Chapter Thirty-Two – So Now You Know

Faith got up to pace. "You make it sound like some kind of disease or something."

"My thoughts are already jumbled enough without adding yours to the mix." Wesley rubbed his head like he was in pain.

"Does it hurt? Am I hurting you?"

"Not intentionally, but yes, it does hurt. In addition to the wrist, I've felt like vomiting at least three times since we started walking."

So now she knew it was her fault directly. She never wanted to inflict any more pain on him, ever. What she had done before was bad enough. Now that she understood him better, cared for him, she might not be able to recover. She barely did the first time. By Wesley's pained expression, she knew he had read her every thought.

"Oh God, Wes. I didn't mean to." But he got up and walked away.

She followed him to another spot far enough away from the teenagers so they couldn't hear. "You need to pull yourself together, Wes. I need for you to pull yourself together."

Wesley rubbed his head furiously, like that would break the connection.

"You're scaring me," Faith cried out.

"Oh, I am? Just like that night you tortured me. You didn't realize how much you scared me. But I had to keep it together. To not let you win, to see how much of a wuss I really was."

Oh, something was not right with him. She could see the rage on his face. It reminded her of herself those many years ago. So full of rage and anger. All alone.

"I saw how the rest of them regarded me in Sunnydale. How they thought of me." He stalked over to her, towering over her.

"I never thought that way, exactly."

"You questioned my very authority, my very life. I lost Buffy, I lost you, I lost everything."

He stood over her, one fist balled at his side. This was not her Wesley. It was like looking in a mirror, the way she was a couple of years ago.

"Listen, Wes. You're not in your right mind. This isn't you talking. I think it's me."

He jerked her up from her seat on a rock. "It's always about you, Faith," he sneered at her.

Faith felt herself falling. Not literally falling. But that out of breath feeling you get when you fall in a dream. She could see into his mind clearly. Her memories, his memories intermixed freely. No wonder his head hurt so badly.

She saw his childhood, his father's treatment, his mother's indifference. The punishments that were inflicted on him were so damaging even she would have had a hard time recovering and moving forward. She saw how he never had any close friends as a child, how he was pushed around by others. He never had a childhood. Although her mother was angry with her at times, hitting her sometimes, she never had to endure that kind of mental abuse.

The man had been ridiculed all his life, until he had come to LA and joined with Angel and Cordelia to fight evil. To have it all fall apart a couple of years later. The only true family he ever had rejected him, never really took him back, never really forgave him. So much unfinished business.

Now she more clearly understood him. Thought she had understood him before. He stood motionless, looking down into her eyes, seeing her reaction to all that was revealed so quickly. No one had ever gotten that close to him.

Faith trembled at all the information that had bombarded her at once. "Oh God, Wes. I didn't know," she gasped out. And reached her free hand to touch his face, to convey that she did care, a lot. More than anything at that moment.

"Don't say that you care," he whispered to her.

"Listen to me. It isn't you, it's me you're channeling here. My fears. This is so way beyond just reading each other's thoughts."

"So how do we stop it?" he asked her as he brought his forehead to hers. The book-smart man was asking her how to stop it.

"I don't know, but you have to hold it together." She knew she sounded just like him. "There are so many things that we share now. Just remember that I'll never hurt you again."

Oh God, why was she telling HIM of all people these things. So out of character for her too. Like she would drown if they didn't figure out how to stop the process.

Wesley threw her a lifeline by placing a hot kiss on her lips. As their tongues danced and their bodies melded together, she saw what his conclusion was. They were becoming each other, that soon he'd become as reactive and volatile as she was before, while she'd become repressed and logical. Both accurate coping mechanisms.

Wesley didn't know how long they had stood together, wrapped around each other. He didn't know how closer they could get without stripping her clothes off and taking her right there.

Faith smiled into their kiss. He pulled back slightly.

"If you can think about that at a time like this, I think I got through that thick skull of yours."

"So do I. Interesting theory."

"What, with your mind on only one thing, it at least clears it somewhat. Now I know what I need to do to bring you back to the living," Faith laughed.

"I don't think we should. Now's not the time." Faith flustered him again.

"Just offerin'. Whatever it takes," Faith said as she sank into another kiss. She was right. It did clear his mind somewhat. His arm even felt better. Since it was between their bodies, he thought he should be screaming in pain at the pressure. But it amazingly felt better. Not healed, but better.

"You OK?" she whispered to him.

"Under control for the moment," he told her shakily.

"We should check on the kiddies."

Wesley dove in one more time for a kiss before they pulled apart.

"Now remember, if you feel the urge to step off that cliff, I'll be . . . ." Faith didn't get to complete that sentence because a bullet whizzed by her head. They both dropped to the ground.

"This is so not good," Faith said as she crawled over to him.

"How long have we been traveling since we activated your little prize?"

"A little over an hour, tops. I wonder where Connor is?"

"Did they give you any kind of time estimate?"

"Within two hours of activation, give or take."

"Where'd the shot come from?"

"The road, I think."

Wesley had taken the lay of the land when they had arrived. There were woods, then field, then road. Whoever shot at them would have to go across open field, or backtrack quite a ways to get to them. And it had turned dark. Another shot rang out.

"Let's find the other two."

"Wes, if Connor doesn't know we're coming, we could be in for a big surprise."

"He'll know. Why do you think he can track so well? He'll smell us from fifty yards out."

Faith snorted. "I hope so, 'cause I really don't need a fist full of Connor right now. One headache is bad enough. How 'bout that arm?"

"Feeling better."

"Slayer healing is a wonderful thing."

As they crept through the woods, off in the distance, they heard the rumbling of motorcycles.

"Hear it?"

"How can I not? And they're not going to be happy we eliminated their friends."

Faith squeezed his hand. "If they can find us."

Connor and Dawn were not where they left them. There was no evidence that the two were ever there.

"Can you track them, Faith?"

"I don't think they went far."

Crawling around, making as little noise as possible, they searched for the teenagers.

Wesley and Faith almost went past them until Connor snaked a hand out to stop them. He put up a hand to silence them and motioned them to follow. They trailed along after the boy until they came upon a rock formation at the edge of the field the furthest away from the demons as he could get Dawn.

Dawn had woken up. She smiled weakly at them as they came into view. She put the gun she was holding to her side.

"Do you hear it?" Connor softly whispered to them.

"The motorcycles?" Faith asked.

"No. Sounds like a helicopter," he answered back.

Both Faith and Wesley shook their heads no.

"It'll be here, fifteen minutes tops."

"How are you hearing that?"

"Combination of sound, vibrations on the ground, intuition. They're flying low to the ground. Makes it easier. We need to be ready."

TBC

Next to last chapter finished. Last chapter coming up.