~ .o.0.o. ~
Thirteen hours and twenty-three minutes.
That's how long I've been waiting for you. I sat crouched there in the corner for hours... Not any more, though. I finally get it... and now? There's shit that needs doing. The leather will be easy to clean... the shirt’s gonna take a little work. Still might be a lost cause, though. Stains become permanent when you let 'em set too long.
Thirteen hours and twenty-three minutes.
Not all that long in the big scheme of things. Or even in the little scheme of things. But then, as the good doctor Einstein pointed out, time is a relative sort of thing, isn't it. Surprised? Yeah, I know who Einstein was. I’m not quite the ignorant barbarian you all think I am. Perception is a relative sort of thing, too. All you saw was the "slut-o-rama" from Southie with bad table manners and a mouth like a trucker. I guess you could call that part of my urban camouflage––a definite necessity if you wanna keep people from fuckin’ with you. Bet you never guessed that, before I dropped out, I'd never gotten lower than an A- on any test I'd ever taken. School had one major drawback though... they asked too many of the wrong fuckin' questions. Answering them all would have only earned me more bruises. I'd seen how the 'Child Services-go-round' worked, a few days away at most, then you always wound up right back where you started. So, I opted for street smarts instead of book smarts. Where I come from, that was the currency of greater value. You wouldn't know anything about that though, would you? You’ve got the 'supermom' who actually gives a shit. But again, like the Doc said, it’s all relative. Sometimes literally.
That theory of his gets proven over and over again whenever you're a part of the equation. I should be used to it by now, shouldn't I? An hour with you is over in the blink of an eye, but when I’m sitting in this fucking shitbox of a motel room waiting for you, time slows to an agonizing crawl. It drives me right out of my frikken head. Did it ever feel that way to you?
I seriously doubt it.
Jeezus-fuckin'-Christ, would you listen to me? Since when do I allow anybody to have that kind of power over me? I guess... ever since I made the mistake of letting you in.
Time was I could give a rat's ass. The only one I needed was me and the only opinion that mattered was my own.
I learned early on that I was the only person I could really depend on. It doesn't matter what song and dance anyone else gives you at first, when the shit hits the fan they'll dump you without thinking twice about it. You made me lose sight of that. What was it you'd said when Kakistos had caught up with me? Oh yeah, "One of him. Two of us."
'Us'.
Do you even have clue one just how stupidly happy that little fuckin' word made me? Even way back then, I actually dared to believe it... that there could actually be an 'us.' Sing it with me, 'You and me against the world', right? Jesus... How frikken' pathetic. Guess I should thank you for relieving me of that mistaken perception. It seems I'm not quite the quick study I used to be. You were good at making all the appropriate 'I'm here for you' noises, though. Definitely had me fooled, that's for damned sure. Not many people can lay claim to that one. Congratulations, you really had me goin'.
Thirteen hours and twenty-three minutes:
The time it now takes Faith to wake the fuck up to reality.
Y'know, when I landed on the other side of that wall, I turned around to catch you. Yeah, I knew you wouldn't need any help over, but it's what we always did, gave a hand over the obstacles.
I stood there with my hand extended––waiting to grab yours––even after the sound of your footsteps faded away. I just couldn't believe that the sound belonged to you.
But eventually it sank in; the only person on the other side of that wall was beyond any and all help. I think it was in that very moment that I began to realize...
...just how much that poor sonofabitch and I had in common.
I didn't get it at the time, but "we" died in that alley, too... wiped out the instant your eyes met mine after he slumped to the ground.
I tried to say something... I didn't fuckin' know... you get that, right? We'd done it a hundred times before, grab the bad guy, toss him to your partner, and poof!––instant dust cloud. Efficient slaying in the heat of battle 'cos hesitation of any kind can get you seriously dead.
"One of him. Two of us."
But this time, a human somehow switched places with the vamp. I swear, I didn't know. He grabbed you just like they did. I couldn't let him hurt you. I...
Didn't... know.
But you did, didn't you. A split second too late. Too late for me, too late for him... too fuckin' late for us. It was all there in your eyes, y'know; I just didn't want to admit it till now. No more team... No more 'us'. No amount of dancing and bonding time can change that now.
Your eyes had looked at me with such raw desire only a day earlier, and fuck, how I'd rejoiced to finally see it. Hell, I was frikken' drunk on it. Imagine that amplified by a million when you pushed me up against the wall at the back of the Bronze and kissed me.
No more innuendo and teasing, you were there, feeling it, our power together... feeling us. It made you happier than I'd ever seen you before. You admitted it and it made you so fuckin' happy, just like I knew it would.
But that vanished in a human heartbeat. All your eyes had held afterward was shocked revulsion. Not with the situation, not with our slaying rhythm gone so horribly wrong... but with me.
So much in such a short span of time, isn't it? How did that story begin? "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times..."
Too fuckin' right.
I had to go back and look at him... hoping against hope that it was all just another fucked up nightmare. I also needed to see if you really had ditched me. Maybe...? Maybe you'd had to look once more, too? ...Hadn't really run away from me at all, you just needed to be sure. 'Hope springs eternal' and all that shit.
Stupid me. Gonna win the "Chump of the Century" award hands down at this rate.
It was just me and him, staring in disbelief at one another. I'd always heard that dead eyes reflected nothing. I can now say for the record that that's all bullshit. I looked into his eyes...and I saw myself looking back. He and I were wearing the same stunned expression. I reached out and touched the blood... it just didn't seem real until I actually did. Not warm like before... cooler now, and starting to coagulate. As I was staring at it on my fingertips I heard you again, in my head...
"One of him. Two of us."
Liar. There's only me. Just like it's always been.
I'd forgotten the prime rule: Look out for number one. I never should have forgotten that. You obviously didn't. So who did you run to first? Dead Boy? The witch bitch? Either one of 'em would fall all over themselves to protect you and cheerfully serve me up on a tidy judicial platter. Anything to get me away from you. After all, I'm the trespasser on their Buffy Summers territory. If you haven't gone to either of them yet then you will soon, that's for damned sure. Or maybe you were actually daring enough to go to the Watchers... Probably crying your eyes out about how I'd tried to "corrupt" you and then killed a civilian despite your pleading for me not to. I can just see it now, an Oscar worthy performance to melt even the most tweed-bound British heart.
No... You'd go to Giles maybe, but not Princess Wyndam-Pryce. He pisses you off more than anyone else ever has.
Knocking...? Who the fuck is that...? Cops?
"Faith, it's me."
Well speak of the devil. Have you rallied the forces already? Come to take me in? You've made the point of exactly where you stand now... You've pulled yourself so far away from me that I didn't even feel you out there. And that pisses me off even more.
I'm surprised when I open the door and see that you're alone. What's this, then? More mind-fucking before you try and take me in? You ditched me... left me to handle all of it... Aren't you even going to say anything?
"Hey."
That's it? That's all you can fuckin' say?! The urge to punch you is almost too much to resist. The only way I can is if I keep my hands occupied, so I leave you in the doorway and go back to scrubbing my shirt. Of course, you follow me. Now you fuckin' follow me.
"So, I... uh... How are you doing?"
Not bad, B... I could almost believe that there's genuine concern behind that. You've fooled me before, though. Not again, 'cos actions will always speak louder than words. That's not what I say to you though.
"I'm alright. You know me."
You might want to towel off some of that dripping sarcasm.
"Faith, we need to talk about what we're gonna do."
We? That isn't gonna work this time, Twinkie. I know now that there is only a 'we' when it's convenient for you.
"There's nothing to talk about. I was doing my job."
"Being a Slayer is not the same as being a killer."
So that's what it comes down to, huh? You are finally proven beyond a shadow of a doubt to be the only "true" Slayer. And me? I'm nothing but a mistake, a piece of shit killer. Is that what this is leading up to, B?
"Faith, please don't shut me out here. Look, sooner or later, we're both gonna have to deal."
"Wrong."
Thirteen hours and twenty-three minutes.
I've had plenty of time to 'deal,' B... You made sure of that.
"We can help each other."
"I don't need it."
That's all I can say, 'cos the urge to smash your lying face in is gettin' harder and harder to ignore. Again, I have to walk away from you to resist.
I thought you understood––I thought you were finally getting it. What we are. What we could be... together. You followed me into that sewer. You left school with me to dust vamps with a smile on your face and a fucking song in your heart.
And afterwards? You. Wanted. Me. I saw it. Angel saw it. Everyone at the Bronze saw it.
Maybe that's what this is really about? God forbid the golden girl is actually getting wet over another female. What would your tight-assed friends think of you then? Well guess what? They've suspected it long before now.
"Yeah? Who's wrong now? Faith, you can shut off all the emotions that you want..."
"... but eventually, they're gonna find a body."
You fucking bitch... you really are here just to make sure your own ass is covered, aren't you? You wanna know what I've been up to, make sure it doesn't conflict with whatever alibi you've set up for yourself. You wanna know? Fine.
"Okay, this is the last time we're gonna have this conversation, and we're not even having it now, you understand me? There is no body. I took it, weighted it, and dumped it. The body doesn't exist."
I did it for both of us, y'know. At the time, I still stupidly believed that I had to protect you.
Seems like I've always been the supposed 'bad seed' that everyone points fingers at, so I know how to survive, how to skip town and stay below radar when it becomes clear that no one gives a flying fuck about extenuating circumstances and particulars. I didn't want you to have to face any of that, so I covered your back. I honestly thought that you'd have done the same for me... I still wanted to believe in 'us'.
But the only back you cover, is tall, dark and broody.
"Getting rid of the evidence doesn't make the problem go away."
Right, B, 'cos the 'evidence' isn't your real problem at all, is it...?
I am.
I try my best to bury the true depths of pain, disappointment and bitterness that I'm feeling when I reply,
"It does for me."
I would have done anything for you...
Why? 'Cos there was no greater feeling than knowing that I'd found my soulmate...
And nothing more devastating than realizing that you will never allow me to be that for you.
"Faith, you don't get it..."
Don't say it, don't you fucking dare say it. At least leave me with the illusion that we're some kind of friends...
"You killed a man."
It takes everything I have to maintain a nearly blank expression and not flinch. Fuck... How could you, B? It echoes through my mind:
'You'
...not 'we'.
So I was alone in that alley? No one grabbed him and flung him to me? No one else failed to notice how warm he was?
Fuck you, Buffy Summers!
I want to scream my pain 'cos it is shredding my insides to pieces... but I don't. I can't. I'm not gonna give you the satisfaction.
"No, you don't get it..."
I can feel a feral smile stretching my lips. Thanks for the wake-up call, B. I know what kind of person you are now. And y' know what?
"...I don't care!"
Thirteen hours and twenty-three minutes...
The amount of time it takes for love to truly die.
End