"Faith!" Useless as calling her name was, Angel's automatic stricken cry sliced through the air. More of the shambling horrors appeared, some converging on the brunette, who would already be turning to dust. Crumbling into broken atoms. He watched, heart sinking, for the moment ignoring the plague walkers taking interest in him.
Several seconds passed, and Faith remained intact. No - not intact - the veins around where the initial plague walker grabbed were turning black as ink. Did the progress affect Slayers differently? Faith collapsed onto her knees, yelling in pain. The discolouring travelled up her arm, faster and faster until it disappeared underneath the sleeve. A mere eye blink later it popped out of her neckline and fractured her face in spidery dark threads, spreading and staining each eyeball, her forehead…
Angel started forward, finally overcoming his dread of the walkers, not really knowing what he could do, only that he needed to do something other than stand around and gawk at his friend's impending demise. "Leave her alone!" Too little too late, but his voice jerked the curious plague walkers into a faster gait towards him, and drew the attention of all the others in the hot square, turning with fingers outstretched and limping across the cobblestones.
Faith's yelling turned into a wounded shriek, oddly distorted and inhuman. The plague walker holding her released its grip. Her body hit the ground, falling quite still.
Now Angel was in serious trouble. Reluctant to leave Faith, whatever her status, he swerved out of reach of the nearest plague walkers, darting around as he aimed for easy rooftop access. Thankfully the blasted things couldn't climb, a fact Angel fully intended exploiting. He boosted himself up a five metre wall, all the while cursing his inaction, disgusted with his inability to protect Faith. Should have done something, he thought. Should have, didn't.
Everyone else might be dead as well because he wasn't there. Wesley. That crusty Czech. Those weird assistants of his. Hell. He left Cordelia alone in L.A to die.
The Sunnydale counterparts broke the news to him some days back.
Ominous ripples persisted in the barrier expanse. Angel felt the first prickling of dangerous heat on his skin - a sign the shield grew close to total failure. Fast sinking into despair, he clambered up the next section of brick walling, making it to the roof and crouching, surveying the scene below. Spotting Faith's limp form, he curled up, not taking his gaze away. In all his years, he still didn't cope so well with loss.
One of Faith's arms twitched. Then the other. Her darkened hands flexed up, pushing her form into a kneel, like a stretching cat. Long brown hair obscured her face. Angel watched with anxious, desperate hope. Alive. She was alive. Hang on. She's alive after they touched her?
Faith's head snapped up. Black lines bulged on all visible body parts, with her eyes so dark they appeared like empty sockets. Similar to the walkers. The sight chilled Angel.
Faith, or whatever it was, let out a gurgling scream and flashed forward, running at the walkers with astonishing speed. The noise distracted them and they all turned clumsily around, only to crumble under her onslaught like torn paper in the wind. Limb after limb went flying, littering the square. One head smashed through a window. Another's leg thudded into the wall just below Angel. She made short work of her prey, dissecting with raw, savage power.
After finishing them off, she halted, breathing heavily. Her head flicked sideways, as if hearing something, far beyond Angel's range. A growl spat out of her mouth. She made as if to sprint off.
"Faith! Wait!" Unsure of what he just witnessed, but unwilling to let her escape, he jumped down, hesitantly walking up to her. She lashed her body around, adopting an aggressive posture. Angel stopped. "Faith?" Only now he noticed her crazed eyes. They weren't just shadowed - they left her face devoid of humanity. Was this actually Faith? Would she attack him? For a moment, Angel thought her capable. Twisted veins throbbed under her skin. She bared teeth. A black tongue dabbed at the top incisors. Angel took a few more steps, as if approaching a wild animal.
She flinched at the movement, before turning back around to run away. All without a word of explanation, or reassurance of her condition. Nothing to confirm her humanity. Dust kicked up in the air.
"No! Don't go!" Angel dashed after her, the sinking feeling back in force. Whether the person he followed was Faith or not, the last thing he wanted was to stay in Prague alone.
California, America
Meanwhile, somewhere in the sewers of Weytown, Buffy wasn't having much fun.
"You alright?" Faith whispered. Hot air trailed from her mouth. Buffy shivered in response.
"Y-y-y-yeah. C-c-old t-though." She clung tighter to Faith, in a vain attempt to leech more warmth.
"Really cold," Faith agreed. "Also, getting crushed here."
"S-s-sorry."
The warmth trapped between them was barely enough to endure the icy cold of the cell. Faith knew Buffy suffered it worse, however.
"How you holding, B? 'Part from the cold."
"F-freaking, mostly. And f-f-reezing."
"Freaking?"
"W-w-wondering how w-we'll get o-out of this."
"We will." Faith looped her arms around Buffy's waist. Caught by an idea, she pressed her mouth against Buffy's neck, focusing on exhaling hot air. In the darkness, every other sense powered up to compensate. Buffy's smell, shape, breath - everything about the elder Slayer became a source of interest.
"W-w-what?" Buffy's immediate reaction was to bolt, but Faith restrained her with a light touch.
"Relax. Ain't got much heat here, but this might help a little." She blew more warmth into the blonde's skin.
"O-o-oh ..." Buffy sighed. "Ahhh ..."
The sounds stirred arousal in Faith. She suppressed it to feign concern at the blonde's reaction. "Sure you're ok? Sounding a little strange."
"J-just taken by surprise," Buffy admitted, breath more than a little shaky. How much from the cold, and how much from something else, Faith could only guess. "T-this is nice. W-warm nice. Warm is nice."
"Uhuh." Faith smirked to herself. Had the situation been different, Faith felt pretty sure she'd be trying to jump the blonde's bones around now. Instead, both of them lay in a dank dungeon, freezing to death. That kind of thinking needed to go on the back burner.
"You know. I-I never could have imagined this," Buffy whispered.
Faith paused her actions. "What? End of the world? Being stuck here? Me breathing on your neck?"
"All of the above."
"Guess that's fair."
Buffy flinched from another exhalation of air. "Whew! Anyway, thing is, I think I was actually getting used to this world. Minus the whole Slayer voice and our not so great start and that Voirrey woman and the weird minotaur and the habit of going Slayer crazy. Then, boom! Apocalypse."
"Life's funny like that."
"I'm not laughing. I'm ... scared we're going to die. And how people will cope if we do."
"You won't die. Will make sure of it." The decision came to Faith in the blink of an eye. Deep in her bones, she knew it to be the right one.
It didn't take long for Buffy to process Faith's statement. "Don't you mean both of us won't die if you're going for the pep talk?"
Faith chuckled. " both know this sitch ain't so hot. If there's a good chance we're gonna be killed…" Faith paused, waiting for an interruption. When she got none, she continued; "If one of us can create some kinda diversion, you've gotta be the one to get out."
"What do you mean?" Buffy said, alarm evident in her tone.
"Remember the Prophecy? Two of me, one of you. I'm expendable. You're not."
Buffy inhaled sharply. "No, no, no, no, just no! No selfless dying. No noble sacrifice. Did I mention the no part already? Pretty sure I did. And no. You're coming back because people will be angry if you die. Screw it. We're getting out and going home. Ignore my whine from earlier."
"Can't. It's like this buzzing sound by my ear ..."
"Your poor attempt at humour makes me no less concerned."
"I know. Just saying, sitch looks pretty bad. Gotta be prepared for the worst. It's what Slayers do. I'll go down swingin' if need be -"
"- But I'm not prepared to lose you!" The words tumbled out before Buffy could stop them. Faith's jaw hung open. Clearly horrified at how it could be interpreted, the blonde then blurted; "I don't want to lose anybody."
Faith took a long time to answer. "That so?" She found Buffy's cheek, stroking it with her left thumb.
When Buffy felt Faith's hand flutter on her cheek - the gesture came so unexpectedly tender that Buffy struggled not to cry, or push the brunette away.
"Faith?"
Amusement took over Faith's voice. "Guess it's a safe bet to say you don't hate my guts anymore."
Buffy adjusted position. "Nice bet. Although I think you have it wrong. I never did hate you. Not really. Just kinda realising now."
"Aight. Good."
Good. Buffy smiled to herself. "That's the thing. Hanging around you is nice. I like it. I didn't even think I would. And ..."
"And ... ?"
"I never thought I'd like it. Like you. Have you as a friend." Buffy sighed. "Sometimes I wonder what will happen if I never got to return home. Or if I did." Buffy fought for the words to come out, wondering how the brunette would intepret them.
"Not the only one to do that, B." Faith's hand slid down to her elbow.
Something jumped in Buffy's stomach. "Yeah?"
The brunette scuffed her feet, uncomfortable with the admission. "Course. Kinda gotten used to having you around."
"Same. I think I'll miss this. Being with another Slayer." Having said her piece, Buffy exclaimed relief. "Wow. That was harder to say than I thought."
"Well, last time I checked, two Slayers in your place, only one here. It'd suck if you went. Be no one left to compete with."
Buffy noted the if, rather than when, and a lace of underlying bitterness. Does she actually like me enough to care if I leave?
"Sure, there's two Slayers, but she's not you." Buffy paused, before amending her statement; "Well, she is, but she isn't. Whatever. I know what I mean."
Faith by now had crept her fingers close to Buffy's wrist, perhaps edging for the hand. Buffy wondered how she would react if Faith tried to hold hands. Probably exactly like with the neck warming. Buffy suspected if she gave the brunette an invitation, it'd be taken up. Gleefully. Faith was scary and seductive like that. Realising she now seriously contemplated doing this, she tried to throw away the sudden brain explosion of Faith-related fantasies by remembering her boyfriend. He was so far away, though, body and mind. It would be so easy to give in, shrouded by their prison. Their incredibly cold prison. Their incredibly icy and freezing prison of not warmness.
On second thought, perhaps not.
Footsteps tapped in the darkness. Swelling in sound as they neared, the Slayers stopped all conversation and held their breaths, sensing the tell-tale sign of a vampire and a demon.
This was it, then. Fight, flight, or die. Neither intended much on dying. Of course, the situation didn't look good, either way. Surrounded by trouble on all sides, locked in an underground dungeon where not even the tiniest sliver of light passed through, without a means of escape or knowing where they were - the odds stacked up against them.
At least we have each other, Buffy thought.
Me or her? The Inner Slayer spoke from the shadows.
Strangely enough, both.
The footsteps halted. Then, a knock.
"Psst. Lassies? Ye in there?"
"Holy fucking shit." Faith clamped a hand tight onto Buffy's. "Margo."
"Aye! That's me."
"And me," Darius added, voice tense with anxiety. "So, now the emotional reunion's over, let's get out. We don't have long."
Buffy laughed, somewhat hysterical, mostly disbelieving. "Please tell me this isn't some horrid dream where I wake up after and the hope I've built up gets crushed into nothingness."
A pause. "B, that was almost poetic."
"I have my moments. So, tell me?"
"Can do better than that."
"Ow!" Buffy flinched back from Faith's pinch. "Not cool."
"Margo, get them out before they kill each other?"
"Aye." Scratching filled the chasm between conversation. Then, a click of tumblers. One minute later, their door cracked open, revealing a glare of flashlight which lanced Buffy's eyes with pain.
"Ow," she repeated, shielding her face.
"Weel, don't just stand there, ye idiots. Get moving." Margo waved the ingredients satchel, which they had thought lost.
Faith went first, eyelids fluttering as she adjusted to the welcome intrusion into their darkness. Caution showed on every thread of muscle in her being.
"Why's it so quiet? Where's the guards?" Buffy inquired. Faith accepted the bag of ingredients from Margo.
"We've been watching their patrols for the past few hours. Your corner guards went off to investigate a, uh, disturbance by yours truly."
"Why come back for us?" Faith. At this, Darius shuffled, uncomfortable.
"Didn't seem right, leaving you."
"I told him to," Margo said. At this announcement, both Slayers gaped at the elderly vampire. Margo curled her lips into a malicious sneer. "Couldn't care less about ye two. But if you don't go and go what you Slayers do in the world saving stuff, there won't be much left to eat."
Now Buffy clocked it. "Makes sense. And to think evil could never be on our side."
"When it suits our purposes." Margo gave an exaggerated bow and accompanied Darius in shifting a loose section of wall. It didn't take long, and they squeezed through the narrow opening one by one, entering what appeared more as a cave tunnel rather than the rigid architecture of the sewers. They travelled for some time in silence, flashlights scraping the claustrophobic walls. Drips echoed in the distance. The gnawing fear inside the Slayers rooting from the chance of discovery lessened. Margo and Darius' obvious knowledge of the secret ways led them on, away from the pitch blackness to a place of light.
They halted next to a dingy steel ladder, cutting upwards to a manhole cover. Darius flicked his light between them.
"That's the way out."
"And our stop," Margo added, shining the flashlight on herself for dramatic effect. Wrinkles on her deep lined face fell into twisted shadows. "This skin doesn't tan very well."
"I still think if you tried putting on Sun Factor 50 and covered up, you'd be good to go in daytime."
"What on earth would I wear? A burka?"
"Okay, moving on." Buffy started climbing, cold hands gripping onto colder metal. At the top she gave the cover some good hard shoves before it popped aside, filtering in daylight. Buffy squinted, peering down to see Faith clambering up. Margo and Darius lurked just out of reach of the rays. Buffy felt the urge to say something.
"Thanks for your help, both of you. Whatever your reasons, I'm really g -"
" - Just bugger off already!" Margo's disgruntled tone hit back, "Before you get killed."
"Right, right." Buffy hefted Faith out of the manhole. They stared at each other. Both girls looked a mess. Dirt caked Faith's skin and hair, and tainted her clothes. Buffy wasn't much better off.
"You stink," Buffy said.
"You ain't exactly roses either."
Synchronised smiles leapt across their lips.
"Got a long walk back." Buffy glanced around, doubtful, tired. "And I'm not entirely sure where we are."
Faith grasped her by the hand, giving a squeeze, which Buffy returned after slight hesitation. "We'll get back, B. Whatever it takes." The utter certaincy in her tone put Buffy at ease. "Pretty glad I didn't have to do any heroic sacrifice."
"Har, har."
"But we got stuff to talk about."
Buffy swallowed, nervous. "We do." Namely, the sheer amount of effort it took for Buffy to keep a lid on her libido. She hadn't realised just how much she missed it until being slammed in close proximity with Faith, who was more or less very open in her sexuality.
When they checked down the manhole, Darius and Margo had long since departed. Covering up the entrance, they picked a direction loosely judged as south west and tried it, sticking to the sides of the road, their conversation quiet; their hope renewed.
Willow entered the campsite, her arms strung with bags, and extra packets of chips scrunched against her body. Voirrey and Xander got up to help, peeling the supplies off and adding it to their diminished stockpile. Anya was slumped against a sycamore, eyes closed, but brow furrowed in irritation from her obviously disturbed sleep. Giles emerged from a pile of blankets, his glasses askew, yawning. Tara ignored them, focused on a mirror, her free hand tracing over the knitted scarring. Gentle blue light pulsed from her fingertips as she chanted to encourage the healing progress, now the pain had dulled enough to personally cast spells.
Willow had provided a little of her strength as anchor in several sessions, but her main job remained on making sure they were undetected.
"Mmm. Crispy crunchs and sugery puffy goodness. You sure know the way to a man's heart." Xander tore open a packet of crispy crunch, pleased at the efforts of his best friend.
"I try." Willow selected a juice carton, pulling out the straw and inserting to drink. "Anything for you."
Voirrey grabbed two sandwiches, flashing a tight smile. "Thanks, dear." The Watcher appeared tense. She brushed aside the growing fringe of her short-cropped hair. "My phone still isn't able to connect with Faith's. It appears to now be out of order.
"Broken," Willow translated. "They never last long with the Slayer-y types."
"Indeed, that's very true." Giles nodded, gratefully retrieving a sandwich from Voirrey. He bit into it after prising the contents out of the enveloping plastic, wiping crumbs from his mouth.
"It's been nearly two days for a six hour trip. The chances they have run into trouble is high." Voirrey crumpled up her empty wrapper.
"It's Buffy and Faith. They're two remarkably strong women. Together, they're fine, I'm sure." Although Giles attempted to inject as much positively into his voice as possible, Willow caught the concern, the underlying fear. She couldn't blame either of the Watchers. Everyone was kind of hinging on the fact that their Slayers, defenders of all that was good, would return. Preferably unscathed. As usual, Willow sent a prayer to the Goddess, willing for their safety, and joined Tara, giving her girlfriend a brief greeting hug.
Tara put down the mirror, tracing her own jawline. "It's working. I've restored some muscle function and replaced some of the nerves and blood vessels." She frowned a little, before flushing. "It'll be a while before I can look anything like my former self. But there w-will still be scarring."
Willow placed her hands over Tara's network of scars and raw flesh, movements gentle like a butterfly. Checking for permission and getting it, she leaned forwards for a lingering kiss, wiping away the frown. "Tare, baby, you know how I feel about you, whatever happens."
Tara reddened more, but not from embarrassment. "I-I know, I'm just still ... not used to it."
"To love?" Willow kissed her again.
"Yeah." They rested foreheads against each other.
"That is so sickenly cute. Giles, we need to stop the cuteness." Xander mock-shuddered when both girls ignored him to continue cuddling.
"I want hugs too." Now Anya piped in, giving Xander a wide-eyed stare until he relented.
Willow glanced around the dishevelled camp that was their temporary home, wishing they could return back to their old lives. Not that life had ever been normal since being dragged into the realm of the Slayer, but at least it didn't involve the actual end of the world. They needed to act, and soon. Before it became too late.
"How's Angel's end?" Willow asked. Giles gave a doubtful shrug.
"No word, and no contacting them, either. Needless to say, although we lack news, no news is better than bad news."
Willow nodded, then examined her herb pouch. The pitiful amount it offered couldn't fuel much magic. Certainly no sun bombs, locator spells or anything, but enough to assist Tara on her healing.
Tara rested against her girlfriend, exhausted from the magic. Willow brushed away a straggle of blonde hair, revealing the wounds around Tara's ear for a brief moment. Tears welled in Willow's eyes, threatening to break free. For one horrific second, when Tara had been mauled, Willow thought her girlfriend was dead. That memory made it hard to breathe. A sliver of the horror crept inside.
Losing Buffy and meeting an alternate version almost three years later tinged her former grief from losing her best friend with bittersweet happiness. Comfort, Willow supposed, in that other versions existed out there. Other Buffys. Other Taras. But she knew one thing. She didn't want anyone else to die. It hurt too much.
Tara lightly massaged Willow's knee, catching her girlfriend's mood. "Don't be sad. It makes me sad, too."
Well, what could Willow say to that? Sometimes her girlfriend was too adorable.
Calm descended. For the millioneth time, Willow sent another prayer to the Goddess, hating their current helplessness.
Oh Goddess, please help us ...
Something triggered off Willow's senses. A boundary break on her sensory web. Bolting upright, hit by a quick dash of adrenaline, she concentrated. Voirrey noticed her demeanour. So did Tara, given that she was dislodged from her former position of comfort.
"What's the matter, Willow dear?"
Willow shook her head at Voirrey, shushed any further comments from anyone else with a flick of hands, still focused. "I sense ... two living auras. They've passed through the web."
Could it be ...? Everyone else seemed to think the same.
"Is it Buffy and Faith? Is it? It better be," Anya said, neatening her hair. Xander started scooping up empty chip packets.
"Oh, now you tidy." Voirrey glared at Xander.
The invasive auras strengthened as they neared. Leaves crackled. All faces turned to Buffy and Faith as they stumbled together into the clearing, grimy, sweat-stained, but otherwise alive and relatively unharmed. A bagpack was slung over Faith's shoulder. Both Slayers supported each other, looking ready to drop.
"Miss us?" Faith rasped.
Willow beamed delight. "So very much!"
Cheers erupted from Xander and Anya, accompanied by their clapping.
"Thank you, thank you." Buffy bowed, unhooking herself from Faith. "I'll be taking autographs later." Without Faith holding her up, Buffy lost the energy to remain standing. She wobbled to the ground.
Willow sent thanks up high, before joining the others in assisting the Slayers to settle.