Heart's Desire | By : PencilNeck Category: -Buffy the Vampire Slayer > FemmeSlash - Female/Female > Buffy/Faith Views: 9582 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Chapter 25: Change of Heart
“The tunnel is clear!” Dawn yells over the roar. “Take everyone down!”
Dawn watches as her team makes a trail down the
mountain. The bodies are handed down
into the chopper, a solemn parade of the fallen.
She hears a noise behind her. In the tunnel. Screaming.
She turns back, running toward that sound.
“Dawn!” Emma
tries to stop her. “You can’t…”
“I have to try!”
Dawn’s face is dirty and torn, splotched with blood and sweat. But Emma can see that flash of determination
shining through.
“You mean we.” Emma follows behind. “We have to try.”
They reach the mouth of the cave. The screaming never stops, never wavers,
until now.
The girl is thrown through the air, landing so hard
on the ground that the noise is a squelch instead of a thud. Her sword skids across the stone.
Emma rushes to the girl. Nothing left.
No pulse, no breath, no recognizable features.
Dawn rushes to the sword. She picks it up, weighing it in her
hand. She looks at it. Knows who held it last.
The shadows slink swiftly around the corner,
blocking the bright red glow altogether.
“They’re coming.”
Dawn raises the sword. She
glances at Emma.
“Get behind me.”
********************
He gathers the body into his arms, breathing only
slightly heavily. Places
it gently down in his throne, careful of the head. He can feel them inside. Not dead, but hiding from the pain in
sleep. Unconscious; he remembers the
word.
He cannot wait for them to wake. He touches them, pulling most of their pain
into himself. Memories like visions push
themselves into his head. Two lives,
intertwined. He smiles. He can use this surprising little gift.
He looks at them, willing them to surface. His patience only starts to show cracks when
he hears a quiet grunt.
“How did you like my story, little ones?” He smiles.
“Do you understand now? What you
are here for, what you are meant to do?”
“Telling a story with your fists…” Faith frowns, trying to move her legs. “It’s a novel approach. Get it?”
She coughs up some blood and spits it out. “Story?
Novel?”
He blinks.
“Ahh, forget it.” Faith waves him off.
I got it. Buffy reassures her.
“You’re healing fast. She will return, too soon for my
liking.” He paces. “If I do not have your answer then, I will
take your lives and end this myself.”
“I don’t deal well with threats.” Faith runs her tongue over the gaps in her
teeth. She can still taste blood. “Makes me uncooperative.”
“I am only asking you to try.” He stares her down. “This may be the only chance…”
“I think you’ve done enough talking.” Faith uses her hands, shifting her body into
a sitting position. “I say you kneel
like a good puppy and let me put you out of my misery.”
“Faith…”
Buffy warns. “We should discuss
this.”
“What?” Faith
snaps to the ceiling. “It’s my body he’s
pummeling, my body he’s threatening! You
think he’s telling the truth?”
“I think that we should consider the possibility,
yes!” Buffy is the voice of reason, sorta. “You’re being
rash.”
“I’m being a Slayer!” Faith is getting a migraine. She lowers her voice. “And could you not argue with me in front of
the Bad Guy? It’s embarrassing.”
“Fine.” Buffy turns Faith at the waist to face the
enemy. “Could you give us a minute?”
“Of course.” He looks both amused and annoyed, but
distances himself anyway.
“See? All
better.” Buffy crosses Faith’s
arms.
“Jesus, B.”
Faith wrenches her arms apart and runs her mangled fingers through her
mangled hair. “This is just your
style. A broody guy tells you his
lame-ass sob story and you fall right under his spell!”
“What exactly are you trying to say?” Buffy can feel a growl coming on.
“That you’re a sucker!” Faith wants to scowl. Buffy won’t let her. “People are dead! You’re pretty much dead and I’m running a
close second! I can’t move my damned
legs and you wanna play matchmaker?”
“It’s a battle.
Plans go awry. People die.” He takes a step forward, a glint of malice in
his eyes. “Some of
yours. Seemingly
all of mine. That means you’ve
won.” He sneers at the girl within a
girl. “That is what you said, more or
less?”
Buffy would blink, but she’s too thrown to keep
control.
“Isn’t it?”
He steps closer. “Do you think I
haven’t seen every step you’ve taken in getting here? Do you think it’s a secret, your little tryst
with the demon that set you on this path?”
He looks at her curiously.
“Everybody knows about you. The loneliness, the ache to just be with someone. Anyone. Even if it kills them.”
Stop. Stop it.
Buffy
retreats into Faith, still listening but not wanting to.
“Hey! She’s
on your side!” Faith leans forward,
protecting Buffy in a theoretical sense.
“If it was up to me you’d be splattered on the floor by now!”
“And you!” He
scoffs. “You care about her, even after
what she did to you? Oh, I saw that
little bit of treachery from the front row.
It was so vicious! But surely it
was fair trade for all those past crimes of yours, wasn’t it?”
“That’s it.”
Faith tries to stand. “You’re
dead.” But she can’t get her legs to
obey.
“You two, such weakness.” He rants, beginning to show his anger. “Such undeserving, unholy
cowards. The things you’ve
done. The horror you inflict on one
another. The lies, the
ineptitude. And still, you can’t
see…” He stares directly into Faith’s
eyes, speaking with a new clarity and venom.
“…how anything as terrible as me can feel anything as pure as love.”
“Oh.” Faith’s
shame creeps up in a blush. “Right.” She nods an
apology to him.
“Finally!” He bellows his relief.
********************
Willow looks at Buffy’s body laid out on the
stretcher. The ground under the plane is
safe. Pure. She channels the energy up and through
her. Willow can see inside her now; the
poison carried in her blood, the rough tear through Buffy’s lung, the shredded
artery.
Willow breathes in and out. The wound is easy. Tell the cells to regenerate. Force them to close over the puncture, merge
and knit. It’s the other part…
The poison. Her hand over the hole in
Buffy’s chest, drawing it out and into herself. It feels like fire under her skin.
Buffy’s blood is clean. Willow
takes her hand back, panting and sweating and shaking. So much paler than before. She lies down, already feeling her body
cramping. She’ll need to wait a while
before the poison will come out of her in torrents of vomit, black and thick
and putrid.
She looks over at her best friend’s shell. Willow’s eyes are blurry with tears and pain,
but still she smiles.
Happy Birthday, Buffy.
********************
“That’s the deal.”
Faith puts out her hand. “Take it
or leave it.”
She shivers as his cool hand grasps hers.
“Okay. I’m gonna start now.”
Faith closes her eyes. “You just
keep quiet…”
“…and maybe go stand over there.” Buffy takes over, pointing to the far corner
of the cave. “I can’t get trance-y if
you’re breathing all over me.”
He gives them some space, pacing out a rhythm with
his steps to match her breaths.
Faith rests her hands on her knees. Breathes in slow through
her nose, out slow through her mouth.
God I hope we’re right. Buffy resists the urge to cross Faith’s
fingers.
It’ll be okay. Faith can feel it. This is why they’re here. Together, like
this.
Buffy guides herself into a matching position inside
Faith’s body, hands on knees. The only
sound is breathing, punctuated by the light accent of his steps.
“Hey!” Faith
opens one eye. “Just a thought, but if
this doesn’t work…”
He turns to face her, a question in his eyes.
“You might wanna
try…” Faith grins and gives up on the
idea of tact. “Just kiss the girl.”
“What will that accomplish?” He asks quietly.
“Dunno.” Buffy takes over Faith’s thought. “But it’s how all the best stories end.”
********************
“Who’s on Evac?” Xander’s voice punches through the panic.
“Kappa!” Caridad salutes
him. “We’re waiting on three teams, and
Med 6. You got an E.T.D.?”
“We wait.”
Xander knows who’s still out there.
He peers out the cargo hatch, hoping to see…
Giles stumbles in, a group
of Wiccas trailing behind. He stops, leaning on the frame, catching his
breath. The chopper had dropped them off
just outside Giles’ jogging range.
“Xander… A
word… If you please.” He puffs.
“In… private?”
“There is no ‘private’ here, Giles.” Xander gestures inside the belly of the
plane. Slayers, Wiccas,
and Meds are crammed in every corner, leaving space for the injured to lie in
relative comfort.
“It’s just…”
Giles has his breath, but he’s still at a loss for words. “I do believe… I should say I have some
evidence to support…”
“Spit it out, Giles.” Xander has lost his patience and he’s not
about to go looking for it now.
“It’s going to blow.” Giles does what he’s told. “The volcano. It’s going to erupt in minutes and without Willow, the shield won’t
contain it.”
“You’re sure?”
Xander asks. He only gets a glare
in response. “You’re sure.”
Xander’s eye wanders over the faces of his
army. Bruised and bleeding, faces etched
with the wear and worry of this long night.
Choose them, or choose his friends over them. He needs time to think.
“So, boss.
When do we fly? We need a
deadline!” Caridad
realizes immediately afterwards that she shouldn’t have used that word.
Xander looks back, out toward the glowing red
haze.
“We wait.”
********************
“Where is he?”
Grey eyes flutter open.
“I’m right here, my love.” He looks down at her, aching with
expectation.
“So soon?” She looks around, and down at herself. “This is the same…”
“Is it?” He
stares her down. “How do you feel? Think!”
She tries to stand.
In her failure, she looks at him.
Same eyes, same hatred. “You coward! You’ve
crippled me!”
He can feel the grief rising from his chest,
squeezing his heart and cinching closed his throat. It builds like a tremor and escapes as a howl
that shakes the cavern walls.
“I will not go through this again. I cannot.”
His body becomes thick and heavy to him as he surrenders to his
misery. Promises and handshakes mean
nothing compared to his pain. He will
not let the cycle continue. He will do
as he should have done millennia ago. He
will kill her and surrender to his father.
The two little ones will never know about his duplicity. They will be dead.
“Please, don’t fight.” He begs, lifting Faith’s body into his
arms. “I will make it quick. It will be painless.”
She beats her fists against his chest. She bites him. She tries to throw herself to the
ground. She will not give in to this new
tactic. His sorrow is just another lie.
“Be silent.”
Her body can’t help but obey his command. He wraps his arm around her, holding her
still. His kind does not cry. They have never had need before. But still, his cheeks are wet and his breath
is hesitant.
“Close your eyes.”
He brushes his hand over her face.
Traces her cheek, her jaw. Imagines the face he can almost remember from
so long ago. Runs
fingertips down to her neck, enveloping her throat, beginning to squeeze.
This time he does not resist. He leans in slowly and brushes his lips
against her forehead. Then
her eyelids. Her
cheek. His tears spill down onto
Faith’s skin.
“Goodbye.” He
whispers this last word, his breath on her lips. He touches them lightly with his own,
forgetting the hand on her neck. Forgetting everything but the feel of her. He wants to keep his eyes closed
forever. Keep them both locked here in
this last silent moment.
With a sigh, he opens his eyes. He can’t do it. He can’t kill her even now when he knows
there is no hope left.
He lowers her gently to the steps and turns to his
throne. He is finished. He will remain here until the end of
time. He will not bring her to him
again. He sits, lost and blinded by his
grief.
********************
“We have to go!”
Vi turns to Kennedy. It’s getting hotter. And there’s shaking and rumbling and all
kinds of little avalanches. “We have to
go now!”
“Like hell we do!”
Kennedy runs deeper into the tunnel.
“Faith is still down there!”
“I know that.”
Vi follows her.
“But…”
“But what?” Kennedy turns, frustrated and hiding her pain
in anger. “We leave them behind? We let them die?”
“There’s
nothing we can do.” Vi
has tears in her eyes. “We have to get
out of here! We’re running out of time!”
“Screw that!”
Kennedy shouts at her. “And screw
you!” She turns back and runs toward the
chasm.
“Kennedy!” Vi runs to catch up.
She hears a terrible roar and puts on a burst of speed.
She finds Kennedy standing at the edge of the
pit. The last echoes of Kennedy’s fury
die down as Vi looks down into the darkness.
The stairs have crumbled away in places, hit by some
falling rock or debris. As far as her
eyes can see, there’s no way down.
“I’m sorry.” Vi takes Kennedy’s hand.
“I can’t leave them.” Kennedy forces down a sob. “I’m in charge. I’m the Field Commander. I-I can’t just...”
“You’ll die.”
Vi decides it’s time for plain talk. “And I’ll die because I’m not leaving you
here to die alone! You really want to
sacrifice yourself, and my self, and all the other ‘selfs’ that we could be helping, because you think you owe
them your life?”
Vi takes a deep breath. Yelling solves nothing.
“Well, I guess you do. We all do.”
Vi locks her arm into Kennedy’s. “But I don’t think it’s a debt they’d want to
collect.”
Kennedy doesn’t move. Doesn’t talk. Vi’s not sure that
she’s even breathing.
“Kenn?” Vi tugs harder on
Kennedy’s arm, managing to pull her away from the edge. “I’ll drag you if I have to.”
Kennedy turns to Vi,
helpless. She tries to speak. But she doesn’t know what to say. The only words she can think of aren’t words
she wants to say out loud. Instead she
lowers her head.
“Come on.” Vi grabs tightly onto Kennedy’s hand, and they run.
********************
“What is this place?” A new voice in the chasm.
“A prison.” He doesn’t look up.
“Are you the guard or the captive?” It’s a lovely voice. Chimes and summer breezes.
“Both.” He
wipes his eyes.
“Then you should sneak out while you’re not
looking.” Tinkling
laughter.
“I’m afraid.”
He shields himself from a bright light.
Snaps his fingers to kill the candlelight.
“I’ll go with you.”
It’s still bright. He raises his
head. “Where do you want to go?”
“Home.” He stares wistfully into the radiance.
“I know you!”
The light moves closer. There’s a
shape hiding in the glow. It fades
slightly to reveal a beautiful woman, smiling down at him. “Manah?”
He falls back against his throne. It can’t be.
It’s not real. But
maybe…
“Asha?” He says it, not believing it as the word
forms in his throat. It’s been so long.
She comes up to him, kneeling before him, touching
his face.
“I feel as though forever has passed since I saw
you.” She smiles and her light grows
infinite, shooting through the cave and beyond.
“My love.”
“I am fallen, Asha. I am ashamed.” He cringes, waiting for her to reject him.
“You are Manah.” She takes his hand. “I am Asha.” She places his hand on her chest. “We…
We are.”
He stands, looking down at himself. He is changed. There is a glow inside him. Not white and blinding, but colourful. Red and orange and yellow, with blue and white. It dances under his skin and behind his
eyes. It sparks.
“Hey! Not to
break up the love-fest or anything…”
Faith ruins the moment immediately after coming to. “A little help over here?”
The beings turn to see Faith dragging herself up the
stairs with her hands. Asha looks at her with sympathy.
“And maybe turn down your heartlight
a bit?” Buffy interjects. “It’s all squinty.”
“You really have no taste in music, do you B?” Faith glares sorta
down and to her left.
“Thank you.” Manah turns to them.
“You have our gratitude. We can
all go home now.”
“Yes. Thank
you.” Asha
walks over to them. She crouches beside
Faith’s body. Touches
a place on Faith’s temple with her finger. “Rest now.”
“That burns!”
Faith glowers. Something shifts
inside. She feels it, like a tether
loosening and falling away.
Asha looks up. Then at Manah. “We must go.”
A deep rumble from below
them, bringing down a small tumble of rock and stone.
“My father knows of your sacrifice. He is indebted, as are we.” Asha wraps her
light around Manah.
“It will not be in vain. Do not
worry.”
The rumble becomes a vibration, becomes a
tremor. Rocks fall, smashing down around
them. It fades as Asha
surrounds herself and Manah in her light, and it
expands into white.
Faith covers her eyes with her hands. When her eyelids stop glowing red inside, she
opens them again to find her vision skewed by a large black floaty
thing in front of her eyes. She blinks
it away.
She still can’t see.
There’s no light at all.
“Well, that was different.” Faith deadpans. “And what did she mean? Sacrifice?”
Not sure. Buffy’s voice sounds different. Smaller. Faith?
“But really…”
Faith wiggles around until she’s lying on her back. “I’m thinkin’ she coulda fixed me up if she was so damned grateful. How we’re gettin’
up all those stairs…”
Faith? Buffy sounds nervous. Scared. I’m…
Something’s happening!
Faith feels it too.
Tugging inside her. Like something tearing away. Like Buffy tearing away.
“Stay with me!”
Faith can’t push away the panic.
“Hold on!”
I’m trying! Buffy’s voice matches hers in panic, but not
in volume. It’s like a whisper.
Buffy! Please! Faith
tries to cling to the echo. Don’t just leave me here…
Buffy’s cries fade to nothing.
… alone.
Faith stares into the darkness, hearing the walls come tumbling down around her. She’s not dumb. The light throb of pain is building
fast. It’ll be too much for her soon. She’ll pass out. She knows now, she’s not getting out of this.
She closes her eyes.
She’s tired, and there’s nothing to see anyway.
“I guess this is what they meant.” Faith says it out loud, to no one in
particular. “Sacrifice.”
************************
Inventory. Giles has spent most of his life counting
inventory. First at
the Council, then the library, then the Magic Box. Checking and re-checking, making sure that
things were in their right place, undamaged.
Accounted for.
Even now, it’s what he’s been asked to do. Find out who’s here, who’s injured, and who’s
missing. Inventory.
Dismissing his bitterness as quickly as he can,
Giles turns his gaze to the back of the plane, scanning down the aisle, looking
for what his heart wants to see most.
Either way…
Buffy, lying still and pale
in her cot. Willow beside her, pale but not still. Instead she writhes and sweats as the pain
grabs at her insides. Xander, intact on
the outside, directing people to their sections as the
engines whine to life.
He imagines the faces of the rest. The ones he can’t bring himself to write down
under the ‘missing’ column. Dawn. Kennedy.
Faith. So many more.
Either way… We’re going to
lose.
Giles doesn’t take his seat. He walks carefully to the cargo doors that
are still open, looking down at the volcano from their safe perch miles
away. A sign of
Xander’s reluctance to leave, perhaps.
Nobody’s complaining.
The sky lights up red, and for a moment Giles is at
a loss. Then he feels the shockwave pass
through the plane, pass through him. He
clings to the bulkhead to steady himself, watching the volcano begin its final
and deadly eruption.
Somewhere on the periphery of his perception, Giles
is vaguely aware of the commotion that erupts with it. Screaming, people running
around inside the plane. Xander barking over them to sit down and strap in.
Giles watches in awe, in fear, in desperation. He tries to convince his eyes to look
away. He has seen too much death already
today.
In a blink, there’s a change in the light from red
to blinding. A tower of silver breaks through all the smoke and reaches up into
the sky, pulling with it all the fire and ash and bubbling rock, leaving only a
strange quiet. Giles uses it to breathe.
The night sky, now clear and clean, reveals its
sparkling decoration. Constellations. Unending stars winking down
at him. One, especially bright,
gleams vividly just above the mountain that had been raging just moments
ago.
He will never be able to describe that moment. He will never have the right words, not in
any of the languages he can read and write and speak. But on the occasions that he is asked to try,
he will say it was the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
A black helicopter, its
searchlight shining like a beacon, coming in low and fast.
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