Faith stretched her neck back and let out a disgruntled groan as she slowly returned to consciousness. Her eyes squinted against the bright light that hung overhead as her hand moved up to her numb face. Pressing her fingers against the skin, she felt nothing more than a slight fuzzy sensation. She squeezed her fingers shut, trying to stop the irritating tingling that buzzed around on them. "What the hell," she muttered.

"I'm sorry about that."

She looked to her side, forcing her eyes open fully to find Giles sat by her bed. A vague memory popped into her head: the image of Giles taking her out with a tranquillizer dart. "Don't sweat it," she said groggily, one word slurring into the next. "That's the best sleep I've had in a long while." She noticed the array of hospital apparatus placed at Giles' side. "Wait, am I in-" She stopped her question mid-sentence as the blanks finished filling themselves in. "Buffy," she said quietly, remembering the earlier fight in vivid detail.

"She's OK. Willow called just a few minutes ago. Buffy's on her way here now." Faith's eyes widened and she quickly sat up. Giles placed a firm hand on her shoulder, trying to gently ease her back down. "Don't worry," he added. "It seems that something, or – or perhaps someone, did... something to the two of you. I'm really not sure on the specifics yet, but it would appear that you've both made a full recovery."

Maintaining her sat up position against Giles' attempts to urge her back down, she tried to process what had happened, to play back the events of the last day, but she ultimately found her focus unwilling to shift from the fight with Buffy. Or, more accurately, the beating she'd taken from Buffy.

"How are you?" Giles asked, his hand leaving her shoulder and retreating to his glasses.

"Mostly? Just numb."

"I meant..." his voice trailed off and, glasses in hand, he gestured loosely at her.

They sat in silence. She could feel Giles' loose stare as she kept her own eyes cast down at the hospital bed sheet that covered her legs. Her nerves began to flutter at the thought of Buffy's imminent arrival. Would she be pissed? Faith really didn't want to find out. Her eyes roamed across the small room to the entrance, but before she could debate making a run for it Xander filled the door frame.

"One coffee, made with the cheapest beans in all the land and stored in a vending machine for no longer than, oh, let's just call it three decades," he said cheerfully, offering out a filled plastic cup. Giles replaced his glasses and wearily gave it a thorough looking over before reluctantly reaching out to accept it. Next Xander turned to Faith, giving her a bullish smile and holding out a red foil packet. "And for you milady, some tasty Slayer regeneration snackage. Sorry, they didn't have a whole lot of choice. I would have gotten you a Twinkie, but I didn't know if I could make the walk back without scoffing it myself, and as for if you were still asleep... oh boy."

Glad for any distraction, not to mention more than a little hungry, Faith grabbed the potato chips from him and wasted no time in pulling the bag open and reaching in. "Thanks."

Xander continued around to the other side of the bed, plopping down in to the empty chair. "So, how about that wolf, hey?"

Faith looked over at him, her eyebrow raised in confusion. "What?" she asked through a half-chewed mouthful of food.

"Well we needed something to to tell the doctors, and a family hunting trip gone horribly wrong sounded reasonable enough. After a wolf attacked you, Giles here tried to tranq the awful creature, but his shot was a tad wide of the mark. You should have seen the looks the nurses gave him. I know it's something I'll personally never forget."

Faith glanced to the other side where Giles sat stony-faced, his head slowly shaking back and forth. Whether from embarrassment or just pure disapproval, Faith didn't know. She returned her attention to Xander, a thin smile on her face as she reached down into her bag for another handful. "And they actually bought that?"

"I didn't see any cops lurking outside just then so I think I did a pretty good job. Right, G-man?"

"Don't ever call me that," Giles complained. "In fact, don't even speak to me again," he added dryly. "I'm lucky I haven't been hauled off by protective services." He stole a glance at his watch. "Though I'm sure there's still plenty of time for that."

Faith tipped the broken up remains of the bag onto her palm before shovelling them into her waiting mouth.

"Already?" Xander asked, looking back and forth between the empty bag and Faith with an open-mouthed look that bordered on amazed.

"Yeah, I swear they keep making these things smaller."

"Or maybe you're just getting bigger," he said before a look of worry quickly shot on to his face. "In the tall sense of course, not the... wide sense. I mean you still look, um..." Xander's hands clasped together as he fidgeted in his seat. "So how've you been?" he finished, upbeat despite the nervous smile on his face.

"Five by five," Faith replied simply.

"That's... great. It's great that you're great. Right, Giles?"

"Err, yes. Of course. It's good to see you looking..." Giles flustered as he tried to deal with the deflection, and Faith thought she did well to keep her eyes from rolling right out the side of her head. It seemed even Xander couldn't keep the conversation going for long, and as Faith wondered if it could get much worse she found herself wishing someone would at least have the decency to drug her again.

"Buffy," Xander said from out of nowhere, and Faith's eyes widened without her permission. Of course, Faith realized – that's how things could get worse. She slowly, reluctantly, followed Xander's look, and sure enough she found herself staring up at Buffy, who stood completely drenched from head to toe, clumps of her damp, matted hair glued flat against her face. Oh she is so going to be pissed, Faith told herself.

----------

Buffy hovered nervously in the doorway, her eyes never crawling far away from the near end of Faith's hospital bed. Nobody spoke a word for what seemed like forever, and Buffy had none of her own to offer.

"Buff, I'm glad you're OK," Xander said, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

"Thanks," Buffy replied quietly.

The silence hadn't gone far, and it lingered for a further few moments. Once again it was left to Xander to speak up, and his offering was as welcome as it was questionable. "You're starting to leave a puddle," he pointed out.

Buffy looked down to where a small pool of water had indeed started to form at her feet. "Yeah," she said absently, taking all the time she could to seek out intricate details that simply weren't there. For all the determination she'd had to get to the hospital she found herself dreading the final few metres. Knowing she couldn't just stand there forever, she looked to Xander and then Giles, careful to avoid Faith's gaze along the way. "Can you guys give us a minute?" She regretted the words the moment she heard them out loud, deciding too late that four seemed like a far safer number.

"Certainly," Giles said, immediately getting to his feet before she could take back the request. He held up a plastic cup in his hand, his outstretched arm keeping it about as far away from his body as he could reasonably manage. "Maybe the cafeteria will have something which more closely resembles coffee. Or perhaps, heaven forbid, maybe even a nice pot of tea."

Xander tutted as he followed Giles from the room. "British people, hey? Doesn't matter what you get them, they're just never happy."

"I'd be happy with tea," he replied indignantly.

Buffy unwillingly stepped to the side to let the two of them past and then stayed in place, nervously hugging the edge of the room. This shouldn't be so difficult, she thought to herself. It's not like they hadn't come to blows in the past, physical and otherwise. Then again, she had certainly risen the bar to an uncomfortable new height. Never before had she actually wanted to hurt Faith, and she liked to believe Faith felt the same way. Even though there had been other forces at work, she couldn't help but place some of the blame on herself. Nobody else had thrown the punches, and nobody else had swung the knife. She'd even been the one to almost-

"You gonna come in?" Faith asked, interrupting Buffy's internal self-loathing.

Buffy nodded slowly, a reflex action more than a confirmation of intent. She couldn't read Faith's voice. Did she sound angry? Afraid? There were plenty of reasons for both, though Buffy thought she only sounded a little tense if anything; or perhaps that was nothing more than wishful thinking on her part. Nonetheless, it helped Buffy pluck up enough courage to trudge her way over to the nearest seat. She remained careful to keep her eyes a safe distance from the other girl's face as her wet shoes squeaked quietly against the laminate floor with each step. She lowered into the vacated seat, her gaze resting on the bulge Faith's crossed legs made beneath the sheets, and she cupped her hands together at the edge of the bed.

Her tongue rolled around the inside of her mouth as she sought out the right words. Was there even such a thing as the right words for a situation like this? She figured that people who fought almost to the death probably didn't spend a whole lot of time locked in conversation – at least not on a regular basis.

"I..." As she started to speak she made the near-fatal mistake of allowing her eyes to flick too far up. The cuts and bruises that littered Faith's face decimated the meagre amount of optimism she had managed to collect together. Her forehead tightened, bringing her eyebrows together. Her head dropped between slumped shoulders, her gaze resting on the relative safety of her own hands. It didn't matter where she looked though; she'd already gotten a good look at the damage. The damage she'd caused with those very hands. Somehow it looked even worse than she remembered it, and the unwanted visual firmly planted itself in her mind; front, centre, and unwilling to budge an inch.

"Faith, I – I am so, so sorry," she said, her voice a faint whisper. She squeezed her eyes shut, setting free the pair of tears that hung loosely around her eyelashes. "I swear, I never wanted to hurt you. I... please, you have to believe me."

Her right foot fidgeted against the floor, coming to a rest only when she felt the warmth of Faith's palm as it curled over the top of her hands. "I believe you," Faith said.

It wasn't that Buffy didn't hear the words, only that her brain seemed incapable of fully processing them. "I know I can't even begin to make it up to you. I just..." She drew in a deep breath, but no amount of air could give her the strength she needed. "This is the last thing..." Her forehead scrunched up. Her words fell away, a single soft sob escaping from her throat to take their place.

The tips of Faith's fingers trailed smoothly across the top of Buffy's hand as they moved back, and Buffy could only watch with horror as they receded. Then, instead of leaving completely, they tried to press their way between Buffy's, and Buffy relaxed her muscles, letting the fingers slip through until their hands interlocked. "I believe you," Faith said, more firmly than the first time.

Buffy felt Faith's gentle squeeze and another sob escaped her throat. She bit nervously at her bottom lip as her head bobbed with the smallest of movements. Pulling together just enough courage to look at Faith, Buffy's bleary eyes found themselves set on her split, bruised cheek.

"I'm so sorry," Buffy repeated quietly, not knowing what else she could possibly say.

"B, really, I'm fine. It's just a couple of scratches. I don't even know why they shoved me in here." She held her far arm up, lifting out the material of the gaudy looking hospital gown as she looked down at it in discontent. "I'm telling you, if I'd still been conscious they sure as hell wouldn't have gotten me into this thing."

Buffy allowed herself the thinnest of smiles. Her free hand moved up to wipe away the next round of tears. She knew that physically Faith would be fine, any sign of the attack gone in a matter of days, though a couple of scratches was somewhat of an understatement. Her concerns ran deeper though: Faith being OK didn't mean that they would be OK. It didn't mean that they could pick up where they left off, and it didn't mean that Faith wouldn't have her bags packed before the night was through. Before she knew it she found herself pre-emptively trying to think of something to say to change her mind.

"Buffy. You're not the only who was a little out of it. In case you didn't notice, I wasn't exactly in my greatest state of mind either."

"But I tried to kill you," Buffy uttered weakly, wincing when she heard the words out load.

"No, you didn't," Faith stressed. "Or if you did, Giles really needs to work on your dagger skills," she quipped, but Buffy couldn't see the funny side. "Whatever did this to us," Faith carried on, "you beat it. We both know Giles didn't stop you. You stopped you. We're both still ticking, and when I get out of here, me and you are gonna track down the son of a bitch that did this and kick its scaly, little ass all over Sunny D, am I right?"

Buffy's eyes pressed shut as her smile grew. She nodded vehemently before taking some much needed time to try and compose herself. "How do you know there's scales?" she asked suddenly, the question popping into her mind from nowhere.

"'Cos, B, nine times out of ten, there's scales."

"And the other time?"

"Slime," Faith answered easily, drawing a small, earnest laugh from Buffy.

With the stream of tears cut off at the source and her vision beginning to clear, Buffy found herself looking into a face that displayed no anger or hate, only the confident, welcoming smile she'd become accustomed to. "Thank you, Faith," she said earnestly.

"Of course that does leave one small problem," Faith said, her voice plain. Buffy's brow furrowed, but before she had time to contemplate anything Faith collapsed back on to the bed with a dramatic sigh. "Now someone's gonna have to look after me in my weakened state."

Buffy raised an eyebrow, looking at her questioningly. "Really?" she asked, hints of amusement breaking through.

Faith nodded, a wide grin on her face. "Totally. And I heard they have Twinkies here. Just saying."

Buffy felt herself smile more than she had all day as she shook her head. She sniffled as the back of her hand wiped away the remaining dampness around her eyes. "Yeah? I guess I better see what I can do then."

"Also, if you come across a soda machine on the way..."

"Hey, you better not get too used to this," Buffy warned her, pointing an accusatory finger her way. "One day. Two tops."

Faith lazily stretched her arms up before crossing them behind her head. "Guess I better make the most of it then."

Content to simply bask in the fact that things hadn't turned out as awful as she'd expected, Buffy watched Faith in silence for several moments before beginning her hunt for a vending machine or two. She managed to get only as far as the doorway before her mother rounded the corner without slowing down. Buffy's quick reflexes were the only thing that kept them both off the floor, her hand shooting out to stop her mother before they crashed straight into each other.

"Oh Buffy, I'm so glad you're OK," she said, pulling Buffy into a tight hug. "I called Mr. Giles as soon as you ran out. He explained everything in the hallway. I'm just glad he found you so soon." She paused, relinquishing her hold as she peered over Buffy's shoulder into the room. "How's Faith?"

"She's good," Buffy said, smiling in the knowledge that she wasn't just lying for her mother's sake.

"Do you mind if I?" Joyce asked, pointing past her.

"Yeah, sure, go ahead. I'll be back in a few minutes." She looked down at herself and let out a small groan. "Or possibly a little longer; I think I need to go and stand under a dryer."

----------

Upon her return to Faith's bedside, Buffy found her mother and Faith in conversation, though it stopped when her entrance drew their attention.

"Here you go," Buffy stated cheerfully. "One times Twinkie, and because I've seen what you can do to an entire bucket of chicken wings, one times Hershey bar to boot." She tossed the pair of snacks toward Faith, who didn't have to apply much effort to catch one in each hand. She felt much more relaxed, the ease with which Faith's forgiveness had come doing more than just settling her nerves.

"Hershey bar? So Xander was holding out on me," Faith said, her eyes flicking eagerly between the two bars. "I could kiss you, B."

Buffy's eyes caught her mother's, and she averted them quickly, the present company making her blush more than she otherwise might have. "Sorry, they were out of coke," she carried on quickly, sidestepping Faith's comment. She held out the chilled can to Faith, who took a moment to shift the snacks into one hand before accepting the offering.

"Don't worry, Pepsi is way the superior drink."

"Always knew you were a freak," Buffy said, her teasing earning her a playful knock on her arm.

"I'm trying very hard not to comment on the health ramifications of that meal," Joyce said, eyeing the contents of Faith's hands with a great deal of suspicion.

"And doing a fabulous job," Buffy replied. "Besides, have you actually seen the food here? Their jello does not come in a natural colour of green. Trust me, this is a step up."

"Plus slaying takes it right from the hips, so it's all good," Faith added, tearing open the Hershey bar without delay.

"Against my better judgement, I'll have to take your words on that," Joyce said, looking between Buffy and Faith with some scepticism. She looked down at her watch and frowned. "Anyway, if you're both OK then I should really get going. I'll never survive an afternoon at the gallery if I don't get at least some sleep. But I spoke to the doctors on my way in and they said you should be fine to leave tomorrow morning, Faith. Mr. Giles has already sorted out the bills so all you'll need to do is sign a release form before you go. I'll come and pick you up around ten?"

"It's cool, I can walk."

"Don't be silly. It's no trouble, and I don't need to be at the gallery until lunch so I've got plenty of time."

"OK, sure."

"Buffy, I can drop you off at the campus on my way back if you like?"

"Actually I was going to stay. Keep Faith company, at least for a little while." Buffy looked at Faith to make sure that wouldn't be a problem, perhaps a small amount of leftover anxiety still holding on, but the smile she found quickly squashed it down.

Her mother nodded. "OK sweety." She bent down and gave Buffy a quick peck on the forehead. "Just please be careful, OK? That goes for the both of you."

"Well, impending sugar high aside, I think we should be safe," Buffy quipped. Honestly though, she was glad – surprised, but glad – that her mother hadn't had a total freak out. Of course there would still be time for that later, but she could worry about later, well, later.

"I mean just take it easy for a while," Joyce clarified.

"We will. Thanks."

Once the two of them were left alone, Buffy returned her full attention to Faith, watching with mild amusement as she devoured the defenceless Hershey bar without mercy. She waited until Faith lay back, seemingly saving the Twinkie for later, before she spoke up. "So... are you sure you're feeling alright?"

"B-" Faith began, the tone in that single letter making it obvious to Buffy a complaint was forthcoming.

"I'm only checking," Buffy said apologetically, holding up her palms to signal she'd back off.

"And I appreciate it, really, but what happened happened. It was nobody's fault and we're both fine – so can we just forget about it?"

Buffy smiled and gave a curt nod. "Forget about it, check." She adjusted herself in her seat, failing to find a comfy position within its hard, plastic clutches. "In that case, budge up; this chair keeps sticking in my back. I think it might be possessed or something."

Faith gave the chair a doubtful glance before she spoke up, her voice suddenly strained. "Well, B, I would, but I think I'm too injured to move. You can probably just about squeeze up here though." She patted the thin strip of free space next to her.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "You just said you were fine."

"Maybe I changed my mind."

"Uh-huh," Buffy replied, completely unconvinced. "Move it." She stood up and poked Faith in her ribs, then followed up with another, doing her part to help the girl come to a quick decision.

"Jeez, B, have some respect for the wounded," Faith joked through a large grin, but she shifted herself to one side, leaving Buffy with enough room to climb up next to her.

Buffy quickly pulled one of the two pillows out from under Faith's head, placing it behind her back before leaning into the wall behind the bed and stretching out her legs. "Mmm, much better."

"Oh sure, take my pillow, get the sheets wet. Wanna go ahead and steal the covers while you're at it?"

"I would never do that," Buffy replied, looking down at Faith with an almost-straight face that portrayed only the smallest amount of guilt. Sure, perhaps she had some vague recollection of Willow complaining about waking up cold on the odd occasion, but could she really be expected to take the blame for her needy subconscious? "And I'll have you know I just spent fifteen minutes performing some pretty impressive acrobatic feats under a hand dryer." Buffy stuck her arm out over Faith's head. "See? Feel me. One hundred percent moisture free."

Faith didn't move, only laying there as her eyes moved to Buffy's. Buffy's arm remained outstretched for a few more moments before pulling back. "Emm, so, are you tired?" she asked, Faith's continued look making her feel a touch awkward.

"Not really."

"Yeah, me neither."

"Wanna watch TV?"

"You think they have cable?" Buffy asked optimistically.

The answer to that question was a resounding no, and for the best part of fifteen minutes she found herself paying little attention to what appeared to be an old gangster movie. Even if there had been sound, or at the very least subtitles, Buffy's interest would still have amounted to very little. She'd told Faith she'd forget about what happened, and it's not like she wasn't trying. However, as she tried to shut out the things she'd done she found her focus switching to Faith's actions instead.

While Buffy's worries over her mother had driven her to some horribly misplaced anger, she had trouble putting her finger on Faith's behaviour. She'd seemed scared of something. Maybe even of her. But something bothered her more than that. Something she couldn't quite get her head around. "Hey, Faith?" she asked, sitting upright.

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Earlier..." Last chance, she warned herself, but sometimes her mouth simply refused to listen to reason. "Why did you stop?"

Faith instantly abandoned the TV she'd seemed so engrossed in, tilting her head back to look up at her. "Stop what?"

"You stopped fighting," Buffy said slowly. "You didn't move. I could have killed you... and you just lay there."

Faith's deep breath didn't go unnoticed, and her eyes flicked back to the TV. She stayed completely still, completely silent, and Buffy couldn't help but picture the wet grass and soil that had lay beneath her body only a few hours earlier.

Buffy licked her lips. They weren't even dry, but it allowed her to put off asking the question for just that little bit longer. "Did you – do you want to die?"

"No," Faith replied instantly, offering nothing more than that.

"Then why didn't you do something?" Buffy pressed. "Anything?"

Faith rolled onto her side, her back facing Buffy, one arm keeping the covers tight to her chest.

Buffy laid a supportive hand on her shoulder. "Faith? What's going on?"

"I need you to go," Faith said quietly.

"What? But-"

"Please. I just – I can't do this. Not yet."

Buffy considered outright refusing the request, but she'd already caused Faith enough harm for one night, and she realized that pushing further would only make things worse. "OK," she reluctantly agreed, giving Faith's shoulder a reassuring squeeze before withdrawing her hand. "Sorry." Faith remained in the same spot as Buffy slid from the bed to her feet, where she continued to watch the back of Faith's motionless head for several more seconds. She leaned over, gently pursing her lips against the side of Faith's head. "Good night, Faith," she offered softly before turning and dejectedly making for the exit.

She stalled in the doorway when Faith's quiet response came from behind. "Night, B." She took one last look back, the worry showing itself on her forehead. Taking her new-found concerns with her, she stepped out into the quiet, deserted hallway, a sad smile on her face.