Back to Sunnydale
It was disorienting, to wake up in the same bed she’d been sleeping in for months, with a stranger by her side. The guy she’d picked up in the bar--she couldn’t remember his name but felt like it was something along the likes of Rob, or Ron--was still asleep. He was shirtless. The gray tank top he’d been wearing last night was still somewhere on her floor.
Faith expected the usual feelings of regret and discomfort, but they didn’t come. All she could feel was an uncanny type of fear. Her dream had shaken her, more than they usually did. She was no stranger to nightmares, and to be honest, Allan Finch and Lester Worth frequently guest-starred. But the fear they evoked rarely lingered.
She remembered what happened before her two victims had appeared. The last vampire she’d slayed had appeared, warning her of some great darkness approaching Sunnydale. Christ, wasn’t there always? It wasn’t Faith’s responsibility to deal with all the goddamn apocalypses that happened over there.
An empty spot in her gut throbbed at that, and Faith abruptly remembered the reason she was in Cleveland in the first place. Buffy was dead. One Slayer in all the world. Which meant it actually was her responsibility to deal with whatever dark forces were convening in Sunnydale. Fantastic.
Well, she wasn’t in Sunnydale right now, and she had no intention of going back. Or at least, she was pretty sure. A good Slayer would go back to Sunnydale, and protect it from the forces of evil. But Faith had too recently been one of those forces of evil to be able to stomach protecting it. Maybe she could go back later. Surely the forces of evil would wait.
What’s-his-name stirred beside her, smiling sleepily at her. Faith didn’t bother to imitate the gesture. She watched him with a cool expression until he sheepishly got his clothes off the floor, dressed, and shuffled out of her apartment. Why did she bother sleeping with men, anyways?
Work that day was harder than usual. All Faith could think about was Sunnydale. What would it be like to go back? There was no one there for her, but then again, there was no one for here here, either. But here was a fresh start. Sunnydale was full of people that knew and hated her. She already had to be careful of police officers, just in case any of them had heard about an escaped convict in California. She’d have to be doubly careful of them in Sunnydale, and also avoid anyone who had been associated with Buffy and her cabal of do-gooders.
Why was she even considering this? She couldn’t go back to Sunnydale. It was too dangerous. Cleveland was her home now. Even though she hated it in Cleveland. Even though sometimes, she had dreams about Sunnydale, and that crappy motel room she’d stayed in. Sometimes, she heard Buffy’s voice calling to her. And sometimes, she heard the Mayor’s.
Sunnydale was too loaded with memories. Cleveland was safe. Cleveland was a fresh start. Cleveland was a crap town with crap nightlife that Faith couldn’t stand to be in for another day.
She got home, and grabbed a stake to go out. She pulled out a duffel bag and started packing. She cursed herself, unpacked the duffel bag, and went out to patrol. No vampires. How were there no vampires on a Hellmouth? Maybe she should have let Fiona live. At least she was good for a fight. Plus, then she wouldn’t be haunting Faith’s dreams, giving her mysterious warnings about whatever bullshit apocalypse was facing Sunnydale now. As if Faith cared. As if she could do anything even if she did care.
The thing was, Faith thought if it was any other town, she could help. But Sunnydale… even if she put aside all the bad memories, even if she tried not to think of the person she was the last time she was in Sunnydale, it was still Buffy’s turf. And yeah, Buffy was dead. She didn’t exactly get to claim anything anymore. But her friends weren’t. Faith knew how loyal and stubborn they were.
Then again… Fiona had implied that maybe, Buffy’s friends were the danger facing Sunnydale. And Faith didn’t want to kill them. She felt like doing that would be shoving yet another knife in Buffy’s back, when Buffy already had a back full of knives from Faith alone. But she sure as hell wouldn’t mind roughing them up a little bit, especially if they had gotten into some bad shit.
So, as she walked back to her apartment, she considered which one of Buffy’s friends was most likely to have caused whatever was happening. Xander didn’t have enough spine to get himself into any dark shit, not to mention he wasn’t particularly good at research, magic, or fighting. Giles would no doubt be stricken and desperate after Buffy died; Faith knew the old man was attached to the Slayer. But she also knew he was cautious, and wasn’t likely to be overwhelmed by magic or some kind of mystical evil.
There was Buffy’s doting, all-American boyfriend that Faith didn’t like to think about because when she did, she thought about how she’d slept with him, how it had felt to have him say he loved her knowing that he really meant Buffy, the part of her that while he was making love to her had been thinking about Buffy the whole time-
Whatever. He was too much of a goody-two shoes to get into whatever apocalypse magic was going on, and she wasn’t even sure he and Buffy were still together. He’d seemed so happy and normal, and Buffy liked ‘em dark, Faith knew. It was part of the Slayer gig. She couldn’t do normal. Neither of them could.
That left Willow. And honestly, Faith saw her going either way. Willow had always seemed firmly good, cautious, and eager-to-please to Faith, in the type of way that put her off. But she had also been practicing magic, and from what little Faith had seen of Willow during the body-switching fiasco, she had changed a lot. It was plausible that maybe, the grief of losing Buffy had caused Willow to lose herself to dark magicks.
There was something else Fiona had said to her. Something important. As Faith arrived in her apartment and tossed the stake in her hand onto a nearby table, she wracked her brain for it. That was the trouble with Slayer dreams--the minor details would slip through your fingers, and with prophetic dreams, the minor details were often the most important ones.
As Faith was slipping into unconsciousness that night, she suddenly remembered. “Life and death are not to be messed with, Faith Lehane. You should know that by now.” She’d assumed in the dream that it was just a jab at her past. But now, after thinking about Buffy’s friends and what they might be driven to do now that she had died…
She sat upright in bed. Oh, shit. They were going to resurrect Buffy. She had to… well, she wasn’t sure if she had to stop them. Fiona had seemed to imply that it was something bad, and it must be if it was coming to her in a Slayer dream. And it’s not that Faith wanted Buffy back. Really. It was just… could she call herself good and prevent Buffy Summers from coming back to life? What right did she have to keep Buffy from the world?
Then again, what right did Buffy’s friends have to force Buffy back into the world? It had been months since she’d died. This wasn’t a quick resuscitation like when Buffy died the first time. Did they even know if Buffy wanted to come back?
Faith wasn’t sure why, but she knew she couldn’t stay in Cleveland while all this was happening. She felt that familiar pit in her stomach, like when she had turned herself in for the first time. The pain in knowing that the world was going on without her, that there were battles to be faced and evil to be killed and she was apart from it. Always apart. Always alone. But this time, she had a choice.
She was not redeemed. Not even close. It was something she had been fighting to ignore this whole time in Cleveland. Angel had always told her it would take work. And not just her working up the courage to turn herself in, either. Cleveland was another attempt to do one good deed that would wipe the board for her, clear her ledger entirely. But now, standing on the precipice between her past and her future, Faith understood. It was a constant battle to be better. The battle she’d undertaken in prison, to fight her darkness and fight her urges, but another battle, too. A battle to be brave. She had been brave that night when she had broken out of prison, understanding that the world needed a Slayer more than she needed her peace of mind. And now, she would have to be brave again. Sunnydale was a pit of vipers for her, and she was going straight into the nest, because there was something bad brewing, and she was the Slayer. The one and only. Faith didn’t believe in duty, or destiny, but she knew that it was the right thing to do. And she knew that if she ever wanted to make up for what she had done, if she ever wanted half a chance at being someone worth something again, she needed to do what was right. So, she packed her bags for Sunnydale, California.