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Winning by obsidianwarloc
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Story notes:

 

Rocky Balboa came out in 2006. But I watched the movie again and this idea wouldn’t go away. It bugged me so much that it interrupted my writing, so I’m throwing it out there. This is a one-shot with the potential to be the first entry in a series. Now I can get back to Payback. Set in early S5. ~OW

Chapter notes:

Timeline tweaking: Faith leaves prison after ‘Are You Now or Have You Ever Been.’ The confrontation with Buffy occurs between ‘Dracula’ and ‘The Replacement.’ ~OW

 

“Let me tell you something you already know. The world ain't all sunshine and rainbows. It's a very mean and nasty place and I don't care how tough you are it will beat you to your knees and keep you there permanently if you let it. You, me, or nobody is gonna hit as hard as life. But it ain't about how hard you hit. It's about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward. How much you can take and keep moving forward. That's how winning is done! Now if you know what you're worth then go out and get what you're worth. But ya gotta be willing to take the hits, and not pointing fingers saying you ain't where you wanna be because of him, or her, or anybody! Cowards do that and that ain't you! You're better than that! I'm always gonna love you no matter what. No matter what happens. You're my son and you're my blood. You're the best thing in my life. But until you start believing in yourself, ya ain't gonna have a life. Don't forget to visit your mother.”

 

--Rocky Balboa

 

September, 2000: Chowchilla, California

 

In the rec room of Central California Women’s Facility, Faith Lehane sat enraptured by the old boxer on the TV screen, the words tearing straight into her heart. She hid her face behind her long, dark hair as she wiped the tears that formed.

 

It was comical in a way. Of all the things to inspire her, a Rocky movie now took the top position. Sitting in an uncomfortable chair along with thirty other female inmates while the movie played, she was bored as the rest, until Sly started his motivational speech for his on-screen son.

 

What a speech it was.

 

Words she wished she had heard years earlier, from a father she never had. Words enough to clear her head. While the other inmates quietly jeered the film or chatted with each other, Faith re-evaluated her life. Her current position. She caught her reflection in a mirror, and gazed at the brown-haired, brown-eyed girl in a blue prison jumpsuit.

 

Why was she in jail?

 

She’d killed a person by accident, she’d assassinated another, and she’d used a magical device to switch bodies with and effectively rape another young woman. There were other, lesser crimes she’d committed, but of all of them, it was the last one – the one no written law could properly punish – that led her here, and to confess her killings and end up incarcerated.

 

That woman, Buffy Summers, was special, like Faith was. Vampire Slayers. Honest-to-God superheroes, ridding the night of demons for the benefit of humanity. They were like yin and yang: Buffy was a tiny blond thing with sparking hazel eyes and a thing for pastel colors. Faith was tall, dark and dangerous, with dark denim and black leather everything. Buffy was controlled, cautious. Faith was impulsive, reckless. Buffy had friends and family. Faith had no one. Light and dark. Oil and water. Good girl and bad girl. Fate joined them together by a tenuous thread, a sense of each other that Faith likened to the Quickening from Highlander, except that it never truly went away.

 

They were played against each other for many times for many reasons. Too many to even process at once. In the end, Faith was ‘evil’ and Buffy was ‘good.’ Faith killed people. They fought each other to the death.

 

Buffy won.

 

Faith survived, though her rooftop suicide attempt coupled with a vicious stab wound from the other Slayer put her in a coma for eight months. When she woke, Faith attacked Buffy in vengeance and rage at being forgotten in the back room of a hospital, alone. That’s when the body-switching happened.

 

Buffy won again.

 

Hired by his enemies, Faith attacked Angel, Buffy’s ex-boyfriend and likely the only ‘good’ vampire in existence. She did so hoping to have Angel kill her.

 

Angel won. He wanted to help her. But then Buffy came, demanding satisfaction for Faith’s crimes.

 

Buffy won again.

 

Faith was in jail because of Buffy. To satisfy Buffy. Not herself. She played to Buffy’s tune, to Buffy’s need to see Faith hurt, and it was getting her nowhere. She was useless in here, wasting her Slayer talents, waiting on someone else’s notion of ‘redemption’. She could be staking vamps and saving lives to win back her good name.

 

Faith had made her decisions. She’d taken her hits. This wasn’t moving forward. This was sitting in place, spinning her wheels in a pretense of ‘correction’ acceptable to society. She needed to be useful. She needed to change things. She needed out.

 

On the TV set, Rocky stood at his wife’s grave. Like his first movie, he’d lost the fight – barely – but he’d come out a winner. Worthy of the greatest respect.

 

That would be her, Faith vowed. No matter how bloody it got, she was going to have a real life.

 

Signalling the nearest guard, she said the words to begin her transformation. “I need to make a call.”

 

Five minutes later, she sat at the phone, dialing the one number whose owner would answer.

 

“Angel Investigations. We help the helpless.”

 

“Cordelia, its Faith. Is Angel there?”

 

“I’m sure he’s brooding in his office. Just a moment.”

 

Tick, tick, tick…

 

“Angel here.”

 

“Hey, big guy.”

 

“Faith? What’s up?”

 

“I need a favor. A big one.”

 

“What do you need?”

 

“A damn good lawyer.” She steadied herself, before plowing ahead. “I’m here for the wrong reasons. I need things to change. Can you visit? I’ll explain everything. But a good lawyer’s a must.”

 

“Alright, I’ll come down. As to the lawyer… yeah. I have an idea.”

 

.

 

Less than a week later, Faith was free, shaking Lindsay MacDonald’s false hand as he left her with Angel, promising an update to her case in a few days. He assured them that he could easily win for false confession and miscarriage of justice, and have everything thrown out – along with monetary compensation – on the basis that Faith’s confessions were under duress. The irony that Lindsay was Angel’s enemy and mostly responsible for Faith’s misadventures in L.A. in the first place was not lost on her.

 

“What the hell did you do to convince him to take this case?” Faith asked once the lawyer was gone.

 

“Aggressive diplomacy.”

 

“Oh, yeah?” Faith quirked an eyebrow. “How’s that work?”

 

“Basically, I explained that what happened to you was his fault and he’d better fix it or I’d beat him up a lot. Plus it’s a challenge, he gets to screw the system and he’s getting paid.”

 

“Smooth.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

They stood a moment, taking in the hustle and bustle of downtown L.A., before Angel nudged the Slayer on the shoulder. “Well?” he asked. “How’s it feel to be free?”

 

“Like I just wasted another couple months of my life.” She looked up to the vampire’s concerned gaze, and offered up a smile. “I’m five-by-five, big guy. I had one whole fight in the joint, in which I established why I was off-limits. Every day after that was just another day in the gym or library. Never been in better shape, never read so much in my life.”

 

“So, what’s next in your big plan?”

 

“Training. Classes. Slaying.” She took Angel’s arm as they walked up to the Hyperion Hotel, where Angel ran his private investigation firm. “With your kind permission, I intend to help you guys out and take up slaying in L.A.”

 

“Do you think the Watcher’s Council will let you?”

 

“I think I’m done with them,” Faith snarled, a little of her old anger coming back. “If they send another goon squad, I’ll mail back their testicles.”

 

“Faith.”

 

“I’m serious, Angel. I’m done rolling over. I want to have a life. If I have to fight for it, even kill for it, I’ll do it. No one can do it for me.”

 

“You can’t fight the darkness with darkness.”

 

“This ain’t about the darkness.” Faith pulled Angel around to look him in the eye. “I ain’t never had light in my life. It’s time to get some of that. That’s what I realized, you know? That it’s not about earning the light, it’s about creating it. It’s time to get myself some real friends, some education, some real combat training, maybe even a job, and then live.”

 

Angel blinked several times at her processing her tirade.

 

“Anyways,” she continued, “I always wanted what Buffy had, so now I guess I realize I’ve got to build it for myself.”

 

“Faith… ignoring what got you to this point won’t make it go away.”

 

“See, I believe you big guy, but I’m also somewhere a little different now.”

 

They paused a moment to exchange pleasantries with Cordelia and Wesley when they reached the front desk. Once the small talk was over and they were safely ensconced in Angel’s office, Faith carried on.

 

“Okay, so I’m gonna say something, and I don’t want you to flip, okay?”

 

“Sure.”

 

“Okay. Those killings I did? Not really feeling them. You know? I mean, I feel bad, but I don’t have nightmares or nothing.”

 

“Okay…”

 

“Buffy? I feel horrible for that shit. But again, not why I’m down. I’m down because I let my shitty life beat me up instead of fighting to scrape together something worthwhile. I blamed everyone around me, even myself, but I still did nothing; I just went along with the shit that flew at me, and never tried to fight it back.”

 

One deep breath. Two.

 

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I know I’m not to blame for most of the shit that happened to me, and there are things that I’m completely responsible for, don’t get me wrong,” she added quickly, seeing a growing concern on the vampire’s face. “But my life is the way it is ‘cause I let it get this way. And I mean to fix that.”

 

Angel tilted his head, nodding slowly as he took in her explanation. “Yeah, okay. I can see all that, and I can help.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

“Okay, let’s talk about the more serious things. First: Buffy.”

 

Faith shook her head. “Don’t care about her.”

 

“She’s going to care that you’re out.”

 

“It’s not her life. I’m not her responsibility.”

 

Angel offered her a wry smile. “I’m certain she won’t see it that way.”

 

“Too bad. I’m done being her bitch. A lot of my recent choices were made ‘cause of her, and it fucked me up. If she comes here and wants to fight, we’ll fight. But I ain’t giving up what I want ‘cause of her.”

 

“We’ll come back to that,” Angel temporized, patting the air. “Okay, what about the Council? For that matter, what about Willow? Both could use magic or espionage to make your life difficult. One much more likely than the other.”

 

“Then heads roll.”

 

“Faith, no.” Angel shot her a look of stern disapproval.

 

“Yes.” Faith leaned over the desk to stare the vampire in the eye. “Listen: I don’t care that I hurt them. It was wrong, but they don’t get to bully me around for the rest of my life ‘cause of that. That’s not right, it’s not fair, and if I have to fight ‘em over it, I will.”

 

Angel closed his eyes and sighed, before allowing his head to slowly nod. “I don’t want you to fight them,” he said, “The whole point is for you to not have more blood on your hands. But I agree that they can’t just come in and push you around.”

 

“Right.” Faith backed away from the desk, turning to a bookshelf. “Part of that means that I need to figure out how to cast some spells. Basic defensive shit. Something to keep them from finding me, or targeting me from a distance. Maybe Wes can help. As long as we’re face-to-face, a Slayer always wins.”

 

“This all sounds frighteningly like your old self.”

 

The Slayer shrugged. “I ain’t two people, big guy.” She paused to consider an interesting book – might have spells in it – before turning back to Angel. “I never want to be where I was again – never that desperate, scared little girl who lashes out because it’s all she can think to do.”

 

Faith pinned him with a steely gaze, willing him to see her determination.

 

“I need to face B as a winner. As an equal. Not now, as this wounded little puppy begging for its master to pet it.” She shook slightly as her emotions took her. “That’s what I’m getting at here, Angel. I need to be a fully functional human being, and a fully functional Slayer, before I deal with the Scoobies. I can’t do that without actually building a life. Dig?”

 

“I get it,” Angel replied with a nod, standing as well. “And I guess I agree. In any case, what’s done is done. I was never going to send you to jail anyways.”

 

Faith shot him a satisfied smile. “Exactly, big guy. That thought exactly.”

 

Angel nodded again, returning her smile. “Alright. This is starting to make sense to me. Let’s get you a room, and show you how things work here. Then, we’ll see what Lindsay has to say.”

 

.

 

Lindsay had to say a lot. Wolfram & Hart was, after all, a trans-dimensional law firm, and Lindsay himself was very, very good at his job. Somehow, he made falsifying evidence and negligence by the prosecution stick as well. Faith’s record was wiped clean, and her case quickly settled out of court for 2.2 million dollars and the standard nondisclosure agreements. Lindsay walked away with the 0.2, leaving Faith a millionaire twice over.

 

Angel stood speechless when Lindsay showed him the numbers. The lawyer had bent the system so far over itself it resembled a pretzel. What high-status contacts Lindsay must have; how corrupt and gullible the local judges must be. The vampire’s opinion of Los Angeles dove even further into the gutter.

 

Faith wondered absently exactly when the Devil might be coming for her soul. Regardless, at least Lindsay was cute. Maybe she’d pay his office a visit later, and work out her more heterosexual frustrations.

 

The Watcher’s Council proved to be an easy obstacle to overcome. As distant as they were before, they were equally unconcerned with Faith’s re-emergence. Just as they took Wesley’s word about her rogue status, they did so now with her reformation. They reinstated him to be her Watcher, and returned to their silence. The worldlier Wesley and the newly driven Faith made a better start than before. Rocky, but functional.

 

Now that Angel Investigations had even larger teeth and Council backing through Wesley, the landscape of Los Angeles changed very quickly. News of a Slayer in the city soon reached all hot spots of the underworld.

 

Including Sunnydale.

 

Less than two weeks later, Faith was unsurprised to feel the approach of Buffy, the connection to her counterpart white-hot with anger.

 

Faith laid out the plan: They would meet, as was now the norm, on the rooftop. Cordelia would show Buffy the way up, and everyone would stay out of the way, no matter what they heard. It was safer that way.

 

All too soon, the Slayers, light and dark, stood across from each other in the L.A. sunset.

 

“Why am I not surprised to find you out of jail?” the petite blonde said, breaking the silence.

 

“No sense drawing this out,” Faith said, stepping forward. “Let’s draw lines right here. You ain’t family. You ain’t my friend. What I do is absolutely none of your fucking business.”

 

“You’ll always be my business.”

 

“Yeah?” Faith stepped forward again. “Wanna try again, B?”

 

“Does the Council know you’re out?”

 

“Ask them. I ain’t telling you shit about me. Get gone, B.”

 

“No. You get gone.”

 

“Make me.”

 

“Oh, I will,” Buffy said with a smile. “I just have to make one little phone call overseas.”

 

Faith grinned in reply. “Try it.” She leaned forward tauntingly. “I dare you. Call, right now.”

 

Buffy’s smile faded, though she displayed a sense of satisfaction. “So they do know.” The blond shook her head. “Guess they really are as evil as I think they are.”

 

“Whatever lets you sleep at night, Blondie. We done?”

 

“No. You will leave L.A. tonight.”

 

“Fuck you.”

 

“Do you really think you have a choice? That I’m going to let you stay and screw around with our lives again?”

 

“Bring it, bitch.”

 

“I’m sure you did something about your record. How about I get Willow to put it all back?”

 

Faith dialed for her best game-face. Not out of fear; but the guilt of having to once again threaten the redhead. “My record was wiped over the table, nice and legal, by a federal judge thanks to a friendly contact of Angel’s in Wolfram & Hart.” She smiled her wickedest smile as Buffy’s eyebrows hit the ceiling. “If you sic Red on me, I sic the demon lawyers on her. You really want to do that to your friend, B?”

 

“You sick, twisted bitch,” snarled Buffy.

 

“You stupid, pathetic schoolyard bully,” Faith returned, matching the blonde’s tone perfectly.

 

Buffy’s eyes widened in anger. “What did you call me?”

 

“A fucking bully, B. That’s what you are. You have no legit reason to be here, but you hate me so much you just gotta try. Well, try, bitch. Fucking bring it! I won’t just roll over for you this time.”

 

“Oh, is that what you did last time?” Buffy smiled sweetly, her voice now playfully childish. “Last time, I seem to remember stabbing you with your own knife.”

 

“I know.” Faith felt the adrenalin dripping. She felt the Slayer rising. Her smile of promised death and pain growing. “It felt good. Pain always feels good.” Again, she stepped forward. This time, Buffy stepped back, raising her arms defensively. “You were a good little girl, B. You helped me kill myself. I didn’t die, but that was my fault, not yours.”

 

This time, Buffy had no comeback.

 

“Now, I got a real life in the works. Real friends. My slaying. And I will fight for it. And no one, not you, not your second-rate witch or that fucked up inbred group of losers and gimped vampires will take it away from me!”

 

“You’re living in a dream world, Faith.”

 

“You’re the one stuck in the illusion, B. You want to know what that illusion is?”

 

“That you actually think you’re something when you’re less than the dirt on my shoe?”

 

“Nah. The illusion is that you think you’re the Slayer.”

 

A moment of silence fell as Buffy bristled, outraged. Faith felt a deep satisfaction to have finally said those words.

 

“I am,” Buffy growled, once she had control of her voice.

 

“You ain’t. You haven’t been since 1997. Kendra was the Slayer. The Slayer. Now I am. You? You’re just an unnecessary extra that should count herself lucky to be alive.”

 

“You’ll never be the Slayer.” The slight waver in Buffy’s voice widened Faith’s grin so that her teeth were on full display.

 

“Already am. And you know the best part, B? Even if you killed me, you could never take it back. Some other girl would be up, and you’d still be the living dead chick!”

 

“Shut up!”

 

“S’okay, B. Leave the slaying to the real Slayer. You can go find a nice old-age home to retire in. We’ll be fine without you.”

 

“NO!” Buffy shouted, darting forward.

 

“Finally,” Faith whispered, steeling herself for the coming pain.

 

With a scream of rage, Buffy descended on Faith, punches and kicks rattling off as fast as she could throw them. Faith found herself fully on the defensive. She wasn’t surprised. Buffy was always the better fighter. She rode out the relentless onslaught, never quite fast enough to move completely on the offensive, barely quick enough to block the strikes.

 

That was fine. Let the pain come. It wasn’t time to push, yet.

 

A right hook smashed into her face, sending her spit halfway across the roof and dropping her to one knee. Faith smiled at Buffy and stood, resuming the battle. A roundhouse sent her spinning to the ground with an incessant ringing in her ears. Again Faith stood, taking several blows before she could find her rhythm again. A snap kick to her knee sent her down again with a painful grunt; through the pain, Faith finally found what she desired: The opening she was holding out for.

 

As Buffy’s fist descended towards her, she threw herself fully into the Slayer, drawing every ounce of power from her core. Her hands snapped up lightning quick to catch Buffy’s arm, twisting and pulling it into a joint lock, firmly secured at the wrist and elbow. With a primal roar Faith sent Buffy flying over her and to the ground, straining the blonde’s arm in unnatural directions. Faith bent Buffy’s wrist back further and further, until a tortured scream erupted from the blonde’s lips.

 

“Are you still feeling like the Slayer now, B? Are you?”

 

Buffy’s answer was to writhe and buck, but Faith merely pressed against the joint harder, winning another scream from her opponent. Of all the martial arts Faith knew Aikido was her best, taught relentlessly over her short time as a Slayer in Boston. She was grounded perfectly, giving the blonde Slayer none of her body weight to use as leverage. Try as she might, Buffy could not escape.

 

“You are nothing to me, Buffy! Nothing! This is my life now! You ain’t part of it! If I want to sun on the fucking beach in Sunnydale, it’s still my goddamned life! You hear me?! You don’t talk to me, I don’t talk to you! You. Will. Fuck. Off!”

 

“No!”

 

“I’m done being your bitch!”

 

“You don’t get to walk away from what you did!” the smaller Slayer howled, doubling her efforts to escape.

 

“I know hurt you!” Faith shouted, again reinforcing her hold. “I get it! I raped you!

 

Buffy sucked in a breath, going limp.

 

“Come on, let’s call it what it really was! Fuck all that body-switching magic bullshit! I raped you! I used your boyfriend to do it! That means I raped him, too! I did it, and I will regret it for the rest of my life! I’m so fucking sorry I did it.”

 

Faith paused a second, bracing for Buffy’s renewed struggle, or a scathing comeback. But Buffy remained silent, her breathing fast and labored.

 

“Nothing else I’ve done compares to that, and I want more than anything to take it back. But I can’t. I can’t give you back that piece of you I stole. Just like you can’t give me back what you stole when you gutted me.”

 

Silence. Breathing. Peering down, Faith winced at the quiet tears streaming down Buffy’s face.

 

“I don’t want to fight anymore, B. I just want to live my life and do my job the best I know how. Give me that. Tell me we’re done.”

 

A small eternity passed before the answer came: The tiniest whisper from below her. “We’re done.”

 

“If I let go, are you gonna start up again?”

 

“No.”

 

With a steadying breath, Faith released Buffy’s arm and quickly danced back several feet, wobbling slightly from the supreme beating the smaller girl had given her. The blonde was more than capable of both lies and convincing feints. Setting an opponent up for a trap like Faith had done was very much a play taken out of Buffy’s book of moves. But Buffy stayed prone, her eyes staring at nothing, her tears still coming.

 

“I wish I could be something to you, B. I always did. I can feel you all the time, just at the edge of my senses, and it drives me insane that we’re enemies. But I don’t know how to fix what I did. I don’t know how to make it right. So, I think we’re done with each other.” The words choked Faith as they emerged. They caused her eyes to water painfully. With a sigh, Faith brushed her cleaner arm across her face and started backing towards the door to the stairwell, feeling dizzier by the moment. “I’m going down.”

 

“Wait.”

 

Buffy slowly climbed to her feet, holding her strained arm gingerly. “I want to have my say.”

 

“Say it.”

 

“I accept your apology.” Faith jerked in surprise as the other girl continued. “I accept that you have your own life. Live it. Whatever. But leave me alone. Stay away from Sunnydale. If … If some apocalypse happens and we need you—”

 

“Have Giles call Wesley.”

 

Buffy nodded, wiping her eyes and nose. “Fine. But leave us alone. We’ll leave you alone. I …” Empty, haunted hazel eyes met with Faith’s dark orbs. “I’m tired, Faith. I’m so tired. I … this is too much. This summer has been … bad. I just dealt with a Transylvanian-sized mind job. What you said … it’s too much right now.”

 

Faith took in the haggard, defeated look of the blonde, and nodded. “I’m out. Unless you have an emergency, you never have to see me again. Live and let live.”

 

“Agreed.” Buffy’s eyes hardened again. “If you threaten any of my friends again, I’ll finish what I started.”

 

Faith matched the gaze with her own. “If you, Willow, or anyone else attacks me unprovoked, out of revenge or for any other reason, I will kill. No conversation. No warning. I’m not a different person, B. Just a tiny bit more mature. I want no beef with you now. But if I feel a spell coming my way, you’ll find Red missing her head. I promise you.”

 

“No more!” Buffy shouted, clutching at her temples and bending over as though her head might explode. “No more, Faith! No! No one will attack you! I’ll make sure of it! No threats! No vengeance! Nothing! Just done! Done!”

 

“Exactly what I want.”

 

“Fine. It’s over. Let’s … let’s get out of here.” Buffy gestured weakly towards the stairwell.

 

“After you.” Faith held the door open for Buffy who stomped past and descended with heavy steps. Faith followed slowly, holding the wall for support. She kept her sigh of relief inside, lest Buffy’s enhanced hearing pick up her weakness. Despite the bravado, the fighting, the pain of reliving the past, and the very physical pain she was now in, Faith had succeeded. Tentative as it was, tested as she knew it would be, she had forged a peace between Slayers.

 

She’d even won a fight against Buffy, though a bystander looking at the two would disagree. Buffy looked entirely uninjured, her arm mostly recovered already. Faith, on the other hand, was battered and bruised, with blood tricking from her forehead, lips, nose, and arms. Racoon eyes featured prominently in her morning plans. It would be at least a couple days before her Slayer healing took care of everything.

 

Still, it was mission accomplished. Now to bed. Quickly, before she fainted in the hallway. Already she was sliding along the wall in the ever more difficult struggle to remain upright.

 

“Faith?”

 

Faith glanced up to see Buffy a ways in front of her, looking at her contemplatively. The anger, the hatred, all of it was gone. The Slayer was asleep, turned off. Instead, an intense longing and sadness dimmed her eyes. Faith’s own emotions stilled, her Slayer receded to her core. They gazed at each other for the first time as women, rather than Slayers. One with a sore arm, the other beaten half to death. Hazel and chocolate eyes, darkened by trauma after trauma inflicted upon them both.

 

So much pain.

 

“Sup?” Faith came to a stop, leaning completely against the wall. “I’m a little punch drunk here, B. I’d like to lay down.”

 

“I know.” The blonde stepped forward. “I’m … ashamed … that I did this. I was angry.”

 

Faith closed her eyes as Buffy reached up – if this was a feint, she was well past the ability to defend herself. There were no reserves left to tap. Buffy didn’t hit her, though. She gently cupped her cheek. Their connection exploded to life, a warm buzzing deep within her core, soothing and exhilarating all at once. She couldn’t help but lean into the touch as Buffy smoothed away blood and sweat with her thumb.

 

All of Faith’s thoughts fled. All her worry and concern disappeared. Their fight on the roof vanished.

 

Cracking an eye open, Faith could see Buffy’s mouth open to speak, but the blonde had no words. Faith tried to move, but her limbs were like jelly.

 

“Help me to my room, please,” Faith asked quietly. She felt Buffy move closer and wrap one arm around the brunette’s waist, pulling one of Faith’s arms over her small shoulders. Guided by Buffy’s strength, Faith led her to the room Angel had given her.

 

She submitted calmly while Buffy undressed her, found a first-aid kit and cleaned her wounds, then guided her to lie down and tucked her in. The blonde was almost timid, handling Faith with a gentleness she’d never seen before. When she was finished, Buffy sat on the side of the bed, her hand once again brushing Faith’s cheek.

 

“You are something to me, Faith,” she whispered. “I can’t lie and say you’re not. Don’t ever think you’re not.” Then she bent down and kissed Faith on the forehead.

 

Faith stared up wide-eyed at the older girl, before turning her head to kiss the palm of Buffy’s hand.

 

“What I said about the Slayer,” Faith slurred, her eyes beginning to close, “What I said. I was angry. I just wanted to skip to the fight, you know?”

 

“I know.”

 

“We’re both the Slayer. You and me, we’re connected. One Slayer, two bodies.”

 

 “Maybe.”

 

“I’m gonna do it right, B. I’m gonna make you proud of me.”

 

Again, Faith felt Buffy’s lips on her forehead, and then again on her cheek. She forced her eyes to open as a salty tear fell from the blonde’s face, splashing against her nose.

 

“Can we just forget everything we said up there?” Buffy asked in a watery voice. “I’m sorry. I’m … just sorry.”

 

“M’sorry too, B. We can be sorry together.”

 

Buffy tried to laugh, but a sob forced its way through. Faith reached up and pulled lightly, guiding the blonde to lie next to her over the covers. Faith’s last conscious thought was how good Buffy’s hair smelled as she held the crying girl close.

 

.

 

Angel quietly opened the door, concerned at the continued silence. With the fighting and screaming on the rooftop, he’d expected to see one or the other come downstairs. Instead, more than two hours later, both girls were still missing. After looking everywhere else, they had to be in Faith’s room. As his gaze fell on the bed, he finally allowed himself to smile in relief as tears prickled the corners of his eyes.

 

Faith looked rather the worse for wear, but both girls’ faces looked so serene. Buffy snored lightly, curled up against Faith, her head resting on the brunette’s chest. Despite being asleep, Faith’s arms were still wrapped protectively around the smaller Slayer.

 

Angel closed the door as quietly as he could, and walked away with a skip in his step. Everything would be alright.

 

Chapter end notes:

Thanks for reading! ~OW


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