Disclaimer: Not mine, please don't sue me.
Author's note: This one's for Resurging Crisis. You wanted more, so here you go. :)
………………………………….
Faith surveyed her city. It slept uneasily in the glare of unnatural light, the consistent traffic noise and unclean tang in the air smothering the peace. A sharp blast of fitful wind whipped her hair up into streamers, and she breathed deep. This was hers now, and the unearthly glow of Los Angeles embraced her.
She zipped her newly acquired jacket up to her breasts and smoothed out the pockets, discarding the cigarettes and call cards she found there. The pocket knife she kept. The greasy leather mostly covered the ill-fitting T-shirt and at least hid the stains, but it was too long in the arm. At least it was functional. It also kept the night off her skin. The clothes would have to do until she found something better, and the fifty-two dollars stashed in the back of her pants would come in very handy. She'd missed her last meal.
The last remnants of her disorientation soaked away at last with refreshing crispness. She finally felt truly steady on her feet, perhaps for the first time since she'd found herself in the middle of that damn building. She should really have taken the time to memorise its exact location, or even what it looked like. She doubted she'd recognise it easily again. Not that it mattered. Now that she'd decided to stay, she was sure she'd be seeing it regularly soon enough. It wouldn't take long for Angel to find her. Even if he wasn't looking, they were certain to cross paths, and she'd have to face the inevitable music. Until then, she was going to get a little independence back.
Distant windows blinked mournfully at her through the gloom as she considered them, finding obscure shapes in their patterns. Her head cleared completely as she'd taught herself, and she was delighted to find that her finely tuned Slayer senses were still there at her demand. They'd been so overwhelmed by the stench of humanity and cages for so long that she'd almost forgotten they were still waiting, lying dormant before her command. She called them up again now and revelled in the connection.
She was again able to pick out individual scents and sounds from the confusion on her rooftop and her mind automatically began sifting them. An incomprehensible shout here, the faint scent of some far off night creature there. All of them registered and were then dismissed as her tactical brain analysed and prioritised them for her. She paid them little attention. Instead, she focused back down into the alley below her to the fight that had drawn her.
As far as she could tell, the vampire had been there some time and had already fed on its victim. The heavily bearded man lay slumped against the wall where he had fallen, hopelessly bleeding what little blood he had left from the messy gashes in his neck. The vampire had not been very clean in its haste. There was no sign of a struggle on his part, and his meagre belongings lay scattered at his feet. He'd been walking the streets for a while.
The man was already dead, there was no doubt about that. From the looks of him, he'd been pretty much lifeless to begin with. Despair rose up from these streets for miles around, and Faith almost felt that if she chose to stay here too long, it might begin to permeate even her. It would be easy for someone with more to lose than her to succumb to its song.
The vampire in question was a scraggly individual with a pathetic look about him. He fought savagely, however, perhaps strengthened by his recent meal, but in that uncoordinated way common of fledglings. He would have posed little threat to Faith.
Despite this, she had hung back. Her initial reaction had been to jump right in, dispatch the vampire and launch into a tirade about the stupidity of disturbing feeding demons, especially when you were an unknowing member of the public. As she'd watched, however, she'd discovered to her surprise that this was not the case. The assailant was Wesley.
Again, instinct told her to go down there and stop him from getting himself killed, maybe give the speech about how he should know better and what the hell was he doing out here anyway? And yet still, something stopped her. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more obvious the cause of the vampire's savagery became. It was terrified.
This wasn't a case of an attack on an unwitting intruder. Wesley was attacking it. Twice she saw it try to run, try to dart past Wesley and towards the hope of escape. Twice he blocked its path. It was getting frantic. He hit it again and it snarled, whirling round to get some distance between itself and its foe. It looked desperately for an escape route, eyeing the wall for the chance to jump, but instead finding Faith's silhouetted form looking down against the sky. She smiled at it.
Wesley caught its neck and flung it against the bricks, pounding it mercilessly as it scrabbled for purchase. It threw out a flailing fist that went wide and ducked out of his reach, aiming for the debris piled in a dumpster to its side. Wesley had time to see it pull a piece of metal piping from the pile and brandish it like a weapon before it came at him, swinging wildly. It didn't take much grace to dodge the clumsy attempts.
It went on the defensive and retreated back again, fending Wesley off as it threw anything it could get a grip on in his direction. A couple of lucky hits ricocheted off his arms as he advanced, but Wesley did not slow. He continued to press forward, forcing the vampire into a tighter space. He avoided one more swipe before he leapt forward and smacked his fist into its face.
It dropped the pipe and staggered back holding its nose, its ugly face scrunched up in pain. Wesley waited for retaliation but instead got only whimpering. The creature almost seemed to shrink, defeated and pitiful. A gurgled sound emanated from behind its clasped hands and it whined. It was pleading for him to stop. Wesley sighed. The vampire's eyes watched him approach fearfully, but with its back pressed tightly against the alley wall, it had nowhere else to go. With an almost disappointed motion, Wesley swiftly staked it.
Slow clapping made him whirl, and he brought up his stake for protection. Faith smiled at his startled expression but approached carefully, jamming her hands firmly in her jacket pockets.
"Bravo", she laughed, "That was some show. Kinda missed the point though."
She indicated the body with a jerk of her chin, but Wesley's eyes stayed locked to hers. She stopped a little distance from him and he lowered the stake, if somewhat reluctantly.
"Something I can help you with, Faith?" Cool again. Cold even. It hits her like ice in her face, but she feigns normality.
"Was gonna ask you the same thing, actually. But looks like you don't need any. Ruins my fun."
He looks almost shame-faced then, turning from her slightly as he stows the stake back under his jacket. Now he won't meet her gaze. She pushes.
"In fact, you kinda beat up on that poor kid. Time was you couldn't hit an elephant with shit, now you're missing a kill on purpose? What's with that?"
His jaw clenched and he looked at her again, a challenge clear in his eyes.
"He's dead now, isn't he?"
"Yeah, whatever. You know exactly what I mean. One day soon, we're gonna be havin' a talk."
This got a reaction. An incredibly unflattering smirk distorted his face and she braced herself for the venom. It was long overdue.
"What makes you think we'll be having any such discussions in the near future? I have nothing to say to you."
He wanted to add that he didn't even know why he'd come out here in the first place, but she didn't need any more ammunition. Now that it came to it, he found that he wanted to be as far away from her as possible, and then perhaps a bit further. He couldn't quite remember why he had felt the need to go looking for her so strongly before, but it was certainly gone now. His headache simply pounded demandingly in the place of any explanation.
Faith seemed unfazed by his reply and remained in his way, making it perfectly clear that she was not going to allow him to get past before she'd said her piece. He swallowed nervously.
Faith watched as Wesley's gaze flicked to either side of her, gauging the distance to the street. Her face flushed warm with the realisation that this conversation was not going at all the way she had planned. She took a step back and pulled her arms out into the open, all the time wary of his body language. He was shifting is weight uncertainly, although she doubted he was conscious of the fact.
"Look, I know you probably didn't plan on me being here," she said, and he snorted. "But I need to know. Angel didn't just invite me over for tea and cakes. He practically abducted me."
Wesley said nothing. He continued to watch her carefully, and she got the distinct impression that he was simply trying to stall for time. The thought made her stomach roll uncomfortably.
The bitch that lived inside her head snickered at her and told her she should have expected this. She silently thanked it for its contribution and promptly slapped it upside the head. The heel of her imaginary shoe then ground it firmly into the floor. She bit her lip and tried again.
"I'm guessing nobody counted on me landing when I did. Or with you, I'm thinkin'. And you're shit scared about somethin'." She indicated him vaguely and immediately regretted it, recognising his misinterpretation in the way his face hardened. She quickly backtracked.
"As for Angel, he pretty much jumped me as soon as I could stand. Figured if he wanted me bad enough, he'd have come and got me. Looks now like he's just tryin' to make the best of accidental little me."
Wesley gave her an irritated look and moved to go around her. She sidestepped to stop him and he froze again.
"Wanna know what else? I think you're in the same position as me. You wanna be outta here as much as I do, but you know you can't. You feel it too. We were put together back there for a reason."
She stared him down steadfastly and waited as he became visibly more agitated. He threw his hands in the air. "I don't know what to tell you, Faith. I know as much about this as you do."
"Bullshit. Don't tell me you have nothing to do with this. No one gets screwed over like you have without having Angel to thank. I could see it in the way you looked at him." Faith was sure that if he'd had less control over himself then, he'd have bared his teeth at her at that point. She was glad. He wasn't supposed to like what she was saying.
"Throw me a fucking bone here," she demanded, and then forced her voice down. Someone had once told her that the harder you tried to pry a clam open, the more effort it will put against you and the tighter it will hold. Give it chance to settle and it opens of its own accord. It was a stupid fucking metaphor but it was worth a try.
She tried to match his earlier neutral tone with to convey her intentions more clearly. She wasn't looking for a fight, only answers, and she pleaded her inquiry to him. "All I know is what I saw. Something's happened, and now I'm free. I'm here."
Something in the way she said it must have communicated to him, and his face softened just a little. He thought a moment longer and took a deep breath, coming to a decision.
"And you want to know why?"
She nodded.
She watched several possible explanations play across his face as he searched for the words, then, almost as if he'd remembered something he'd forgotten, his eyes went dead again. She wanted to shake him.
"I really think you ought to ask Angel that," he rolled off monotonously.
She gritted her teeth and threw her head to one side in frustration, willing herself to stay calm. Intimidation was not going to get her what she wanted this time, but she was not renowned for her patience. Her words came out with a little more force than she'd intended.
"Don't give me that crap, Wes, you know I can't go back there. Not until I know what's going on. You're the only one I know well enough to give me the truth. Angel's far too into his sugar-coating."
He hesitated a moment, but she wouldn't back down. "Please," she said, "Just tell me."
His will gave one more brief battle against hers before it sputtered out and deflated. It noticeably gave way and he looked at the floor, all his attention on something she couldn't see.
"He's going to kill Connor," he half-whispered.
"What, who-"
"His son," he clarified quickly, as if there had been any doubt, and now the fight was gone from his eyes and desperation looked back out at her. He put a hand to his face and rubbed, walking over to the wall to lean against it. He suddenly looked very tired, and Faith wondered what exactly he thought he was doing out here.
Then, as if in answer to her unspoken question, "It's been prophesised and there's nothing I can do about it. All my sources confirm that it's just a matter of time. Angel performed a protection spell in a last ditch attempt and…" He waved his hand vaguely in her direction and fell silent. He closed his eyes in defeat.
"So, what, you don't trust him?"
Wesley looked up at her then, a guarded expression on his face. "Not entirely, no."
She didn't ask for an elaboration. She wasn't sure she wanted one. She didn't know Wesley well enough to trust his judgement, but if she knew Angel at all, she knew he'd do his damnedest to protect what was his. She also knew the danger of complacency, and that when it came to Angel, nothing was ever guaranteed.
Wesley was waiting for her response as though he expected to be kicked and she sighed.
"What's C got to say about all this?"
"She doesn't know," he told her, "She's not here."
She took that in. "Okay, so what are you going to do?"
It didn't sound to her like an incredibly idiotic question, but he obviously thought otherwise. He looked incredulous.
"What am I – what am I going to do!" He actually laughed. She took another step away, and he almost instantly sobered.
"I don't see as there's much I can do," he admitted, rubbing his eyes under his glasses. 2Angel's not exactly…rational when it comes to Connor. I'm on my own here. I'm on my own and I can't…" He stopped and looked away, and Faith respected that. She wouldn't ask any more of him.
She turned around and walked a little distance away, looking out onto the street. Stuff was fucked up here, that was for sure. And she hated it. Hated that she'd had to get involved in the first place. Hated Angel most of all for needing any of this. God damn vampire fought every day to save other people, people he'd never seen before, and he couldn't even protect his own son. She had to help him.
She looked back at where Wesley was slowly picking himself up from the wall, pummelling the heels of his hands into the sides of his temple. Yeah, she had to help him too.
He stumbled towards her without acknowledging her presence and walked past, considering this his cue to leave. Catatonic Wesley was a new one, and she frowned at the sight. She'd made up her mind before this conversation, if that's what you could call it, had even started. Forcing aside her reservations was easy when she put her new self-appointed task to the forefront of her mind, and she did it without a second thought. Mission Number One: don't let Wesley out of her sight. She followed him.
"Where are we going?" she asked jauntily, pulling alongside him with almost a skip in her step.
He glanced at her sideways with a wary look, almost as if he had never seen her before, or like he hadn't noticed she was there. This was jump-at-my-own-shadow Wesley, but this wasn't entirely new.
"What do you mean 'we'?" he asked dazedly, genuinely astonished at her question. He kept walking.
"You know, you, me, the place we're headed." She talked slowly. "Where, are, we, going?"
He was trying to ignore her, pretend she wasn't there. She had some experience with defence mechanisms, and she recognised this one immediately. Last attempt to get out of this when all other tactics had failed. Scratching and kicking wasn't working, neither was hissing and spitting. Crying or kissing just wasn't an option, not that she hadn't tried those ones a few times herself, so that left outright denial. Desperate clinging hope that she'd get bored and go away on her own. This was automatic shielding, the last defence of a tired psyche, and her last barrier to burrow through. She knew how to deal with it. It would be too easy.
When he didn't answer, she raised her eyebrows in obvious query and waved a hand in front of his face. "Hello?" she yelled. He flinched away before he could stop himself and Faith stopped in front of him.
"You know, I think I liked half-crazy, nasty Wesley better," she told him and grabbed him by the arm, slamming him against the building they were walking by. She had to hold tightly to him to stop herself from flipping down onto the sidewalk as his fist smashed across her jaw. She let go of her grip and groaned appreciatively, cupping her cheek gingerly.
She turned back grinned at him with bloody teeth as he panted at her with rage, all the light back in his eyes. She didn't think she'd ever miss a look like that, but something told her he needed it right now, and it always did seem to work for her. He trembled with barely contained violence and her smile grew wider.
"Don't touch me again," he hissed at her.
"Ya see. I knew you were in there somewhere." She spat on the floor and wiped her mouth, pleased by the way he narrowed his eyes at her. "Come on, I forgive ya. Let's go."
She conceded to his request, however, and held her hands up in a placating gesture. Half bowing to indicate he should go first, she waited for him to say something. He didn't. Again, she followed him as he stalked off in disgust.
"Am I pissing you off yet?" she asked cheerily and got an almost Angel-like growl in return. "Good. 'Cause I ain't letting you get away. We're in this together whether you like it or not and you're going to help me."
He rounded on her. "Why in sunny hell would I ever want to help you? I don't like you. You don't like me. I'm happy not to have to address that issue. I don't have time to babysit you."
"You're just full of the happy-clappies now, aren't you?" She gave him a false smile that went nicely with her tone. "I don't want hug. I don't want to hold hands. What I want is to do what I came here to do and what you were supposed to do with me. Or didn't you get that memo? We both landed on our ass at the same time and then happened to bump into each other? I know you're not that naïve."
"It doesn't matter what you want, Faith. I'm not going to watch you."
"That's too bad. Guess I'll have to do the watching for now, until you warm to the idea. I know you'll come around to it in the end." She held up her hand to stop any argument before it came out of his mouth. "It's just tough. You ain't losing me, so deal with it."
…………………
When they finally made it to the apartment, Wesley looked like he was about ready to collapse. He had not spoken another word to Faith since they'd left the street in search of a bus and had gone from desperately trying to ignore her infuriating humming all the way there to just concentrating on staying on his feet.
He'd attempted to slam the door behind him as he'd entered in order to make a point, but instead only managed to push the thing closed. Faith opened it again anyway and came in, a fake pout on her face.
"Gee, real mature, Wes. I'm hurt."
He dismissed her immediately and ignored her comments about his décor as he went about changing his clothes. Thankfully, she didn't feel the need to follow him all the way through the apartment, obviously trusting he couldn't squeeze through the bathroom window to freedom. Whether he had wanted to or not, he found he couldn't summon the energy to care anyway.
Faith examined the living room as her charge locked himself in the bathroom. She spared a brief thought for the bottle of scotch on the table before shrugging and pouring herself a glass, then proceeded to raid the cupboards for something to eat. She was disappointed to find little of much interest.
Determined to make the best of a bad situation, she went about fixing herself a sandwich and plopped down in front of the television, slightly surprised to see a game consol sat on one side. She pondered this as she did the cheap beer she'd seen in the fridge as some blond bimbo pranced across the screen screeching. She changed the channel. She never could stand that soft rock crap.
This brought her to Mission Number Two: convince Wesley to accept her here. She didn't think she'd have much trouble integrating herself quietly into the background of his life for the moment. She figured she had a good couple of days at least before he was anywhere near in a condition to really notice her properly, and she decided to take full advantage of that fact.
The bathroom door opened in the background and she pretended not to hear it, listening intently to the sounds coming from the bedroom. Each movement sounded laboured as he dressed again, sloping around like he was on auto-pilot. She had plenty of time to plan her next move.
After a good few minutes and when it seemed like Wesley wasn't going to speak, she shouted to him over the din of the TV.
"Where am I gonna crash?" she demanded round a mouthful, not taking her eyes from the screen. She noticed with satisfaction that he came around to face her at that, and she smiled serenely up at him as she chewed noisily.
Wesley had to blink a couple of times to take in the scene. Faith had commandeered his couch, her booted feet resting against the armrest as she sprawled languidly, crumbs falling unnoticed around her. His whiskey stood open in front of her.
Faith noted the lost look and almost took pity on him.
"Tell me again why you're here?" he asked, and this time the quietness wasn't any more sinister than simple exhaustion.
"Somewhere else I'm s'pposed to go?" She was avoiding the issue and they both knew it. She took another bite of her sandwich.
He seemed to accept that for the moment and nodded to himself as if she'd told him something very complicated. Sinking into the nearest chair, he regarded her thoughtfully. Faith continued to watch the screen, sucking dripping mustard from her fingers with all the charm of dog chewing a nettle.
"Those aren't your clothes," he announced after ten or so minutes, to which Faith simply offered a nonchalant shrug.
Clearly deciding not to ask, Wesley instead focused his attention on what Faith was watching.
Not paying any attention to the screen, she continued to assess the man in her peripheral vision. So far as she could tell, he no longer seemed that bothered by her presence, whether due to apathy or fatigue she didn't know. She'd certainly expected a more immediate confrontation about their history, even if it was something she'd just as soon never have mentioned again, and now that she really thought about it, that was weird. For him to be so tolerant of her so soon just seemed so…wrong.
Still, if he could ignore the white elephant, then so could she. Happily. Ugly fucker'd been following her around for too long now anyway. Making a mental note to test the water some other time she reached for her glass and knocked it back in one.
"Hope you don't mind," she said after a thought, reaching for the rest of the bottle.
She looked up to find him on another planet entirely and didn't bother repeating herself. He was done listening to her for the night.
"Guess you won't, then," she said instead. She poured herself another very generous glass and toasted him silently before leaning back into the cushions. She chuckled as a three-piece band was booed of the stage and stuffed the last corner of bread in her mouth. She almost choked when Wesley got up abruptly.
"I'm sorry that I…" he faltered miserably and pursed his lips, perhaps distracted by Faith's undignified stare, mouth full and halted mid-chew.
She accepted his unfinished apology with an almost imperceptible nod and he seemed satisfied, moving off for the bedroom gratefully. It occurred to her that she must have looked utterly bewildered, although she couldn't think why she'd acted that way. She guessed she just wasn't expecting that.
She swallowed the rest hastily and sat up, taking a breath to say…something. But when she looked round she found that her audience was gone, and she let it out as a sigh. Wesley lay where he had fallen like he was beached, fully clothed and half falling to the floor. He was going to ache when he woke up.
"Don't you worry about me," she told him quietly, "I'll be fine right here."