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Complement	By : WEB Category: BtVS AU/AR > FemmeSlash - Female/Female > Buffy/Faith Views: 4884 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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.

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XX � As The End Draws Near
(Part A)

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We can see it all from here ~ The starless night across the mountain side ~ No one left to talk to ~ There's nothing left to say ~ Into the valleys ~ The shadow of death ~ Grief's silently across the darkened sea ~ This is it ~ We stand alone ~ Ynd mnd me ~ We stand alone ~ We can see it all from here ~ Stretched far and wide ~ The barren skies ~ Fighting a silence ~ From deep inside...
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Something was there, murmuring low, softly, almost nonexistent. Like a phantom seen out of the corner of an eye, but gone when the head turned to look. It whispered making no sense, were there words, or just humming? Faintly it called, cajoling, asking, but not pleading, and received no answer. Steadily it grew, determined, no longer asking, now telling. It climbed, clawed, scraped, pushed, and tugged itself up the slope, towards something that it had known occasionally over time, and had been allowed to live in only recently for a brief but glorious time. By sheer force of will, it worked its way up, growing in volume, becoming coherent, demanding, wanting, needing, loving, repeating itself, and with brutal force it tore through the veil...

'getupgetupgetupgetupgetuPgetUpgeTupGetuPGpgETUpgeTUPgETUPGETUP... GETUPGETUPGETUP...... GET UP! GET UP! GET THE FUCK UP! GET THE FUCK UP NOW! NO HIDING! NO RUNNING! NO GIVING UP! NOT NOW! NOT EVER! NOW GET THE FUCK UP! YOU HAVE NOT FAILED! YOU ONLY FAIL IF YOU DON'T EVEN TRY! NOW GET THE FUCK UP! NOW!!!!'

It was screaming, screeching, shrieking, demanding and Faith brought her hands up covering her ears, trying to block out the familiar voice. She shook her head in denial and pressed her hands harder against her ears, but you can't ignore something that lived inside of your head. She did not want to listen to the familiar voice; she just wanted to follow Buffy down into the safety of the abyss. To the place, that Faith had lived for most or chr childhood, most of her life. It was safe there, there was no pain, but there was also no joy, no love, no light, only darkness and silence.

'IF YOU FOLLOW YOU CANNOT HELP. THEN YOU WILL HAVE FAILED. FAILED THEM ALL, FAILED YOURSELF. SO GET THE FUCK UP NOW!'

It was the voice, the part of herself that...

...had been kept safely hidden away...

...hidden from the light...

...coming out only when it meant her survival throughout the years...

...that had whispered to her in jail...

...that had conquered and tamed the dark side within her...

...that held her innocence...

...that had kept on hoping throughout the years...

...that remembered how to love...

...was her strength...

...her will...

...her heart and soul...

...was who she always wanted to be...

...who she was becoming...

...the core of all that she was...

...all that she could be...

...was the she that Angel had seen...

...was the shining bright light inside...

Was who she was...

...who she fought so hard to be...

The voice in her head was Faith...

...and SHE wasn't going back down into the darkness, not after being allowed to live in the light, not without a fight.

Not now!

Not ever again!

Faith staggered to her feet, weeping, as she felt Buffy slipping over the edge, falling, sliding down into the tunnel, into the darkness, leaving only emptiness and silence, in the place inside of Faith that Buffy lived.

Taking a deep cleansing breath, hiccupping, wiping angrily at the tears, Faith searched for her center, searched for it all alone for the first time in weeks. She concentrated trying to make sense out of the echoes she had gotten that had formed images in her mind. She remembered seeing in a movie how a young man had taught his blind girlfriend how to see things that you couldn't touch. Like clouds, or colors. He had filled a sink with bubbles and had led her there and placed a mass of the soapy bubbles in her hands, and for the first time the young blind girl knew what and saw a cloud was. Faith closed her eyes, and led her subconscious down a similar path; let it guide her through the echoes of images she had shared with Buffy that day. And she drifted letting the images come to life inside of her mind.

Tears streaming down her face frehinehind the light blue sunglasses, riding like the devil was nipping at her heels, Faith tore down the road on Wesley's Harley towards the abandoned gas station which was only ten minutes down the dirt road from the run-down rattrap motel.
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Muttering to themselves, the escaped mental patients from Sunnydale General Hospital worked at various jobs around the construction site. There was an illogical sort of synchronization to how they were carrying out their tasks; still it worked more or less. One man was using a blowtorch, another hammering nails, a woman struggled carrying a two-by-four plank of wood, bringing it to another woman who was waiting impatiently with a saw in her hand.

One by one they stopped abruptly, their expressions changing quickly from blankness, to awe, they fell to their knees, bowing their heads. In her ceremonial gown, Glory passed them without a glance, pulling Dawn along behind her, who was followed by Glory's ever present minions. She entered the large warehouse, the minions and humans inside displaying the same looks of awe, all falling to their knees, and bowing their heads. Some of the mental patients begin to chant, "The Key. The Key." Glory ignored them heading straight for the door in the back.

Murk opened the door to the construction site's office a few inches and peeked in. er per peeking in, he opened the door fully and entered, followed by Glory, Dawn and two other minions. Without a word, Glory shoved Dawn down into a chair. Turning her back on Dawn, she raised her hand to her head, rubbed her temple as if she were in pain and sat down heavily.

Out of the corner of her eye, Dawn looked at the minion hovering near, almost over her. He was taller, larger, then the other minions, had a beard, and seemed older. He wore ornate robes, and Dawn thought that he would make a perfect High Priest or High Cleric in a fantasy movie. The thing that stood out the most though was the hint of intelligence in his eyes, something she hadn't noticed in any of the other minions so far.

The large minion reached a hand with some kind of green paste on it towards her. Dawn jerked back in fear. He put the paste on her forehead, ignoring her fear. He started chanting in some language she didn't understand, and Dawn realized that the role she had cast him in the movie in her head, was in fact, really what he was, a High Priest.

Glory looked over at the High Priest, between his droning voice and the groupies she was getting a killer headache.

"What's he doing?" In that irritating, now whiny, sickly sweet voice, Glory asked the room in general.

"I must anoint the key," the High Priest answered her.

"Really don't. Go." Glory waved her hand at the High Priest in dismissal.

"But..."

Yelling, Glory cut the High Priest's protest off, "Out! Get out, get out!"

Murk rushed forward, half pushing, half dragging the priest towards the door, shoving him through it, before following the High Priest out himself. Dawn watched them frightened by the bizarre real life cartoon happening in front of her.

/Please let me be dreaming!'

"You know... you recapture your Godhood and unleash Armageddon..." Glory picked up a rag from the table and walked over to Dawn while she was talking. She began to wipe the green paste off Dawn's forehead, "All of a sudden everybody wants to be part of the inner circle."

When she finished, she saw that there was still some green paste left on Dawn's forehead. She did what Mother's for centuries had done. She wet the rag with spittle from her tongue and wiped away the rest of the green paste from Dawn's forehead.

Dawn wrinkled her brow, and managed to keep the look of disgust off her face. She hatedated it when her Mom had done that, let alone some, Skanky-ass-bad-hair-lunatic-exiled-god - as Fawoulwould have said - who wanted to end the world. All 'cause the stupid bitch - Faith again - had tried to kill off her co-gods in her own world... dimension... whatever... and had gotten her stupid, dumb-ass - Faith again - self exiled here!

Glory stood up with a sigh, she tossed the rag away and almost sounded sincere when she asked Dawn, "You okay?"

"I wanna go home." Dawn hated how weak her voice sounded, but she was scared. Where was Buffy? Where was Faith? Where were the Chosen Two?

"Sweetie... ohh..." Glory grabbed a chair and dragged it over close to Dawn, directly in front of her. She climbed up onto the chair and sat on its back, with her feet on the seat. "You're about to." There was a hopeful look on Dawn's face, and Glory who lived for causing pain, waited a few seconds before she continued. "Not that fake suburban nightmare the monks cooked up for you. I mean your real home." Dawn began crying softly as Glory spoke; Glory gave her a puzzled look. "As the Key. You fit the lock... well, it's like a lock. Hey!" Glory patted Dawn's knee, friendly like. "You want pizza?"

"No," Dawn said softly with a puzzled, frightened look, wondering what kind of game Glory was playing at.

"Pillow? .........I don't know if this thing gets cable. Doubtful..."

Dawn began crying again. "Please. Stop."

"You're nervous."

"Yes."

"I know how you feel. It's your last night." Glory stopped talking as she slid off the back of the chair, and actually sat on it correctly, a large part of her relishing the look of terror on Dawn's face. "As, you know, a human." She picked up Dawn's hand by the wrist, "This body," she started shaking Dawn's hand, to emphasis her point. "... It's just a rental, Dawnie. Being human? It's like a costume for girls like you and me. Being something else - that's what we are."

Firmly, with courage that both Buffy and Faith would have been proud of, courage that she had learned from both of them, the Scoobs, her Mom, and Giles, Dawn told Glory, "Don't"

Glory smiled at her curiously; "What?"

"Don't - call - me - Dawnie." Her teeth clenched, there was fear in her eyes, but she stared Glory down.

Glory dropped Dawn's wrist with a surprised laugh and leaned back against the chair, part of her admiring the courage of the child in front of her, part of her hurt by Dawn's rejection of the affectionate name. "Huh... Wow. You know ... that actually hurt my feelings."

Dawn was surprised to realize that Glory was genuinely hurt, it was in the sound of her almost childlike voice, in the little bit of hurt that had slipped through. Dawn was surprised even further to realize, that she felt bad for hurting her, she had an odd sort of empathy for the exiled God. She knew what it felt like to feel all alone, and unloved. Even if Glory was a hell god, she still had feelings. Didn't she? Besides the logical part or the Buffy part of her brain, as Dawn called it, thought it certainly wouldn't help her to pull a Faith and piss Glory off.

Softly, Dawn apologized to Glory, "I'm sorry."

Her tone snappish, her eyes pinning Dawn with an unspoken accusation. "You did this to me, didn't you? Some kind of spell. You've been hanging with the Wicca, you could've......... But no! It's not magic. It's something else." Glory backed off a little, raising her hand to her head as if in pain, or concentrating hard. The look she gave Dawn was one of pure hate, anger, and Dawn recoiled from it. "Still... It is you doing this."

Dawn shook her head in denial, shrinking even further back into the chair, holding back the tears. "I'm not doing anything, I swear."

"We'll see," Glory moved away and tore open the door, to reveal the minions just waiting outside of it, they had been eavesdropping, she sent another glare at Dawn. "Anoint this thing! Now!"

The High Priest, Murk and Gronk entered the room; Dawn's eyes were round, wide open with fright.

'Someone please help me!'

"Know what they're all chanting for out there, Dawnie? Blood. 'Cause we found out your blood... is the Key to the Key." The High Priest began putting the green paste on Dawn's forehead again while Glory continued to talk in that irritating, sickly sweet tone. "All I gotta do is bleed you dry, the Portal opens up, and I go home. So knock yourself out, girlfriend. Make me feel bad as you can," the evil glint restored in her eyes again, Glory lowered her voice and softly told Dawn, "'cause tomorrow.................... You bleed, little girl!"

'Buffy! Faith! Someone! Anyone! Please, please, please help me!'
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She flew into the gas station's parking lot doing about seventy-five. Her eyes were tearing badly, the light blue sunglasses not helping much in the way of keeping the dust and wind out. At first, it didn't register what it was she was seeing, swerving to avoid a body, she slammed on the hand and foot brakes locking them up. The rear of the bike slid out from under her. She put her right foot down, pushing up; trying to bring the bike out of the slide, but the Harley was too heavy for even her. Faith and the bike wiped out, both sliding through the dirt, and stopping about twenty feet away from where the slide had started. She gave a silent prayer of thanks that neither she nor the bike had slid into a body.

She rose to her feet; her right foot was throbbing and bleeding again from the gashes from the broken coffeepot. She had to fight down the bile that rose up hot and strong in the back of her throat at the sight of the carnage in front of her. The bodies of the dead Knights lay scattered around her feet. Some were twisted in unnatural positions, others with missing limbs, one was decapitated, blood and guts were scattered everywhere.

Fear coiled deep in the pit of her stomach, settled into her bones, making her shiver. She was terrified for Dawn who was now at the mercy of the monster who had done this. She closed her eyes, opening herself to the night and listened. The night air was still, the silence echoing loudly in her ears. She could not detect any living creature in the parking lot, in fact anywhere in the immediate area. Carefully she made her way through the field of the dead, towards the building, hoping to find some clue to where everyone had gone.

The first thing Faith saw as she drew closer to the building was the smashed door. She cautiously went inside; she scanned the room quickly and saw the blood on the counter. Giles blood? She walked over to the pay phone, picked up the receiver and put it to her ear, no dial tone. Her hand had tingled a little when she had touched it and vaguely she wondered if Willow had tried casting some sort of spell on the phone.

She left the customer area of the gas station, entered the garage bay and was greeted by the site of Gregor. There was a pool of blood at his feet and Faith felt her stomach churning again. She saw that he had been almost cut in half by a hubcap and she knew even with their Slayer strength that neither she nor Buffy could have done that, which only left Glory. In an odd sort of way, she was glad that it was Glory and not Bu she she hoped that Buffy never had to know what it felt like to take a human life. Deep down inside she didn't believe that Buffy could ever take a life deliberately, regardless of what the person may have done.

Her eyes fell upon the medical bag on the workbench and she made her way over to it. She knew this didn't belong to any of the Scoobs, a first aid kit, yes, but, not a medical bag. She doubted that it belonged to the Knights either, especially since she had seen nothing but swords, javelins, bows and arrows, and various other medieval weaponry outside. Curiously she opened the bag, hoping to find something that would tell her who it belonged to. She dumped the cnts nts of the bag out onto the workbench and sifted through the scattered items but found nothing to identify the owner.

She did a quick search of the rest of the garage and went back outside. She took a sword from one of the fallen Knights apologizing to the dead soldier for stealing from him, and put it in the saddlebag of the Harley. She managed to get the Harley upright without too much trouble; she carefully looked it over seeing if her wipeout had caused any damage. As far as she could see, the only damage was a slightly bent rear foot peg. She crossed her fingers and kick started the bike. It turned over on the first try and she gave another silent prayer of thanks, not even sure who it was that she was thanking.

It seemed lately or rather the longer she was a Slayer the line between good and evil were blurring, becoming gray, Spike, and now the Knights serving as prime examples.

Mentally she made a list of possible places the gang c hav have gone to and came to the conclusion that out of all of them, two were the most likely. Faith pointed the Harley towards Sunnydale, spinning the rear wheel as she took, le, leaving a cloud of dust in her wake.
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"You sure you know what you're doing?" Anya asked Willow in a soft tone.

They were in Anya and Xander's apartment. Anya sat on one couch while Willow sat holding Tara's hand on the other. Every so often Willow would gently stroke Tara, offerinr whr what little comfort she could. Even in her current condition, Tara's bond with Willow was strong. It was to Willow that Tara turned to for comfort when she was frightened. It was Willow that Tara tried to communicate with, tried desperately to make sense from the confused recesses of her mind so she could warn them, help them, help Willow.

"I think so......... I don't know. It's... not exactly well explored territory, but... I gotta try," and Willow didn't know. But there weren't many options left open to them at this point. Buffy was her best friend and like Faith there was now an even deeper connection between them because of the enjoining spell. Granted it was different then what Faith and Buffy shared but it was still there. She could at times feel Buffy there on the edges of her mind. Willow owed Buffy a lot. It was doubtful that she would be alivday day if it weren't for Buffy, who had taken the first step towards being friends with the shy, self-conscious girl that Willow used to be. There was no way that Willow could leave her like she was, just because the spell was dangerous. No way in hell!

"Spells like this ... It could be dangerous for Buffy. And you."

"Time... oh, time is coming..." Tara tried to warn them, the part of her that was still 'Tara' hoped that they would understand.

"Shh... It's okay. I'm here." Gently, soothingly, Willow told Tara as she began to whimper. Anya moved over and joined them on the couch, the concern in her eyes. Willow realized just how much Anya had changed.

"You'll look after her while I'm ..."

"Sure. What do I do?"

"Mostly... just... be here for her." Anya nodded her understanding to Willow. "And... and there's some pills in my knapsack. Half of one every two hours keeps her... pretty mellow."

"Y-you think you'll be gone more than two hours?" She was nervous about this; she wished that Willow would wait until the others got back. Anya knew she still wasn't that good when it came to emergency situations. What happened if things went wrong? She knew though that Willow wouldn't wait, couldn't wait.

Willow shrugged her shoulders, she really didn't have a clue how long it would take, didn't know if the spell would work at all. "Wish me luck."

"Okay." Anya punched Willow on the arm, remembering that she had seen sne dne do it in a movie once. She felt awkward, and she punched Willow just a little too hard a forced smile on her face. "Good Luck."

"Thanks." Willow looked at Anya for just a minute, it dawned on her that she really had come to like the ex-vengeance demon. The sincerity was in her voice and face when she had thanked Anya. Willow turned her attention to Tara... to her always, "Okay. Be good now, sweetie. I-I'll be back soon as I can, okay? We're good?"

Tara stared at Willow intently while she was talking, Willow kissed her on the forehead and smiled at her and rose from the couch. Tara held out her hand towards her, whimpering, silently pleading for her to come back. Willow ignored that silent plea as best she could, and gathered up what she needed from the nearby table. Without a glance backwards at them, she opened the door to the master bedroom, entered and closed it softly nd hnd her.

"Good luck," Anya whispered softly at the closed door.
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On the small nightstand beside the bed, Willow placed a few candles and lit them. It was more for atmosphere then anything else, this was not an elaborate spell, no gigantic magic, it was actually quite simple. She placed a few more candles on the nightstand on the other side of the bed, lighting them too. She walked back around and sat on the edge of the bed, trying to keep her mind clear, she raised her eyes and looked at her best friend, who was sitting across from her in a chair, catatonic.

Willow locked her eyes with the unseeing, empty, dead eyes of Buffy, giving a silent prayer to the goddesses that this would work, and let her mind drift.
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Willow blinked rapidly in confusion and saw she was standing inside of a house that she had never been in before. She looked down at herself and saw that she was still wearing the same clothes she had on when she entered the er ber bedroom at Xander and Anya's. Mentally she smiled knowing that the spell had worked... so far.

She looked at her surroundings, there were flowers, a lot of them scattered around the room in vases. Knick-knacks on all of the tables, and the furniture looked like it was from the late seventies or early eighties, she couldn't be sure, furniture wasn't her thing. The room was cheerful, the curtains open making the room a bright happy place.

Taking a last look around, Willow walked slowly over to the doorway and left the room. The first thing she noticed was the large photo of a woman with a baby hanging on the wall over the fireplace mantle. There was something familiar about the woman and child in the photo. Other pictures were on top of the mantle, with some small sculptures. As Willow gazed around the room, she saw that there were quite a few more pictures scattered around the room, and something nagged at the back of her mind that she should know who the people in the pictures were. She turned away from fireplace, panning slowly around.

She saw more pictures, tasteful small pieces of artwork, sculptures, a record player and records. She could see out of the corner of her eye a couch was behind her.

From behind startling her, came a voice, a child's voice, "Hi Willow."

Willow turned around and saw a little blonde-haired girl. Her hair was in pigtails, and the child looked to be around six or seven years old. The little girl was sitting at a round child's table, toys were scattered on the table and on the floor around her. She was holding a doll, looking at Willow with bright, innocent, hazel eyes.

Willow smiled at the little girl, "Hello, Buffy."
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He kicked the door open with a loud crash, grinning, thinking he had done that better then any cop he had ever seen on the telly. He knew that Red wouldn't be happy if she found out but fuck it, she had only said no looking for paybacks, she never said he had to be quiet when he went to see if Glory was at her apartment. Nothing he could do if Glory came after him, except defend himself, right?

Spike stuck his head through the open door and jumped back quickly when he thought he saw something, someone move. When nothing happened he laughed softly at himself, thinking it was a good thing no one was around to see William the Bloody acting like a scaredy-cat. He listened attentively for any signs of life inside the apartment. He didn't hear any, he entered, flipped on the lights and lit a cigarette.

He walked around; rather he ambled through the apartment the fa�ade of William the Bloody wrapped around him like a cloak. Truth be told though, he would prefer not to take on Glory by himself. Now that he thought about it, kicking in the door had been rather bloody stupid, had Glory been here it would have taken away any element of surprise he would have had. He flicked his ashes carelessly on the floor, picking up items as he wandered and tossing them carelessly on the floor. He smiled every time he heard something break.

He turned to walk out of the apartment not finding anything that could help them when something caught him out of the corner of his eye. Spike turned around and saw the small, almost hidden door off to the side, no wonder he almost missed it the door was practically invisible. If it wasn't for his heightened vampire senses, he would have missed it. He walked over to it and ran his fingers around the almost imperceptible seam of the door, pushing gently against it noticing the dim light that came from inside. Reaching down he cautiously opened the door and stepped inside.

The room was just slightly larger then a walk-in closet. There were no personal items, no pictures, no books, no records, there was only a small bed, a lamp and some green medical scrubs lying upon the floor. Hell the room even depressed him; his crypt had more than this. Obviously, this was Ben's room and from appearances, Ben didn't rate too high on Glory's list.
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Anya pulled her eyes away from the Scooby-Doo video that she and Tara were watching when she heard the soft knock on the door. For a second her eyes flashed with fear but it quickly faded, it was unlikely that Glory would knock first. She rose and went over to the door, still a little afraid to find out who was on the other side.

"Who is it?" she queried softly.

"Faith."

Anya opened the door with a grateful sigh, only to be pushed aside roughly. Faith stood for just a split second, opening herself to the apartment, to Buffy. Then she turned not even questioning how she knew and made a beeline for the master bedroom.

"Stop!" Anya yelled, but Faith ignored her and kept walking across the room determined. Anya ran after her, and somehow managed to put herself between Faith and the door. "Wait! You can't go in there," and how the hell did Faith know Buffy was in the bedroom anyway?

Faith looked at her like she was nuts, and why the hell was she whispering. Faith growled at Anya, "Move out of my way."

For the first time since meeting Faith, Anya was afraid of her. In a glance, Anya took in Faith's disheveled appearance. She was covered in road dust, her hair was in total disarray, her face raw and red from windburn, and there was something wild in Faith's stare. It was as if she was holding onto her self-control by a very thin, frayed thread. Then Anya noticed how red and swollen Faith's eyes were, and the way her lip was trembling as well as her body. She saw sadness and fear in Faith's eyes, and she knew that the fear she was seeing in Faith's eyes wasn't for herself, but for Dawn and Buffy, for every one of them.

Faith reached out to shove Anya out of her way, her only thought to get to Buffy and that no one was going to stop her. She froze when Anya gently placed her hand on her arm.

"Faith..." Anya said gently, touching the raven-haired Slayer lightly on the arm. "Willow is in there with Buffy trying to help her. She..." She hesitated, staring into those eyes that seemed almost to burn her. "She did a spell... You can't go in there. It could be dangerous for both of them if you do." Anya relaxed when she saw the thunder go out of Faith's eyes and be replaced by concern. "Come... sit down. I'll tell you what happened." Gently she led Faith over to the couch, and practically had to shove her onto it.

Anya began telling Faith what had happened to them that day. Faith listened with half an ear, her eyes riveted to the master bedroom door. Every part of her called out to the Slayer on the other side of the door. She still had that empty feeling inside of her, it echoed loudly, endlessly. She reopened the connection between them, she had shut it down on her way here, had to in order to keep focused. Closing her eyes, she reached out to Buffy hoping to break through that silence. She almost pulled back when she felt something, someone... someone that was not Buffy in there and then she recognized who it was. It was Red and Faith got a flash of irritation from her, a gentle warning to back off, to get out. Which she did quickly, this had to have something to do with the current spell and Faith suspected the enjoining spell as well.

She opened her eyes and looked at Anya who it seemed was rambling. "Red's in B's mind, how? Tell me what this spell is that Red did..." Faith asked hoarsely.
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