Adult-FanFiction.org : Buffy

Fragments	By : neytirijade Category: -Buffy the Vampire Slayer > FemmeSlash - Female/Female > Buffy/Faith Views: 5197 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon owns Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel. He also continues to get paid for it. I own a Washburn acoustic guitar and deathly adorable Pomeranian, and get paid through nothing but Social Security benefits.

Chapter List
- 14
- 15
- 16
Angst & a surprise guest appearance. You get all the cookies if you name the crossover. :3
Prompt #17: Forbidden

When Buffy laid out her plans with the Scythe, you were the first to jump on board. An army of Slayers, the weight of the world no longer on you and B's shoulders. Well, okay- technically, just B's. You were never much for carrying something that heavy for too long. That's why you were the "dark" Slayer. That and a whole lot of unhappy childhood bullshit, of course.
As the battle of the Hellmouth is upon you, you see the girls around you gasp with their new power, and you feel an undeserved moment of pride. It doesn't last long, because the thousands of Turok-Hans below converge upon your small group and you're fighting. You're doing what you're meant to do.
It's on the school bus- you're driving, because Robin couldn't anymore, you sure as hell didn't trust B to, and you needed something to fucking do honestly- that the burden begins. Actually, that's a lie. It's on the bus after you've taken the wheel and drove from the crater in the ground when you don't even smile as Buffy, the newly called Slayers, Willow, and the few others without powers begin to cheer at their victory that the burden doesn't begin.
It just returns.
Your whole life, you were never good for anything. That's what Ma told you- you refused to believe her at first, telling yourself she was just pissed because her boyfriend walked out on her the night before. She'd discovered him forcing himself on you, and he smiled viciously as he zipped up his pants and headed for the door: "Your Faithie is a better lay than you, Sheri."
Though you know that hadn't been your fault, that you were barely twelve fucking years old, your mother called you a whore and kicked your ass good after you were alone again. She told you that's all you'd ever be good for, opening your legs or getting on your knees. You didn't throw it back in her face and point out how often you'd found her in one of those same positions because she'd just replace her hands with a belt or something worse.
It ended up that that was all you were good for.
That is, until you became the Slayer. But then, that didn't even last, because you managed to fuck that up too.
You'd spent nearly three years punishing yourself for the shit you'd done. Ain't like you hadn't deserved it; the jury for your trial certainly agreed with that when they found you guilty, as well as the judge when he sentenced you half a lifetime.
When Wesley broke you out, when you returned to Sunnydale with Willow and did whatever you felt was the right thing to do- your path to redemption hadn't gone far locked away in prison, after all- you'd felt important again. Though you'd managed to fuck up a few times; Angel's gratitude toward you, Wesley's acceptance and forgiveness, Buffy's reassurance that the girls who died in that armory hadn't been your fault all spurred you on. You had been thanking your lucky stars that they showed some faith in you after all.
But you're driving now, and you remember your Ma's words again like a sinister whisper that echoes in your ear.
"Worthless."
And the bus may be full of people, but you feel the Slayer energy around you and you fall deeper into the pit of loneliness that you should probably begin to call home.

You're surprised Robin jumps into bed with you so quickly again after everything, because you expected he'd wanted to bring up the stupid relationship shit again.
Of course, it certainly didn't stop him as you laid in the hotel bed together afterwards; sheets soaked with sweat, hearts pounding as you both catch your breath and inhale the scent of sex still lingering in the air.
Robin tells you this will be the last time unless you want something more. He tells you he's fine with casual sex, but he knows how difficult it is when feelings become involved. With that, he looks you in the eye and tells you feelings are most definitely involved this time around, at least on his part, and he doesn't want to go through the motions if it's just gonna turn to shit in the end. Okay, so he doesn't say that exactly, but you always had a more colorful strategy of articulation.
Sighing at your wordlessness, he sits up to look for his clothes when you shudder out a breath. You didn't really mean for that breath to be accompanied by noise of any kind.
"I'm a murderer, Robin."
He looks back at you, and you expect him to shoot you an expression of disgust, or repulsion. Only he doesn't, and he leans down, and he brushes the hair out of your face before kissing you. Soft.
"Were. You were a murderer." Robin's eyes are gentle. Too gentle. He continues: "You're not that person anymore."
You just stare up at him, your face void of communication. "You didn't know her," you counter.
Robin just kisses you again.
"I don't have to."

He gets used to your nightmares, after a while. You'd all gone to Cleveland and began to set up a plan to find more Slayers, to train them. They still don't trust you, not really, though they pretend to. But the hard edges of you begin to soften as time with Robin lengthens, so you don't get easily tousled anymore.
Controlling your emotions is easier than forgetting the past.
The first time, Robin shakes you awake only to find himself pressed against the wall; his feet off the floor, your hand around his throat and your eyes sanguine with angst and ferocity. You let him go when you realize who it is, and as he coughs air back into his lungs you collapse onto the floor and sob.
Strong arms envelop you quickly, and you don't notice how his voice is quiet because of the damage you'd inflicted. You just try to focus on his words, soothing but only making you sob harder.
You wish you could tell him that no, everything's not gonna be okay.
After a while, you begin to let yourself believe it might be. The nightmares settle down after you finally relent and tell Robin about them. How sometimes it's your mom, and your skin tingles at the memory of the sting as her belt connected with your skin. Allan Finch is a regular- he usually doesn't do much but stare up at you, the shock on his face permanent as his heart no longer beats. You tell him how the most violent ones are the boyfriends Ma didn't notice sneaking into your room and stuffing a gag into your mouth before pulling your pajama bottoms off and unfastening their belts.
Sometimes they turn into Allan or Lester Worth as their weight crushes you and their libidos damage not only your body, but your very essence.

Robin has become important to you; you love him in some kind of way, but it isn't the same as how he loves you, and you don't know how to explain it won't ever happen. You're just not capable. Not after the years of proof that people are just not worth it, and then how the one time you allowed yourself to love someone, you screwed it up. And you have to face it every day- face her every day.
No one really understood your relationship with Angel, Robin included. Of course, most of them didn't really care, nor look long enough to start to. Buffy, however, still disapproved. You never explained, and you didn't plan on it; she could make her own assumptions, and you knew no matter what you said she would just regard your words as bullshit or twist them to her desire, to try and prove you were up to something.
One night- probably eight or so months after Sunnydale collapsed- you all were winding down, healing, relaxing after the biggest fight since the destruction of the Hellmouth. You'd had a powerful group of demons and vampires who had joined forces, their objective to destroy as many Slayers as they could.
Angel had traveled from L.A. to help, and amused you to see Buffy's rage when he hugged you or any other time you interacted. It made your heart burn just as much.
But that night, most of you had passed out after the battle, and you were wandering through the halls of the building- Robin asleep in your bed, damn he passed out quick after you had your fun with him- you stopped outside the dining hall, hearing voices inside.
"I just don't understand what it is you won't tell me," Buffy said indignantly.
You could practically feel Angel's frustration in the urgency of his reply: "Buffy, there is nothing to tell. Faith and I have a connection that you nor anyone else would be able to understand."
Buffy scoffs and you roll your eyes. "Yes, the whole murdering people thing-"
"That's enough, Buffy!" Both you and Buffy jump at Angel's voice. "Yes, we have both hurt people. But you know what? How long has it been since Faith has hurt anybody, or killed? Since she's lied or manipulated to get something out of someone? She spent nearly three years in prison- when she easily could have escaped at any time- and escaped because she wanted to help me how I helped her. She is here now because she realized how pointless it is to try and make up for her past sitting behind bars. Faith has a damn good heart, no matter her past mistakes, and the fact that she is here now and by your side even with the way you treat her should prove that. I was the only one to not give up on her when she needed someone, therefore- whether you like it or not- she is and always will be one of my closest friends."
Buffy never commented on you and Angel's relationship again until three months later.
Your feet brought you to the roof of the building- it wasn't the first time, but you'd never gotten this close to the edge before. You'd looked far down to the ground, six stories below, but never allowed yourself to hope it might just be quick and painless to jump headfirst into the concrete.
Now you do, tears streaming down your face silently, as the voices ricochet through your head.
Ma, telling you what you ended up proving to her with every step. The terrified voice of Lester Worth when he knew he was going to die, and you were going to do it. Those words spoken by the First, in the form of your beyond fucked up idea of a father figure, Richard Wilkins III, and the truth you felt in your blood as he claimed you'd never be loved no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself or anyone else otherwise.
Giles' voice when he sat you all down and told you Angel had been killed.
The tingle of a Slayer vibrates down your spine, and you don't hear much of Buffy's words.
"Are you even fucking listening to me? God, you're just worthless!"
Neither of you are surprised when you attack her, a cry escaping your throat that was equal parts feral and devastated. This is the first time you'd ever fought her full strength; in reality, you never truly wanted to hurt her before. You loved her. And you always held back.
Not this time.
Your rage is too blinding, and before you know it, you're both a bloody mess. Buffy can barely stand; you know you've broken a lot of bones in each other, so you're no better off.
The two of you have parted to size each other up again, to spot weak points on the enemy and use it to your advantage. But the second you get far enough away to do so, she takes one look at you and, her own anguish and exhaustion taking its toll, Buffy lets her knees give out from under her and falls onto the ground.
Her quiet sobs and the sight of her on the ground dissolves all of your former rage. Now, tears slide down your face again, and you kneel next to her until you're weeping together in a mess of blood and limbs.
What happens next is too much for you to handle, but it makes sense. Buffy kisses you, and before you know it you wind up in her shower. The marble floor is colored sanguine as your wounds are washed under the hot spray, but you don't notice it much when you slide your fingers into her molten sex and she moans against your tongue.
But she doesn't let you pleasure her, no; not until she's thrusted three of her own between your legs and fucked you until you came at least three times, to the point where you could barely stay on your feet. It isn't until you stumble out of the shower together, wet and tangled amongst each other, and you push Buffy onto her bed that she lets you touch her again.
Neither of you speak when you wake up later, and it kills you but you know it's for the best.
You don't believe the pain could get much worse, but you slip out of Buffy's room and close the door, only to look up and feel the dread seeping into your skin when you lock eyes with Robin.
He knows immediately, and looks at you with an unreadable expression clouding his face for a long moment before he turns and walks away.
Later, you hesitantly return to the room you share with him only to find his belongings gone.

With Angel's death, Robin's departure three weeks ago, and the way Buffy refuses to even regard your presence, you disappear in the middle of the night after deciding you'd save the gun stolen from the armory for later. Most of you didn't give a flying fuck about anyone at the school, but you couldn't bring yourself to make any one of them walk into your room only to find your brains on the wall.
Over the course of the next three months, you find yourself up and down most of the East Coast. Florida was kinda pretty, but a shit ton of assholes and humidity later you booked it on up to Tennessee. North Carolina. Rhode Island. You'd spent about three minutes off the bus in Boston before booking it back up the steps, buying a ticket for New York with the money you made searching for Slayers.
Willow had tracked you down about six days after you left. You were on Mackinac Island, breathing in the peace of the Amish country around you while your hands itched to find the .45 tucked away in your bag. You told her you wouldn't come back, then before long found yourself on the phone with Giles and making a deal regarding your departure.
You could go where you wanted, but Giles would call to relay a location of another Slayer for you to send to them. While you agreed, you told him you would do it your way. You find them if and when you want to find them.
So you're in New York, partly because you didn't know where else to go and because you reckon Giles will be pissed that you hadn't found the Slayer he called about weeks ago. You tossed your phone into the Rhode Island water after he'd called you about a thousand times.
Most of the time, you aimlessly wander through the streets and save who you can. Slay what needs to be slayed, usher off the newest recruit toward the way of Ohio. You're starting to become numb, and you're not sure if you're okay with it or not.
You find yourself sliding into a stool at some nameless bar, wincing at the latest injuries from earlier and nodding up at the approaching bartender. He's handsome: strong muscles, chiseled face, warm smile, and you shudder because he reminds you of Robin.
"What'll it be tonight?" He asks you.
Wishing you could find it in yourself to return the smile, you look around casually and answer: "Jack. Leave the bottle."
There's a hesitance you feel rather than see, and you just look down at the bottle as he hands it to you, handing him what you owe and unscrewing the cap. The burn of the whiskey down your throat is welcomed. The other fires inside you have died and ache with their absence, so outside pain is usually preferred.
"Nice choice," you hear a smooth voice beside you, but you don't look at its owner, you only nod. But she chuckles almost sardonically. "Alright. Well, hey. Mind sharing? Don't have much money to provide for my own alcoholism tonight."
This makes you look over at her. Only now do you feel the buzz of the Slayer connection, and you take in the stranger it reverberates from. With onyx hair and pale skin, she's an absolute twig in a leather jacket. You can't help but smirk in approval at the sight of her, thinking to yourself that the woman has a similar taste in clothes as you do which is certainly a rare occurrence. But when you meet her eyes, it startles you.
You know you're two separate people; for instance, you've got chocolate eyes and hers are green. She's got a couple inches on you, though your body is thicker. You couldn't be more different, in some ways.
But looking into her eyes is like looking into a mirror.
When you get yourself presentable for the public, you always try and avoid looking into your own eyes. Your heart aches violent in your chest when you accidentally catch your own gaze, because you can see everything in them. All the shit you did, all the memories of the abuse you endured and the men you killed. Robin's face as he watched you leave Buffy's room, or the unaffected way Buffy spoke to you later.
Yeah, this chick's probably gone through different situations. But you know, by the way the woman's expression changes from amused to mirror the surprise and intrigue etched into your face, that she sees it too. That your experiences probably only differ by semantics.
You finally shake out of your stupor, and hold her gaze as you hand over the bottle of Jack Daniels. "I'm Faith," you offer, and she takes a swig of the Jack with a smirk on her face.
It takes a moment, but she finally replies, after looking you up and down. "Jessica."
There's something tangible there, and you want to explore this girl. But you've got to send her to Cleveland- at least, do your damnedest, 'cause if she's like you she ain't gonna go anywhere she doesn't want to- and hell if you're going to let down your walls just 'cause she's hot and you've got shit in common.
You remember, about a month ago, offhandedly mentioning the sex appeal of another Slayer in Virginia to Giles. He'd told you he wouldn't allow that kind of behavior- teacher and student relations, teacher and teacher, or vice versa. Said no one wanted a similar experience to yours and Robin's relationship.
The leather-clad mirror image of you at your side pushes the whiskey bottle back at you and raises an eyebrow. You just shake your head.
Eh, fuck the rules. Giles is gonna kill you. Mirror image? Well, shit. You always knew you were hot.
- 14
- 15
- 16
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Fragments