Fanfiction: Faithless
CHAPTER FOUR: HUNGER
The weeks drifted by, and Faith carefully nursed her anger, keeping it alive and hiding it away deep within herself. She gradually stopped pretending that she could fit into the "good girl" persona that Buffy so haughtily adhered to. Naturally, Buffy and the Scoobies suspected nothing; had they given Faith's new demeanor a second thought, they might have found it odd, this transformation from insecurity into confidence. But they took it at face value, thinking that Faith was just trying to cover up her previous social miscalculations by appearing tougher, forcing herself to be less vulnerable to the alienating world around her. In a sense, this was true; build a shell, watch the world struggle and fail to get in. However, Faith's shell wasn't just designed to be a defense. It was created to be a weapon.
From now on, her world wouldn't be the attacker. Her "friends" wouldn't hurt her anymore. Everyone and everything was responsible. Everyone and everything would suffer.
As spring meandered its way towards summer, Faith grew bolder, more reckless. On patrols, she took chances that Buffy found incomprehensible, showing blatant disregard for the odds and for her own life. Buffy, perhaps not wanting to seem scared, perhaps out of some lingering maternal instinct, was subsequently pulled into situations that almost ended in catastrophe on a nightly basis. Faith had turned Buffy into a sidekick, taking charge of the Slaying duties in Buffy's own town. In addition, she began monopolizing Buffy's time, constantly coming up with some vampire- or demon-related incident that need to be attended to, a tactic that made the other Scoobies, and especially Willow, jealous beyond words. Buffy was supposed to be their friend! What gave Faith the right?
It didn't matter. Faith did what she wanted when she wanted, and no one was going to try to tell her otherwise.
She stepped up her training sessions, working longer, harder, faster, pushing her body to its limits and beyond. Hand-to-hand combat techniques were only the beginning: she began studying weapons-based fighting more and more, eager to make herself as proficient as possible in every aspect of battle. Push-ups, sit-ups, long distance runs, and sprints became a daily regimen, all done away from the prying eyes of the Scoobies. They couldn't know about this buildup of knowledge and power, this metamorphosis into something more dangerous than anything Sunnydale had ever known: a Slayer with complete disregard for authority and herself, a girl who could violently explode given the slightest provocation.
The afternoon sun was filtering in through the open window, accompanied by a tranquilly warm California breeze that entered the motel room via the open door. Faith was occupied with a new magazine that she'd found on the sidewalk a few days earlier. It wasn't the most current issue, but at least she hadn't read it before. She sat on the side of the bed, her feet dangling off, flipping through the pages, paying no attention to the world that continued to spin right outside her room. Figures and cars passed by, but she didn't notice, only looking up once or twice to glance at the new alarm clock she'd stolen from the local electronics store. Its digital, green numbers told her that it was almost three o'clock. Time to call Buffy. Today was Saturday, meaning that the entire Scooby gang would most likely be free for a dangerous adventure in the evening, and Faith had the perfect mission in mind. For days, she'd been keeping tabs on a constantly growing group of vampires that were making one of the abandoned warehouses down by the docks their official meeting ground. Numbering somewhere between five and ten vamps, the group was not prone to making indiscreet kills in public, which was most likely why Buffy hadn't discovered them yet. Instead, they usually managed to lure some hapless individual to the warehouse, where that person obviously bought the farm. Even Faith knew that she couldn't take on anything more than four or five vamps by herself, so she needed Buffy's help for this job. But that didn't mean that she couldn't toss the rest of the Scoobies into the mix and watch the fun ensue. Plus, besides being a good spot of violence, this was another perfect opportunity to distance Buffy from her friends; if the Scoobies couldn't defend themselves adequately, Buffy would probably exclude them from dangerous demon-related activities in the future.
It was a good, solid plan, and Faith was pleased with herself for thinking of it. It was another opportunity to get even without openly seeming vengeful. Perfect. She still hadn't found any other friends to hang around with, and thus her dependence on the Scooby gang for entertainment, but she felt that there must be at least a few people in Sunnydale who would value her as a friend-or an ally-she just had to find them.
Tossing the magazine aside, she reached over and grabbed the phone, which looked like a leftover from the eighties with its antiquated taupe rotary dial. Faith hated taupe. It wasn't black, white, brown, or any other easily discernible color. It just-was. And what it was was ugly. But at least it worked, unlike her TV set, on the fritz again, the second time in as many weeks. She forgot about the TV as she slowly dialed Buffy's number. Lying back down on her bed, she stared at the blank ceiling as the phone rang. C'mon, Buffy. Pick up the damn phone. It continued to ring. And ring. Pick-up-the-phone!
"Hello?"
I'm psychic!
"Hey, B. It's Faith." There were no pleasantries to discuss; she skipped right to the point. "Still up for a little crash n' kill tonight?"
Slight pause. "Sure."
"Good. Wanna bring the rest of the group, too?" No answer. "It'll be fun." Silence. Faith's voice became slightly harder, irritated with the lack of communication. "Don't forget we've got a job to do; we're Slayers, and it's time we did some slaying. So, what do you say?"
"All right," came Buffy's voice, sounding slightly wary.
"Aaaaaannnnnnnndddd, we're bringing the group, right?"
"Only if you promise that it won't be too dangerous for them."
"I'm sure it'll be pretty tame." Yeah, right. If 'tame' is defined as 'horribly violent.'
"Okay then."
"Good!" So gullible, B. You should watch that. "How does midnight near the Bronze sound?"
"That's fine, we'll be there."
"Sounds like a plan. See ya, B."
Without waiting for Buffy to reply, Faith hung up the phone and pushed it over the edge of the bed, listening to it clatter and rattle as it hit the floor. She didn't care if it broke. If it did, she could always just steal another.
Faith stood silently in the shadows yards away from the Bronze, watching pathetic existences come and go, people looking for a laugh, a drink, a date. This time, she'd wanted to arrive before the Scoobies, and since she had no watch, she didn't know the exact time, but judging from the height of the wan moon, she figured it must be nearly midnight. Purposefully cloaking herself, unseen by others, she kept watch on the ridiculous social charade that was unfolding before her eyes. In the past, she had gained a small measure of satisfaction from visiting Sunnydale's most popular nighttime hangout, but nowadays she only felt revulsion when she thought of the happy, carefree people inside. Their lives, though she knew that they were not without certain complications, were not like hers. They didn't have sacred professions which caused immense solitude and loneliness, and therefore they couldn't understand her pain.
A small group of friends walked within a few feet of Faith's hiding spot, and she shrank back, pressing flat against the wall. No one even noticed that she was there, completely enshrouded in darkness, not unlike her thoughts, which were focused on the impending violence that was sure to come. On this night she hadn't even bothered with typical evening wear. The always-present black boots, some dark blue jeans, and a small, black t-shirt completed the ensemble. She had no one to impress, and besides, dressing to impress was overrated. Trying to stay in a person's good graces depended on something more than a worthless first impression or outward appearance.
Apparently, it depends on lies. But that's why you're so good at it, right, B?
Looking down the alley, she noticed Buffy and the rest of her friends approaching, furtively searching for any sign that Faith had already arrived. There was Buffy, looking almost sinister in some black pants with a black leather coat that came down to her thighs, and Willow, in her bright red overalls-What an appropriate choice to fight vampires. What the hell are you thinking?-and Xander completed the trio in a dark sweater and faded jeans. Wait. One-two-three. Oh, damn it. This was not good. Where were Angel and Oz? Without them, the overall chances of actually coming out of the fight without serious injuries would be drastically reduced. Angel was akin to an additional Slayer, and Oz was usually fairly competent with a crossbow, but Xander and Willow were going to be of almost no help against an entire cadre of vampires. That left Buffy and Faith to not only fend off the vamps, but also to keep Xander and Willow from getting killed.
Because although Faith hated to admit it, the Scoobies were all she had. If some of them died, she would feel at least a little guilty for leading them into a hopeless melee, and besides, they were still quasi-friends of hers, not enemies. Not yet. As they approached, Faith slid out of the shadows into the center of the alley, furious that her plans were ruined.
"What happened to Oz and Angel?" she asked, neglecting to offer a standard greeting.
"Nice to see you, too," Xander said, with just a bit too much sarcasm. Faith recognized and ignored it.
Willow, looking slightly unsure of herself, started to explain: "Oz had a show to play on the other side of town tonight." She glanced over at Buffy, trying to get her to continue by telling of Angel's whereabouts.
Noticing this unsubtle gesture, Buffy said, "Angel was in the mood for some brooding on this fine evening. I've been trying to drag him out of the mansion more often, and I think he's used up his 'Adventure Meter' for a few nights." With this explanation, the Scoobies all turned to look at Faith, waiting for her to lead them to the battle.
She looked at the ground and shuffled her feet for a second. Feeling a bit insecure with putting the two non-Slayers against such terrible odds, she tried to dissuade them from coming. "You know, I think this whole thing might've been a bad idea, especially without Angel and Oz to back us up. It could get ugly if it's only going to be us four."
Xander immediately looked offended, but he quickly masked it. "What are you talking about? We can handle ourselves!" He proceeded to launch into a voice filled with bravado. "In fact, wherever there is injustice, you will find us. Wherever there is suffering, we'll be there. Wherever-"
His spiel was interrupted when Buffy gave him a nudge, nearly knocking him over onto Willow, who was trying to keep from laughing. Faith wasn't amused, trying to work out the logistics of the fight in her head.
"What's the problem?" Buffy asked. "You said it wouldn't be that dangerous."
Caught in her own lie, Faith sought a way out. "Maybe there're more of them now. I could've underestimated or something, you know?" Her voice, slowly losing its authoritative overtones, softened in an effort to persuade, not order. "It might be stupid to just charge in there."
Buffy shrugged her shoulders ambivalently. "That's true, but Willow and Xander wanted to come tonight. No one forced them. And they can handle themselves."
"Are you sure about that?" Faith said, raising one of her eyebrows and casting a discerning eye over the pair, standing close together slightly away from Buffy.
"Hey, what are you implying?" Willow sounded hurt that Faith would suggest such a thing. "Xander and I have seen our fair share of demon-fighting." Her resolve faltered just a bit. "Right?" she asked, looking towards Xander.
"Right, Wil," he added. He shot his gaze towards Faith. "We go where Buffy goes."
"That's original," Faith returned, miffed that they were disagreeing. "Don't forget that you two aren't even-"
"Okay," Buffy interrupted, trying to keep the peace, "I think that everyone needs to calm down." No one said anything else, but the tension hadn't abated. This didn't bother Buffy, who looked like she was trying to make up her mind about the situation. Her lips were pursed, and she kept moving her eyes back and forth from Xander and Willow to Faith. "I think," she slowly started, "that Faith might have a point here." Xander looked like he was about to argue, but Buffy continued before he could get a word in. "I know you guys wanted to come with us tonight, and I appreciate that, but-this isn't your fight."
Willow was staring at the ground, hurt that Buffy was rejecting her help. Likewise, Xander was also hurt, but he was staring directly at Faith, the one who was stealing Buffy away. Faith openly met his gaze, a small smirk upon her face, and she continued to unflinchingly do so until he broke the contest off, defeated. He put his arm around Willow's shoulders, and they started to walk down the dark alley.
"I'll call you guys tomorrow!" Buffy said, trying to bolster their spirits. They didn't respond, sullenly trudging away. Aw, now look at what you've done, B! You made the Scooby gang all sad! Bad, bad girl.
"Don't worry about them," Faith said, turning to Buffy. "I'm sure they'll have fun doing-uh-whatever it is they do when they aren't with you. Scrabble or Monopoly or whatever. In the meantime, we should head over to the docks. Ready?" Without Buffy's tag-a-longs, the odds were once again in the Slayers' favor. Each of them could handle probably four vamps apiece, thus ensuring a victory, though it would most likely be a hard-fought one. The odds weren't the biggest concern anymore; Faith just needed to fight. She'd been looking forward to it all night, and unless she got that release, she would be very upset.
Buffy gave one last look down the alley where her friends were disappearing around a corner. "Yeah, I guess. Let's go." And with that, the two Slayers turned and walked in the opposite direction towards the docks, Buffy thinking about her friends, Faith silently preparing herself for killing anything that awaited them in the warehouse.
"Oh-fuck."
Awaiting Buffy and Faith in the warehouse was a group of twelve vampires, not the smaller amount that Faith had anticipated. Recklessly kicking in the door, Faith had been the first to stumble upon the unwelcome discovery, and she still couldn't believe how many vamps were looking her way, fangs bared and eyes cold. She stood a few feet from the shattered door, unsure of what to do. Looking over her shoulder at Buffy, she forced herself to calm down.
"Well, at least there's more for us to kill, right?" she asked as Buffy tossed her a stake. Faith deftly grabbed it out of the air, and then Buffy was at her side, stake out, ready for action. Neither would retreat, so both would fight. Each would have to face six vamps at once, some of the worst odds they'd ever had. The vamps were organizing themselves into a loose circle that was slowly starting to close around the Slayers.
"It could be worse," Buffy nonchalantly added, eager to give the vamps the impression that she didn't consider them a viable threat. "At least they have a decent fashion sense. Cordelia might even be proud."
At this remark, all the vampires looked down at themselves, apparently trying to discover why their clothing choice warranted such praise, which it didn't; it was just supposed to be a diversion so-
"Screw this!" Faith said, throwing her stake into the heart of the vamp directly across from her. It impaled him cleanly through the heart, and his unhappy grimace quickly disappeared into a pile of dust.
Everything went to hell after that.
Eleven remaining vampires snarled and closed in, almost immediately separating Buffy from Faith, who didn't have a replacement stake for the one she'd thrown. A jungle of metal and wood, the warehouse was an extremely hazardous arena to do battle in. Flickering yellow light bulbs hung from the ceiling, casting the entire interior in a deranged, alien glow. Their weak, pulsating rays didn't do much in the way of illuminating the huge warehouse, one that was nearly two stories high and roughly half a football field long. Areas behind the larger containers were completely covered in shadows, and even the open spaces uncluttered by wooden boxes or steel crates were only vaguely visible. A complete lack of windows didn't help matters; even the decrepit moonlight would've made things easier for the girls, who didn't possess the vampires' ability to see clearly in almost total darkness.
Six vamps went after Faith, herding her away from Buffy and into the depths of the warehouse. Buffy, dealing with five of her own, saw what was happening but couldn't really do anything about it. She decided to stick closer to the door, using the wall to her advantage. One less direction that the vamps could come from.
Faith didn't have even Buffy's rudimentary tactical plan. Forced into playing defense, sidestepping backward while blocking punches and kicks that came in from all sides, she slowly got lost amidst the shipping crates and nearly tripped on two different occasions over the debris lining the floor. She tried to get a bead on the group attacking her, finally discovering that it consisted of four males and two females after she threw one of the males into the others, toppling them all for a short, priceless moment. Quickly taking in her surroundings, her foot brushed up against a thick, metal rod, and she immediately picked it up, feeling its comforting weight. Not a stake, so it wouldn't kill-but it could cripple.
The vampires regrouped and started back in, but they backed off when Faith swung the long staff in a wide arc directly in front of them, creating a loud whoosh sound with the speed at which it was traveling. She reined it in and stood still, poised to attack the first one to come within range of her new weapon, hearing snarls and crashes of bodies against steel from Buffy's fight while she waited. One of the males made his move, and Faith missed him with the staff as he rolled under it, suddenly appearing behind her, in perfect position to trap her between himself and his undead companions.
"We've got a rocket scientist on our hands, huh?" she taunted, gauging the distance to the tall container on her left side. As another male broke off from the main group, Faith made her decision, swinging the rod upward and catching him right beneath the jaw. A sickening crunching accompanied a spray of blood and tooth fragments, and he fell to his knees as his friend, still behind Faith, closed in. Registering the attack, she jumped straight for the container, planted her left foot on its surface, and came around with a vicious right roundhouse kick directly to the side of the vamp's head, flipping him onto the ground. She tried to follow up the successful kick by slamming the rod onto him while he was down, but he somehow maneuvered away on his hands and knees, rejoining the others. Almost no time had elapsed, only a few seconds at most, and the vamp with the broken jaw was still on his knees, clutching at his ravaged mouth. Not in the mood to take prisoners, Faith put all her power into a baseball-like swing and put the metal staff right into his face. Amidst a loud clanging, his head seemed to crumple, and he fell backwards, where he stayed motionless, permanently out of the fight. She backed up slightly, twirling the rod with one hand, motioning to the remaining vampires with the other. "Come on," she smiled, "I just know you can do better than that."
Dispensing with the individual approach, they all came at her at once, intending to overwhelm her with sheer numbers. She ducked a flying kick from one of the females, but this allowed one of the males to land a solid punch to the side of her head. Keeping a firm grasp on her metal weapon, she rolled with the blow, lessening its overall impact and giving her a few extra feet of breathing room. Now the group of four was positioned to her right, with the other female vamp on her left. Out of the corner of her eye, Faith saw a male vamp come in low for a sweeping kick, and she jumped over it, intending to bring down the rod across his exposed head, but the lone female used Faith's mid-air vulnerability to deliver a powerful standing kick to her midsection, sending her flying into one of the immovable metal crates. As she felt her back crash against the heavy steel, she momentarily lost her grip on the staff, enough time for one of the male vamps to steal it away and bring it down heavily right over Faith's shoulders. Completely unprepared and thus unable to shunt the pain away, Faith made a little cry and fell to her hands and knees. Her entire back was radiating with pain, but she wouldn't give in to it. She raised her head defiantly as she struggled to get up, but all she got was a kick to the face for her efforts, pushing her up against the crate once more.
The five vampires were smiling, amazed that a Slayer had been so easy to injure. Faith brought her hand to her face and wiped away the blood that was trickling from her nose. In the gloom of the warehouse, it looked almost black. She focused her mind on using the pain to fuel her anger, and the vampires stopped grinning as she used the metal container to aid her slow ascent back to her feet. For a moment, the bloodied, brown-haired girl and the five vampires just stared at each other, but it didn't last long. The one vamp with the staff came in, feeling secure that he had a weapon in his hands, aiming a high swing at Faith's head. Barely ducking the attack, Faith rolled forward and put her strength into a single punch to the vamp's midsection, doubling him over. Then she was immediately on her feet, delivering a swift, brutal uppercut to his face, a blow that caused him not only to fall to the ground, but also to release the staff. Faith, seething with rage, just left it on the ground and charged directly towards the four remaining vamps.
For about thirty seconds, she traded punches and blocks with the group, giving just as much pain as she got in return, until the numbers game caught up with her once more. The male who had been leveled by the uppercut, unseen by Faith, busy as she was with the others, grabbed the metal rod and once more connected with her back, sending her sprawling to the ground. As Faith struggled to get up, he jabbed the staff into her ribs, causing her to cry out in pain again as she fell back to the floor. She could feel that another similar strike would probably snap one of her ribs, and as it was, her entire side was aching, laboring her breathing. The other vamps, mercifully without weapons, swept in, snarling and growling out their rage against Faith, who was forced to curl up into a fetal position to minimize the damage. Punches and kicked rained down in a never-ending shower of violence. But then the pain stopped, and Faith looked up, just in time to see one of the females slam a large wooden crate directly onto her head, shattering the box into numerous jagged fragments. Faith's head hit the dusty concrete and blood ran in a little pulsing stream down her forehead and into her eyes, clouding her vision in a demonic red haze. She vaguely heard the vampires laughing as she lay on the ground bleeding. Her blood was everywhere: on her forehead, in her eyes, running out of her nose and over her lips. She closed her eyes, trying to focus, listening to the taunts that the vampires were throwing her way.
Suddenly her eyes opened again, their hazel gaze focusing on the shattered box. Faith reached out and wrenched a jagged piece free. As the vampires watched in awe, she took her stake in one hand and used the other to get to her feet. The laughter died. How could anyone, let alone a teenage girl, be standing after such a terrible beating? It should've been impossible, and even Faith didn't know how she was able to do it. She was so battered that she was beyond thinking; she could only feel. And her feelings were small flashes of hate-pain-death.
One of the males, probably the leader, said, "What are you waiting for? Get her!" None of the other vamps made a motion to do as he requested. They were all staring at the bloody, vengeful Slayer in front of them. Like a wounded animal, they'd only made Faith more visceral, heightening her naturally violent nature to terrible proportions.
"Why don't you come get me yourself?" she asked, spitting some blood on the ground while raising her stake. Every word she spoke flashed pain directly to her brain, but she kept on talking anyway, partially ignoring the pain, partially harnessing it. "That is-if you've got the balls."
Growling, his pride hurt, the leader approached and launched into a complicated series of punches and kicks. Faith blocked the majority of the blows, but some got inside her defenses and connected with her head or midsection. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered. She saw through the blood that burned her eyes, and she saw her opening as the vamp decided to throw a left hook. She blocked the blow and simultaneously grabbed his arm, and when he swung with his right hand, trying to free himself, Faith caught that arm, too. For an instant, she looked right into his inhuman eyes, and then she delivered a head butt to his nose, shattering the fragile bone structure. He thrashed wildly in pain, and Faith let him go, only to drive the stake into his unbeating heart a second later. A cloud of dust showed the faint outline of his skeletal structure in the murky, yellow light, and then he was gone forever, another casualty of Faith's vendetta against the world.
But she wasn't finished. The others, enraged that their leader had been killed, charged in haphazardly, forgetting to choose any particular tactic. Faith used their carelessness to her advantage, acting totally on instinct and losing herself in the sheer pleasure of destroying her enemies. The female vamp that'd smashed the crate over Faith's head was the quickest to close in, and her opening attack was a standard side kick, intended to cause damage to Faith's already injured ribcage. Faith stepped back in response, just out of reach of the kick, and she grabbed the vamp's foot as it came within reach. Holding it tight in her left hand, Faith winked at the female and drove the stake directly into the vamp's ankle with her right hand, breaking the bones into several pieces as the sharpened wood passed cleanly through them. The female howled in pain, and Faith let her drop to the floor. Without a way to stand, that vamp was useless, and thus out of the fight. Faith knew that she could've easily made a clean kill instead of putting the stake in the vamp's ankle, but she didn't care. Now she was out for blood, and dusting wasn't enough payback for what the vampires had done to her. They had to suffer as she had suffered. They would feel her pain a thousand times over. They would be mangled and torn, ripped to shreds.
There were only three vamps remaining, one female and two males. The trio stayed close together, not wanting to be defeated as individual entities, but as a group. Hovering just outside the range of the pathetically flickering light bulb, they moved in a circle, keeping a safe distance away from Faith, who watched their every move with a contemptuous eye. Faith took a step towards them; they took one step back. Slayer forward. Vampires backward. Realizing the futility of playing cat and mouse, Faith dropped her stake to the ground.
"There," she told the vamps, motioning towards the stake, "now I've got no weapon. So get your undead asses over here and fight." The trio didn't move. Then they started to slowly back away, but Faith stopped them, pointing at their escape route. "Do not make me chase you." They moved unsurely forward, recovering their lost ground.
One of the two remaining males, apparently without any cue whatsoever, suddenly broke free and charged Faith's position. Finally. She watched and waited, noting the ever-decreasing distance between him and her. At the last possible instant, she darted to the side, grabbed the vamp by his jacket, and used his own momentum to toss him face-first into an unforgiving pile of metal tubing. He was only fazed for an instant, and he quickly recovered, hoisting one of the metal pipes in his hands. Making an initial feint, he tricked Faith into blocking a blow that never came, and instead he swung it diagonally downward, where it cracked against Faith's left knee, causing her to fall to the ground. She managed to block his next swing with her forearm, but the metal still ricocheted painfully off her exposed skin. Before the vamp could attack again, Faith swept him off his feet with a low kick. His metal weapon clattered to the ground and rolled away, and instantly Faith was on top of him, punching his face with all the energy she could muster, until the last male vamp interfered, jerking Faith backwards and onto the concrete floor. She hit with a thud that nearly drove the breath out of her, but she didn't stay down for long, scrambling to her knees in order to block a roundhouse kick that was aimed for her head. Though she blocked it successfully, the impact nearly toppled her over, and the vamp pressed his advantage, trying for a spin kick. Faith ducked, watching the vamp spin until his back was facing her, and then she leapt up and caught him in a choke hold. Savagely wrenching her hands to the side, Faith snapped his neck. Immobile, but not dead, he fell to the ground in a pathetic heap.
She heard some commotion behind her and looked up as the two remaining vamps, one female and one male, ran in the general direction of the door where Faith and Buffy had originally come in.
Shit.
Faith, after picking up her stake and dusting the injured vamps on the ground, started after the duo, limping from the damage done to her knee, bleeding from a dozen different wounds, and pissed off beyond belief. After a few minutes of getting lost in between the enormous shipping crates, she finally emerged into the main foyer, where Buffy, stake in hand, was holding off the cowardly duo that was still attempting to run through the open door. Faith watched as the female tried to make a dash for freedom, but she only got a kick to the side of the head for her troubles. The male went around the other side, apparently not caring about his companion's fate, but Buffy stopped him with a series of punches, followed up by a snap kick that flipped the vamp upside down and onto a wooden box, which promptly shattered. Watching Buffy fight with the two vampires, Faith felt like she could never win. Her plan had been a complete failure; Buffy was nearly spotless, so she'd obviously encountered little resistance from her set of five enemies. Faith looked down at herself, at her ripped clothes and bloody hands, and a sense of shame washed over her.
Buffy threw the female vampire in Faith's direction, and Faith halfheartedly staked her in the heart with minimum effort. As Buffy was finishing up with the final vamp, Faith dropped her stake to the ground and started limping for the door, not wanting Buffy to see how badly she'd been hurt. Of course, Buffy noticed where Faith was heading, and she decisively finished off the last vampire, turning to follow Faith out the door and into the warm summer night.
"Faith!" Buffy called, trailing a few steps behind. "Wait up."
Faith didn't stop, limping onward down the docks, head hung low. Buffy picked up the pace and caught up. She tried to make Faith look her in the eye, but Faith would have none of it, staring at the ground, occasionally wiping some blood from her still-raw cuts.
"Hey, are you okay?" Buffy asked as they continued towards town.
Faith shot her a resentful look, but said nothing in return. She hated everything about Buffy and wasn't in the mood to talk.
"Some fight, huh?" said Buffy, still trying to make conversation.
"Yeah. Whatever," was all that Faith muttered in return.
"Looks like you took a pretty bad beating."
"Congratulations, you noticed," Faith sarcastically replied. "Looks like the beating passed you by."
Buffy's temper flared. "That's not fair. Just because I know how to handle myself in a fight-"
"Shut up, B. I'm sick of your shit."
"Is there a reason why you say things like that? What's your problem, Faith?"
Faith stopped in her tracks and finally looked Buffy in the eye. Buffy had to keep from wincing at Faith's appearance. She'd rarely seen anyone get so torn up in a fight. Faith didn't seem to notice, only intent on staring at Buffy.
"My problem is you," she finally answered. There wasn't even a hint of regret in the statement. Buffy, not expecting such brutal honesty, had no reply. "You, Buffy, the perfect Slayer, the one who never fails, the one who gets the little Scooby gang, the one who's the center of attention. You think you're so righteous-but you don't know anything." Faith was still staring straight at Buffy, refusing to let Buffy look away.
"What did I do to deserve that?" Buffy asked, looking somewhat hurt.
Faith made a condescending noise. "That's your problem, Buffy. You should know the answer to that question, but you don't, do you? Well think about it. Think about it really hard." Buffy stared at the ground, refusing to meet Faith's gaze any longer. Faith laughed a little to herself, looked down the street, wiped some more blood from her forehead, and mockingly said, "Have a good night, B." Then she started off down the road, and Buffy watched her limp for a few yards before running up and grabbing her shoulder.
"Faith," she began, "look, I'm sorry-"
"No, you're not." Faith didn't even turn around to acknowledge Buffy's presence. "Now take your hand off me."
"But-"
"Now."
This was said with such finality that Buffy took her hand away instantly, afraid that Faith would go berserk if she didn't comply. Faith resumed her walk back towards her hotel, limping and leaving a little trail of blood in a sporadic pattern on the pavement. Buffy gave up, silently stood alone in the street, and watched Faith disappear into the dark horizon.
EPILOGUE: VILIFICATION
"You don't know what you're doing," Buffy said.
Faith, sitting on a low table within Angel's mansion, peered over at Buffy, who was chained to the wall. "Really? Weird," she replied, getting to her feet, "'cause something about all this just feels so right."
In the short span of a few weeks since the encounter with the vamps in the warehouse, things had gone from bad to much, much worse. Faith, unstable to begin with, had been pushed over the brink when she accidentally murdered Deputy Mayor Finch while on patrol with Buffy. Claiming that she didn't care, that Slayers were above the law, Faith had resisted any help, falling deeper and deeper into her inner darkness as events spiraled out of her control. Building up a wall of lies about her true feelings, she attempted to protect herself from the guilt and anguish that she knew to be inescapable. Wrestling with her conscience day after day took its toll; despite a strong effort from Angel, the only one who could truly understand Faith's psyche, the path of events conspired to lead Faith down the path to self-destruction instead of redemption. A botched attempt by her new Watcher to have her brought to justice only worsened the situation; after being betrayed at this crucial point in her life, she trusted the Scoobies less than ever before, feeling that they were to blame for her troubles.
Out of a need for revenge, or perhaps just a simple need to have someone to cling to, Faith sought out Mayor Wilkins, the head of the official Sunnydale hierarchy. Though he was a demon intent on murdering most of Sunnydale's populace, the mayor cared for Faith as if she were his own daughter, providing everything that Faith had ever wanted: a father figure that would never turn his back, one that showered her with affection and compliments in a cold, cruel world that had only caused her pain in the past. Finally she had found someone that recognized her abilities, a person who would do everything in his power to protect and love her, and she responded in kind by becoming his personal weapon against Buffy and the Scooby gang. The betrayals and pains of the past months still fresh in her mind, Faith became a double agent, playing both sides, reporting Buffy's intentions to the mayor whilst simultaneously hiding behind a friendly face around the Scoobies.
But the time for subterfuge had ended, and Faith and Mayor Wilkins had now moved into a more serious endeavor, attempting to steal Angel's soul through the use of dark magic, a plan that was designed to culminate in Buffy's slow, arduous death. Some small part of Faith was afraid that torturing Buffy to death would be the one act that would irreversibly make her evil, but another, larger part of her still recalled the harsh words, the lies, and the deceit, and this part urged her on, telling her that everything would be fine if only Buffy ceased to exist.
Now the final stages of the plan had begun. Faith, teaming with the newly-liberated Angelus, had cornered Buffy in the mansion, shackling her against the wall. Torture instruments glowed warmly near the fireplace, heated by the flames' malicious fingers. As Faith got up, a smirk on her pretty face, Angel quietly stood and watched the interaction between the two Slayers.
Moving a bit closer to her captive, Faith continued her train of thought. "Maybe it's one of those unhappy childhood things," she told Buffy. Her dark outfit, juxtaposed with the somewhat happy expression on her face, made Faith seem both benevolent and utterly terrible at the same time. "See, when I was a kid, I used to beg my mom for a dog. Didn't matter what kind. I just wanted, you know, something to love." Finally having an audience for her pain and enjoying the attention, Faith walked towards Angel, grabbed his shirt, and passionately kissed him only feet from Buffy, who closed her eyes in response, the sight too much for her to bear. Torture without words-torture with actions. After some of the longest seconds of Buffy's life, Faith broke away from Angel and started her story again. "A dog's all I wanted." She shot Buffy one of her meanest smiles. "Well, that and toys."
With that, Faith leaned over and uncovered the huge assortment of torture devices. Sharp, blunt, long, short, it didn't matter; all were deadly under the right conditions, and Faith had the right conditions in mind. Buffy pulled against her restraints to no avail. Faith didn't even notice, busy picking up one instrument that looked like a dentist's tool, and maybe it was. Buffy honestly didn't know, but what she did know was that she didn't want to find out.
"But Mom was so busy, you know," Faith said, straightening up and examining the tool intently, "enjoying the drinking and passing out parts of life that I never really got what I wanted." She paused dramatically, staring right at Buffy. "Until now."
Buffy, wary of how close Faith was getting, decided to rejoin the conversation. "Faith, listen to me very closely: Angel's a killer. When he's done with me, he'll turn on you."
"She's right," added Angel, playing with another of the torture instruments. Faith and Buffy both turned their heads in his direction. He looked up at them, a small smile interrupting his otherwise straight-faced features. "I probably will."
"Yeah?" asked Faith, always concerned with abandonment. But she shook off her doubts, returning her attention to her captive. "Huh. Guess we'll just have to keep you around a while, then."
Not really the response that Buffy was going for. She'd just prolonged her own torture. Faith, eager to get inside Buffy's head, moved over and stood face-to-face with her enemy, standing only inches away and still interested in taunting the blonde-haired Slayer.
"Before we get started, I just want you to know: if you're a screamer-feel free." As Faith directed her dentist's device slowly towards Buffy's face, Buffy had no choice but to scoot even tighter against the wall, her eyes wide.
"Why, Faith? What's in it for you?"
"What isn't?" The response had been instant and to the point, but Faith elaborated anyway, finally feeling in control of her life. "You know, I come to Sunnydale; I'm a Slayer; I do my job kicking ass better than anyone. But what do I hear about everywhere I go?" Her face darkened, and she leaned in even closer, her eyes dark and violent. "Buffy. So I slay, I behave, I do the little good girl routine, and who does everybody thank? Buffy."
"That's not my fault," Buffy replied in her own defense, trying to sway Faith from going through with the torture. She tried to think of something else to say, but nothing came to her. Faith, on the other hand, had plenty more to say. The honesty of this single evening was liberating, and Faith liked it. So much of her life was played out behind a façade, but for these few minutes, Buffy had to listen. She had no choice. After all this time, Faith could now say what had been on her mind for so long.
"Everyone always asks, 'Why can't you be more like Buffy?' But did anyone ever ask if you could be more like me?" Faith demanded, moving slightly away and pointing her torture device in Buffy's general direction.
"I know I didn't," Angel said, staring at the pliers in his hands and feigning disinterest in the conversation.
Faith, momentarily disturbed from her diatribe, recovered and moved closer to Buffy yet again. The smile had long since disappeared from Faith's features, replaced by a bitter scowl that could only spell disaster for Buffy's situation. "You get the Watcher, you get the mom, you get the little Scooby gang," said Faith, breath hot on Buffy's face. "And what do I get? Jack squat. This was supposed to be my town!" Exasperated and angry, Faith harshly shoved Buffy against the wall and then began walking towards the table with the torture instruments, not wanting to wait any longer.
Buffy tried to buy some more time. "Faith, listen to me-"
"Why?" Faith spun around, cutting Buffy off before she could get another word in. Furious, and getting more riled up by the second, Faith was loosing her self-control. "So you can impart some special Buffy wisdom? That it? Do you think you're better than me? Do you? Say it! You think you're better than me!"
"I am. Always have been." Buffy threw a contemptuous look Faith's way.
"Um, maybe you didn't notice. Angel's with me." The two would-be torturers, hovering near the little table, linked arms.
"And how'd you get him, Faith? Magic? You cast some sort of spell?" Buffy continued talking as Angel handed Faith a wicked knife. "Because in the real world, Angel would never touch you, and we both know it."
Knife clutched tightly in her right hand, Faith stormed over to Buffy and viciously backhanded her across the face. Shut up! Just shut your mouth! Buffy's head recoiled to the side, but she brought it up again, staring into Faith's eyes.
"You had to tie me up to beat me. There's a word for people like you, Faith." Buffy fairly spat it out. "Loser."
Almost before Buffy was finished saying the word, Faith jammed the knife into the wall mere centimeters away from Buffy's face. I hope you die slow, bitch. "Uh-huh," she said, hurt but too proud to show it. "You're just trying to make me mad so I'll kill you. But I'm too smart for that." She grabbed Buffy's jaw with her hand, roughly squeezing it. "Stick around."
"For what? Your boss's lame Ascension? Like I couldn't stop it."
"You can't."
"I will."
"Keep dreaming." Just like you to be so arrogant. 'Oh, I'm Buffy, look at me, I can do anything. I'm good at everything, yippee.' Well I bet you're good at dying, too. "No one can stop the Ascension. Mayor's got it wired, B." Faith was back by Angel, full of rage, hating Buffy and everything she stood for, imagining Buffy's bloody demise and the deaths of all her friends. "He built this town for demons to feed on, and come Graduation Day, he's gettin' paid." I hate you. "I'll be sittin' at his right hand-assuming he has hands after the transformation." I Hate You. "I'm not too clear on that part." I HATE YOU. "And all your little lame-ass friends are gonna be kibbles and bits." I FUCKING HATE YOU. "Think about that when your boyfriend's cutting into you." TIME TO DIE TIME TO DIE TIME TO DIE. THIS IS MY REVENGE. I'M GONNA HAVE FUN RIPPING OUT YOUR THROAT. AND THAT'S JUST THE BEGINNING. SO EVERYTHING COMES DOWN TO THIS. SEE WHERE ALL YOUR GOD DAMN LIES GET YOU, BITCH? TIME TO DIE.
Shocked at the pain and rage radiating off of Faith, Buffy's retort died on her lips. Faith was like an open sore, her feelings pouring out for all to see. Now, only at the end, could Buffy finally understand what Faith had been going through these long months. She'd never given it enough thought to comprehend it before, but now that it was staring her in the face, Buffy knew she was already too late to make a difference.
With sadness in her voice, Buffy said, "I never knew you had so much rage in you."
NO, YOU NEVER KNEW. BECAUSE YOU NEVER BOTHERED TO ASK. SO DIE.
The End
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
This story took over four months to construct, from initial concept to the final edition you have just read. I couldn't have possibly written "Faithless" without the aid of a number of different people, whom I feel deserve my thanks for their help:
*First and foremost, my parents and sister, who have always supported my numerous writing endeavors-even if they sucked. Without their constant encouragement, you wouldn't be reading my work because it wouldn't exist.
*My teachers, past and present, who pushed me to be the writer that I am today. And for putting up with all my smart-ass remarks.
*The entire crew from Warm Champagne (www.warmchampagne.com), the first website to accept my work into their fan fiction archives, and especially Nina, who always answered all my ridiculous questions and worked her ass off in the coding of "Faithless".
*Alison and Sasha over at Faith's Solace (http://faithsolace.com), two of the most influential people that had a hand in the story. Their knowledge of Faith's character is second to none, and they always had good comments and criticisms about how I chose to portray the different characters. Plus they're from Ireland, and that's just cool.
*T.S. Eliot, Stevie Smith, Amy Lee, Ben Moody, Trever Keith, Chester Bennington, and Mike Shinoda, the creators of the poems and song lyrics that I used at the beginning of each installment. Thanks for helping to set the mood.
*All the bands that gave me the motivation to write at one in the morning or for hours at a time, but specifically Strung Out, Evanescence, and Linkin Park for their amazing lyrics and energy. Without music, life has no emotion.
*The writers and creators who helped flesh out Faith's character in both Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel. Without them, Faith wouldn't exist.
*Last, but certainly not least, Eliza Dushku, the very talented actress who did such an amazing job portraying Faith throughout her four-year stint. My job as a writer was made more difficult because I wanted to live up to the character that Eliza built, and I am thankful that she raised the bar so high. Here's hoping for Faith's return someday soon.