megatron: (Default)
megatron ([personal profile] megatron) wrote2007-08-09 03:13 pm

Fanfiction: Weapon - BtVS - PG-13 - Gen

Title: Weapon
Author: [personal profile] whisperwords | [personal profile] megatron
Fandom: Buffy, the Vampire Slayer
Characters: Faith
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Faith loses herself. "Bad Girls" interlude.
Words: 516

Faith had known for a little under two years how it feels to push a stake through a vampire. The force of her strength met resistance for only a moment, just an instant, and the creature of the night was already beginning to disintegrate by the time the side of her hand meets its chest.

The feel of it was always, always the same. For Faith, it was calmingly familiar. Regardless of the difficulty of the fight, the size and shape of her opponent, or the noisy banter of grunts and one-liners they exchange, the final punctuation of it all was inevitably the same.

Until that night.

"Faith, NO!" Buffy’s cry came too late, and Faith didn’t stop in time. But she knew. It felt wrong. Living flesh and a beating heart resisted, pushed against her stake, and she knew even as the power behind the blow forced the wood into his chest that he was alive. Living, breathing, and thoroughly alive. And as her hand dropped and she took a horrified step back, she saw the life in him, pushing wildly through his eyes as if anticipating its escape. Panicked sounds came from the man’s throat as his blood spilled from the mistake she’d made.

"I didn’t… I didn’t know, I didn’t know."

"We need to call 911. Now!" Buffy said, and then she said more words, more panicked, fleeting words that Faith didn’t hear. Couldn’t hear. She simply watched as the man shook, his eyes ever widening with the fear of Death. And when Death came for him, she continued to stare and she watched – she saw the life leave him, saw him become something new and different. Saw his arm fall to his side from the corner of her eye, limp and useless next to his slumped body.

She stared for a moment longer at him, as if training her eyes on his, open and lifeless, would somehow will the life to return to them. And then something snapped.

She hauled Buffy to her feet and they took off, Faith in the lead, frantically leading them away from her mistake, away from the Wrong Thing she had done so irreversibly that she couldn’t even consider the thought of waking up tomorrow and still being Faith.

Hours later she returned to the scene and hauled the man to the river, though not before closing his eyes.

She spent the morning washing her hands. She scrubbed them over and over, soaping and soaping again until she had none left. And after Buffy came and left, she grew tired of the fear, grew tired of the tremor in her hands, and she held them in front of her until the shaking stopped. She clenched her jaw and steeled herself. She would be a new woman, a rogue. She had always been good at reinventing herself. She grabbed her bags and left Faith in the apartment with her unpaid bills.

It would be years before the weight of a simple wooden stake would comfort her again, though the knives she found to replace them would never fail her.

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