer. I try to unwrap the gum I found in a pocket of my pants but my hands shake so badly that I drop it. Oz picks it up for me and unwraps it slowly. I accept it, suddenly grateful that he's here.
"And," I don't really want to know the answer to this either, "Will his soul be safe then? Or is the clause still there?"
"Why's this so important?" Xander bursts out suddenly, "So you can get groin-y again?"
"Xander!" Willow exclaims, but he looks stubborn and glares defiantly at me.
"Never mind," I say, "I'll take a page out of your book, comic relief, and go get some fresh air. You coming, sis'?" I call back over my shoulder. Faith rises unsteadily, smiles a horrible fake smile at the room and follows me out of the door.
I wait for her and as she closes the door behind her, ask, "Where is Angel anyway? I thought you all didn't know:"
Faith shrugs, "Will found a spell that would point out the location of anybody if you have something that once belonged to him. He gave me a jacket once, so. he's staying in that big, deserted mansion at Crawford Street."
I nod; I've seen it a couple of times when I patrolled nearby. Faith falls into stride beside me and so we walk through SunnyD and I have the sinking feeling that this is the last time I'll ever see her, as if she's somehow slipping away from me and I can't do anything but watch. And I don't want that 'cause for a little while at least she was family, she was my sister and best friend and now it hurts me to look at her 'cause she just seems to be a shadow of that girl I was so sure to know well.
"I'm sorry about your little brother," I say softly and I wish that my voice wouldn't sound so harsh and so dishonest. It's not made for comforting words and that sentence sounds phony; I want to bite my tongue the same moment the words leave my mouth.
"No, you're not," Faith snaps, "You're probably glad he's kicked the bucket. Don't pretend to be something you're not."
I'm speechless for a moment; that was. harsh. I open my mouth to defend myself but she just glares at me like I'm something squishy under her shoes, "Just shut up, okay? I don't want to talk about it and even if I did, the last person on earth I'd come running to would be you."
Whoa, she's feisty. And pissed off. I know that look and I know that voice; it's Faith's method of swimming in the river called Denial. I know it, 'cause it's my method, too, to lash out and hurt everybody around you. It let's you forget your own pain and you feel better if you're stomping on another person's ego than to deal with your own fucked up mess.
I say nothing for a while until, "Do you think it's right?"
"What's right?"
"Cursing Angel again."
Faith stops dead and stares at me, "Are you out of your mind? Of course it's right!"
"Are you sure?" I press on, "'Cause me, I'm not. I mean," I drop my gaze, "I wouldn't want to live with the guilt. It'd be too hard, I think."
"Well, Angel's not like that," my sister slayer hisses, "He's stronger than that. He wants his soul back and he'll be five by five!"
"Really? Would you. I mean, would you want to live with the memory of snacking on dozens of people? Of killing them?"
"That wasn't him!" Faith almost screams now and I raise my hands.
"Don't tell me; tell him. I know it wasn't him, but he's gotta live with the memory of what he did. You know Angel better than I do, sis'! Do you think he'll see this as a walk in the park and go on like nothing happened? Do you think he'll do that? I'm just asking if it's fair for us to damn him to even more pain."
"It's not your decision!" she really screams now, " Angel's my friend! I want to help him and you should be happy to get your boyfriend back!"
"This isn't about me, this is about Angel! Do you think he can live with the guilt of killing your bro? D'you really believe that?"
"Leave him out of it," Faith snarls; there's something feral in her look now and provoking her perhaps wasn't the brightest idea I've ever had.
"No," I hiss back, "I want you to stop working on autopilot and start to be you again! Angel killed your brother, Faith. Little David, who played football and like to watch The Simpsons! And Angel knew him better than I did. I bet David adored him, didn't he? Like some kind of big brother-"
Faith lets out a scream and before I can react, she punches me right in the face. I stumble and take a few steps back; rubbing my face I say, "Youch. Man, you have a mean punch, I gotta say."
"Shut up! Shut up, do you hear me? You've no right to talk like that! It's you who started this mess and you're making it worse, it's your fault! It's your fault-" she breaks off and pants.
I don't know what to do and so I just look at her; her face is a grimace of hate and pain and I wish I could this all away from her.
"It's your fault," she whispers barely audible, "If you hadn't slept with Angel then he'd still be. he'd still be. I wish you'd never come to Sunnydale, Buffy."
My head snaps up and I can't help but be hurt by that remark. Faith notices and smirks bitterly, "Hit a sore spot? Truth hurts. I wish you'd never come here. You should have stayed in LA, but no, instead you come here and screw it all up. Angel's life. My life. You got your watcher killed, didn't you? Seems you're good at that, destroying other people's lives."
"Stop it," I say and feel myself starting to tremble. Yeah, she's mad now and probably doesn't know what she's saying, but this- this goes too far. She's wrong, she's wrong and her words hurt so much 'cause I secretly believe the same thing. Faith just pulled out all my little fears out by their hair, kicking and screaming, and speaking them out loud makes everything so much worse.
"Why? I'm right, aren't I? You're just too scared to admit it. It's your fault and now you're a coward who thinks that killing her ex is better than dealing with it!"
"Stop it!" I scream, "Stop it, you're nuts!"
"No, I'm not," Faith murmurs and she sounds almost amused, "Seems it's you who can't deal with reality after all. Poor Buffy-"
Something inside me snaps; and while Faith lets out her pent up anger with words, I'm much more one for the direct approach. So I punch her. Hard. So hard, in fact, that she almost falls, but catches herself at the last moment. She smiles, and then she bares her teeth, flings herself at me and the fight is on.
Faith fights like a madman, like someone who's possessed and driven by sheer hate, not even necessarily at me. She seems to have forgotten where we are and even who I am and her eyes shine brightly in the night. We pummel each other like we're fighting for our lives, and I a way we are; Faith for the live she's lost and me for the one I never had.
Attack, block, counter-attack; we're both slayers and we've trained with each other before; one is just as strong as the other. Soon I'm exhausted and sweat breaks out all over my body; but she just keeps attacking, attacking, attacking and I want her to stop and I scream her name but she doesn't listen. I'm not sure if she even hears me.
I can see now that there's tears running down her cheeks and that's why her eyes shine so bright, but I notice that at the same moment I notice a chance to end this fight and so I duck and then jump and break through her defenses and hit her with all my power. There's something wet in my eyes and I blink rapidly as I see Faith lying unconscious on the ground and I realize that it's tears when I kneel down next to her and stroke her hair.
My nose is running and I don't have a Kleenex 'cause I haven't cried for ages- I never cry 'cause I'm strong and I think it's written down somewhere that strong girls don't cry- and so I just sit down for a moment and let out a huge sob.
"I'm sorry, sis'," I say, hiccupping, "I'm sorry, I didn't want this," and I stroke her head and she groans a little; I think she'll wake up soon with the mother of all headaches. I stand up quickly and wipe angrily at my eyes. My fingers are wet and my eyes are a bit swollen; I cried but I feel strangely better now.
With a last glance at Faith's prone body, I turn around and run.
~~~
He's sitting in front of the cold, dark fireplace and I think he expected me somehow; the mansion's empty, no minions or anything, just him and me.
He rises gracefully as he catches my sight. Gesturing to the two gleaming swords on the table, he bows before me and smiles, revealing his teeth.
"Welcome, lover."