Fanfiction: Faithless

CHAPTER ONE: ALONE

Beep-beep. Beep-beep. Beep-beep. Beep-beep. Beep-b-

"Jesus Christ, will you shut the hell up?" Faith exclaimed as she hurled the alarm clock across her tiny room, where it exploded against the wall in a shower of circuits and plastic. How can it be noon already? she thought, trying to rub the sleep from her eyes. It seemed like she'd just fallen asleep a few minutes ago, but apparently she'd been out for at least seven hours. And now she had a new day to deal with, another in a long string that she could just as well do without.

Lately her life hadn't been what most people would call "ideal". Not that anything that Faith had ever had could be considered ideal: a drunken, unloving mother who had died years earlier; a Watcher murdered right before her eyes; nightly violence and bloodshed due to her duty as a Slayer; no family; no friends. A life of loneliness, neglect, and alienation was all that Faith knew. So she did what anyone would do under those circumstances: she hid the pain behind a façade that she was forced to carry out from day to day just to get by. Don't let them see your pain; they'll think you're weak. Show them strength, recklessness, attitude, anything, just don't let them inside or they'll hurt you in the end.

Everything depressed her, and nothing she did could alleviate the feeling that life was just one disaster after another, a pointless struggle against everyone and everything. Faith's only real emotional outlet was in slaughtering vampires and the occasional random demon, but even that was growing wearisome; was there a point if you could never win? Every night and every day were the same, the hours of the former spent doing nothing but killing, and the latter consisting of seemingly endless spans of time in which she would either sit in her dingy motel room hating herself and everyone else, or venture out into the world and live the life of someone who's not really breathing. She was not unaware that she wasn't really living her life when she interacted with the outside world; someone else seemed to take over and supply the wit and the sarcasm while the real Faith, always so afraid of rejection and so desperately in need of love and attention, could safely hide under the charade.

Things were worse since she'd come to Sunnydale. Sure, it had been rough before, but at least Faith hadn't had to face the life she could've been living if things were different. Some might think that the life Buffy led was all tears and heartbreak, but it was sunshine and happiness compared to Faith's. Buffy had a house, and a mom, and friends, and a Watcher, and a lover. Faith had nothing. Originally, it seemed that she might be able to fit in with Buffy and her friends, but over time, predictably, she had been pushed away and was now rarely included in anything that the group did. To them, Faith barely existed, and then only as an afterthought.

Rousing herself from these self-defeating thoughts, she rummaged through her meager wardrobe to find something suitable to wear, settled with some faded jeans, a white shirt, and her favorite black jacket, entered the bathroom, showered, and did her makeup using her little compact. Everyone had always said that Faith was pretty, and she had believed the compliments early on, but over time, after dealing with betrayal and neglect for years, she eventually didn't see anything special in herself anymore. If she was truly beautiful, why did no one bother to love her? Forced into this line of thinking, Faith's relationships now consisted of one-night stands with random men whom she used and then tossed away. She simply couldn't bring herself to trust her emotions with anyone in any kind of long-term relationship for fear that she would end up torn and hurt in the end, like she always had before.

Sighing, she looked with shame out of the bathroom towards her bed. Her belongings in the dilapidated motel room consisted of an ancient, unreliable black-and-white television set that stood against the wall opposite her bed, a smallish stereo sitting on the dresser a few feet away, a few magazines, and her clothes. She owned nothing else. The alarm clock had belonged to her, too, but now it wasn't ever going to do much good again, shattered as it was on the floor. It was still attempting to make some sort of utterly pathetic beeping sound, interspersed with electric crackles and the artificially unpleasant smell of burnt plastic. After cleaning it off the ground and throwing its remains under the bed, she gathered what little money she had and walked out the door, not bothering to lock it behind her. Nothing inside was worth stealing.

Outside, Sunnydale was suffering from an extreme lack of sunlight. The clouds from the storm on the previous night had yet to be blown away, and though they weren't pouring rain at the moment, they hung over the California coast like a bad omen, encasing the town in a cold, almost black grip. Faith didn't mind the rain or the cold; actually, she didn't really pay much attention to weather in general. If it couldn't beat, maim, or kill you, then why bother worrying? Wandering through the town somewhat aimlessly, she was barely aware of the biting cold through her jacket and her tumultuous thoughts.

What day is it? A school day? The weekend? Damn it...I really need to get a calendar or something. If I had more money, I might get one, but it can wait. I hope Buffy's in school today...then I won't accidentally run into her and be forced into false pleasantries. "Hi, Faith. How's your little slice of misery going? Uh-huh, that's good to hear." Well I don't need your sympathy, B. Mind your own business.

Ironically, her destination ended up being Sunnydale High, probably due to some unconscious need for companionship, however fleeting. On the way it had begun to drizzle, foreshadowing a continuation of last night's storm, so she pulled up her jacket collar a bit higher, wrapped her arms around herself, and sat down on the curb across the street, waiting to see if Buffy would show. Maybe they could get lunch together. That wouldn't be so bad, she thought.

She passed the time watching the rain stream down in a heavy mist from the sky. It was beautiful, if not a little solemn and depressing at the same time. The way each individual drop was so weak, and also so very powerful, intrigued her; alone, they could accomplish nothing, but combined, the drops had the power to shift the landscape, creating little rivulets in the gutters and puddles in the streets. Trees that lined the sidewalk sagged under the weight of their collective oppression; oil, previously trapped within the ground, was freed and ran in rainbow colors towards unknown terrain; the transient creations of small animals were washed away.

Ten minutes passed. Twenty. Faith, shivering from the drops of water clinging to her hair and skin, thinking that perhaps it really was the weekend, was about to give up when Buffy, umbrella firmly in hand, came striding out. As usual, her blonde hair was perfectly done up, accenting her dark blue turtleneck sweater and black pants. Just as Faith was about to wave a greeting, her friendly gesture was blocked from view by a dark blue SUV that came skidding around the corner. Amidst a small torrent of spray from the wheels, it came to a stop directly in front of the school. From across the street, Faith recognized Joyce, Buffy's mother, as the driver.

She watched as Buffy closed her umbrella and quickly hopped into the passenger seat only an instant before the sky opened up and turned the drizzle into a downpour. Mother and daughter embraced for a moment and then drove off, neither bothering to glance across the street where a forlorn, brown-haired girl sat by herself in the pouring rain. Hopes crushed and teeth chattering, soaked to the skin with breath coming out in little clouds, Faith stood up, shoved her hands into her jacket pockets, and began the long, desolate walk home.

Vampires fell into step some yards behind her when she was halfway between the school and the motel. With the dark clouds in the sky, the sun ceased to exist, and so the creatures of the night, usually forced underground or inside during the afternoon, were out en masse for lunch. Naturally, Faith was aware of them even before they began trailing her, even though their footfalls were drowned into oblivion by the rain, which would not give up its relentless attack upon Sunnydale. Though she was mostly consumed with her bitter, depressed thoughts, a small part of her mind was always on alert for any sign of trouble, and whatever was behind her right now constituted trouble in a big way.

The only question was: how many were there? Faith, being relatively fearless, usually wouldn't have cared about the odds, but this was different: now she was suicidal. All her rage, all her hate, all her desire to just flat-out destroy had been repressed all day, and now the vampires, probably thinking they were creeping up on a helpless girl, were about to receive a very rude awakening. Having no weapon, no idea of the odds, and not giving a fuck, Faith turned around to face her sworn enemies...And laughed in spite of herself. For there on the sidewalk not ten feet from her, amidst the torrential downpour, stood three male vampires dressed sharply in black outfits. Holding umbrellas.

"What's this?" she asked, the first smile she'd shown in days immediately transforming her unhappy face into something radiant and beautiful. "Could it be'Singin' in the Rain: the Undead'"

This statement caused much confusion amongst the trio, who turned to look at each other in a questioning, perplexed way instead of attacking. The only thing that identified them as vampires were their yellow-hued eyes, nearly inhuman facial expressions, and razor-sharp teeth, but none were smiling at the moment, all still attempting to figure out the insult. Spoiling for a fight, Faith decided to goad them on.

"I didn't know that vampires were afraid of getting wet," she said in a sarcastic tone while taking off her jacket. Already soaked beyond all hope of staying dry, there was no need for it, and it would only impede her movement. Jeans and a short t-shirt weren't the most intimidating items of clothing, but she didn't care. The black tattoo on her right arm stood in stark contrast to the whiteness of her skin, which was exaggerated under the unfriendly sky. "Now are you ready to throw down, or what? Otherwise get the hell out of my sight."

The vampires, able to comprehend this basic insult, snarled and tossed their umbrellas on the grass. It looked as though the fight was to take place in a residential neighborhood, which was not really to Faith's liking. There were no weapons lying about, and the chance that someone might see the battle and subsequently call the cops irritated her, but she'd have to make do. Perhaps directing the carnage towards the middle of the street would diminish the chance of collateral damage to houses, cars, and other private property. Not that she really cared; it was just simpler if she didn't have to explain to anyone why she threw a vampire head-first through a plate-glass window.

The trio, now in full attack mode, encircled the lone girl, who had entered into a fighting stance and was processing all the information as it came to her heightened senses, always prioritizing, judging, and weighing different plans of attack. Just as she sensed that the vampire behind her was about to jump and try for a tackle, Faith smirked and quietly whispered, "Give us a kiss."

Suddenly she was everywhere and nowhere. The vamp who tried for the tackle caught nothing by air as he sailed past and collided with one of his friends. Faith had darted to the left at the last second, avoiding one attack and starting her own upon the third of the trio. She faked a jab, and when the vamp tried to scoot out of the way, he misplaced his footing on the slippery concrete and fell flat on his face. Not one for pity, or to laugh at the ridiculous situation, Faith used the opportunity to kick his head as hard as she could just as he looked up. The tip of her boot connected with his face amidst a spray of red, and he was literally flipped backwards from the sidewalk into the street, where he landed in a crumpled heap. He was going to be down for at least a few moments, enough time for her to engage the other two, who had, in the six seconds that had elapsed since the fight began, recovered from Vamp One's clumsy attack and were now charging straight for her.

Lashing out with a standing side kick to one's chest, she connected and then immediately went on the defensive as the other one came at her with a flurry of punches. Using instinct and fighting prowess honed by hundreds of similar encounters, she succeeded in using her forearms to block all of his attempts. Except one. As she split off a small portion of her awareness to check on the vamp she'd kicked just a second before, the one she was currently engaged with did a feint with his left leg, but threw a right hook instead, catching her directly on the chin.

Faith's head rocked violently backward; she immediately knew that the salty, not-altogether-unpleasant taste in her mouth was her own blood. She staggered back a few feet on the sidewalk, partially because the blow was powerful, but also because she needed to buy some room to breathe. A bit of her blood escaped her mouth and had barely started to run over her lips before the rain swept down and erased the outward signs of her injury. But it couldn't take away the pain. She focused on it, wielding it like a weapon. Pain was a state of mind. Just as with anything worthwhile, it took practice to control, but once Faith had learned to harness its dark energy, she found she could direct it outward with a violence few could survive.

"Mmm, you like it rough, huh?" she taunted, intending to lure him in.

The vampire, completely forgetting the theory of greater numbers, played into Faith's trap and left his friends behind, intending to finish the fight himself. Remaining motionless until the very last moment, she narrowly avoided his punch, and he hit nothing but the ever-present rain. Caught up with his own momentum, he couldn't retract his right arm in time to prevent Faith from grabbing it with both hands, and faster than he could comprehend, she had him on his knees. Standing behind him, she stepped on the back of one of his knees to prevent him from getting up, and wrenched his arm to increase the pain. His friends, seeing that their comrade was in desperate trouble, started to move in, but Faith stopped them with a single word.

"Wait!" she cried. They halted, confused that this girl, soaking wet and bleeding from the mouth, would dare to give them commands. Noting that they had temporarily halted their advance, she used one hand to wipe her hair away from her face while she leaned over the grounded vamp's shoulder. Lowering her voice, she whispered in his ear, "I play rough, too."

And with that, she went into action so fast that none of the vampires knew what was happening until it was too late. Drawing on all her pain, frustration, and hatred, she moved with a speed and power that bespoke of intent not just to injure, but to cripple. Whilst simultaneously using her right hand to pull the vampire's arm backwards, she shot her left palm forward with all of her Slayer strength and connected directly with his elbow, immediately shattering his arm nearly in two.

Time stopped.

Mind ablaze with the pain of an irreparable injury, the vampire couldn't even muster the energy to scream. The seconds ticked by like hours, each one lasting an eternity. Not an eternity of bliss, but one of pure, unmitigated agony. Faith released his mangled arm, and he simply fell forward onto the cold, wet sidewalk. Heavy raindrops, unfeeling and uncaring, relentlessly pelted his prone form from above. But not even the water could drown out his suffering now.

Locking her eyes onto the other two vampires, who were looking with disbelief at the thing that had been their friend just a moment before, she put on her sweetest smile and said, "That must've been wicked painful, don't you think?"

Consumed with hunger and vengeance, they snarled and commenced their attack, but their number advantage had been diminished, and they were now just cattle lined up for Faith's slaughter. Keeping collateral damage in mind, she moved backwards through the perpetual deluge into the middle of the street, which was pitch-black with wetness. The houses on either side of the road stood at mute attention, their blank countenances washed clean by the all-powerful storm.

The first of the two remaining vamps didn't even bother to formulate a strategy; he simply ran full-tilt in the direction of his little brown-eyed enemy. Faith, seeing a clear opportunity to do an immense amount of damage with a few simple maneuvers, waited for the vamp to come within striking distance, and just as he was about to reach out and grab her, she shrugged off his feeble attempt and punched him directly in the solar plexus. He doubled over immediately in response, and Faith took the opportunity to ram her knee straight into his nose, destroying its delicate bone structure. For an instant, a shower of blood joined the rain in its freefall towards the earth, and then it was gone. The vampire, clutching his broken face, stumbled away and fell onto the pavement.

Reaching into his black cloak, the last vampire, in an act of desperation, unsheathed a knife. It shone dully as the rain rebounded from its hardness, seemingly afraid that it would get injured if it came too close. Faith, who had seen much more impressive weapons in her time, wasn't phased.

"Think about what's happened to your friends so far," she told the last vampire as he moved closer, moving the knife as an extension of his own arm. "Do you really think you can stop me?"

Apparently he did, for he lunged for her stomach as soon as she'd finished talking. Darting quickly to the side, she got in a glancing blow to his arm as he passed, intending to make him drop the knife, which, for all her bravado, was not really something she wanted to get to know any better. The vamp held on and spun around, cutting Faith on her upper left arm before she could prevent it. She was familiar with knife cuts; the pain was intense for a moment, but they receded into dull aches soon after. This wasn't a serious cut, but now her blood was flowing freely from the wound, which only heightened the vampire's blood lust. The vividly red current streaming down her arm was interrupted by the omnipresent torrent from the sky so that it traveled not in a neat path, but in a crooked, distorted way that made the wound appear worse than it really was.

The vampire, bolstered by his success on his first pass, came at Faith again, but this time he stayed farther away and just made a stabbing motion instead of a full-on lunge. With too little time to escape the thrust, she was forced to block the knife with her right forearm, which was mostly bone and therefore well-suited to the task, but she still received a nasty laceration several inches long for her troubles. Luckily the top of the forearm contained no arteries, but it was still incredibly painful to have her skin torn in two by the steel.

Furious and bloodied from being stabbed, she decided that it was time to end this fight. Not because she was in danger of passing out from blood loss, but prolonging the fight would only weaken her. The vampire made another thrusting motion, but this time Faith was ready for it, anticipating that he would go for the same attack that had worked so well the first time around. She grabbed his right hand in her left as the knife came again, bringing it to a halt only centimeters away from her chest. With her free right hand, she made a fist and drove it into the side of the vamp's head, causing him to finally release the knife. It fell to the street with a faint, muted clinking sound caused by the abundance of water that had collected there, and Faith kicked it into the gutter, where it was sure to do no more damage. Now the odds were in her favor once more.

Driven back by the punch to his head, the vamp recovered and began to step forward towards Faith once more. In her relaxed fighter's stance, she watched as he swung his left fist in the direction of her face. With a reaction time that put the storm's lightning to shame, she didn't attempt to block the attack, but shot her right arm out instead, where her fist collided with the vampire's. Angry that she'd let the fight go on for so long, angry that she'd been stabbed, and angry that she hadn't even killed anyone yet, she put all of her energy into the punch, and she was rewarded with a satisfying snapping sound that came from the vamp's hand as some of his fingers were crushed. He made a sound like a wounded animal, immediately retracting his arm so that it was safely out of Faith's reach. Her hand recoiled from the impact as well, but she didn't sustain any broken bones.

Pushing her advantage, she gave herself fully over to her dark, violent desires and charged ahead recklessly, knowing that her opponent now only had one good arm to fight back with. Easily brushing aside the initial punch that the vampire threw at her out of sheer desperation, she snap-kicked his face with her boot. A small explosion of blood accompanied this impact, and he fell and rolled into the gutter, which was overflowing with rain water.

The vamp attempted to get up, but Faith was on him before he could even make it to his knees. After delivering a swift kick to his ribcage to ensure that he stayed down for a moment, she went in search of the knife that she had previously kicked somewhere in the area. She found it drowning in the gutter beneath a swift little stream of water that was quickly running towards the ocean, being sustained by constant additions to its minute power from up above, where the sky, unhappily looking down with regret at the battle below, was pouring out its lamentations with a fury.

Knife firmly in hand, Faith walked purposefully over to the last remaining vampire's shuddering form and roughly hauled him to his feet, swinging her free arm around his neck to keep him from attacking. Standing behind him, in a position of total control, she took the knife and positioned it directly in the center of his back. Before delivering the final, ending strike, she thought she should at least utter a few parting words.

"Game over," she said, and with that, she shoved the knife deep into the vampire's back, where it severed his spinal cord cleanly in two. He went slack in her grip immediately after, all commands from his brain to his limbs unable to find access to the correct pathway. The impalement wouldn't kill him, as it wasn't sunlight, or a stake through the heart, but even vampires needed a spinal column, and this vampire was now sorely lacking one. Yanking the knife free, a fountain of blood erupted from the wound, coating Faith's white shirt in dark, scarlet gore.

Two minutes had passed since the fight began. Breathing heavily from all the exertion she'd just put herself through, she was letting the rain- and blood-spattered body fall to the ground just as a pair of headlights entered her field of view. The vehicle was still perhaps a quarter of a mile away, but it looked as though it was heading right for her. Looking around helplessly for a place to temporarily stash her abnormal enemies, lest the driver want to get a closer look at the three bodies that littered the drenched street and sidewalks, she was disappointed to find that the plain, suburban neighborhood held yards that were all subject to such a cookie-cutter similarity that none offered anything in the way of a decent hiding place.

Resigned that there was nothing she could possibly do, she tossed the knife onto a lawn and awaited the vehicle's approach. There was blood everywhere: it ran in rivulets in the street and on the sidewalks, it dripped off of Faith's arms, and her t-shirt and jeans were completely covered in it. The vampire with the shattered arm lay on the opposing sidewalk, curled up in a fetal position. The second one, with the broken nose, was more or less right in the middle of the street, still holding his face in his hands as if afraid that the rain might wash it away if he removed them. And the third, permanently immobile, was on his back right at Faith's feet, a pool of blood so large collecting underneath him that even the rain was having a hard time sweeping it away.

Her hair was matted to her head from the amount of water it had absorbed. She absentmindedly pulled it back, away from her face. The punch she'd taken to her jaw had left no visible mark; she healed abnormally fast with her Slayer gifts. Her arms, however, were another story. They were still bleeding profusely, and the rain wasn't helping any by keeping the cuts eternally wet. She tried to wipe them clean on her shirt, but the blood, not to be denied, rose up and went dribbling down her arms a moment later.

Lightning flashed somewhere along the horizon, but its brilliance was overwhelmed by the headlights that were now shining directly into Faith's eyes. The vehicle had come to a screeching halt about fifteen feet from where the carnage began. She couldn't tell what kind it was because the headlights were so bright that everything behind them seemed bizarrely dark. Roundly projecting their beams, they illuminated the rain, which was coming down in heavy sheets, and they made the blood on Faith's white shirt appear that much more inflamed.

For a tense, drawn out moment, no one got out to ask why a waterlogged, bloodstained, wounded girl was standing on the side of the road with three bodies strewn about, but finally, a door opened and a figure stepped out of the passenger side. Still having a hard time seeing past the headlights and the rain, all she saw was an umbrella open before the unknown figure identified itself by its voice.

"Faith? Is that you?"

Buffy Summers.

Completely relieved that it was only Buffy and not some nosy, do-right citizen out to fill her life with meaningless questions, Faith let out the breath that she hadn't even realized she'd been holding. Maybe Buffy could spare a second to help her finish off the vamps, and then, if she was lucky, she could hitch a ride in Joyce's SUV back to the motel, where she would definitely need a hot shower and some bandages for her arms.

"Buffy, I'm so glad that you---" she began.

"What do you think you're doing?" interrupted Buffy, moving to stand in front of the headlights. Illuminated from behind, her outline nearly glowed, almost as if she were something divine and not merely a human being. The little black umbrella easily shunted away the rain, keeping her nice and dry while Faith stood soaking and bleeding in the street. "Did you even think about how many people could've seen you?"

Faith, confused as to why Buffy was so displeased with her, didn't know how to respond to this. "Look, B.," she started again, "these guys pretty much jumped me, but I tried my best to---"

"I don't care," Buffy broke in again. Her mouth, able to give such a charming smile, was turned down in a frown of disappointment and condemnation. "Maybe you should try to take some responsibility for your actions once in a while. For a Slayer you're far too reckless."

In disbelief that Buffy was not offering help and comfort, but criticisms and condescending looks instead, Faith tried once more to dispel the animosity that was coming her way.

"I know I probably could've handled the situation better, and I'm sorry, but---"

"Sorry doesn't cut it."

Unable to take any more abuse, Faith's willpower snapped and she screamed, "What the fuck do you want from me!?" Why was this happening to her? Had she really done something wrong? On the verge of tears, shaking from the cold, exhaustion, and blood loss, she didn't know what to say that could make the situation any better. "I tried my best to do what you would've done! I tried to make sure that no one saw us!" Her mouth began to quiver and tears were welling up in the corners of her eyes. She wrapped her bloody arms around herself for the minimal warmth they would provide against the pitiless rain, which suddenly seemed much harsher than it ever had before. Close to a complete breakdown, her voice lost its angry edge and became subdued to such an extent that it could barely be heard over the downpour. "What more could I have done?"

Buffy, unmoved by this display of emotion, locked her eyes with Faith's and said in a remorseless tone, "I just guess you can never be what I thought you could be."

A single, solitary tear fell from Faith's eyes as she heard this cruel remark. It was immediately swept away to join the billions of other drops of water that were falling to the ground. Amidst the others, it was insignificant. Worthless. Wretched.

"And what can't I be?" she asked, purposefully setting herself up for even more pain. The sky, almost completely raven-colored due to the hellish clouds above, reflected the inner depths of her being, black and twisted from the torture she was enduring at the hands of the one person in the world that she had considered to be her friend.

"You want to know what you can never be?" Buffy asked, secure under the protection of her umbrella. "A friend I can have faith in." She paused a moment to let these vicious words sink in. "Now clean up this mess." And with that, she started to walk towards the still-open passenger door.

Her body racked with sobs, Faith made one final attempt, a last act of desperation. Reaching out her arm towards the girl that had just renounced their friendship, hoping against hope that this was just some terrible dream, she fought to raise her voice above the deafening sound of the rain striking the pavement. "Buffy!" she cried.

The door slammed.

Faith caught one last glimpse of Buffy's stoic face as it flashed by in the window, and then there was only the dull glow of taillights fading into the distance. Full of despair beyond the telling of it, unbidden tears streaming with abandon down her pretty face, her eyes flashed to the knife that was still sitting complacently on the lawn. Slowly picking it up from the saturated grass, she went and drove it into the first vampire her gaze fell upon. She didn't intend to keep stabbing, but all she saw in the vampire's pained expression was Buffy. On her knees, no longer able to stand, she drove the knife again and again and again into him until the face she associated with Buffy was so mangled and deformed that she had no more strength to lift her arm.

Overcome with a pain that she never knew she could feel, Faith grabbed the vampire's hair with one hand and severed its head from its neck with the knife that she clutched in the other. The body turned to dust instantly and the rain quickly pounded it into oblivion. Her injured arms forgotten amidst the anger seething in her mind, she moved onto the next vampire and stabbed it just as she had done to the first. Over and over the knife entered and exited its body, slicing the flesh into ragged, bloody ribbons, until she decapitated it and moved on to the final one, where she repeated this process for the last time.

Letting the knife slip from her trembling hand, she let her grief wash over her in a great wave. Lying on the sidewalk, surrounded by the blood from the vampires and from her own body, Faith cried.

Thunder rumbled somewhere in the distance, but she didn't hear it. All she heard in her head were Buffy's last words: "You know what you can never be? A friend I can have faith in." Raindrops, not caring about her feelings, hit her over and over from above, while the sky, looking down on this pathetic sight, felt nothing and continued to pummel the poor, sobbing form with all of its relentless power.

Sometime later, in a daze, Faith finally stumbled into her motel room, soaking wet and eyes red from crying. Her arms had finally stopped bleeding; all that was left were two unsightly scarlet gashes that defaced her otherwise perfectly white skin. Unable to stop shivering from her prolonged exposure to the elements, she shut the door and quietly crawled under her covers, wet clothes and all. It wasn't long before she fell into a fitful, nightmare-ridden sleep.

Her favorite black jacket, forgotten long ago on the lawns of the residential neighborhood, was eventually picked up and thrown into the garbage by a homeowner.

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