Chapter Twenty-Three.
The desperate question that fell from Faith’s lips, didn’t only scratch the air as it voiced the pain of her every predicament; it also scratched and scraped at a place deep inside of Buffy - as if in that moment she could feel exactly how Faith felt. Prickling her skin. Raising the hairs on the back of her neck. Grabbing onto the anguish and letting it guide her slowly forward… just one step, two steps… trying to return the query with the same frank honesty that Faith had offered. Hoping to utilise the four years of wasted wishing that had somehow always kept her believing that one day she would be here. Both of them. Facing off on the issue that was nothing to do with the demons in the real world, but everything to do with the demons that they had crafted for themselves.
The inner demons. The inner fears. The things that eyes of broken brown were telegraphing to her now. Like a plea. Like a silent shout that begged for Buffy to do that one special thing that she’d been born to do.
Strengthening her resolve. Remembering her vow. Shrugging off her own fears to take another step. Settling her shoulders to show that she was in complete control - she had this.
“You’re not falling anymore Faith; you’re done with the falling.”
“Not what I asked.”
“What - you think that there’s some kind of benchmark? That I can tell you how crappy it all has to get, before you can make it better?”
“The heads up would be nice.”
“Not that easy. You’re the only one that knows how you feel, you’re the one that has to make the decision. I can tell you a thousand times that things have changed, that everything’s different - hell, I could promise you that I’d never let you fall again, that I’d swear to be there to catch you if you did - but I’m not the one you need to listen to Faith. I’m not the one that’s got the answer.”
With every word that Buffy spoke, she tried to gain more ground. Fully aware of the abyss that opened up into nothingness right behind Faith; not willing to gamble on whether or not she would take the jump. Whether she would be seeking to repeat their history as her final act of defiance.
“That the best you’ve got to offer, B? No pep talk from The Slayer to put me back on track? - hold it there… that’s close enough…”
Her feet halted too far away to ever make a difference.
“…Thought you’d be bursting with the answers. Dying to serve up that special brand of Buffy bullshit to pull me back in line.”
“Is that why you wanted to see me?”
“Isn’t that why you’re here? Fuck - you think I don’t know why you followed me tonight? Just itching for me to screw it all up again; ready to ride in and save the day when it all went tits up.”
“You’re wrong.”
“The hell I am.”
Not moving and not needing to. Only having to hold her ground and allow Faith to be the one that travelled the distance. Like baby steps. Tiny treads around the issue, tiny breaths that punctuated her speech with accusatory silences. Like now. Another moment of soaking it up… another inch closer to the ghosts of the past.
“I know your game B, I know what the fuck this is.”
“Really? You care to share?”
“Screw you. Nothing I say means shit to you; never has. All you do is see things the way you want - make your own truth and call the rest of us liars.”
“And what do you do, Faith? Sell out the first time that things don’t go your way - shift sides rather than face the consequences?”
If she hadn’t been expecting it, Buffy may have learnt how to fly there and then. She had always known what flipped and flicked Faith’s switches though, had always known which things were likely to trigger a reaction that called for violence. Pushing now, taunting now , calling out the demons to a place where she could see them. Dodging the fist that was aimed with fury, sidestepping a kick that begged her to find silence.
“What’s up Faith, the truth still hurt?”
Swatting aside every attempt that would add to her bruises until the flurry became futile. Until Faith’s anger realised that actions could achieve so much less than words. Pushed back but not held back - every syllable succinct to the point of hating, each word rushing to trip into the next:
“You know fuck all about me! You think I wanted that? You think I had any option other than what I did?”
“You didn’t even try.”
“I more than tried!! Every single fucked up day, I tried to live like you wanted; be a good girl, be a good slayer. Where the hell did it get me, B? First fucking time I made a mistake, you sold me out. How’s that for a truth that hurts?”
It was the perfect example of a truth that hurt. The memory further away for Buffy, but aching all the same. Not allowing it to touch the sides as she sought to bring everything out to the fore. Hunting down demons. Eyes on her prize.
“So you go to the mayor? That’s your way of dealing?”
“Why not? May have been an evil fucker, but at least he sold it straight. Had pride in his eyes when he called me a killer.”
“That’s something to be proud of?”
Just easing her along. Step by step.
“Beats the alternative. Bet you slapped some high fives when you stuck it in me - same sitch B, just different sides of the line.”
“I never slapped any high fives. I never meant to-”
“Save it. Got the memo from Xander already - poor Buffy. Buffy never meant to hurt you, Buffy was so worried about you… guess what? Don’t mean shit to me. I was there, I was the fuck up, I felt just how much I never meant to you………”
“Go on.”
Silence.
Like maybe the words had tripped too fast. Like maybe they were approaching the things that Buffy had been waiting on and that she knew Faith would want to avoid. Like the plague. “What - no more to say Faith?”
“I didn’t… don’t wanna do this.”
And she could see the boundaries daring to show face again. Brown eyes that had poured with vehemence trying to claim back lost ground… a hand reaching up to swipe through her hair, feet stepping back towards the downside of the roof.
“You should go now, this was a bad idea.”
“You think you’re getting off that easy?”
“Just leave it. You’re twisting shit again… you’re…”
“No, the shit’s twisting you. Say it Faith, you want me to call you a ‘fuck up’ because it’s the safest place you know… what’s the plan? Go at it hard so you have an excuse to jump again?”
“Fuck you. I don’t need no excuse. Was never afraid of dying.”
“Yeah, cos you’re just such a badass. I may have been the one that stuck in the knife, but it wasn’t me that killed you, Faith. You did that yourself, it was always your jump to take.”
Calling out the monsters again. Howling out obscenities over the blackening skyline of LA. As if night time wasn’t darkness enough to sate their desire, as if they needed thundering clouds to make the pain resonate deeper. And they brought about Buffy’s smile - an inappropriate gesture, something that only poured water on all of the oil - but the smile didn’t really care. It was the smile of The Slayer, and The Slayer had glimpsed her prey. Had fixed her sights solidly on the demons that dared face her.
“You fucking gutted me! Wanted to feed me to your god damned boy toy like I was a worthless piece of meat! Blood’s all on your hands B, ain’t no way you’re shifting that stain.”
“That’s crap. You poisoned Angel - you knew what you were doing, what I would have to do.”
“And you loved it, right? Dressed up pretty for a special occasion… bet you and Red spent weeks picking that party outfit. What was it B - decked out in leather with a license to kill?”
“You were looking to do the same. If I remember rightly Faith, you were smiling the whole time…”
Like a memory that smashed fast and hit harder. All about the cutting loose, all about the choices that had been made. Their eyes locking with an intensity even deeper than the one that had held the knife. Not blinking. Not breaking. Nowhere left to run.
“You wanted to kill me.”
“I never wanted to hurt you.”
Thunder allowed to rumble in a distance that crept ever closer. No sudden step behind a wall, no deafening shout to keep the forces of nature at bay. Just silence. No way for Buffy to know what went on behind the eyes that were shadowed by the onset of rain. More clouds gathering. The storm creeping nearer.
“You’re angry Faith, I get that; but you need to figure out what you’re angry about. It isn’t this… this is all just stuff we hid behind, because we were scared of facing the truth.”
“Fuck your truth.”
“Is that what you wanted to fuck in the cemetery?”
The fist deflected under the illuminated sky that flashed bright with lightning; the follow up able to land on the blindside. Catching Buffy unaware - stopping the flow of the words almost before she’d had a chance to register what she’d said.
The smile curving higher as she did.
“Hit a nerve, Faith? Said something I shouldn’t?”
Ready for the full blown attack that she had hoped she would prompt. In all of the weeks since Faith’s return, the only time when Buffy had made contact that felt like it meant anything, was when they were fighting. When Faith’s energy was directed in a place other than the one that kept hold of her defences. When Buffy had her only opportunity to throw hits that had any chance of landing.
Landing now.
A backhand that twisted Faith’s head with the speed. That forced her body around, away from the edge. Pushing her into space, pushing her to let it out:
“Thought you wanted to fight, F - I’m giving you something to fight against. Call me a liar, tell me that you didn’t want me up against that tree, that you haven’t always wanted me…”
“Fuck you!”
“Another come on?”
Her own hands bewitching her eyes as she pushed aside every feeble punch that Faith could still think to throw. Almost effortless. “Try telling me that’s not the reason you flipped and went crazy - all pissed inside cos I couldn’t see the real you - isn’t that the truth, Faith? Isn’t that why we’re still doing this?”
The rain beginning to fall in earnest.
“You don’t know anything! I hate you, I always fucking hated you!”
Seeking shelter. Faith’s vitriol fading as fast as her pain soaked punches. Barely a struggle for Buffy to hold on, to push her back. Further back… not stopping until she met resistance. The wall greeting them hard, the rush of air from Faith’s lungs barely breaking the storm. And it wasn’t over. It was still just beginning.
The hard all about finding a way to meet the soft. The slayer able to quiet the demons, but Buffy the one who would have to make the words that spoke the difference. Her heart sounding in her chest as loud as she had ever heard it - walking the tightrope - blind leading blind. Her hands holding Faith’s wrists high above her head in an attempt to have the brown eyes looking into hers, to make her finally listen to the words that she had matured enough to know.
“Stop fighting me Faith. This won’t stop, until you quit fighting me.”
“Get off me…”
“Just listen, I can help you.”
Returning the struggle to more of the fight. Having to use real force, having to slam Faith hard again, to gain back control.
“Get the fuck off of me!”
“Listen to me! Will you please just fucking listen to me!”
Pushing against her with a roughness that demanded compliance, cursing just to get the attention of the one who she wanted to speak to:
“I get it Faith, I know how much you want to hate me, I know how much easier it would be if you could just keep on calling this hate. This isn’t that though, really it isn’t. You can’t keep kidding yourself, you can’t keep denying why this keeps on happening.”
“Buffy…”
“No. I know what I did now to make you so angry, what made all of this go so far towards crazy; and you’re not going anywhere Faith - not until you hear what I’m saying…”
Holding tight.
“You sold me out.”
“I did. And I stabbed you in the stomach on top of that roof. I let you push me away - I let you make the jump. I tricked you when you tried to take Angel’s soul, and I laughed in your face when I saw what that did to you. I never hated you though. That isn’t what any of this was ever about.”
“No? Called me a killer. Sounded like hate to me.”
“I was stupid. I was scared. I was feeling things that didn’t make sense about someone who could barely be in the same room with me without causing me to lose my mind. My control…”
“And you can’t take losing control, can ya B?”
Letting go. Easing off to hear the words that ranted in return. Not with anger… no more hits being thrown… but real questions. Honest questions. Questions just as valid as the ones that Buffy wanted to ask. And she could quiet for that. She’d been waiting for that.
“You were the one who was pushing. Fuck - had me all sewn up and ready to roll the good way, till your boy got back in town. What was I, B - just someone to keep your dreams wet? A warm body to rub against in sparring, cos Angel couldn’t seal the deal?”
“Honestly? Maybe. I wasn’t the only one there though Faith - you never said anything, you never-”
“What?! Told Buffy Fucking Summers that my intentions weren’t all holy? I could sleep a thousand fucking years and know how that one goes down.”
“So you don’t even try? You don’t think that maybe I was the dense one? That I needed a good whack upside the head with a five by five?”
“Two by four.”
“Not what I meant.”
Finally fighting through the fog to make words in a way that Faith might understand. Stepping out into the rain again and not caring if Faith followed, just needing to tip her head back and feel the forceful flow. Letting it pound against her skin, running fresh through her hair. Soaking her face faster than any of the tears that were threatening to fall.
“I know what I did now Faith… I rejected you. Maybe I didn’t get it all at the time, but I knew enough to know that you felt something for me. That I was turning my back on you. I used the accident in the alleyway to protect myself from what I was feeling… if you were bad, then maybe it would stop, maybe the feeling would go away. You wanna know the truth though?”
And Faith had followed.
Out into the rain herself; exposed to the forces of nature with eyes that shone bright from the storm.
“It never stopped. I moved on, sure - did college, did funerals… my own included - but this feeling, Faith, this feeling has never stopped being there. Even when I denied it, when I denied you, it never went away. You saw my dream, you shared it with me, you know I was waiting for you. Even in heaven, I was still waiting for you.”
Lights flashing. More crashing. Still no words from Faith.
“Do you hear me, do you understand what I’m trying to say to you? This isn’t hate - you can stop beating on me now, stop trying to throw yourself off of roofs that don’t exist anymore. It’s done Faith. It’s over.”
“You finished?”
“Did you hear me?”
“Loud and fucking clear. Don’t know what you want from me though… what the fuck you think that’s gonna do for me. Tell it how ya want B, but it won’t change the facts.”
“What facts are they?”
“That being near you makes me crazy.”
“You don’t think you make me a little crazy too?”
The sky lightening again as if just to prove it. Standing on a roof, in the rain, proclaiming feeling to someone who had tried beating her more times in one night than anyone else previous. Buffy felt crazy. The good side of crazy. Daring to smile again now - not a slayer smile, not about demons - a Buffy smile.
“You always made me crazy, Faith.”
“When you go crazy, no one dies.”
“You did.”
All of the truth. Backwards and forwards.
“Different sitch, B. Said it yourself: I pushed ya to make the cut, I knew what I was doing.”
“So did I. I still do. And I’m tired of all this Faith. Can’t we just stop now? Can we please stop pretending that we don’t know what this is really about?”
Measuring her breaths against the storm that was still growling hungry in the distance. Holding her mouth shut to give Faith the room to find something to say:
“I gotta go.”
Not what she wanted.
“Faith, please…”
“No, you please. Shit, it’s too much, alright? Can’t decide if I should kill ya or-”
“Kiss me?”
“I didn’t… I didn’t mean that. Any of this. I’m doing good, B. Finally settling the stuff that never looked to settle. Gonna take a whole lot of time to make that straight. Can’t just call it over and make it all okay.”
Stepping aside to let Faith pass. Not even sure if any of this would make any kind of difference, if it was the peace that Xander had implored, or if it was just the things that had weighed down heavy upon her own mind. No way of knowing. Faith still the elusive book that she didn’t know how to read. Still speaking a language that she struggled to understand.
Standing still. Soaked through in more ways than the rain could ever look to achieve; saturated in sadness - wet through with tears. And all of them falling. Not a wasted notion - nothing wasted if Faith would only look, and see, and know - and finally believe that all of the hate had left the building. Their hate. Self hate.
“Faith, wait?”
“No more B… I can’t… not anymore. Not now.”
“Just one thing, answer me one thing?”
And what one thing?
Faith poised with hand on door to hear the final flourish. The words that would have to last the distance of an ocean. That would have to make the journey across the four years that had been lost to them forever.
Scared again. Terrified. Too much to ask for love. Still too much of the hurting to get in the way of the happy. Only one thing that Buffy could appeal for, one thing that she felt she could ask:
“Did you hear anything I said, Faith? Did any of it make a difference to you?”
Exhaustion the only thing left holding her up, as Faith stole away the peace that Buffy herself had unknowingly been searching for. Turning to leave without making a sound. Without offering anything. The last hope gone.
The slayer had fought her hardest. Buffy had fought even harder. And the hate may have finally left the building by way of the truth, but in its place stood only emptiness. A desolation as primal as the rain that cried a river of tears in a sorrowful symphony with Buffy.
Hope gone. Faith gone. The pain still burning bright.
The pain lifting the further and further that Faith got away from the feelings that had soaked her up on the roof. Wet through. Clothes sticking to her now as she made her way back down the stairs… not hiding. Not feeling anymore like she needed to hide. A curiosity. Barely able to process the words that Buffy had given to her, yet knowing already, deep down inside, that something sat different.
That she stood different.
Not stiffening her shoulders to beat back the world, just pulling herself up to maybe meet it head on. The voices quiet now. No more speaking now. The silence bringing forth a new voice - a different sound - a tone that confirmed that she had fallen far enough. That she had faced down her demons… she wasn’t so weak anymore.
Hands still wringing the water from her hair as she took the stairs down to the lobby; seeing the roadblock and finding a smile. More curiosity.
“Xander?”
Like a barrier. Stood above the steps and guarding the passage. Surrounded by a solid group of girls that Faith had been told were all slayers.
“Faith, hey. Everything go okay?”
His gaze running over her. Glancing up. Looking around.
“It’s fine. She’s fine. What’s the deal with the girly-fest? Lining up my replacement in case I took the fall?”
“No. More like giving you the time to get past the fall. Angel’s here… he’s been waiting.”
And he was there. His unimpressed form sliding out from the shadows to greet her with eyes that betrayed his impatience; that shone bright with the fury of being set aside so easily.
“Are you okay, Faith?”
All stiff. All pissed. And she wasn’t feeling that.
“Flying high. Ready to roll.” Bypassing all of the gazes that studied her enquiringly - no part of her wanting to meet and to greet and make a bunch of new buddies. “Hope you brought the car, it’s wet as hell out there.”
“I have the car.”
“Then you’re my hero. Been thinking ‘bout stopping by that rib place on the way home and scoring some food… this redemption deal is hungry work.”
Raising his eyebrows with words that she knew would hit home. And she wanted them to. She had told him that she had this, that she could do this, and even if she hadn’t believed it at the time, she was believing it now. Less buzzing in the back of her brain. No snake coiling tight to hiss and dismiss her.
“Should I call ahead to Wes, make sure the gym is empty?”
“Nah, don’t need any more pounding tonight. My plans include eating and sleeping… don’t see how Wes figures in any of that.”
The stairs passed and her step found. In beside Angel, turning just once before she escaped through the doors.
“Xander, you’ll call me tomorrow?”
“Sure thing, Slay Gal.”
His smile enough to say goodbye. His hand raising as if to drive home the point. But…
…just something.
As if her feet hadn’t clarified the situation quite as easily as her brain liked to think. Not moving so freely. Seeing Xander’s gaze switch to questioning as she stood there unmoved. And what? A deep breath… a licking of lips… her teeth holding tight to the spot that had kissed. Tasting the memory. The first acceptance of a feeling that she had been forced to remember:
“You should go check on B… she’s… just… Go check on her, okay?”
Eyes parading the things that words couldn’t form.
And she didn’t need the words when she had something like peace. Not defined yet. Not worked at and wondered at, or set out in stone. But there.
Beneath the rain soaked clothes that clung tight to her body and prompted a shiver, Faith could feel the calm. Not before the storm, but after. The things that could settle when the clouds went away.
