Title: To Live in Hearts (2/?)

Author: Rev. Alixtii O'Krul V, TRL of the Church of St. Jesu the Heretic, Discordian

Rating: R for slashy indulgences.

Spoilers: All of Buffy and Angel.

Timeline: Futurefic. Eleven years after " Chosen."

Characters: Faith, Dawn, Giles, Kennedy.

Pairings: F/K, with overtones of W/K and F/X.

Summary: "To live in hearts we leave behind is not to die." – Clyde Campbell.

Author's Note: Okay, the plotline in this chapter isn't exactly all that original. But there are other directions I want to go with this fic, and this is a necessary stepping stone.

Feedback: Yes, please. Medium of exchange, y'know?

Distribution: Just tell me about it.

Disclaimer: There was once a man named Joss Whedon...

Warnings: Angst, slash, character death.

Richmond England

Dawn had needed to go into London to take care of some business at the Council headquarters, and Faith had traveled with her. They both took the train to central London, then got on the Tube and went to their separate destinations: Dawn to Tottenham Court Road, Faith back out to the suburbs.

Faith remembered watching The Hours with Robin so many years ago. (Good God, had it really been a decade? She wasn't sure if it had seemed shorter or longer than that.) The pastoral scene, where Woolf and her husband had gone to get away from the bustle of the city, it no longer existed. The local rugby field and the Watcher's Cemetery were really the only open spaces left in the town. It had been consumed by London.

Faith walked into the cemetery, the large Sunnydale cenotaph towering in front of her. Faith walked around it, and made her way towards the back of the cemetery. They would all visit the cemetery, together, in a few days, but Faith wanted the chance to be alone among the graves.

Faith had only been to this cemetery maybe a dozen times, tops, all post-Sunnydale, but every time she visited she went through the same routine, so she had no difficulty finding the tombstone she wanted. Nikki Wood, it read. 1952-1977. Beloved Mother. Faith left a flower on the grave, if only for Robin's sake.

She spent longer at the next grave. Kendra. 1979-1998. Kendra had been the Slayer before Faith, struck down by Drusilla. It was Kendra who had passed the Slayer mantle on to Faith, whose death made Faith what she now was. How many times had Faith wondered how her life would have been different if Kendra had lived? Would she have lived her entire life on the streets of Boston, never needing to know that vampires existed? Or would she have found out anyway, perhaps by becoming one of Kakistos' random victims, and died without the Slayer strength to protect her self? Would Willow have cast the activation spell anyway, causing an older Faith to be Chosen with the other Potentials, just another Slayer among many?

Faith traced the inscription on the face of the stone. Just her name and her dates. No Devoted Friend or Beloved Daughter, because she had had no friends and had not even known her parents. There wasn't even a last name upon the stone. She was simply the Slayer, the Chosen One, her entire life subsumed by that identity. And now that identity had passed on to Faith and a thousand other girls, and all that was left of Kendra was this simple grave.

Is that what Faith would leave behind, how she would be remembered? Who would mourn Faith's passing? Faith lingered in front of Kendra's stone, not wanting to move on, but at last she left a flower on the grave of the girl she had never known and continued through the graveyard.

She saw a lone figure standing in front of her last stop. Of course; Kennedy had had the same idea, to come today before the crowd would arrive on the true anniversary. She had probably taken an earlier train to arrive in London before Faith. Faith paused, unwilling to disturb the girl's solitude. After all, Kennedy had more right to be there than Faith had.

"Come on, Faith," Kennedy said, not taking her eyes off the sight in front of her. "It's okay."

Gingerly, Faith walked up and stood next to Kennedy. Compared to the simple Slayer graves, the joint tomb in front of them seemed almost extravagant. Buffy's doing, Faith knew. After Willow's spell provided Buffy with a loyal cadre of Slayers, the entire politics of the Council changed. Heck, that was the reason why Dawn had originally been given the job she now performed so capably.

Willow Rosenberg, the stone on the left proclaimed. Alexander Harris, read the one on the right. The dates on both stones were the same: 1981-2008.

Faith had never met Kendra, and Nikki Wood had died before she was even born. But Faith knew Willow and Xander. Faith could remember holding a knife (the knife, the one the Mayor gave her) to Willow's throat; she could remember fucking Xander in a cheap motel room, then trying to strangle him a week later in the same room. She remembered traveling back to Sunnydale from L.A. with Willow, fighting alongside Xander as she watched a mad preacher gouged out his eye.

Gouge out his eye because Xander had thrown him self into danger, saving Kennedy's life. Now, Kennedy just stared at the two graves, silent, not even moving. Faith watched her out of the corner of her eye, wondering what was going through the girl's mind, and knowing that she was glad she didn't know.

Suddenly, Kennedy spoke. "He saved my life. Twice. The first time, he lost his eye. The second time he lost his life."

"He died a hero," Faith pointed out, knowing it wasn't enough. After all, Xander hadn't saved Kennedy's life only twice. He had saved her life, as well as Faith's and everyone else's, when he resuscitated Buffy during her battle with the Master. In truth, who knew how many times Xander had saved the world, just by standing next to Buffy and Willow and all the rest?

"He shouldn't have," Kennedy complained. "He should have let me die."

Faith didn't know what to say to that? Tell her it wasn't true? The thing is, she understood how Kennedy could feel that way.

"Then she would have lost you. She still might have gone dark."

Kennedy turned and looked at Faith, intent. "Do you really believe that?" she asked.

Faith recognized the desperate quality in Kennedy's voice. Kennedy didn't believe that, Faith realized, not really, but desperately wanted to, needed to, even. Needed to believe that Willow had loved her as desperately as she had Xander, that losing Kennedy would have been just as much a blow, spiraling her back into black-haired fury.

Because if that wasn't true, then it meant Willow had never really loved Kennedy. Not liked she had loved Xander. Not like she had loved Tara. So many years after both Tara and Willow died, their relationship still hung like some dark spectre needing to be exorcised.

"She loved you," Faith answered, although of course she couldn't know that for sure. "None of us ever doubted that." Although, of course, they all had.

Kennedy just looked at her, and Faith could see the need in the girl's eyes, the desperate need to believe. She put a comforting hand on Kennedy's shoulder, trying to think of something to say. Nothing came.

And then Kennedy collapsed into her arms. "If I died, he'd still have been able to bring her back," she managed to get out between sobs. "I wouldn't have had to kill her."

Faith held the weeping girl in her arms, trying to comfort her as best as she could. "Everything will be all right," she whispered, before kissing the younger Slayer just once on the forehead. "It'll be all right."

Although, of course, it wouldn't be.