"They smell good, don't they?"

Faith looks up at her, still in the process of smoothing down the sheet. "What?"

"Clean sheets. Like summer."

"I wouldn't know," Faith replies.

"Right," Buffy says sheepishly and looks down at what she's doing. "I forgot."

Faith waits a beat before replying, "I noticed."

There's more to the dream but that's what Buffy remembers when she wakes up. It's not the blood that sticks with her; she's had more dreams of blood and violence than she cares to remember. It's not the feeling of weird foreboding that won't leave her, either. It's the sorrow in Faith's voice at being forgotten once again.

No matter how much she tries to convince herself that she hasn't forgotten Faith, the sad truth is that life has gone on. She makes time to visit the hospital when she can but between college, maintaining her friendships, her mother, Riley, slaying, and now trying to find the newest and baddest monster on campus, she forgets sometimes. There's only so much Buffy to go around and she's already spreading herself thin as it is.

Still, as she gets out of bed and heads down the hall to the bathrooms to get ready for the day, she makes a promise to herself that she'll get over to see Faith today. Sure she might have to skip her English class to do so, but really, that's pretty much a win-win for her.

The nurses briefly smile at Buffy as she enters the long-term care ward of the hospital. They're understaffed and busy as ever so they're always grateful when family or friends come in to visit the patients. Seeing as that Faith isn't exactly brimming with visitors, they've come to appreciate Buffy's presence, infrequent as it has become. It's one less patient they have to tend to for the small details -- hair brushing, moisturizing, and even applying chapstick.

Buffy carries a small canvas bag with her into Faith's room, her usual accompaniment on visits. She keeps it hidden at the back of her closet so that Willow doesn't pry. Honestly, it's one less thing she wants to discuss and defend, especially seeing as that Willow has never been Faith's number one fan.

That thought makes Buffy stop in her tracks. Had Faith ever had a number one fan while in Sunnydale? If she did, he's definitely gone now, exploded into thousands of well-done snake pieces beneath the rubble of Sunnydale High. Buffy hates the fact that things had gone so awry between them, but there's no changing the past. She can only deal with the consequences now and hope that this stage isn't a forever kind of deal.

They deserve a chance to make things right.

God, would Faith even want to make things right if she could, or would it all just turn into another knock-down-drag-out battle?

Shaking her head, she clears her mind of those thoughts and looks over to Faith, lying motionless in the hospital bed. She's far too thin and pale for Buffy's liking but she supposes there's not much that can be done about that. It's not like she can exactly take her outside for sunlight and pizza. She barely even has time to take herself outside for sunlight and pizza, and dammit, she really misses pizza!

"Hey," she says, mostly to distract herself from the thoughts in her head.

As usual there's no response and Buffy's actually thankful for that. She can only imagine the colorful things Faith would probably say if she could right then.

She walks up to the bed and places the canvas bag on the table beside it, taking note that there are no flowers or cards on it like other patients seem to always have. There's just a hospital phone and a box of Kleenex that has probably been sitting there longer than Faith has. She pushes them to the side and slowly unpacks the bag of its contents, ready to start her usual ritual.

The doctors have told her over and over again that Faith can't hear her but that doesn't stop her from speaking as she gets to work.

"Sorry I haven't been here in a while," she begins casually. "I'd tell you all about the hundred things going wrong in my life but I'm sure you'd tell me to 'suck it up and get over it' if you could." She's quiet for a moment before smiling brightly and adding, "I guess this whole you being unconscious thing really works in my favor then, huh."

Again, there's no reply.

Sighing, Buffy presses the top down on a bottle she found in Faith's apartment and squeezes some lotion into her hands. She rubs them together before gently starting to work the lotion into Faith's exposed skin.

It was strange at first, touching Faith in this way. She felt like it was a violation, or like it was just weird and unnatural for someone to be doing who wasn't family and wasn't exactly a friend. But there was no one else to do it, so when the nurses showed Buffy how it was done, she learned it in earnest. Now it's like second nature to her and she doesn't even think twice as she pushes up the sleeve of the hospital gown to reach her biceps.

Months of inactivity have left Faith's muscles atrophied. Not even being a slayer has stopped that process, though it has limited it considerably. There are physical therapists who are supposed to come in and exercise the patients but, understaffed as they are, Buffy's sure that hasn't happened as often as it should.

Part of her doesn't even recognize the girl before her, quiet and pale and weak. Maybe that's why Buffy's actually able to be around her like this; because it's like she's not even Faith at all.

She makes small talk, mostly to keep her mind busy on something and not totally focused on the frail girl before her.

"I had this dream. We were making a bed together and you weren't even trying to strangle me with the sheets, so I guess that's progress as far as the tale of Buffy and Faith goes," she says with a hint of a smile on her lips.

For a brief second she swears she feels Faith's hand twitch. She freezes, concentrating on the feeling, but when nothing happens she realizes it must be a reaction to her rubbing the lotion thoroughly into the palm of her hand.

"In any case," Buffy continues, switching over to Faith's other hand, "you said something in the dream. You noticed that I'd forgotten about you. And I just want you to know, I haven't. I get so overwhelmed sometimes that it's hard to get here, but I do my best. I'll try not to let it go too long between visits next time, okay?"

There shouldn't be a response. In fact, Buffy's not prepared for one. But when Faith's hand twitches, Buffy nearly jumps out of her skin. She takes a step back from the bed and watches over Faith like a hawk, her keen eyes trying to detect the slightest movement. Several moments pass by before Buffy sees Faith's hand twitch again, this time making her whole arm jump.

Not waiting a moment longer, she runs over to the doorway and peeks out into the hall, hoping to see a nurse or doctor nearby. Luckily, a shift nurse is leaving the room next door and meets Buffy's worried gaze.

"Everything okay, dear?" the woman asks.

"Uh, I think so. I'm not sure. She's moving, or at least I think she is. That's never happened before, so . . ."

The nurse's eyebrows knit together as she heads over to the room and takes a quick glance over Faith. Seemingly unconvinced, she turns to the machine at Faith's side and lifts up the roll of paper feeding out one side of it, studying the marks and squiggles that Buffy has never been able to make sense of. After a moment her eyes widen in surprise.

"She's had a sharp increase in brain activity," she murmurs as she continues to study the printout.

"What does that mean?" Buffy asks, wringing her hands together as she stands there helpless. Her gaze roams over to Faith whose eyelids have begun twitching as well.

"It means her brain is suddenly functioning like it hasn't been in a coma for eight months," the nurse explains, turning to face Buffy. "Her brain is awake. It's her body that isn't. I need to get a doctor to confirm this but . . . my god, I think she's just asleep."

The nurse excuses herself and hustles off down the hall, leaving Buffy standing there alone with a slowly waking Faith. Buffy takes a step toward the bed and stops herself. She has to face a question that is suddenly making her feel sick to her stomach: will Faith actually want her to be there when she wakes up? This whole bonding-while-comatose thing has been good, but it's not like Faith has been an active and willing participant.

Unsure of the correct answer, Buffy does the only thing she can think of: she heads over to the phone and dials a familiar number. Anxiously twisting the cord around her finger as the line rings, she's unable to move her gaze away from Faith's face. She's always hoped this day would come; she's just not well prepared for it to happen right now while so much other stuff is going on in her life.

After several rings, the call finally connects.

"Hello?"

"Giles, it's me."

"Hello, Buffy. Not that I'm not happy to hear from you but, correct me if I'm wrong, shouldn't you be in your English class?"

"You can lecture me on skipping classes later, Giles. I need you now. Can you pick up my mom and meet me at the hospital?"

"Are you all right?" He immediately asks. "What is it?"

There are a million things Buffy can say. A million feelings she can try to convey. Instead, she settles on:

"It's Faith."

Buffy paces across the small room while Giles and her mother sit anxiously beside the bed, watching nurses and doctors come and go. They've confirmed what the first nurse initially believed; Faith is indeed in the process of waking up from her coma. They don't know how or why, but all of her readings are coming back normal. Too normal, in fact. The doctors are completely puzzled.

Buffy knows it's not some kind of medical miracle. For all intents and purposes, Faith should not have survived. Her extraordinary slayer healing skills kept her alive. Unfortunately, for them to do their job the rest of her body had to shut down to conserve energy for the healing process. It's been a grueling eight months, but she's finally healed.

Now all she has to do is wake up.

The doctors warn them again and again that Faith probably won't know them or have any recollection of her 'accident' when she wakes up, but Buffy isn't so sure of that. She's dreading the moment those brown eyes open; fearing what she'll see in them. She's trying not to expect the worst but her mind keeps going there anyway. In fact, she's pretty sure her Mom and Giles are feeling the same way with how warily they're approaching the situation.

"Are you sure this is a good idea, honey?" her mom asks.

"I am," Buffy replies with conviction, even though she's not so sure herself. She's pretty sure her reply didn't convince Joyce either judging by the look she gives her.

It's not like her mom is anti-Faith, but she does know about how bad it got toward the end and she's feeling protective as any parent should. Still, as protective as Joyce is, Buffy wants her there for a reason: she's comforting. She's mom. Faith had actually liked her mother and her mother had been kind to her in return. She needs as many team players as possible right now, and she's one hundred percent certain Willow and Xander would not have made the cut this time around.

Joyce and Giles share a nervous look and Giles clears his throat, bringing Buffy back to the moment at hand.

"Buffy," he begins, "you know you have my full support in this endeavor. If you feel you'd like to help rehabilitate Faith . . ."

"Don't say rehabilitate," Buffy cuts in, meeting his gaze. "That sounds like something terrible and Council-y, and nothing they would do in this situation would be any kind of good. This isn't rehabilitation. It's . . ." she pauses, trying to come up with the right words. Eventually she sighs in frustration and rubs her hands over her face. "She deserves our help, Giles. Even after what I did to . . . after what happened, she still met me in a slayer dream and told me how to win. She did that, on her own. There was nothing in it for her. Faith saved the day."

"I know, dear," he says quietly. "And I understand you feel we have a debt to repay her . . ."

"Yeah, we do," she replies easily. "But that's not why we're doing this. Faith deserves a chance now because, I don't know; maybe she never really got a fair one right from the beginning. I thought I did all I could. Maybe I didn't."

"Heaven knows I didn't," Giles says quietly. His sense of guilt is palpable. Joyce reaches out and touches his arm in a soothing manner, sharing in that guilt.

Buffy knows they feel like they failed as well. Honestly, it was a group failure. What kind of people were they to let an eighteen year old girl live in a fleabag motel on her own, fending completely for herself while they all had everything they needed? It wasn't right, and looking back at it now, Buffy knows how wrong they were. Giles obviously knows that too. There's more than enough guilt to go around. The room reeks of it.

"I'm up to the task, Buffy," he clarifies. "But this shouldn't be something you feel you have to take on. As the active slayer and a college student, you have quite enough on your plate as it is."

Buffy shrugs. "That's the great thing about being a slayer. Just when you think you're full, you can always fit a bit more on your plate. I'm pretty sure Faith had a theory about that once."

There's probably more to discuss. They haven't quite ironed out all the kinks in the plan yet and arrangements still need to be made. It appears, though, that they're out of time. Buffy's gaze moves quickly across the room as she hears a sharp intake of break. A moment later Faith's eyes flicker open and fixate on the ceiling.

Buffy feels like the carpet is being yanked out from under her when Faith's gaze slowly moves directly to Buffy's eyes, an unreadable look upon her face.

"Faith," Buffy breathes out.

That's it. Nothing more. She doesn't know what to say, what to do; she can only concentrate on standing there, waiting for Faith's reaction. While part of her knows Faith is in no physical condition to even get up from the bed on her own, the other part of her is just waiting to get pummeled.

And still, even after all this time and their last-minute planning, there's a tiny part of her that's telling her to run away; that it won't work. That Faith will never come willingly. That their failure was so monumental they can never make things right between them ever again.

She fights the urge to run out of the room with every ounce of restraint she has and focuses her attention on Faith who is still staring at her, unwavering.

Out of the corner of her eye Buffy notices Joyce stand up, her hands nervously clutching at one another.

"Faith, dear," Joyce begins, trying to get Faith's attention.

Buffy is grateful; it's like her mother knows Buffy feels completely pinned under Faith's gaze.

Slowly, Faith's gaze roams off to the side and looks over at Joyce, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

"You're in the hospital," Joyce continues, taking her chance while Faith is focused on her. "Sunnydale General. It's February twenty-second. You've been in a coma for roughly eight months."

Faith's eyes widen in alarm. Her hands involuntarily try to clench and she looks down at them, brows furrowing once again. She holds up her left hand and opens and closes it several times, barely able to make a fist. The IV can't be helping either and she looks at it with scorn. She moves to rip it out but changes her mind at the last moment and drops her head back to the pillow, her muscles obviously needing the break after the brief exertion.

She opens her mouth to speak but her voice is so thick and raspy that Buffy imagines the effort has to be physically painful. As if reading her mind, Joyce grabs the pastel pink plastic pitcher from the table and pours some water into a matching plastic coffee mug. She drops a straw into it and bends it near the top before holding it out just below Faith's mouth. Faith looks wary at first but eventually wraps her lips around the straw, taking a long pull of the liquid. Her eyes close and she exhales softly, continuing to drink. After a moment she brings her right hand up and takes the mostly empty mug in her own hand so that Joyce doesn't have to hold it there any longer.

When the mug is drained, she rests it down at her side and looks up at Joyce, seemingly ignoring or forgetting about Buffy for the moment.

"Eight months?" she asks, her voice still thick but a bit less raspy now.

"Yes," Giles replies, standing up beside Joyce. "We've checked in on you steadily, Buffy more so than anyone else, but the doctors have repeatedly assured us that there was no change in your prognosis. From the very beginning they said it was unlikely you'd ever awaken."

Faith's gaze flickers over to Buffy and, knowing she has to say something, Buffy takes in a shaky breath.

"Until today you'd never shown any responsiveness. As soon as I felt your hand twitch I called a nurse and then I called Giles."

Faith tries to laugh at that but all she manages is a short puff of air out her nose. She sits forward as much as she can, focusing on Buffy.

"Couldn't wait to sic the Council on me?"

Buffy immediately shakes her head, looking to Giles for some support.

"Quite the opposite, actually," he cuts in. "The Council has its own nefarious ways of dealing with slayers who they feel have gone astray. Buffy has made it perfectly clear that she has no intention of letting them have their way with you."

"Why?" Faith croaks out.

"Because you saved us," Buffy answers truthfully, her voice quiet. When Faith meets her gaze, she continues. "Whether you were conscious or not, you still found a way to tell me how to stop the Mayor. Maybe the Council can overlook that but I can't. We can't."

Faith is silent, her face unreadable. If there was some kind of technology to let her read Faith's thoughts, Buffy would pay a million dollars for it. Well, okay. She wouldn't. Who has that kind of money anyway? But she would definitely take it right back after she was done borrowing it!

"We'd like to help you, Faith," Giles explains. "Like you helped us. Of course, we can't do anything unless you're willing. You have every right to get up from that bed and walk away from us. Try to understand, though, that the Mayor is gone but we're right here, and we are determined to do right by you this time around."

"We all are," Joyce agrees.

"We've made mistakes," Buffy adds. "But so did you."

She expects Faith to scowl or frown. Hell, she even expects to be told off, but Faith remains quiet and attentive. At least she's giving them the time of day. That's more than Buffy had expected.

"I'm not saying the past is going to be completely forgotten; not by you, not by us. Some scars are just too deep, and I get that. I do. But maybe, if we all work on this together, we can build something that will help us move on from the bad. We want this to work out, Faith. All you have to do is be willing to try with us."

Faith finally speaks up after several moments of tense silence..

"And I'm just supposed to trust that you guys won't screw me over."

"Yes," Buffy explains. "Because that vice will be plenty versa."

Faith takes a deep breath, shaking her head gently. "You really think this is all gonna work out? One big happy, dysfunctional family?"

Buffy knows she could lie. She could really try to sell the deal. Instead she shrugs and replies. "Won't know unless we try."

Faith waits a few moments before chuckling and smiling in a self-deprecating way. She rests back against the pillow and closes her eyes, her decision seemingly made up.

"Guess it can't get much worse than this."

Surprised at how easily Faith gave in, Buffy looks to Giles who offers her as supportive a smile as he can muster.