The Quickening

Notes: Thanks for the reviews. Keep them coming.

Previously:

But as she watched Faith kneel down in front of her and brush a strand of her hair away from her face, she saw that Faith truly was a hero deep down inside, even though the younger girl never realized it.

Chapter Forty:

Faith found herself standing in a dark alley. The moon was shining above her head, but it did not shed any light on the empty space in front of her. A street lamp popped nearby and Faith turned, looking back at it. "Do you remember this place?" A voice asked from the darkness. Faith turned back to face it, shuddering at the sudden chill that ran up and down her spine.

"I've never been here before," Faith replied. "I'm dreaming again, aren't I?"

"How very perceptive," the voice replied, shifting closer. Faith could feel the presence of another person in the alley, but she could not see her.

"Who are you? I know I've asked you that before. But I didn't understand your answer," Faith said, moving closer to the darkness.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," the voice warned.

"Do what?" Faith asked, stopping.

"I wouldn't walk into the darkness if I were you," the voice answered.

"Why not?" Faith asked, her curiosity piqued.

"You'll see things in there you'll wish you could forget," the voice replied.

"What kinds of things?" Faith asked, unconsciously moving closer to the shadows that lingered in front of her.

"Vicious things," the voice said, echoing around her. "Horrible things that people should never have conceived to do to each other."

Faith stopped mid stride, suddenly wanting to be as far away from the darkness as she could. "I think I know what you mean."

"Of course you do. You've seen the very worst side of humanity. That darkness has tasted the fear that pumps through your veins. Can't you remember the way it felt to have it surround you?" The voice asked. Faith could feel someone approaching her from behind, but she did not turn around to face whatever had invaded her dreams.

Closing her eyes, she tried to steer her mind away from the dark nights in Boston when she sat in a corner of her mother's apartment, shivering with pain and rage and emptiness. "I don't want to remember," Faith replied coldly.

"But you still do. You remember the acidic taste of rage filling your mouth, making you think things that you never should have dreamed of," the voice said. "Violent things."

"And what's wrong with that?" Faith asked, suddenly becoming angry. "After all the shit I had to put up with growing up, I have every right to be a little pissed off."

Faith could practically hear the owner of the voice sneering behind her. The voice clearly rang out through the alley in a mocking laugh. "That's it, Faith. You can pretend it doesn't exist, you can push it away and play the hero, but you'll never escape the darkness. It's inside of you. It's the hatred that swells in your heart every time you think of your mother and the horrible things that she did to you."

"I don't hate her," Faith replied softly.

"No? I would if I were you," the voice answered.

"But you're not me," Faith said. "She had her own problems to deal with. Maybe she didn't handle them the best way. But nobody's perfect."

"Nobody's perfect? That's your answer?" The voice asked in disbelief. "Tell me, Faith, when you were ten years old and your mother let her dealer fondle you for a bag of shit cocaine, tell me that didn't make you hate her with every fiber of your being."

"I don't have to listen to this," Faith replied, biting back tears. "I can just wake up."

"Then why haven't you?" The voice asked. Faith closed her eyes, wishing herself awake. But when she opened her eyes again, she was still standing in the alley and the owner of the voice was standing directly behind her. "If you want to know who I am so badly, why don't you just turn around?"

"I don't know if I'll like what I see," Faith answered.

"You'll never know until you do," the voice replied. Faith drew in a deep breath and slowly turned, taking in the face that belonged to the voice, which had haunted her dreams.

"Buffy?" Faith asked, turning to her see her sister slayer standing in front of her. "You're not B, you look different somehow."

"We all look different in shadow," the voice replied.

"Why her?" Faith asked. "Why did you pick her?"

"How do you know I'm not her?" The voice asked.

"There's nothing in your eyes," Faith replied. "You're empty."

"Maybe I'm just the embodiment of everything the future holds, Faith, for you and for her. Nothing is static," the voice answered.

"No, Buffy could never be like you," Faith responded with conviction. "I know who you are."

"Who am I, Faith?" The voice asked.

"You're that thing that was haunting Angel," Faith replied. "The First Evil."

"Well, aren't you a quick one," the voice answered.

"What do you want with me?" Faith asked, moving away. "And how can you be her, she's not dead."

"I'm in your dreams, Faith. I can be anything I want here. The reality of dreams is far different than the reality of your world," the voice said. "Remember this place, Faith. You'll see it again."

"What are you talking about?" Faith asked, looking around the alley, but it was already starting to fade. She felt like she was looking at a faded photograph, the edges of her vision blurring over until everything faded into black.

Faith's eyes fluttered open slowly, her eyes adjusting to the darkness that surrounded her. She was in her bed, in Giles's apartment. The memory of the night's events played through her mind. She had rescued Buffy and Joyce from Kralik and returned home exhausted. She fell into bed as soon as she walked through the door. She looked down, realizing that she had not even changed out of her clothes. Sitting up in bed, Faith reached over and turned on the lamp on her nightstand. According to her digital clock, it was nearly two o'clock in the morning.

Looking around the room, Faith realized how lonely she felt at that moment. Something about the dream made her feel incredibly cold, like she had lingered too long on the edge of oblivion and lost a piece of herself. Getting to her feet, she grabbed her keys off the nightstand and moved out of her bedroom. Carefully closing the door behind her, she snuck down the hall, hoping escape without waking Giles. She reached the front door and cautiously opened it, slipping out a crack big enough for her to fit through before quietly closing it behind her. She was not sure how Giles would take to her sneaking out in the middle of the night. However, the last place she wanted to be at that moment was alone in her room, mulling over the meaning of her dream.

Quickly locking the door, she began lightly jogging down the street, towards Xander's apartment. She knew he was probably asleep and would not appreciate being woken up, but she felt like she needed to see him. He seemed to ground her whenever life became too much for her to handle. As she jogged passed the hotel she had called home for the first few weeks of her stay in Sunnydale, she silently thanked whatever higher power had sent Giles her way. She could not imagine living there now. Finally, she reached Xander's apartment building. Pulling open the door, she walked inside. Xander's apartment was on the second floor. Instead of waiting for the elevator, she took to the stairs, quickly walking up them.

Once she reached Xander's door, she paused a moment to ran a hand through her tangled locks. Then she knocked on the door. After a few moments, she could hear Xander stumbling about inside of the apartment. His footsteps drew closer and the door opened. "Hey," Xander said groggily, running a hand over his sleep worn face. "When you said you were coming by tonight, I kinda thought you meant a little earlier."

"Yeah, I know. I just couldn't sleep," Faith said. Xander opened the door further, inviting her in.

"So naturally you decided to come wake me up," he jokingly replied.

"Naturally," Faith answered, smiling. "I thought maybe a change of scenery would help."

"Well, there's plenty of room," Xander replied, taking her hand and leading her back to his bedroom. She climbed into bed next to him, resting her head on his chest. She could hear his heart beating under her chest and the sound seemed to chase away the remnants of her dream that had been lingering on the edge of her consciousness.

"Night, Xan," Faith replied as she drifted off to sleep. Xander smiled and closed his eyes.

"Night."