Chapter 7

Hold on
Hold on to yourself
For this is gonna hurt like hell

-- Sarah McLachlan

"Summers residence."

"Hey Giles, it's me." Buffy said, wearily, into the phone. She had held back to call the house as Angel took Faith to get her treated.

"Buffy!" There was some murmuring in the background, then Giles' voice was back. "Where are you? Did you find Angel?"

Buffy sighed, leaning against the wall of the hospital corridor. "Yeah, I got to Angel."

"Buffy. what's wrong?" There was a pause, then "Where are you?"

Reaching a hand to her face, Buffy pressed her fingers against her closed eyes. "It wasn't after Angel." She pressed a little harder, as if punishment for not realising it sooner. "Ammitus was never after Angel." Her voice caught in her throat.

"I don't understand."

Thank you Giles, Buffy thought. Thank you for not seeing it, just like I didn't.

"Angel has accepted his past for what it is. His soul is. clean, I suppose you could say."

"Where are you Buffy?" He asked for a third time.

"At the hospital."

"Are you alright?"

Buffy nodded absently, then only half realised Giles wouldn't have been able to interpret that. "It attacked Faith, Giles."

"Oh.dear.is she alright?"

She blew out a loud breath. "Her arm is cut up and she's got a few other bruises, but she's okay. As for the rest, well." Buffy closed her eyes again, and the picture of Faith standing before her - injured, disoriented - appeared behind her eyelids. Scowling, she shook the image loose with a quick jolt of her head and forcibly replaced it with another - Faith's face the night Buffy had come after her, ready to kill her to save Angel. It strengthened her resolve just a fraction. "I don't know. I don't know when it's going to start, how it's going to start and what I'm supposed to tell her."

"Does she know how. it works?" Giles asked carefully.

Buffy shook her head. "No, I haven't told her any of the details."

"Good. It's important that it stays that way. I'll talk to the others."

It was a difficult see-saw of consequences Buffy had to juggle. The more she moved away from worrying about Faith, the more she moved to worrying about Sunnydale. Whichever way she looked at it the reality was bearing down - the guilt and responsibility driving her into the lino tiles of the hospital floor.

This wasn't one girl's life. This wasn't Faith's life. It wasn't about that. It was about a demon coming to life and destroying half the state.

Really, it was.

"I don't understand." She whispered.

"Buffy?"

"It was just. too easy." Buffy walked slowly down the corridor until she came to a set of visitor's chairs. She slumped down into the closest one, resting her elbows against her knees. "It's all so sudden, as if. this was it's intention. I just." She searched through the last two weeks, trying to come up with some indication that could have pointed her in the correct direction a little earlier. Suddenly, she roused a memory and her eyes widened. "Oh God."

"Buffy?" Giles' voice was low, expectant. Concerned. Confused.

"Oh. God." She repeated, then threw herself back against the chair, balling her free hand into a fist and jabbing it against her forehead. "It was. It was after her all along."

"All. along? But Faith's only been here for one day."

"I can't believe I didn't see it..." She murmured. She let out a snarl of frustration and drove her fist into her thigh. "I can't believe I didn't see it!"

"Buffy-" Giles said shortly. "You need to tell me what is going on and you need to tell me now, or I can't help you."

"Argh! I should have known!" She clenched her teeth together so hard anyone walking past would have thought she had bit into the phone. "That night, when I got close to it, remember?"

"I remember you telling me."

"I never saw it, Giles. I just. was running, and I knew it was behind me. then, it was as if it was inside me. In my head. I could feel it there and there was nothing I could do but keep running." A sob escaped her lips and she covered her mouth in an effort to conceal it and regain control. "I thought I'd been marked too. But when I didn't find a burn I assumed it had just. missed me."

There was a long silence on the phone. Buffy imagined Giles sitting at their desk with his head in his hand.

Then

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because I thought you'd start treating me like I was crazy!" Buffy said, a little too loudly, soon after which lowering her voice at the attention she received from further down the corridor. "I thought you'd think it had got to me like had got to everyone else."

Another long silence. Buffy could feel her heart sink into her boots. Maybe.. maybe if he could give her a chemical strong enough, she could start to clean the ink off the walls. And right after that, he could give her something strong enough to reverse time, so she could save Faith. Maybe even Sunnydale.

"Okay." He said, an underlining forgiveness sneaking up the wires to Buffy's ears. Funnily enough, it was a cold consolation. "Okay, so how do you know this has something to do with Faith?"

"Because the very next day was the first time I had the thought to bring them here."

"You think it was influencing your thoughts?"

"Of course!" She snapped. "Don't you!?" She rose to her feet and stalked back to where she had stood before, her body agitated at where her mind was. "The thing puts nightmares in peoples heads, Giles. It drives them to kill themselves. You don't think it would be able to call up someone else's memory and influence them to act on it?"

There was a sigh on the other end of the phone. "You have a point."

"I thought at the time-" She stared desperately at the ceiling. "I thought at the time it was because I was clearly unable to fight it. I was looking for other solutions. I thought that's why their names sprang to mind. God how could I have been so stupid?"

"You couldn't have known that's what it was after, Buffy." Giles said carefully. "What's done is done, and we'll make the best of it, just as we always do."

Buffy sighed. She would always be thankful for Giles. He was the one person she could tell the truth to - tell him her fears, show him her doubt, and not worry about the gang disintegrating into a disorganised blubbering mess. She turned to face the wall, pressing her fingertips against the cool concrete.

"I know Giles, it's just. this time I can't help wondering if we've met our match, you know?"

"It'll be fine, Buffy." Came the soft, resolute, English-accented assurance that she was looking for. Buffy allowed herself to relax into it for a moment, until the sound of a baby crying brought her back to reality. "We'll have some more for you when you get back."

"We'll be there as soon as we can."

Giles hung up the phone, dropping his head.

"Giles?" Willow ventured gently, "What happened? Is. is Buffy alright?"

Slowly, Giles pulled his glasses from his face and began to polish them again - a habit he seemed to have picked up when he was thinking. Or worried. Or both.

"Ammitus attacked Faith."

There was a collective intake of breath around the room.

"Oh." Willow blinked. "Oh- that's. bad."

"It is bad." Giles repeated in clarification. Willow's tone was so close to being a question even Tara and Dawn shot her a look of astonishment. Willow's eyes cast downwards guiltily. Giles replaced his glasses on his face and sighed. "We think it was after her before she came here."

"But.how would it have known?" Tara asked.

Giles glanced at Anya, who was busying herself doing. something distinctly other than actively listening to him. Like playing solitaire.

"In one of Buffy's encounters with the demon, she said she thought it managed to.. connect with the thoughts in her mind."

"Likely." Anya said, without looking up or stopping what she was doing.

At Dawn's look of panic, Giles smiled reassuringly. "She's fine. She thought she'd been attacked, but showed no other signs of it, so assumed it had. missed her."

"Highly unlikely."

"Anya," Giles drew a short breath in frustration. "If you're going to participate in the conversation, I'd appreciate it if you would play a more active role, or.... not participate at all."

Her eyes flashing with impatience, Anya dropped the deck of cards in her hand and looked up. "You want to talk about participation? Why not ask Buffy why she didn't think it'd be a good idea to tell us about her little encounter! I think that would have been pretty helpful, don't you?"

"She thought we would think she was." He held out his hands. "Crazy."

"Exactly my point!" Anya exclaimed. "And we wouldn't have listened to her when she suggested bringing Scary Spice here, and we wouldn't be sitting here now about to count down the days to death and destruction!"

"Her name's Faith, Anya." Tara said quietly. "And she's in trouble."

"Yes she is." Giles agreed, thankful that at least one other person was able to see reason. "Buffy thinks Ammitus chose Faith specifically."

"You mean." Willow began fearfully. "She's it? She's the total?"

Giles pursed his lips. "I guess time will tell." He said. "Whether or not we lose anyone else."

"Great!" Xander clapped his hands together. Everyone in the room jumped, except Anya, who was back to busying herself with solitaire. "Faith becomes the instrument of evil. The key to destroying the world." He looked around. "Déjà vu, anyone?"

"Xander that's enough!" Giles barked. "I've had enough. We've all had enough."

"I haven't had-"

"Anya, you too."

"What.?" Xander looked imploringly at Willow, who shrugged, kindly.

"You have been a bit. super-Faith-hating." She said. "Which I..I totally get, but. now we have to figure out how to stop the world from ending, y'know?" Her face brightened. "But the second we save the world, you just. feel free to go right back to it!"

Giles pinched the bridge of his nose. "Tara, could you.?" He gestured at Dawn with his head and Tara nodded as soon as she understood. With a quick poke to the younger girl's ribs, she urged her to her feet and grabbed three of the boxes of cold pizza.

"Help me with this, Dawn? We're going to need a lot more space."

With a slight scowl on her face at being targeted for dish duty Dawn grabbed the rest of the leftovers and followed Tara into the kitchen. As soon as Dawn was out of earshot, Giles leaned forward, addressing the remaining three.

"Number one, any moment from now Faith is going to begin suffering something that none of us could possibly imagine. She won't understand it, and she won't be able to hide from it, and on top of that she knows she's in a house full of people who don't trust her, or like her." For his second point, he stared directly at Xander. "Number two, we need to save her, because she came here to help us, despite everything that's happened, and we owe her that. Not only as another human being, but as a friend. A friend of Angel's, who does trust her and does like her." He lowered his voice. "We're all going to have to put aside our prejudice, just as she will."

Xander opened his mouth immediately to retort, but the idea died on his lips as the gravity of Giles' words hit home. Slowly, he closed his mouth again and slouched back in his chair, beaten. Giles too leaned back, immediately returning to the information Willow had gathered about Ammitus' past.

It was, however, Xander who broke the silence first.

"How do we stop it?" He asked. "I mean, it got Faith. It's over."

"Well, not technically over." Anya corrected him. "It's not technically over until Faith gives up her soul."

"You mean, until she kills herself?"

Anya pondered that for a moment, pursed her lips then nodded. "Yep, I'd say so."

Willow shook her head sombrely. "How long do you think. we have?" She looked between Giles and Anya, hoping for a semi-pleasant answer from either.

"A normal person? Three days" Anya said simply. Then she paused, clearly in thought. "A slayer? Maybe five days. Not sure."

Giles nodded. "Right. Anya I need to you tell me as much as you possibly remember or know about Ammitus. Willow, I need to know more about how, exactly it takes hold of a person's soul. We'll just have to find a way of disconnecting Faith from Ammitus, or Ammitus from Faith. Whichever comes first."

"What about. you know, the rest of Sunnydale?" Xander asked, only this time his tone did not hint at anything other than a serious question.

"Thankfully the two are tied together at the moment. we don't have to take two separate paths. If we save Faith, we delay Ammitus. Maybe even annoy it a little." He leaned back. "It's also vital that none of you talk to Faith about what is going to happen. She doesn't know what to expect, and frankly, I think that's best."

"Yeah, I wouldn't want to know that I was a ticking time-bomb, ready go insane then kill myself.." Willow shook her head. "Wow, I'd hate to be her right now."

"So would I." Giles whispered. "So would I."

Chapter 8

AUTHOR'S NOTE: From here on in, I take enormous liberties with Faith's life. Enormous. Huge. I make assumptions, create scenarios, basically put my spin on how I think she grew up. I've tried to keep as true to what I know of the character through the episodes, but if I've stuffed something up, I apologise.

By no means am I saying that this is the be-all and end-all of Faith's life, that I'm right and everyone else is wrong. This one.. just works for this fic. There's a lot of...dark stuff suggested, so pretty much the rest of this I'm calling NC-17 or R.

Thanks

Tiz

Lying awake, watching the sunlight
How the birds would sing
As I count the rings around my eyes
Constantly pushing the world I know aside
I don't even feel the pain
I don't even want to try
I'm a Lonely Girl I'll tell a tale for you...

--Pink

In the hospital, Faith, having waited half an hour to be seen and concerned more than seventy per cent of the other casualties by her distinct lack of attention to the gash on her arm, now sat in on a guernsey in a little curtained-off cubicle in the ward. She stared blankly ahead as a doctor in his mid-twenties began the arduous process of cleaning the blood and debris from the larger wound, and the smaller scratches surrounding it.

The process took a good ten minutes, though to Faith it could have been ten seconds. The first time she gave any sign of non-catatonic life was when he finished, and stepped around to face her.

"I've cleaned the wound out," He said. Faith looked up. "There were a few fragments of rock in it." Pausing, he glanced back at the wound. "How did you say this happened again?"

"Got a little too close to.. An explosion." Faith answered carefully. Somehow, she didn't think telling him what was in her arm was the remnants of someone's gravestone would have gone down especially well.

The doctor nodded. "I'm going to need to put some stitches in. Have you had stitches before?"

Faith snorted. "You're obviously new here." Seeing his confused expression, she raised her hand in a silent apology. It had been years. "Yeah, I've had them."

"Good, so you know what to expect." He pulled his tray around to Faith's left side. "I'll just go and get the anaesthetic-"

"No drugs."

"Ah.This is a fairly painful procedure Faith. The cut is deep, and-"

Faith looked at him sharply. "I know, I've had them before. I know what it feels like. I don't want any anaesthetic."

"O-kay." The doctor blinked, clearly taken aback. She watched him hovering, uncertain, around the tray of surgical equipment. Faith had to cut him some slack. The wound was ugly, and he was young. However, there was something about that picture that gave her a hint of satisfaction. After all, she could write a book titled `How to toss consummate professionals off their perch in 25 words or less'. In fact she was only a second away from suggesting he take the anaesthetic, when he nodded a second time. "Okay. It's important you don't move while I'm doing this, alright?"

Nice recovery.

"I know."

As the needle made its first puncture, and Faith squeezed her eyes shut and grit her teeth against the searing pain, she pulled up the image she had been waiting for.

Buffy. apologising to her. To her.

The fingers of her right hand dug into the mattress under her as the doctor came in for a second pass. At Faith's abrupt intake of breath he stopped, but she shook her head sharply.

"Don't. You Dare. Stop." She hissed.

She had always been the one to make the first move. Always been the one. She held the cards. She made the rules. She dictated the play. Since when was it up to Buffy? Since when did she have that right?

The needle dug in again.

FUCK!

Her cry echoed within the walls of her mind so loudly she wondered if perhaps the doctor could have heard it coming out her ears. What was this? The fucking rehabilitated slayer outreach program? What was she apologising for?

Unable to find purchase on her thoughts, Faith turned her attention to the pain. On each needle pass she let the fire of it flow through her - consume her - take up residence in her head and banish all other feeling from her body.

It made her feel at peace.

Hey, Kid! Get over here

Faith's eyes snapped open. "Huh..?"

"I'm sorry, did you say something?" The doctor asked, not taking his eyes off his work. Faith glanced up at him suspiciously.

"Did you?" The second word trailed off into a wince as he pulled in stitch number ten.

"No I said nothing." He pulled upward again. "Are you sure you don't want-"

"No!" Faith growled and turned away. "How many times do I have to tell you no!"

"Faith, I'm only trying to do my job here." He said gently.

Faith sighed and closed her eyes again. "My Bad. It's just... been a rough day."

Kid! Get the fuck over here!

What?

What, are you deaf?

"What the fuck?" Faith muttered, then turned on the doctor, ready to throttle him. "I thought I told you not to fucking give me-"

But the doctor was gone. With lightening speed her right hand darted to where her stitches should have been, but there was nothing there either. Lifting her arm revealed no marks, no blood, nothing. The skin was unbroken.

"What the fuck is going on?" Faith called out.

Instantly alert she pushed herself off the bed and swung open the curtain around it, raising her arms - ready to attack anyone and everyone that would come her way.

The only problem was, there wasn't anyone coming her way. Or going her way. Or. anyone anywhere, at all.

KID!

Faith blinked. The voice was coming from further down the emergency ward. She squinted down the rows of beds and, sure enough, right down the end was a bed surrounded by curtain, just as hers had been. Narrowing her eyes, Faith began jogging toward it.

Mom?

Faith growled and stepped up a gear. This wasn't fucking funny. This was beyond funny. Someone was going to pay with their balls.

I told you not to fucking call me that! Fucking hell, how many times do I have to tell you!

With a snarl Faith's hand reached for the fabric and tore it away from the rails. The blue material dropped away from her eyes to reveal.

The kitchen at her old house.

"What the fuck?" She hissed again.

Faith spun around, expecting to seen the emergency ward behind her, but found no trace of the hospital.

"But the teachers at school said-"

Faith's head snapped around at the sound of a child's voice.

Her heart stopped.

A woman in her twenties stood, towering over a small, dark-haired child who would have been no older than 6. The woman was holding a bottle of what looked like vodka in one hand, and a crumpled child's drawing in the other. She was unsteady on her feet, waving the picture in the child's face.

"No." Faith raised a hand to her mouth.

Faith!

Out of nowhere, a hand snaked around her waist and pulled her away.

"Hey!" She shouted, as she was pulled out of the cubicle. "HEY!" But the hand wouldn't let go, despite Faith's best efforts to duck out of it. Failing that she began to claw at the arm with both her hands, kicking and writhing in an attempt to break free.

"Get off me!" She hissed, trying to twist around to see who it was while at the same time becoming acutely aware of an increasing ache in her left arm.

"Faith! Hey!" The voice cut across her again.

"GET OFF ME!!" She screamed.

The arm released her. Faith opened her eyes.

And saw Angel.

Faith blinked. It had been a dream, that's all. A nightmare. A fucking horrible, sadistic. hang on. Why was she asleep in the first place?

"You passed out."

Oh.

At that point, Faith noted that she was distinctly horizontal. Lifting her head she peered down at her feet, and saw the doctor standing with his back right up against the curtain, eyeing her carefully. Her head dropped back onto the pillow.

"You okay?"

She turned to Angel. wincing when she saw the scratch marks that cris-crossed his forearms. "Guess I owe you another apology, huh?"

One corner of Angel's mouth turned up in a lop-sided smile and he shook his head. "You'd think I would have learned by now, to wait until you wake on your own."

"Nah," Faith said casually, even as she waged an internal battle with her recollection, trying not to play out the scene she would have witnessed had Angel not woken her up in time. "Just throw a bucket of cold water on my face and step back. That's known to work." She winked. Almost as an afterthought Faith reached up and ran her fingers over her left arm, finding gauze and thicker strapping to hold it in place. Then, her face set in a grimace she sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, nodding at the doctor. "Nice job, doc. Hardly feel a thing."

He stepped forward, cautiously, his eyes darting between Angel and Faith. "I've written a prescription for antibiotics." He held out the piece of paper and Angel took it from him, folding it up in his fingers. "You'll need to get it printed from the front desk."

"Thanks." He said.

The doctor continued. "You'll need to take one twice daily. They're strong, so make sure you have them with food. Once with breakfast, once with dinner. Don't take more than one, and expect to be a little queasy for a couple of days. And-" Nervously, the doctor fumbled in his coat pocket and pulled out a business card. He handed it to Angel as well. "-just. keep them in mind."

Angel looked down at the card, read it, frowned, then handed it back. "That's not necessary." He said.

"Look, a lot of people have raved about it. It has a very successful record. If you could just-"

"I said," Angel repeated, his voice teetering on threatening. "It isn't necessary."

"Right. Well." The doctor flicked both his eyebrows up in silent resignation and pulled the curtain open. "If you change your mind, just look up the hospital. They have it on record."

Angel's voice had returned to its normal, calming tone. He nodded. "Thanks for your help." Then he glanced at Faith, who was already on her feet, tilting her neck from side to side in an effort to alleviate some of the tension in her shoulders. "Buffy's waiting for us."

"Oh. Sure. Buffy. Yeah. Right." Faith muttered.