Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, and don't own the lines from Graduation Day, pt.2.
~~~
“Okay,” Willow said nervously. “Have we got everything?”
“I have the book, the candles, the herbs, and, of course, the...well, that is, her...”
“Yeah,” Willow said, cutting off Giles. “Yeah, uh, right. Okay. Here we go.”
The teenage witch was seated cross-legged on top of a table they had placed at the foot of Angel’s bed. Giles was placing candles at every corner of the room, and lighting them. When he was done, he handed the book, open to the relevant page, to Willow, who anxiously read over the incantation. Then he produced a vial from inside his jacket, and poured the red liquid into a large serving bowl on the table. The liquid did not even cover the bottom, but Giles felt that even this small amount was far too much.
Willow began to recite the words in Latin, and Giles sprinkled the herbs into the bowl. He watched as the brown and green substances seemed to melt into the red liquid. Thirty seconds later, Willow had finished the first recitation, and the herbs appeared to have disappeared completely. Willow began the incantation again, and both of their gazes were trained on the contents of the large bowl. They were disappointed but not unduly surprised that, at the end of the second recitation, there were no evident changes. The book said that the required number of recitations varied based on the subject. Giles had hoped that only two would be necessary, but apparently that was not the case. On the third recitation, Willow’s voice took on a deeper tone, and Giles looked at her in alarm. Her eyes were fixed on the bowl, and her face was completely expressionless. Yet there seemed to be something almost sinister lurking behind her eyes, and in the tone of her voice, which was no longer recognizable. Abruptly, she stopped, and her muscles relaxed. Giles almost reacted too slowly to catch her as she collapsed. Almost, but not quite.
As he gently eased her down from the table so that she could rest in a chair, she raised one trembling hand and pointed at the bowl. “Look,” she whispered proudly, “I did it. It worked.”
“Yes,” he said, “it worked. You did a very fine job, Willow.”
Once she was settled, he went back to the table and picked up the bowl in his hands. As he approached the unconscious vampire with the full bowl, a knot formed in his gut. He hated doing this. Every part of him rebelled against this. It seemed so wrong, and yet the rational part of his brain told him that it was the right thing to do. Oz did very well to find this spell, Giles thought as he looked down at the shivering and sweating form of Angel. The vampire seemed to be wrapped in some sort of nightmare, which only intensified with the proximity of the bowl. In addition to allowing us to transform a small amount of the...of Angel’s cure into the necessary amount, this spell could prove very useful in the future.
“Angel,” Giles said loudly, hoping to wake the vampire.
“Buffy,” the vampire whispered, clearly still delusional. Giles looked back at Willow, who just shrugged.
“Angel,” he repeated, “this is Giles. I can cure you.”
“What way?” the vampire whispered.
Giles took this response as a good sign, and he placed the bowl on the bed. He bodily maneuvered the vampire into a half-sitting position. Then he lifted the bowl once more, and held it before Angel’s face. “Angel, you must drink,” he said.
The vampire tried to move, but he was far too weak. “No,” he muttered. “Buffy. No.”
Giles frowned, and wondered if Angel was at all conscious. But he quickly came to the conclusion that it made no difference. “Yes,” he said firmly. “Drink.” He forced Angel’s mouth open with one hand, and with the other he began to tip the bowl. Giles wished for the umpteenth time that they could have used Faith, but the Mayor’s continued presence at her bedside had disabused them of that notion. The ex-Watched swallowed his discomfort and poured the contents of the bowl into Angel’s mouth. He averted his gaze as Buffy’s blood flowed down the vampire’s throat.
~~~
Xander glanced at Cordelia, who sat across from him, studying her nails. He glanced down at his hands which beat sporadic rhythms against his knees. He winced as Oz went over a bump, and his head hit the wall behind him. He and Cordelia were seated amidst the guitars, amps, and piles of sheet music in the back of Oz’s van. Tense did not even begin to describe the mood in the van. He and Cordelia weren’t exactly on friendly terms; add to that the Ascension and Buffy’s untimely coma, and you had a recipe for very awkward silences.
“We’re here,” Oz said as he parked. They were the first words he had spoken since they had gotten in the van.
Xander felt like cheering as he jumped onto the sidewalk. He wasn’t particularly happy about what they had ahead of them, but any action was better than sitting in a van with his ex and his best friend’s taciturn boyfriend. But somehow he managed to remain silent. Perhaps all the bad stuff that had been weighing on his mind had something to do with his lack of cheering.
“Locked,” Oz said as he tried the door.
“Is there like a spare key or something?” Cordelia said as she wrapped her arms around herself.
“Buffy doesn’t keep a spare key outside,” Xander said, walking away from the door. “Or if she does, she never told anyone about it. She’s the Slayer. She doesn’t really want people or demons to be able to get into her house.”
With that said, Xander gave the window beside the door a well-placed shove, and it swung inward. He sent a half smile over his shoulder as he climbed through and went to unlock the door. When he opened it, he was greeted by Cordelia’s impatient glare, and Oz’s lack of expression.
“She doesn’t want people to get into her house?” Cordelia said.
Xander just shrugged. “I am the obvious exception. And anyone else who can figure out how to get through that window.”
“Of course,” Oz said blandly as he stepped into the house.
Xander moved quickly up the stairs and into Buffy’s room. He tried to shake off the feeling that he was invading his friend’s privacy, but he couldn’t help feeling unsettled. He was standing in the midst of everything that screamed Buffy, but she was lying unconscious in a hospital bed. Xander sighed, and knelt down beside Buffy’s weapons chest. Now was not the time to fall apart.
~~~
Oz grunted softly as he hauled the van door shut on the assorted weapons. He was approaching his door, keys in hand, when Xander came running out of the house, holding Buffy’s Class Protector award in one hand.
“Oz, wait,” Xander said.
Oz waited, expressionless.
“This may sound completely crazy, but I think I know a way to improve upon this plan. We’re still going to need all the weapons we can get.”
Oz didn’t bother to ask what the new plan was going to be. Xander would tell them all later. “What next?” was all the werewolf said.
“Explosives.”
“Have I mentioned yet that I don’t think it’s possible to come up with a crazier plan?” Cordelia protested.
“We attack the Mayor with hummus,” Oz said, earning himself strange looks from both Xander and Cordelia.
“I stand corrected,” she admitted.
“Just trying to keep things in perspective.”
“Thank you,” she said slowly and stiffly. “This improvement better actually be an improvement,” she muttered to herself as she climbed into the passenger seat.
~~~
“Whose going to look after him?” Buffy said as she stepped into the light.
“It’s a she,” I said as I joined her in the brightly lit apartment. “Aren’t these things supposed to take care of themselves?” I continued as my gaze sought out the cat that wasn’t a cat.
“A higher power guiding us?” she said, turning to me.
“I’m pretty sure that’s not what I meant,” I replied as I moved to stand in front of the broken window. Not sure what I meant, I said to myself, but that wasn’t it.
“Is there something I’m supposed to be doing?” she said, sounding so lost.
“Eventually. Miles to go. Little Miss Muffet counting down from 7-3-0. You don’t have as much time as you think. Try not to be late.”
“Great,” Buffy said, “riddles.”
“Sorry,” I laughed. “It’s my head. Lotta new stuff.” Got that right, I said to myself. I don’t get half what I’m saying. How can I expect B to? I could feel her gaze even though I couldn’t see her.
“They’re never going to fix that, are they?” she said, referring to the window I was staring at. Finally, I turned around to face her.
“What about you?”
She just shrugged. “It’ll fade.” She stared at something in her hand, petrified.
I knew she was seeing something I wasn’t, but I figured it was just the way this dream thing worked. Meanwhile, I couldn’t keep my eyes off her horribly bruised face. She didn’t even seem to be aware of the damage. I wondered what it would do to her if she knew. “You know what’s funny?” I said, breaking the silence between us. “Human weakness. It never goes away. Not his, not yours, and not mine.”
She looked at me for a few seconds, then her lips curved in a small smile. “Is this your mind or mine?”
“Well, I thought it was mine, but now...beats me,” I said with a laugh.
“What’s with the boxes?” she said, looking around the apartment which was littered with boxes. “Looks like you’re moving out.”
“Looks like,” I said, my brow furrowing slightly. “How am I going to fit all this stuff?”
“Just take what you need,” she said as she slowly walked towards me. She gently reached out to touch my cheek. “Are you ready?”
I stared into her eyes, which belied none of the wildness I could see when she slid a knife into my gut, as my surroundings dissolved to white.
~~~
Faith woke with a start. She sat straight up in her bed, tossing the sheets forcefully from her body as she slid off the edge to stand firmly on her own two feet. She walked out of her room and into the adjoining room without pausing to take in her white, sterilized surroundings. Faith stared at the occupant of the bed, feeling a mixture of sadness, regret, and sharp anger coursing through her. As she looked down on the girl who had once been the closest thing she’d had to a friend, a sister, even, she wondered what was next. Even as she considered this, she knew the answer. She only had person left, and she wasn’t going to lose him.
Five minutes later, she strode into the waiting room, fully dressed. Her heart rose from the depths as she saw the relieved smile on his face as he rose to his feet. Five seconds later, the man she wished had been her father stood in front of her. He was the only person she could turn to now.
“I’m ready,” she said before he got the chance to say anything. I’m ready, B.
~~~
TBC
A/N: So there’s chapter 3. Hope you like it, and I hope it was worth the wait. I’ve never written for Faith before, so I would really appreciate it if you would review and tell me what you think! Oh, and I stole lines from Graduation Day, Part 2. The dream sequence was hard to write (it was from Faith’s POV, which, like I said before, is not something I’m familiar with) so please review! Oh, and thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far. You guys rock.
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