It's been awhile...

[_wes_pryce_]

Being cast out isn't as great as people make it out to be. I don't feel like a rebel. Nor should I feel like one, I suppose. I feel guilty, my mistake destroyed a lot of lives. Even when I think I'm doing the right thing, I end up doing the wrong thing. And yes, I feel hurt. Hurt because my friends, my chosen family didn't even ask my side of the

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[_wes_pryce_]

Nearly running back from the bathroom where I retrieved the first aid kit, I make a stop by the liquor cabinet. Grabbing a bottle of whiskey, I resume my path back to the sofa. Faith looks rather out of it. Not good. Sucking in some air through my teeth, I kneel down next to her, depositing the box and the whiskey next to me. "Faith?" I ask softly, shaking her a little. Her eyes open, but their not very focused

[prodigal_slayer]

All I saw a giant blur in front of me, a voice muffled and far away. It was all so fuzzy. I felt something cool pressed into my hand and realized it was a bottle. Taking a long swallow, I could feel the amber liquid burning it's way down my throat and numbing some sensations. The burning in my side increased though, even as the bottle was taken out of my hand again. Or maybe I dropped it, I couldn't be sure which

[_wes_pryce_]

Faith passed out while I was stitching up the wound. Which is good I suppose. Cleaning it thoroughly with some peroxide, I sigh and look at her. Not good, not good at all. She's very lucky to be a Slayer. I can see her eyes moving fast, she's dreaming. Hopefully it's not a nightmare, but I doubt that very much

[wickedslayer]

I heard a ticking, like an itch in the back of my mind that wouldn't go away. Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock. I tried to lift my arm to swat it away but I felt sort of stuck in place. Everything was so groggy and bright. When my eyes opened it was only a sliver, and I could see ceiling. It was a nice ceiling, better than the one I was used to staring at, but I wanted to see more

[_wes_pryce_]

Faith was out or quite some time. I had gone to the kitchen, keeping the door open just in case she'd wake up, and made some tea. Grabbing a glass of water and some painkillers, still left over from my short hospital stay, I walked back to my bedroom and put them on the nightstand

[wickedslayer]

"Best timing ever." I agreed as my eyes drifted to the bottle he'd indicated on the nightstand. The bottle full of lovely pain medication. Yes, lovely. The pain in my side was stinging something fierce. Sure, I was a slayer. I was the wicked out of practice slayer who hadn't been stabbed in a really fucking long time. I was really hoping to never have that experience again.

Opening the bottle of pills, I looked at them skeptically before looking up at Wesley again. I guessed what it all boiled down to was...how much did I trust Wesley? Kind of fishy that he showed up for no apparent reason just in time for me to almost get stabbed to death.

I felt sort of guilty being suspicious of him, considering he'd been the one to stitch me up. In fact, if I wasn't mistaken I would say I was laying down in his bed. He'd cleaned me up, stitched me up. In short, made sure I didn't die

[_wes_pryce_]

My eyes follow her every move while I sit in my chair. I was lucky to still have the lighter version of those painkillers. I'd specifically asked for those. Not only were they cheaper, and that was useful when once insurance was canceled, they didn't tend to fog up ones mind as the heavier ones. And right now, I needed Faith to be without pain, but with her brain

[wickedslayer]

He was for real. We need to figure out what was after me? We need to figure out why? Since when did we ever become part of me and Wesley? There was no we, there him the crappy watcher and me, the psycho slayer. Just when a chick thinks she's got everything figured, she finds out she never knew anything at all

[_wes_pryce_]

Pursing my lips, I tap my fingers against them thoughtfully as I watch her. I can see a range of emotion going over her face, makes me wonder if she knows how easy she is to read sometimes. Make me wonder even more why I never saw that before. Probably has a lot to do with experience. Or lack there of in my case back in not so good old Sunnydale

[prodigal_slayer]

"It's nothing." I said quickly, repeating what I usually said when my cellmate had to wake me up in the middle of the night because I was screaming and clawing in my sleep. Nothing. Just a bad dream. Lots of people had 'em. Course not lots of people were the slayer. Scratch that, a slayer. A sick slayer, who was never very good at being one in the first place. Still- fucked up or not I never really got a 'get out of prophetic dreams free' pass

[_wes_pryce_]

Once again I could practically see her thinking. Going over her options. Should she run back to Angel or stay with the failure? It was quite intriguing to watch and I was convinced I knew the outcome of her thought-process. For her only Angel counted. Which was fine by me, he was the one who 'saved' her after all. Why should she trust me? The one who let her down so many times before. And by now, I'm getting quite used to everyone siding with Angel. No matter how much it stings, it's the way things are

[wickedslayer]

His weight on the bed, made the mattress shift and I cringed slightly. I could feel the threads of the stitches holding my skin in place and it was givin' me the wiggins serious

[_wes_pryce_]

I can feel her tensing under my touch as I check her wound. Doesn't worse. It's doesn't look good, but at least it's not gotten worse. It's still closed and I can see it's already starting to heal, thanks to Slayer healing. Lucky twit. I certainly could've used some of that in the past

[wickedslayer]

"Active slayer?" I snorted loudly as I looked up at him. He was making me nervous with all that pacing. Was he doing that on purpose? "I was on a twenty five to life sentance. Think that makes me the inactive slayer. For real." I got quiet again watching him pace some more.

I knew this was connected. I mean, I didn't know how I did. Sometimes I just knew things. I knew when Buffy died, even though no one had bothered to tell me. Hell, Angel didn't even tell me. I had to ask him about it when he showed up to visit me one day. That was how I really found out. I had to ask, but I already knew

[_wes_pryce_]

"You are the active Slayer," I point out. That was one of the main reasons the Council wanted to grab her way back when. Turn her into a good little Slayer. Or rather, they'd kill her and call another one who'd listen to what they dictated. Or so they thought. It doesn't work that way anymore. Those old sods should wake up and see that

[wickedslayer]

"The first evil?" I asked incredulously. "For real?" He nodded at me and I took a deep breath sinking down further into the mattress. I'd give up my left arm for a pack of smokes right about now. "That guy's gotta get a way better villain name, stat." I was making light of the situation, because well I didn't know what else to do. There was some big bad evil tryin' to kill off all the slayers...well that, only me and Buffy....

"Those other girls." I said suddenly. "They're not slayers. They're going to become slayers...er if I die. If I die, they become slayers." I said again, letting that idea really sink into my head. I mean I always knew that's how it'd work. But it just didn't seem fair. They were being hunted because they could be slayers. I was the slayer, I had slayer power. Strength, speed, killer flexibility and they had nothing. They were being hunted and they couldn't even fight back. Not really