Disclaimer: Same as in first part

Running through the maze of tunnels, guided by pure instinct, she rounded a corner and almost collided with a scaly green demon. Using the demon's shock to her advantage, she slammed a foot into its gut and then rammed its head into a nearby wall. She looked up to see two more of its cohorts rushing up to her but it was almost as if everything around her was stuck in slow motion and only she was immune. Buffy moved with a speed and ferocity that she would have found frightening were she in a saner frame of mind. But it paid off as the two demons were swatted away as if they were nothing more than bothersome flies. She walked onwards, stepping over the bodies, intensely focused on one goal. She eventually came upon a small room that was dark except for the glowing screens of several closed circuit TV's. Her attention was drawn inexorably to one particular screen, not because of anything showing on its pixelated palette but by the note taped to the glass:

By the time you read this, I'll be long gone so if I were you, I'd look after my girlfriend rather than waste the time hunting me down. But don't worry, we'll get to meet soon enough. Then you can thank me for not killing your girl like I said I would. I usually like to keep my promises but leaving her like that is worse than killing her, don't you think?

Buffy crumpled up the note, ripping it apart as tears stung her eyes. Movement on one of the screens brought her head up as she saw Faith being quickly carried through the tunnel they'd taken to get down here. Dropping the note, she hurried out.

****

How much time had passed? How much time since the darkness had lifted? The questions bumped lazily around in her head but they never left her lips. They gave her so many pills and drugs...but it wasn't that which prevented her from speaking. It was almost as if that ability had been snatched away from her. Buffy was with her most times when she was awake, trying so hard to look happy and cheerful but she'd broken down on several occasions already, the strain evident in her every move. During those times, she would close her eyes because if she closed them, she wouldn't have to see Buffy in so miserable a position. It was comforting almost to go back to the darkness and she didn't know which was worse; finding comfort in a state that had so terrified her before or witnessing Buffy's anguish with her. Anger at her non-responsiveness would be her first guess. She was angry at it too...in a detached sort of way. Mad that she couldn't find her voice when she needed it the most. Mad that she could have let this happen to her. But especially mad at the little bitch that had tortured her to the point where she had to withdraw this much. That last thought became the focal point for all her anger and, drawing upon it, she was able to slowly crawl her way out of the mental shell she'd built around herself.

****

Faith was recovering---at least that's what she told herself. The other girl was now using crutches to get around and she was speaking again...but only if she were spoken to and then only to respond in the curtest possible manner.

Faith was recovering---at least that's what the doctors said. They were surprised she even made it the first night, let alone be able to walk around in only two weeks time. A medical miracle they coined it.

Faith was recovering---at least that's what her friends said. But they didn't spend nearly as much time with the girl as she did. They didn't see the rage and hatred building in her eyes and if they did, they chose not to comment.

Faith was recovering---yeah, what a crock of bull.

****

Buffy sat on the sofa, eyes staring straight ahead, uncomprehendingly viewing a daytime soap or some such trash. Faith sat next to her and you would've thought it was the most interesting program in history by the way their attention was focused, eyes unwavering. They were in her mother's house, Joyce having opted to go as quickly back to work as possible after the traumatic experience she'd gone through---go figure. She was off on one of her trips; had been for the last two days. Buffy had taken a hiatus from school, against her mother's wishes but even she didn't put up much more than a token fight.

The blonde slayer turned her head to look directly at Faith. There was so much to fix and she wasn't sure if it could be done. And talking about it didn't help because every time she talked---for it would inevitably be her talking---Faith would zone out which would piss her off which in turn caused Faith to withdraw even more. Nothing seemed to help the situation and the more she tried to force it, the worse it got. Shelving those thoughts, she noticed that she'd been staring at the other girl. The wounds had healed completely on the exposed flesh of her arms but she'd carry the scars around forever. Her jaw and cheek which had been so swollen earlier had just the slightest purplish bruise now. And whichever way Buffy looked at it, she still thought her the most beautiful woman she'd ever met...now moreso than ever. Inching closer to the preternaturally still figure, Buffy tentatively laid her head on a tense shoulder. She was through with talking---talking didn't work and she was getting sick of her own voice anyway. All she wanted now was to feel Faith next to her, feel the girl's breath in all its even measure. For some reason, her own breath started to hitch and before she knew it, she was sobbing quietly. Struggling to control emotions that were already riding high, she closed what remaining distance still existed between them and wrapped her arms gingerly around the other girl's waist, closing her eyes tightly shut when she received no response whatsoever.

****

Faith chanced to glance down when she was sure Buffy had fallen asleep, as fitful a slumber as it appeared to be. She was still wrapped up in the blonde's arms. Somehow or another, she would have to get out of the hold. She didn't ask herself why she felt the need to move away so desperately, only that the desire burned in the pit of her stomach like an unquenchable blaze. But how to do that without waking the other girl up? She couldn't---that was the final answer because if they became anymore entangled, they'd be lying on top of each other. So she sat, as still as ever, enduring the suffocating closeness of another human being. Truth be told, she didn't want to be touched; didn't even want to be around anyone that _might_ want to touch her. She couldn't even stand to be near Buffy sometimes because of the other girl's clinginess. All she wanted was to be left alone so she could make sense of the cluttered mess in her head. Why couldn't everybody just leave her the fuck alone? Clenching her teeth together as Buffy moved impossibly closer, she tried her best to ignore the crawly feeling all over her skin. In the back of her mind, she knew she was acting, behaving, and thinking irrationally. But it was all in the back of her mind, overshadowed by new emotions that were also old friends all at the same time---anger and hate, the twin towers in her psyche that now loomed ominously over everything else.

****

"Faith, you have to start talking to me." Another week had gone by and as Faith's physical injuries healed, her emotional ones still seemed stalled at the gate. Buffy had finally snapped, unable to take the cold and distant exterior the brunette had been putting up any longer.

Faith stood tall in the middle of the living room, eyes revealing none of the emotions behind them. "I know."

"I'm trying my best Faith but you have to meet me halfway. You have to let me help you and you have to want the help."

"You know how you can help me?" Faith asked, a spark of anger awakening in her eyes. "Help me find that bitch and then help me kill her. Then, I'll be fine."

"Faith, we'll find her but killing her won't--"Buffy stopped abruptly, the words dying on her lips. They'd been through this so many times already. It always ended the same way. Faith would close herself off and she would end up more frustrated than before. "I want you back so much," Buffy whispered, her eyes meeting those of the other slayer. "I miss you so much Faith."

Faith looked as if the words meant nothing to her but as Buffy watched, something interesting began to happen. The tiniest crack appeared on the fixed composure, revealing something underneath which threatened to close up just as quickly. Buffy reacted, knowing this was her chance and knowing too that she had to grab it before it slipped through her fingers. Placing her hands on Faith's shoulders, she looked steadily into the other girl's eyes, refusing to relinquish the grip or the gaze. "I saw that Faith. I know you're in there somewhere so please come back to me...I love you." Nothing like those three words to elicit a little emotion. "Faith?" She prompted quietly, now seeing the struggle clearly on the brunette's face.

After an interminable silence, Faith finally opened her mouth, taking in a few gulps of air before speaking. "You don't fight fair B." And for the first time in well over three weeks, a smirk, so characteristic of Faith before, accompanied the statement

Buffy immediately launched herself at the other girl, wrapping her arms tightly around Faith's neck and squeezing for all she was worth.

"B...Buffy...need...breath.." Faith gasped as Buffy loosened her hold somewhat.

"It's you right? It's really you?" She asked, her face buried in Faith's chest.

"Who else would it be?" Faith asked lightly, arms already around Buffy's body. "I...I haven't been myself lately. Could you tell? Anyway, as much as I really, really, really want to take that little bitch down, I don't want to lose you while I'm at it---that would be the biggest mistake of my life...I'm sorry Buffy."

And wouldn't you know it, that's the exact time Buffy woke up. Glancing sleepily around, she saw that she was still on the couch, her head resting comfortably on Faith's lap. Slowly getting up, she looked over at Faith and saw the same expression she'd come to dread, namely a blank indifference that could switch to cold fire in a second. Nothing had changed and only a fleeting dream could offer up any sliver of hope.

****

The night air blew softly through the open window, blowing the curtains back and forth. Faith stood next to the opening, eyes fixed steadfastly on the darkness outside. She couldn't get to sleep; she rarely could anymore and staring out at the silent scene lulled her mind somewhat. But tonight, it wasn't working. Tonight, she felt like she was fidgeting out of her own skin because, truth be told, she didn't like this mask she wore anymore. This mask that kept her secure but so alone. Ripping her gaze away, she walked as if in a daze out of the spare bedroom where Joyce had set her up in and padded with silent feet to Buffy's room. Several false starts later, she finally grasped the door handle and pushed it inwards, wincing slightly at the creak accompanying the move. The soft glow of the hall light illuminated the barest outlines within the room. And one of those outlines happened to be snuggled cozily into bed, stuffed pig grasped tightly to her chest.

Faith hesitated briefly before stepping inside, leaving the door slightly ajar as she moved towards the bed. She didn't know how long she stood there watching Buffy sleep, only that she wished this moment would last forever---silent, peaceful, and simple like nothing else had been for such a long time. She found herself suddenly exhausted, physically and especially emotionally. She was so tired---tired of putting up an emotionless front, tired of seeing the guilt and frustration in Buffy's eyes whenever the blonde cast a gaze her way, and so damn tired of letting her life slip away from her control. She barely knew if she was living anymore. Awkwardly kneeling down, a sense of deja vu overwhelmed her as she remembered a night not too long ago when she assumed the same position to watch Buffy sleep. And as before, she ended up curled up around the blonde slayer. Funny that, since she didn't remember ever getting into the bed in the first place.

****

"Vampire, 2 o'clock---in the Hawaiian shirt," Buffy said, eyes fixed on the moving figure.

"Colorblind vamp," Faith added in a dry monotone. "Could he stand out anymore?"

Buffy spared her partner a glance that was equal parts wry and tentative. Ever since she'd woken up with Faith unexpectedly sleeping next to her, she had noticed that the brunette was really putting more of an effort in engaging the rest of the world and not just passing through it like an invisible shade. She was justifiably elated by the sudden change but tried to hold back the emotion for fear of retarding the budding breakthrough. After all, it had only been a day since the transformation---too early to tell and yet late enough to hope. The two slayers proceeded to follow the Day-Glo vamp, trailing a few steps behind him as he entered a narrow alley. Apparently, he was savvy enough to recognize the two women for what they were as soon as they cornered him into a wall.

"Hey look, you don't want to stake me," he said, holding up two placating hands in front of his body as if that would be enough to ward them off.

"I seriously doubt that," the blond slayer replied with a stake already in hand.

The vampire's eyes widened considerably as he started to spill everything he knew in hopes of a reprieve. "I know you guys have been looking for someone, right? Well, I know where she is."

Faith immediately grabbed him by the collar and knocked him back hard into the wall. "Start talking before I pound your head so hard, your brain comes oozing out your ear."

Unprepared for the vehemence of the response, the vamp hesitated before speaking which only earned him another hard shove. After that, he was more than willing to give the slayers a guided tour of exactly where he'd spotted the woman they seemed so eager to find.

"That's the building," the vampire pointed out, glancing around nervously after taking them on a twenty minute trek. "That's where I saw her."

"Are you sure it was her?" Buffy asked as the three of them lingered warily across the street.

"If the one you're looking for likes to wear leather, has her hair in a braid, and runs around with a pack of demons..."

"That's all I need to know," Faith said darkly, starting for the front door of the apartment building. Buffy darted after her and the vamp used that opportunity to get the heck out of there.

"Faith! You can't just go in there like this. You don't even know if---" She looked around and spotted that their informant had just beat a hasty retreat. "--you don't know if he was even telling the truth. And what if she _is_ in there? We don't know how many of her demony pals are also with her."

"Look, I'm going in there. You can either come with or stay out of my way." Faith hurried past the indecisive slayer to creep around the side of the house, disappearing into the shadows. Buffy stood uncertain for a moment, torn between wanting to go back and get some help and going into the unknown with her partner.

****

The guard posted at the door only had time to let out a low grunt before the fist connected square with his face. He didn't even have time to crumple to the ground before his assailant opened the door he'd been guarding and entered. The inside of the house was completely empty and barren of furnishings...that is, except for a poker table where six demons sat playing cards. They all turned as one at the sudden intrusion and it wasn't until someone dropped a chip on the floor that they all seemed to move at once. The demons charged and Faith ducked under the first onslaught only to be met by the second wave. She found herself surrounded by punching fists and kicking feet but it was almost as if she was on auto pilot, taking out one demon after another until nobody was left standing save herself. That state of affairs didn't last too long though as more demons poured down from upstairs, drawn by the noise.

Thrown hard against the far right wall, Faith recovered as fast as she could, lashing out at those close enough for her to take a swing at. Overwhelmed as she should have been by the sheer numbers, nevertheless, she was holding her own. But that didn't mean she wasn't taking a severe beating and as she knocked out the last of the demons, she almost dropped herself as the momentum of her swing brought her forward two huge steps. Breathing heavily, she took a few moments to take stock of the damage she'd sustained before moving to the stairs. Even in her current state, she could endure the pain knowing that she would be able to dish some out soon enough---and on the person she'd dreamed of killing a hundred times over these last few days. Killing the Deputy Mayor and Lester were some of the lowest points in her life; she knew it even as she killed them but there would be no remorse now. No guilt would plague her later either. Taking the stairs slowly, she moved to the top of the landing, seeing nothing and hearing less.

"You really do have the worst timing. Showing up with no notice is extremely rude, you know?" The taunting lilt of the voice suddenly broke the silence. Faith immediately turned to her left, crouching into a defensive posture. The woman she'd been looking for stood not ten feet away with a disgusted expression plastered on her face. "It's my own damn fault really. I should have killed you like I said I would."

"You can try again but you're the one who's going to beg to be killed when it's all said and done."

"Big words but let's see you back it up." She advanced cautiously knowing exactly what Faith was capable of.

The slayer didn't give her a chance to make another move as she launched herself at the other woman, a shoulder ramming squarely into an exposed midriff. The impact sent them both crashing to the floor, skidding several feet as Faith came out on top. Taking advantage of the position, Faith got in several punches before being thrown off. The brunette slayer jumped back to her feet, arm cocked and ready to take a swing again but froze at the sight of the pistol aimed directly at her face. Her eyes darted quickly between the gun and the mockingly triumphant expression appearing on her tormentor's face.

"Before I permanently put a dent in that pretty little face of yours, I just wanna ask you one thing...Do you have any idea who I am?"

Faith made no reply, her whole attention focused on the problem of how to take that gun away without getting shot in the process.

"You don't know or you're just too busy trying to figure out how to disarm me? Doesn't matter though, I want to tell you this---I've been dying to tell you...so to speak." But before she could continue, her explanation was cut short by the shattering of glass as the window behind them came crashing in, accompanied by a blur of motion that barreled into the armed figure, effectively knocking the gun from her hand.

Buffy sat up, straddling the woman she'd knocked down trying to quell the struggling that threatened to displace her position. Just when she was getting a handle on the situation, a hard shove from behind threw her off and before she had time to even look up, three loud bangs erupted and the next thing she knew she was being used as a human shield. An arm wrapped securely around her neck threatened to cut off her breathing and circulation as she was unceremoniously dragged up.

"Shoot me now, Faith! Why don't you shoot me?" The shout increased the ringing already in the blonde's ears caused by the earlier shots. A hysterical laughter followed the outburst as Buffy's eyes caught Faith's gaze and the slightest wave of fear ran down her spine when she realized she didn't s see a shred of her girlfriend in there anywhere. The person looking back at her was a stranger, devoid of any warmth or humanity. She watched almost disbelievingly as the gun in Faith's hand discharged another bullet with a deafening crack and a fiery pain burned through her side almost at the same time. What happened next wasn't so very clear as she laid there on the ground trying to wrap her mind around the fact that she had been shot. She vaguely registered that several more rounds were fired after that in quick succession. Buffy experienced a moment of displacement as she was lifted and carried from the house.

"Faith?" She asked, looking up into the face of the person that held her. She received no answer, not even a hint of recognition that the other slayer had heard her at all. After several more weak attempts to gain Faith's attention with no better success, Buffy slowly succumbed to the drag of sleep that was slowly washing over her.

****

"So you didn't get a look at the person that shot you?" The cop asked, tapping on his notepad with the tip of his pen.

"No, I didn't see anything. It was too dark." Buffy looked down at her hands which were fidgeting with the covers on the bed. From what she'd gathered from the officer, she'd been left at the entrance of the ER where the nurses had eventually found her.

The cop sighed as he closed the notepad and replaced it in his back pocket. "Thank you for your help Miss Summers. We'll try our best to find the person that did this to you. Your mother's already been contacted---she's flying back now." He watched Buffy nod distractedly as she delivered her thanks and he gave her a last comforting smile of his own before leaving.

As soon as he left, Buffy turned on her good side, wrapping her arms around her raised knees. Not a single thought crossed her mind and not a single emotion crossed her heart. And nothing more was left to say as Buffy continued to lay motionless, eyes wide open but unseeing.

****

Her lungs burned for air as her legs pumped relentlessly, propelling her mile after mile over unfamiliar ground. She ran as if her very life depended on it, as if guilt were a physical manifestation nipping at her heels, urging her to go forever faster. As long as she was running, she wouldn't have to face what she'd left behind and the person she'd abandoned. But the fleeting absolution of flight couldn't last forever no matter how much she pushed to go beyond her physical limits. Eventually, she collapsed in a quaking heap, trying to suck in air at a frantic pace as her body started shutting down, refusing to go any further. But as she laid there, her mind continued racing ahead trying to find some reason to stop the spiraling madness; anything to latch onto which would hold her up because to do otherwise would be to lose herself completely.

So she did something that she thought she'd never do again---something she vowed she'd never do again. Faith did a 180; she started asking herself why she should feel guilty. She set out to kill someone who, in her mind, deserved what she got and more. She accomplished her goal. And yes, she did intentionally shoot Buffy in the process but...she'd live. All these and more rationalizations ran through her mind, parading themselves almost as if enticing her like a carnival barker to pick one, any one. And against the better part of herself, the part that still recognized that to embrace any excuse would be to dip back into the darkness she'd fought so hard to hold in control, she set herself up with a crutch. When it was all said and done, didn't one good act even out a bad one? She'd managed to take out a monster, several in fact. That was her job. That was what she was built for and no one on the side of good got killed. And aside from that little act of shooting her girlfriend---well, that was the most expedient way of taking out the enemy, to take down the hostage first. From that perspective, she thought almost desperately, the view wasn't nearly so bad.

****

Joyce was all concern and protective as only a mother could be when she arrived at Sunnydale Memorial. A slayer's life is always full of danger and the overshadowing presence of imminent death at every turn but a slayer is also human, and a daughter to someone. And right then, Buffy was her little girl and she wished not for the first time that her daughter had never been thrust into this role that placed so much responsibility on those frail shoulders.

Joyce sat down on the hospital bed, hands smoothing over the blanket. "What happened?" She asked, wondering at Buffy's severely dejected mood and her unfocused eyes.

"I guess the bad guys finally wandered into the twentieth century, mom." Buffy's listless reply earned her a furrowed brow but before her mother could question her further, she bluntly stated that she was tired and in not so many words, asked Joyce to leave. She didn't look up as her mother gently kissed her on the forehead and she didn't look up when she walked out the door a few minutes later. She could just imagine how it would be later when she'd have to explain what happened to Giles and the others---to look each one of her closest friends in the face and lie to them outright. Just thinking about the prospect twisted her stomach into knots and caused a grimace to form on her face.

But what else could she do? Tell them the truth? The very idea made her scoff out loud. If they knew, she could just picture them screaming for Faith's blood and she didn't need anymore people getting hurt on her behalf. Looking forlornly at the door, she almost wished that Faith would walk through them, her signature smile affixed in place and some kind of explanation on her lips. She wanted an explanation, however flimsy because she wanted to believe Faith cared about her enough to not just abandon her without a word. Angry tears stung her eyes as her hands involuntarily gripped the sheets tighter to her chest. She blinked rapidly, feeling the first wet drops splash across her cheeks and wished, somewhat impetuously that the other slayer had never come back to Sunnydale. It was a wish born from a moment of extreme disappointment and disillusioned belief that would have been tossed aside if Buffy were to think about it for even a second. But a wish, especially one made in Sunnydale can have some unforeseen effects as she was soon to find out.

****

Some time during the night, she must have fallen asleep cause she found herself slowly waking up, becoming aware of the tangled sheets around her legs and the cool air circulating around the room. Her eyes remained closed, trying to will herself back to sleep because she didn't want to deal with reality at the moment. But a sudden shrill chirp snapped her fully awake as her eyes roamed the hospital room for the source of the sound. She didn't have to roam too far since the source was standing right beside her bed, a sheepish expression on his face.

"What are you doing here?" Buffy asked, truly surprised to see her ex standing next to the bed. Then, as if just realizing a fact that couldn't possibly exist outside the realms of an unsettled mind, she gasped and remained speechless until Angel spoke.

"Sorry about the beeper. I forgot to turn it off." Again, he made a contrite shrug of his shoulders as he clipped it back onto his belt. Dressed in a white buttoned down shirt and black slacks, he looked every bit the poster boy for vampire chic, much like he always did but there was something off about him. "Something the matter?" he asked, confused by Buffy's wide eyed expression.

The question seemed to snap her out of a temporary paralysis as she cried out, "Yes there's something the matter. You're black and white---Everything's black and white. _I'm_ black and white." She turned disbelieving eyes to her hands which seemed bleached of all color.

Angel looked around at his surroundings and nodded in agreement. "Yeah. I guess you're right. I don't really notice it anymore but it must be disconcerting for you."

Buffy stared at him as if he'd sprouted another head right before her eyes. 'You're not Angel," she stated with absolute conviction.

The Angel-lookalike smiled slightly, shoving his hands into his pockets. "No, I'm not Angel but I am an angel...kind of"

Buffy blinked a few times, trying to wrap her mind around that fact. "I must be dreaming. Come again?"

"Actually, that's not too far from the truth. On one level, you are dreaming but I'm getting too far ahead of myself. Let me start from the beginning--"

"Please do."

Angel didn't miss a beat as he continued his explanation but he did look at her askance for a moment. "You wished for something earlier this evening...something along the lines of 'I wish Faith had never returned to Sunnydale.' Am I right?"

Buffy was silent as she tried to remember. "But that wasn't really--"

"Uh, uh, uh" Angel admonished, his finger wagging. "That's what you wished for and that's what you're going to get."

She shook her head. "This is a dream. This isn't real."

"Don't count on it."

Buffy watched in disbelief as everything around her started to dissipate and take on a hazy quality. The room, in addition to the bed she laid on, slowly disappeared to be replaced by the familiar surroundings of her college campus. She looked down at her body and, instead of a flimsy hospital gown, she was now dressed in jeans and a T-shirt.

"This IS a dream, yes," Angel said from behind her, sipping nonchalantly on an iced coffee. "But it could also be reality---your reality if you want it. And before you answer too hastily, just let me show you what it could be like."

"All right," she answered, taking a minute to reorient herself. "But does everything have to be monochromatic? I feel like I'm stuck in an episode of Leave it to Beaver and it's seriously starting to creep me out."

The complaint elicited a weary sigh from Angel but he snapped his fingers nonetheless in an irritated display and, suddenly, all the colors were back in startling clarity. In the back of her mind, she was thinking that this reminded her of 'The Wizard of Oz' when Dorothy came out of her farm house into a Technicolor Munchkin's paradise. "Okay, see? Color is a good thing." She glanced around approvingly, ignoring the slight frown on her companion's face. "So what are you going to show me and why do you look like Angel?"

"He has cool hair and I thought his image would put you more at ease but that's beside the point. You should be happy---Not many people have the opportunity to get their wish fulfilled."

As he went on about how grateful she should be, Buffy's attention wandered, tracking to the side. She still didn't believe any of this was for real but her eyebrows hiked up to her hairline when she saw herself walking across the quad. The only other time she felt this disconcerted was back when Faith switched their bodies. She pointed behind Angel, finally getting his attention to the more important matter at hand---namely, that there were now two of her occupying the same general space.

"She can't see us, you know," Angel pointed out, waving a dismissive hand and getting back to what he was saying. "So, like I was saying, this is kind of a cross between 'It's a Wonderful Life' and 'A Christmas Carol' only without the sanctimonious morality ending. Does that help?"

"Did I hit my head without my knowing?" She asked, still looking past him. "Is that what this is? A fevered dream chucked up by a bruised brain?"

Angel did not respond as he walked over to where Buffy number 2 was standing, wholly expecting number one to follow, which she eventually did.

The two of them stood there observing the blond haired girl which Buffy found much too weird an idea to spend too much time contemplating even if this were nothing more than a dream. "Why do I look so happy?" She asked, not trying to hide the irritation in her voice. It wasn't fair that she was so unbearably miserable while her counterpart looked so...content was the first word that came to mind.

Angel folded his arms across his chest as he replied in a most practical tone of voice that this other Buffy had no reason not to be happy.

As they continued to watch, Willow and Jim approached and a sudden stab of guilt pierced her heart. She'd avoided Jim ever since the earthquake and he'd eventually given up on trying to get in touch with her. It was wrong of her to just blow him off but she just couldn't deal with him or his expectations at the time. She watched as Buffy number 2 gave him a soft kiss on the lips after which all three of them left together.

"This would've been the present if Faith hadn't shown up," Angel said speaking up, his tone betraying nothing.

"It can't all be the land of milk and honey," Buffy muttered, still staring after the trio.

Angel shrugged. "When has it ever been like that. All I'm saying is that, in this time, you aren't laid up in a hospital bed and Faith isn't curled up in a god forsaken hole in the ground, getting in touch with her dark side."

Buffy turned to stare sharply at him. "What do you mean by that? What's happening to Faith?"

"Whoa, hold up Steely B." He received a questioning look at the use of the nickname. "Let me show you some more okay?" He waited for the nod, however reluctantly it was given and then smiled in relief.

Buffy wasn't too sure how to react since such a ludicrously wide smile had never graced the real Angel's face and seeing it now, freaked her out like no slimy demon ever could.

"Fine, you've shown me how happy I am but what about Faith? I want to see how she's doing."

"Uh..." Angel hesitated causing Buffy to stare stonily up at him. "That's not gonna be possible."

"Why not!" she nearly shouted.

"Cause when you wished that Faith had never come back...it's not just back to Sunnydale, it's back from the dead." He looked on nervously when Buffy didn't speak.

"Then, that's it," she finally said, waving him off. "I don't want to go any further--"

"Wait!" He interrupted, a strain of desperation running through his face. "Hold on..." With a resigned sigh, he again snapped his fingers. The scene changed once again but this time she was prepared for the shift and any disorientation was kept to a minimum. As soon as her surroundings stabilized, she immediately launched into Angel. "What do you think you're going to accomplish by showing me all this? You think if you show me a little piece of this and a little piece of that, I'll just give up on my life? On Faith?"

Angel immediately protested. "That's not what I'm trying to do."

"Then exactly what are you trying for? You say you're showing me alternatives but you never did tell me why. What's in it for you?"

"All right, look," he said, sitting down on the recliner behind him. "I'm going to level with you--"

"Oh, gee thanks," Buffy mumbled, taking a seat herself on the adjacent sofa.

Angel took a moment to collect his thoughts and then looked directly into the slayer's eyes. "Faith died," he stated bluntly. "...when people die, they don't usually come back to life. Haven't you ever wondered how she did it?"

"She's never told me," Buffy reluctantly admitted.

Angel nodded his head as he continued. "And you probably never thought to ask why it is that another slayer was never called after Faith died."

"We always assumed that the Council must have located her first."

"Not exactly."

"So what exactly did happen?" She pressed.

"I can't tell you all the specifics but, suffice it to say, Faith made a bargain with the wrong people. And now, it's time to rectify the situation...You have to make it right again Buffy."

"What? Why me? And what makes you think that I'm going to do anything that will endanger Faith?"

"Don't you remember? You're the one she came back for. You're the one who _asked_ her to come back. It's on your shoulders and you have to make the decision. I hate to beat a dead horse, but it's all you right now." At her still skeptical expression, he tried going in a different direction. "Buffy, you know Faith doesn't belong here. By all rights, she should already be dead and you'll only be balancing the scales again. You're the slayer---do the right thing."

Her expression changed, acquiring a hard edge as she gave him what she termed the slayer stare, reserved for use only in those rare circumstances when she was truly and wholly pissed off. "I won't do it. Get someone else to do your dirty work." She waited for him to respond and received nothing but stony silence.

"You have no idea what you're about to do," he quietly stated, not backing down one bit. "What you've already unleashed...and you sit there telling me that you feel no compulsion to fix your mistakes?" Her gaze turned downward, no longer willing to meet his accusatory stare as a creeping darkness started to steal across her vision. "I'll give you one week to think about it," she heard him say as if from an echoing distance. "It'll be your call. Make the right choice Buffy."

The next thing she knew, she was waking up back in her hospital room, wondering what it was about slayers and dreams that always produces such combustible results. She had no idea what time of day it was or how long she'd been asleep. But as disoriented as she was, she couldn't miss the person sitting next to her bed---staring vacantly up at the ceiling.

"Faith?" Her voice came out cracked and raw like she'd yelled for far too long at a football game or something.

Faith's attention immediately focused on her, eyes betraying the barest hint of panic before a wall came up in front of them, effectively shielding off any emotions she might be feeling.

"Welcome back to the land of the living B. How're you feeling?"

"Like I've been wracked on some medieval torture device."

"That good, huh?" The conversation pretty much stalled there, neither one knowing what else to say to the other. Faith finally broke the uneasy silence, not being one to endure any sort of quiet without wanting desperately to jump out of her own skin. "About what happened..." She faltered. What could she say to justify what she'd done?

"I know Faith...I know--You didn't mean to right?" Buffy asked, desperately needing to hear that no, her girlfriend hadn't meant to shoot her. "It was an accident." She said it more to comfort herself than anything else but watched as Faith's expression darkened to a dangerous level...to the point where she could almost measure the degrees.

"Where do you come off?" The dark haired slayer abruptly stood up, nearly overturning her chair in the process. "How is it that in your perfect little world I'm the one who's always wrong? How is it that I'm the one who makes all the mistakes and I'm always the one screwing up? What if I told you that I meant to shoot you?" She paused momentarily at the stricken expression crossing the other girl's face. "Yes, it's true. I meant to do it and if I had it to do all over again, I'd have shot you again because YOU WERE IN THE WAY!"

The last part came out an enraged shout as she stared fixedly down at her girlfriend who was on the brink of dissolving into tears.

"I...I didn't mean it like that," Buffy choked out over the lump in her throat. "Why are you saying this?"

"Cause it's true. Everything I've said is the honest to fucking God truth and I'm sick of it always going your way. You and your friends have already shown me how little you really think of me and I've had it up to here. I'm not your second stringer and you're not the end all and be all. It's taken a while for me to get that but I have--gotten it." Faith angrily turned away, so filled with her own rage that she couldn't hear Buffy's weak protests to the contrary.

"Fuck it. I'm out of here," she snarled. stalking out the door. And not once, during that entire time, did she actually look Buffy in the eyes. If she had, she might still be in that room, apologizing for her outburst. As it was, she ended up angrily walking from the hospital, literally seeing red in front of her eyes. She'd never gotten over how their lives had worked out like they had---her and Buffy's that is. How did one person end up with a loving home and loyal friends and another one end up with a fucked up mother and no one but herself to depend on? The jealousy never did leave her heart and no matter how hard she fell for Buffy, she doubted it would ever truly disappear.

And now, in her mind, Buffy was doing the exact same thing she'd done when the Deputy Mayor died---namely, placing blame. And of course it was always Faith's fault. Fuck, it probably was. Even Faith knew that. But when you love someone, you're supposed to stand by them no matter what---even if they intentionally shoot you.

The truth was, Buffy could never love her like that. This was a fact she'd long ago resigned herself to. To expect Buffy to love someone like her was something she only hoped for in the deepest corners of her mind where the last shreds of her innocence still clung to with a death grip. She thought she could deal with it since even half of the blonde slayer's love was better than none at all.

She thought wrong.

****

Buffy almost got up in pursuit of the other slayer as she stormed out of the room but the pain refused to let her walk so easily or to even get up for that matter. What had just happened? Why did Faith react like that? Did she mean what she'd said? The questions swirled together making her head ache. Whatever the doctors had given her was starting to kick in again as she felt her mind starting to drift off. The last thing she puzzled over before succumbing was whether quasi-Angel was right. Did she need to put things back to the way they were? Did she have the strength to knowingly kill Faith again? Did she want to?

****

Faith spent the rest of the night walking aimlessly around Sunnydale, stopping at times to put a stake through an unlucky vamp. She did it with a cold efficiency she'd gotten used to for the last few weeks when it seemed nothing could rouse her from the cold place inside her own mind. It'd been created when she had needed it the most and now it lured her back like a siren's song.

She looked up into the faint rays of the emerging sun, closing her eyes at the start of another day she would have to claw through. Almost of its own accord, her mind returned to the girl she'd left lying in the hospital bed---the girl she'd PUT in the hospital bed.

It all seemed like a dream now in the light of day...a nightmare, really. Because it could only be in a nightmare that Faith could imagine herself saying the things she had said to Buffy. She winced even thinking about the harsh words that had passed her lips. The emotions had felt real enough---the jealousy, bitterness, and intense anger. Where were they now?

All she felt as she stood there in the weak morning sun was an empty hollowness almost like some integral part of herself was missing. Come to think of it, it would have been better to have just blown her brains out right after she laid that little bitch down, save everyone else the trouble of dealing with the shit that was her. Save Buffy the trouble of having to love someone who didn't deserve it. It's not too late though, a voice whispered inside her head. And her mind flashed to the gun she'd dropped in the apartment. Maybe she could finally do something right for a change, Faith thought, opening her eyes to a day that she might not have to struggle through after all.

****

Buffy accepted the flowers that Xander had thoughtfully gotten for her at the hospital gift shop with a distracted "Thanks."

"What happened?" Willow asked, concern evident on her face and in her voice. It was so like the redheaded witch to worry about her, even when it was clear that she was all right.

"I..I was shot by that woman who took my mom and Faith." Her eyes refused to focus on any one of them, afraid that they would see through her lie.

They all made the appropriate comments and agitated utterances in all the right places. But they didn't even know that it had been worse than that---a hundred times worse.

"Don't worry Buff," Xander said puffing himself up to his full height. "We'll get her. She'll be wishing she hadn't ever messed with the slayer--"

"Actually," Buffy said interrupting. "She's kinda dead. Shot full of holes and everything."

A moment of complete silence followed the announcement. She guessed they weren't used to her killing off anything that was actually human---even though it wasn't actually her that took the shots.

"Good," Xander said, finally finding his voice. "Good riddance to bad villains...so what'd you do with the gun?"

"The gun?" The question of what had happened to the weapon hadn't ever crossed her mind. "What?"

"They find your prints on the handle, it could be a problem," he stated as if that were one of the most obvious points to anybody with half a brain. "Look, we can go over there and wipe the gun off before the police find the body. Just tell us where it is."

Willow and Giles nodded rather uncertainly, for once letting Xander take charge. He sounded like he knew what he was talking about. At least they hoped so.

****

"Did Buffy seem a little...off to you?" Xander asked glancing over at his best friend. He and Willow were given the task of going over to the place that the slayer had indicated the gun should still be. "I mean, granted she's just been shot but she just looks sorta..."

"Off," Willow supplied, recycling his earlier assessment. "Yeah, I know what you mean. She doesn't seem herself...kinda depressed even."

"And there was one person notably absent from the gathering."

They were both silent, neither one wanting to actually say the name of this person. Old wounds die hard and even harder on the hellmouth. The address they'd been looking for appeared after another ten minutes, looking no less hostile or menacing than any of the other buildings in the neighborhood. In fact, it looked downright normal and well maintained. Not the typical monster's nest at all.

Trying the door as Xander looked around for any lingering danger, Willow found it unlocked. Walking in, they found several dead bodies decorating the barren interior. She swallowed uneasily, reaffirming her desire to not stay any longer than absolutely necessary.

"Buffy said it was upstairs," she quietly said, inching around the spread eagled corpse of one of the demons.

They climbed quickly up the stairs, each steeling themselves for what they were about to see. The two emerged into the wide open space that comprised the entirety of the second floor. Xander stopped dead in his tracks, not because the sight of the body on the floor in front of him was that shocking but because the gun they were looking for was now being pointed straight at his head. Willow, who was trailing behind, clambered up next to him, wondering why he'd stopped so suddenly.

Exhaling a soft breath, she tried to make sense of why Faith was sitting on a chair next to the body, holding a gun and aiming at Xander's head. Aside from the soft exhalation, there wasn't another sound until the dark slayer seemed to finally recognize who had come barging into her moment. A dull sort of recognition entered those brown eyes and a second later, the gun was lowered to rest in her lap.

"I'm busy," Faith said with all the energy of a heavily sedated corpse. "Come back in a half hour." Her right index finger never moved from its position over the trigger.

The Scoobies quickly glanced at each other, clearly unnerved by their current predicament.

"Faith," Xander said, speaking softly so as not to upset the girl any more than she appeared to be. "Why don't you put down that gun? They're dangerous, y'know. Never know when they might misfire or something."

Faith looked at him for a long moment before muttering, "I wasn't going to shoot you." Then she raised the muzzle of the gun until it was pointing straight up and not an inch underneath her chin. "I've been sitting here for two hours. I think I'm ready now." The most serene expression flashed across her face and just when she was about to close her eyes for what would've been the final time, Willow's shout interrupted her.

"NO! What are you doing?" The witch climbed up the remaining step, stopping when she saw the slayer's body tense slightly. "You can't --you can't shoot yourself." At seeing Faith's small smirk, Willow decided to bring out the big guns, so to speak. "What about Buffy? I thought you cared for her. I thought you loved her. Do you know what she went through the last time you left? Are you going to make her go through all that again?"

For the first time, Faith's hand faltered uncertainly. "She's better off without me."

"Did you just pull that excuse out of your ass? Cause that's what it sounds like," Xander said, looking intently at Faith. "You know how much this hurts me to say but even I know Buffy needs you. Anybody with eyes can see that so don't try to play the martyr card. It doesn't suit you."

Faith looked disbelievingly at the two of them. "Don't you two know what I did to your golden slayer?" Seeing the confused expressions appearing on both their faces, her grip again tightened with purpose. "I guess she didn't tell you yet...who do you think put her in that hospital? Wasn't her." Eyes involuntarily moved to rest on the body lying lifeless on the ground in front of her. "You still think I'm good for Buffy?"

****

The unnerving sense of unease that had plagued her all morning suddenly flared up, making its presence known again. It was a nagging sensation. One that Buffy had learned to trust just as she did all her other instincts. That's why she found herself sneaking out of the hospital and overtly defying doctor's orders to make her way to the building where she'd been shot the night before.

There was definitely something wrong and as she got closer to the front door, the feeling just kept escalating until a sudden loud crack whipped through the air, making her reflexively jump back a step.

"Gun," she muttered under her breath, already moving through the apartment after having nearly ripped the door off its hinges in her haste. Quickly assessing that nobody was on the main floor, she took the stairs two at a time, hoping against all odds that nobody was hurt because in Sunnydale, every little bit helped...even if it WERE just a silent prayer.

****

"Try that again Harris and the bullet will be in you next time." Faith stared down the barrel of the gun at Xander's tense form, almost daring him to make another stupid move.

"You bitch," he spat out with venomous rage, "You're given chance after chance and this is how you repay us? How you repay her?"

The brunette said nothing, having nothing to counter his statements with. It was all true anyway. She kept screwing up. Over and over again, it was the same shit---get your hopes up that everything might turn out good for a change and you get kicked in the ass each and every time. At least this time around she was doing something about it. No more chances. No more screw ups. This was it.

She'd counted the chambered bullets nearly a hundred times by now.

Two at the start.

One left.

She doubted Willow and Xander would object to her putting it in her brain now.

One.

One last chance.

****

"Faith, stop!" Buffy shouted as soon as she got to the top of the stairs. "Whatever you're thinking of doing, don't."

Faith. Gun. Angry Xander. Angry Willow.

Situation sized up.

"Guys," she said, cutting off anything her two friends might have wanted to say. "Go downstairs---now." When they didn't move fast enough for her liking, she once again reiterated, "GO!" leaving no room in her tone for discussion. She knew she'd get an earful later but right now, that didn't matter in the least. She waited, eyes never leaving Faith's as Willow and Xander filed by her and down the stairs.

Once the two slayers were alone, Buffy immediately reached out a hand. "Give me the gun Faith," she said, her eyes pleading for the other girl to do just that.

"I can't do that B," the brunette answered sadly, raising the gun so that it pointed at her right temple.

Buffy took a shaking breath and when she spoke, a slight quaver had entered into her voice. "Faith, I've stood by you through everything that's come our way. I've supported you and loved you just like you've done for me...but if you do this...if you pull that trigger, I will hate you for the rest of my life." Tears welled up in her eyes, clouding her vision for a few brief moments before they fell.

"You don't understand--"

"And I don't want to. Not if it means you're going to die on me again. Don't make me go through that pain again Faith. Don't make me wish I was dead too." As she was talking, she was taking baby steps towards the volatile girl.

****

"I...Buffy..." Faith wanted to tell her to stop coming forwards. She wanted to pull the trigger so badly, she could feel her finger starting to cramp from all the inactivity. All she had to do was move one muscle.

But how could she do that when Buffy was looking at her like that.

How could she do that when the blonde's hand had wrapped around her own.

And how could she do that when the gun wasn't in her hand anymore.

"Buffy?" She questioned.

"It's all right Faith." The older slayer said, pulling her into an embrace. "Everything's going to be all right."

Faith nodded into the other girl's shoulder even though she knew it was a big fat lie. It hurt so much every time she let Buffy down. And in not pulling that trigger, she knew it would bring her down hard---eventually. She was always such a screw up.

One.

One last chance.

Zero left.

The End