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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[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.

The burning got worse, so hot I thought my whole body would ignite and burst into flames. Closing my eyes again I let my head roll lazily to the side. Just as soon as I thought the image was gone there it was again.

Running over the grass, I could feel it so slippery under my feet. Something was chasing me, something that couldn't see but was guided by something so large I couldn't even begin to understand it. Not just me either, there were so many other girls running. Running towards something....I just couldn't tell what it was.

My eyes drifted closed and I let myself fall into the darkness. Because in the dark there's no bright painful fire.

[_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.

Bandaging up the wound gently, I glance around at the mess. I'll have to clean that up later. I wipe the blood of my hands, wincing as a sharp pain shoot through my wrist again. It's swelling, wonderful. I'll put some ice on it later, right now I have to take care of Faith. And being passed out on the sofa can't be very comfortable.

Picking her up, I carry her over to my bedroom and lower onto my bed. I pull of her boots and that quite ruined prison outfit, including that torn up tank top. I pull the covers over her while I walk back to the bathroom. Getting a wash cloth and a bowl with warm water I sit back down next to her, washing away the blood. Grabbing a shirt out of my closet I ease her into it and then pull the covers up again.

I should burn those clothes, just to there wont be any evidence left around. Picking them up I walk into the kitchen and toss them in the trashcan. From the fridge I grab an ice pack, hissing when it connect with my skin. Once back in the bedroom I sink into the chair and just look at her, making sure she's alright. It would seem I'm a watcher after all. How ironic again.

[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.

Forcing my eyes open wider, suddenly I could feel everything. Including the burning sensation that was still smarting on my side. Everything came rushing back to me. Wes showin' up to visit, those weird guys in robes tryin' their damndest to stab me to death, bustin' on out of there.

My fingers trailed under the covers and I realized I wasn't wearing my usual prison jumpsuit, but just a plain button down mens shirt. My fingertips trailed lightly over the jagged cut on my side, crude stitches holding my skin in place. I hissed as I pulled my fingers away and at that moment looked up and saw Wesley looking at me with an unreadable expression on his face. An ice pack was pressed to his wrist and he was just....sitting there, watching me. Guessed old habits died hard, huh? How long had he been sittin' there?

I had to bite back a sarcastic remark as I looked at him.

"Glad you could make it for untimely release." I finally said dryly. What can I say? It was my version of a thank you.

[_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.

Making tea calmed me down some. Once Faith was awake, and well enough, we were going to have to figure out who those sods were and why they were after Faith. Tea cup in hand, I grabbed some books, wincing at the sharp pain in my wrist. I put them on the table, grabbed another ice pack and went back to watch Faith.

She was sleep rather restlessly, but not trashing or doing anything else that would reopen the wound. When she finally woke up, I waited for her to get her orientation back. Tilting my head, I give her a crooked smile. "Yes, I really would've hated to miss out on that one. I seem to have very good timing." Pure rotten luck if you ask me. For Faith then. "I've left you some painkillers if you want," I say, nodding toward the nightstand.

Tossing aside the ice-pack. I lean my elbows on my knees and give her scrutinizing look, mainly to hide my worry. Who was after her and why? It has nothing to do with the fact that she's Faith, but everything with the fact that she's a vampire Slayer, I'm sure.

[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.

Taking two of the pills out of the bottle, I swallowed them down quick, washing it down with the a swig of the water that had been on the nightstand next to the pills.

Settling back down into the bed again I looked Wesley over. He was holding an ice pack to his wrist, and I remembered falling out of a three story window. Easy for me, not so much for a regular joe.

"You okay?"

[_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.

I can see her watching me wearily. She probably doesn't trust me. Not after what Angel told her, I suppose. Not that I blame her. It is rather a very high coincidence that I'm there just when those creatures are out to get her. Pure rotten luck as I said before, or had they planned it that way? I had felt watched for the last week or so, but I never saw anyone of course. I'm not sure what to think of all that.

"I'm fine," I assure her, glancing down at my wrist. Looking back up I give her a wry smile again. "I'm a bit out of practice when it comes to breaking Slayers out of jail and dropping out of three story windows." Shrugging, I put the ice pack down on the floor and frown. "We need to figure out who and what is after you, Faith. And why...obviously." Time to do some research. "Are you up to that? Or do you wish to rest some more, you've lost a lot of blood."

[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.

It occured to me that he must have been lonely. Life as a watcher didn't pan out, life as an investigator didn't pan out. What did Wes have left? Seemed like no matter what happened we'd be left with eachother. Life was a serious bitch that way.

"Blood. Right." I muttered. Who needed that stuff anyway? Wondered how is couch was, I was pretty sure that's where I'd passed out the night before.

"They wouldn't...I mean, whatever they were. They wouldn't show up here would they? They wouldn't know where I was." It was a statement, but it was really a question. My non-wussying out way of saying that I wasn't ready to move from where I was right at that moment. The painkillers were moving slowly and I thought I could just fade right back out again any minute.

Frowning, I wondered if I fell back to sleep whether I'd have that same nightmare again or not.

[_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.

Her question makes me frown. Would they come here? Personally I wouldn't be surprised. It's not that hard to track down a Slayer who's in jail. But you need to know she's a Slayer first. And where did they get that information? Not many people know of her Slayer existence, at least not people who'd want to see her dead. The council comes to mind, but why would they wait so long?

Sitting up a little straighter, I sigh. She looks tired and the medication is starting to work. "They might," I tell her honestly. "But they'd need to find us first. And with the wards on this place, that's going to take them a while." I put them up when I did the de-invitation spell for Angel. I'm not taking any chances on him returning to finish the job.

I'm about to suggest that she rest for a while longer, build up her strength, while I go and do a bit of research. I'd leave the door open so she could call if she needed anything, that's not really a bother. But she's wearing that frown again. "If that frown is anything to go by, you seem to be worried about something else as well?" It's a question, since I can't assume she'd actually tell me. We're not exactly best friends are we?

[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.

I sighed when he gave me that look. That 'I know it's not nothing' look that I was used to gettin' from Angel when he came to visit. So he wasn't buying that one for a second. I just wasn't used to him yet. This whole makeover he had going on now. The clothes, the scruffy face, the lack of glasses, and mostly the lack of a stick jammed straight up his ass. I wasn't sure what to think of him yet.

Sure, Angel had nothin' good to say about him these days. My loyalty was almost always to Angel first and foremost. In fact, I was fighting the urge to pick up the phone and call him right now. Tell him where I was, and to come pick me up and I knew he'd be here in a heartbeat. Or well, a lack of heartbeat since he's a vampire if you wanna get all technical.

But I didn't reach for the phone. I stayed where I was and that had a lot less to do with the fact that I still had a stab wound on my side and more to do with the fact that I felt compelled to give Wes a chance. Just a chance. Because we'd never done that before and what the hell, I was always up for something new and interesting.

"I've been having dreams." I finally said. "I don't know what they mean or really anything about them. Just that they're not normal dreams...but I think they might have something to do with those guys that attacked me."

[_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.

However, when she finally make he decision, and the next word out of her mouth wasn't Angel, I couldn't help but raise a surprise eyebrow. She's not running back to Angel? Instead she sitting there as though she's making a confession? I'm quite...stunned.

Her words turned me right back into a serious mood again though. Dreams? She's been having dreams, and from what I understand reoccurring dreams. And was she anyone else but Faith the vampire Slayer, I would've thought nothing of it. But she wasn't, and therefor those dreams were anything but normal.

Getting up, I start to pace through the room for a moment. "You're probably right," I say after a moment. Turning around I give her another thoughtful look. "What are they about?" Carefully I lower myself to sit on the foot of the bed, watching her reaction carefully. "Would you mind if I checked your wound?" I point at her side. "Just to make sure it's still fine." Just want to make certain her restless sleep didn't do any damage.

[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.

Meeting his gaze for a second, I pulled the blanket down and the shirt up so the jagged wound came into view. That was gonna leave a nice fat scar. Pretty. Now I matched. The other scar on my abdomen danced like a pale ghost as I moved. At least this time I didn't end up in a coma. Thanks to Wes anyways.

He looked at me as he inched forward before letting his fingertips brush over my skin softly, over the stitches. I put my head back down on the pillow, trying really fucking hard not to be self-conscious about the whole thing. I hated feeling like that. But sometimes I just couldn't help it.

"It starts off kinda the same every time. I'm running from something....and I look around and there's other people running too. Other girls, and Buffy. And we're all running from the same thing. I don't even know what it is, how it's connected. I just know that it won't stop coming until we're all dead." I talked quickly as he checked over the wound, hoping to distract myself.

[_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.

Silently I listen to her tale about what she dreams. Girls, running. And her and Buffy. Something is after them until they're all dead. It's a though there's a small light switch going on inside my head. Could it be? I'd have to look that up first before telling her my suspicions. I don't want to alarm her.

Wait, this is Faith. She's pretty hard to alarm.

I gently lower the shirt over her again while I gather my thoughts. Pulling up the covers I look at her thoughtfully again. "I have this theory," I start, getting up slowly again, pacing the room. "I'd have to look some things up, but from what you tell me and from what happened in jail, I'd say someone or something is after the Slayers. Active or not." Turning around I tilt my head at her. "Starting with you, since you're the active Slayer." I wonder if Buffy has the same dreams. Wouldn't surprise me.

And it dawns on me that it'll only be a matter of time before they find her here. If what I'm thinking is right, it'll be a very short time. But why now? Why is this happening now?

[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.

"What theory Wes?" I finally asked impatiently, cause keepin' me hangin' wasn't exactly my favorite sport ever. These research types liked to hammer out all the details before they told the rest of us what the what was. I remembered that much. Not this time. This time I wanted a heads up. Especially if any of it featured me gettin' stabbed again. Cause let me tell you how much I didn't want to repeat that experience, ever again.

"What is it? Who are those guys?" He was the watcher. He should know. Not that he'd been a watcher for a very long time. Not that I'd been a slayer for a very long time.

[_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.

"Hmmm?" Blinking at her, I shake my head and sink back down on the chair. "It's more a legend really, a myth from a long time ago." Raising my eyebrow at the expression on her face, a rather odd mixture between bored and anxious I can feel my mouth twitch again. Good lord, that was almost a smile, better be careful here. I might accidentally amuse myself.

"There is this story about something called 'the first evil.' And if he were to take on the world it's main goal would be to take out it's main enemies. The ones who had a chance of beating him. I'm not entirely certain about the details, I've not been a watcher for long. But Slayers, and by default their watchers, were a high priority on his list I believe." We should probably call Giles, he would know more, being nose deep into The Council of Wankers.

[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.

Not that I did much better with slayer powers. Bet Buffy wouldn't have let herself get stabbed, I couldn't help but think. Although in my defense, wasn't exactly plannin' on ever getting attacked by demons inside of prison. Berthas and guards sure. But demons? Although if I'd learned one thing in the last few hours, it was that things never ever stayed the same. Unexpected shit happened, you just gotta roll with the punches.

[_wes_pryce_]

"Potential Slayers, yes," I nod at her, tipping the tips of my fingers against my chin thoughtfully. "I wonder hwo they're tracking them down. I know the council has some sort of sacred and mostly secret ritual," I snort. "It could be that they're after the council as well then. Either way, the potentials aren't safe then either." Or their watcher and most likely anyone around them. Such as Buffy's friends in her case.

Take out the girls mentor, the one she trusts and said girl is easy pray. "If they do have this...ritual, or if they can sense you or your Slayer essence in any way, it's only a matter of time before they get here." That does not bode or sit well. I wonder if I can protect her long enough until she's fully healed again.

"But again," I shrug, "it's just a theory. We could be dealing with something else entirely. But since everything seems to fit I doubt it though." But I've been wrong before haven't I? Several times. The Shanshu prophecy, the one about Connor and Angel. I'm not taking any chances, prophecies and theories aren't gospel.

Sighing, I get up again, picking up the ice pack and the tea cup. "I'll leave you to rest a bit more then. Call me if you need anything, I'll go and look through some books in the meantime." Pointing over my shoulder with the ice pack, I wince as my wrists shoot up a sharp pain at that movement. "I'll be just outside." Hovering a bit, I make sure she's allright before turning toward the door.