Learning Curve
by rebelrsr
Chapter Eleven
[reviews]
Disclaimer: All things Buffy belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and lots of people in expensive suits. I'm not making any money here, just trying to create a happier Buffyverse for my favorite characters.
Spoilers, etc.: I altered the timeline of "The Yoko Factor," "Primeval," and AtS "Sanctuary" with reckless abandon. It's mostly AU from here.
A/N: Character thoughts are enclosed by **. Flashbacks are enclosed by //. Thanks to Desirata41 and Zenithar for the beta and encouragement! Thanks to Zigpal for the continuing support and suggestions. I couldn't do it without you.
Archiving: By permission only.
"Hello, Faith," Joyce greeted the stunned Slayer. Faith didn't respond. "I thought I should talk with Tara. Can I come in?"
The brunette moved back, opening the door wider. She followed the eldest Summers into the small room. Mrs. Summers sat down at Tara's desk. Uncomfortable and trying not to show it, Faith sat on the bed, back resting against the headboard.
"It's good that you're here, too," Joyce began. She hesitated before continuing. "You know, we seem to have reversed positions." At Faith's look of confusion, she explained. "The last time we met, you were here, and I was on the bed."
"Oh." There really wasn't anything else the Slayer could say.
After waiting for more commentary — and not receiving it — the older woman sighed. "I wanted to thank you, and I need to apologize, too."
"Mrs. S...I mean, Mrs. Summers, you don't — "
"Be quiet, Faith." Joyce's voice was quiet, but effective. The Slayer lapsed into a brooding silence. "I don't know what happened to turn you against Buffy and her friends. Someday, maybe you'll tell me. But I do know that you took a huge risk coming to Willow the other night." Seeing the girl start to speak, Joyce raised an eyebrow and stared at Faith until she slumped back against the wall, lips pressed tightly together.
"You were right the night you took me hostage. Buffy and I had drifted apart. She moved out, and I got left behind. It didn't matter that we lived in the same town; we might as well have been continents apart. It's hard to admit it, but I rarely know what goes on in Buffy's life. So I owe you a great deal for trying to warn us about her state of mind."
Faith glanced at Mrs. Summers, gauging her mood. Sensing the ban had been lifted, at least momentarily, she said quietly, "I knew what B was goin' through. Spend too long in your own head, wondering about the meaning of life — she was gonna either end up dead or taking a walk on the dark side. Couldn't let that happen. I knew Red and the gang would be able to help her out."
"They're trying." Joyce was silent for a minute. "Faith, this may not be the right time...I owe you an apology for how I treated you when you first came to Sunnydale."
"What? Mrs. S, you were great. I mean, you invited me over for dinner. Hell, you and B even let me be a part of your Christmas that one year."
"But I didn't understand things then." Joyce could tell Faith didn't get the point. "That was a really bad year for the Summers family. Buffy had just gotten back after running away; I had just discovered the Slaying and wasn't handling it very well; and then you showed up." The older woman leaned forward, resting her head in her hands. "I don't know how I felt about you as a person. I only saw the Slayer. You were Buffy's chance to get out of the business. You were the answer to all of my prayers.
"When things went wrong between you and the Scoobies, I think I could have killed you," the blonde continued.
Faith was glad Joyce was holding her head and looking at the ground. She had known she would find no forgiveness for her recent actions, but Mrs. Summers' comment was devastating. Despite her best intentions, she couldn't hold the tears inside anymore.
Mrs. Summers ran shaky hands through her hair. "I talked with Willow late last night. She said something that made me reevaluate you and what you've done. Willow was convinced that, although Buffy is struggling with being the Slayer, she still is the Slayer. Buffy can't quit, no matter how much she wants to. I think you feel the same way." Joyce leaned back in the chair and looked at the brunette on the bed. Tears streamed steadily down the girl's cheeks as they stared at each other in silence.
"You weren't checking Buffy's mail that night in my room. You were using my credit card," Joyce said as she got up and moved slowly toward the bed. "So tell me, Faith. Why didn't you just get on that plane? How did you end up in the church with Buffy?"
The Slayer tried to answer, but couldn't find the words to explain. She simply shook her head and fought to regain control of her runaway emotions.
Joyce sat down next Faith. "I'm pretty sure I know why you didn't get on that plane. You couldn't, could you, Faith?" she said to the girl. "You heard about those vampires and the part of you that was still a Slayer wouldn't let you leave."
The brunette didn't answer. Joyce's relentless questioning had her on emotional overload. She closed her eyes, trying to block out the memories of her indiscretions. Arms wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her into a tight embrace and the last of her control vanished. Sobs tore through her, garbled apologies and explanations mingling with the sounds of grief. Her grief raged until lingering exhaustion and emotional upheaval dragged her into sleep.
Feeling the Slayer relax against her, Joyce used a shaking hand to wipe away her own tears. *Whatever it takes, Faith, I'll make sure you get the help you need. Just like you got help for Buffy.*
***
Willow glanced from her computer screen to the sleeping Slayer for the thousandth time that hour. Slayer Watching was far more entertaining than the failed algorithms that covered her laptop with melting gibberish. She'd been at this for over ten hours. Nothing worked. If she wasn't so worried about her friend facing Adam unprepared, even the talented hacker might have admitted breaking the encryption was impossible. But there was no way Willow was going to let Buffy go into battle unprepared. Sighing, she looked away from the resting blonde and prodded her tired mind into finding a new algorithm.
Another hour passed with no results. The redhead growled under her breath. *What was I thinking? Sure, Buffy, no problem. I'll just crack the encryption on a top secret project planned by a black-ops para-military operation. Have it all ready for you when you wake up*. Willow cursed her optimism and dreaded telling Buffy she didn't have the promised answers. Stretching out her back, she started to close the computer screen when something caught her eye. The shifting, random pattern of letters and symbols was gone. In their place was a crystal clear diagram of Adam. *I'm dreaming. I've got to be. How...* Clicking through the large document file, Willow realized this wasn't a dream. The files were really readable. Grinning madly, the hacker began to take notes.
***
"Will? Hey, um, Will? Come on, wake up."
Mumbling incoherently, the redhead ignored the insistent voice and tried to go back to sleep. Unfortunately, the voice kept insisting that she get up. She pried one eye open to glare at the source — Buffy. The Slayer had a quirk to her smile that guaranteed Willow was in for some ribbing.
"If I hadn't heard the snores, I might have thought you were dead." Yep. There it was — the teasing, lilting tone.
"How could you have heard anything," Willow fired back. "You've been asleep for," she checked the clock on the wall, "almost fourteen hours. Besides, I think I deserve a little nap. I told you I'd have answers; boy do I have answers." She waved her notebook at the bed-ridden blonde.
Buffy's smile widened. "I should probably tell you that I had no doubts, but you might think I was calling you reliable again."
The redhead giggled. "Afraid of meeting Vamp Me again, Slayer?" Willow cocked her head. "Too bad I didn't keep the outfit. I could've used it to get you to appreciate all my hard work."
"No way, Wills. I learned my lesson that time. No taking the Ultimate Scooby for granted. Not gonna happen again." Buffy's smile dimmed, and her voice was far more serious when she spoke next. "So, tell me what I have to do to beat Adam."
"We," Willow stressed, "have to find a hidden lab inside the Initiative. According to the maps on the disk, it's behind Room 314."
"OK. So we sneak through an underground military post past dozens of heavily armed soldiers and a load of captive demons — check. Then what? How do we beat the bad guy waiting for us?" Willow didn't like the downward swing in Buffy's emotions.
"Oops! Did I forget to mention Tara found this great spell?"
"Yeah, Will. You did. What spell?"
"Well, it's called an enjoining spell and it will turn you into Super Buffy so you can send Adam to the junkyard."
The blonde considered that for a moment. "In case you missed it, I'm not really up to par."
Willow frowned at her friend. "Hey, Buffy. Trust me, OK? The enjoining spell will take care of Adam, and, with the information on the disk, we know exactly where to look for the sicko."
The Slayer looked stubborn for a moment, but, finding a similar expression on Willow's face, gave up. "Right. You're right. So, Adam is toast. Got it." She peered at the rumpled-looking witch seated against the bed. "Where's mom and the rest of the Scoobies?"
The question had been casual, but everything changed when the Slayer saw Willow's reaction. First, she turned ghostly white. Then color flooded back into her face, turning it a shade of red just this side of purple. The girl's mouth opened and closed several times. No sound ever emerged.
"'Kay, Will. That was certainly interesting. You wanna tell me what's going on?"
"Not really," her friend mumbled.
"Maybe you'll recognize this...You know you can't keep a secret from me." Buffy relaxed slightly as the redhead laughed. "It can't be that bad. I mean, unless there's another Big Bad in town besides Adam."
"Well, that depends on whether you consider Faith to be a Big Bad," Willow replied.
"What?!" Buffy tried to sit up and gasped at the pain flaring along her spine. "Damn. Oh, damn that hurts." She lay back against the pillow and tried to breathe through the agony. "OK, Willow Rosenberg, you better tell me the whole story."
A/N: I promise, the relationships are coming...Just a little more patience, please.