Fanfiction: Blood Simple
Alabaster
It’s all about the blood, really.
She knew it, deep inside, with an instinct that had carried over from…then. Now she knew a lot about the blood. But she remembered how she liked it even back in the bygones. It made everything so nice. It was what kept the vamps hunting, kept their demons alive. It was what made the humans die, the loss of it. It was what gave the color to the bruised skin.
And oh yeah, there was something so pretty about a bruise on white skin. It was worth the pain to see it rise up there, purple and blue. Some of them bruised so nice, too. It took only a few well placed hits and the bruises would bloom like flowers in the summertime. Yeah, fucking gorgeous! She loved to see them, and to know she was the one who made them.
They were little, or in some cases when she was too pissed or too drunk or both, not very little reminders that pain wasn’t always invisible. It was so wicked to see someone walk around with their wounds showing. Not like hers. Even back when the people who hurt her had been leaving marks, they left them where they wouldn’t show unless Faith had stripped and walked in public naked. By the time she reached the age where she fucking well would have stripped just about anywhere if it meant someone would see, they were no longer hitting her with things. They were carving her up with words. And that was when Faith got the idea to just get out. She was gone.
There had been a lot of blood between then and now. Fighting, and Slaying, and running and running. Vamps. Demons. They all got to feel some of the pain. She wanted to believe the vamps felt the pain before they dusted. Just in case, she beat the almighty shit out of them before she staked them. Just to be sure, you know how it is. She trusted in the redemption of the shared pain.
Then there was the other shit in her life. There was something that could have been friendship. There was something that could have been trust. And there was something that could have been tenderness. All she had to do to get it all was stand next to the Almighty Goddess and suck up the bitter taste of second best. All she had to do was pretend that it was all good, being thought of as the “other.” After all she’d been through, that should be nothing, right?
Wrong. So fucking wrong that there were no words to describe it. She’d been down so long that there was no way she was going to give up the spotlight that she deserved. It was her right, and there was no way she was walking away, or kissing ass, or letting them tell her what to do. She trusted for a bit, yeah, but that kicked her in the ass in the long run.
That had been her second Watcher, and it hurt to think how much she trusted that woman. It was like being handed everything you didn’t know you needed in one package. She told Faith how strong she was, called her a good fighter, compared her to legendary warriors. And she’d done some other things that Faith knew the Council wouldn’t be down with. Things that she knew weren?t happening between the Golden One and her Watcher, unless her radar was so far offbase that she couldn?t pick up sex signals anymore. So she’d let the woman train her in more ways than was in the Slayer Handbook, and she’d told herself it was genuine.
She let herself fall into the Watcher’s hands, literally. And into her mouth, and onto her tongue. And when the Watcher demanded performances from her pupil as well, Faith had done it, done all she was asked, in the hope that her little voice inside was wrong. She wanted so badly to trust for once.
That came back to haunt her. Never again, she swore. Never again. Now it was easier anyway. Now it was all about the blood again.
He’d taken her by surprise as she was crouched over the body of the last girl she’d been playing with. That one had bruised so nice, so easy, and her tears were like crystals, magnifying the dark markings on her face and on her neck when they slipped down. When Faith didn’t lick them up first. So she was watching the girl, who had passed out a few minutes earlier, and she was touching the bruises - there - there - and there, too - and she was marveling at how the blood inside was making such lovely shades of purple and blue. She was so distracted that she never heard him coming.
He must have been watching her from outside the window. He must have watched her and the girl do their thing. Must have waited until Faith was done beating the shit out of her partner and was all caught up in the revelry of the bruises. He just kicked in the door and grabbed her by the hair. Wrapped it in his fist once, twice, and wrenched her head to the side. Buried his teeth in her there without any of the usual bullshit.
Faith gasped and her hands flew back, grabbed at his head and tried to pull him off but it was a weak effort. Panic had sent adrenaline through her system and it made her dizzy instead of sharp. But he was sharp, his teeth were needles, daggers, they were stabbing into her like no pain she’d ever felt before.
His other arm came around her naked body, drawing her in closer and tighter to him. His clothes were cold and rough against her skin, and the grip brought the little air in her lungs out of her in a loud whoosh. Her chest couldn?t expand for her to draw any more in, the black spots that were taking over her vision begin to pulse with red at the edges, and she had a moment to realize she was dying before it actually happened. Her feet kicked against the bed in a spasm, grinding her bare bottom into his groin. She noted, dazed, that his cock was hard.
Then black. Her last thoughts were of bruises on white skin, and of her mother.