Chapter Twelve – Resting Here with Me
(Compliments of Dido "Here with Me")
Hours after finding nothing to help them with their questions, Faith went back to the apartment, just to see if the watcher had any other books that might help. Her brain was on overload from trying to help. She wasn't much, since she didn't have the skills to translate anything, much less the Latin or other old languages the books were written in.
She was scared. That much she knew. Her powers had never ebbed. She had never gone through the Cruciamentum, having turned eighteen just after she had put herself in a coma. So no trial for her. Now she could totally sympathize with her counterpart. It must have driven Buffy to hell and back. But B had made it through the test with flying colors. Probably made her a better slayer also.
As she rounded the corner to the door, she noticed that she was not alone. Standing outside the door were two suspicious looking characters trying to break into Wes's apartment. Dammit, did they ever get a break? Must have to do with the damn Council, she thought. Well, she'd give them all the diaries from his time as a watcher. She'd keep the rest though. Those didn't belong to them. They belonged to Angel and Gunn.
Try as they might, the two couldn't get through the door. She knew that the bolt on the door was flimsy and would probably break without too much effort. These guys must be total amateurs. They finally gave up and walked down the hall towards her. Faith hid in a dark corner, watching them pass by. She quickly made her way to the apartment, looking over her shoulder to see if they might double back.
Unlocking the door, she jiggled the bolt again, and it gave a little. Why on earth could they not just break the door down? That was puzzling. She gingerly closed the door behind her, looking around to see if anyone else had managed to break in while she was gone. Everything looked to be in order.
Maybe Wes had some kind of spell on the place where people that weren't invited couldn't enter, kind of like the ones involving vampires. There was no other explanation. The thought made her feel a little safer, like maybe he was looking out for her, even though he would never know that she was living in his apartment, using his things, reading his personal diaries.
Going through the volumes on the shelf, she didn't notice anything that might help in the cause. She thought about calling Giles on this one, but realized that if Wood had anything to do with her slayer powers disappearing, then Giles would not be the answer. Could he be involved also? She hoped that he would have enough sense to steer clear of those yahoos. But he had tried to kill Spike at one point, thinking him to be a liability.
She picked through the food that she had bought and fixed herself a sandwich. It sat in her stomach like lead, but she knew she needed to keep up her strength. The moves she had learned over the years hadn't just disappeared over night, so at least she had some protection. She would just have to play it safe, and not venture out at night. Not making herself a target was key.
Placing a chair against the door, she cleaned up her mess from her meager dinner, and then checked all of the windows. Maybe she should move back to the hotel, she thought. Angel and Spike would be around if anyone attacked her. But she realized that she didn't feel safe in either place. The hotel was so big, so many rooms unoccupied, so many ways to break in. Here, she had a couple of windows and the door.
Sitting down, she watched television for a while, trying to calm her nerves. But that didn't work, so she picked up another diary, hoping that Wes's writings would do the trick. Opening up a random one, she turned to the first page. It was dated in April 2000. The date meant nothing to her, other than to note that it was before she went to prison. He talked about Angel being given a drug to induce euphoria, making him act like Angelus. It made her giggle when she read that they had chained him to the bed for two days, just to make sure the drug had worn off. Wes had acted the hero in this story by knocking Angel across the room and trapping him in the elevator shaft. Score one for the watcher, she cheered.
Turning the page, she eyed her name. Now she knew why the date seemed familiar. She'd been sent to jail not long after it. The entry started with just one word. "Faith." That was all it said for at least half a page, until his pen had started up again. "She tried to kill Angel today. Arrow to the back. Fortunate for the three of us, she wasn't quiet enough because if Angel hadn't heard her, the arrow would have hit him square in the heart. I couldn't have done a better job. Faith was so obviously back in slayer mode. Evil slayer mode. She has awoken from her coma, which no one in Sunnydale had decided to inform us."
The next page was blank again, like he didn't want to write about what happened next. She knew vividly what happened next. Had relived that day and night over and over in her brain almost nightly. The next page, the writing had started up again. It was less neat, a little shaky. "Angel rescued me from Faith. I was never more relieved at seeing the vampire than I was at that moment. She had taken from me almost about as much as I could handle. I almost screamed, but knew she would hurt me even more if I uttered even a sound. Torture came in all forms, I knew this firsthand, not from her mind you, but I knew how that kind of mind worked. She wanted to hurt me, and I was the instrument of her downfall. I failed her as a watcher. I was her mentor, and I did nothing to bring her back from the brink. Did I deserve all that she did to me? I will be asking that question of myself for quite some time."
Wesley was playing the blame game, one of which he was a master. He blamed himself for her downfall? Typical of him. She hoped that before he died he realized that he wasn't to blame for everything that happened to her. She kept reading. "Angel wants to help her back on the path to redeem herself. What right does he have to do this? She tortured me for hours, having fun while doing it. She somehow was aroused by it. I knew that her slaying had caused her to feel this way, having listened in on one of her conversations with Buffy. Did she ever notice how much I wanted her in Sunnydale? God, I hope that was never the case. Now, she is broken. I despise her for her treatment of me. In time, she could come around. With enough incarceration and counseling, she could be redeemed. As the police led her away, I could see the remorse in her eyes. Maybe there was hope for her yet."
"Fuck," Faith said out loud.
Was she that obvious? She wondered why he was never around after she had patrolled and on the few times he was, Giles or one of the others was with him. He looked at her like all the other males looked at her. That she knew. But she ignored him mostly, especially when he was in watcher mode. The time that she saved him from the wicked looking spider though, that was for him, because she knew that he could have cared for her if she hadn't gone evil. She could have just let the thing take his face off like one of them had done to the cop. She didn't want to see that face marred, hear him in agony as it killed him. Maybe she did feel something for him back then.
As she lay down that night, she cuddled herself around another pillow, trying to find that inner peace to be able to sleep. The day's turmoil had made that difficult, which had her staring at the bedside clock for hours until she finally went under.
Wesley sat beside her the whole time she read the diaries. Her face was pained with emotion, knowing what it must feel like to relive that time again. He imagined that she relived it in her dreams too many times for him to count. He certainly had. But the image had faded for him somewhat over time, to be replaced by other visions. He didn't know which was worse, her torture, or his torture of himself.
He was glad that the spell he had performed right before he had died was still in effect. No one other than who he authorized could enter his apartment. They'd have to bring someone who had knowledge of magicks to achieve that feat. With time, it would be broken. He just hoped that Faith would take care until her powers were fully restored.
He had reread the part of the instruction manual about dreams and how much he could speak with her. It was a very vague section, mainly to do with how much he could or couldn't tell her. Since there wasn't much to tell in the first place, he just wanted to talk to her, make her more at ease. Angel waking up from his fog had helped matters, but he concluded from recent occurrences that there was trouble on the horizon.
He sat beside her on the bed, concentrating to look into her mind. The scene there bothered him even more. She was reliving it again. He had to stop the nonsense before it went too far.
He shivered as he saw himself in that chair, bleeding from the cuts that she had inflicted with the shard of glass. As he drew his eyes from his broken body, he watched as she took the glass and shoved it into her own skin.
"No," he yelled, wanting her to stop the torment.
"What? Isn't this what you wanted?" she asked him, her eyes hooded from his.
"I never wanted you to hurt yourself, Faith. Just put the glass down. There is no need . . . ."
"Yes, there is a need. I did that to you," she said, starting to cry. She pointed to the Wesley sitting on the chair, in a daze from the injuries she had inflicted.
"We've been through so much, Faith. You've come so far. Beating up on yourself is not going to help matters." He walked over to her, trying to reason with the dream Faith.
"I just wanted all the pain to end. Make it stop," she told him as she collapsed to her knees.
Wesley came down to her level, careful not to touch her, since he couldn't anyway.
"You have to make it stop, Faith. Please, Faith. I forgive you."
She lifted her head to look into his eyes. "Don't forgive me, you bastard. Don't." She grabbed his shoulders, wanting to push him away.
He wasn't expecting her to find him solid. He thought that her hands would pass right through him. Her hands slapped down on his shoulders. This was not supposed to happen. Did he read the manual correctly? It said nothing about being corporeal during dreams. He must have missed that. How many other things did they not tell him?
"I do."
Faith pulled him to her, sobbing her heart out on his chest, just like she had in that alley with Angel right after the scene she was dreaming. "I'm sorry," he heard coming from her mouth over and over again. He couldn't help but embrace her, to give her some comfort. She must have cried for a long time, because his knees were cramping from the kneeling position he had been in. He slowly lowered himself to the floor, taking a shaking Faith with him.
After what seemed like hours had passed, Faith slowly raised her head. Her makeup was almost gone in her crying jag, shirt still had blood on the front. His and hers, mixed.
"Why do you keep doing this?"
"Doing what?" he asked her.
"Forgiving me. I don't know if I would have the strength."
"You had the strength to tell me you were sorry. Will you forgive me?"
"If you pull that guilt trip crap this time, so help me, I will punch . . . ." Faith's face drew up in surprise. "No, not what I would do now."
"I wasn't the best watcher for you. You needed so much more than a schoolboy."
"Giles couldn't control me either. And he was the experienced one."
Faith laid her head on his shoulder, curling herself up into his lap for comfort, just like a small child. Was this what she needed back in Sunnydale? Someone to listen to her? He certainly didn't do that correctly.
"No one's perfect. Not even Giles." Both laughed a little at the statement.
As Wesley looked over, his former self disappeared from the picture. Now all he could hear were the raindrops hitting outside. It had rained that night too. It washed away some of the blood from his body as he found his way to the hospital. That made it look like he was just mugged, instead of tortured.
"How can I stop dreaming about it? I don't want to see it again," Faith asked him, trying to find the answers.
"I'm not sure what to tell you. It's something you may have to live with for the rest of your life." Not very encouraging words, Pryce.
"Will you be here when I do?" He hoped that he could see it every time it happened, so he could comfort her and tell her that he forgave her.
"As much as I can, Faith."
"I miss you," she told him as she ran a hand through his hair.
How his body became warmer, he didn't know. This was her dream. Did she control what happened? Was he totally under her influence? The book was too damn vague.
"I miss you too," he answered in turn.
"Make it go away," she implored him as she buried her face in his neck.
He wished he could make it all go away, every bad thing that had happened to her in her life. But that was not why he was here. He had a job to do, which did not include what she had in mind at the moment.
She ran her hands down his back as her mouth kissed his neck in earnest. He had to stop her, before the dream got out of hand.
"This is not going to make it go away, Faith."
"But it will make it feel better. Just for a little while."
He couldn't argue with that. It could make her feel somewhat better. As she took his mouth with hers, this would make him feel better too. Tears still fell from her face, making her taste salty. He wanted to take those tears away too. She moved to straddle him on the floor, still clinging to his lips like they were a life preserver. He had to stop her. This was a mistake that he couldn't have her make.
As she moved sensuously against his body, his hands came up to cup the back of her head, pressing her even closer to him. "Wes," she moaned as he held her tighter.
"Yeah, Wes. Snap out of it," another voice said in his ear.
Faith was gone. The pleasant pressure that had built up was still there, but she had disappeared into the ether.
"Hello, lover."
TBC—OK, so I lied. The next chapter will have Gunn and Wood returns. This just came out as I typed. Sorry for the confusion. Also, some more people from the past. I'll let you figure out that one.
Author notes: I feel like I have to update this thing quite frequently because of the reviews. Wow, wow, and double wow. And so many good ideas too. I can't say that I'll use them all, but I'll see where some might fit. I've already used some of them. Go reviewers!
Thanks to: to all those loyal reviewers who have been following this fic, thanks a whole bunch!! You make my day every time I check e-mail, which is quite often because you guys make me smile (and laugh sometimes too). So thanks to tp96, Darklight(yay, new reviewer), pari106, Angels Touch (keep reviewing, I hope you make it to this chapter), WhiteRabbit, Polyester Rage(another new reviewer). You guys keep me updating.
Questions: Darklight—interesting ideas. As I said, I'm sure how much I'll use. Wes will get into trouble, you just wait. I was planning on making Spike Illyria's guide, so I think I'm sticking with that for now.
Pari106—yes, I like Illyria, always liked Fred, not many characters that I don't like (I don't hate Robin, he's just a device, like Xander was in one of my fics)
Polyester Rage—more Spike/Illyria time in the near future. When I started this fic, they were going to be minor characters. Didn't happen like that, so we'll see. And is Robin evil?