This Is How It Goes

Buffy blinked as Faith walked back over to her bed, facing the wall. She probably should have expected this, this distancing.

"How do you feel?" Buffy asked quietly.

She saw Faith shake her head. "I wasn't sure where I was when I woke up," she said softly, back still to Buffy. "Wasn't sure if I was alive, or in ..." her voice trailed off. Buffy felt like the other girl was suddenly too far away, but didn't move. "I was ready, you know," Faith started again, in a slightly stronger voice. "When I went to the library, when I went after you ... I was ready."

Buffy's brow creased. "For what?"

"Not coming back."

Buffy's stomach clenched at the simplicity, the lack of emotion in that statement. "I wasn't," she said, slowly, clearly. Faith turned around, a flash of anger in her expression.

"You know what I dreamed about there?" Faith asked harshly, her eyes narrow as she jerked her head towards the empty bed. "You know what I dream about every night?" Buffy didn't say anything. "Killing people. You, Giles, Willow, random guys. I dream about shoving rebars through your skulls and watching you bleed out. And not caring." She was spitting out the words, her face rigid. "That the kind of person you want coming back, huh? 'Cause that's the kind of person I am."

"Bullshit," Buffy said calmly. Faith stared at her. "That's not who you are."

"That's all I am," Faith said quietly, sadness eclipsing her anger. "That's what I'm made to be."

"No. You're not," Buffy said firmly, stepping forward. "This? This power that we have, Faith? It's just that. Power. Not good or bad. And it's ours. It's our choice." She shook her head, brow furrowed. "I understand that now. Our strength, our speed, our abilities — we decide what to do with them. We don't have to be defined by the fact that we slay. We define ourselves. We make ourselves." She fixed Faith's gaze, moving closer. "This is the one thing we have control over. Our actions."

"Except when you don't," Faith said shortly.

"That wasn't you," Buffy responded quickly.

Faith looked away and exhaled. "Maybe, maybe not. Can't tell the difference now."

"I can," Buffy said softly. They looked at each other. "Do you know what a Slayer is, Faith?"

Faith raised an eyebrow. Even after a coma, the snark still existed.

"Alone," Buffy answered simply. Faith's eyebrow went down. "I was called three years ago, and I felt more alone than I've ever felt in my entire life. A Slayer is alone. Even my friends," she swallowed, "even Angel, they can't understand what it's like. No one can really. One girl in all the world, right? I'm meant to slay, to live in isolation. And I was ... until you came." She stepped forward and reached out her hand to take Faith's. The brunette didn't pull away. "Don't you see? I'm not one girl anymore. You came. You can understand me. You are the one person who I can share that with." Buffy felt her throat close up at the emotion in Faith's eyes. "We don't have to do this alone."

Faith didn't answer, just kept looking at her with deep, shining eyes.

"I love you," Buffy said, her voice cracking. "And it's not because you're a Slayer, Faith. It's because of you. I know who you are. I know the good and bad. And I want you to come back."

She searched Faith's face for several moments and then leaned in again, stopping inches from Faith's lips to give her a chance to pull away. She didn't. Faith herself closed the distance between their mouths, and the first contact felt like coming home. It was a short, chaste kiss for them, just a re-introduction, but the emotion flowing through it made it electric, made it resonate through Buffy's entire body. The feel of soft, full lips, breath mingling, the way their fingers interlaced even tighter throughout the kiss — it was right.

Faith pulled back and they stood, foreheads resting together.

"I love you so much it's fucking terrifying," Faith said ruefully.

Buffy laughed softly. "Of course. You can face mucus-shooting, green-scaled demons with razors for arms without twitching, but having a girlfriend just crosses that pants-pissing line, huh?"

She felt Faith smile briefly, and then become serious again. The other girl inhaled deeply, shakily.

"I just ... I don't know who I am anymore," Faith whispered.

Buffy smiled. "I'll teach you."

THE END