Title: Maybe, Just Maybe
Disclaimer: Please don't sue. The characters I created are mine. So steal my idea, or 'borrow' without my permission, and I will be the one to sue. Other characters remain...not mine.
Pairings:Buffy/Faith
Feedback: Always, please =)
Rating: R for adult scenes
Chapter 15
Each of us had dispersed, going back to our homes, going about our business, beginning these so called "set tasks" to enable us to defeat this next apocalypse.
The words exchanged became precious; the looks even more so. Oz went with Willow, not before she told us all to be careful. And the look upon her face; pure anxiety. She was scared. We all were.
I squeezed Faith's hand still, as we walked back to my house, and once again, the words were few, the looks were fewer, but the ones that spirited…I kept in mind. I dared not let them slip.
And Angel. He walked alone.
To the ocean. As Willow said…I'd wondered why he was back here, with us. After everything. But if this was what he wanted to do, where he wanted to be. I couldn't stop him. Bless him.
Some might think he was the loneliest creature upon the earth, facing the ocean as if it were pure oxygen. Nothing to him. But as he began strolling through it, the other end of the beach a pitch black, the moon a full shining beam, he breathed. Unneeded oxygen. He drew those elements in. They were at his feet and in his hair. And he acknowledged them, as the water drenched his clothes and the air challenged his need for survival. Day seemed so far away, and he seemed to take each second at a time. It was that important.
We'd never done this before, but every second was crucial to my knowledge. I had to absorb it, I had to know what I was doing. Similarly for her, I think every second counted, as she led me to the bathroom, as we stood before each other, as she removed each item of clothing from me, and I, her.
As I stepped into the shower, and she followed, and again, we stood…for some reason she was crying. I couldn't see the tears, but I could hear the whimpers, through the swooshing of the rushing water from the showerhead. She outstretched her arms before her, to lean against the tiling of the shower, and behind her I was standing, watching. I stepped towards her, and tentatively as I could, embraced her, one arm at a time, until finally, she was within me. I tried as hard as I could to listen to her sobs calming, but they seemed to continue. She would die for us. Before I would've excused her as being scared inside; and that she would never show her fear…but here…she broke down as if there would be no tomorrow. This was it. And soon I began sobbing. I understood why she was crying and it started me.
What if we didn't make it.
Were we strong enough to not get dead?
Ever wonder who would be next?
Each flame as delicate as the other, more silent and more secluded, they burned. Each candle, creating it's own light, shone, and she was surrounded by every single one. And as the words emitted from her mouth and she sat cross legged upon the floor in which the candles also did, she closed her eyes. Dozens and dozens of that specific element surrounded her, and she shone with them, her chanting raising the flames, empowering them, testing their own potential. And as they rose, she did too. And as they diminished, she settled.
I don't think catatonic was the correct word however she became that closed. I pulled a tee above her head and through her arms, and let her slide on the pair of shorts that had come from my draw. And as she sat upon my bed she stared. Blankly. I sat in front of her and reached for her hand, noticing her eyes gravitating to it once I did.
'All this…' she began. 'It's so much.' She looked up at me, her voice more solemn than I'd ever known for it to be. 'I thought Kaskistos was a bet.'
I chuckled a little and that soon faded when I saw her lack of expression. 'Yeah.' I drew in a breath and looked at her watching me. 'You're unbelievable, you know that?'
She huffed and blinked, tiredly, taking her gaze from me. 'Yeah, sure.'
'I'm serious. That comment back in the library?' I started, pointing my thumb in a direction.
She looked back to me and I smiled. 'Remember…when we talked about who might be next?' I licked over my lips and she watched me still.
Finally, after what seemed like a few minutes she sighed. 'Can we not do this, right now?'
'Faith, this is HUGER than anything we've ever faced.' I inhaled and exhaled, before moving a hand to push stray hair from her face. 'But I think you're strong enough not to get dead. More importantly? Not to get any of us dead, either. You did what had to be done with Will and I'm so glad you were there. What would've happened if you weren't?'
She scoffed. 'Geez, B, pressure much…'
I chuckled and she did too, and that made me smile even more. 'I can't wait to see the eighth of July.' She raised an eyebrow and shrugged resignedly. 'But I'm gonna…' I trailed off, looking at her, an at how there was a lack of her eyes on me. She was beat. That was for sure. Mentally. I think she'd had enough for one day. 'And you are too.'
She looked up into my eyes one more time, a few seconds gracing us with silence, before she got up and followed the bed round to her side. She sat upon it once again, her back facing me. Then there was more silence and I sighed at her dismissal of my words.
'I'm so scared, Buffy.' More silence. I turned a little looking at her slouched form, before getting up also, and crossing the room to the desk, where I saw that notebook I'd been taking note of my dreams.
'Faith, I'm terrified,' I told her, my voice little above a whisper, and as I turned to her, I noticed how she honestly looked as if she was about to resign. She looked so tired.
'What if I fail?' Her voice sounded so tiny, so…finished, and a part of me was scared she didn't think she had the strength to do this.
'"What if…" What if is a possibility. But Faith…we all consider the "what ifs" and "buts" of every single difficult situation. We have to, otherwise we might never realise what could be coming. What if…I break my leg and fall down the stairs tomorrow…'
'Touch wood,' she interrupted.
'…What if I get sick and can't fight? What if is always gonna be something that's stuck in the back of our minds. All of us. But we try our hardest to stop them from happening cos they knock on our worst fears.' I paused, watching how she was motionless throughout this. 'You know you can do this, Faith. And being afraid is something you can use. Take fear, take anxiety and like you said; you wanted to find a way of putting all of that wasted energy to use; use it NOW. Use it in three days time, when it's needed. Focus on getting it beat up the right way. Get it. Use it. Be strong. WIN.' I hadn't realised how much I needed to take a breath then, but as I inhaled deep I saw her look to me, and the light from outside caught her face.
'Is that how you do it?' she asked, her voice still sounding so weak, so beat up, so vulnerable.
I crossed the room to her, slowly, gently, and perched upon the edge of the bed once there, a knee beneath my body, my hands pressed to the bed. I settled and sighed. 'Willow taught me how. I tried…once…it hurt…cos…I had to…' I squinted and looked down into my palms. '…Kill Angel.'
'Oh…'
'It hurt. But it worked. Something got me through it, and I'm guessing that. But Faith, it's not about the energy. It's about you. You already have the power to do this. It's just a matter of doing it now. You're strong. Strong enough not to get dead. And whether or not you're scared, or worried, or fed up, tired…You're not gonna fail. You're gonna…' I began to smile. '…Prevail…' I told her as I stretched a hand out in front of me, knowing she would watch it and probably laugh at me. Which she did.
'C'mere.' She pulled me close to her and hugged me and we both chuckled. 'Thanks,' she said as she held me.
I nodded. 'No problem.'
