CHAPTER TWO - FAITH

Though I've tried I've fallen
I have sunk so low
I messed up
Better I should know
So don't come round here and
Tell me I told you so

I was shocked when Buffy wanted me along. I knew she had to be humiliated after the big fight with Willow and Xander. Those two should just learn to butt out. I wished I knew what I was doing. We were both kinda hoping we could lean on each other just a little, give each other the strength to do this.

I knew what seeing Angel and Spike was going to cost Buffy. For me, Angel was pretty much cost free. He and I were five by five. I just wanted to say thanks once more. It was Wes I was afraid of  seeing. We had gotten on so well after he busted me out of jail it was easy to forget what I had done to him. The world was ending in darkness and there was no time to hash out all the shit I had put him through. I left for Sunnydale so fast there hadn't been time afterwards, either. I owed it to him to admit to my sins and ask for forgiveness. Boy, with thoughts like that, you'd think I had been raised Catholic. Maybe it was catching. I'd bet Angel had been Catholic way back when.

I still couldn't believe they're working Wolfram and Hart, though. I filled Buffy in on all the evil shit I knew the firm had done during our flight. It helped. We both had something to concentrate on during the long plane ride other than our fears. Buffy seemed more confused than I was at it all. We were operating under the theory maybe a brain-sucker had gotten hold of Angel and his friends because that's about the only thing that made sense.

When we got to Wolfram and Hart, Angel wasn't there. I told Buffy we should at least tell someone we were coming but she insisted there was no time. No doubt she was right. The Council, such as it was, would have been pissed we didn't clear it with them first.  Fred showed us to some rooms that the firm keeps for visiting clients and not a moment too soon. After finding Angel's office we both nearly staked Harmony before Fred showed up, stopped us and told us Angel was out playing in the sewers or whatever a vampire does in the day if he's not sleeping. I mean, who would have guessed Angel was dumb enough to hire Harmony? I think Buffy still wants to go back and do it just for all the crap Harmony pulled on her back in school. Who am I to stop her?

After taking us to our rooms, Fred directed Buffy to the last known location of phantom Spike. I sucked it up and headed for the library in search of Wesley. He was alone and I couldn't be more thankful for that. It spared me having to lead him away to have a private talk. I would have gotten too nervous. He nearly dropped the stack of books he had been carrying when he saw me. He flung them haphazardly onto a desk with a loud bang and jogged over to hug me. It wasn't the reaction I was expecting, so informal, so unlike him. We both held on a little too long, no passion there, just pain. He was hurting. I could almost taste it.

"Whatever are you doing here, Faith?" he asked, sitting one skinny butt cheek up on the desk, propping himself up with the other leg.

"Buffy and I had some unfinished business here," I said, trying to remain light. Instead, I felt the tears coming, barely able to stop them. Still, my eyes must have been red and cloudy because Wes' face went pale and he got up off the desk to take my arm.

"What's wrong, Faith?" The concern in his voice sapped all my emotional strength.

"I wanted to say I am sorry." My voice was so thick and husky I'm not sure he could even understand what I rasped out. The tears wouldn't be good and stay unshed. I felt Wes' arm go around me and he pulled me against him.

I buried my face against his stubbly neck. God, he was boney. Yeah, Faith, concentrate on that, anything to stop this ridiculous bout of girlishness. It didn't exactly work. I kept sobbing and he just tightened his arms around me, making it worse because he wasn't supposed to be this warm and caring. He should be laughing at my pain. I deserved it.

Instead, he just held me, whispering soft words that bounced off the shield of my sorrow. I shifted my face against him and saw a long scar on his neck. When the hell did he get that? I hadn't noticed it before but it was old, healed. He had to have had the scar when he busted me out of jail but who cut his throat for him? This was one tough man to have survived that and me, too. I wondered if he knew that. I managed to get my sniveling under control.

"I have something that'll make you feel better," Wes was saying, trying to steer me towards an inner door.

I let him lead me into his office. It was like jumping back across to England but it looked comfortable and homey, unlike the rest of this glass and steel monstrosity they called a law office. He even had honey-gold paneling and, of course, more books. On his desk was an electric tea kettle. A bubble of laughter ripped out of me. "You and Giles, is there nothing you think tea can't cure?" I pointed at the pot.

Wes smiled wryly as I dried my face. "There is nothing tea can't cure but I was thinking more along the lines of this." He went to one of the book shelves and picked up a crystal decanter filled with amber liquid and two glasses. He sat as his desk with it and I sat across from him. "It's only ten-year-old scotch but it's single malt. It should be serviceable."

"Thanks." I knew it wouldn't help to tell him as far as I was concerned, all scotch tasted the way I figured gasoline had to taste. It didn't matter. I'd drink just about anything. I took the glass from him and let the smoky scotch burn down my throat. A wave of warmth coursed out of my belly afterwards.

He took a sip then set the glass down, templing his long fingers. "Now, would you like to tell me what this is all about?"

I couldn't even look at him. I knew he'd be watching me with those big blue eyes of his. "I never said I was sorry."

"Sorry for...oh."

The sound in his voice drew my eyes to him. I couldn't miss that pain. I could only imagine the nightmares I had given him. "I know I can't actually say I'm sorry for what I did to you. You can't apologize for something like that, can't ever make it right."

"I'm not expecting you to." Wes knocked back the rest of his scotch and poured more.  Yeah, Faith, this is doing him a ton of good.  His eyes pierced into me. "I wanted you dead that night."

"I don't-" He held up a hand to silence me.

"But I trusted Angel to know what he was doing and that was hard. I wasn't used to putting full faith, if you'll forgive the choice of words, in someone else. However, Angel seemed confident you could be redeemed and if I could believe that a demon like him was capable and worthy than I had to believe it of you. That was why I tried to protect you from Special Ops. Though I am curious why you're here now. I would have thought my breaking you out of jail would have said it all."

That comment snapped me back to reality from which I had been retreating. He hadn't slipped that knife into my back because of Angel. I hadn't expected that. I always assumed he had just run out of the last of his strength before he got to me. "Yeah, it did say it all. You needed a weapon to fight Angelus and the Beast and you came to get one."

Wes splashed more scotch into my glass and I drank it greedily, heedless of the burn. "I suppose I should have realized you'd see it that way. Of course, that was certainly part of it but if I hadn't already forgiven you as much as I am able, I would have sent Cordelia to free you." His brow furrowed. "I'm glad I didn't do that given she was being controlled by the demonic child within her. She might have killed you in the car on the way back to L.A."

"She always did hate me." I rolled my shoulders. "Did you ever figure out whose demon kid she was carrying?"

Wes shook his head. "We figure either she was impregnated in the so-called higher realm, which was why she was taken there in the first place or perhaps it was Groo's."

"Groo?" What the hell kind of name was Groo?

"Long story." He reached out to me and covered my hand with his. He had big hands for such a skinny man. "Faith, I appreciate how hard it had to be to come here and face me. Consider your apology accepted and, Faith, I'm glad things are finally working out for you now. If I had done a better job in Sunnydale, all of this might not be necessary."

I was struck by the regret in his voice, the sadness. "Wes, when I blamed you for everything that happened to me, that was just all the rage in me bleeding out. You didn't..."

"Turn you into what you became? No, perhaps not. You've never really spoken about where you came from, Faith, not to me or Giles or even Buffy beyond a few cryptic remarks, enough to know that you came from a bad family," he interrupted.

"Understatement of the year," I muttered.

He ducked his head. "I understand what that's like."

My eyes narrowed. I could feel a sudden flare of anger burning in my cheeks. I hated when people tried to empathize with things they couldn't understand in a million years. "Really."

"My father used to beat me and my mother mercilessly on top of all the emotional abuse. I still wake up some nights in a cold sweat, dreaming about the time Mother got in between me and him when I was about ten. He punched out her teeth. I remember them lying on the carpeting like bloody bits of ivory." He swallowed hard and I wanted to say something but my tongue wouldn't work. "Nothing I ever did was right. I think that was why I was such an arrogant, self-righteous ponce when I came to Sunnydale. I had to prove to him I was better than he thought I could be and all I did was prove he was right about me."

"If he was right, you wouldn't be here now," I said, getting up to pace the room, glass in hand. It was easier to look at all the books than it was to see the pain in his eyes.

He smiled sadly. "Thank you. But there's no denying I was my own worst enemy in Sunnydale. I did nothing to help anyone. I honestly did think I was doing the right thing when I sent the Special Ops to bring you to London. We had people there that could have helped you. But I did it in the worst possible way and for no other reason than I wanted to be the one to save you, not Giles."

"I'm pretty sure by then it was too late for me, Wes, but I guess it did make it worse." I shrugged, leaning against a bookcase. "Or that's what I thought at the time. I did blame you but that's because it was easier than blaming me. I don't blame you any more," I said and knew then that it was true.

He took a sip of scotch, contemplating that then said, "Thank you."

"I met your father recently," I said. "I didn't like him much. He was ranting about your not coming back to the fold."

"I'm not surprised about either reaction. When I thought it was him who came here to ask me to help rebuild the Council, I felt like I was that scared little boy again and I hated it. Fred was so wrong. I had no idea it wasn't really my father when I shot him dead."

I saw the blue fire in his eyes, a rage I didn't know he had. "Wes, that thing was threatening to kill Fred. You did what you did to save her life."

"Perhaps. Still, I thought for sure I was killing my father and I was able to do so. It was terrifying. After it was over, I called England. He criticized me for calling at a bad hour of the day and proceeded to criticize every aspect of my life. Nothing had changed. I'm still the incompetent child in his eyes. Then the Council actually did ask him to ask me to come back, as if that thing pretending to be my father had a good idea. If they had really wanted me back, they'd have used anyone but him." Wes shuddered and I went over and grabbed his hand this time.

"I don't think they knew. They really did want you back. Giles was disappointed," I said.

Wes eased free of my grip to pour out third glasses for both of us. I sat back down. I was already feeling a little looped. I used to be able to drink with the best of them but a few dry years in jail and I seem to have lost my head for it. "Maybe I'll reconsider once things are a little less crazed here. I'll confess I'm feeling rather redundant at Wolfram and Hart. There's dozens of people who can do the research."

"I doubt Angel sees it that way, Wes," I said quickly. "He relies on you, trusts you probably more than anyone else."

"I wish I believed that, Faith. There's some kind of strain between us that didn't used to be there but I'll be damned if I know what it is," Wes confessed and I could see his pain over it. "But I'm staying here to help him, at least for now."

"I wish I knew why Angel wants to work for the law firm of evil." Might as well get someone else's point of view on this bit of weirdness. "Buffy and I thought it was kind of a dumb idea."

He shrugged. "I don't understand it myself. We do have a great wealth of resources here but we are expected to help some rather repugnant characters. I think mostly Angel is here because it was offered to him and he needs to know what Wolfram and Hart are up to. They wanted us here for a reason. I suspect it's to distract us from whatever else they're doing."

"So you're trying to find out and bring them down from the inside?" I asked rather skeptically.

"I suppose so." He glanced at the antique clock on his book shelf. "Angel should be back by now."

"B's probably still with Spike. I should go talk to Angel." I drained my scotch glass and stood up. The room spun. Damn if I wasn't a little drunk. "Thanks, Wes. You don't know what it means to me that you might not hate me."

He got up as well. "I don't hate you, Faith."

"Thanks. And Wes, fighting beside you against Angelus, that was...well, not fun but you know what I mean. You've gotten damn good at it," I said and he beamed. Impulsively, I kissed him lightly and escaped the room.

It took a moment to remember where Angel's office was. I hated this building. It was cold and heartless, just like most of the people working in it from what I remembered and I remembered a lot; like Lilah and Lindsey merrily watching me pulverize a co-worker with no concern other than how it effected their dinner plans. What was Angel doing here? I had more immediate concerns, like was I too drunk to talk to him now? I shouldn't have had that last glass.

Harmony took one look at me, started shaking and ran into the office. I followed her then stopped dead. Angel was staring out the enormous windows, sunlight pouring over him and he wasn't turning into a huge pile of ash.

"Boss man, there's someone to see you," Harmony babbled.

"Harmony, we've had this discussion. You use the intercom to tell me..." He trailed off as he turned around and saw me there. "Faith!"

"Guess Harmony didn't tell you B and I were in town," I said, wanting to drive the stake a little deeper in her. Harmony was that annoying.

His brow lowered, his dark eyes sliding towards the blonde idiot. "Harmony?"

"Oh, like I wanted to be the bearer of that news," she said, doing the head bobbing thing that just made her look like a drugged chicken.

"Harmony, go," he said evenly but it might have just as well been a death threat. Harmony was gone. He looked at me, his face brightening.

"So how is it you're not a big pile of dust?" I gestured at the sun.

"Necro-tempered glass." He grunted as I ran over and hugged him. "It's good to see you again, Faith." He waited a beat then asked. "Buffy's here, too?"

"It's a two for one deal," I said, stepping back. "You weren't here when we got in so I think she..." Shit, should I even bring it up?

"Went to see Spike." He said it so calmly I couldn't tell if he was okay with it or trying to hide his hurt. "Why didn't you tell us you were coming?"

"That's more B's story than mine. Let's just say, we needed to get out of England before someone stopped us. You have no idea what it's like being the two oldest Slayers. We're expected to teach the newbies everything while doing our jobs, too. They wouldn't have let us come." I flopped down in one of his chairs.

"I'm glad to see you." He sat, too. "Are you staying long?"

I shrugged. "No clue. That's up to B. I mean we gotta go back but not necessarily today or tomorrow." He seemed relieved by that. Shit, but he was pale. Seeing him in sunlight drove that home. I couldn't hold in a giggle. He looked at me curiously. "Sorry, Angel. Guess I had too much of Wes' scotch." His eyebrows rose higher. "I was thinking 'does Angel look better in sunlight or like me, does better with a little shadow'?"

"You'd look good in any light, Faith," he said and I could see how he had managed to charm so many girls over the centuries.

"Thanks." I couldn't help but grin. My cheeks felt hot. God, please tell me I'm not blushing.

He smirked a little. "You were drinking with Wes?"

I nodded, looking down at my hands. They were getting old looking, veiny from all the stress put on them by the constant fighting and working the prison laundry room hadn't helped. "I tried to apologize to him for what I did. It was hard but I don't have to tell you that," I said and his eyes went downcast. Oh, he knew how hard it was to have done the things we've done and had to make amends for. "You and me, we know what it is to have to apologize for big evils. Well, Willow, too, but she and I still don't exactly get on. Wes offered scotch. I'm not gonna say no."

"I know exactly what you mean about apologizing," he said sympathetically.

I nodded. "It went better than I could have asked for. Wes is a good man."

"I know."

"I hope you do," I said, wondering if he could read the warning in that. Did he know how close he was to losing Wes? "And I came back to properly say thanks for everything. You saved my life, Angel."

"And you saved mine. I'd call us even." His eyes had that rare, gentle look in them.

"Not quite even. You saved me twice, once from myself and once from that drug. You gave me a second chance, Angel. I know how rare those are. I just wanted you to know I'm not going to waste it."

He smiled just slightly and even that didn't look quite right on his face. He didn't have a face made for smiling. "I trust you, Faith." Angel got up and looked back out the window.  He glanced over his shoulder at me. "Do you and Buffy have rooms? You look wrung out. You could go sack out on my couch if you don't."

I didn't doubt I looked like five miles of bad road. "Fred gave us rooms. I am exhausted. Long ass flight on top of all this emotional junk."

He came over and held out a hand to me. I didn't really need a hand up but I took it anyway. He hugged me again warmly. "I'm here if you need me, Faith."

"I know," I said, laying my head against his broad chest for a moment then took a step away. "And Angel, don't let Buffy leave without seeing you like this." I pointed to the windows again then dragged off to find my rooms.