Impressionable Sorrows
by DawnBTVS
Part III: Leaving One World and Entering Another
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I knocked on the door, knowing that Angel would be the only one around. Buffy and Willow were parked out in front, waiting. I'm not sure if Angel knew they were in LA, but I wasn't going to tell him and set off that round of fireworks. My black duffel bag hung loosely over my shoulder. I had on a pair of tight fitting blue jeans, a white top, and had my hair tied back in a ponytail. I was experimenting with the ponytail. Willow liked it, Buffy liked it too...but she was lying. Angel opened the door, and stood there, quietly. Damn I hate doing this. They always make it so fucking hard to do.
"Hey. My ride's out front. I'm heading back to Sunnydale at the request of a friend. Um...I wanted you to know...it was fun. The violence, helping around, you know," I say, stammering a little. I hate saying thanks even more than I hate saying goodbye. Thankfully, Angel picks up on my meaning.
"You're welcome, Faith. I'll let the others know that you've moved on. Remember, you're always welcome here," he replies. He still has a stoic look...but I can see his lips tugging ever so slightly. No way! This motherfucker is going to smile...at me! Sure enough, he smiles. It's contagious. I smile as well, give him a nod, then turn and make my way to the waiting vehicle. It's time for me to return to Sunnydale, home sweet home.
~~~BTVS~~~
I woke up, disoriented. Buffy was grinning at me, sitting next to me. I looked at her, confused, and for a moment I forgot where I was and why. Then it hit me, like a ton of bricks. I moan, trying to go back to sleep but it's an effort in futility now. The car screeches to a stop, and I go flying against my seat buckle. I let out a cry between a choke and a grunt of pain. Willow looks back at me, one of those sheepish, innocent, I did nothing wrong grins playing on her face. I scowl at her as she giggles. She points at the all too familiar house.
"We're home," she says, as I nod my head, and unbuckle myself. I step out of the car, close the door, and stand there. I'm rigid with fear of the unknown. I'd never admit that I'm scared; I'm too tough for that. The prospect of seeing Ms. Summers, after what I had done, didn't fill me with hope for sunshine and puppies. More like daisies and graves. Buffy and Willow, somehow, both sense my dread though. They can't see me like this. I march confidently past them. I'm aware they've exchanged looks now. I walk right up to the door, raise my hand to knock...and it swings open. Joyce Summers staring directly at me. I freeze. My mind screaming for me to run and my body almost listens. Almost, but it doesn't do my bidding. Joyce is angry. I can definitely see and feel her anger. I flinch, finding the frame of the doorway, very interesting now.
"Come in, Faith," Ms. Summers says, quietly, even tone. I can see the anger in her eyes though. She doesn't trust me as far as she can throw me. I step inside, move to the living room. Xander, Giles, some blonde chick, Tara, and some girl all stare at me. Tara's expression is soft, like she wants to judge me on what I do now rather than my past. She reminds me of the way Angel was when we met last month. The blonde chick holding Xander's hand seems pretty indifferent to me. Giles has a glower that only he can do. It's like he's angry, disappointed, and stoic all at the same time. Most of The Council had similar expressions, but only Giles could pull it off so perfectly. Xander looks like Wesley. Not as angry, just distrustful of me. Probably not happy with the way I hurt Buffy and friends. The brunette looks all of fifteen years old. She reminds me of Buffy, very similar in that holier than thou type aura about them. Of course, she glares at me, pulling off a look that's almost a mirror image of Joyce. I just stand there. Joyce steps past me, taking a seat next to the brunette. Buffy and Willow stand beside me and I can't help but notice that they're holding hands. I notice Willow's grasp is white knuckled, like she's terrified to be there at the moment. Buffy keeps her cool though. Buffy always had a knack for that.
"Back to make our lives a living hell?" asks Xander, almost snarling at me. I avert my eyes to the floor. Not answering, not sure how to answer that short of saving their lives when an apocalypse comes.
"Xander. She's been in Los Angeles for the past month. She was working with Angel," Willow snaps. I'm surprised at the redhead. She shouldn't be sticking up for me, especially her. I look at her, the surprise on my face still evident. Willow looks at me and steps back with a blush.
"Did she escape?" asks Giles. I noticed he didn't ask me this directly, and I'm a little thankful. The question stings, but I have to take my lumps. Buffy answers this time, glancing at me first for my approval. I just nod my head.
"No. She went to jail, voluntarily. The Council took her a week later. Faith hasn't told us much about what went on, specifically, but she said that she got out rehabilitated. A little early for good behavior," she replies. I understand the question and answer session, I really do. It's just...what I wouldn't give for a hot shower right now. I hear a snort, and turn my attention to the teenager. She looks up at me, staring me down, almost daring me to say something. I keep quiet though.
"Good behavior? Like what she did to you, Willow. Like the way she tried to kill Angel," she says, pointedly. I'm confused, not sure how she knows so much about me. I've never seen her in my life. I feel out of the loop now, and it's not a good feeling.
"I know she doesn't have the best track record, Dawn," Buffy says, glancing at me. I keep my eyes locked on hers though. "Angel told me that she's been trying though. More so than the last time we met," says Buffy, and I know exactly what she's talking about. Buffy tried so hard to help me, time and time again. I was so fucking stupid. I didn't need her help. I was too good for it. That thinking did a world of good when I went to jail.
"She's a homicidal maniac. I think she should be in jail," comments the blonde beside Xander. I look at her in shock. Not at her words. She was just so blunt, which I wasn't expecting...at all. Xander blushes as he catches my expression, and turns to the girl.
"Anya...honey. Next time, try not to be so...straight forward," says Xander, trying to appeal to his girlfriend. Anya rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. Xander turns to me, an apologetic smile on his face. It's progress at least. I remain quiet, not wanting to talk, and bury myself in a deeper hole.
"Could you tell us about the time you spent with The Council? Erm, if you're up to it, that is," asks Giles, stammering at the end. I crack a weak smile, more to calm myself, then out of gladness. I nod my head as Buffy and Willow take a seat on the couch, snuggling together. They make a great couple, even I have to admit. I feel like I'm telling a story at camp, without the roasting campfire, marshmallows, or singalongs.
"I was taken in a week after I wound up in jail. In jail, I got into fights. Big shocker huh? Anyways, I learned to craft that into bumming smokes. Not good for your health, Dawn. I got hauled out, boarded an airplane, and was off to cheery England. They had this huge building. I was led there, and stayed in a cell about as big as this room. It was actually pretty comforting...although I was used to living in apartments with rooms as big as your closet, B. At first they kept me in containment, complete isolation from the other inmates for fear that I'd kill them. I probably would've. After the second week, they decided to test me for field drills. You'd have loved it, B. Completely controlled environment. It was so fu-very boring," I say, catching myself from swearing. Dawn rolls her eyes as I smirk. "The first month was pretty uneventful aside from the field work. The second month, I was allowed to intermingle with the other inmates and eat in the cafeteria. That's when I started my meditation. Another inmate began teaching me meditation. How to center myself, control my emotions, you know, stuff like that. That's been the biggest help as far as being out in the real world thus far. By the third month, I started up a pit. The pit was for fighting, and was approved by The Council. Turns out, I had a laundry list of enemies, what luck. So, every Tuesday and Thursday I would go out to the yard, and fight with an enemy on my list. Other inmates could fight each other as well. The Council was happy, since they saw it as a way of spring-cleaning. Most of the fights were to the death. I don't think The Council really gave a damn whether we survived or not. That's what I did until I was released. By the last day I was there, almost half the inmates had died in my pit. It was strictly for my survival. If I didn't fight, I was bound to get a shiv stuck in my gut," I say, growing quiet. I watch their reactions. Buffy, Willow, Xander, Tara, and Joyce all look shocked. Giles is busy wiping his glasses furiously. Anya looks pretty indifferent to my ordeal. Dawn...looks like she thinks I'm the coolest person in the world. That might be a bad thing.
"That is so cool," Dawn exclaims. Buffy shoots her a glare, as Dawn pouts, and folds her arms across her chest. I smirk. Sisters, I think...suddenly confused again. I don't remember Dawn at all. So why is nobody else freaked out? Whatever.
"I-I must say, Faith, I erm, commend you on your ability to uh, adapt," Giles stammers. I nod my head, appreciative, but not ready to say such a big thing as thanks just yet.
"Are you okay?" asks Buffy, concern on her face. I shrug, not sure what to tell her. I consciously trace my finger over my five-inch scar beneath my top.
"I was given a present on my day out. You know, a little reminder. Other then that, I'm five by five though," I say, feeling vulnerable. I don't like this now, I feel awkward, and like nobody else can connect with me. It sucks being alone sometimes.
"Can we see it?" asks Willow, her voice filled with a little awe. I glance at Joyce and Dawn. Joyce looks at Dawn, turns her attention back to me, and nods her head. I slowly lift the bottom of my shirt, revealing the lovely five-inch gash just above my belly button.
"I never got it stitched. I figured with Slayer healing, I didn't want to give the girls the victory of sending me to the hospital wing. I just wrapped my bedding around it, held it there for a good day or two," I comment, lowering my shirt, and hugging myself with both arms. I feel naked, open, like I just exposed myself to the world, and they know exactly how I work.
"You look pretty tired, Faith. I'm sure you've had quite the ordeal since arriving back in the US. We'll let you rest now. You can sleep on the couch tonight. I hope you don't mind," says Joyce. I feel myself filling with warmth, but I keep my hope buried. It's just one day. I nod my head.
"Sure," I reply, grateful for the thought. The others stand, soon filing out of the home. Buffy and Willow each hug me goodnight. Giles assures me that I'll know everything that's happened in the Magic Box tomorrow. I sincerely hope he doesn't mean a literal magic box. Dawn walks by, gazing at me, still in awe. I roll my eyes, pushing her towards the stairs. Joyce walks up to me, but pauses.
"It seems that my daughter, Dawn that is, fancies you quite a bit after that...excerpt. I want you to know, that I'm willing to trust you. It'll take time, for me to build that trust," Joyce says. I just nod my head.
"I understand," I reply, sadness now filling me from head to toe. Joyce leaves, soon returning with a blanket and pillow. I accept them with a smile. She heads upstairs as I head into the living room. I get everything setup and lie down, but I can't get to sleep. When I close my eyes, all I can see is the look of shock on Allan Finch's face. Happy dreams indeed huh? Finally, I doze off into a fitful sleep centered on Allan, a shiv, and failure.