She’s gonna get us killed.

That’s really all I can think as I dodge yet another swing of the long arm of whatever the hell this demon is. She shot it in its side. Its side! What the hell is that going to do, other than piss it off?

The thing lumbers over to where she’s crouched behind a tombstone. I take a moment to regroup, searching the graveyard for Giles and Wesley. Before I can even see a patch of tweed behind a tree, the thing shrieks bloody murder. I instinctively duck down, covering my ears with my hands.

It’s got Faith’s sword sticking out of its belly now, and God, is it ever pissed.

She’s gonna get us killed.

Or maybe it will.

I couldn’t get a good look at it until now, what with all the ducking and dodging. It’s at least ten feet tall, and I can now see a mouthful of several rows of teeth. It’s got long arms and short legs, with a body like an oversized gorilla.

It swings its arms like clubs, just as Faith stands from her spot behind the tombstone. Six inch long claws catch her in the shoulder and she goes flying across my line of vision. I can only watch as she crashes hard into a tree.

Before I can even react, it’s turned on me. I raise my own sword up, actively looking for an out.

I told Faith that fighting this thing was a bad idea, but no. She just had to ignore me. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Now that the Council is letting her out on supervised patrols, she’s all action and no talk. Not like that’s any different than before.

it's hard to listen to a hard hard heart beating close to mine 

I risk a glance in her general direction to see her stumbling my way, blood pouring from her face and her shoulder. It’s all the distraction the demon needs, wrapping those claws around my wrist and yanking, hard. I hear the snap before I feel it, knowing immediately that my wrist is broken. Searing pain rips up my arm as the demon’s claws tear up my forearm. It grips me again, pulling at my ruined wrist.

Panic seizes my chest: It’s gonna rip my whole arm off.

I hear yelling, screaming, and at first I think it’s me. I see a flash of silver and suddenly the demon lets go. Its head rolls off its shoulders, tumbling to the ground right along with me.

Faith stands over me, sword in hand, looking every bit like a conquering hero.

Her eyes are dark and flashing with violence. Her chest is heaving, blood dripping from her wounds. All over her. And then she’s falling down next to me.

I feel hands on me, but they aren’t hers. I wonder briefly why I’d even think they would be. Wesley hurries into view, barely sparing me a glance as he kneels at Faith’s side.

Giles’ hands are soft, always softer than I think they’ll be, as he checks my injured arm.

“Good Lord, Faith, are you alright?”

Duh, Wes, of course she’s not alright. Neither of us is. But we might be.

Faith smirks up at him, blood from her split lip smearing over her teeth. “Kicked his ass,” she replies, barely able to hold her head up, before promptly passing out.

There’s a lot of fuss in getting us out of the cemetery, into Wesley’s van. Faith called it his child-molester van the other day to see if she could make me laugh. I don’t think I’m ready to laugh at her jokes again. 

I look over at her as Wes speeds to the library. Her eyes are closed and her breathing is even, but she’s not peaceful.

I wonder if she has nightmares like I do. Of a stake, and blood, and a man in an alley. I shake my head and turn away.

I don’t look at her for the rest of the ride to the library.

pounding up against the stone and steel walls that I won’t climb 

Giles cleans my arm and sets my wrist, clucking his tongue in concern. I just want to go home and go to sleep. This’ll be healed in a few days.

“Don’t fucking touch me!”

Faith wakes up swinging, catching Wes in the neck as he attempts to suture the claw marks in her shoulder. Her eyes are wild, searching the room, searching all of us. Her eyes land on mine, and I can’t hold her gaze.

I haven’t been able to for more than a second since that night. There’s too much there that I’m not ready to see. But I told her I’d try. I told her I’d help.

“Faith, it’s alright.” I hate the way Wesley talks to her. Like he’s talking her away from the ledge of a building. I guess if that analogy holds, though, she’d push him right over. I know I would after what he’s done.

She tries to shrug away from him, but I guess it hurts her shoulder. She lets him continue to treat her wounds. The library is quiet, but every word that’s being left unsaid is making my stomach churn.

Giles offers to drive us home, but we both know it’s not an offer we have any say in. We leave Wesley behind and pile into Giles’ car.

“I’ll try not to bleed on the upholstery,” Faith mumbles from the front seat. Giles just ignores her. I close my eyes, listening to the swish swish of the windshield wipers and the pattering of rain on the roof of the car.

sometimes a hurt is so deep deep deep 

Faith has to get out of the car to let me out when we get to my house. I watch her wiggle out of the seatbelt, trying not to jar her shoulder. Giles has to help her pull the seat forward since the door won’t stay open on its own.

She looks embarrassed to need the help. She looks just like a little kid, with the rain wetting her hair and pelting her cheeks.

I take her hand, not bothering to thank Giles for the ride, and pull her up the front walk.

“Don’t argue.” I command, before she can even say a word. “You’re staying here tonight.”

you think that you're gonna drown

I can’t explain why I want her with me tonight, but I just couldn’t let her go back to that rat trap motel room after a night like we’ve had. If I really thought about it, I’d know that it goes deeper than that. Faith doesn’t argue with me, so I don’t think about it.

She follows me up the stairs to my room. I hand her some sweatpants and a t-shirt, and move across the room to change into my own pajamas.

The distance does nothing for us. I can feel her watching me.

My stomach churns again, but this time it’s not an unpleasant feeling. I look over my shoulder at her before pulling my tank top on. Her eyes are black in the dim light of my bedside lamp, and she’s breathing heavily again. Shame burns my cheeks as desire colors hers, and I turn away.  

We crawl into bed on opposite sides, consciously staying as far apart as possible. We lay side by side, not touching, not speaking, just listening to the other breathe. In and out. In and out.

sometimes all I can do is weep weep weep

I wake up slowly, warm and heavy. I open my eyes on a mess of dark hair and the most peaceful face I’ve ever seen. Faith is sprawled on top of me, our arms and legs in an impossible tangle. It’s not quite light out yet, and the rain has subsided to a soft drizzle tickling my window.

Her dark eyes open on mine long minutes later. They’re lazy with sleep, smiling up at me, until she figures out where she is. I watch the panic spread, her eyes turning from a deep dark brown to a golden green in less than a second. Her arms twitch and her legs move, but I hold her steady.

with all this rain falling down

“Don’t, Faith. Please.”

I hate the way my voice sounds. Vulnerable and weak. But that’s how she makes me feel. Especially now, settling back against me, holding in a sob that I can feel shudder down the length of her back. I hold her and let her cry until we fall back to sleep.