Summary: I guess it's not much of a One Shot anymore huh? A look at a secret relationship between Buffy and Faith in Season 7.
Disclaimer: None. Nope Nobody. Not me. Don't own 'em.
Mad World
"How many casualties?"
"Seven."
"Take them out back. We'll have a memorial, or burial, or something later."
Was it inevitable? Could it be expected that in a surprise attack of war there would be no casualties? Could a forty-five minute attack of 10 blind men really take out seven girls, who of the which were trained non-stop, every day, for the past month? Buffy was beginning to believe the Powers That Be were not on her side anymore. Would they ever be?
It had been a full 12 hours since the attack. The cleanup crew was just beginning to finish. Xander had managed to rehinge the door and apply some safety boards to the broken windows. The house was albeit darker now.
It had been a full twenty-four hours since Faith and Angel departed. Buffy's mind wasn't sure what to care about more: the safety of the two she cared the most about, or the new lack of potential slayers at hand. The idea of 'trap' was still fresh inside the Slayer's brain. If there hadn't been anything to fight they would be home now. If there had been they would have fought and come back. The only reason for them to be gone this long was if there was something to fight, and even if there was they would come back and get help because obviously it was too much for them to handle.
She would go help them.
She had to. They obviously needed it and she had ignored that fact for nearly twenty-four hours now. Things would be fine here at the house. There was still Giles, Willow, and God forbid Anya to take care of things. Now, she would go help them and there was no changing of her mind.
Buffy was ginger in stepping over what blatantly remained of the destruction. She didn't want to touch any of the blood stains, didn't even want to look at them, and surely didn't want to see the bodies that leaked them.
She headed quickly upstairs to prepare. It seemed all she would need were weapons. Lots and lots of weapons.
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"You were always trouble. Just a… somethin' in the way. You ruined everything! Y'know why yur' Daddy left us? Know why he never visited, or called you? Jus' sent a lousy five dollar bill every Christmas? 'Cause of you. IT WAS BECAUSE OF YOU!"
She swore she could smell the alcohol dripping off the Bostonian drawl. But it was just an illusion. Inwardly, at the back of her mind, she knew her mother wasn't standing there before her. She knew it was just a game, but it all sounded so true. It was true. It had to be. What other solutions were there?
Through a swollen shut right eye, Faith could just make out the shifting image of her mother. Time for a new torturer. The Turok-Han had made meat of her for what seemed like the whole night. He wasn't ready to stop, though neither was she. He circled her ailing body, licking his lips hungrily until attacking again. His assails now were just as fierce as the first. A swift uppercut to the temple and another to the mouth resulted in a sudden, brief coughing fit, allowing blood and a few teeth to leave the Slayer's jaws
She supposed in some morbid way that it was possible that she deserved this. Maybe there was just repent from everything she had done. What with the Mayor, and the body switching, Faith could think of plenty of reasons for why she would deserve this.
The form of her mother was dissolving, twisting and contorting until a new image had appeared.
"It was because of you that Allen Finch died. It was because of you that half of Sunnydale High's Senior Class nearly died. It was because of you the Council decided that one slayer was enough. It was all because of you. Do you get that now?" The petite blonde fully formed and stepped closer, closer to Faith, and then bent down to her knees to look at her straight in the eye. "I don't think the world was ready for someone like you."
The image of Buffy kept Faith anchored for the next few moments. It was bliss. Although the things she said weren't particularly accurate for the other slayer, Faith found peace in simply watching her. If she could just stay conscious for awhile longer… if she could just make it so that she could see the real Buffy agai-
The pinned Slayer let out a wrenching scream from the bottom of her throat. One glance to her left nearly put the stoic mind into arrest. With some sort of rusty nail or spike it had found, the Turok-han had managed to slide the sharp ended weapon perfectly though her palm and into the rock wall behind her.
It wouldn't take three guesses as to what would happen next.
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Buffy checked her supply just once more. She couldn't be more prepared, she thought. There were small, sleek looking daggers hidden just above her shoes in the case of bringers appearing, numerous stakes stuffed into her pockets for Turok-han, and her personal favourite, the trusty crossbow, good for killing and maiming any sorts of enemies. She had yet to tell anyone of her plan, for nobody needed to know. There would be disagreements all around, and then possibly the idea of why she didn't trust in Faith or Angel. And that could lead to other things.
Many of the inhabitants of the attacked home were too busy with finishing cleaning up, mourning for that of the others who weren't so fortunate in surviving, and preparing the bodies for their makeshift memorial. It was just too easy to slip outside and not return.
Buffy hadn't driven in quite awhile, and found that it was more difficult than before, especially when Angel had been so vague as to where they were going. All she could remember was docks. They were somewhere near the docks. She could always track Faith though. It was a Slayer thing. She could feel their connection nearly anywhere and find her way to the Rogue Slayer. And that's what she intended to do.
A twenty minute or so drive took the Slayer from the inner skirts of Sunnydale, to the outer and less welcoming parts of the harbours. Now, time for a goose chase. The connection was minimal when she had left the house, but now it had grown to a soft hum in her chest, signalling that she was indeed closer. The docks had thankfully been correct.
Once the car was lazily parked, albeit over and under a curb, Buffy waste no time in the attempt to find her two counterparts. Like a metal detector searching for her gold, the Slayer moved quickly and stealthily with only the soft humming of Faith's presence floating nearby. She moved along boardwalks and docks, feeling out the tentatively growing feeling. She was close by.
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The only feeling that ran through the numbing body was pain. She was infested and infatuated with pain. Simply being hurt. Each, juddering, tattered breath the Slayer took in was pain in its worst form. How was she still conscious? Oh, right, shallow cuts. She remembered the technique only because she had once used it herself.
Her limbs were trembling in each direction, oozing and spilling a river of blood starting from each palm and ending in a growing puddle not too far away. It was getting easier and easier to think she would die this way. It had been almost two days already and there still was no one coming to save her.
For now, the Turok-Han had disappeared, leaving Faith to sit and bask, and maybe have another chat with the First. However, so far, the First's new favourite form to be in had become Buffy and the bogus image of the blonde Slayer was finding more entertainment in watching her new pet than anything else.
The last remaining bits of hope had just begun to drain away inside the Slayer, when a sudden, soft humming sort of feeling began to overtake her.
Buffy.
She was close by. She had to be. It must have been the Slayer connection, she decided. It led Buffy to her. Buffy was coming, Buffy was coming…
The excitement was too much. She just had to last another few minutes that was all. And then Buffy would be here.
The thought mantra began and lasted what seemed like hours that passed. The humming was growing stronger and stronger inside of her. It grew until it seemed their connection was tangible sitting next to Faith. In a haze of blurred vision, she turned and she was there, smiling brightly and hopefully at her with tears running down each cheek.
Faith wasn't sure when exactly Buffy had arrived, but nevertheless soon found peace with the now exuberant hum connecting both of them.
Buffy had strenuously found the entrance of the hell-mouth, completed a full escapade throughout it, and finally found her treasure. Her counterpart was falling apart at the seams, it looked like. For the longest moment Buffy could sit still, their eyes connected and both began to understand these feelings inside. The moment came and went before Buffy finally wrenched her eyes way to begin removing her lover from her prison.
Placing one of her own hands across Faith's and the other just touching the nail that imprisoned her, Buffy slowly, steadily began to pull. The nail removed itself and dropped a numb hand back to Faith's side. Buffy repeated the process with the other arm until she had finally been released. The dazed, sleepy look growing in her Slayer's eyes told Buffy that rest was much needed. Before Faith could fall into unconsciousness, if she was to, Buffy leaned close to her ear and quietly asked, "Where's Angel?"
Faith glanced furtively to the right, staying silent. Buffy was tentative, but looked in the direction she was pointed where the First had taken Angel's form once more.
"Hello, lover."
"Angel! God, are you… okay? What happened?" Buffy was slow to leave Faith's side, but eventually made it beside Angel. She leaned forward, arms outstretched and moved in for a hug that evaporated within her. Oh…
"Oops." The vision taunted, his cocky grin and slanted stance returned. "You should be more careful in who you trust, Buffy. You never know who is going to pay for your mistakes." He glanced towards Faith again, his smile broadening.
Buffy stared in slight confusion, slight defeat, at the apparition. Tricked. She had been tricked again. And this time the consequence may not just be a few members of their army, but it may be Faith. She glanced towards the other Slayer for just one brief second before moving back towards her and helping her to her feet. They had to get out of here.
She held Faith at bay while helping the indignant slayer up and out of the hell-mouth. The rest of their journey back to the car became a miasma as Buffy brought her equal to the car. Sputtering and moaning along the way, Faith let her dignity down for the time being to allow Buffy to help her. The ride home, a bit bumpier than Buffy wished, brought the two Slayers back to Slayer Central within minutes. It was late; most of the lights were turned out. This was a good thing, Buffy decided. She didn't really feel up to explaining the whole ordeal, and neither did Faith.
Without a word, Buffy led the shattered slayer up the stairs ever so slowly and into her own bedroom. They would take care of things in the morning. For now, both were content with just rest. They settled into their usual positions though Buffy had managed to snake her arms around Faith before letting her drift into sleep. When she was certain she was asleep, Buffy took it to herself to examine what larger wounds Slayer healing had yet to cure. Her hands were the worst. Two gaping holes in her palm had still ceased to stop bleeding. If one were to squint just hard enough, you may be able to see straight through.
As unsettled as Buffy was, she managed to find her own brief encounter with sleep. Neither Slayer moved through the night. Their bodies stay comfortably close with arms wrapped around in all directions. And that was how they were found the next morning.
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