Chapter Eighteen.
Willow knew only how to seethe as she made the relentless pace back and forth across the boxed room of her bedroom. Everything had changed - everything was going wrong - and all of it; every single damned and cursed minute of it, was down to Faith. Willow had been learning to feel happiness again; her stomach fluttering at every glance from Kennedy, her heart learning how to heal as she had remembered how to love.
Not now though. Not when every other word exchanged with her new slayer sized girlfriend revolved around Faith. Always Faith. Every fucking thing, Faith:
“What was she like before the bad? Buffy said she was always getting you guys worked up, encouraging you to be naughty…”
“Can you please just shut up?”
“What? Did you just say what I think you said?”
“Yes Kennedy - shut up! Do you know how sick I am of hearing about the glorious enigma that’s Faith? Well guess what? She’s not glorious. She’s a bitch. A grade A, dirty skank bitch. She was a bitch before the bad, and she’s still a bitch now…”
And she had wanted to jump up and down in glee, proclaiming the bitchiness that was. Not able to do anything though, other than watch the retreating shape of her girlfriend’s back. Not the first time, not the last time. So many arguments formed in amongst the lingering turmoil that had followed them from Sunnydale. Willow’s least favourite so far, would have to be the night that Kennedy had dared to ask her to bare all of the hidden truths:
“You know I spoke to Buffy?”
“That’s nice sweetie - I want you two to be friends.”
“Uh-huh. She said some pretty far out stuff, made me realise a few things about… well, about Faith… and her. The stuff that happened back then.”
“Do we have to do this again? I thought we agreed…”
“No, you agreed. I want to talk about this - I want to know what all of this, is about.”
Being stalked then, edged back to the bed. The deep brown eyes looking down on her, flashing a heat she didn’t recognise, a gaze she hadn’t seen before. Following her up onto to the bed until there was nowhere left for her to hide.
“Was it because of Buffy, baby…? Did my little green eyed Willow have some jealousy flowing through her veins…”
“Get off of me…”
Seductive tones doing nothing; not looking to whisper secrets into a pillow whilst her mind was distracted elsewhere.
“Have I hit a nerve?”
And she had thrown her from her body. From the bed. A moment where the magics had flowed so unrestrained through her body - hearing the call of her anger, looking to be the bearer of her hate. A strength called forth that wasn’t really hers. It had shattered something in her new formed relationship. Trust. Honesty. Maybe a rib or two.
And all because of Faith.
They hadn’t spoken about her again, they hadn’t spoken much of anything since then. No snuggles at bedtime, no loving glances exchanged across the dining table at breakfast. Just a coldness. A disappointment. A reason that she wanted to get out of this god forsaken city! Once everyone was away from Faith - once they had new issues to deal with, a Council to set up, baddies to hunt - then everyone would forget about Faith. The same as when she was in a coma.
A small slice of Willow… just, well… just the tiniest slice really, had already thought about using means not quite human to end the troubles with the unwanted slayer.
A small spell. A simple spell. And no one would ever know to tell…
Except that she would know - and Willow really did believe that she was so much more good than bad. She really was so much better than Faith.
She stilled the thoughts and stopped the pacing, as a small yet firm knock sounded light against her bedroom door - knowing exactly who it would be - feeling her favourite source of power waiting expectant for an answer. Trying and failing to plaster something like a smile to her lips, as she rose to offer entry.
“Hey Will.”
“Buffy.”
The acid brewing in her tummy as she tried to hide distaste.
“Can I come in? I think we need to talk.”
“If this is gonna be another of your Faith recitals, I’d really rather not. I have packing to do - socks to fold…”
“You fold your socks?”
“Well, no. I put them into those little tucked up ball shapes… but it’s like folding… there is some folding involved in the process. Anyway, aside from my packing habits - I really don’t wanna talk anymore about Faith. That is who you came to talk about, right?”
“Always so perceptive.”
“Always so predictable. Are you not sick to death of tragic love stories, Buffy? Just once wouldn’t you like to fall for someone a little more stable… maybe, you know, less psychotic?”
Willow saw the pain that she had inflicted in Buffy’s eyes, but she could not find the room to care so much. She could not help herself. Willow had her own pain - had her own reasons for wanting to keep lids on old feelings that had no right to be felt. Stepping back now - turning away and knowing that Buffy would follow her in… that she would seek to keep on pushing.
Something those slay girls all had in common.
“Was that good for you, Will? Did you score extra points for hurting me?”
“I’m not trying to hurt you, I’m trying to help you! You all have these blinkers on, and it’s like you can’t see what Faith really is. You know her - you can’t deny what she is Buffy…”
“Can you please stop? Seriously now; the kid gloves are coming off. Just sit the hell down and shut the hell up.”
And she did. Her mouth dropping open without words, as she dropped her ass back down to the bed. Dumbfounded. Confounded. Witnessing again the agony behind the eyes of her best friend - the lifting of Buffy’s hand as she wiped away at the things she couldn’t hide.
“Buffy…”
“Stay there. I don’t want comfort from you; I did want that - it was all that I wanted. You to hold me close while I told you what was hurting, maybe a little bit of understanding…”
“Understanding?! We’re talking about Faith!”
“No, we’re talking about me. Me, Will. You remember? Best friend, housemate. You chucked me out of my home, and now you’ve chucked me out of your heart?”
There weren’t any words quick enough to leap to Willow’s defence this time. She couldn’t think sense - just recovery. Trying to stand again, softening her gaze to offer Buffy her arms…
“No! I told you, no. I don’t want hugs, I want answers. I want to know why you’ve got such a mountain-sized problem with Faith - I mean, what is it? Is there something happening here that I don’t know about?”
“What do you mean?”
“I know you, I know how caring you are, how soft your heart is - I can’t, I just don’t understand how you can hate her so much… what she did that made you so…”
“She hurt you!”
Buffy’s look was still exhausted as her head shook along to Willow’s words. Closing her eyes. Her hands raised to encompass her face, to slide all the way back and run frustrated through her hair.
“Exactly. She hurt me. And admittedly, someone hurts you and I’m gonna be all big with the wanting to protect - but I don’t want this. I don’t need you to protect me from Faith…”
“Well, what do you want Buffy? You want me to hang the banners and proclaim my joy at the thought of you and her? Is that what best friends do? Should I toast your taste in psycho killers?”
And Willow really couldn’t help it. She wanted to pull back, she wanted to take heed of her friend’s pain and stop the vitriol from pouring forth… but it was Faith…
The Faith who had always found a way to come between them. Who had always been worthy of those special smiles from Buffy, those special dances, when she’d had to make do only with rescheduled revision nights and totally chaste hugs on totally chaste doorsteps.
Letting the memory encompass her, letting that hurt explode hard and fast in her heart. “I think it’s sick. I think the whole thing is sick.”
“Really? Is that how you really feel?”
“Absolutely.”
“In that case Will, you need to keep the hell away from me.”
“Wait - you what?”
“You heard me. I really hoped that you wouldn’t do this, that I’d come up here and you’d offer me a good explanation, maybe apologise for the crazy insults you’ve been tossing around…”
Feeling her own eyes dampening at Buffy’s words.
“…but no. You’re too damn stubborn to see that this could be good for me. That this could make me happy. Why is that? Don’t you think I deserve the happies?”
Did she?
Absolutely. She wanted nothing more than for Buffy to know eternal happiness, a whole lifetime of happiness. But she couldn’t find a place in herself that wasn’t outright screaming at the burning fury invoked by thoughts of Faith.
“Willow?”
“You mean, with Faith?”
“No… yes, not - do we have to do this again?”
“I thought you wanted to do this? I can’t not do this. I can’t stand around while my best friend makes the biggest mistake of her life, and pretend that I don’t see it coming… Faith is evil. Give her half a chance, and she’ll kill you Buffy. Offer her your heart and she’ll only break it.”
Spoken with such authority and intelligence, perhaps as if she thought that she was cleverer than Buffy, as if her burgeoning IQ meant that she should be able to stand around and dictate all of the smaller issues in life. Allowing herself a little smile as Buffy flinched at her words… looking to raise her hands again… stroking smooth across her arms…
“Come on, you’ve gotta admit that it’s a pretty far out notion. Not just cos it’s a girl - and hello - when did you get so down with the girly loving? But it’s Faith, Buffy. Not some nice girl that’s going to treat you right and love you; not someone that’s going to care when you’ve had a bad day and you need a little snuggle time…”
“Stop.”
Trying to bend the unbendable to fit in her grasp. Her arms sliding up to shoulders. Trying to pull Buffy close again.
“No Will, I said stop!”
And finding herself pushed back. Thrown back. Buffy’s eyes holding proper tears, Buffy’s voice holding unbearable pain.
“I can’t believe this… I can’t…”
“Wait…”
“God Will, who are you?”
And forever freezing on that moment.
“Buffy…”
“No - I don’t even know who you are anymore. I thought… I don’t know, I guess I believed that you’d want to wish me well. That when you knew how much this meant to me - when you knew how much she meant to me - you’d be able to let it go. I don’t understand you…”
The slayer shoulders that she had always admired, straining tight because of her. The steel slipping into eyes - the look of absolute determination etching tight across Buffy’s face.
“…I can’t deal with this. I won’t deal with this. I asked you to be there for me, and you said no - now I’m telling you again Will; stay the hell away from me.”
“But…”
“But nothing. I’m done with this.”
The door rattling so hard on its hinges as Buffy turned and walked away. Leaving the room silent. Leaving Willow heaving sobs into the uselessness of a duvet - grabbing for comfort in the starchy harsh pillows of the hotel bed.
Everything was just going so wrong…
And nobody could see. Or maybe she couldn’t see?
She didn’t know - could not fool herself that she was anywhere near sure - she just knew her feelings. Felt the inconsolable anguish ripping at her heart whenever she let her mind wander to the places that Buffy had taken it. That time last week when she had first brought voice to the nightmare that lived inside…
“So that’s it Will, I’ve been harbouring the secret deep down feelings for Faith - kinda crazy, huh?”
Knowing that Buffy had been so nervous, knowing that what she needed was a hold that offered acceptance, words that would soothe her pain - but no. Willow had twisted her face and let her own pain shine through. Dismissing Buffy’s feelings, ridiculing her feelings. Yet again insisting that Faith was never anything to be loved.
And Xander was right. What a bitch she had become.
Maybe they were all right and she was the wrong one? She couldn’t help but find consideration for that thought now. Sat so alone. Feeling so alone. But how could she hold in a feeing? How could she stop her blood boiling and her anger itching, every single time that anyone mentioned the name of Faith?
It felt impossible.
How could so much have changed in so little time, when yesterday still felt like four years ago, and tomorrow still felt like something she would never see? Faith didn’t know, didn’t understand the changes that she was going through; but she could not deny that changes were occurring. Catch her in a good moment, and she would even admit that she liked the change.
Everything was just so different here.
For a start; no bars. No cage. No prison. No made to remember every single damn moment that she held her eyes open, that she was bad. There was no one here telling her that. No one here who reflected on her like that.
She hadn’t thought in the beginning that it was going to be like this. No - she had believed most sincerely that Angel would serve only as the first of her stakes back into the game. That he would be the fodder to bring the tears to Buffy’s eyes……
She was going to take them all out, one by one… start with Angel, hit the friends - maybe the sister. Show Buffy what alone really felt like; see how well she survived when she had nothing. When she had no one. When they were equal.
But everything was different here.
People that didn’t look at her as if they knew everything about her, people who smiled at her as if she really was someone worth smiling at.
“…Angel asked me to pick you up some things, and really, Cordy was so much better at all of this - but I tried to keep in mind the things he said, and… oh, wait, I haven’t even introduced myself yet! Hi. I’m Fred.”
“Right… uh, I’m Faith?”
“I know that, silly. Angel said you were coming to stay. Look, here’s the clothes and if you need anything else, just give me a holler.”
Smiles and clothes. And really, the clothes hadn’t been half as bad as she had expected from the introduction. Some new jeans. A couple of vests, a few faded T shirts. And the genuine smile had been worth so much more. Had meant so much more. Faith had allowed herself to believe the bad press, she had nurtured the bad press until it spoke mostly the truth - but here she was seeing the good press. She was learning a different side to life, the side where sometimes you didn’t have to take because someone just gave.
She was listening to the voices that she had learnt to keep silent.
It was no easy answer. For hours she could find herself slipping back into a silent reverie that reeked of rage and revenge and all things nasty - remembering with bitter distaste how she felt deep inside, the aching hole that she had tried to fill with all of the darkness. Feeling that flow in the veins as she relived all of the death - her own destruction.
Something that always sent the brainwaves soaring. That had caused more damage to Angel’s ancient treasures and periodic paintings than he could ever care to mention. Just so much anger. Such coiling, boiling anger when she remembered the feelings that still felt like yesterday.
“You did it… you killed me.”
Her eulogy. The minute when moments had stopped.
Ready to really let that be the last minute - to plan every move for the future based upon that one instant - that one twisted and fucked up second that she still couldn’t bring herself to understand. Buffy wasn’t ever meant to have killed her. It was wrong. Jesus - it was so fucking wrong…
“…Don’t be so bloody daft - you think if the slayer wanted you dead, you’d still be left standing? Not a chance.”
New voices taking hold. Voices that made her laugh - that tickled her in places she had forgotten how to feel. Deep belly chuckles and things that sounded like fun. But so much more than fun. Faith couldn’t explain it to Angel, didn’t really want to explain it to Angel - but there was something about Spike that was breathing the air back into her lungs. Honesty for a start. He didn’t fuck around with her - he had something to say? He darn well said it. Didn’t care if something was gonna set her off, didn’t care to use words that would calm her down. You got what you saw.
And then there was the second benefit. Maybe the most beneficial - the thing that Angel would love to know, the thing that Faith could never explain.
She felt safe with Spike.
One hundred percent, absolutely and unequivocally safe with him. He was a ghost. No matter what, he couldn’t touch her. And no matter what, she couldn’t touch him. Safety. When nothing mattered because no one was going to get hurt.
And there was freedom in that.
Freedom for the voices that had been strangled beneath the violence, a time when they could plan sneak attacks and filter through any of the residues left over from the madness. A voice that she barely recognised. Offering placation where she had only pled for death, the promise of salvation when she had honestly believed that there was really nothing left.
Not sharing the words she heard, just gathering information. Letting Spike fill her ears with talk of the glory days - every little happening that had happened back in Sunnydale. And it was funny the way that he chose to tell it; every situation casting dodgy light on the Scoobies and a decidedly heroic light on himself. It had made her laugh more. Everything funny until he had told her the truth. A moment that had hurt so bad, yet meant so much, and at the same time sought only to confuse her more.
He had tried to hurt Buffy. Fuck that. He had gone into her home and he had tried to rape Buffy.
“…Nothing there I’m proud of luv; just telling it so you’ll see.”
“See? See what? Dude, that’s fucked up right? That is so far past fucked up.”
“Exactly. There’s not much worse I could’ve done.”
“What? You want a high five for that? Shit - you think I’m gonna be impressed by that?”
“You really are an imbecile. No, you idiot, I’m not looking for garlands - I’m getting you to see that you’re not the only one that’s done some things they’re not so proud of. It’s not the end of the world.”
But it had blown hers apart.
So many entwined emotions bursting to break her mind. Anger of course - so much fucking anger. And he was lucky he was a ghost, because in that moment, if she had been armed, if he had been solid - he would have been dust. And that raised the case of another emotion. Not able to name it. The one that had her confused.
She had been ready to kill for Buffy. Not kill Buffy. But for her. The first and most primal instinct, to protect her. To curse and kill anyone that would dare seek to harm her.
Define confused?
It had broadened something else that she was learning to call trust. Listening to the full tale - not just from then, but from the now - how he wouldn’t allow Buffy to know that he was back, how he felt like he had defiled his death as her champion by returning as he had.
“…Man, that’s a rough sitch. You know she’d be cool though, right? It’s Buffy - you know what she’s like.”
Offering comfort to a ghost. Not for self gain, not to reap a reward; just because it was a rough sitch. She felt that and she had shared the feeling. Not listening to her own words, almost choking hard on his:
“You know something, Faith? I’m beginning to think you’ve got a soft spot for our little blonde slayer…”
Classic.
Making her laugh again. Making her think again. Making her want to form more friendships. Re-find old ones. Imploring herself to finally face up to the shit things that she was capable of doing, and seek forgiveness from Xander. Faith had never gone there with him… had spent so much time trying to avoid remembering back then…
Just comics. Nothing close. Nothing real. Barely a friendship.
Pulling her hair back slowly into a ponytail as she glanced across at the arriving elevator. Back in the moment. One of the sink or swim variety that she’d had so much fun explaining to Angel.
“You think that you’re swimming?”
She was damn well going to try.
Not quite sure what she was meant to do though as she found herself staring into Xander’s one good eye. As her gaze travelled down and met his easy smile.
“Xander… hey.”
“Hey? I’m gone for two days, and I only get, hey? Where’s the love?”
“You want love? You don’t wanna kick my ass?”
And she found herself encompassed in something she hadn’t expected. Arms that felt supportive instead of suffocating, words which let her know that things were still okay - his end was still afloat.
“No Faith. This lean, mean fighting machine is all unready for action. Just go easy on me okay? I’m not one of the bad guys, you don’t have to beat me up.”
And her end had nearly sunk.
“I’m sorry. Serious Xander - not used to saying it, but I damn well mean it. It was messed up, I didn’t mean to…”
“Hey, quiet. I get it, okay? You’ve still got stuff you’re dealing with; I should’ve respected that. Not saying I’m thrilled about the violence, but I get where it came from. We’ll forget it.”
“No.”
“No? You don’t wanna forget it?”
“I can’t afford to forget it. I’m on the edge here, Xander - maybe it’s time I figured out which way I’m gonna go.”
And where was the strength that she was always telling herself she had? Buckling now. Not so easy to find the words that she had rehearsed so frantic with Spike. Moving away from support, steeling her breath to form words.
“Faith…?”
“No, I’m cool. This is just… different.”
Everything here was different.
“Do you wanna look at the comics?”
And didn’t he get that? Couldn’t he open that eye and look at her, and see that she was trying?
“No - I don’t want to look at comics. Just can it for a minute, yeah? I’ve got shit to say, and it’s never getting said if you keep on distracting me.”
And there. He saw.
“Sorry, what did you want to say?”
“Where was I up to?”
“Uh… you mentioned the edge…”
“Right, the edge. I’m at it Xander. It’s like I’m so fucking close to this howling abyss and all I’ve been able to hear, is all of the shit inside. Bad shit, you know?”
“Bad shit?”
“Real bad shit. And the thing is; I don’t want the shit anymore. I can’t take the shit anymore… I want what you said. Back in the basement - after Red’s welcome home…”
She stepped back as he sought to bring her close again, not accepting support. “You said, give us a chance, right?”
“Yes Faith, that’s what I said.”
“Well, I want to. Shit, I want you to give me a chance. I don’t even know if I can do this, haven’t got a fucking clue how I’m meant to do it, but I’m ready to learn.”
The silence that greeted her words did not have Faith bathing in comfort. As if everything she had just exposed was echoing back from the panelling on the walls. Filling her ears - taunting her senses. Nervous words springing forth.
“Fuck, that was stupid, right? I try and strangle you, and then tell you I’m changing…? Maybe I’m still crazy; it feels like I might still be crazy…”
“No, stop Faith… I’m just… wow. What’s Angel been feeding you?”
“Meatloaf. Pizza. Canteen food…”
“And a whole lot of sense. Wait - is this a joke? Are you gonna eviscerate me as soon as my head’s turned?”
“Didn’t plan on it.”
“Then wow, again. I don’t actually have anything past the wow.”
“Wow is good. I like wow.”
And she did. Something soft in his smile as he looked at her now; patting the bed space beside him and waving the bag with the comics. Looking to tempt her in that same teasing way as the first time.
“Ready to get the goodies, Faith?”
“Don’t tempt me lover boy. You know it’s been four years, could be all sorts of painful.”
Teasing him back with the arch in her eyebrow and the curve of her lips. Rolling her hips as she stalked him, laughing out loud as she collapsed into the space beside him.
And it was different. She felt different.
Like she was taking her first step towards living.
