Faith was pacing. Well, technically, it was more than just pacing; she was practically doing laps around Angel's living room. The vampire sat on the couch with his chin propped up on his hands, watching her carefully as she traveled back and forth over the hardwood floor, her feet almost moving by their own volition, carrying her everywhere and nowhere all at once.
She was pacing, and she was talking -- although in all fairness it couldn't really be described as talking either, because she was speaking so rapidly that it was hard to keep up with her train of thought. Hell, she couldn't even seem to keep up with herself. The overly distraught Slayer was currently waving her hands around as she went on, seemingly not being able to get her point across with words alone.
Or maybe she had to keep moving them so Angel wouldn't see that they were shaking.
"And it was just wasn't ever enough, no one ever appreciated what I could do 'cause they were always too busy 'ooh'-ing and 'ahh'-ing over Buffy because, guess what! She took a fucking *breath*! Jesus, let's all fall over ourselves and congratulate her on *existing*!" she snapped bitterly.
Angel sat quietly, allowing her the freedom needed to muddle through her extensive range of emotions. He'd held her for a long time as she had sobbed bitterly in his arms, murmuring words of comfort and stroking her hair until she'd been coherent enough to pull away. It hadn't been sexual in any way, nor was it meant to be; it was the touch of someone who'd been there before, who knew what it was like to hit bottom, to be jarred back to reality by the force of your past sins...to have blood on your hands, hatred in your heart.
She had shown him a side of her that he doubted anyone had ever seen, and he wanted to at least provide her what little comfort such a hard act deserved. He'd slipped almost unconsciously into the role of her protector, something about the way her breath hitched in her throat as she sobbed awakening the defensive instincts that had first stirred inside of him that sunny day that he'd first glimpsed his future sitting on the steps of her high school, happy, innocent and carefree, teenage-girl drama (not beheading tactics) the topic of conversation.
Faith, though she hid it well, was just as (if not more) insecure than Buffy had been, and while the feelings Angel felt towards her were certainly different, they were no less protective. He had been where she was now, knew *exactly* what she was going through...the guilt, the uncertainty, the self-loathing, the anguish, the confusion as to where to go from here...knew (even if it had taken him some ninety-odd years and a fifteen year-old girl to make him really *understand*) what she had to do to start herself on her own path towards redemption.
And while he had been comforting and calming her, Angel had wondered what would have happened if he had had someone to lean on when his soul had first been returned to him; if he would have been able to trust and open up more easily, if the walls he'd built around himself would have been lower, or even non-existent.
Faith threw her hands up in frustration, a strangled growl emitting from deep in her throat, bringing Angel back to the present. "So I finally just snapped. I mean, a girl can only watch as her competition gets all the glory for so long, you know? Besides, why should I play on the side of good when evil was offering so much more? I was feared, I was respected, I had a great apartment and an awesome wardrobe filled with lots of leather -- and I do mean *lots*. Closetfuls. It was a great job with *very* nice benefits."
"But you were feared by the wrong people," Angel pointed out, "by the ones who should've been helping you."
"Yeah, well, none of them were very eager to shower me with love and appreciation," she cut in. "They treated me like *I* was the odd one out, when it was all their precious Buffy's fault I got this gig in the first place! She DIED and I'm the one who got stuck with this destiny that I didn't ask for, so excuse me for wanting a little fucking admiration," Faith snapped. A sigh forced its way past her lips immediately following her outburst, and Angel watched her closely as she very obviously struggled with herself for barking at him. She met his gaze for a moment, allowing him but a glimpse at the distress blazing in her dark eyes before she turned away, her shoulders slumping.
Angel leaned back as he said, "That need for approval is just part of being human, Faith. It was perfectly normal for you to want everyone to acknowledge the things you'd done, the things you are capable of doing."
"Yeah," Faith said with a humorless chuckle, "but most people don't jump ship because they're not getting a pat on the head every now and then."
"No, they don't," Angel agreed. She looked at him, obviously waiting for more, but the vampire leaned back and crossed his legs casually, waiting for her to go on.
Faith was only happy to pick right up where she'd left off. The sudden urge to confront all the issues she'd always been too proud to was sort of, well, frightening in its intensity, but it also made perfect sense if she actually allowed herself to think about it. Not that she particularly wanted to, but her mind seemed to have gotten pretty sick of shoving all her problems aside and decided that the way to get back at her was to force her to see everything she hadn't ever wanted to even acknowledge -- they were her skeletons, and there was a reason why they'd been shoved into the closet.
She had been pushed (and had pushed herself, she was reluctant to admit) too far, and suddenly it was all catching up with her. The guilt and the shame and the jealousy and the hatred and the fear and all the other 'everything else's' that she'd buried deep inside of herself because she'd thought that emotions made her weak (Slayers couldn't afford to be weak, and girls were nothing but weak, so she'd set out to rectify that) were now overflowing, filling her with both a strange feeling of empowerment and an overwhelming nausea.
It was almost laughable that the only person she felt comfortable with at the moment was Angel. Not only was he a vampire, but he was also one of the things that she'd envied Buffy for most...love. The love of a man (vampire, man, whatever) who respected her, who wanted nothing but to protect her, to keep her safe, to do all those things that every woman dreamt of having.
No one had ever looked at Faith the way Angel looked at Buffy, and she hated her sister Slayer for it. She got the mom, and the friends, and the Watcher, but what Faith had wanted most was what Buffy had -- the love. Only she didn't really want it of the undead variety -- but a girl couldn't be too picky about that kind of thing, could she?
Not that she really believed in all that bullshit about "true love" and "soulmates". She couldn't deny that Buffy and her pet vamp sure did seem to possess all the qualities that qualified them (at least by the standards of all those dead romantic poets who never shut up about the damn thing) to be considered soulmates, but they seemed to be the only ones.
Faith had never wanted a soulmate. She'd listened to the angst-ing and whining Buffy had always been spouting and had decided that they were definitely more trouble than they were worth. No, all she wanted was love.
She just wanted someone to love her. Love her for her personality, or her smile, or her *toes*, even...just love her for something. Something that made her special. She wanted someone to spoil her, and worship her, and treat her as though she was the fucking Queen of the WORLD.
But she'd been taught young that love was a weakness, and that power was a wonderful substitute. She'd also been taught (Faith was a very fast learner when she wanted to be) that sex was a way to get power, and as long as she held that over a man's head she could do whatever the fuck she wanted. And that power was addictive.
Faith had never had a picturesque family life, an only child with an often times absent mother, left to fend for herself on the streets of Boston. She'd grown up young and she'd grown up fast, and she'd never looked back when she'd left that rundown neighborhood and pathetic existence.
Sometimes it felt like her life hadn't even begun until she'd met her Watcher.
Finally, she had a purpose, a reason...she was the Vampire Slayer, protector of the whole fucking world against the fucking forces of darkness. She was the Slayer. The Chosen One.
Only she wasn't The One, she was one of two, and her shiny new title lost its luster real quick. There was already a Slayer, a Slayer who'd died, who'd broken all laws of God and fucking *nature* by falling in love with a vampire, who always came out on top, juggled school and friends and slaying all on her little palm pilot, who was beautiful and witty and sweet and so NICE it was almost sickening. Her soulless boyfriend couldn't stop her, no demon could touch her (except for the one she'd allowed in her bed)...the two of them should've been the best of buds. Rebel Slayers who weren't afraid to tell those pompous British assholes where they could stick it and give them a big one-finger salute before going off and kicking some demon ass.
But no. Buffy Summers wasn't a rebel. She was *special*. Unique. The little princess who could always make the best of everything, turn lemons into fucking *lemonade*. And she had the caring mother, the faithful friends, the adoring boy-toy.
Faith found that hating Buffy was a very easy thing to do.
First there had been the cool ice of envy. Then, slowly, weaving through her veins like a snake, had been contempt, which was quickly followed by loathing, and then the burning acid of hatred. She didn't really hate *Buffy*, per say. No, what she hated was that Buffy had EVERYTHING: a stable life, the power to destroy, the title of protector of the fucking *Hellmouth*, the one who had held the fate of the HUMAN RACE in the palm of her hand at one point...and all she could do was whine. And bitch. And then there was the whole thing where she acted so bubbly and perky that Faith wanted to smack the California blondness right out of her.
Buffy didn't get it, though. Her NAME could make most demons shit their pants, and all she cared about was how unfair her life was. Angel was being distant or she was having a bad hair day or Willow's fuzzy fashion victim sweater had a pull in it...never a mention of how much power she held in her manicured little hand. No, because if she mentioned power she'd have an ego, and God forbid a Slayer have one of those. Maybe it just didn't go with the whole schoolgirl act.
But Faith got it. She understood what it meant to be a Slayer, and she was proud of if, of her muscles and her sweat and her skills and the ease with which she could drive a piece of wood through a vampire's heart. She wasn't just another chick from the wrong side of Boston, she was powerful, she was dangerous, and that was a combination that had corrupted even the purest throughout history. She could take anything she wanted, whether it be through sex, blood or violence. Want. Take. Have.
There was something, though, something that she'd wanted and hadn't been able to have. She'd wanted Buffy's life...wanted to BE Buffy. Wanted the vampire and the old lady and the Scoobies, wanted to...belong, really. Wanted...NEEDED...the respect, the affection, the love. All things she'd never had before.
Things never did turn out the way you wanted them to, though.
"No, they definitely don't," Angel said. Startled, Faith turned wide eyes to him, realizing that she'd been speaking aloud the whole time. With a sigh that was much too heavy for someone who wasn't even twenty, Faith walked over and plopped down next to him, closing her eyes as her head fell back against the couch. Having a breakdown was exhausting.
"So what do I do now? There a Recovering Slayers group I can join?"
He chuckled, shifting to peer down at her. Faith opened her eyes and found herself staring into his...and the compassion and understanding that were shining there was startling and...and somewhat...nice.
That was rich. The *vampire* was showing the *Slayer* understanding. Oh no. Her life wasn't fucked up at all. Well, at least she wasn't fucking him.
Which brought her back to Buffy. Faith pulled her legs up under her, making herself comfortable. She gave him what she hoped was a soft smile. "I don't get you." At his look of confusion, she went on. "Buffy is going to KILL you when she finds out that I'm here and that you're all about being my sponsor. She probably even threatened to show you all the fun things she can do with a stake without actually killing you, or withhold sex, even...and you're still sitting here, listening to me talk myself in circles about her."
"Faith, you need my help," Angel told her, his voice gentle, filled with more of that understanding that was making her feel kind of...tingly. Which was strange, since the whole situation was strange, and there Angel was, acting like he did this sort of thing every day. Actually, if what she'd heard while she'd been chained up was true, he was in the business now. It suited him. "Buffy can be a little...okay, she can be *very* stubborn. But she'll come around. All you have to do is regain her trust."
"That doesn't involve ice cream and chick movies, does it? I don't do that whole female bonding thing." She tried to smile, but suddenly found that her lips felt like lead. "You make it sound so easy."
"It's not easy," Angel said. "You know it's not easy. Nothing that's ever worth anything is easy. But if you're willing, if you show her that you *are* sorry and that you want to change...I think she'll come around. Eventually."
Faith snorted, absentmindedly cracking a knuckle. "I don't know about that, Angel. That ship has sailed. The apocalypse is gonna come and go before Buffy does the forgive and forget thing. And, really, I don't expect her to. I did kinda fuck things up royally."
"Faith, I lost my soul and became a homicidal murderer who came *very* close to sucking the world into hell. If she can trust me after that, I'm sure it won't be impossible for her to do the same with you."
"That's not the same and you know it. You lost your SOUL. I just took a trip over to the dark side of the Force," Faith argued, curling in on herself more. Man, this was hard to do. Why was she bothering, anyway? Why the hell was she sitting there ripping herself apart with some VAMPIRE when she could be out ruling the city of L.A., leaving mayhem and destruction and lots of horny guys in her wake? Was Buffy's forgiveness really worth all this?
And then she was inadvertently drawn to the memory of how close she'd felt to her sister Slayer, to the connection that they'd always had between them. They shared a sacred duty, and that made them alike in more ways than one. Buffy had been the first person to ever reach out to her, to accept her almost immediately, to invite her into her life.
Whether she wanted to admit it or not, Buffy had been a huge presence in her life, and obviously still was if she was this...this obsessed with her. Sure, she'd wanted revenge for her slain boss and the months she'd spent in a coma, but all along there had been something more driving her. She hadn't wanted to admit it, but she'd made her choice and thrown open her closet and all her skeletons were staring at her with their unseeing eyes, mocking her. Okay, so ewww with the imagery, but the truth behind it was the really terrifying part.
But was it worth all this shit? Couldn't she just...walk away from this, skip town, never have to deal with Buffy again?
"That's not an option and you know it, Faith. You can't run, not from this."
Again she cursed herself for speaking aloud.
"Why not?" she asked, her voice sounding so pitiful she wanted to smack herself. Oh yeah, that was just what she needed, some healthy self-mutilation to complete the mess she'd become.
"Because it's going to haunt you for the rest of your life," Angel told her. "You know it will." He moved over, placing a hesitant arm around her shoulders.
"But how do I even begin to TRY and fix this?"
Angel gave her a brief squeeze. "Say you're sorry."
Angrily, she smeared the tear that fell across her cheek and pulled away from him, refusing to let herself think about how safe she felt cuddled next to him, how...secure. "It's not that simple. It CAN'T be that simple." The Slayer leapt up, resuming her frantic pacing again.
"No," Angel agreed. "It's not that simple. But it's a start."
"Do I have to actually *start* it? Can't I just sneak a peek at the ending and claim I read the whole book?" Faith asked, crossing her arms over her chest protectively. Suddenly she was painfully aware of how open she was, how the shields she'd built around herself had crumbled under her rage and anger and fear, leaving her bare, large wounds gaping for all to see. And again with the gross imagery...she really had to stop that.
"I think you know the answer to that," he said, leaning forward to brace his elbows on his knees. Threading his fingers together, Angel propped his chin up on his joined hands and regarded her calmly.
"How do I even begin apologizing to her? 'Sorry I killed that guy, sorry I tried to steal your vampire' -- I really am sorry about that, Angel. It wasn't anything personal -- well, okay, so it was, but not *really* personal since I wasn't after you, you know?" He nodded. "Do I say I'm sorry for trying to kill her? For sleeping with her boyfriend? For wanting to kill her kid?"
Angel's face darkened at that. "You wanted to KILL our children?"
"Well, yeah, I mean that's what rage does to you. Makes you want to hurt things and -- did you say *our* children?" she asked, freezing in mid-step as her mind caught up with their conversation.
Angel looked sheepish, which was pretty comical in and of itself. And then when he started stuttering Faith had to try hard not to laugh at the ridiculousness of it. "I...um...that is to say, well, uh, you see, Buffy and I..."
Her eyes widened at that. "Okay, that whole soul-switcheroo obviously screwed with my hearing, 'cause I swear you just said that kid is yours, which is pretty much impossible since you're shooting blanks -- what?" she asked, stopping at his look. "I boned up on my vamp knowledge -- although not from experience, because eww." She tilted her head, regarding him for a moment. "You sure this isn't just because you're jealous that Riley got your chick pregnant?"
"They're mine, Faith," Angel said. "Believe me, I don't think I really understand it either."
She accepted it for the moment. No need to tell her only ally that he was delusional just yet. "Was it some cosmic fuck up? Because those Powers have been known to screw things up royally on more than one occasion. They're really not very good at their job," she muttered.
"You let me worry about the Powers, you've got bigger things to face."
She sighed, wrapping her arms tighter around her body. "Yeah, like Buffy and her band of merry Slayerettes. I don't know, Angel, I still don't think it's going to work."
Angel stood and moved over to her. "Faith, I didn't say it would happen overnight. You're going to have to give it time."
"I'm a Slayer, buddy. Time isn't something we're known to have a lot of," she reminded him, refusing to think about just how true her words were. Not much time. She shivered. No, not much at all.
"Then make the most out of what you have," he encouraged. Faith had half a mind to tell him that his Self-Help act was getting old *real* fast...but the louder half was telling her to shut up and listen to all the wisdom disguised among the bullshit that he was spouting.
"She's not going to want to try either. You know her better than anyone, you know she's not going to go for this," Faith argued, suddenly sounding as insecure as she felt.
The vampire sighed. "Faith, it's *not* going to be easy. I don't think I can say that enough for you to understand--"
"Angel, you've beaten that point to death and then kicked it a few more times just for good measure," Faith said. "I get it."
"But it's possible," he went on. "I know, because I've done it."
Faith snorted. "Oh please. Like there was ever a time when your precious Buffy didn't trust you with her *life*. Homicidal murderer phase aside and all."
"There was," Angel said simply. Off her incredulous look, he delved a bit deeper. "I had to earn her trust after she found out I was a vampire. Even though she knew I had a soul, she wasn't exactly forthcoming with the benefit of the doubt."
"And yet here you are acting like it'll be a walk in the park for me."
"I'm not saying it won't be hard -- or harder -- for you. I'm just saying that it can be done. You have to show them, all of them, that you're willing to change, that you WANT to change. You have to gain back their trust, and that's something they aren't just going to offer you right up front. Earn back your spot with them, just like I did when I...when I came back from hell."
Faith watched as Angel swallowed, obviously fighting down the bitter memories of cold shoulders and harsh words that had accompanied his return. She knew all about that, she'd been one of the first to jump on the Don't Trust Angel bandwagon thanks to Xander and his childish jealousy. That kid just didn't learn.
Oh and there was that burning feeling at the pit of her stomach again...was it guilt? She snorted softly at the absurdity of it -- what did she have to be guilty for where Xander was concerned? Sure, she'd seduced him, fucked him in Buffy's body, and ruined his relationship with Anita or whatever his girlfriend's name was, but...okay, so that was probably it. Apologizing for that would come *much* later, though. When she didn't still have the urge to laugh in his face at his pettiness.
"Why do I have the feeling that what you went through is going to be a walk in the park compared to what I'm going to have to do?" she asked, averting her gaze, forcing herself back on track. "Buffy loved you first."
"But love without trust is a very fragile thing."
She shot him an annoyed look. "Can you drop the lovelorn poetic crap? You got the girl, stop brooding about it already."
Angel smiled. "Faith, you can do this. I know you can. Making things right is what you want to do, and you know you're just as -- if not more -- stubborn as Buffy is. If you're serious about this, and you prove to them you are, you'll be able to get through it."
Serious. She had to be serious. She had to want this. Want this with everything in her, girl and Slayer and woman combined, because she would need all three to keep her going, to make sure she followed through with it. If she chose this road, this path, she'd have to see it through, have to emerge from it battle-scarred and wary, but cleansed. More than anything, she just wanted to be clean, to know friendship and acceptance again.
But could she do it? More importantly, did she WANT to do it?
And there was the doubt, burning cold in the pit of her stomach. Its icy tendrils slithered through her veins, chilling her, reminding her of the mindlessness of no regrets, the freedom of a buried, forgotten conscious. No remorse. No conscience. No living by society's rules. She couldn't want the pain of forgiveness, not when the harsh power of indifference was so fresh, so potent in her blood. With regret came throbbing grief, bitter tears, utter shame. Cold was numbing, a pleasing anesthetic that froze the heart and the mind and the soul so that there was no grief, no tears, no shame. It was an easy way to live.
Faith never did anything the easy way.
With that mindset, she did something she knew she was going to regret. There was no other way, though, and with that as her mantra -- since when did she need a mantra to do something? What the fuck was happening to her? -- Faith turned her head aside, as though she was hiding something from Angel. Watching his feet shuffle forward, Faith curled her hand into a fist and channeled all her raging emotions into her fist. And then she struck.
She was pretty shocked to see Angel fall. Man, she must've put a whole lot of that pent-up shit into the punch. Swallowing the guilt that rose as swiftly as her hand had, she hopped over his body, knowing he'd be conscious again any second, and dashed up the stairs. The lock was no match for her Slayer strength and with a simple flick of her wrist it gave way.
Angel's heavy footfalls were on the stairs by the time she reached the door leading from what she assumed was his office into the outer reception room, and as he skittered up the last step and nearly ran into the wall in his haste, the door slammed shut and Faith was already halfway down the hallway.
Cursing loudly, he ran back downstairs, stopping only to grab his cellphone and duster before making his way to the sewer entrance, already dialing the hospital as he lifted the heavy door. He knew what she was going to do, and he had to stop her. The sunlight streaming through the windows upstairs were all that had kept him from following her directly.
Buffy was not going to be happy about this.
*~*
Finding Buffy's room wasn't very hard. The cute receptionist had been more than happy to point Buffy's "step sister" in the right direction (after a little flirting and an eyeful of cleavage -- interns were so easy), and within minutes she was standing outside the room, suddenly feeling the millions of butterflies (hopefully they were the metaphorical butterflies and not some demon spawn she'd gotten courtesy of the Hellmouth) that fluttered around in her stomach and wondering what had possessed her to do this. Did she really think she could just waltz in there and have a normal conversation with Buffy? Maybe there was a psych ward she could check herself into instead.
She rolled her eyes at herself. Jesus, she was acting like she hadn't faced hundreds of vampires before, or gotten pretty damn cozy with evil, or done things (and men) a hell of a lot scarier than facing the blonde Slayer. There was nothing to be worried about.
Besides, Buffy was probably hooked up to a hell of a lot of machines, in the time it took her to get free of those damn IVs Faith could be a *very* safe distance away.
Being in a hospital so soon after she'd broken out of one was sorta weird, too, and was making her skin do some crawling thing that wasn't a whole lot of fun. The air smelled the same (sickness, pain, death), the walls were that glaring white color that made everyone, staff and patients alike, look ghostly pale, and the steady beeps and hums that streamed through the open doorways were a constant reminder of the soundtrack she'd put up with for eight months.
And then she was in front of Buffy's room, and before she could even think about what the fuck she was going to do and say, Faith walked inside.
Buffy was obviously expecting her, and greeted her with one of those looks that were usually reserved for the demons she was pummeling -- although Faith was sure that at that moment she was below those demons, at least in Buffy's eyes. And yeah, she could understand that, but she still had to keep herself from glaring right back. Unfortunately (unfortunate for Faith, anyway) wasn't hooked up to any machines other than an IV drip in her hand. Damn. There went her safety net.
Hey, she wasn't about to turn into some meek little mouse just because she was trying to turn over a new leaf. The kitten wasn't getting de-clawed, she'd just gotten...well, sort of neutered. Except not literally.
"You know, I didn't believe Angel when he called. I figured you'd be at the Mexican border by now," Buffy snapped, her hazel eyes seething with anger.
Faith shrugged, making herself feel the sting of Buffy's words. It didn't count as self-flagellation if someone else was doing it, right? "Hitch-hiking isn't as much fun as everyone makes it out to be."
"Sure it is," Buffy said. "Getting into a car with complete stranger, probably having to exchange some bodily fluids as payment. I figured it'd be right up your alley."
"Nah," the brunette said, closing the door behind her as she stepped fully into the room. Buffy tracked her, tense and obviously ready to spring into action if need be. "Usually only the really sleazy pick you up, and who wants to screw some dirtbag with a rusty pick-up for a ride?"
"But you and sleaze are like bosom buds, Faith," Buffy snapped. Faith stared at her, wondering if the soul switch had neglected to return the blonde's to its rightful place. The Buffy she knew, no matter how angry she was, would never take such cheap shots. Of course, that was before she'd stolen her body and slept with both her best friend and her boyfriend.
Faith remained silent, trying not to stoop down to Buffy's level (stoop down to BUFFY'S level?! ...Buffy was stooping down to hers). She deserved this, this anger, this bitterness. All the shit she'd pulled, everything she'd thought she'd get away with, was coming back now -- she'd broken the so-called gate that Buffy had kept locked tight, and now all her rage was obviously flowing out in full force. And the worst part was that she had to take it all if she wanted to prove that she was sorry. Which she was. Mostly.
But how was she going to tell Buffy that? Faith had never really had a way with words, she just took what she wanted and figured the act itself would get the message across. But she couldn't do that anymore, the act had been done and now she had to attempt to clean it all up. Because she had to. Because she wanted to. Because if she didn't, she'd never stop running. And running was bad. Running would eventually get her dead, and running would end up being the reason why she'd want to get dead.
Buffy mistook her silence. "Angel may think you're worthy of forgiveness, and there was a time when I did have too. But you and I both know you're not. I will *not* sit by and watch you bring him down, Faith. He's too good to help you."
Ahh, something to work with. "It's always about that with you, isn't it?" Faith asked quietly, leaning back against the wall next to the door, not willing to get any closer. She was sure the feeling was mutual. "Who's good enough, who's not. When it comes to all that redemption shit you only see black and white."
"I only see black and white because that's all there *is* to see. Either someone deserves it, or they don't. You don't," Buffy said flatly.
Faith felt anger blossom deep within her gut. She couldn't do this if Buffy wasn't willing to cooperate. It took two people for an apology to work, one to give and the other to receive, and so far the other Slayer wasn't being all that receptive. But that was half the battle, right? Angel said that convincing her would be the hard part, and it seemed that he definitely knew what he was talking about. The whole situation was looking more and more impossible with each passing moment.
"I know you don't see the point in giving me a chance to make things right," Faith said.
"Faith, this is one thing you *can't* make right."
"That's because you're not giving me a chance to!" Faith exploded. "Jesus, Buffy, do you know what it cost me just to come here? I have no idea what the fuck I'm supposed to say, what I'm supposed to do. I'm sorta new to this whole apology thing, a little slack would be nice."
"You want slack?" Buffy spat, glaring at her with open hostility. "I gave you slack. I gave you so much slack that you *hanged* yourself with it! So don't you stand there and try to tell me what I should and should not give you, because I'm DONE giving *anything* to you. You're NOTHING to me. NOTHING!"
Faith didn't back down. "If I'm nothing, why're you getting so upset? At least I'm willing to face this, little Miss Denial-Isn't-Just-A-River-In-Egypt-It's-Also-A-Valid-Lifestyle."
"You're *facing* this?" Buffy demanded, clenching fistfuls of rumpled hospital sheets in her hands to keep from ripping the various machines out of her arms and knocking Faith into the next hemisphere. "You don't know HOW to face anything! You always run away and leave everyone to clean up your mess, and this isn't going to be any different!"
"And now that I'm trying to actually take control and fix things on my own, you're just, what, too scared to give it a chance?"
"Hardly," Buffy sneered. "I've been hurt one too many times by you, Faith. I'm not going there again because you're not worth it."
Faith laughed humorlessly, suddenly finding herself overcome by some of the weird wisdom shit that Angel was spouting before. "No one ever gets hurt too much, B," she said quietly. "We like to think we've learned, that we know better, but we really never do. Humans need hope to survive, hope that things will get better, that people will change. You're not too hurt. If you really want something, you can't ever get hurt enough."
"Check out Faith, expert on human behavior," Buffy snapped haughtily, shifting on her tiny hospital bed, never taking her eyes off Faith. The other Slayer had gone way too far a long time ago, and the body-switching had been the last straw. Buffy was a very tolerant person -- and a very forgiving one at that -- but when she was double-crossed, lied to, and her family, friends, and boyfriend were put in danger...not to mention the fact that Angel had nearly been killed by Faith...she wasn't really ready to just become best buds again. Or ever.
"You know it's true," Faith pressed desperately, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. "You know that's not the reason why. You don't want to bother because if -- *when* I figure out all this shit and move on with life like some reformed junkie, you'll be proven wrong. And we all know that the great Buffy Summers is never wrong."
The mocking note in Buffy's laughter wasn't lost on Faith. "You're right, Faith, I can't be *bothered* to help. I'll be proven right because you CAN'T change. You don't WANT to change."
"Why the FUCK do you think I came here? To trade insults like we're the fucking Odd Couple? I'm *trying* here, for once in my life I'm TRYING to fix this big mess I've made, and all you can do is sit there and tell me how fucking inadequate I am! You think I'm nothing but some fucked up chick from the wrong side of Boston who came striding into town LOOKING to fuck up your life. That's all you've ever thought."
"That's all you've ever BEEN!" Buffy shouted. Her face was dark with anger, her gut burned with hatred. She'd never felt anything so vicious tearing through her system, save for the brief, biting encounters she'd had with Angelus. It was new, and yet not, because as the Slayer she held this sort of contempt for every evil creature on the face of the Earth: but never had she felt it so acutely, so completely.
And she should have been worried that the darkness within her would cause her to strike out, to do something she would regret later (not because she would be doing it to Faith, but because she would be stooping to her level), but somehow, those thoughts were lost in the bitterness and the fury. She was better than Faith. Better.
The tension in the room was sliced briefly as Angel burst into the room, looking as though he expected a serious chick fight to be in progress. He took quick stock of the situation: Faith against the wall, looking incredibly young in the harsh hospital light; Buffy on the bed, her face red, chest heaving, anger turning her eyes a dark green. Glancing back and forth between the two, he felt twin urges to both go over and pull Faith into the hug she was practically begging him for and make sure Buffy was all right, that she wasn't stressing herself out too much.
Torn between the two, he did nothing.
"Oh look, Angel's come to save poor wittle Faithy Waithy from Buffy the big bully," Buffy said sarcastically, turning her wrath on him.
Angel cast one more glance at Faith before moving over to Buffy's bedside. The brunette watched them for a moment before dropping her eyes, fixing her gaze on her combat boots. "Is everything okay?" he asked softly, sinking down into the mattress cautiously.
"Does everything LOOK okay?" she hissed.
"Doesn't look like any blood's been shed," he joked.
Buffy favored him with a glare. "Now is *not* the time to flex your shiny new sense of humor."
Angel reached down, taking her tiny hand in his and giving it a gentle squeeze. Immediately he felt the chill of her skin and sandwiched her hand between both of his, rubbing it vigorously in an attempt to create enough friction to warm her back up. "Are you cold? Do you need me to go get a nurse or another blanket or something?"
"What I *need* is for you to remove *her* from my sight," Buffy said, jerking her head over in Faith's direction. "I think I'm going to be sick, and no, it has nothing to do with being pregnant and *everything* to do with that slut standing over there."
"Buffy, please, just calm down," Angel pleaded. He kept one of his hands interlaced with hers -- although he was well aware that she wasn't gripping him back, her fingers were tangled loosely around his, kept there by his grasp -- as the other moved up to brush against her cheek. Stubbornly, she refused to meet his gaze. "Let me handle this. I know how to help her."
"We've had this conversation before, Angel, and it's not going to go any better this time than it did then," she said firmly, evading his eyes. "She's FUCKING with you and I won't let her hurt you. I *can't* let her hurt you...not again."
"I appreciate your concern," he said with a light chuckle, hoping to lighten the oppression in the room as he rubbed the pad of his thumb in small circles on her palm. "But I'm a big boy, I can take care of myself."
"This isn't a joke, Angel!" Buffy cried, pulling away from him angrily. "She's not some lost puppy that you found on the street who needs a home, she's dangerous! To you, to me, to our friends. To society, even! Stop pretending this is some after-school special already!"
Faith took a hesitant step towards the bed, freezing as Buffy nailed her with a cold look. "Buffy, I can't do all the work here. I can't do this by myself. I...I need you..." Faith dropped her gaze back down to the floor, her shoulders dipping forward in defeat. "Both of you."
"You're all you've got now, Faith," Buffy said, her eyes snapping sparks. "I'm *not* helping you do anything. I'm sick of giving and giving and GIVING while you just sit there and take it all and want more. You want to do this, Faith, you do it on your own. No one wants to waste their time with you."
"I do." His admission was quiet, and yet firm. He was serious. And Buffy was pissed.
"Angel, I know you want to turn her into your latest pet project, but you don't know that she won't turn right around and stab you in the back, and I will NOT just stand by and let her do that to you again!"
"Buffy, the first step in helping her is trusting her," Angel said, casting a glance at Faith out of the corner of his eye. Buffy noticed his flickering gaze and frowned. "She says she wants to change, and I believe that. I have to."
Buffy pulled away from him angrily, wishing she wasn't hooked up to the various machines that monitored her vitals so that she could do *something* besides sit on the damn bed. "You don't *have* to do anything. You don't owe her anything but a beat down. She tried to KILL you, Angel! You might be willing to forget all about that, but I sure as *hell* am NOT!" she cried, purposely reaching up to finger the scar on her neck. His gaze tracked her movement, a dark look passing over his features for a moment.
"I'm not asking you to forget anything, Buffy," he assured her, reaching out to take her hand again. She yanked it away from him, and his dropped down onto the mattress, dejected. The set of her jaw, the furrow of her brow, the thin line her mouth made all reminded him of a spoiled brat who wasn't getting her way, and he felt the first stirrings of anger towards her.
"I wouldn't want you to forget," Faith added quietly, twisting her hands behind her back. The last thing she needed was Buffy accusing her of turning Angel against her...something that looked like it was happening rapidly. The vampire did NOT look happy.
"Good, because I can assure you that that WON'T be happening anytime soon," Buffy snapped. Angel watched helplessly as Faith slumped forward more, trying to hide the hurt that ripped through her.
Suddenly, he knew what to say. "Remember our conversation before, Buffy? Before they arrived, before you switched back, I told you that one of the reasons I want to help Faith is because if she doesn't deserve forgiveness, why should I?"
Buffy's face darkened. "We already discussed this, Angel," she hissed, glaring openly at Faith again. The other girl had gotten over her temporary guilt and was gazing back at Buffy coolly, not backing down again. "*You* are totally different from *her*."
"How? I killed thousands of people. I stalked them, tortured them, maimed them, and *then* when they begged for death, I gave it to them," he said, his voice low and somewhat strained. "Faith only killed one person, and it was an accident on top of that."
"Two people," Faith muttered. "There...there was that guy, the professor..." Oh great, now she was stuttering. This just kept getting better and better.
"First of all, *your* soul had been evicted by a bloodthirsty demon. She had complete control of hers," Buffy spat, folding her arms over her chest. "And then there was that whole thing where she tried to turn you evil, and when that didn't work she tried to kill you, and after I put her into a COMA she came back and stole my BODY. You two are NOTHING alike and you know it."
"No. We *are* and *you* know it."
Faith squirmed, hating that she was the cause of their fight and hating herself for caring at all. "Angel, you don't have to--"
"I do have to, Faith." He gave her a sad half-smile.
Furiously, Buffy hit the mattress with her fist. "You don't have to do anything for her, Angel! Stop defending her! She doesn't deserve your TIME, let alone your forgiveness and understanding."
"Oh, and you're the one who decides who's worthy of redemption and who isn't, right?" Angel snapped, anger clouding his gorgeous face. For a moment Buffy was taken aback by the intensity of his eyes burning hers...she'd rarely seen him that angry, and when she had it had been because someone was threatening or hurting her. Now...now *she* was the cause of it.
For a moment she faltered under his fierce gaze. Maybe he was right. Who was she to say what Faith deserved?
No. She did have the right. Faith had gone too far, had fucked up too much to *not* deserve Buffy's judgement.
"She put me through HELL, Angel. She put the both of us through hell! For months! God, do you even remember what she did to us? You had to drink my BLOOD because of her!" Buffy shouted. His gaze burned the mark -- HIS mark -- on her neck again.
"And then you put her in an eight month coma," he reminded her.
"Someone had to!"
Angel stared her down. "And now someone has to help her."
Buffy ducked her head for a moment as she curled her legs up underneath her, allowing her to be eye to eye with Angel. Their height difference was making it easier for him to talk down to her, both literally and figuratively, and she wasn't about to give him even that much anymore.
"You know, they've got a lot of helpful someone's in that place we all call *jail*. I'm sure she'd fit right in, I mean, she's already eligible for the traitorous murders club."
"That was way harsh, B," Faith muttered, the old nickname slipping out unconsciously.
"Yeah, well, deal with my way harshness," she snapped, wishing again that she wasn't strapped down to the stupid bed and hadn't been forced to put on the ridiculous hospital gown she was currently sporting that pretty much prevented her from going anywhere. "Just give it up, Faith, the whole martyr look just doesn't become you."
"Buffy, will you stop acting like some spoiled brat and *try* to be cooperative? Faith needs our HELP now, not our grudges!" Angel bellowed.
Buffy drew in a sharp breath, very nearly seeing red at his comment. She wasn't acting like a spoiled brat, she was acting like someone who'd been fucked over one too many times, someone who wasn't about to forget the past on the shaky grounds of the person who'd hurt her saying she wanted to change. SHE was being the smart one at the moment, and he was too blinded by his desire to help to even realize what kind of danger he was putting himself in.
Later, Buffy wouldn't be able to recall the span of moments that happened next. The first thing she was aware of was the sound of flesh hitting flesh and a sharp stinging sensation in her hand. Angel was glaring openly at her as he reached up to rub his reddening cheek.
"How DARE you!" she hissed, seething with anger. "I have every reason in the world not to want to jump onto the Faith bandwagon, so don't sit there and tell me what I should and should not be doing for her! I'm SICK of you taking HER side in this! *Especially* when you won't even TRY to see where I'm coming from, when it should be CRYSTAL CLEAR *why* I don't want to bother with her."
"Buffy, I--"
"Shut up!" the Slayer screeched. Faith crossed her arms over her chest, rapidly getting fed up with the bitch's attitude. "I am so SICK of not having *my* feelings, *my* needs talked about because you're on your saving-someone's-soul kick! God, Angel, if this is the way it's going to be, I'm canceling my subscription to this relationship. I don't want you near me or MY children!"
And then there was silence. For a moment, Angel considered her words, allowing himself to feel the sharp pain that shot through him, let it spread through his veins like a wildfire, doing nothing to rein it in. And oh, it burned, like holy water against his flesh, against sensitive tissue and bulging muscles, against his heart. Things between them were still shaky at best, and were now threatening to crumble at his feet in an instant over the way to best handle a girl who'd strayed from her path and was trying desperately to right herself. Faith would make it through this, landing solidly on her feet no doubt.
He wasn't sure if he could say the same for his relationship with Buffy.
She was upset, she was hormonally imbalanced, and she'd had a bad week. Her body had been stolen, her soul violated, it was only natural that she wouldn't be able to see the gray that lay between the black and white of her narrow vision. He understood all that, and his heart ached for the pain she had endured, for the pain they'd endured together. Not only had she worried about what Faith was doing to her body, but she also had to process the frightening knowledge that she was pregnant with Angel's children because of a day that had never actually happened. Her nerves were raw, her heart sick after the emotional roller coaster she'd been on.
Did she really mean it? Would she -- could she -- let something like this come between them permanently? Buffy was one of a rare breed that loved with a fierce loyalty, giving everything in her freely for trust and love in return. She lived by her heart, by her instincts, and that was what made her such a good Slayer...but she also had a stubbornness rooted in her soul, and it was clashing violently with his. The issue itself was incredibly touchy, and together with the raw emotions of the past few days and a past that was rearing its ugly head, Angel suddenly didn't know what to do.
Part of him wanted so badly to take her into his arms, to reassure her that he did understand where she was coming from, totally and completely, to do everything he could to keep her with him, to keep the tiny children growing in her womb that were pieces of both of them safe. And under normal circumstances he'd be willing to cut her a little bit -- okay, a LOT -- of slack because of all she'd been through (contrary to her accusations, he remembered everything Faith had done to them in excruciating detail, the attempt to take his soul, the poison, slicing through Buffy's skin and greedily swallowing her whole)...but these were not normal circumstances. Faith's future hung in the balance, and while he loved Buffy with everything in him, he couldn't walk away from her. It was his mission, his purpose. Faith trusted him, he was all she had, and he would not let her down.
He didn't want to lose Buffy. Not again. Not now, not in five seconds or five minutes or five years. Not ever. How could he choose between his duty and his love?
Simple. He shouldn't have to choose.
Angel met Buffy's stormy eyes passively. "If you're going to be this narrow-minded, I don't want to be." And then the ball was in Buffy's court as she stared at him, realization dawning quickly on her face and horror creeping into her eyes.
"Buffy." At Faith's voice, she looked up coldly, crossing her arms over her chest and trying not to think about how much Angel's words hurt, how much she hated fighting with him over someone as unimportant as Faith, how things had rapidly spiraled out of control, how nothing would be the same again once they left this cold hospital room. She bit her lip hard enough to bruise, hoping it would keep the tears in check.
"You're still talking?" she choked out, her throat thick with unshed tears. "Haven't you done enough?"
No. She hadn't done enough. Angel was putting everything on the line for her -- he was sticking up for her, to the LOVE of his LIFE. Faith's eyes moved as though she was watching a tennis match, hearing every jab, feeling every angry word. He was doing it for her. He was risking everything for her. And Buffy needed to understand just how important that was.
"I'm sorry. I know you don't want to hear that, but I need to say it, so sit there and shut the fuck up for once," Faith said. Her tone didn't leave much room for Buffy to argue, and she didn't even give her a chance before plunging on. "I screwed up. I fucked up royally, and I'm sorry for it. For all of it, for killing those guys and trying to steal Angel's soul and trying to kill Willow and Angel and just EVERYTHING. You may not believe me, but I have to LIVE with what I did every day for the rest of my fucking *life*."
"It gets easier," Angel put in.
"Yeah, it might get easier, but right now it's pretty fucking hard. I did a lot of shit to you, Buffy, and I'm sorry. I know you think I'm just playing you, and honestly I don't blame you. I wouldn't be very forthcoming with any kind of benefit of the doubt either." Faith paused, swallowing back the lump in her throat and praying to the Powers that she wouldn't break down in front of the other girl. That would be showing too much weakness. "I'm not proud of what I've done. Well, honestly, I'm not *that* proud of what I've done. But regardless of any of that, I know that I can't even begin to make any of it up to you."
"No, you can't," Buffy snapped. Angel's head shot up and with a hard look he silenced her long enough to allow Faith to go on.
"You know what? Screw this," she snorted, folding her arms over her chest. "I thought that *maybe* you'd be the bigger person here, but since you're acting like an overgrown three year-old I have to do it. I came here to try and show you that I *want* to do this, try and make up for what I've done. But I don't want to do it for YOU. I want to do it for me. And now I know what I have to do." She looked at Angel quietly.
He held her gaze for a moment, understanding dawning in his eyes before he gave her a short nod. "Let's go do it, then." He moved over to join her, the two of them sharing another look before he turned back to Buffy. "I love you," he said simply.
Buffy sat in speechless silence, watching the two of them walk out of her room.
All she saw was Angel walking out of her life.
Again.
TBC…
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