Secrets
Each brother coped with their father's loss in their own way.
Back at Bobby's, once John's body was burned away to ash, Sam cried, and talked, and reminisced. He chose to remember the best of his dad and allowed himself space to grieve in a sincere, healthy way.
Dean…was pretty much the opposite. He did nothing but sleep and work on the Impala. Only a few days passed before he had the body of his beloved car all but finished, getting to work then on the intricacies of the engine.
Faith and Toby had hung around for three days by that point – three days of Sam's quiet grief and Dean's bottled, frosty silence. Faith spent most of her time with Sam, letting him talk and process in his own way. They drank a lot of beer; ate a lot of pizza. Dean would barely even look at her, let alone sit down for a meal.
He ignored all of them, toiling away on the Impala like it was all he had in this world. He was even ignoring Sam, and she knew it was hitting the younger brother hard, how poorly Dean was dealing with his loss.
On the third day of silence and summer heat, Sam found Faith in Bobby's basement, kicking the crap out of the punching bag Bobby had strung up. She heard his feet on the stairs, then felt the weight of his eyes as he watched her run through the drills Toby had given her to practice.
"What?" she asked, looking over her bare, sweaty shoulder, an eyebrow raised.
Sam's hands were shoved deep in his pockets. "You've just come a long way from that girl we met breaking into an apartment in Baltimore," he said with a half shrug.
She shook her head. "I think I was always this. It was just hidden beneath the surface."
Sam smiled and looked around the basement. "Tobias is big on the physical aspects of hunting, is he?"
"At first it was just to make sure I had the stamina to run for my life," she admitted, tapping her taped knuckles against the hard surface of the bag. "But after a while, it became more than that. Now… I dunno. It helps."
"Helps with what?"
She looked down at her feet. "Dunno. The big, gaping hole in my life where Nate used to be?"
Sam nodded understandingly. "Endorphins are known to help with depression."
Faith shot around to glare at him so quickly that she nearly slipped on the mat beneath her feet. "I'm not depressed," she snapped.
Sam held his hands up in quick surrender. "Well, you have me convinced."
"Shut up," Faith rolled her eyes. "Was there a reason you came down here or was it just to enjoy the view?" she asked, referring to her outfit – little more than leggings and a sports bra – and her skin, pink and sweaty. Sam gave an uncomfortable face that made her snort.
"I wanted to ask a favour, actually," he said. Sensing she was done for the day, Faith stepped away from the punching bag and began to peel the tape from her hands. She nodded for him to go on. "I've been trying to get through to Dean for days, but he'll barely say two words-"
"You're not asking me to talk to him?" she spluttered, whirling back around on Sam incredulously. "Sam, I'm more likely to start a fight with him than work out his trauma – whether I mean to or not. S'just how it is. I'm not sure me talking to him is what he needs right now."
"I disagree," argued Sam. "I think you're exactly what he needs right now."
"Oh yeah?" she asked, getting to work on her left hand. "How's that?"
"You always tell it like it is."
"Don't you?"
"I'm his brother. It comes across differently."
Faith threw her used wrappings in the trash can in the corner and turned to stare at him plainly. "What am I meant to say, Sam? There aren't any magic words that can make this any better for him."
"I'm not asking you to make it better," Sam beseeched. "I'm just asking you to make him say something. To break through this wall that he's put up."
"Walls aren't always a bad thing, Sam," she replied. "Sometimes they keep us safe."
"This one isn't," he said flatly. "It's choking him. Please, Faith. Just go and talk to him. Get a reaction out of him – any at all. Anything's better than this silence."
Sam pleaded with her, eye begging, and Faith decided she really needed to grow more of a spine as she muttered, "Fine," and stepped around him to make for the stairs. "You owe me one, Sam."
Sam didn't reply, but that was for the best. Faith used the bathroom, splashing water on her face and pulling her dark hair out of its knot, letting it fall around her shoulders in its natural halo of curls. She stopped by the kitchen, fishing two beers from the back of the fridge before reluctantly making her way out into the stifling summer heat.
Dean was exactly where he'd been every hour of every day since they'd arrived at Bobby's – underneath the Impala, working tirelessly to bring it back to life. All Faith could see was his waist to his feet, the rest of him hidden by the bulk of the rusted car. The sound of metal hitting metal rang throughout the salvage yard as he tightened some bolt, or whatever it was he was doing to get the old girl up and running again.
"What do you want, Princess?" Dean asked, voice even more gravelly than usual. She hadn't realised he'd known she was there, and hoped he didn't notice the way she jumped at the sound of his voice.
"I come bearing gifts," she said. A beat, then Dean slid out from underneath his car, squinting up at her against the shine of the summer sun. His flickered briefly down her body, taking in her sports bra, leggings, and all the bare flesh they revealed. No expression crossed his face, and as if he hadn't just been peering her curves, he calmly held out his hand for the beer.
She said nothing as she handed him the bottle, and he used the edge of the Impala's shell to crack it open. The lid flew off into the salvage yard, where she imagined it would be lost to time.
Faith used the edge of a nearby car to open hers, her own lid joining Dean's in the depths of the salvage yard. They sipped their beers in silence for about a minute, before Dean put his aside and said in a tone of clear dismissal, "Well, thanks for the beer."
Without another word, he slipped back beneath his car, primed to go back to ignoring everyone completely. Faith sighed, already exhausted. "Dean…"
He slid back out on the wheels of his dirty mechanic's creeper, sitting up and pinning her with a scathing stare. "Sammy send you to come talk to me?" he demanded. She opened her mouth to answer, but he didn't give her the chance. "He thinks I'm going off the deep end? Well, you tell him I'm just fine. I don't want to talk. I just want to fix my damn car in peace."
Faith sighed again, pressing the cold glass of her beer bottle against her neck. "Dean, he's just worried. We all are."
"You ain't got no right to be worried," he snapped. "We barely know you." The words were true, but somehow, they still stung. "Why were you even at the hospital in the first place?"
After everything with John, and Dean's silence, they hadn't exactly had a chance to catch each other up on their time apart. "Sam called me. He felt scared. He didn't know what to do. He thought you were going to die."
"So, what, you caught the first bus and came running just for little old me?"
"Jacked a car, actually, but yeah, that about covers it," she snapped back, his attitude grating on her nerves. She knew he was grieving; knew he was just coping with his loss in the only way he knew how – but there was also a certain point where even 'just coping' became 'just being a dick'. She wasn't about to let him treat her like trash just because he was hurting. She didn't deserve that.
However, instead of snapping back at her like she'd expected, Dean surprised her by looking away, focusing on scrubbing the grease off his hands with a towel. "Thanks for being there for him," he muttered the words through gritted teeth, like he begrudged having to say them at all.
"He'd do the same for me," she replied, knowing it was true. Maybe she and Dean weren't friends, but after everything she and Sam had been through together – especially these last few days – she could say with confidence that they were.
"Well, isn't that nice?" Dean sneered, cracking open the hood of the Impala and ducking his face inside. "The two of you gonna end up a nuclear family? 2.5 kids? White picket fence? That's great."
Faith had no idea where any of this was coming from, but she wasn't about to put up with it. Taking two large steps forwards, she leant into the engine next to him and slapped him upside the head – hard.
With a curse he flung backwards, only to hit his head on the hot metal hood, bruising himself further. "What the fuck?" he demanded, stumbling backwards with a hand pressed to the back of his skull.
"You're an ass," she told him point-blank. "All any of us want is to help you. Stop making it so goddamn difficult."
Still rubbing his sore head, Dean glared at her. He stubbornly said nothing, ducking back into the empty engine compartment to tinker some more.
Faith sighed and tried again. "I know what it's like to lose the person who matters most to you, Dean-"
He shot out of the engine so fast he nearly hit his head again. "Don't you dare compare this to you losing your boyfriend," he snarled the word like it were derogatory. "It's not the same. Not even close."
Faith bit back a scathing retort, forcing herself to stay calm. "I didn't just mean Nate-"
"Who else, Bueller? You don't have any family! You've never even had parents to lose. So no, you don't know what it's like – don't you dare sit there and pretend you do!" The words burst out of him like an explosion.
He didn't seem to regret his words, not even slightly. He stomped away, picking up a wrench with an unnecessary clang and beginning to work on the other end of his car.
Faith stared, every pulse of her heart thumping painfully against her sternum. She felt her own anger bubbling up in her chest, threatening to spill out and destroy everything in its path. But the knowledge that that was exactly what Dean wanted kept her from letting go. She tightened the leash on her own fury, settling for glaring at Dean, who glared down at his car.
"There's a case," she found herself saying, fuelled by her own anger. "A string of mysterious deaths over in Tennessee. I'm leaving today."
She'd made no such plans, but she'd caught sight of the case in the paper over breakfast and considered asking Toby if they could check it out. She hadn't said anything to Toby yet because she wasn't sure she should leave Sam and Dean. She'd been under the misguided assumption that her presence was helping; clearly, she'd been wrong.
She'd go bring the case straight to Toby. She could tell he was getting antsy, wanting to be get back on the road. Hunters never liked to stay in one place for too long; permanent residences like Bobby's were the exception, not the rule. Toby would agree to get out of dodge, if not for the case, then at least because he understood the sometimes-undeniable urge to run.
"Good," said Dean, and that was all. He didn't say another word, pretending to be focused on the Impala. Faith's flesh felt hot on her bones, nerves prickling with fury. She stared at him, barely able to believe what a jerk he was being. But if he wanted it to be this way – then fine, it would be this way.
"Fine," she snapped, stomping back towards Bobby's house.
Dean didn't call after her, and she didn't look back at him.
As she'd assumed, Toby was more than happy to go check out the deaths in Tennessee. She packed her bag swiftly, saying a mournful farewell to her bed, knowing she'd likely have to sleep in the car on the way down south, and then stomped down the stairs, unable to help her cranky mood.
Sam was waiting at the door. "Faith, wait," he said, puppy eyes shining with regret. "What happened? You have a five-minute conversation with Dean, and now you're bailing?"
"Caught a case in Tennessee. Dean's an asshole, but he can't drive me across the country with just a few harsh words, Sam. I'm stronger than that," she added, not sure whether it was true or not. "It's just time Toby and I got going. There's work to do."
She could tell Sam didn't believe her, but that didn't bother her. He could think what he liked. She'd wasted enough of her time on Dean Winchester.
"Look," Sam said. "I really am sorry for whatever he said-"
"You don't need to apologise for him, Sam," Faith said, holding up a hand to stop the apology before he could finish it. "And I don't want you to."
Sam looked pained, and she felt a swoop of guilt for running. But that was what she did now, wasn't it? A life on the road? If she couldn't run from her problems, then what was the point?
"I'm sorry to leave you, Sam," she said honestly. "I really do just have to go. Are you gonna be okay?"
Sam's eyes looked a little glassy as he tucked his hands into his pockets and nodded. "Yeah," he rasped. She didn't believe it for a moment. "I'll be fine," he tried again, reading her scepticism. "Keep in contact, yeah?"
Faith had to push up onto her toes to wrap her arms around his hulking form. She hugged him tight, trying to assure him he wasn't alone. "Call me if you need anything," she ordered him, pulling back and smiling dryly. "I mean it, Sam. Information, backup, or even just to talk. Call me."
"I will," he nodded. "Thanks."
She'd already said her goodbyes to Bobby, so Faith trudged out the front door. Toby was leant against the driver's side door of his car, staring down at his phone. Considering how few people he actually knew, she guessed he was probably playing one of those Bejewelled games he pretended he wasn't addicted to. Still, he looked up when she reached him, shoving his phone into his pocket.
"Ready to go?" he asked. Faith nodded once, tossing her duffel bag into the back before sliding into the passenger seat and pulling out her MP3 player, unwinding the earphones from around its body. "You sure about this, Faith?" Toby pressed as he put the car into drive.
"Absolutely," she said, sticking in one of her earbuds and turning the volume up high.
As Toby made a three-point turn to get out of Bobby's yard, Faith caught sight of a form leaning against the far side of Bobby's house. She narrowed her eyes at Dean, leant lazily in the shade, green eyes focused solely on her. There was no apology in that gaze, no guilt. Just a hard, bitter stare that Faith met unflinchingly.
"Wanna stop at the Roadhouse on the way to Tennessee?" Toby asked, not seeming to notice her locked stare with the eldest Winchester.
"No," said Faith, the first to turn away from Dean's angry stare, facing the road before shutting her eyes and stuffing the other ear bud into place. "Let's just go straight there. I think I need to kill something."
It only took two days to put down the thing killing people in Tennessee. Toby called it a Woman in White, and it was surprisingly easy to end it – just a simply salt-and-burn at the end of the day, so most of Faith's frustrations ended up being taken out by means of a shovel and six feet of graveyard dirt.
She didn't hear anything from Sam and Dean the whole hunt; she told herself that was fine.
Coming back to the motel, covered in dirt and soot, Toby suggested they take a trip to upstate New York. Faith leaned backwards out of the bathroom door, where she was rinsing off the blisters that the digging had created on her hands.
"Upstate New York?" she asked. "There's a job there?"
Toby seemed exasperated. "Not everything is about the job, Faith."
She narrowed her eyes. "But this one is, isn't it?" she asked, because she already knew. By now she could read Toby's moods like the changing of the tide.
"A bit of both," he sighed. "I've got a friend up that way; a solo hunter, having a bit of trouble with a case. I thought it might be good to introduce you, plus we can give him a hand while we're there."
"You have a friend?" she asked sceptically. Toby threw the wadded-up socks he'd just peeled off at her face; she dodged them smoothly. "What's his name?"
"Garth. Great guy. Bit of a dunce, but in a good way."
"Okay," she agreed. "We'll head there next."
She shut the door and got in the shower, washing off the grime of the night just as the sun began to peek up over the horizon. They'd sleep till noon then get driving; that was their usual routine after a salt-and-burn.
A question occurred to Faith as she used the motel's complimentary shampoo to scrub the dirt from her dirt from her hair, and it stuck with her long after she was dried, dressed in sweats and laid on a too-firm motel mattress.
"Hey, Toby?" she asked into the darkness. The lights were off, and the curtains drawn shut, keeping out the light of the growing dawn.
"Hm?" he hummed sleepily from the bed across the room.
"When we started this whole thing… Well, it was always going to be temporary," she said, tugging at a loose thread in her sheets. "I was just wondering if there's…still an expiration date on our partnership. If you're counting down the days until you're rid of me."
Toby was silent for so long she thought he'd either fallen asleep or elected not to answer her question at all, but then he spoke, voice so soft she had to strain her ears to hear it.
"We work well together," he admitted. "It might not be such a terrible idea to…to make this more permanent." Faith smiled into the dark. "Besides," he continued in a harder voice, "we still don't know the whole picture when it comes to the Cult and their plans for you. I'm not going to leave you to face that on your own."
It was a small moment, without much ceremony. But that was how things worked for them; casual confirmation that they cared, then a healthy dose of teasing for good measure. Faith wouldn't have had their decision to hunt together permanently go any other way.
She snuggled deeper into her small mound of starchy pillows. "Thanks, Toby."
Faith went to sleep feeling like half a weight had been lifted from her shoulders, but despite that feeling of freedom, she still woke an hour before her phone's alarm, covered in sweat from a nightmare she couldn't remember.
They made their way slowly up north, and they were just passing through West Virginia, stopped for gas, when she got a call from an unexpected number.
"Jo," she greeted the younger girl, leaning against the side of the car while Toby was paying for their gas. "What's going on? It's good to hear from you."
They'd exchanged numbers when they'd met earlier in the month but had yet to use them. Faith guessed Jo wasn't the type to text for fun, and really, they hadn't anything to say.
"I just met some friends of yours," Jo said in a voice of dry amusement.
"That so?"
"Dean and Sam Winchester?"
Faith blinked. "What, you didn't know 'em before?"
"My mom knew their daddy," Jo explained. "But we'd never met the boys."
"Tell me they were perfect gentlemen," Faith groaned. Through the window into the gas station, she watched Toby hold up to packs of different flavoured jerky, looking at her for input. She pointed to the one on the right and he nodded, tossing the other back on the rack.
"Surprisingly, yes," said Jo.
"Really?" Faith was understandably sceptical. Sam, she could believe, but Dean… "You're telling me Dean didn't even hit on you once?"
"Well, there were a few attempts but…his heart wasn't in it. And he was man enough to admit it, too," Jo confessed. Faith frowned at that, but Jo continued. "They were surprised we knew you, actually. Dean said something about you making fast friends. Seemed a little bitter about it. Something going on there?"
Faith scowled down at the dirt beneath her boots. "Jo, if this is you feeling out the territory, you're damn well welcome to Dean fuckin' Winchester."
A beat. "Really now?"
"Be my guest."
"Huh," hummed Jo. "Gotta say, judging by what Dean said, I wasn't expecting that answer."
Faith's frown deepened to the point of pain. "This is coming awfully close to gossip territory, Jo. I didn't think you were the type."
"So, you don't wanna know?"
Faith ground her teeth to nubs, glaring up at the sky. "…I didn't say that."
Jo laughed. "Not much to tell. When he found out I knew you, he asked if we'd spoken recently. I told him not in a few weeks and asked why."
"And he said…?"
"Nothing; changed the subject," she felt Jo shrug down the line. "But in my experience, a guy like Dean Winchester takes the time to ask after you, well – you've made an impression."
Faith's laugh was tinged with bitterness. "Yeah, I think I definitely made an impression."
"Do tell."
Toby was heading out of the gas station, arms full of food. "I've gotta go, Toby and I are on our way to New York to meet some guy called Garth."
Jo laughed. "Garth, huh? Oh boy. Have fun with that one."
Faith wasn't sure what that meant, but there wasn't time to ask. "We'll stop in at the Roadhouse next time we're over that way. You and I can do a few shots and bitch some more about Dean Winchester."
"This was hardly bitching."
Faith scoffed. "You've met the guy. Just give it time."
They hung up with promises to hang out soon, and Faith took the packets of jerky from Toby. "This was the last of our funds," he said with a scowl. "Would it kill you to shoplift a little more often?"
"Next time we stop, I'll rob them blind," she promised. "But beyond that, know any bars in upstate New York where you can hustle pool and I can play a game of lucky dip?" she asked, wriggling her fingers playfully.
"Know of a few," he nodded. "Garth hangs out up that way more often, though. He'll have a few suggestions. But don't tell him you're a pickpocket. The guy might be a hunter, but he's one of those rare few who grew up with a moral compass still intact."
"What, murder's okay but he draws the line at petty theft?"
Toby smirked and shook his head. "Something like that."
Her conversation with Jo playing heavily on her mind, they were about an hour out of New York when Faith turned to Toby and told him, "Y'know, I can get lost for a night if you wanna have some – y'know – personal time."
Toby looked away from the road long enough to frown at her. She innocently held up her hands.
"I'm just saying, I've been with you nearly non-stop since we met, and not once have I seen you let loose."
"Now, by 'let loose', do you mean 'have casual sex'?"
"Ugh, you're such an old fuddy-duddy," she groaned even though he was less than a decade older than her. "Forget I said anything, you probably couldn't get laid even if you wanted to."
Toby opened his mouth to argue the point, then seemed to think better and shook his head in exasperation. "I'm not the kind of person who enjoys…hook-ups," he said stiltedly. Faith accepted that with a nod, hearing an edge of something in his voice that told her not to press the matter. "Are you?" he asked suddenly, looking supremely awkward to be asking at all.
And it was a little weird, like an older brother asking his sister about her sex life. But she'd never been easily embarrassed. "I was, before Nate," she admitted, peering out the window.
At some point it had started to pour, the rain coming down in sheets. The sound of it hitting the roof of Toby's car was like a never-ending drum solo with no discernible rhythm.
"But since he died…I dunno…" she shifted uncomfortably, regretting bringing it up at all. "I guess it feels…unfaithful."
Toby said nothing for a minute, letting the silence stretch. "It isn't unfaithful of you, Faith," he finally said, voice gentle, which for him was a rarity. "Nate's gone, and I might not have known him, but I'm sure he'd want you to be happy. And…if having casual sex makes you happy…well, far be it from me to stop you."
This time it was her who let the silence stretch. The beating of the rain against the roof began to ease, until it was more soothing than an assault to the ears.
"We should have a codeword," she eventually decided.
He hesitated. "A codeword?"
"Yeah, for if one of us wants to get laid and needs the other one to lay low for the night," she grinned. "Any suggestions?"
"Faith, when is that ever going to be necessary?" He sounded so tired with her antics that her smile widened.
"Would just indulge me? I'm thinking some sort of fruit… Pineapple?"
"Pineapple?"
"Yeah," she reached out to punch him playfully on the shoulder. "One of us says pineapple, the other lays low so they can get some action."
"You're ridiculous."
"I'm clever," she insisted, mostly just because ruffling his feathers was fun. Another thought came to mind, but she hesitated over the words. It had been so long since it had mattered…but the need to speak it aloud was suddenly stifling. "There's…something else I wanted you to know."
Toby's only reply was a glance and a raised brow.
"Just…don't freak out, okay?"
"Faith," he sounded exasperated.
"Just, if I'm going to start…seeing people…then I think you should know now that I'm…um," she stumbled a little over it. Toby cast her another inscrutable look and she steeled herself, spine straightening and her jaw going tight. "I'm bisexual."
Toby's only reaction was a minute tightening of his hands around the steering wheel, and her pulse was deafeningly loud in her ears. Spooked by his silence, she began to ramble.
"I dunno how accepting the hunting community is with this sort of thing, but because I've still been getting over Nate, I haven't felt the need to bring it up. Now that I do, I just…I thought you should know." Still no reaction. "Please don't freak out," she begged him, regretting opening her mouth at all. "If it grosses you out or something, I could…I dunno, not go after women…"
"No," said Toby with such force that she immediately shut her mouth, teeth clacking together in surprise. She stared at him across the cab of his car, heat blasting from the vents, combating the chill from the storm. "You don't have to – you never have to hide that part of yourself, Faith," he continued after a deep, steadying breath. "Not from me."
She heard what went unsaid. "But the rest of the hunting community…"
"There are some who won't give a damn," he began steadily. "And there are others who will find it…offensive. While I don't think you should have to hide, maybe broadcasting your sexuality isn't exactly wise, especially given how you've been put on the map now, with the whole Cult thing."
"Right," she nodded. "I get it."
There was a pregnant pause.
"You really don't care?" she asked, hating how small she sounded.
"Not one bit," he promised. Then, "Thank you for telling me."
She smiled down at her lap. "Well, we're partners now," she said, injecting a hint of teasing into her voice, just to keep things feeling normal. He smiled, looking pleased. Her smile turned mischievous. "Since we're sharing, and all, what's your favourite position-?"
Toby jabbed at his stereo until one of his audiobooks began playing at full volume. Faith laughed, sticking in her earbuds and contenting herself with watching the rain fall.
They arrived in upstate New York within the hour, pulling in at the Honeydew Motel, which looked like it was in the running to win the world record for America's Seediest Motel. Even the guy behind the counter was creepy, with a moustache that would put a porn-star's to shame, and hair so greasy it looked wet. He leered down Faith's top as he was booking her in and didn't even stop when she casually mentioned being there with her husband.
"Got the room key?" Toby asked as she met him back by the car, a bag thrown over each shoulder.
"Remember last time I said we were going to die if we went inside a place?" she asked.
He rolled his eyes. "We'll be fine, Faith. What's the worst that can happen?"
She glared. "Well, now that you've said it, likely everything."
"Don't be superstitious."
"We're hunters, Toby," she muttered. "Jesus Christ."
"Come on," was all he said – he definitely seemed distracted by something, but she couldn't put her finger on what it might have been. He led her up the flight of stairs to room 112, letting her in first. She had to resist the urge to hold out her gun as she stepped over the threshold.
The room was just as seedy as the rest of the place. The bedsheets looked like they hadn't even been changed, the whole room smelt like rotting cabbage and cigarettes, and the carpet was covered in suspicious stains that Faith didn't even want to think about, much less step on.
"Just once I'd like to stay at the Ritz," she sighed. A cockroach scuttled up the wall to her right. She was tempted to give up altogether and just go sleep in the car, but as if sensing her thoughts, Toby grabbed her by the arm to keep her there.
"You'll be fine," he assured her.
"Yeah, and positive for herpes."
He ignored her. Putting their bags down, he pulled out his cell and dialled this mysterious Garth guy's number. Faith walked into the bathroom to give it a once-over, wholly unsettled by the stains she found within.
She heard Toby murmuring, then a bark of laughter, followed by a sudden knocking at their door. She stepped back into the main part of the room to see Toby pulling open the door. On the other side stood perhaps the one person on this whole earth Faith would have bet her life wasn't a hunter. Apart from the flannel shirt he wore under a hoodie, he absolutely didn't look the type.
"Toby!" cried the man – well, he was just a boy, really – who could only be Garth. He pulled Toby into one of the largest, most enthusiastic hugs Faith had ever seen. But the biggest surprise of all was the way Toby didn't try to weasel his way out of it; he just gripped this Garth guy back and laughed as the skinny kid tried to lift him off his feet.
Faith felt vaguely like she was watching animals do some sort of strange ritual at the zoo.
"Man, it's so good to see you!" Garth said brightly, grinning wide enough to split a lip as he clapped Toby on the shoulder. "Haven't seen you since – well, it'd have to be that wendigo in Montana."
"Yeah, that was right before I picked up this barnacle," said Toby, throwing his thumb in Faith's direction. She stood stock still, like the zoo animals might come to attention and try to take a bite out of her.
Garth's boyish face lit up at the sight of her, as if they were old friends. "You must be Faith!" he exclaimed, easily the happiest person Faith had ever met. He shuffled forwards and held out his arms in offer. "Hope you don't mind," he beamed, "I'm a hugger."
Unsure she had any other option, Faith cautiously stepped into the tall, lanky hunter's arms and let him hug her.
"You're a good hugger," said Garth into her shoulder. "And you smell like strawberries!"
"Okay, that's enough of that," said Faith, extracting herself from Garth. It wasn't creepy, as such, but more like this guy was just so genuine that he didn't know how to censor himself for normal, adult conversation.
"It's so nice to meet you," said Garth, unperturbed by her quick getaway. He pointed back at Toby, who had shut the door and was watching them with a smirk. "This guy has nothing but wonderful things to say; I think at this point I've heard everything!"
Faith made a face at Toby. "Everything?"
"Oh yeah," Garth nodded cheerfully. The smile slid from his face as he laid a large, thin hand on her shoulder, eyes turning serious. "Hey, if you ever need anyone to talk to, you can call me anytime. My door's always open. Or…it would be if I had a door. My car has doors, so those, maybe-?"
"Garth," interjected Toby, and Faith could have wept with relief. "Why don't you fill us in on this case?"
Garth let go of Faith and shrugged off the messenger bag hanging at his side. Pulling it open, he began to speak. "First impressions?"
Toby and Faith exchanged a glance. "Of what?"
Garth looked up. "The case?"
"You haven't told us anything about it yet," said Faith slowly.
Garth spread his arms like a real-estate agent showing off a property. "You're standing in it, baby."
Faith glanced at Toby, who looked like he was trying not to hang his head in defeat. "You had us check-in at the job location, Garth?"
"Twenty-three murders in the last twelve years," was all Garth said, slapping a hand to the stack of folders he'd pulled from his bag. He laid them out across the table for them to see, and keeping wary of Garth's touchy hands, Faith ambled forwards. "Every six months, like clockwork, there's a death."
She frowned, sifting through the profiles of all the previous victims. "And the police aren't doing anything about it?"
Garth laughed like she'd cracked a joke. "Oh, that's a good one," he chuckled, wiping at one eye. "The victims are all male, all over eighteen but under forty-five."
"When was the last death?"
"Exactly six months ago tomorrow."
Faith realised what that meant at the same moment as Toby, and they met eyes across the table full of paperwork. "Which means-" began Toby, but Garth was already there.
"Yup, tomorrow's the big night," he said, patting his utterly flat stomach then sliding his thumbs into the belt loops of his jeans. "I was here six months ago; didn't manage to catch the sucker. Made plans to come back again this year. I was gonna do it alone, but then I heard y'all weren't far off and thought, hey, the more the merrier!"
Faith genuinely had no idea how she was supposed to respond to such a thing. She stared helplessly at Toby, who only smirked and left her to fend for herself. "So, what is it?" he asked Garth keenly.
"Well, I have a theory."
"A theory?" Toby sighed. "Garth, you just said you've been working on this half a year, and you only have a theory?"
"Well, the thing only comes out of hiding once every six months, Tobes," said Garth with a sigh of his own. "It's not so easy to pin down when you only get two tries a year."
Faith met Toby's eyes over the table again and mouthed, "Tobes?" with a laughter dancing in her eyes. Toby didn't deign to acknowledge her.
"Well, what's your theory?"
Garth rifled through his research, scrambling to find something, then whipped out a thin manilla folder stuffed with pieces of printed paper. "I reckon we're dealing with a Succubus," he said proudly, handing the folder to Toby, who took it and began to leaf through its contents.
Faith walked around to his side of the small table, leaning over his arm to read along with him. As they did, Garth explained his theory at length.
"There's Succubi lore all over the world, but what's looking strongest is the lore that suggests it's a form of demon. I'm not sure why this one only attacks every six months – maybe that's how long it can go without feeding," he mused. "Now, my thoughts are that it's a female Succubus, given that all the victims are male. There's also a chance that Succubi are all female, and feed exclusively on men, but that's still a working theory-"
Toby held up a hand to stop him. "I assume you have a plan."
Faith thought he might have been assuming a little too much, but then Garth grinned, the expression just a little bit wicked. "Do I ever?" he said, then stopped speaking.
"Don't leave us in suspense," Faith told him flatly.
Garth was practically bouncing on the tips of his toes with excitement. "I've booked out every other room in the whole motel," he announced giddily. Neither Faith nor Toby knew how to react to that, staring at him in silence. Garth's face fell when they didn't immediately understand the genius. "Well, I figure by limiting the Succubus' choices, we're forcing it to choose one of us to snack on for the night. Faith, you're a woman, so this thing shouldn't affect you. Once it's exposed itself, you can leap into action and kill it."
Her beamed at them proudly.
"It's an airtight plan."
"But if this thing's smart," Toby pointed out, "won't it recognise that all these empty rooms means it's a trap?"
Garth opened his mouth, then promptly shut it again when he realised that he hadn't considered that a possibility. Faith frowned down at the printed web page on South-African Succubi myth. There were plenty of ways this could go wrong, but despite all those little nit-picks, Faith could admit the plan wasn't totally terrible.
"I think it was a smart move," she complimented him quietly. "Booking out the whole motel… Ballsy, but clever."
Garth grinned like she'd just presented him with a Hunter of the Year award. "Thank you, Faith, that means a lot, coming from you."
Faith had no idea why that would be, but smiled all the same, returning her attention to the research. "Well, how do we kill it?"
"There's differing legends, but a few said that a stake through the heart with wood from a birch tree."
"And do you have the stake?"
"Of course, I got you, girl," he said with the sort of confidence she thought men should figure out how to bottle. He rifled more in his messenger bag, pulling out a long, thin stake whittled from white birch wood.
Faith took it from him, weighing it in her palm. It was the lightest stake she'd ever held, but it felt steady under her hand and the tip was whittled to a deadly point. This thing was going to get the job done.
Nodding to herself, she put it down on the table and looked up at the two guys curiously. "So, if the bi-annual attack isn't until tomorrow night, then it looks like we've got a night free," she said, looking at Garth with a smile. "Toby and I were talking about hustling a bit of pool to replenish our petty cash. Got a bar in mind?"
"Do I ever," said Garth in that endlessly cheery way of his.
Faith had a feeling they were going to be in for a hell of a night.
They hit three bars in three hours, but only struck gold on the last.
The first was this out-of-the-way biker's bar where a guy like Garth should have been shitting himself, but instead he was confident as all hell, introducing himself to the large, tattooed men lining the bar like they were old friends.
It didn't seem like a very wealthy area – and Faith wasn't in the business of stealing from the needy – so she casually asked Garth if they could go somewhere a little more upmarket. He'd said, "Say no more," and taken them directly to a gay bar on the edge of town.
It was one of those loud-and-proud places where the drinks were all fruity and half the customers were in drag. Toby looked so supremely uncomfortable that Faith almost felt bad for him. There were no pool tables or dart boards to hustle at, and there was only costume jewellery to steal – so it was kind of a dead end.
Faith quietly told Garth that she didn't feel like she fit in, and he'd taken it in his stride, leading them from the bar with a high-five exchanged with the bouncer.
The final bar was more Faith's usual speed. It was a typical dive bar, full of plenty of pool tables and dart boards, a wall full of no-nonsense liquor up the back, and classic rock playing from the jukebox in the corner.
"This is it, Garth," Faith said, forgetting herself and gripping Garth by the shoulders in excitement. "Third time's a charm."
Toby immediately made his way to the bar, beginning to make a show of ordering more than he could handle, while Faith wandered over to the dart boards and lingered by them, looking lost. Garth happily amused himself with scanning the jukebox's library and keying in all his favourite songs.
It didn't take long for some college dude-bros to appear and pull her into a game of darts. She happily played along, throwing back the drinks they bought her and pretending to be terrible until, finally, when she seemed drunkest, she took them for all they were worth.
They were cursing at her by the time the clock chimed ten. Garth was with Toby by the pool table, looking concerned when they slung derogatory slurs her way. Toby shook his head at Garth while Faith just wiggled her fingers calmly at the boys until they finished their tantrums and left to go lick their wounds.
She pocketed the money, nodded at Toby and Garth to assure them she was fine, then made her way to the bar to scope for easy marks. She'd had a lot of shots with those guys, so she ordered a water instead, drinking deeply as she pretended to bob her head along to the music while she scanned the bar for easy pickings.
Someone settled down onto the stool beside her without invitation. Faith looked up, expecting another horny boy looking for a quick lay, only to find a woman with blue eyes and a pretty smile looking back at her.
"You really took those poor boys to school," she said, a hint of an accent to her voice, though Faith couldn't say from where.
Faith looked her up and down, taking in the scandalously short skirt and killer high heels. Her legs were like something out of a dream. "It's their fault for assuming I'm just a woman."
The woman leant closer, and Faith got a face full of heady, flowery perfume. Her head swam and she wanted to lick the woman's throat to see if she tasted as good as she smelt. "You're not just a woman, then?" the woman asked, eyes drifting over Faith's peachy lips and exposed cleavage.
It had been a very long time since Faith had flirted with anyone – even longer since she'd wanted to. But she discovered it was kind of like riding a bike. You never truly forgot how. "Honey, I'm the woman," Faith said smoothly, gesturing to the bartender for a couple of shots. "Faith Bueller," she said, extending a hand.
The woman's smile was purely predatory, and a pleasant shiver rattled down the length of Faith's spine. "Brandi Hanks," she said, putting her smooth, warm hand in Faith's.
"Well, Brandi Hanks," drawled Faith, picking up the shots of tequila the bartender had just laid before them and handing one to her new lady friend. "It's very nice to meet you."
The drinks kept coming and things became a little bit blurry after that. At some point she vaguely remembered climbing onto her barstool to find Toby across the bar and yell, "Pineapple!" at the top of her lungs before leaving the bar with Brandi.
They went to her place, although Faith had no memory of actually getting there. One moment she was at the bar, then she felt extremely dizzy, then she was naked in the woman's bed and things went from frustratingly-blurry to pleasantly-blurry in an instant.
When Faith woke up the next morning, it was to a dainty, unfamiliar arm thrown over her bare waist. She squinted against the sunshine and looked at the woman – Brandi – in the daylight.
Faith's whole body thrummed with that wonderful post-sex aching sensation, and Brandi was beautiful – there was no denying – but the fact that she looked over and it wasn't Nate naked in the bed beside her… Faith felt vaguely ill.
But she knew she couldn't keep living in the past, so Faith swallowed down that sick feeling and woke Brandi up with a kiss, whispering that she had to get to work. Brandi asked if she'd call, Faith apologetically told her that, didn't she mention? She was heading back to South Dakota tomorrow.
Brandi understood, but still insisted they go for round two before she left.
"You seem quiet," the stunningly perfect woman beside her whispered, tracing her fingertips over the gentle swell of Faith's chest.
Brandi's expression was so open, Faith found the truth spilling from her without thought – or maybe that was just the hangover talking. "It's been a long time since I've been with a woman," she confessed.
Brandi's smile was sultry. "Well, if it helps any, you certainly haven't lost your touch."
Faith laughed. She'd never regretted choosing to go into hunting, not even for a minute. From the moment she'd learnt the truth of the world and her strange, uncertain, dangerous place in it, she'd known this was the right path for her. But she couldn't help but think in that moment, laid lazily in the late-morning sun with a beautiful woman, that she wished her world was a little bit less complicated.
That she could stick around and see Brandi again. That they could go out on dates without the fear of the Hades' Cult sneaking up on her again and leaving nothing for Faith to find but an empty apartment and a threat written in Brandi's blood. It was that sobering thought that had her up and out of bed, claiming she had to get back to work to get everything done before their flight tomorrow.
Brandi accepted the excuse without question, and Faith said goodbye with a rushed kiss and a promise to call if she was ever in the area again.
Toby was already awake when she let herself into the motel – which wasn't surprising, given the late hour of the morning, but she'd hoped beyond hope he'd decided to sleep in for once in his life. He was sitting at the small table of their room, which was still covered in all of Garth's research materials.
"Good night?" Toby asked over the rim of his cup of tea, brow arched.
"I'd assumed our deal included no judgement," she grumbled.
Toby scoffed. "I agreed to no such thing."
She laughed despite her throbbing head, taking the other seat at the small table and resting her head on her folded arms. Toby stood without a word and began making another cup of coffee. When he was done, she took it with a muttered, "You're my favourite," and gulped it down, uncaring that it scalded her tongue.
"How do you feel?" he asked, returning to his spot and opening the laptop he'd slid shut when she'd come in. She opened her mouth to answer, but he had a certain look in his eye that made her realise he wasn't talking about her hangover. Faith shut her mouth with a click of teeth, and Toby's expression was sympathetic. "It's no easy thing, your first time with someone new after…after losing your partner," he said gently, as if understood exactly how she felt.
"The actual thing was plenty easy," she argued, "like riding a bike." Toby grimaced at the imagery, but Faith sighed and turned her eyes into the fathomless depths of her coffee. "It was the morning after that was the hard part. Waking up to the sunshine, all wonderfully achy, only to look over and realise the person beside me wasn't Nate. And remembering that it never would be again."
Toby reached for her, and she let him hold her hand, squeezing affectionately. "It gets easier," he promised.
Faith was about to ask whether he knew that from experience when there came a quiet knock on the door. Toby stood to let Garth in, and he laughed good-naturedly at the bags under her eyes. "You look like you had fun," he said playfully.
Suddenly she remembered Toby's warning about the wider hunting community maybe not being so accepting of her sexual proclivities and glanced at Toby in alarm. Reading the panic in her eyes, Toby reassured her, "Garth's a good one. You don't need to worry about him."
Garth quickly caught on. "Oh, of course. No judgement from me. Actually, I myself once had this rather wacky weekend of experimentation in Cincinnati-"
"So, what's our plan tonight?" she interjected, because the absolute last thing she needed in that moment was to hear about Garth's sexual exploits.
"I'm going to pretend to sleep in here – Garth's in the connecting room," Toby began. "We went and got the key to the connecting door this morning – told the owner we were old friends. We'll each be sleeping in either room, with this door unlocked for easy access," he added, knocking at the door inlaid in the wall to his left.
"And I'll be?" she asked, greedily inhaling the steam coming off her coffee like an addict getting her fix.
"Pretending to sleep in the spare bed in Garth's room."
"What? Why not in here? I'm not leaving you alone."
"There's a greater chance the Succubus will attack whoever's alone in their room. I've been hunting longer than Garth, so it makes sense that we try to sway it to come after me."
"What'll you do if it feeds on you?" she demanded.
"You'll be listening on the other side of the door, and the moment you hear anything out of place, you'll come through and attack."
She frowned. "Do you not see all the ways this could go terribly, horribly wrong?"
"No, I do," he said calmly. She didn't feel reassured. "Want to run through some drills while we wait for nightfall, or would you rather sleep last night off?"
"Sleep sounds amazing, but honestly, if I don't get some food in me soon, I may puke."
Garth was up in an instant. "I'll go for a run. What're you hankering for?"
She blinked up at him in surprise. "Really?"
"Sure," he grinned toothily. "I could do with some lunch. Is it just me, or are you feeling Subway?"
They relayed their orders and Garth left them with a wave, waving off Faith's offer to give him some cash for the food. He disappeared out the door and Faith looked over at Toby, who was smirking down at the book in front of him. She stood to her feet and moved sluggishly over to one of the beds across the room.
"You had a good night, then? Truly?" Toby asked as she lazily toed off her shoes and began to shuffle her way backwards on top of the ugly, starchy bedcover.
Faith laid on her back, staring with unfocused eyes up at the poorly-painted ceiling. "It was nice to pretend, just for a night."
"Pretend?"
"That I wasn't broken." Toby said nothing for long enough that the silence grew stifling. "Maybe I'm still drunk," she mused, not really meaning to say it aloud.
"You aren't broken, Faith."
She turned forcefully onto her side, so her face was aimed away from him. "Yeah," she said without conviction. Thankfully, Toby let them fade back into silence, and she even managed a nap before Garth reappeared, their lunch in hand.
Faith took another nap after eating, and so the day flew by. By the time she'd fully shaken off the night before (and the disconcerting wake-up to a naked stranger who wasn't her late boyfriend), night had fallen, and the hunt had begun.
"This is a terrible idea," she told Toby, scowling at him like it were all his fault as she hovered in the doorway, dressed in pyjamas because Garth thought it would 'help sell the bit'.
"Probably," agreed Toby before cheerfully slamming the door in her face. She made a rude gesture at the closed door, then turned to Garth, who had already kicked off his shoes and laid down on one of the beds with his arms folded casually behind his head.
"He'll be all right, Fay," said Garth, smiling at her warmly. "I don't know anyone tougher. Except maybe Bobby, but that probably goes without saying."
Faith attempted a smile and reluctantly took a seat on her bed. Garth had suggested they go through the motions of getting ready for bed, so Faith made a show of combing out her dark, curly hair while Garth wandered into the bathroom to brush his teeth.
"You're not brushing your teeth?" he asked around a mouthful of sudsy toothpaste, head poking out from around the bathroom corner.
"Left my toothbrush in the other room."
"There's nothing more important on this earth than dental hygiene, Fay," he said seriously.
"I'll brush them in the morning," she assured him, torn between thinking that it was ridiculous she had to promise to brush her teeth and also finding it sweet that he cared.
Eventually, their forced routines were over, and they were settled in their respective beds. Faith had her favourite rifle stashed underneath her bed and a knife beneath her pillow, right beside the birch stake, which Garth had happily let her take, stating that Toby was her partner, so she should do the honours. Weird way to put it – but she was glad to be armed.
Lights off, they lay prone in their beds, wide awake and alert for any hint of noise from the room next door.
"Do you think the succubus has feelings?" Garth whispered suddenly.
Making a face into the dark, Faith said, "Dunno. I mean, I guess so?"
"Maybe it has a family," Garth whispered.
"Garth," she said, halfway between irritated and amused. "It's a succubus. A devourer of souls? Don't go getting gun-shy on me now."
"You kidding? I'm completely gun-confident," Garth replied, a little above a whisper. She winced even as a smile tugged at her lips. "I just wonder, sometimes… Y'know, whether the monsters we kill have families and friends and hobbies, just like us."
"Garth," she said again. "I'm more than happy to have this conversation with you – believe me, I am – but do you really think now is the right time for it?"
He hesitated, then seemed to see her point. "Point taken."
They faded back into an anxious silence.
An hour passed, then two – at some point, Garth got up to use the bathroom and then drank a glass of water before laying back down and pretending to sleep again. Faith didn't feel tired – two naps in one day had its perks – but at some point, she felt her mind drifting. She absentmindedly tapped out a rhythm against her thigh and was halfway through an old Beatles song she'd heard the night before on the radio when she seemed to slip into some sort of weird fugue state.
It was like one moment she was conscious, and the next she wasn't – but somehow, she knew she was dreaming. There was a strange music, a voice singing something pretty but indistinct – a siren's call to a ship's captain out at sea – and she felt herself rising upwards, almost as if she were floating. She could hear nothing but the music, enchanting and harrowing as it was.
The room around her was dark and blurry, like her eyes could see but her brain wasn't able to translate it. Faith vaguely heard a sound over the beautiful song, something irritating that made her want to snap for it to shut up – she just wanted to listen to the music.
She was aware of the door opening, but only vaguely. She thought she heard a shout, felt hands touching hers, but she just kept on moving forwards, towards that wonderful music. She didn't feel her feet touching the floor, didn't know anything but her mission, her desperate need to find the owner of this voice.
She kept moving without giving her body any command to do so. She was just a passenger, along for the ride but also desperately wanting to see what was at its end.
Finally, her desire and yearning paid off, because at last she came face-to-face with the voice. The blurry world didn't change, except for her vision of the woman, which became crystal clear. With dark hair and moonlight skin, she looked like something out of a fairy tale; her long, graceful arms outstretched to reach for Faith, who wanted nothing more than to sink into her and know she belonged.
Reality was fuzzy, the dream the only real thing in this world. She was very vaguely aware of something happening around her – a battle of some kind? She liked battles. They were the only place where things ever made any sense anymore. The only place she ever got some peace.
Then the song was over, and the world snapped back into focus like a band pulled too tight. Faith gasped for air like she'd been held under water all this time and was just now finally allowed to breathe.
Toby was there, and so was Garth. They were fighting a woman in a black dress – their guns tossed aside as she battled them with her bare hands – and it took Faith a moment to realise the woman looked frightfully familiar.
"Brandi?!" Faith blurted, staring at the woman in horror. She had Garth by the neck. He was scrambling for air, going red in the face. The woman Faith had spent last night with – a woman, but apparently not a human – opened her mouth in a snarl. Garth managed to get a knife free from his belt and stabbed it into Brandi's leg. She cried out in pain and dropped him. Garth fell to the ground and panted for breath.
Faith couldn't process what she was seeing.
She'd spent an entire night with this woman – knew her in the most intimate way. She knew that she took her whiskey on the rocks, and that the underside of her knees were deliciously sensitive, and that she had a fondness for minimalist paintings that looked more like someone had just drawn a circle and called it a day than actually made a piece of art. She'd teased her about it the night before. That seemed like a dream now.
Brandi didn't answer her confused cry, because then Toby was there, lifting his gun and firing three rounds directly into her chest. Faith watched as if frozen in place as Brandi jerked backwards under the force of the bullets – but they didn't kill her. They seemed to only make her angry
She still hadn't really caught up to the events happening around her – for a brief moment just an innocent bystander thrust into a war she couldn't hope to comprehend – but the one thing Faith did register was Toby sprinting forwards with the birch stake held out, aimed directly for Brandi's heart.
Faith acted on pure, stupid instinct. She threw herself to the right and locked an arm around her friend's waist, hitting him with enough force to knock him off course. Stumbling backwards, Toby gaped at her as she shifted into his path, a veritable wall between him and Brandi.
"Faith-" he began, but her thunderous pulse was so loud in her own ears that she barely heard him.
"You can't hurt her!" she cried, completely gone on panic and confusion and hurt and more confusion. "There's a mistake – she's – there's a mistake!"
Toby looked dangerously close to pity as he held out his gun, aiming it over her shoulder at Brandi. "Faith, she's a succubus," he said sternly. "She's got you under her thrall. You've gotta snap out of it!"
"What? No! Toby, I'm myself," Faith insisted, palms sweaty and her world a bewildering smear of uncertainty. "I was with her last night – I would know if – she's not-"
But then an arm wrapped around her throat and the tip of something sharp was pressed to the soft skin of her cheek. Faith gasped as she was tugged back against a very familiar body, the edge of that knife – or whatever it was – cutting into her skin. A droplet of blood trickled down her jaw.
"Drop the stake – and the gun – or I kill her!" shouted Brandi, but her voice was all wrong, husky when it should have been smooth.
"You'll kill her anyway," said Toby, by all appearances perfectly calm and collected, but Faith knew him well enough to see the note of panic in his blue eyes.
The knife cut harder into Faith's face, and she winced as more hot, sticky blood dripped from her jaw, but refused to make a sound. Her hands went to her waist, searching for her ever-present knife, but remembered belatedly that because of Garth's stupid idea, she'd taken off everything except her goddamn pyjamas. Then the hand around her throat tightened and Faith let out an involuntary croak.
The panic in her partner's eyes flared. "Okay! Okay, look," he said, letting the gun fall, the weapon spinning smoothly, drooping harmlessly from a single finger. His other hand held up the birch stake before slowly lowering it to the ground.
Faith noticed now that they were in the middle of the motel's parking lot and thought distantly that it was a good thing Garth had thought to book the whole place out. Clearly not all his ideas were completely disastrous.
"Kick it away," Brandi ordered, voice smooth in Faith's ear.
Toby did as he was told, even as he spoke, words chosen with care. "You only kill once every six months," he said slowly. "I think there's a reason for that, Brandi. I think it's because that's the least you can feed to survive. I don't think you want to do this. You don't want to kill Faith."
Brandi let out a snarl that was anything but human, and Faith was very proud when she didn't flinch away from the sound of it. "Don't pretend to know me," she hissed. Toby held up his hands in surrender. "I do what I have to," she continued. "One life every six months. It's not too much to ask."
"Yes, it is," said Toby. "It's too much."
Brandi seemed surprised by the frank answer and her grip on Faith tightened until her nails – suddenly more claws than anything else – began to cut into her skin. Faith felt more blood well to the surface and bit down on her tongue to keep from cursing.
"I'm sorry, I really am," said Brandi sharply. "But I don't have a choice."
"You do," said Toby. "Right now, I'm giving you one. Take me instead."
Faith's eyes shot wide open in horror. She tried to convey with her gaze alone that he was a fucking moron, and to stop it immediately, right this second. Although, that was rather difficult to say with just her eyes alone. She didn't blame him for not getting the message. Besides, he'd always been too stubborn to function.
Faith wasn't really sure how Brandi was going to react to such an offer, but she'd have to say laughter was pretty low on the list. "You?!" Brandi asked, sounding torn between scandalised and violently amused.
"Yes," said Toby firmly. "Me."
She laughed again, the knifepoint in Faith's face tearing the skin a little deeper. "Sorry sugar," the succubus tutted. "Even if it did work that way, it wouldn't work on you. Gay men just don't do it for me."
The blood drained from Toby's face and panic flitted across his face like lightning, only it didn't fade into nothing after a moment, but lingered and etched its way into every crevice in his profile.
Brandi gave a terrible laugh. "What, was it meant to be a secret? I could smell it on you the moment I walked into that dive bar."
Faith's patience snapped in two, and she drove her elbow into Brandi's gut with a strength that took her own breath away. The succubus let out a piercing cry and stumbled backwards, only to fall directly on the birch wood stake Garth had been preparing to drive through her heart. Faith stumbled towards Toby, who caught her in strong arms and held her tight as she turned back in time to watch Brandi…change.
Her face – that beautiful, too-perfect face – began to twist and furl. Faith watched with no small degree of horror as it transformed into something so terribly inhuman, it made her want to gag. She watched, rooted to her spot, as she became a monster. Still wearing her dress, she looked like a mummified corpse, with gaping holes for eyes and a deep void for a mouth, skin waxy and losing more colour with every heartbeat that passed.
Finally, she just collapsed on the pavement – a lifeless husk – to reveal Garth, blinking in surprise, as if he hadn't expected that to work.
"I did it!" he cried, awfully chipper for someone who had just slain a thing from a realm of pure nightmare.
But after all of that, neither Faith nor Toby particularly felt like celebrating. Toby let her go, not meeting her eye as he crossed the space and grabbed the corpse by its shoulders. "Help me get the body into my trunk?" he asked Garth shortly. "I'll take it out of the city and burn it."
Faith felt like someone had thunked her over the head. She watched in a daze as Toby and Garth managed to carry the nightmarish corpse between them, dropping it artlessly into the trunk of Toby's car and dusting their hands like gardeners after a good day's work.
Toby turned his face towards her but managed to keep from meeting her eye. He still looked pale, all the colour gone from his face. Faith chewed anxiously on her bottom lip as he said, "Go pack our things. We're leaving in five."
He was right, of course. They couldn't very well stick around. Despite being the only people currently at the motel, there was still too much of a chance somebody had seen their fight and subsequent murder of Brandi. The important thing now was to get as far away from the scene of the crime as humanly possible.
Garth joined her back up in the connected rooms, stuffing his things in a bag of his own while Faith flitted about the room and tossed her and Toby's things into whoever's bag was closest. They could sort through their things properly wherever they stopped next. Sad thing was, belongings could be packed away, but there was little to do about the gaping hole in her chest, her worry for Toby all-encompassing.
She didn't allow herself to think about what the succubi had revealed, and even less about the fact that she'd spent an entire night with the thing and hadn't had even a hint as to its true nature. She resolutely focused on her task, hoping that with time and patience, things might make sense once again.
Back out by the cars, Toby was smoking a cigarette – she hadn't even known he'd smoked, and the knowledge that there was suddenly so much she didn't know about him was like a sucker-punch to her gut.
Their goodbye to Garth wasn't drawn out, though the solitary hunter certainly seemed to want it to last as long as possible. His hug lasted a short eternity, and Faith was too distracted to even feel freaked out when he told her again that she smelled nice.
"We should team up more often," Garth told her, finally pulling away and grinning at her goofily.
"We should," Faith said robotically, but he didn't appear to notice.
He pulled Toby into one of his warm, everlasting hugs. Faith heard Toby murmuring something to Garth under his breath, and when he pulled away, Garth said, "You have my word, Tobes."
Still looking rather ill, Toby nodded gratefully and said nothing. Deciding not to comment, Faith asked for Garth's phone to put in her details. "Keep in contact," she ordered, and Garth saluted semi-seriously in reply.
Then they were going their separate ways – Garth off to his next job while Faith and Toby headed north-west to find somewhere mostly unpopulated where they could burn the succubus' body without drawing attention to themselves. It was unlikely there was any way for her to reanimate, but you could never be too certain when it came to the supernatural. It was better to be safe than sorry.
They drove in absolute silence for roughly a half an hour. Toby didn't play any of his cheesy audiobooks and Faith didn't even take out her MP3 player. They just sat in the quiet, no sounds filling the car but the putter-growl of the engine and the howl of the wind whipping past them on the freeway.
The further they drove the more civilisation began to fade away, leaving nothing but long stretches of forest. While Faith tended to enjoy being away from big cities, she had to admit that suddenly the quiet didn't feel so much refreshing as it did isolating. Toby was silent behind the wheel, and the tension drew itself tighter with every minute that passed.
Faith's head was a storm of confusion. Was Toby angry about what happened? Embarrassed? She couldn't understand his reaction – not entirely. She wanted to make it better but had no idea how to begin.
Just when she was sure the wordless tension would choke her to death, Toby pulled off the main road and onto a dirt path that led deep into an area that looked like it had been used at one point as a makeshift camping ground. It was bare now, empty of life, and the perfect place to start a fire they didn't want anybody paying any attention to.
Toby brought the car to a stop and climbed out of the driver's seat. He walked silently around to the trunk while Faith worked on uncurling her hands and relaxing her tense body, reluctantly following him out into the chill.
It was still early – barely six in the morning – and considering they hadn't slept at all the night before, she knew she wasn't the only one feeling the effects of exhaustion. Still, she forced her sore joints to move and stepped out of the car.
Toby nodded at the corpse folded, utterly without dignity, in the trunk. Brandi's face was still morphed and twisted, that pretty mask forever gone, replaced by the ugly truth. Faith tried not to remember kissing that mouth, or the sensational glide of Brandi's damp skin across hers.
She gritted her teeth and grabbed the corpse's legs, lifting it from the trunk with a strength that surprised them both. Toby held the arms, and together they took it across the abandoned campsite to where a large pit had been burnt into the earth. It was a space meant for bonfires, not burning succubi to ash, but it would do in a pinch.
Body out of her hands, Faith needed no instruction to go back to the car and fetch the kerosene. When she got back to the pit, Toby was stood next to it but looking off into the trees, hands tucked deep into his pockets. His shoulders were hunched as though waiting to take a blow, and something about it made Faith's heart twist painfully.
It was that pain that gave her the push to finally speak.
"Are we going to talk about it?" she asked, beginning to squeeze the kerosene onto the body.
Toby flinched at the sound of her voice, hurting her heart further. He didn't turn away from the forest, hunching in on himself a little more. She got the feeling he didn't know what to say, so she took the pressure off him and started instead.
"I can't believe I…" she trailed off, the words catching in her throat. Her grimace was deep enough to make her temples ache. "Jesus, Toby, I slept with the thing. Twice!"
She sounded just horrified enough to draw a laugh out of her silent best friend, and she felt some of the sharp horror ebb away. Toby turned to look at her, hands still shoved into his pockets. He looked sheepish and young to her in a way he never had before.
"You should feel proud," he told her, amusement curling at the very edges of his mouth. "You're not a true hunter until you've been duped at least once by something masquerading as human."
Well, that made her feel a little better. "You?"
"It was a Fae," he told her. "I was on a hunt in Ireland, and I stuck my neck out for someone I thought was a fellow hunter. Turned out I was a fool, and the thing had been playing me from the start."
"Fae," she echoed. "Huh. That's a new one."
"They're rare, here in the US," he admitted. "You're much more likely to find them across the pond."
Faith shook her head. "You're so British," she teased. Toby smirked and said nothing, but soon even that was washed away, replaced by that bone-deep sadness that had clung to him since the very first night she'd ever met him. "Talk to me, Toby," she begged him. "Please."
Toby frowned down at the body in the fire pit, and sensing that he needed a moment to collect himself, Faith pulled out her lighter and lit the succubi on fire. It caught almost unnaturally quick, up in a blaze within the space between heartbeats.
Faith stepped far back from the flames and tried to breathe through her mouth. She and Toby stood there, staring at the burning corpse, and it wasn't until the flames were high and the air stank of burning flesh that Toby finally spoke.
"It wasn't that I didn't trust you enough to tell you the truth," he began slowly, folded in on himself. Faith didn't look away from the fire, giving him the space he needed to think. "After you told me about your sexuality – hell, way before that, even – I knew you wouldn't judge me. But the thing is… I've been lying to myself about it for so long that I guess it just felt like…like instinct, to keep it a secret."
A lump appeared in Faith's throat. "You don't have to justify yourself to me, Toby."
"I know," he said. "But I'd like to explain, if you'll let me."
It was so perfectly polite that Faith wanted to laugh. She held it in, though; the last thing she wanted was to make him think she was laughing at him.
"The hunting community isn't the most…welcoming of spaces," he continued, each word carefully weighed before it was spoken. "Not when it comes to minorities like mine. There's a certain pressure to…be a certain way. There's a very clear-cut definition of masculinity, and acceptable sexuality – and if you don't fit into it… Well, we're a violent lot, aren't we?"
Faith could read between the lines, and her heart felt like someone had it in a vice. "Someone hurt you for it?"
Toby laughed, the sound ringing with bitterness. "Faith, I'm thirty-one years old," he reminded her wryly. "I grew up in England, in the 80s. I've been beaten for my sexuality more than once over the years."
That didn't make her feel any better, even though he'd said it like it lessened the blow somehow. But Faith said nothing, just letting him speak.
"I was open about it in my teens, hunting in England, but it brought me more trouble than freedom. When I came to America, I knew I couldn't keep it up. It was safer for me – easier – if I just stayed in the closet." He hung his head. "I'm not proud of it. I'm a coward and I'm well aware."
"You're not a coward, Toby," Faith snapped, a fire in her eyes that rivalled the one at their feet. "You were doing what you needed to survive. It's no comment on you at all. If anything, it just condemns everyone else; the fact that nobody let you feel safe enough to be who you really are."
Toby smiled and shook his head. "Fanciful idea," he said dryly, seeming amused.
"Maybe it does sound a little idealistic," she allowed on second thought. "But that makes it no less true. You're worthy of living your truth, Toby."
He met her eye with that same, wan smile. "Thank you, Faith," he said quietly, then shook his head and moved onto the rest of his explanation. "Anyway, I mostly succeeded in keeping things to myself. I just denied myself connection of any kind. It was a lonely time. But then, I met…" he trailed off, voice catching in his throat.
"Oliver," she finished knowingly.
She thought that this was the first time she'd ever looked at Toby and thought he looked truly vulnerable. Her hunting partner kept a wall around him, built so high up that she'd be surprised if his heart ever saw the daylight. Faith had thought, once or twice over the months they'd been hunting together, that she'd have liked to glimpse the man behind that wall, but at the end of the day, she had a rather impenetrable wall of her own. She really wasn't one to talk.
Let him keep his walls. If it made him feel safe, if it made him feel strong, then she could never begrudge him his floodgates.
When Toby met her eyes now, his were lined with silver. "I loved him, Faith," he told her in a whisper, like the trees themselves might be listening. "I loved him with everything I had."
Heart breaking for him, Faith crossed the two steps between them and pulled one of his hands from its pocket, holding it in hers tightly. "Did he know?" she asked, just as quiet as him.
The tears in Toby's eyes began to spill over, trailing down his cheeks. Faith only gripped his hand tighter. Unexpectedly, despite his tears, Toby broke out into a smile. "Yeah," he said, the word half-sob, half-laugh. "Yeah, we were…we were together."
He seemed happy to be talking about it at all, maybe relieved. She wondered just how long it had been since he'd had anyone to tell. "How long?" she asked, smiling because he looked happy, even if it was the sad kind.
"Hunted for eleven, together for eight," he said, still smiling that pained smile.
"Eight years," she echoed warmly. "That's a long time."
"We had a – a commitment ceremony," he admitted. "I mean, we couldn't legally get married, so we did the next best thing."
"I bet you wore a suit and everything."
He laughed tearfully. "Yeah," he said. "You'd have found the whole affair terribly boring."
"Nah," she disagreed. "It'd probably have made me cry."
"Really?"
"I always cry at weddings."
"Do you?"
"Well, I would if I were ever invited to one," she told him, for no other reason than to make him laugh. She succeeded, and he reached up with his free hand to wipe at the tears which had already begun to slow. Silence drifted between them, but every ounce of the tension that had filled it before was gone, dissipated like smoke. All that was left was quiet understanding and a shared, terrible grief. "I'm sorry for your loss, Toby," she whispered, squeezing his hand twice.
Toby smiled sadly. "Yeah," he said. "Me too."
"Thank you for telling me," she continued quietly. "I'm sorry you couldn't until now. And I don't think any less of you." Toby nodded distantly, but she could tell he understood what she was trying to say. "Permission to be mushy?"
Surprised from his emotional stupor, Toby looked over at her with one brow cocked. Faith smiled.
"You're one of the best friends I've ever had. And I know we didn't get off on the best foot, but now I can't imagine hunting alongside anyone else. Thank you for taking a chance on me, all those months ago. I know you were probably just doing it as a favour for Bobby, but I'll never forget how you helped me."
The silver in his eyes grew worse, and he lifted his sleeve to his face, mopping at it again.
"That's all I wanted to say," she said, smiling up at him calmly. "How long do you think until my succubi lover's nothing but ash?"
Toby laughed again, shaking his head in exasperation as he dried the last of his tears. "Thank you, Faith," he told her quietly.
She let go of his had to wave away his thanks. "No thanks necessary." She glanced down at the burning succubus before them, seeing the fire more so than the disintegrating body. "So, I was thinking we'd take a week or so off," she continued cheerfully.
Toby looked weary and surprised. "Really?"
She didn't need a break from hunting – if anything, this whole debacle just made her want to tackle the next case, and the next, and never stop – but the thing was, Toby did, even if he wasn't going to admit it. And if acting like she was the one who could use a break would help him take one, then she was happy to do it.
"A few days of lazing around, eating waffles for dinner and drinking cheap liquor? Come on, tell me that doesn't sound fun," she grinned.
Toby's lips twitched despite himself. "I think our ideas of relaxation are two very different things."
"Come on, Toby," she whined, "let's go somewhere and chill." He looked suspicious, but she held up a hand before he could argue. "The world isn't going to end if we take a week off the job."
He couldn't argue with that logic. "If you're sure," he said slowly, but she could see the hint of relief in his eyes and smiled proudly.
Winding her arm around his, Faith tucked herself into his side and turned them both to face the fire. It might not have been a bonfire with ghost stories and s'mores, but it was about as close as they came in their chosen lifestyle. Faith wouldn't have it any other way.
This had been a rough one; but she was sure only good things could be in their path. That was how things worked, wasn't it? Balance? Faith stared into the flames and felt confident that things were looking up from here.
A/N: Thank you all so much for your support so far, I appreciate it immensely. Next chapter we sync up with the show as Faith and the boys collide in the season 2 episode No Exit. Can't wait to show you! See you soon xx