Cold Comfort
The last few moments were still as amazing as it all had been, but I wasn't so lost that I couldn't feel something change. The tears on Faith's cheeks flowed too freely, and there was something she said that I couldn't make out, but there was nothing in the way it sounded that was right
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"Of course not," I snapped back. The moment the words were out, I regretted the sharp tone of them, wished I could bite them back. Unable to do that, I moved myself closer to Faith, placing a light kiss on her shoulder. It, well, it seemed something right to do.
"I don't regret it at all, Faith, not at all." I stammered. "There's-- there's something sort of... right? about it..."
I squeezed my eyes shut, praying indiscrimnately to whatever forces shaped the world that I'd somehow find a way to reach the girl. I'd failed her, let her down so many times, that I desperately needed to be able to help her.
When I asked her if she wanted me to leave, thinking that I'd pressed her too far, forced her to go where she didn't want, Faith's reaction was sudden and strident. She turned 'round to face me, and now was in the circle of my arms, her face an inch or two away from mine.
"WHAT? No. No, I don't, I... shit, Wes, don't you think I've changed? Even a little bit from that girl who used to be all 'want, take, have' with the people she fucked?"
My hand went to her face, alternately cupping her chin or brushing back the wild tangles of her dark hair.
"Good Lord, Faith, you've changed. Remarkably." I tried my best to say the things I thought she needed to hear, but the look in her eyes was growing almost frightened-- of what, I had no idea.
"It's a little strange, but I am rather proud of--"
Faith's hand slipped between us and circled my recovering cock, stroking it, trying to revive it back to hardness with almost frantic movements. I put a hand over hers and stopped her, pulling her hand away and gripping it in mine.
For all my talk and thought of truly understanding Faith and being understood by her, I suddenly realized how much I'd overestimated that situation. But I knew that I understood enough that I just might be able to help her. And if I could, maybe that could help me, as well.
"No, Faith, not now. I--"
God, what in the world could I say? There had to be something, some gesture, some first step in making all this work. Instinct moved me to pull Faith closer and wrap her more in my arms.
"I know it sounds 'lame', but... I'd very much like to just... sleep with you."
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"I don't regret it at all, Faith, not at all. There's-- there's something sort of... right? about it..."
Yeah, I could maybe see that point. Maybe. If I wasn't so fucked up and not deserving any of this sweet shit from him. My hand went to the place on my shoulder where he'd kissed me and I kept touching it, like... if my fingers touched it enough, it'd be real. And there, like, forever. One tiny fucking piece of kindness I didn't deserve but somehow got.
"Good Lord, Faith, you've changed. Remarkably."
Yeah, but into what? A reformed killer? It's all I would ever be - to anyone, to him... fuck, what did I care about Wes anyways?
"Doesn't really matter that I've fucking changed, I guess, when all I can think about is how I hurt you." I shut my eyes and my fingers were working hard on his cock cuz I needed something, anything, and kindness wasn't gonna do it. But he pulled my hand away, and I kept my eyes shut so I wouldn't see that sad fucking look he'd probably give me.
That one of pity.
"No, Faith, not now. I--I know it sounds 'lame', but... I'd very much like to just... sleep with you."
I let him hold me, but I didn't move an inch. "Can if you'd like, Wes," I whispered. "Don't know why you'd wanna, though."
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"Doesn't really matter that I've fucking changed, I guess, when all I can think about is how I hurt you."
It had taken nearly all my concentration to pull her hand away and make her stop, so it had taken a breath or two for my mind to clear enough to start considering her words. Again and again, every time that I imagined I had discovered some insight into Faith, I was caught by surprise. When I had assured myself days before that although I knew being Faith's Watcher would be a complicated proposition, I'd had no idea how truly complex it could prove.
We kept coming back to that same place-- a stolen apartment, Faith at her worst, myself at my weakest, and hours of torture. At least as much as the night we'd captured Angelus, that night years earlier had shaped us both. Hardened me. Broke her.
Dear God, what was this? What kept us both within each other's orbits, no matter the hurts we'd visited on each other.
"The scars are almost faded," I muttered, without realizing at first that I'd spoken. With her head so close, I couldn't be sure if she might have her eyes open, but I prayed she would. With eyes open, I knew, Faith would be able to see clearly the very faint pink lines on my chest.
Remnants of the first night.
"Almost faded," I repeated as I tightened my hold on her.
"Can if you'd like, Wes... Don't know why you'd wanna, though."
I pushed a few errant locks of hair back and tucked them behind her ear.
"Because I don't think that there's really any other place where I might truly belong... the same, I think, as you. I doubt we'd ever be able to be rid of each other, even if we wanted."
And as if just to prove that Faith didn't corner the market on defense mechanism humor, I raised an eyebrow.
"Besides... I'm an old man and you've completely exhausted me."
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I winced a bit at that. Great. So, what? Every fucking day when he wakes up and looks in the mirror, he gets to see it? Gets to be reminded of me and what I did, what I said? Cuz the torture hadn't been just physical.
Fuck, no. Course not. I'd gone for the heart.
Tortured him with my bod, writhing on his lap. Whispered into his ear about how I knew he'd be jerking off thinking of me back in high school. And now... now here I was in his arms and it was all fucked.
I couldn't figure it out, cuz... was it Wes getting his vengeance on me? Getting what he'd wanted back then finally... or just trying to hurt me the way I'd hurt him, all with the tears and shit?
His arms tightened, and I tensed up. What the hell was he doing?
"I don't think that there's really any other place where I might truly belong... the same, I think, as you. I doubt we'd ever be able to be rid of each other, even if we wanted."
"What, hurting each other? Fucking each other to get rid of all the pain?" I shook my head. "I don't want that, Wes. Don't think you do, either. You probably want some sweet girl, some damsel in distress. Me? I want it easy, no complications."
And, fuck, if Wes wasn't wicked complicated.
Maybe I should let him borrow my knife so he can cut into me... leave little scars on me. Maybe then, we'd be even.
"Besides... I'm an old man and you've completely exhausted me."
I laughed finally and opened my eyes. "Yeah, well, that's not so hard to do when you've got mad skills like me."
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Shaking my head, my voice came out as thoroughly 'bitter, but wiser' as I answered Faith.
"I tried that, Faith. Got together with a very nice, sweet girl who's life I saved, and thought it was nice, once the world I choose to live in became too much, it was over."
And what about the other sweet girl, I wondered to myself. I had spent so long dreaming, convinced that she had been what I wanted more than anything. What if I was wrong? What if she wasn't what I needed, no matter how idyllic the situation would be?
Or perhaps because of how idyllic it could be. Virginia had taught me that I would never have an easy time being with anyone, and my life had only become more complicated, more dangerous since then.
"As much as we'd like things to be simple, life simply doesn't have that in store for us. You know damn well that people like you and I don't live in an uncomplicated world."
I sighed. "And I don't want to hurt you, Faith. We've done more than enough to each other."
Finally, a glimmer of something shone on her face, in her expression. This wasn't over, not by a long, long shot, but for now, at least, the storm had passed. Faith laughed, and I responded in kind, just at hearing the sound.
Her eyes opened, a very familiar mischievous gleam in their brown depths.
"Yeah, well, that's not so hard to do when you've got mad skills like me."
"Can't argue that," I quipped back. "Though I'm vain enough to say that I don't think I did all that badly reciprocating."
We shifted around on the bed until we'd found a more mutually comfortable position to lay in. Stretching my free arm to its limit, I managed to retrieve the folder that lay on the nightstand and hold it up for Faith to see. The room service menu.
"Don't know about you, but I'm starving."
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Ain't that the truth. I'd tried the simple thing with Robin for awhile, and... it just didn't work. He needed more and I couldn't give more of me than I had. Shit, I think I'd given Wes more of me in the past fifteen minutes than I'd ever given to Robin.
"And I don't want to hurt you, Faith. We've done more than enough to each other."
True, but maybe I needed it. Maybe I needed some fucking pain from Wes to make it better. Some matching scars so we'd really be a nice, fucked up set. My hand began tracing all the marks on his chest that I'd left him and it shook a little.
Then he laughed a bit and I looked up at him.
"What?"
"I'm vain enough to say that I don't think I did all that badly reciprocating."
I rolled my eyes, trying to fucking let go of all the shit in me that was just pulling me down, trying to just put on my brave face again. "Whatever, Wes." But he grabbed our room service menu and held it in front of me to look at, so I propped myself up a bit.
Another time for that little conversation to continue, I suppose.
"Don't know about you, but I'm starving."
"I'm fucking starving, Boss. Order me up something hot, and I don't mean you."
And, we're back to that. We'll see how long it lasts...
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