Animatus

Notes: Thanks for the reviews. Keep them coming!

Previously:

"When do we leave?" Anya asked.

"Tomorrow morning," Faith replied. "We'll head back to the college and poke around, see what we can find. No matter what we find, we come back here before nightfall."

Chapter Six: The Second Journey:

Faith fell into a fitful sleep plagued by strange dreams that hovered on the edge of her consciousness. Always, she could hear the pitiful moaning of the zombies in the blackness of her mind, a constant droning that comforted her in the midst of the blank silence that otherwise pervaded her sleeping thoughts. She dreamed of the night that she and Buffy finally had met in battle. A cold knife slipped into her stomach, but she did not feel any pain, only relief. She thought that it was strange that she would feel relief when facing the end of her days, but her death signified the conclusion of the uncontrollable spiral that her life had become. Buffy stood before her, shock crossing her face, and regret lighting in her eyes.

Faith could taste blood slipping into her mouth. It tasted coppery and it made her feel sick. She remembered that she had said something to Buffy before she fell off of the roof, but the words escaped her. She stumbled backwards and then she was falling. The air parted beneath her and, for a moment, she was free. Then she hit the ground. Even in her dream, she knew that was not right. She had landed on a truck, not pavement. Faith's sleeping eyes looked up into a clear blue sky. The sun was behind her, traveling swiftly to its resting place. She could smell smoke. It was thick and heavy, filling her nostrils with a sickening sweet aroma that vaguely reminded her of winters in Boston in the industrial district.

"You have to get up, you have to keep going," she heard someone say. Leaning up on her elbows, she stared through a chain linked fence at Buffy, who stood on the other side, gripping the metal rungs tightly. Tears were cascading down her face, dripping onto the ground.

"Buffy?" She asked confusedly.

"No," the voice said again. "You have to get up."

"What?" Faith asked.

"Get your ass up, it's morning!" The voice said loudly and firmly. Faith's eyes flashed open and she saw Anya standing over her, bouncing impatiently back and forth on the balls of her feet. "You said that we were leaving in the morning," Anya stated. "Well, it's morning. Let's leave."

Faith groaned and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "Alright," she muttered, disgruntled. "I'm getting up."

"Why did you call me Buffy anyway?" Anya grumbled. "I don't sound anything like her. Nor do I look anything like her, thank you very much. I actually know how to dye my hair," she mumbled as she walked away.

Faith watched her for several long moments with confusion written across her face until Joyce spoke. "When she was trying to get you up, you called her Buffy," she clarified.

"I was dreaming," Faith said, pulling herself up into a sitting position.

"What were you dreaming about?" Joyce asked.

Faith remembered the knife sliding into her belly. She remembered the look in Buffy's eyes – regret. She also remembered smelling smoke and seeing the blonde Slayer crying as she stood on the other side of a chain linked fence. But she did not know what any of it meant. "I don't remember," Faith lied as she rose to her feet.

"Are you sure?" Joyce pressed. "Buffy told me that sometimes her dreams were important. Slayer dreams, she called them. She said that she could see the future through her dreams."

"I wasn't seeing the future," Faith said irritably. "Only the past."

"Oh," Joyce said, closing her lips tightly and nodding. "I see."

Faith sighed and ran a hand through her hair, which desperately needed to be washed. "She did what she had to do. Don't feel guilty for her."

"There had to have been another way," Joyce offered.

"Not for me," Faith murmured. "What is she doing?" She asked, nodding towards Anya.

Joyce smiled kindly. "She's been packing ever since dawn. She really wants to get out there."

Anya shoved several boxes of ammunition into her pack and smiled with satisfaction, wiping her hands together. "All done," she stated. "I've packed enough food for us for two days, just in case. Water for the same. We both have guns, knives, and ammunition. Are you planning to take the crossbow?" She asked Faith.

The dark haired Slayer shook her head. "I thought I'd leave that here," she said, looking over at Giles. "In case you have any trouble." Anya handed her one of the shotguns, while she took the other.

"Thank you," Giles said, "I'd much prefer the crossbow to a gun."

"That's what I thought," Faith stated.

"So are you ready or what?" Anya pressed. "Daylight's wasting."

"Why are you so eager to get out there?" Faith asked.

"I told you," Anya replied, "I want to kill zombies."

"This isn't just about killing zombies," Faith reinforced. "Yes, there will be the killing of zombies; I don't think that can be helped. But we're trying to find Buffy. We don't want to piss off every zombie at the college and make it impossible for us to get anywhere."

"I understand that," Anya nodded. "But if we happen to find some in a dark hallway where none of the others will hear, I'm gonna shoot them."

"I don't think that you can talk her out of this," Giles muttered.

"I don't think I can either," Faith agreed.

"Here," Joyce said, handing Faith a prepackaged sandwich, ones of the trendy kinds that had previously been sold at the Bronze for more money than Faith had ever possessed. Faith accepted it gratefully. Though she had been uncertain of her stance on food the day before, she was quite hungry. Her stomach growled loudly as she took a bite of the sandwich.

"Apparently, there's a whole bunch of those in the back store room," Liz said.

"I'm surprised it kept this long without refrigeration," Faith spoke in between bites.

"I'm not," Giles grumbled. "You can make anything last forever if you genetically modify it enough."

"Purist," Faith murmured jokingly. Giles smiled softly.

"I just like to know that something was real at one time before I eat it," he replied.

"Oh, it was real," Liz offered. "At one time," she added with a smirk.

Faith quickly polished off her sandwich and wiped her hands on her jeans. "You ready?" She asked, looking over at Anya. Anya rolled her eyes.

"I've been ready since the sun came up," she answered, handing the Slayer her backpack. "By the way," she asked, "why do you have a gun in there with only one bullet? Isn't that kind of a waste?"

Faith took the pack and slung it around her shoulders. "Don't ask me about that," she said, moving past the ex-vengeance demon.

"Why not?" Anya questioned, shouldering her pack as well, as she followed after Faith.

"Faith!" Joyce called. The dark haired Slayer stopped and turned.

"Yeah?" She asked.

"Be careful," Joyce said. "You know that I want you to bring Buffy back, but don't get yourself killed trying to be a hero."

"I'm not a hero," Faith replied darkly.

"Good," Joyce stated.

"Be back here before nightfall," Giles added.

"We don't want you guys stuck out there with them," Liz emphasized.

"We'll see you all soon," Faith said. She turned and descended the stairs with Anya at her heels.

"Why can't I ask you about the gun?" She asked again.

"I'm not going to use that gun," Faith replied. "Not now, not ever. Just leave it alone."

"But where did you get it?" Anya pressed.

"At the hospital," Faith sighed.

"Really?" Anya questioned.

"Yes, really," Faith affirmed. "A nurse had it. She shot herself in the head with it and left one bullet for me in case I woke up."

"Oh," Anya muttered. "I get it. Bad memories."

"Where do you think you're going?" A voice boomed out as the two women crossed the floor towards the door.

Faith and Anya stopped, both looking over at each other warily. One of the soldiers stepped forward with his gun lying lazily in his hands. The two girls held their shotguns firmly, prepared to fight if need be in order to leave. "We're gonna take a walk," Faith answered flippantly.

The soldier eyed her cautiously for several long moments. "I don't think so," he finally said.

"I thoughts soldiers weren't supposed to think," Faith quipped.

"We were given orders to stay here," the man replied impatiently. "So we're staying here."

"You can stay here all you want," Faith answered, grabbing Anya by the elbow and pulling her towards the door. "But we're leaving."

Faith heard the distinct click of the man pulling back the hammer of his gun. Rearranging it in his hands, he pointed it at the dark haired Slayer. Faith sighed and turned again. Anya stood beside her, watching the scene apathetically. "You gonna shoot me?"

"Opening that door could pose a risk to us all," the soldier argued.

"It's daylight," Faith reasoned.

"Why does that matter?" The man asked.

"They don't come out during the day," Faith replied.

"They did on the day of the attack," the man stated. "And you're not opening that door."

Faith was about to respond when she heard Anya sigh impatiently. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the ex-vengeance demon lift her shotgun, point it in the air, and pull the trigger. A loud bang resounded throughout the Bronze. All eyes turned to face them, wondering what would happen. Faith glanced sharply over at Anya. "Now that I've gotten your attention," the ex-vengeance demon said calmly, "I want to get some things straightened out. Firstly, we are walking out of that door. You can try to stop us all you want, but I'm telling you right now, I have no problem shooting anyone in this damn place, with few exceptions," she said, pausing as she allowed her eyes to fall on the faces of the soldiers, who had stepped forward with their guns leveled. "I'm a loose fucking cannon and you don't want to mess with me. We're leaving and when we come back, you're gonna open that door, or I'm gonna blow someone's head off. Are we clear?" She asked.

Silence fell in the room. Faith looked up to see Giles watching them from the balcony with a smirk on his face. At first, she had wondered why Giles had supported Anya's decision to go with Faith to the college. She had doubted that Anya would be useful in any respect. Now, however, as she watched three trained and deadly soldiers glance nervously back and forth at each other, while slowly lowering their weapons, she knew that he had been right. "You're fierce, you know that?" Faith whispered over to her.

"I know," Anya said, smiling smugly.

"Alright," one of the soldiers finally said. "But you better not bring any of those things back with you."

"Not part of the plan," Faith muttered as she and Anya walked towards the door. Taking a deep breath, Faith pulled it open. The streets outside were silent. She could not feel the presence of anything supernatural lurking in the shadows, though she no longer trusted her instincts. Her Slayer senses had not warned her of the little, zombie girl that had been hiding in the sporting goods store. She and Anya walked out onto the street and let the door clang shut behind them. It rang of doom. Silence settled around them and they were completely alone.

"It's okay to be scared, right?" Anya asked, glancing around warily.

"More than okay," Faith answered.

"Are you scared?" She asked, looking over at Faith as they began walking.

"Yes," Faith admitted.

Anya smiled slightly. "From what I heard, big, bad Faith would never admit to being afraid."

"I'm not big, bad Faith anymore," the dark haired girl replied. "I'm just Faith."

"No offense," Anya said, "but we might need big, bad Faith when shit hits the fan."

Faith smirked. "If you're afraid that I'm gonna punk out on you, you really don't know me all that well."

"Xander mentioned you a couple of times," Anya said softly as they walked.

Faith tensed. She knew that she had hurt him deeply the night she took his virginity so carelessly. Though she knew that it was wrong looking back on it, she had not understood why he had been upset at the time. Most of the men that she had been with in a sexual way had treated her the same as she had treated Xander. They never felt remorse for their actions. She quickly learned not to feel guilty either. It had seemed to her as though everyone in the world used each other to get what they wanted, despite the cost. She was starting to see things differently. "Did he?" She asked quietly.

"He said some bad things," Anya admitted. "But he said some good things too. I don't think he blamed you completely."

"No?" Faith questioned.

"Like they say," Anya replied, "time heals all wounds. I think when he looked back on everything, he knew that it wasn't just you that had made some mistakes. Everyone did."

"Why are you telling me this?" Faith asked.

"I know a thing or two about vengeance," Anya smirked. "What you did, it was all about vengeance, and I know that you feel guilty after a while for all of the things that you've done."

"Did you?" Faith asked.

"Of course," Anya said. "You can't maim and torture people for hundreds of years without starting to feel bad about it. But the thing I also know, that most people don't want to recognize, is that there's always something, or someone, that drives a person to want to commit an act of vengeance. You don't get there without a catalyst."

"I guess not," Faith admitted.

"What was yours?" Anya asked.

Faith thought for several long moments, mulling over the other girl's question in her mind. The sun still sat low on the horizon and the duo was making better time than the group had of the day before. Already, they were passing through the center of town, towards the city limits. "Buffy," Faith said softly.

"It always starts with someone that you love," Anya nodded.

Faith glanced over at her sharply. "I don't love Buffy," she denied.

"Yes, you do," Anya furthered.

"No," Faith shook her head, "I really don't."

"Really?" Anya demanded. "So you killed two people and turned evil all over someone you didn't really have any warm and fuzzy feelings for? All for someone you just liked a little bit in a strictly platonic way?"

"Why am I even talking about this with you?" Faith asked, though she did not expect Anya to answer. She was starting to figure out, however, that Anya answered everything.

"Because we have a long walk ahead of us and there's nothing else to do but talk until we find some zombies to kill," Anya replied simply.

Faith glared over at her, but smiled. "I'm not admitting to anything," she said.

"You don't have to," Anya replied happily, "I know the truth. I'm very perceptive."

"Are you?" Faith asked, laughing.

"What's so funny?" Anya demanded.

"Nothing," Faith said, shaking her head.

"So what scares you more than zombies?" Anya asked.

Faith thought for a moment. "Love," she answered.

"Going existential with the question," Anya smiled. "But that makes sense. After all, you won't admit to loving Buffy, even though you do. You turned evil because you loved Buffy, and she wouldn't give you the time of day, even though you won't admit to any of that either."

"What's your point?" Faith interrupted.

"It just makes sense," Anya shrugged.

"Fine," Faith replied. "What are you more afraid of than zombies?"

"Bunnies," Anya said immediately. Faith looked over at her in surprise.

"What?" She asked, thinking that she had not heard the other girl correctly.

"Bunnies," Anya repeated.

"You're afraid of bunnies?" Faith asked, laughing heartily.

"Yes," Anya insisted. "They're very creepy. Twitchy, little noses," she muttered and shuddered.

"Well, don't worry," Faith said. "I don't think we're gonna run into any zombie bunnies."

Anya glared over at her, but a smile tugged at her lips. "Now you've done it," she said. "The college is gonna be full of them."

Faith sighed. Though the college was not full of her imaginary zombie bunnies, it was full of the normal kind of zombies, which were dangerous enough. The girls continued on in silence, walking for an hour before they reached the city limits. The mile of road leading to the college stretched out before them. They paused, ate some food, and continued. Faith felt much better that day than she had the day before. The effects of her prolonged sleep seemed to be wearing off; her head no longer pained her and her body felt rested and rejuvenated. Her Slayer strength was starting to have a positive effect.

They walked the road leading to the campus quietly, slowly becoming aware that the claustrophobic silence surrounding them was being broken by desolate, hungry wails. They reached the top of the hill and looked down. Anya drew in a sharp breath. "That's a lot of zombies," she stated.

Faith nodded. She could feel Buffy's energy again, pulsing like a beacon of light in the dark. It was close. "She's here," Faith said softly.

"Do you know where?" Anya asked.

"No," Faith shook her head. "But we're gonna find her."