She sat in her cell...the prison that was her mind. Alone.

Was that not true of her entire life? Had she not been so very alone for her entire existence? Maybe not. Her first watcher. She had shown something more than disdain, hatred or lust. That didn't matter though. That only made what Kakistos had done worse. This really wasn't the time to think about it though. This was the time to get over it. Not so much move on, as remain stationary for once. Stuck with nothing but her own thoughts. She was going to have to deal, it was either deal or go totally fucking crazy.

Not that she hadn't been there once. She had. Well, more on the brink of it rather than actually in it. She was moving to fast to actually stop and think, to actually recognize the loss of all that made her human. The temporary lapse during which the Mayor had clouded whatever judgment she had once had, and rendered her soulless. It had been a good time. She wasn't alone then either. She had him, and he had her. It was the closest thing to real love she had ever felt. The Mayor had treated her like a daughter, and she had loved him like a father for it. It was different than what she had with her watcher. It wasn't as forced. He hadn't needed to take her in, he wasn't bound by duty. He had chosen to do it. He had loved her.

Her Watcher and The Mayor. The two, the *only* two people that had ever loved her. Her heart stopped beating momentarily and caught in her chest. Even her body wasn't going to let a lie like that go without some kind of reaction. Like the untruth of it all had poisoned her and choked her. That was ironic. Wasn't love supposed to set you free? Heal all your wounds? Make everything better? Fucking, roses and elephants or whatever that stupid saying was. It didn't much matter now, nothing really mattered. Again with the mini-rush, like killing a vamp only different. Worse. This one was followed by a bitter after-taste rather than that good low-down tickle that a fierce kill brought her.

Buffy fucking Summers.

There. She had thought it...it hadn't been that hard. Blatant lie number two. It had been the hardest thing she'd ever done, and yet...yet somehow it wasn't...it wasn't anything but right. Just, *right*.

Despite the fact that the blonde was probably sitting at home plotting ways to kill her. No. Faith didn't give herself that much credit, the blonde was probably at home fucking her boyfriend or playing with the scooby gang, living her perfect life and not giving a second thought to the fucking *mistake* that was stuck in a jail cell in LA.

"Mistake". That was all she was. The message had been constantly reinforced throughout her life by numerous people.

Her mother. She that had once been "firecracker" became "mistake" after a few drinks. Even before the drinking started. When she was really, really little, her mother had told her that she was a "surprise gift". Unexpected, but still a gift nonetheless. That deteriorated not long after. She wasn't an unexpected, or surprise gift, she was a drunken fuck-up. A mistake her mother had made while intoxicated, much like everything else.

The men passing through the house. Boyfriends never stuck around long. Faith watched them use and abuse her mother over and over again, always scared, always confused, never really knowing what to do. How could she? It had started when she was four and progressed until her watcher came when she was 16. For 12 years she listened to countless men call her a "mistake". That horrible word. The word wasn't the worst thing she heard from them. No. That had to be the sound of their huge belts un-buckling, and the sound of their voices calling out her name. Maybe that was why she hated herself so much.

The very sound..."Faith". It brought her back to a time that she had tried so hard to forget.

It was ironic. "Faith the mistake". She had none in herself, her own name was a foreign concept to her. The mistake part was all she really knew.

Even when she was called to a sacred duty, to protect the innocent from what lurks, from what goes bump in the night. To save motherfucking humanity that had screwed her over so many times...she was still a mistake. Called in error, it was Buffy who reigned supreme. She wasn't even the second best. That was Kendra. She was the third best...if third can even be called a "best". Nope. She was the dark sister of the golden child, the Mighty Queen of Sunnydale. Why did that bother her so much? Why couldn't she just get over it? Why did she want to be Buffy so damn badly? Was it just the family thing? The friends? The people that cared about her? The house even?

She knew, she knew deep down that none of those were valid reasons.

Faith didn't want to be Buffy. She wanted Buffy to love her, she wanted to *have* Buffy. Not have what Buffy had. It was a fine line, and she had been to fucked up to see the distinction clearly. She often asked herself if Buffy had. If the "Real" slayer had known all along, what Faith was to blind to see.

So engrossed in her thoughts was she, that Faith didn't hear the guard horsely shout her name the first few times. It wasn't until he came right up, and smashed the bars with his nightstick that she finally acknowledged him.

"Fuckhead! You have a visitor. You got five minutes, make 'em count." He told her, as he gestured for her to put her hands through the bars to be cuffed.

What a fucking joke. She was a slayer, maybe the third best, and maybe a mistake, but still a slayer nonetheless. If she wanted out, she would have out. It was that simple. There was no way a pair of hand cuffs, or a jail cell could hold her. She was there by choice, and they should know that. They should appreciate her for what she was. But they didn't. How could they? She was nothing more than an inmate to them. Not only that, but she didn't respect herself. She knew they wouldn't, or couldn't, until she did. That was going to take a long time.

Again she was so caught up in her thoughts, that she arrived at the visiting area before she knew it and was not-so-gently seated in a cold plastic chair, that faced a pane of plexiglass. Not looking up or into it, she picked up the phone and spoke into it.

"Long time no see Fangs." She said with her typical false bravado.

When she was met with silence, Faith looked up slightly surprised. Sure he was quiet, and chose his words carefully, but he wasn't normally rude.

This time her heart stopped for real. Her breath didn't catch. She had no breath to catch, it was just gone. All of it. She sat open mouthed, staring at the image through the semi-mirrored glass. It was a bizarre sight to see.

Superimposed over her own faded image was that of Buffy. The girl she had prayed would come and see her, prayed to a god she didn't even believe existed, and did it anyway.

The bizarre sight was to much for her, and she wasn't sure it was even her voice when she heard the words spoken.

"Long time no see B."

Always thinking on her feet, the blonde was quick to reply.

"And here I was thinking this place would change you. I guess I was wrong huh?"

"Is that a first for you girlfriend?"

"Don't call me that. I'm so not your friend."

She tried not to let her face fall to much, tried to keep the smirk ever-present. Even her words were spoken with a proud swagger, if that was even possible.

"Glad we're clear on that one."

"Stop. I don't want to do the verbal sparring thing, I'm so sick of this."

"Me to. Why don't you come on this side of the glass and we can spar for real? I'll kick your ass with the cuffs on...might even be fun. Gotta have a first time for everything right?"

"Wow Faith, I would have thought that you'd have quite a lot of experience with the whole 'cuffed fighting' thing."

"Wasn't talking about me B."

That one got her. At least a little. She got that look on her face, the kind of shocked but kind of tweaked one. Whatever. Why was she even here? As if reading her mind, Buffy regained her composure and spoke again.

"Shut up. Just listen to me, I'm so sick of not being able to talk to you without you trying to kill me with either your stupid remarks or you're laughable slaying skills."

Taken aback, Faith gritted her teeth. That was why she hated her. Or loved her...or lusted after her. It really wasn't clear. She didn't know which was which at this point. She just knew that Buffy had a knack for pissing her off. Badly.

"You are a seriously messed up bitch and I've accepted that. You tried to steal my friends, then you tried to kill my boyfriend. That was before you went nuts and started killing innocent people, trying to kill my friends, and then actually trying to kill me. That was great huh? Great fucking memories Faith. Thanks. Not to mention the time you stole my body. Thought I'd forgotten about that? No sorry. I'll never forget how horrible it was to be stuck in your body. Hope you had fun in mine. Oh wait! I know you did! Thanks for sleeping with my boyfriend."

Faith hung her head. It was true. She had completely and utterly fucked Buffy over. She hadn't meant to so much as it had just happened. That was her habit. Letting life happen *to* her rather than take it by the horns, and make it happen *for* her. When she finally looked up, she was startled to see Buffy with a sad, sad look on her face. She had expected a self-righteous smirk, not...not compassion...not fucking *pity*. It would have been better to see hatred than pity. Pity was the end. The last bastion of feeling you could hold for somebody. It meant you didn't care anymore. You just simply...pitied them. She needed something, anything other than what she was getting.

"You're welcome." She said and smirked at Buffy.

Nothing. Nothing but a sad shake of her head. Faith felt like dropping the phone. No, she felt like throwing it at the plexi-glass, breaking through and hitting Buffy as hard as she could.

"Forget it. I'm just...I'm sorry Faith. That this is how it had to be." The blonde hung up the phone, and with one parting glance walked off down the barren hallway.

Faith sat, in shock. There was nothing else she could do or say. No snappy remark she could make. Just...nothing.

The guard grabbed her by the collar of her uniform, and half-dragged, half shoved her back to her cell. Locking her up and taking the cuffs off, he reached into his shirt and pulled out a small package.

"The girl brought you this. Had to run it through security first."

The paper it was wrapped in had been shredded and destroyed, Faith was sure that it had been the colour comics section of sunday's paper at one point in it's life. The package was from Buffy, she knew that before he even threw it at her. Nobody else would ever be so thoughtful. Not even Angel, he was to out of touch with reality, to stuck in his own brooding and egotistical issues to bother with *really* caring about anybody else.

Carefully removing the remains of paper, she pulled out a note and a tape. Great. Did Buffy actually think she had access to a tape player in this place? What the fuck? Jail wasn't exactly the Holiday Inn for fuck sakes. Whatever.

Unfolding the note she read it slowly.

"Dear Faith, So you messed with my mom. Predictable. You were in my body, she would have been kind of hard to avoid. You harassed Willow and Tara...fine, it's better than killing them. You got Spike acting *really* out of character, even for a neutered vampire, and you had sex with my boyfriend. But god Faith! You could have replaced the batteries...I mean, it would have made it all much less obvious.

-B"

She couldn't help but smile. Was this Buffy's way of getting the last word? Or...or was the Righteous One actually starting to forgive her? Didn't matter. She was in the cell with the note, she could take it how she wanted to. It was hers to interpret. Faith tucked away the note and tape for another day, maybe she'd be able to bribe the guard into getting her a player for a few minutes. It was time however, for sleep. Much needed sleep.

The cold metal bed sucked, but it was better than the piss stained floor.

She was asleep in minutes. The interaction with Buffy had been very draining.

xxx

Awaking to the standard sirens the next morning, Faith shook her head. Trying to rid herself of the grogginess never quite worked. It always stayed, clogging her brain. Didn't matter. It was time for inspection and then breakfast. The mornings always passed quickly, and since she was in a solitary max-security cell, she had a lot of down time to spend alone with her thoughts.

Buffy. The tape! The fucking tape! She reached over to where she had put it the night before, but found nothing. Jumping up, she stood in front of the empty cubby where she had stowed it. It was gone. What the fuck!! Had the guards stolen it? Those bastards. They must have, they were the only other people that ever came near her cell, or had access to it.

Yelling at the guy standing at the end of the hallway, she demanded to have her tape back. Authority figures, especially those in jails, did not smile upon belligerent or disrespectful behavior. Faith was headed for two weeks of hard labour for the outburst, and her tape wasn't going to show up any time soon. Even the one guard she trusted had told her in all honesty, that he had no idea where it was. He didn't even know that she had been visited the night before.

xxx

It had been thirty-two days since Buffy's visit. Thirty-two of the same. She was still the same mistake she had always been, still third best, and still alone. At least on this day, she had gotten a visitor. Not that getting a visitor was always a good thing. It was Angel, and he was looking worse than usual, even more forlorn and depressed.

After sitting down in her usual stall, she looked over at him. Something was wrong, very, very wrong. She tried to keep it light...like she could somehow avoid the imminent horror that was to come.

"Deadboy! How I've missed you so!" She chided.

"Faith..." She didn't like his tone. Not one bit.

"Faith, she's dead."

He didn't have to tell her who, she was well aware. She knew the second that he came in that something wasn't right. The attempt at playing it off with light humor wasn't going to work. This was dire...this was fucking horrible. It felt way worse than a knife in the gut, or falling from an eight story building...or both! And she knew what those felt like.

Before she knew it, she was choking up and could barely speak. Words came in harsh gasps.

"Why...how?"

"She's a slayer. That's what happens to slayers, vampires kill them. A new one gets called, it's the way it works."

Faith couldn't believe the lack of emotion in his voice. He didn't care, he didn't give a flying fuck, he just accepted it as "fate", or "destiny" or whatever bullshit flavour of the month word he was calling it. Rage boiled up within. That was her way of dealing with it. Always was. Rage was her first emotion.

When she was little it had been fear, but when she had gotten her powers...that fear turned to rage. The desire to strike out.

Throwing the phone down, she jumped up on the little table and smashed her fists against the plexi-glass, breaking the pane down and sending it crashing over Angel's expansive cranium.

"You fucking bastard! I hate you! I fucking hate you!" She screamed, and started to kick his chest as hard as she could.

He didn't move. Again, this was worse than fighting back. He just lay prone, allowing her to use him to take out her rage. It wasn't for very long though, in her hand cuffs made it difficult enough, let alone the emotions that were overtaking her very being. She wasn't quick enough, and the guards quickly grabbed her and shoved her down, smashing her across the back with their nightsticks several times. Angel shouted at them to stop, but they didn't care. They would have, had they known he was a centuries old vampire.

Lashing out for the first time since getting the news of Buffy's death, Angel sent the six guards crashing down around the hallway, in various locations. Grabbing Faith, he slung her over his shoulder and ran to the nearest window. Ripping off the metalwork with vampiric strength, he dove out the window with Faith in tow and ran towards the edge of the prison grounds. Taking several bullets in his back, the huge vampire tore down one of the gates in a rage, and jumped into the always punctual Angelmobile, with Cordy at the wheel. The actress cum secretary really hadn't expected the slayer to be with him, and uttered a few comments of disgust before getting a look from Angel that told her to shut up, quick.

xxx

Where the fuck was she? How had she gotten there? Was this a hotel? Was she dead? What was going on? The pain in her wrists where the cuffs had been, told her that she was very much alive. With that realization, it hit her. Buffy wasn't. Buffy was fucking gone. Dead. The golden child. The perfect one, the one that was....right. Why? Why the fuck? Tears were streaming down her face before she even realized it. She hadn't cried in years. Why now? Because. Because Buffy was gone, and the last interaction she'd had with her had been all wrong. She hadn't told her the truth. She hadn't ever let Buffy know. She was such a fucking idiot.

Finally opening her eyes, Faith looked over at the bedside table that sat beside her. On it, lay the exact same package she had gotten all those days ago from Buffy. Only now, now the paper wasn't tattered or torn. It was just as she had intended it. Just like Buffy had wanted her to see it. Taking the tape out, she looked across the room and saw a conveniently placed tape player. Putting the tape in carefully, she listened. It started out with Buffy's voice.

"I want to keep this simple. So I will. Faith, I know."

Well that was certainly simple.

The tape crackled and a song came on.

"Confess what you crave A life without pain You'd kill for the taste But the hurt still remains

Still they don't know who you are Still never know who you are

Just be still my emerald I'll be waiting for you Do exactly what you're told I'll be waiting for you

Ashamed by the threats You pierce the embrace Afraid and alone In a dark lonely place

Still they don't know who you are Still never know who you are

Did you always want to be Did they try to steal your soul Did they hurt you with deceit Can't you come in from the cold Be still my emerald I'll be waiting for you"

"Faith...I know." Buffy said again, from beyond the grave.

Clutching her sides, she cried. She cried and cried and cried. Buffy was really gone. She had known, and she had...had she felt the same? It didn't matter know, they would never know. They would never know because Faith had let herself get to fucked up to see what mattered. She let the Mayor show her what she wanted to see, and she fucked Buffy over and wasn't there when she needed her. When she could have saved her. Now she lay six-feet under, in one of those nameless cemeteries that she had patrolled so...so faithfully, night after night, protecting the innocent from what she herself would be unable to avoid.

Faith sat in her cell...the prison that was her mind. Alone.

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