Death of Buffy Summers
Faith knew when Buffy died. Not because anyone had told her--no, Buffy’s little friends hadn’t had the decency to inform Faith herself. Though all the shit she had put the Scoobies through had probably contributed to that decision. Maybe they thought she would be happy about it. Honestly, Faith had thought she would be happy about it. Buffy wasn’t quite her enemy. That had never felt like the right word. But there had been times when she wanted Buffy dead. Times when she had tried. And now that it had happened, she just felt… empty.
Something they didn’t tell you about having two Slayers was that you could feel it. And normally, you didn’t even notice the feeling, but then suddenly you woke up on your prison cot in a cold sweat, tears on your face and a feeling like someone had ripped out one of your organs and now there was just a void where something else was supposed to go. She wondered if Buffy felt that way when that Kendra girl died. Buffy had never mentioned anything like it to Faith. But when Faith woke up like that, she knew exactly what had happened. It didn’t stop her from going straight to the phones the next morning, just to be sure.
She honestly didn’t know why she cared so much. How would losing Buffy--no, losing wasn’t really the right word because it implied that Faith had Buffy at some point, which she definitely didn’t--how would Buffy’s death even affect her? Faith hadn’t seen her in years. The last time she had, it had been standing behind Angel as he defended her against a girl sure that there was no good left in her. Angel had believed she could make amends. He knew what it was like to kill someone, and Faith liked that about him. The fact that he felt her pain. After two years in prison, Faith had begun to recognize that when she was spiraling after what happened three years earlier, Buffy had been trying to help her. But that was different. Angel helped people, but he had helped Faith because he understood. With Buffy, helping was just what she did. Always helping, always looking for another lost soul to save. Faith wasn’t surprised, with her attitude and upbringing, that she had been one of Buffy’s lost causes too. But like everyone, Buffy eventually realized that’s what she was. A lost cause. And suddenly, she was nothing to Buffy. And Buffy… Buffy should be nothing to her. Or at least, Faith shouldn’t be feeling so sick at the thought of her fellow Slayer being dead.
As she dialed a familiar number, she thought about something else she hadn’t considered; the Slayer line hadn’t run through Buffy in five years. A new Slayer would not be called, not until Faith herself died. Which meant that she was alone.
And she had always been alone. Even with her mother and her boyfriends, even in Sunnydale with Buffy and her friends, maybe even with Diana. The Mayor had been the one person who made her feel like maybe she wasn’t alone, and Buffy had killed him. Sure, he was a giant snake monster trying to destroy Sunnydale. It took a while for Faith to understand that. It didn’t change the fact that he cared. She was sure Buffy assumed that the Mayor was pretending to care about Faith. But she had been around long enough to know the difference, even then. The Mayor had really cared about her, and at that point, it was more than Faith could say about Buffy and her posse of over-eager high school students. It wasn’t like Buffy cared what the Mayor meant to her, anyways.
The phone in Faith’s hands rang. She brought it to her ear. Her hands were shaking. Why were her stupid hands shaking? It wasn’t a big deal. Either Buffy was dead, or she wasn’t. It shouldn’t matter either way.
Someone on the other line answered. “Angel Investigations, we help the helpless,” intoned a familiar, vaguely impatient female voice. Faith honestly should have expected this, but it didn’t make it suck any less.
“Cordelia,” she said into the phone, her voice raspy. “Angel around?” There was a scoff on the other line.
“Faith. You have a lot of nerve calling here, you know.”
“I just wanna know how he’s doing, y’know?” Faith hoped that the bravado in her voice masked the trembling, the vulnerability. Angel would maybe understand why she was so upset. He might even be able to tell her. But Cordelia? No way. “He’s still being good, mopin’ around, staying away from blonde chicks, right?”
“As if you care about Angel.”
“I care about him.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. She liked Angel well enough. He was the only one who cared even a little bit about her, and Faith knew that Buffy and his new crew would always come first. But it was nice to get a phone call every few months, even if it was mostly just her and Angel trading monosyllabic responses while the bitch from Cell Block A glared a hole in her back.
“What do you want, Faith?” Cordelia asked wearily. “Angel told me you never call him; he’s always the one who calls you.”
Faith took a steadying breath. She wanted to ask. She needed to ask. But she couldn’t ask Cordelia. It needed to be Angel.
“Big guy around?” she said into the phone. A girl from cell block C gave her a look. Arrested for prostitution, or so Faith had heard.
“No, he’s not.” Cordelia said sweetly. “Why don’t you call again later? Or never! Never works.”
“Do you know where he went? Is he okay?”
“He’s on some retreat somewhere. Dealing with stuff.”
“What stuff?” Faith didn’t remember it being so hard to get things out of Cordelia. She hadn’t spent much time with the girl during her Sunnydale days, since she and Harris were already on the rocks by the time Faith started hanging out with him. Plus the whole priss routine kind of put Faith off. But she had gotten the distinct impression that Cordelia didn't beat around the bush. Why bother now?
Cordelia sighed into the phone, and Faith wondered how much had changed for her. She sounded different. Older, and more weary. All Faith knew was what Angel had told her about Cordy, which wasn’t much. He didn’t like to talk about his friends. As far as Faith could tell, the only things he really liked talking about were making amends. Or maybe that was just something he brought up with her.
“Is that why you called, Faith? Do you have some super secret Slayer sense that lets you know when other Slayers have died?”
Faith pressed her lips together. It was stupid. So stupid. Buffy was dead, and Faith felt like she had lost something, and what right did she have to feel sorrow for Buffy’s death? She had made her life miserable. She had hated Buffy for so long, and now what was she supposed to do? Where would the hate go? Where had her friend gone? Because, that’s right, before all the anger, the attempted murders, the body switching, Faith and Buffy had been friends. And now, Faith was feeling like that girl again, before everything had happened with Finch, just happy to have someone who understood. And yeah, maybe Buffy didn’t get all of it. Maybe she had a family and friends who loved her, and Faith just had Buffy. But it was good. Things were good. And she had never had a friend before, not like with Buffy. They had bickered and fought, and they were so different, but Faith had cared about her then. It was just… There was a lesson Faith had learned a long time ago that Buffy had the privilege to have never learned. Love was nothing. Caring got you hurt. Caring got you dead. So when the stake had plunged into Allan Finch’s heart, Faith knew. Caring got you dead. And she had wrapped up all those feelings for Buffy, and she had put them away. It didn’t matter if Buffy was her friend then, because Buffy wouldn’t be anymore. Faith didn’t let herself care about Buffy after that. She couldn’t. And now, with Buffy finally gone, all that pain and love and jealousy from so long ago was creeping out. She was just trying to keep it together long enough to prevent getting jumped in the phone line. She wasn’t well-liked in the Northern Carolina Women’s Facility, and if they saw her show any kind of weakness like crying, they would probably try to kill her. Not like they would succeed, but still, Faith wasn’t feeling like getting stabbed today. She brushed a hand against the scar from her last stabbing. Who would have thought, that day on the rooftop when Buffy drove that knife--the very one that Mayor Wilkins had given her--into Faith’s gut, that Faith would be the one to outlive Buffy?
“Faith?” Cordelia sounded annoyed, but also vaguely worried, an emotion Faith hadn’t known she possessed. “Are you still there?”
“I’m here.” Faith gasped. She hated how fragile, how shocked she sounded. She had known, goddamnit. She had known the other Slayer was dead. She knew this was what she would learn, and she knew she shouldn’t care. But all those feelings she had felt, rage and jealousy and love and camaraderie, they were all spilling out.
“You sound upset. I would have thought you’d be jumping for joy that Buffy’s finally gone. You’ve tried to kill her, what, like a bazillion times now?”
“I’m not upset.” Faith wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince with that, because it sure as hell wasn’t Cordy.
“Yeah. Well, whatever. Someone probably should have told you anyway. I guess I figured Giles probably would, but I’m sure he’s too busy drinking and polishing his glasses or something.”
“Are you… are you upset?” Faith asked. She knew Cordelia and Buffy were never very close, less so after Cordelia had moved to LA rather than continue to be in whatever pseudo-position she held in the Scooby gang.
“Of course I’m upset. Buffy was my friend. I’m not a monster.” Cordelia snapped. Another weary sigh. “You know what, I’ve got work to do. I don’t have time for this. Talk to you later, Faith. Oh, and just so you know? By later, I mean never. You got that, right?”
"Yeah, I got it." There was a click on the other line as Cordelia hung up the phone. After a moment, Faith slowly put the phone back on the wall, and turned around. Sure enough, that bitch from Cell Block A was standing behind her, glaring. How did she always end up right behind Faith for calls? Faith could swear that psycho was fucking with her. Whatever. It didn’t matter. She shoved past the woman, earning a glare but nothing more than that because all the women in this prison had learned not to fuck with her long ago. It wasn't important anymore. Nothing was. Buffy was dead, and Faith needed to sort her feelings about that. She knew where to go to make that happen, and started heading towards the gym. She needed to get her head on straight. She needed to go talk to Jules.