Animatus

Notes: Thanks for the reviews. Again, sorry it's taking so long to get these updates out, but things are just crazy right now.

Previously:

"Just, promise me one thing," Riley said pleadingly. "If I do…turn…kill me quickly. I don't want the last thing I remember before meeting my maker to be the desire to eat someone."

"I promise," Buffy said sadly. She surveyed the man sitting in front of her. His face looked pale, though that could have been a result of the blood loss. Small beads of sweat dotted his forehead and his lips looked cracked and broken. Glancing down at his hands, she saw that they were shaking. Tightening her grip on her gun, she realized that it was only a matter of time before he would die. What happened after that, she would have to wait to see.

Chapter Twenty: What Lingers Within:

The sun was shining in through the window of the library, illuminating the dust that lingered amongst the ancient tomes and bound rolls of parchment. Faith rested her chin on her palm, sitting at one of the desks in the center of the room with a pen tucked loosely in her other hand, and gazed out of the window at the trees blowing the breeze outside. Summer had just dawned on Boston and the trees were encompassed in a shield of vibrant green. Faith could almost feel the sticky warmth seeping in through the window, coating her skin in a layer of humidity.

The mansion was silent. Kate had departed earlier in the morning, for what she had not said, and left Faith to her studies in the library. Faith glanced back down at her Latin lesson book. She was learning quickly. Though she had never performed well in school, Kate seemed to have beckoned forth her academic side. Faith was excited that she was exceeding her Watcher's expectations. She had never exceeded anyone's expectations before, and now, she was motivated to become a better person than she had been prior to her calling as the Slayer. Faith tapped the pen impatiently against her notebook. Though she was advancing quickly through her studies of Latin, and they held her interest captivated, she could not focus on anything but the rustling leaves outside of her window.

The young girl leaned back in her chair and sighed heavily. She had been slaying vampires for almost a year. Her muscles had hardened and sat beneath her skin confidently, waiting for use, and eagerly anticipating the moment when she would unleash them on a foe. Vampires in Boston had become afraid of her. She held power now and she enjoyed the feeling. Months ago, she had been no one. No creature of the night would ever have been afraid of her; on the contrary, vampires would have laughed at her false arrogance and assumed toughness and simply drained her as if she presented no challenge. Though the vampires were afraid of her, the people that she saved were terrified of her as well. They did not understand who or what she was, or how she was able to destroy such a powerful monster so easily. No one ever thanked her for her efficient administration of her duties; in fact, they would stare up at her, consternation staining their faces, and they would run from her as if she was something terrible to behold.

When she had brought this up to Kate, her Watcher had simply smiled and told her that a Slayer's job was often a thankless one, but that someone had to do it. Faith could accept that notion easily enough, though she still wanted someone to appreciate what she did. Faith smiled slightly when she saw the glittering silver bracelet that Christy had given her on her thirteenth birthday two years before resting happily on her wrist. Another birthday had come; Faith was fifteen years old. Looking around the library, she realized, not the first time, how drastically her life had changed in the past two years. She did not know whether she had thought that she and Christy would have been together forever, but, she had never imagined in the gravest of her nightmares that her girlfriend would be murdered in front of her.

Faith still awoke late in the night, covered in sweat and panting, from dreams in which she could hear the echoing of a gun and see a splash of red blood staining the road. She never saw Christy's face in her dreams, however, and despite her best efforts, Faith found that her girlfriend's face was starting to fade from her memory. Everyday that passed, she lost a little bit more. Closing her eyes, Faith rubbed her face wearily. She could feel herself growing older with each second, the gravity of her duties settling upon her shoulders like a great weight. Vaguely, she heard a car door slam. She could hear her Watcher's heeled feet clicking up the sidewalk. The rattling of Kate fiddling with the lock on the door brought a smile to her face, which stayed when she saw the older woman appear through the doorway.

"Hello, Faith," Kate said warmly. "How's the Latin coming?"

"Slow," Faith admitted.

"Ah," Kate replied, smiling. "No patience for dead languages on such a beautiful day?"

"Something like that," Faith replied good-naturedly.

"Well, perhaps we can do something else. I think you'll enjoy it more," Kate intimated.

"Yeah?" Faith asked, forcibly restraining her excitement. She loved training with her Watcher and she imagined that Kate was referring to a training session, rather than anything else. Though Kate was not a Slayer, and thus did not possess supernatural strength, she encouraged Faith to unleash her full strength when they were training. Faith relished the feel of her releasing all of her strength upon the punching bags and gloves that Kate would wear when she was able to practice with weapons. She felt restless when she was not moving, but training pleased her muscles almost as much as fighting a vampire did.

"I bought something for you today," Kate said, sitting down in the chair across from Faith. Faith noticed, at that moment, the brown paper wrapped package tucked underneath her Watcher's arm. "I know that it's your birthday today," she added.

"How did you know?" Faith asked confusedly. "I never told you."

"The Coven identified you as a Potential Slayer several months before you were actually called. In that time, the Council gathered as much information about you as was possible. They were going to send me here to train you regardless of your status. But the day I was en route to Boston, they contacted me and told me that you had been called," Kate explained.

"So you knew all about me before you even came?" Faith asked.

"Yes," Kate admitted guiltily. "Anyway," she continued, "here." She slid the package across the desk to Faith. Gingerly unwrapping the brown paper, Faith revealed a white box. "Open in," Kate encouraged. Faith smiled softly and lifted the lid of the box. Lying inside was a silver blade with a grooved leather handle that shimmered in the light.

"It's beautiful," Faith whispered, picking up the knife. The handle fit perfectly in her hand. "Thank you," she said, blinking away the wetness that had formed behind her eyes.

"You're welcome," Kate nodded. "You look good with it. Now," she said, "it's your birthday. What would you like to do?"

"I don't know," Faith shrugged. "I've never really done anything special."

"Well," Kate said quickly, to hide the sadness that she felt for the young girl, "let's start a new tradition then, shall we?"

"Like what?" Faith asked, smiling as she leaned back in her chair. Her eyes drifted down to the knife and she wondered what she had done to warrant such a beautiful gift. But she smiled, realizing that Kate did not give her the gift to reward her for anything or to bribe her into doing something; instead, Kate had given her the gift simply because she cared, much like Christy had given her the bracelet for no other reason than the love that she had felt for Faith.

"Let's get ice cream," Kate suggested, rising to her feet. Faith chuckled, but nodded.

"It's not too childish for a Slayer to get ice cream?" She joked.

"I won't tell anyone," Kate winked. Faith watched the older woman walk out of the library and followed her. As they left the house, the warm sun touched her face and Faith felt complete; she had every that she needed, a destiny that she could call her own, and a friend who quickly was becoming the mother that she should have had.

…………………………

Buffy stared across the room at Riley, realizing for the first time that her Slayer senses were starting to warn her against him. She shuddered, knowing what she would have to do, and wondering if she could actually perform the act. The gun weighed heavily in her hand. She squeezed the grip so tightly that her knuckles were turning a ghostly shade of white. Buffy closed her eyes briefly, inhaled deeply, and exhaled. Slowly releasing her grip to a reasonable level of strength, she leaned back against the wall, and opened her eyes. Riley was shivering. The blood had stopped flowing from the wound several minutes after they had locked themselves in the room. However, Riley was becoming worse and Buffy knew that he had not been shot, or wounded in any other way. Instead, he had been bitten, or scratched, by one of the zombies and he was turning. Had he been wounded any other way, his health would not have so rapidly declined.

Riley was not just turning into a zombie; he was dying. But he had requested that Buffy wait until she was sure that he had become one of the walking dead before she shot him. She supposed that Riley wanted to squeeze every last second out of life while he could, even if his last moments were not pleasant. "Buffy?" He asked weakly, forcibly prying open his eyes.

"Yeah?" She replied quietly, gazing at him with pity in her eyes.

"This is all my fault," he said agonizingly.

Buffy furrowed her brows confusedly. "This isn't your fault," she corrected. "You didn't know that any of this was going to happen."

"I should have," Riley admonished himself.

"What're you talking about?" Buffy asked, not wanting Riley to die thinking that he was responsible for the end of the world as they had known it, but also curious as to what Riley knew about the zombie attack. He had never spoken to her before about its cause, but he seemed willing to discuss it now.

"The Initiative," Riley wheezed, pausing to catch his breath. His hands were shaking. A cold, clammy sweat had broken out all over his body and whenever he breathed, he felt like a fire was burning in his lungs. He could not stop shivering from the cold that had seemed to settle in the room and he wondered how Buffy had managed to stay warm.

"What about it?" Buffy pressed, leaning forward, and resting her elbows on her knees. She carefully placed the gun on the packing crate next to her and focused all of her attention on Riley's words.

"They did experiments," Riley explained slowly. "Maggie didn't think that I knew. But I did. I saw things down there. I didn't understand why they wanted to experiment on the demons. But I guessed that they needed to learn more about them before they could neutralize them."

"Experiments," Buffy muttered. Perhaps the Initiative had been experimenting with zombies, or, perhaps it had created them.

"They had started something new a couple of months ago. It was all very hush hush. No one spoke about it. But the best scientists were sent down to sub level three," Riley continued.

"What was on sub level three?" Buffy asked eagerly.

Riley shrugged and the movement required more effort than it should have. "I don't know. Not for certain anyway," he replied. Coughing, he paused for several long moments to gather his breath before he continued. "Some of the guys had their theories though."

"What did they think was going on?" Buffy asked inquisitively.

"One guy thought that they were testing the DNA of the hostiles. He said that he had hooked up with one of the women scientists and she had told him everything. No one really believed him though. Another guy claimed to have gone down there and said that he saw the scientists testing some kind of virus. He said that he saw a guy strapped onto a table and that a doctor injected him with something. But I don't know. All of it could have been rumors," Riley finished.

"Or maybe not," Buffy responded gravely. "Maybe it is a virus. After all, it spreads to others."

"Or maybe hell just ran out of room," Riley joked.

"That's not funny," Buffy said, but smiled anyway.

"I'm sorry," Riley said seriously.

"For what?" She asked.

"Everything. But especially for this. I shouldn't have asked you to come in here," he regretted.

"I want to do this," Buffy insisted.

"You want to shoot me?" Riley smiled. "Guess you really hate me, huh?"

"No," Buffy said quickly, before she realized that he was joking with her again. Then she smiled softly. "No," she reiterated. "But I wouldn't want anyone else to do it. I care for you too much to let some stranger kill you."

"Thanks," he said. "I think….I think I'm just going to go to sleep for a while."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Buffy began, but she could see that Riley was starting to lose his battle with death. His eyes drifted shut and he slumped slightly against the wall. Reaching over, Buffy grabbed her gun. She could still see the gentle rise and fall of his chest, but it was becoming shallower. Finally, after several long and agonizing moments, it stopped altogether.

Buffy sucked in a breath and waited, her fingers restlessly exploring the grip of the gun. Finally, his body began to stir. Cold dread spread throughout the blonde Slayer's limbs. Though she knew that it was likely that Riley had been bitten and would thus turn, she had held a lingering hope that he would not. His eyes opened, but Riley was gone. In his place, a ravenous, horrific creature arose. His eyes were dead and stained yellow. He lunged forward, but Buffy was waiting. With her gun aimed at his head, she squeezed the trigger. The bullet shot forth from the gun, struck him in the skull, and ceased his second life before it had begun.

…………………………….

"What do you think is going on in there?" Joyce asked, crossing her arms across her chest, and walking up to Faith.

"I don't know," Faith said worriedly. As she glanced around the room, surveying the people left, she realized that they would have to leave the Bronze. They could not risk another attack.

"What're you thinking?" Giles asked, looking over at her curiously.

"We have to get out of here," Faith muttered. "If not tomorrow, the next day. We can't linger here anymore."

"Why do you t-think that they attacked us?" Tara wondered aloud.

"They've run out of food," Giles guessed. "We're the only ones left."

"That's a comforting thought," Willow murmured, wrapping her arms protectively around Tara.

"Do you think that Riley will turn?" Joyce asked.

The dark haired Slayer sighed and shrugged. "I don't know."

"Hey," the soldier named Jay said, approaching Faith, "I'm sorry, I don't know your name."

"Faith," she replied, watching him warily, though out of all of the soldiers she trusted him the most.

"I don't know what's going on in there," Jay began. "But I know one thing."

"What's that?" Faith asked.

"We can't stay here much longer. To be honest, I don't know those other guys very well," he said, motioning to his comrades. "I don't really know you either, but I saw that you know how to handle yourself when shit hits the fan. And if Riley dies…"

"What're you trying to say?" Faith interrupted.

"We need a plan," Jay finished. "And we need someone to carry it out."

"You want me to lead you?" Faith asked in surprise.

"Not just me," Jay said. "I talked with some of the other people…the ones that you helped save earlier. They all want you to lead us. They noticed that when everyone else was afraid to leave, you want out to bring more people here, despite the danger to yourself. They trust you…we, trust you."

Faith chuckled humorlessly to herself. She had never been a leader and the prospect of the responsibility lay heavily on her shoulders. "Faith," Giles said softly, capturing her attention. "You know that Buffy will stand beside you and help you. So will we. You don't have to do this alone." Giles could see the hesitation on the former rogue's features, but he knew that Faith could handle herself. Though she may not have looked to herself as a leader, Giles could see one growing inside of her everyday. She just needed an opportunity to discover that herself.

"Alright," Faith said. "Give me a few hours and I'll have a plan."

Jay nodded and smiled, clapping her on the shoulder. "Yes, sir…well, ma'am," he corrected sheepishly as he walked away.

One of the remaining civilians walked over to take his place, a young man who looked to be in his thirties. He had been wearing a suit when the attack took place and his tie still hung loosely about his neck. "We were wondering what to do about the bodies," he addressed Faith.

"The bodies?" Faith asked.

"Yeah," he said, motioning to the dead zombies lying on the floor in the center of the Bronze and by the door. "What should we do with them?"

"Nothing," Faith replied quickly. "Don't touch them. Like I said before, we don't know how this thing spreads. I don't want anyone getting infected because they got some blood on their hands trying to clean up."

"Shouldn't we cover them?" Joyce asked, eyeing the bodies warily. Faith noted her reaction and realized that, while the bodies did not disturb her, the rest of the people were bothered by their presence.

"If you can find a sheet, a tarp, or anything else to cover them with," Faith instructed the man, "then go ahead." He nodded and began to walk away when Faith called him back. "Hey," she said. "What's your name?"

"Aidan," he replied.

"Aidan," Faith repeated. "Can you do something else for me?"

"Sure," he nodded.

"Get a list of everyone's names and what they did before the attack," Faith said.

"Why do you want that?" Willow asked.

"We might be stuck together for a while. I want to know who everyone is. Besides," Faith added, "someone here might be a doctor or something else that would be useful to us. But right now, we don't know."

"I don't know much about zombies, but what I do know might help you come up with a good plan," Giles suggested. "Would you like to consult with me?"

"Sure," Faith smiled, happy that Giles wanted to be included in her decision making process, "two heads are better than one, right?" Giles was about to respond when a gunshot rang out in the Bronze. Faith uneasily looked over at the door leading to the backroom. "I guess he turned."

"That means you're in charge," Joyce stated, looking over at the young girl.

Faith smiled apprehensively and said, "Stranger things have happened."