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The Awakening by aliceinwonderbra

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*Please do not download, distribute, or post this story anywhere without my permission. That includes saving it and sharing it with others, even if you are not taking credit for writing it.

Faith’s got a ritual for when she’s lying in bed at night, listening to the sounds of the city outside. It started when she was in prison, but even now, sometimes she still closes her eyes and drifts away. In her fantasy world, it’s always just the two of them, roaming around kicking vamp ass. Things are simple again, like they were when she first came to Sunnydale. The Mayor’s not even a blip on their radar yet, and there are no other slayers. It’s just Buffy and Faith, the Chosen Two, doing what they were made to do. She can see Buffy’s smile, hear her little quips, practically feel the ground under their feet when they give chase to a couple of vamps. They win every fight and they never get hurt. And always, after they’re done slaying, they smile and drift closer, their mouths and bodies fitting together like matching pieces of a puzzle.


 


Faith’s thought about it so often and so intently that the fantasy almost feels real to her now. She knows how Buffy tastes. She can feel that soft, golden hair sliding through her fingers, hear the wild beating of their hearts as they cling to each other. The nights she allows herself to fall into her fantasies are the ones when she hates herself most, when she feels closest to falling off the wagon and going rogue. She hates the power Buffy still holds over her, the way she haunts her and reduces her to a sixteen-year-old girl with a burning crush. There’s a slippery, seductive voice that tells her the way to be free of Buffy for good is to embrace that hatred and run with it. So far she’s been keeping her feet planted firmly on the side of good, but Faith knows better than anyone how it feels to teeter close to the edge with no reason to hold on. 


 


She’s gotten very good at compartmentalizing. These days, she hardly even thinks about Buffy or what happened in Sunnydale. She doesn’t dwell on her pathetic daydreams or the way that even the thought of Buffy still makes her feel helpless and out of control. For the most part, she just does her slaying thing and goes about her business in Cleveland. It feels good to have a purpose here, and she’s even surprising herself with her willingness to let Robin hang around. So when she gets called to Scotland, she’s not exactly anxious to hop on a plane.


 


But Xander says they need her. Buffy’s tucked away in a magically induced sleep and someone’s gotta be the senior slayer until they get her back. Apparently, the only way to break the spell is for someone who truly loves her to kiss her. Damn near everyone in the castle has tried by now, and apparently neither familial nor platonic love will suffice as they’ve all been unsuccessful. The next most likely candidate is thousands of miles away, seemingly working for the other side now that he’s Wolfram and Hart’s head honcho. Nobody’s made the move to call him yet, but as the days become weeks, they’re running out of other options.


 


Faith’s been to the castle in Scotland just once before, but when she arrives, she can sense the difference. Without Buffy at the helm, the place feels empty. Willow is running herself almost ragged, between sitting with Buffy’s still form night and day and trying to find some other way of waking her up. Faith offers to sit with Buffy, mostly just to be alone. There are hundreds of slayers here and many of them are anxious to get a peak at the second of the slayers. It was a long flight, and Faith’s not up for the curiosity or the constant assault of slayer energy prickling her senses. She’s not too worried about being alone with Buffy anyway. It’s not like she can incite Faith to violence when she’s unconscious.  


 


When Faith closes the bedroom door behind her and looks over at Buffy, she’s not prepared for the sick feeling that seizes her heart and squeezes. It feels so wrong seeing her laid out like this, helpless and unaware. This is Buffy, the chick who gets stabbed through the abdomen and then not only gets back up to keep fighting, but leaps off a rooftop onto a speeding school bus. No way should she be so still and quiet.


 


To take her mind off the weirdness of the situation, Faith walks around the room for a while, snooping through Buffy’s photos and books. There’s nothing older than a year in the room, for obvious reasons, but there’s a framed sketch next to her bed that Faith leans in to study. The drawing is rough and unprofessional, but it’s still clear it’s meant to be a younger Buffy and Dawn, flanking their smiling mother.


 


Without meaning to, Faith glances over at the bed. Buffy’s lying on her back, her breathing deep and peaceful. Feeling awkward even though she’s basically alone in the room, Faith forces herself to perch on the bed beside her, like they’re friends rather than former enemies turned allies. “Hey, B,” she says, just like she always has, as if everything’s normal.


 


Someone has brushed Buffy’s hair over her shoulders so it frames her face, and Faith thinks it doesn’t look quite right. Her hair should be back, out of her face for slaying. Gently, she pushes the shining hair aside, letting it flow onto the pillow around Buffy’s shoulders. Buffy doesn’t so much as twitch, even as Faith’s fingers linger against her cheek. Is Buffy still in there? Is she dreaming? She notices her traitorous thumb is still tracing Buffy’s jaw and snatches her hand back. Clearing her throat, she mutters softly, “You’re gonna wake up, you know.”


 


There’s no response and Faith sits in silence, watching Buffy’s sleeping form. Her cheeks and lips are still rosy. Faith was expecting her to be pale and maybe sick after being asleep for so long, but Buffy looks like she could jump up at any moment. Realizing with a start that she’s been drifting closer and closer, Faith leaps up from the bed. Jesus. What the fuck is she doing? She’d been on the verge of kissing Buffy. She’s gotta get it together. She’s here to lead the baby slayers while B’s out of commission, not be her knight in shining leather and wake her up from this. It’s not like she could do that anyway.


 


But even as she tells herself that, Faith knows it’s not true.


 


It doesn’t matter that they tried to kill each other, or that she knows Buffy’s never gonna reciprocate her feelings. Buffy’s a stuck up bitch with a huge superiority complex and no sense of humor whatsoever, but God damn it all, Faith fucking loves her. It’s not something she’s spent a lot of time analyzing. In fact, she’s tried her hardest to ignore it, but love’s like all pain; live with it long enough and it becomes a part of you. No matter how hard she’s tried not to feel it, how unwilling she’s been to face it, it hasn’t gone away. Her feelings for Buffy are just there, like being a slayer or breathing.


 


Looking at Buffy now, the truth slaps Faith in the face. She loves her. In spite of the way she’s tried to carve Buffy out of her with manacles and knives, with poisoning her boyfriend and stealing her body, with repentance and atonement, and thousands of goddamned miles in between them, Faith loves Buffy. In spite of herself, Faith loves her. And she can wake her up.


 


The thought is absolutely terrifying. Not only will Buffy know, but everyone else in the castle will find out too. Faith makes it halfway to the bedroom door before she forces her feet to stop moving. She’s afraid and she’s pissed the fuck off. It’s so perfectly fucking Buffy to go and get herself cursed by some Sleeping Beauty bullshit and ruin the little peace of mind Faith’s managed to get. She thinks about just closing the distance to the door and doing what she came here to do… but there’s bravery in Faith too. She’s a slayer and she’s clawed her way back up from Hell to be one. This is what being a slayer means. She faces the things no one else can and she does it no matter what the consequences are. Because it’s the right thing to do.


 


And this is Buffy at stake. The world needs the slayer. Faith needs to know Buffy’s alive, awake, and fighting. Even though she knows nothing’s gonna change if she does this. She’ll go back to her life in Cleveland, and Buffy will go on pretending she doesn’t exist.


 


Before she can chicken out, Faith strides to the bed and slides onto her knee so she’s hovering over Buffy’s unmoving body. This will be their first and last kiss, but she’s gonna remember every second of it. Her heart’s thudding so hard she can barely hear her own ragged breathing over the sound of it.  She wipes her suddenly nervous palms on her jeans before carefully cupping Buffy’s face in her hands. Buffy’s lips part just a little as Faith tilts her head back. Faith takes a deep breath and then she’s pressing her lips against Buffy’s, hoping like hell it works.


 


It takes a few excruciating seconds, but Buffy slowly comes alive under her. Her lips move against Faith’s as she straddles the line between waking and dreaming. Faith knows she needs to stop, to pull away—the mission’s accomplished—but this is the only chance she’s ever gonna get and she can’t make herself let go just yet. Her fingers thread into Buffy’s long hair, and she pours everything into the kiss, all the bottled desire, pain, and longing she’s been feeling for five years. It’s an apology and a declaration; it’s the story of two broken hearts that could have healed together but only ever tore each other apart. It feels like a beginning; but when she hears Buffy’s startled intake of breath, Faith knows it’s only an ending.


 


XXXXX


 


She’s not delusional, so she doesn’t bother hoping she’ll hear from Buffy. Back in Cleveland, life goes on. Things end with Robin, and it comes as no surprise. Faith stays out all night slaying and spends her days training the junior slayers not to get killed. And as much as she tries not to think about her, Buffy still makes herself at home in Faith’s mind night after night.


 


It takes the emergence of serious evil to get the two of them into the same country again. Things on the Hellmouth have taken a definite downward spiral, and by the time the third of her juniors gets picked off, Faith swallows her pride and calls for reinforcements. She’s done her best. She’s picked up extra patrols and doubled up on training sessions with the newbies. She’s been running herself ragged but she doesn’t care. Faith feels responsible for these girls and she can’t stand the thought of one more of them dying on her watch.


 


When she tells Willow about the situation, she expects her to send Kennedy, maybe Vi or Rona. Instead Faith feels her spine light up like the Fourth of July just moments before the knock sounds on her apartment door. Two of her juniors are sitting on the couch and they exchange glances, feeling something similar. When Faith yanks the door open, Giles gives her what passes for an apologetic look and steps inside.


 


Buffy crosses the threshold. “Faith,” she says, ignoring everyone else in the room as her eyes immediately lock on Faith’s face.


 


“B,” Faith manages to mutter, and she can’t help it, her eyes sweep up and down Buffy’s body quickly. She realizes she’s been caught when Buffy’s cheeks flush. “What are you doing here?” Faith asks accusingly, then catches herself and says, “I mean, you didn’t have to come.”


 


Stepping fully inside, Buffy drops her bag beside the door. “You’d come for me.”


 


Faith’s eyes narrow, unsure what Buffy’s trying to do by bringing up her trip to Scotland.


 


“Uh, Buffy?” A girl Faith’s only now noticing speaks up nervously.


 


“Oh, sorry!” Buffy smiles sheepishly. “Guys, this is Satsu.”


 


The way the girl beams over at Buffy immediately sets Faith on edge. She keeps her eyes trained on Satsu as Giles fills them in on the situation. Satsu’s young, beautiful, and definitely got a thing for Buffy. The naked adoration in her eyes is hard to miss, but Buffy seems oblivious. Faith figures that makes sense. Buffy never noticed how she felt either. That doesn’t stop Faith from imagining leaping across the couch and strangling Satsu though.


 


Giles drones on and on, and Faith takes the opportunity to slip into the kitchen, climbing out the window and onto the fire escape. Closing her eyes, she grits her teeth to hold back the scream that’s building in her chest. She does not need this shit right now. She’s got enough problems without Buffy showing up here to fuck with her head.


 


“Faith?” Buffy asks tentatively, leaning out the window. “Are you okay?”


 


“Five by five,” she says, hoping Buffy will go away.


 


Instead Buffy climbs out after her, filling the too small space with her presence. Faith can smell her perfume and the vanilla body lotion she uses. Their hands brush when Buffy grips the railing, and Faith yanks hers away, dropping it to her side.


 


“Willow said it was getting pretty bad over here,” Buffy says. “I thought—well, I thought you could use my help.”


 


“And the girl?” Faith grunts.


 


“Satsu? She’s new, but she’s really good,” Buffy says, sounding proud.


 


Clenching her fists so tight her nails bite into her palms, Faith tells herself to let it go. Buffy came to help, and they certainly need it. But Faith’s never done the sensible thing and when she hears her own name roll softly off Buffy’s tongue, something in her snaps.


 


“Are you sleeping with her?” Faith demands, not caring that she has no right to ask the question. She’s gotta know. Everything she’s been working for in Cleveland is being destroyed, one dead slayer at a time, and if Buffy’s dared to show up here with a girlfriend, it’s going to be the final straw. Faith’s been walking a tightrope for weeks, managing to keep herself in the air. Buffy being here is throwing her off balance.


 


“Of course not!” Buffy huffs. “Not that it would be any of your business if I were.”


 


“Not my business?” Anger flares in Faith’s stomach as she looks at her. “You show up in my town, uninvited, with her and you think it’s none of my business when you know I fucking—” She cuts herself off abruptly, spinning on her heel to put her back to Buffy. She’s about to lose it. And she’ll be damned if she’ll ever let Buffy see her cry.


 


“I came because you needed help!” Buffy says back, sounding a little angry herself, “and I brought her because she’s the best I’ve got.”


 


Faith doesn’t say anything and neither does she turn around.


 


“Do you honestly think I would have brought her here if something was going on?” Buffy asks, softer now. “You think I would do that to you?”


 


Not trusting herself to say anything, Faith just shrugs. She knows she’s got no claim to Buffy, but she can’t help the relief pooling in her stomach all the same.


 


“Faith,” Buffy says, and Faith thinks she loves the way her name sounds falling from Buffy’s lips like that. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”


 


Faith’s eyes cut to her for a moment, and it’s on the tip of her tongue to point out the thousand different ways in which she’s tried to let Buffy know. But she holds back. Faith doesn’t put herself out there. She’s never been good with words, doesn’t know how to say the kind of pretty things girls like Buffy always wanna hear. So she lies. “It’s not a big deal.”


 


“Not a big deal?” Buffy repeats incredulously. “Under the category of deals, this pretty much takes the cake.” Her brow crinkles as she continues, “What does that even mean anyway? Is there like some town that worships cakes and stealing one is the biggest thing you can do?”


 


Faith can’t think of too many things worse than being forced to have this conversation. Buffy’s doing that nervous, awkward babbling thing she does, and Faith’s nerves are stretched thinner than usual. She’s torn between wanting to hit her and wanting to kiss her, which is about on par with the rest of their interactions.


 


“…And then there’s ‘let them eat cake,’ so why is everyone always talking about cake? I mean, it’s not like I don’t like cake. I love it actually…”


 


She thinks about punching Buffy, just to get her to shut up. She’d rather they get into a fistfight than keep standing here while Buffy’s hands twist anxiously and she talks about anything in the world to delay the inevitable conclusion. Faith’s not naïve. She knows how this is gonna go. She’ll spill her guts and get all weepy about it. Buffy’ll tell her she’s sorry, but she just doesn’t see her like that. She can handle the fact that Buffy doesn’t give a shit about her, but she can’t take her pity.


 


“…Ice cream cake’s my favorite.” Buffy finally ends her spiel, and it looks like she’s blushing from head to toe. Faith hasn’t said one word this whole time; she’s just standing there, staring in the opposite direction. “Are you even listening to me?” Buffy asks.


 


“Cake,” Faith confirms.


 


“I—yeah.” Buffy looks at her deliberately, waiting for Faith to return her stare. When that doesn’t happen, she sighs. “We have to talk about this.”


 


Faith does look over now, her face as confident and closed off as ever. “No, we really don’t.”


 


“Faith, come on.” Buffy bites her lip and lays a tentative hand on Faith’s forearm.


 


The instant their skin connects, Faith backs as far away as the narrow space allows. It’s bad enough that Buffy knows how she feels and that she’s shown up here. She’s not gonna stand here while she looks at Faith with those big sad eyes, feeling sorry for her. Faith’s been shoving these feelings away for too long now to dig them up and examine them. “Drop it,” Faith says gruffly.


 


“What?”


 


Faith manages to make eye contact. “I asked you to let it go, Buffy.”


 


“But I—”


 


“Look,” Faith interrupts, shoving some of her wild hair away from her face. “I’m glad you’re okay, B. But I got juniors dying right and left here, and this is really not a good time for you to make everything about you.”


 


Instead of the biting comeback she’s expecting, Buffy doesn’t reply for a moment. They stand in silence on the fire escape, and Faith starts to fidget. She’s gotta move. Gotta get out there and kill something. She turns to go inside, but Buffy steps into her path.


 


Before Faith has a chance to shove by, Buffy’s arms snake around her, pressing their bodies close together. Faith completely freezes. Buffy’s never hugged her, not once in five years, and the idea of it is so strange that it seems impossible she’s actually doing it now.


 


“I just wanted to say thank you. For…breaking the spell.” Buffy’s breath tickles her ear, and she starts to slide away from Faith’s unresponsive body.


 


Finally her limbs cooperate and Faith wraps her arms around Buffy before she can pull away. Her cheek presses into shiny blonde hair, and she takes what she hopes is an inconspicuous inhalation. Buffy squeezes her middle, her slim hands sliding up Faith’s back, and Faith feels her fragile grip on her emotions start to slip. Her life is so fucked. She’s supposed to be the slayer. She’s supposed to protect these girls but she can’t and all she sees all night and day are their mangled, bitten bodies. Julie, Laura, Luz, Julie, Laura, Luz, JulieLauraLuz like some sick fucking movie playing in her head.


 


She realizes she’s practically clutching Buffy to her when Buffy’s fingers smooth her long hair back, and she murmurs, “Hey, it’s gonna be okay.”


 


Faith forces herself to pull away. She has to get herself under control. She can’t afford to fall apart right now. She’s got responsibilities, and Buffy’s grateful for her help, and that’s it. This doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t mean a goddamned thing and it’s so fucked up how all it takes is Buffy’s little hands sliding across her back to make her wanna break down.


 


XXXXX


 


They find the vamp leader who’s been coordinating the attacks against her juniors and dust him and all his boys. Faith takes her time with the leader, hitting him until she’s exhausted herself, and he’s a bloody pulp weeping at her feet. Still, it’s not enough. She goes back to the apartment with Buffy and Satsu, but she’s a mess, so angry that her hands are trembling. When everything is still and silent, she climbs onto the fire escape and grips the railing hard enough to bend it. Tonight, she’s out of defenses, and the darkness she struggles to keep at bay is able to crawl inside her mind. Faith hasn’t felt this kind of rage in a long time.


 


She doesn’t turn when someone steps lightly onto the fire escape behind her. The peculiar feeling in her neck is unique to Buffy; none of the new slayers can make her body react this way. She pulls on her mask—I’m just a good little slayer, no homicidal tendencies here, ma’am—squares her shoulders and says casually, “Thought you were sleeping.”


 


Buffy stops beside her, looking out into the night. “Heard you moving around.”


 


“Sorry.” Faith doesn’t look at her.


 


“You okay?” Buffy asks. Her voice is so gentle it makes Faith’s throat ache.


 


“You know me, B. I’m five by five.”


 


“That why you’re out here at two in the morning?”


 


Faith shoots her a glare. “You’re right.” She lets her fingers slip from the railing. “I’m going to bed.”


 


She’s forgotten how fast Buffy moves. Buffy her in, raising her palms to show she’s not being aggressive. “Wait, please.”


 


Faith stares at her, her eyes cold and dark. The fury she’s barely harnessing bubbles in her chest, wanting to be let out. “Why’d you really come here, Buffy?”


 


“You needed help,” Buffy responds automatically, and Faith is so tired of this. Buffy bailing her out. Buffy dancing around this thing between them. They’re never going to be on the same page.


 


“No,” Buffy says suddenly, her breath visible in the cold air. Her hazel eyes lock on Faith’s. “That was a lie.”


 


Faith’s back slams into the railing, and the whole fire escape rocks precariously as Buffy almost throws herself into Faith’s startled arms. Their lips meet, and for a moment, Faith can’t move. Shock immobilizes her limbs, but Buffy’s not backing down. Her fingers thread into Faith’s hair as she presses their mouths together. As small, cool fingers skim the nape of her neck, it finally sinks in. This is real. These are Buffy’s hands, and Buffy’s mouth, and Buffy’s hips pushing into hers.


 


The strength of her arms crushing around Buffy would be enough to bruise ribs in an average person, but Buffy just wiggles closer. Faith doesn’t know how long they stand there, clutching each other. It might be minutes, it might be millennia. The anger she’s been holding inside fades for the moment, her world narrowing to Buffy’s tongue sweeping her bottom lip and the rush of heat between them. It’s so unexpected and so good that Faith’s brain goes fuzzy. She might actually plummet from the balcony if she’s not careful.


 


After an eternity, or maybe just a moment, Buffy pulls her mouth away, panting and bringing her wide eyes to meet Faith’s.


 


“That’s what you came for?” Faith asks, when she trusts herself to speak. Her fingers slip through silky strands of golden hair, exactly as she imagined.


 


When Buffy laughs, she buries her face in Faith’s shoulder. “Kinda.”


 


Faith takes a deep breath. Nothing in her life is okay right now. But this—this is good. Buffy’s strawberry lip gloss lingers on her lips as she manages a tentative smile. “Sounds kinda crazy, B. You flew halfway around the world to kiss somebody?”


 


“Look who’s talking,” Buffy teases gently before she kisses Faith’s cheek and slides backward out of her arms. “Come on,” she says, crossing the short distance to the window. “Let’s go inside.” Without waiting, Buffy disappears through the window. She extends her hand back for Faith. “You coming?”


 


Faith looks at her own hands. The bruises on her knuckles are fading into clean, clear skin. “I’m coming,” she says, grabbing Buffy’s hand and ducking inside.


 

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