The Quickening
Previously:Putting the folder in his brief case, Alan closed it tight and locked it. Then he exited his office. He had spent the entire night there, researching what the Mayor had planned. The sun had just risen a few minutes ago. It was time for him to leave. If everything went according to plan, he would never come back.
Chapter Forty-Eight:"Where are we going?" Faith asked for the third time in nearly as many seconds. Xander simply smiled to himself and shook his head.
"No, I'm not going to tell you. It wouldn't be a surprise if I told you," he said, quite amused at Faith's insistence.
"I'll still act surprised," Faith promised.
"It wouldn't be the same," Xander insisted. "Besides, I told you that I'd take you out on an official date and I never did. Well, this is it. Yeah, it's a little late, but I want it to be special. So just relax."
"Fine," Faith said grumpily, although Xander knew that her tone was simply a last stitch effort at trying to persuade him to cave in and tell her their destination. Xander had arrived at Giles's apartment earlier that afternoon with the keys to his Uncle's convertible and a black, satin blindfold. He told her that he had made special arrangements for them for that afternoon and that she would be required to wear the blindfold until they reached their destination. Faith, however, was not too keen on the blindfold plan. Unfortunately, she could not seem to see through the material.
"You'll like this, I promise. It might be a bit corny, but you'll like it," Xander said, reaching over and intertwining his fingers with hers. He felt Faith's muscles relax and she leaned back in the seat, letting the wind blow through her hair and run its chill fingers down her face.
"We're not in Sunnydale anymore," Faith said suddenly.
"Nope, crossed the town line a few minutes ago. How did you know that?" Xander asked, looking over at her curiously.
"I can't feel it anymore," Faith replied.
"Feel what?"
"The Hellmouth. As soon as I stepped foot into Sunnydale the first time, I felt it. I had never felt anything so evil before. Ever since I've been there, it's been like static ringing in my ears. I could always feel it, but I got used to after a while. I just noticed that I couldn't feel it anymore," Faith explained.
"It must be tough," Xander commented.
"What?" Faith asked, turning her head to look over at him, even though she could not see him through the blindfold.
"Always being able to feel so much evil, but never being able to get rid of it all. Don't get me wrong; I know that you and Buffy do a lot. But you can kill every vampire you can find every night and they still keep coming," Xander said.
"That's what being a slayer is," Faith replied. "It's doing your job even though you know, in the end, it doesn't make much of a difference. The demons still come. Slayer follows slayer in an endless line, each fighting for the same thing, but never getting any closer to it. But I guess it creates a sort of balance," Faith said, displaying more of an understanding of her calling than she had since arriving in Sunnydale.
"Well, maybe one day we'll get the upper hand," Xander said hopefully. Faith smiled a little. She liked that Xander believed that they could change the fate of the world, that what they did really mattered in the face of time. Faith had her own doubts about whether her actions would ever be remembered, or if the slow crawl of years would wipe out any memory that a vampire slayer named Faith ever existed. Moreover, she doubted if her actions helped to curb the tide of evil. Sometimes it seemed that there was so much evil in the world that no good could possibly exist. But then Faith would look around and see little things – strangers smiling at each other on the street, the look of love in a little girl's eyes when she looked at her mother, and the careless abandon with which people gave their lives simply to help others. Then she remembered that good still existed in the world and that her actions did matter, even if no one remembered them after she was gone.
"I hope so," Faith replied. "So how much longer is it anyway?"
Xander smiled. "Not too far. We're almost there," he said.
"You seem pretty happy with yourself, Xan," Faith commented, noting the overtly confident tone in his voice.
"Well, I may not be the best boyfriend in the world. But I think for once, I got something right," Xander replied. Then he pulled the car off to the side of the road. Shutting off the engine, he hopped out of the car and opened the passenger's side door for Faith. "My lady," he said, offering her his hand. He could tell that Faith had rolled her eyes, even though she was wearing the blindfold.
"Can I take this thing off now?" Faith asked, motioning towards the cloth wrapped around her eyes,
"Not yet," Xander said. "We've got a short distance to walk. No peeking either," he warned.
"So help me…. if I fall," Faith started. Xander linked his arm with hers and led her down a narrow, dirt path.
"Don't worry," he said. "I've got you."
"I know," Faith replied.
Xander smiled a little and concentrated on leading her down the path without letting her stumble. Finally, the trees opened up into a clearing. In the clearing, rolling, green grass sprawled, dotted with yellow, dandelion flowers. In the middle of the meadow, a picnic blanket had been spread. Upon it, a picnic basket rested and rose petals were casually, yet carefully, strewn. Xander led her right to the edge of the blanket and then stopped. "Okay, I'm going to take the blindfold off now," Xander said as he reached up and gently slid his fingers underneath the fabric.
"Where are we?" Faith asked as the bright sunshine temporarily blinded her.
"Just a little place I found," Xander replied. Faith blinked several times before her eyes adjusted to the light and she looked around.
"Holy shit," Faith said, once she saw the picnic blanket laid out before her. "You did all this?"
"Yep," Xander responded simply. Faith turned to face him with the brightest smile on her face that he had ever seen. Throwing her arms around his neck, she leaned in and kissed him passionately.
"Thank you so much."
………………………….
"Well, you've been feeling pretty good about yourself, haven't you, hero?" The voice asked, pulling Faith further and further into her nightmare.
"Leave me alone," Faith said wearily. Opening her eyes, she found herself staring up at an unfamiliar ceiling. A large crack ran down the middle, a moldy, yellow color that reminded her of stale urine. Then it came back to her. "I remember this place," she said, suddenly sitting up. She was back in her Boston apartment, staring up at the ceiling in the living room, where she lay on her makeshift bed. Whenever she could not sleep, she stared up at the ceiling, letting her eyes smear until she thought she could see a happier life playing out on the plaster.
"Save the world once and all of the sudden you think you're better than everyone else," the voice continued.
"I don't think that," Faith shot back angrily.
"Yes, you do. Buffy doesn't seem so noble anymore, does she? You can see the cracks now. She's like a sculpture that's slowly breaking over time. Or maybe, that's you," the voice said mockingly. "Maybe you're the one that's cracking. You look in the mirror and everything looks perfect, but if you look a little closer, you'd see just how cracked up and broken you are."
"I know how broken I am," Faith replied. "I don't need you to tell me that."
"What's that smell?" The voice asked. Faith threw the blankets off her body and moved closer to the shadows, from where the voice was emanating. She could see the outline of someone sitting in a chair in the corner. It was where her mother's drug dealers would sit while they drew lines of coke on the coffee table.
"Sex and stale liquor," Faith replied without thinking. "Why am I back here?" Faith asked, looking around the apartment, a chill of fear creeping up her spine.
"Don't worry, no one's here. It's just you and me," the voice said. Suddenly, Faith recognized it.
"I don't want to see you," Faith said, turning away. "I don't ever want to see you again. Not after that night."
"Yes, I imagine that night must have been very traumatic for your young mind," the first Evil sneered through the voice of Faith's mother.
"Wake up," Faith whispered to herself, gripping the sides of her face tightly with her hands. "Wake up."
"Doesn't quite work that way," the voice said. "But nice try."
"What do you want from me?" Faith asked, sliding to the ground with her back against the wall.
"Look at me," the voice replied. Faith could feel the shadowy presence kneel in front of her.
"No," Faith said, her chin pressing against her chest and her eyes shut.
"Just look at me and I'll go away," the voice said. Faith took several deep breaths before raising her head. Her eyes were still closed, but she could feel someone in front of her. Slowly opening her eyes, she looked into her mother's face. Blood ran down the sides of her face, part of her skull blown off by a shotgun shell. Her mother's sad eyes stared back at her, boring holes into her soul. She could smell the thick smoke from the bullet lodged in her head. The acidic taste of bile crept up in her throat and she wanted to look away, but she could not.
"You think you're such a hero, don't you little Faithy. But you couldn't save me, could you? You can't save anyone. Not even yourself."