Chapter 14

Some Assembly Required

Rain like gunfire batters you back. Thorns tear and tangle. Everything seems to want you dead, drawing you towards fang and claw. Fall. Be devoured. Rest.

No.

You hear the iron gate slam open, spilling out it's terrors into the graveyard around you. A rise of clouds flickers with purple lightning to your left, revealing jagged shadows moving. In moments the first is upon you, leaping from a gravestone, midair- you break your bow across its hellish face. No time to stake. Run Lehane! Run!

Break right, dodging death again; down, down to the road. Ankle takes the ditch hard. Bite your lip bloody. Run! Run!

Area industrial, you cut through the burnt out warehouse backing onto The Bronze. Green neon. The elements shaking the ruined tin roof so it thunders like an arena audience. You spin to meet your first combatant. Blood sport for the powers that be. Your fists tear bone from tendon, your stake quick to follow. Another and another challenge you, and you are more alive than ever to deal second death. Knuckles split, running pink with rainwater, flecked black with ash, pounding without mercy, pounding like your heart.

Make them all scream and cry. Make them die.

Four more smashed back to hell, but you are trapped. Grotesque inhuman silhouettes surround you. The scene grows still. Green neon flickers. Your breathing sounds inhuman. Clawing out of you. You taste blood and ash.

The vampires part behind you.

And she is there. Flickering neon on oily black. Metal claws glint shivers into your spine, down your back. Trace. Trace.

"Faith." She says, her voice a static pur. "So nice of you to come to my coronation."

You see Kennedy's eyes, unblinking and empty. You want to scream at The Queen, tear her apart with obscenity, but there are no words so sharp. So vile.

"Your blood will be my celebration toast, Slayer. I will drink you like champagne. "

She enters the makeshift arena with calm, confident steps. Her body taut, wrapped in synthetic fibres. A glint of silver metal where your arrow hit her heart. Armour. Her neck too.

So that's it. Faith Lehane. Died on a rainy night in some burnt out warehouse in a nowhere town. Gang related. PCP. File closed.

With a gesture, The Queen's finger blades snap out. And you ready yourself.

Trace. Trace. Trace.

You have never felt pain like this. Never. And it comes again and again, unending, escalating. You feel your mind stretched upon it, like a wrack, turning and cracking and crunching, and you think that's it, that's the snapping point, but it turns onwards. Screams are not enough. Screams are…

The light is blinding, stabbing needles of rainbow through your optic nerves. You try to move, pull away, but you can't.

You feel a hand upon your shoulder, dull, warm, like hope. You focus on it. Anything to escape the… ohhhhh.

It feels like ice in your veins, but the pain shies away from it, like a vampire from sunflight. Oh mercy. Oh peace.

"Faith, keep still." The voice stays, so strange, so far away but you think it is Buffy talking to you. She is here in this place. "Please baby, keep still."

There are other voices too, some frantic, some calm, some in pain.

"Too much light" you try to say, although it feels like you are sending signals down a long tunnel. But maybe it is heard. Maybe you are coming through. Five by five. Maybe, because the light is fading.

Everything is fading.

And Buffy is here, in this place. Isn't she?

At a party a few years ago, you heard a girl whining about hospital food tasting like crap. You wanted to ram her silver fucking spoon down her three square meals a day throat. Hell, it would have been worth it to get three square in jail. Goddamn princess. You shovel the puree into your mouth and wash it back with orange juice.

"What is that like?" April says. She means eating.

"You can't miss what you don't know, babe."

"From the look of your face, it's like sex. I like sex." She says. Her smile vanilla sugar. You know she does. You have seen her code. Taught you a thing or two. You can't help but chuckle, which tugs at your stitches.

"Sure, guess it is." You say, and stuff a rolled up beef slice into your mouth with your one good arm. April nods satisfied, and returns to watching you quietly.

Giles appears at the door, his raincoat over one arm, a bag in the other. He smiles the way he has for the few days, bittersweet, tugging between relief and horror. They won't let you see a mirror yet, but you don't need to, your injuries are reflected in all their faces. It's bad. And you are a Slayer, so that bad is relative, right?

"I see your appetite remains unharmed." He says. "Which is good because…" he places a big bag of takeout on the folding table. The smell of the burgers is incredible. The taste? Better.

"Oh G Man, you are the best. This is amazing."

"Like sex." April nods sagely and then looks past Giles "Oh hello, Vi".

She edges into view and you feel your stomach lurch. The girl looks sheepish, short ginger hair curling up from beneath a colorful striped beanie. Gentle, uncertain eyes with delicate lashes. She is clutching a bunch of flowers for dear life. You can tell she is trying her best to not look horrified at your condition. Bless her.

Of course, you know instantly who she is. What she is. You can feel her dancing up and down your battered spine even now.

You shoot her the best smile the stitches of your shredded face can manage.

"You must be the new girl. Welcome to chosen one-ness."

You don't remember much of the fight. Fragments. Flashes. Flesh parting to metal. Fists cracking on black glass that felt harder than steel. Inhuman growls of pleasure. Mocking laughter. Bone shattering. Spinning neon green and rain in your eyes. The comfort of mother earth as she pulled you down to her embrace.

You don't remember how the hell you got out alive. None of the two months you spent in hospital. Comas are funny that way. April was at your side, reading you comics. Describing in detail each panel, the colors, the action and her thoughts on how strange she found it all. You wish you had been conscious of that. Created selfless, to serve, your upgrade gave her the ability to choose who she could be. The closest to free will you could manage. And yet, whilst you slept, she chose selflessness.

No, you don't remember Giles' car crashing into the vampires. April and this Vi girl leaping to your defense. Crosses, and crossbows and holy water. The crowd from The Bronze. The paramedics. None of it. Just the pain and the failure.

Vi looks so young. So sweet and innocent. It doesn't seem fair.

And it isn't. Is it?

You return home after another month, doctors amazed at your recovery, naturally. But the Faith Lehane that leaves Sunnydale General Hospital limps on a crutch. Arm in a cast. Graceful scars weave over your arms and legs, razor thin, precise. The Queen's caress permanently written across your left cheek, lid and lips.

A miracle, the doctors said. You don't think so.

"I want to be a Slayer." April says out of the blue. You both sit under a blanket on Giles couch watching shitty cable whilst Vi is out there, somewhere, alone against the darkness.

You don't need to look at April to tell if she is serious. She can't lie yet. Only omit.

You start to think of how to explain that she can't. Why she shouldn't. That it isn't something you can chose. But your innver voice sounds like your Father, and your Mother. Hell if you are going to let that spill out of your lips.

Funny thing is, the more you think about it, the more it makes sense. April has no fear. Super strong. Deceptively strong. Her skin able to heal fast. Bepatched up. Is selfless to a fault. She is used to being the tool of twisted men. Follows instructions blindly. The Council would love her.

Great. A sex bot is a better Slayer than you.

"Faith?"

"Why?" you say.

She tilts her head, smiles dreamily and says "I have no purpose now. But you do. You save people. you saved me." she says fondly. "What purpose could be better?"

You think of Vi out there in the darkness, alone.

"I have an idea." you say.