Chapter 22

Through black of day, dark of night,  we share this pair of lives
The door cracks open, but there's no sun shining through
Black heart scarring darker still, but there's no sun shining through
No, there's no sun shining through No, there's no sun shining

-- Metallica
Faith's eyes blurred into focus and she raised a weary hand to her forehead. It spoke the volumes she couldn't speak. Gingerly, she tested the operability of her left shoulder. She winced when almost immediately sharp hot pains bolted all the way across her back and
down to her fingers. Twelve hours of healing, even slayer healing, wouldn't have made much improvement anyway.

She felt the air shift behind her and paused for a moment, gritting her teeth together to withhold a vicious swear word. Within a few moments she knew who it was, and lowered the guard a fraction.

"How are you feeling?" Angel asked softly.

She pondered the question for a minute or two, without even indicating she had heard it. How was she feeling… how was she feeling?

"Like someone's thrown a fistful of sand in my eyes, hit me with a piece of two by four and leeched all the blood out through my feet."

"Is that all?"

It took Faith's foggy mind took a few moments to absorb the humour, before she chuckled. "Must be old age." She withdrew her hand and let it fall over the side of the couch. Without moving her head she scanned the room with her eyes, looking in each direction as far as they would go.

Angel smiled. "They're all in bed."

"Ah."

"They'll probably be up soon though. Giles is on his way back with breakfast."

"Oh?" Faith leaned her head all the way back until she could see all of Angel's face – albeit upside down. "Breakfast.." She repeated, stretching her good arm out and bending her knees upward. "Now you're talking."

"I thought that would get your attention."

Angel watched her stiffly sit upright, taking care not to put too much strain on her injured right shoulder. She was still dressed in her dark clothes from the night before, He didn't ask her why she was on the couch rather than still in Buffy's room. He didn't need to
know what happened, or why. He knew enough.

Faith turned her head and caught him watching her. Once upon a time, she would have flown into a defensive rage, demanding to know why his
attention was on her, what he wanted, and who the hell was he to want anything.

Now, softened by time and experience, she simply flashed him an easy grin and waggled her eyebrows.

"You bet."

* * * * *

Buffy awoke with the side of her face throbbing out a dull ache. Carefully she lifted her hand to her cheek and traced the outline of her cheekbone, testing the damage.

*Not too bad…*

She then prodded the area gently.

*Oh yep… ouch*

Given the rest of her body wasn't particularly keen on waking up so soon after going to sleep, she was only able to toss her arm over the edge of the bed and pull at the door to her closet with her fingertips, waiting expectantly for the inside mirror to swing around
as it opened.

"Shit…" She groaned, once the full extent of the situation became apparent. She thought she had got away with it last night – nobody had noticed when she came downstairs after the small altercation with Faith's wayward fist. It had turned out that the bruise just hadn't
had a chance to decorate her face.

Closing her eyes Buffy rolled away, blowing a large, loud breath from her lips and slapping her forehead with her other hand.

How exactly was she going to explain this?

***

"Oh this? Nah it's nothing – Faith got a bit jumpy last night and mistook me for…me."

***

Oh yes, she could see that going down really well. As it was Faith was already hovering close enough to the trigger plate of a poacher's trap – staying in a house surrounded by history of hate and betrayal, now simmering as suspicion and distrust. The whole thing could snap on her in an instant if there was one wrong move, one wrong comment…
or… well… exactly this.

"Buffy? You awake?"

SHIT.

A soft knock startled her and she swiftly pulled the blankets up to her head, closing her eyes and rolling away from the closet. She heard the doorknob rattle as a careful hand opened the door, followed by the sound of bare feet on carpet as someone approached the bed.

"Buffy."

Willow. Damn.

Slowly, Buffy made a show of waking up by stretching her legs out, then opened one eye.

"Hey Will."

Willow fidgeted on her feet. "Sorry to wake you – uh-" She looked at the closet and back again. Buffy could tell something big was bothering her. "-Giles has come back with breakfast…he wants everyone up. The spell's ready. Tara's going to go look for the Accountant."

Buffy's eyes widened and she caught herself almost about to lift her head. "Wow- already? Okay. I'll…be down in a minute." Willow nodded, but made no move to leave the room. Buffy frowned, then her eyes softened. "You worried?"

"Yes!" Willow blurted out, as if she had been waiting for the question from the moment she had entered the room. She stomped her foot, flicked a glare at the ceiling, sighed then dropped onto the edge of the bed. Buffy suppressed the wince as the movement jostled
her head against the pillow. Willow missed it. "Last night-" She continued, staring out the window. "It was a *we*, you know? *We* were going. Now it's just a *her*."

"I'm sure Tara's intention isn't to exclude you-"

"No that's just it!" Willow fixed her eyes on Buffy again, clasping her hands together in her lap. "It *is* to exclude me… totally. Because Tara's had way… *loads* more experience navigating the Ether that I have. She's like…uber-navigator person. Which is fine, you know? I can share…" She trailed off. "It's just that…last night we were going together, but then something came to Tara while she was meditating… and…now it's not okay. Now it has to only be her, which means someone's turned up the danger-meter, and…I can't be there if something happens."

"Hey-" Buffy smiled, reaching out of the blankets and resting her hand on Willow's knee. "You will be there. You'll be here, and I know that will matter." She patted it gently. "If anything happens you'll be the frightening Willow-shaped anchor to make sure she doesn't go anywhere."

One corner of Willow's mouth arched into a smile, and she nodded very slowly. "I'm just worried about her, Buffy." She echoed Buffy's earlier comment, sighing. "This bad is big. It feels like the biggest, you know?"

"I know." Buffy nodded. "But I think the good is bigger."

Willow closed her eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out in one go. "Okay." She said to herself, slapping her own thighs with her hands. "Pull it together time. I'll let you have a shower." She stood up and moved back to the door, but Buffy felt her growing relief hit
a snag when she stopped, turning back around.

"Faith…slept downstairs last night?"

It wasn't really a question.

"Yeah." Buffy murmured. "She felt more comfortable." She added for clarification, steering Willow away from any questions as to why.

"And you?"

Buffy thought about the question, pursed her lips and shrugged. "Yeah." She answered finally. "I felt more comfortable too."

It was a nonsensical conversation o Buffy, but Willow seemed to get from it what she wanted. She nodded, then left the room, closing the door quietly behind her. Buffy released a large, relieved breath at the retreating footsteps down the hallway.

Rolling on to her back, she prodded her cheek again, as if that very action would elicit some kind of answer from the injury itself. Not surprisingly, it didn't answer her.

She was going to have to do something about this.

"Okay Buffy." She said, urging herself out of bed and to her feet. "Shower. Now."

Scooping up a selection of clean clothes from the floor, and her towel from over the closet door, she carefully opened her bedroom door, peered left and right down the hallway, and, with the coast clear made a dash for the bathroom.

The shower held no answers for her either. Not the borderline scalding heat, not the pressure of the water on her face, her neck or her head, not the steam in the room that swirled around her ankles and clouded the mirror – nothing helped.

It was actually in slipping on a small pool of water, left by the last occupant, that gave Buffy her answer. She quickly toweled herself dry and dressed herself, then, taking a deep, preparatory breath, she lined herself up with the bathroom sink, braced her toes
against the side of the spill, and left her fate in the hands of friction.

* * * * *

Hunched over her plate, Faith chewed slowly on the corner of pancake stack she had cut for herself, deep in thought. Nothing felt right. She was bone-tired, but more than that, she felt…drained… like somehow the colour was fading from her being. Not even the pancakes tasted right.

Lifting her eyes she slowly surveyed the room, taking advantage of the fact that the others were eating, and she could do this undetected.

Angel had cornered Giles from the moment he had arrived. They had been locked in the study and hadn't come out since. It had left her sitting on the couch with a crumpled blanket all that stood between her and the wolves. Tara had spoken to her this morning, asked her how she was, asked her what she thought of the house, Sunnydale. Small palliative exchanges of conversation that almost made Faith feel normal.

Funny, the instant she felt normal she felt like something was terribly wrong – like she'd been transplanted into some kind of television show.

The events of last night weighed heavily on her. The memories hit home and they hit very, very hard. Yet even amongst it she knew there was something she was missing – something from the night she hadn't resolved yet. It snuck into the back of her mind and stayed there, silently foreboding but without the detail to back it up.

She wondered when Buffy was coming down.

Suddenly a crash came rattling down the stairs, causing everyone to jump and hold onto their plates – and their contents – for dear life.

"FUCKING OW!!!" Followed soon after.

Faith's instinct immediately prickled. She dropped her plate onto the table in front of her and sprung off the couch, almost to the same timing as Xander and Willow….just a little bit faster.

"Buffy!??" The two shouted in unison as Anya, Dawn and Tara exchanged concerned glances. "You okay?"

They heard the sound of the bathroom door open upstairs. "I'm okay!!" Buffy shouted. "Just slipped." There was a pause, then "Fucking mother of... Ow."

Faith allowed herself to relax a fraction, catching the eye of Xander, then Willow successively. She was surprised at the small, sheepish smile that had spread on their faces.

"No monsters coming out of the plughole today." Xander exclaimed triumphantly, jabbing his fork into the top of his pancakes as if to settle his victory. "Stay tuned for our second installment – Attack of the Soap."

As far as jokes go, it had not been the best, but given recent events it actually went down quite successfully. Previous tension was shattered by soft laughter. Even Faith felt the corner of her mouth turn up in a small smile, as she sank back into the couch to finish
her breakfast.

Tara watched closely, her own smile rising on her lips.

* * * * *

Buffy blinked past the tears in her eyes and leaned on the sink towards the mirror, wiping the steam off it with her sleeve. Her cheek, now twice the size and several shades darker, glared back at her indignantly and shot waves of white-hot pain into her jaw.

Well, she'd certainly done it. She really hoped they bought it. It damn well hurt enough.

Turning away she folded her towel carefully and let it hang over the shower rail. Then she gathered her clothes together and left the bathroom, on her way to breakfast.

Via the kitchen for some goddamn ice.

Xander heard her first. As soon as she heard him leave the couch she took a breath, bracing herself for what could be the best, or worst cover-up in history. She continued on her way into the kitchen.

"Hey Buff!" She heard him call from around the corner. "You o-" She was reaching for the freezer door when he saw her. "-oh…geez…what happened!?"

"Someone doesn't know how to use a bath towel." She answered, giving her best rendition of `annoyed' as she pulled out the icepack. "The bathroom sink and I got a little friendly, thanks to a misplaced puddle."

"*That* was that noise?" He asked. "God - Willow and I thought-" Another voice sounded from behind him.

"-you were battling the monster…in…the…drain…" Willow trailed off as she stepped around Xander with what looked like everyone's finished plates. "Wow…Buffy that looks huge." Without taking her eyes of Buffy she placed the plates gently in the sink and continued towards her,  reaching for the icepack Buffy had firmly pressed against her
cheek. "Let me see-"

"Will I'm fine." Buffy swatted her hand away, but removed the pack
for her to have a look. "See? Fine."

It didn't exactly have the desired effect. Willow's eyes widened even further "Are you sure there wasn't a monster in the bathroom?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "I'm sure Willow." She answered, moving past them both and walking purposefully toward the lounge room. "No bathroom monster fights. Although-" She rounded the corner, into the room, shrugging off the horrified looks from the others with the relief that she had actually managed to pull it off. "-if I find out who was the last person to use the shower…"

Dawn glanced at Anya.

"What?" She snapped.

Tara intervened before anything more could be made of it. "Are you okay, Buffy?"

"I'm fine Tara, I promise."

But even as she uttered the words a chill rose up her spine.

Something wasn't fine…

Buffy's eyes flew across the room to the couch, Faith's dark figure sat, eyes wide, staring. The edges of Buffy's vision began to blur, closing in, drawing the present from her and plummeting her into an eerie darkness that existed only behind her eyes.

~~~
"Faith it's me!"

<thump>

"Wha-?"

"Faith!"

"Get the fuck off me!"
~~~

"Buffy?" Xander's voice sounded by her ear and she blinked, trying to tear the vision of her dark bedroom from her eyes and once again attempting to seek out Faith. She could feel Xander's arm around her, steadying her through the unraveling of the vision from the lounge room and another set of concerned eyes.

"I'm okay…" She mumbled, concentrating on the feeling of the carpet underneath her feet. "Just a bit dizzy."

Faith remembered.

Faith knew.

"Faith, where are you-" Buffy heard Willow start to ask.

"Out."

By the time her vision had stabilized and Buffy could seek out Faith again, all she saw was the front door sliding shut.

Faith was gone. Again.

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