Teaching Buffy to fire a gun had been one thing, teaching a group of teenage girls who'd probably rather spend their time reading a couple of magazines and talking about boys--though he had this misfortune of hearing a couple of them discuss the cuteness of him and Dean--was a completely different story. He tagged Bobby for a break, making his way around to the front of the farmhouse as he tucked his gun in the back waistband of his jeans
( ... )
"Sam." She'd heard the story, as much as she'd get, anyway, from Dawn.
Sam. Back from the dead like his beloved B. Didn't look different or anything, which made Faith wonder what she'd expected, exactly. A sign? One that said he'd recently died and been resurrected and wasn't going to relish hearing how a bunch of girls had died on her watch.
You okay?
"Five by five," she lied shakily, letting him take the bag from her.
Hell, where'd she start?
Red? The ambush? The zombies that'd seemed to come from fucking nowhere?
What the hell happened?
"Dunno," she murmured, and this was not a lie, because she honestly didn't. She hadn't even seen where they'd come from but one minute Vi had screamed and something fucking wet had hit her face and the next there were fucking zombies. Everywhere
( ... )
He knew that was Faith's way of saying she was okay, but even he knew that right now, that was nothing more than a lie. She was far from okay from the looks of it, but he would let her live in that lie if it made her feel better.
They were fucking everywhere, Sam.
He didn't need her to clarify who they were, and honesty, she didn't need to finish her story because he knew from that point on where the story was gonna go, how everything was gonna end.
Nasty, bloody, and went a bunch of girls and Buffy's best friend dead.
I couldn't do anything."Damn." He rubbed a hand across his face, trying to imagine how the others would respond to the news. This situation wasn't exactly a morale booster, and if there was one thing they all needed, it was the hope that maybe they could win this thing
( ... )
Faith's gaze snapped up to his. "Doesn't really make me feel better, Dead Boy." Because her 'everything she could' had included fighting off the zombie that had its teeth latched onto her arm and by the time she'd done that?
The rest had been dead. She'd been unprepared; figured they'd been safe in a Magic Shop where Red was looking up spells. And she'd survived. Only just.
You want help to the house or are you gonna punch me if I try?"I can walk," said Faith deadpan, clutching the shotgun that little bit tighter. She'd known he was gonna try and help - it was in the guy's nature to do so and Faith figured she didn't paint the prettiest of pictures. "B in there
( ... )
Sam raised an eyebrow at the Dead Boy nickname, hoping that Faith wouldn't use it around Xander cause that was one that was sure to stick unfortunately. "Please don't call me that around Xander," he requested.
I can walk.
She shouldered off his help as politely as a girl like Faith could, and he took no offense. Hell, he would have been shocked if she had taken him up on his offer for help.
She asked about Buffy, and before he could even think of answering her question, she blurted out Willow's death. "I figured as much," he frowned, knowing that Faith didn't want to break the news to the others as much as he did. "When she didn't..." he nodded towards the truck. "When she didn't come back with you."
"I won't. Sorry." Faith murmured. It wasn't his fault. Hell, none of this was. She was just riding the guy 'cause he happened to be the first one on the scene
( ... )
Sam blinked at her caue that was just wishful thinking. "Honestly, if she sees you by yourself.... I mean, there's only one place this story can go. I'm just sorry it has to go there."
She seemed to think on that for a second before a small frown crossed her lips, a look of defeat.
Let's go.
He held out a hand to stop her momentarily, his hand grazing her shoulder, fingers finding sticky blood on fabric. "You sure you're okay?"
Sam was right. She didn't want him to be, was just as sorry too - but he was right. B was gonna take one look at her and just know.
They'd been twelve when they'd left earlier; convinced they'd be back home and fighting over the few magazines that were left.
Faith had actually called a time-out in the truck, telling Vi that she'd come back there and end her if she touched Ellen's shotgun just one more time... The full time, she'd been wondering if this was what it'd been like for Buffy and Dawn, only--Well, over something more normal like clothes or whatever.
She nodded, starting towards the house when Sam's hand grazed her shoulder. You sure you're okay?
Faith looked back at him, then down at his hand at her shoulder, her mouth setting in a grim, determined line. "You really want me to answer that, Winchester? Or you want me to lie?"
You really want me to answer that, Winchester? Or you want me to lie?
Sam frowned, his hand dropping away from her shoulder in response. He'd learned long ago that dealing with Faith was like dealing with his brother. They both kept crap bottled up, hid true emotions that didn't revolve around rage or ecstasy.
She wasn't okay. He knew, she knew it, and just like Dean, she didn't want to admit it aloud. She would rather let her actions speak for her, but for once, Sam wanted to hear it with his own ears.
He was tired of people, himself included, living in lies.
Faith laughed but it was short, humorless. She was taking her life into her own hands here because as easily as Sam was standing beside her; once she did this, he could just as easily pull a gun on her - and Faith wasn't honestly sure she'd stop him.
"No lies," she nodded, and turned so that her back was to the farmhouse, setting down the shotgun for a second before pulling up her sleeve and the makeshift bandage she'd covered her arm with.
The bite looked red, angry. The cool night air did nothing to soothe the itch and when Sam's eyes widened, Faith nodded. "By the time I fought it off, they were all dead. Red, Vi, everyone. I figured I owed it to B to let her know what happened. Once I'm done? I'm gone," she shrugged, pulling her sleeve back down and taking the shotgun back in her hand again, "Got one bullet left. And nobody else gets to know, Sam. I mean it," she looked up at him, her jaw set.
He wasn't sure what was going on when Faith put down the rifle, but then she rolled up her sleeve, exposing a makeshift bandage that had obviously been wrapped on in a hurry.
And then she lifted the bandage.
Sam felt his heart hit his stomach as he slowly wiped a hand across his mouth. He knew she hadn't been okay, but this.... But this had never even factored into his plans.
He shook his head slowly, tryin to find words. "Faith...."
She cut him off with an explanation, and every gut instinct, every piece of hunter in him wanted to reach for his gun. But he coudln't. Not with Faith. He couldn't put a bullet in her, but it didn't matter because Faith already had a plan apparently.
Got one bullet left. And nobody else gets to know, Sam. I mean it.
"Faith, there has to be another...." he paused with a determined shake of his head. "We'll find a cure for this."
She cut him off. Had to. Because the look on Sam's face, everything in him, said that he'd try to make this okay. And this time, there wasn't a fix-all. There wasn't intervention from a vampire and her going to jail for a few months to make this okay again.
This was over. As soon as she'd seen B, grabbed herself a bottle of Jacks and hotfooted it out of there, this was over. Done. Ended.
Faith, there has to be another... We'll find a cure for this."A cure?" Faith snorted, softly. "Sam, c'mon. This is it for me. You really want to chain me up until I'm snappin' and fucking snarling like some dog at anyone who comes near me? You really think I wanna go out like that
( ... )
He knew she had a point. They weren't likely to find a cure before she turned, and once she did? A zombie with Slayer strength wasn't exactly something he wanted to test out.
He wished there was another way, any other way that didn't involve Faith tasting the metal of Ellen's shotgun. She didn't want to go out like a rabid dog, and he didn't want her to go out that way. He bit his tongue to keep from telling her that because it would do no good.
She'd probably just roll her eyes at him, make some snarky remark about him and Buffy having a "saving people" thing, and that would be it. The story would still end the same.
With Faith alone in a truck, her own death a bullet away.
You tell me you understand that and we walk in there like I'm fine, you hear?"I don't like this at all," he finally said with a frown, "but I understand
( ... )
"I don't like this either, Winchester, but it's all I got," said Faith, relieved he hadn't given her the speech. About how she deserved to be saved. About how she'd done enough, pushed the books back into the black...
She didn't deserve to go out like this. She didn't damn well want to go out like this but she'd be damned if she let some zombie make her its brain-eating, slobbering bitch. Fuck no.
Well, at least I got risen from the dead in time to see you again.
The corners of Faith's lips tugged upwards. "They say timing is everything, Dead Boy. Don't suppose your brother is around too? I wouldn't mind revisiting that before I bite the big one..." said Faith, smirking at his pained look. "Now that boy had some moves..."
The sound of a door slamming round the back of the house had Faith remembering what she was about to do here and she nodded at Sam. "C'mon. I don't got a lot of time left."
Sam made a disgruntled face as Faith brought up Dean, trying to ignore the visuals that were unfortunately creeping into his head. He shook off those unplesant thoughts as the sound of the backdoor swinging shut brought them both back to their unfortunate reality.
C'mon. I don't got a lot of time left.
He didn't argue as she slowly started towards the house, and Sam could see her grip on her shotgun tightening with each step. As they finally reached the steps, he stopped her with another touch to her shoulder and when she turned to him, he couldn't fight the frown on his lips.
"Hey," he said quietly as not to alert the others just yet. "I don't want you leaving here feeling guilty, okay? Promise me you won't cause I know that you did everything that you could. Don't blame yourself for anything. You gotta promise me that, okay
( ... )
The walk towards the house was damn slow and agonizing. It wasn't that Faith didn't want to go in - she had to do this. It was wondering what she'd say when she got there. Knowing that B was expecting her to show up with eleven girls... And not showing up with one that was the kicker.
Her grip tight on the shotgun, Faith got to the foot of the stairs and felt Sam's hand at her shoulder.
I don't want you leaving here feeling guilty, okay? Promise me you won't cause I know that you did everything that you could. Don't blame yourself for anything. You gotta promise me that, okay?
Faith thought about that for a second, nodded. "I promise." Because other than kill all those who'd killed her allies - her friends - what more could she have done? Water under the bridge now, she figured.
And then he came out with about the best eulogy Faith could ever hope for and she stared at him, strangely touched by a guy she'd only met a handful of times; a guy she'd found ever-so-slightly annoying at his most sickeningly sweet with B.
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Sam. Back from the dead like his beloved B. Didn't look different or anything, which made Faith wonder what she'd expected, exactly. A sign? One that said he'd recently died and been resurrected and wasn't going to relish hearing how a bunch of girls had died on her watch.
You okay?
"Five by five," she lied shakily, letting him take the bag from her.
Hell, where'd she start?
Red? The ambush? The zombies that'd seemed to come from fucking nowhere?
What the hell happened?
"Dunno," she murmured, and this was not a lie, because she honestly didn't. She hadn't even seen where they'd come from but one minute Vi had screamed and something fucking wet had hit her face and the next there were fucking zombies. Everywhere ( ... )
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He knew that was Faith's way of saying she was okay, but even he knew that right now, that was nothing more than a lie. She was far from okay from the looks of it, but he would let her live in that lie if it made her feel better.
They were fucking everywhere, Sam.
He didn't need her to clarify who they were, and honesty, she didn't need to finish her story because he knew from that point on where the story was gonna go, how everything was gonna end.
Nasty, bloody, and went a bunch of girls and Buffy's best friend dead.
I couldn't do anything."Damn." He rubbed a hand across his face, trying to imagine how the others would respond to the news. This situation wasn't exactly a morale booster, and if there was one thing they all needed, it was the hope that maybe they could win this thing ( ... )
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Faith's gaze snapped up to his. "Doesn't really make me feel better, Dead Boy." Because her 'everything she could' had included fighting off the zombie that had its teeth latched onto her arm and by the time she'd done that?
The rest had been dead. She'd been unprepared; figured they'd been safe in a Magic Shop where Red was looking up spells. And she'd survived. Only just.
You want help to the house or are you gonna punch me if I try?"I can walk," said Faith deadpan, clutching the shotgun that little bit tighter. She'd known he was gonna try and help - it was in the guy's nature to do so and Faith figured she didn't paint the prettiest of pictures. "B in there ( ... )
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I can walk.
She shouldered off his help as politely as a girl like Faith could, and he took no offense. Hell, he would have been shocked if she had taken him up on his offer for help.
She asked about Buffy, and before he could even think of answering her question, she blurted out Willow's death. "I figured as much," he frowned, knowing that Faith didn't want to break the news to the others as much as he did. "When she didn't..." he nodded towards the truck. "When she didn't come back with you."
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Sam blinked at her caue that was just wishful thinking. "Honestly, if she sees you by yourself.... I mean, there's only one place this story can go. I'm just sorry it has to go there."
She seemed to think on that for a second before a small frown crossed her lips, a look of defeat.
Let's go.
He held out a hand to stop her momentarily, his hand grazing her shoulder, fingers finding sticky blood on fabric. "You sure you're okay?"
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Sam was right. She didn't want him to be, was just as sorry too - but he was right. B was gonna take one look at her and just know.
They'd been twelve when they'd left earlier; convinced they'd be back home and fighting over the few magazines that were left.
Faith had actually called a time-out in the truck, telling Vi that she'd come back there and end her if she touched Ellen's shotgun just one more time... The full time, she'd been wondering if this was what it'd been like for Buffy and Dawn, only--Well, over something more normal like clothes or whatever.
She nodded, starting towards the house when Sam's hand grazed her shoulder. You sure you're okay?
Faith looked back at him, then down at his hand at her shoulder, her mouth setting in a grim, determined line. "You really want me to answer that, Winchester? Or you want me to lie?"
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Sam frowned, his hand dropping away from her shoulder in response. He'd learned long ago that dealing with Faith was like dealing with his brother. They both kept crap bottled up, hid true emotions that didn't revolve around rage or ecstasy.
She wasn't okay. He knew, she knew it, and just like Dean, she didn't want to admit it aloud. She would rather let her actions speak for her, but for once, Sam wanted to hear it with his own ears.
He was tired of people, himself included, living in lies.
"No lies, Faith," he finally said.
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Faith laughed but it was short, humorless. She was taking her life into her own hands here because as easily as Sam was standing beside her; once she did this, he could just as easily pull a gun on her - and Faith wasn't honestly sure she'd stop him.
"No lies," she nodded, and turned so that her back was to the farmhouse, setting down the shotgun for a second before pulling up her sleeve and the makeshift bandage she'd covered her arm with.
The bite looked red, angry. The cool night air did nothing to soothe the itch and when Sam's eyes widened, Faith nodded. "By the time I fought it off, they were all dead. Red, Vi, everyone. I figured I owed it to B to let her know what happened. Once I'm done? I'm gone," she shrugged, pulling her sleeve back down and taking the shotgun back in her hand again, "Got one bullet left. And nobody else gets to know, Sam. I mean it," she looked up at him, her jaw set.
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And then she lifted the bandage.
Sam felt his heart hit his stomach as he slowly wiped a hand across his mouth. He knew she hadn't been okay, but this.... But this had never even factored into his plans.
He shook his head slowly, tryin to find words. "Faith...."
She cut him off with an explanation, and every gut instinct, every piece of hunter in him wanted to reach for his gun. But he coudln't. Not with Faith. He couldn't put a bullet in her, but it didn't matter because Faith already had a plan apparently.
Got one bullet left. And nobody else gets to know, Sam. I mean it.
"Faith, there has to be another...." he paused with a determined shake of his head. "We'll find a cure for this."
He just had to hope she lived until then....
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She cut him off. Had to. Because the look on Sam's face, everything in him, said that he'd try to make this okay. And this time, there wasn't a fix-all. There wasn't intervention from a vampire and her going to jail for a few months to make this okay again.
This was over. As soon as she'd seen B, grabbed herself a bottle of Jacks and hotfooted it out of there, this was over. Done. Ended.
Faith, there has to be another... We'll find a cure for this."A cure?" Faith snorted, softly. "Sam, c'mon. This is it for me. You really want to chain me up until I'm snappin' and fucking snarling like some dog at anyone who comes near me? You really think I wanna go out like that ( ... )
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He knew she had a point. They weren't likely to find a cure before she turned, and once she did? A zombie with Slayer strength wasn't exactly something he wanted to test out.
He wished there was another way, any other way that didn't involve Faith tasting the metal of Ellen's shotgun. She didn't want to go out like a rabid dog, and he didn't want her to go out that way. He bit his tongue to keep from telling her that because it would do no good.
She'd probably just roll her eyes at him, make some snarky remark about him and Buffy having a "saving people" thing, and that would be it. The story would still end the same.
With Faith alone in a truck, her own death a bullet away.
You tell me you understand that and we walk in there like I'm fine, you hear?"I don't like this at all," he finally said with a frown, "but I understand ( ... )
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"I don't like this either, Winchester, but it's all I got," said Faith, relieved he hadn't given her the speech. About how she deserved to be saved. About how she'd done enough, pushed the books back into the black...
She didn't deserve to go out like this. She didn't damn well want to go out like this but she'd be damned if she let some zombie make her its brain-eating, slobbering bitch. Fuck no.
Well, at least I got risen from the dead in time to see you again.
The corners of Faith's lips tugged upwards. "They say timing is everything, Dead Boy. Don't suppose your brother is around too? I wouldn't mind revisiting that before I bite the big one..." said Faith, smirking at his pained look. "Now that boy had some moves..."
The sound of a door slamming round the back of the house had Faith remembering what she was about to do here and she nodded at Sam. "C'mon. I don't got a lot of time left."
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C'mon. I don't got a lot of time left.
He didn't argue as she slowly started towards the house, and Sam could see her grip on her shotgun tightening with each step. As they finally reached the steps, he stopped her with another touch to her shoulder and when she turned to him, he couldn't fight the frown on his lips.
"Hey," he said quietly as not to alert the others just yet. "I don't want you leaving here feeling guilty, okay? Promise me you won't cause I know that you did everything that you could. Don't blame yourself for anything. You gotta promise me that, okay ( ... )
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Her grip tight on the shotgun, Faith got to the foot of the stairs and felt Sam's hand at her shoulder.
I don't want you leaving here feeling guilty, okay? Promise me you won't cause I know that you did everything that you could. Don't blame yourself for anything. You gotta promise me that, okay?
Faith thought about that for a second, nodded. "I promise." Because other than kill all those who'd killed her allies - her friends - what more could she have done? Water under the bridge now, she figured.
And then he came out with about the best eulogy Faith could ever hope for and she stared at him, strangely touched by a guy she'd only met a handful of times; a guy she'd found ever-so-slightly annoying at his most sickeningly sweet with B.
I'd hug ( ... )
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