FIC: "Left Behind." Buffy ficlet--post "The Gift"
I was thinking about some of the Buffy fic I've written and never posted, and decided to start posting it--much of it's unfinished, at least for what it was supposed to be, but a lot of it stands alone quite nicely.
****
Title: Left Behind.
Summary: Faith, after "The Gift."
Rating: PG
The night you died, I woke up from dreams of you. Some of them were like the old ones-you killing the mayor, killing me. Others were new, things I’d never seen. You and your sister. You and Giles. Your sister tortured by a woman with bright red lipstick.
I woke up knowing something was wrong. The world felt…off. And then something I’d never felt before tore through me. It felt like being Called. It felt like being killed.
And I knew.
*
It was three days before the next visitors' day. I thought they’d send Cordelia, but it was Wes who was waiting for me when they brought me in. He stood behind the glass, his whole posture stiff with.... It took me a moment to identify the emotion. I had expected anger. Fear. I had tortured this man once. All I saw was grief. And defeat.
Before he could say anything, I picked up the handset and said, “I thought they’d send Cordelia.”
Wesley blinked a little, then shook his head.
“She’s with Angel,” he said. “We didn’t want to leave him alone.”
I nodded. “How is he coping?”
“About as well as can be expected, given the circumstances,” Wes said. He paused, looking at me with his head cocked to one side. “How did you know, Faith?”
“I’m the Slayer, Wes. Of course I knew.”
*
Did he really think I wouldn’t have known? That I wouldn’t have felt the world ripping apart as you fell through the cracks?
Maybe it is because I’m the Slayer. All the power of all those girls before me-except you-belongs to me now.
Except now I’m the one left behind, and what good can I do the world?
They took the wrong one, B.
*
****
Title: Left Behind.
Summary: Faith, after "The Gift."
Rating: PG
The night you died, I woke up from dreams of you. Some of them were like the old ones-you killing the mayor, killing me. Others were new, things I’d never seen. You and your sister. You and Giles. Your sister tortured by a woman with bright red lipstick.
I woke up knowing something was wrong. The world felt…off. And then something I’d never felt before tore through me. It felt like being Called. It felt like being killed.
And I knew.
*
It was three days before the next visitors' day. I thought they’d send Cordelia, but it was Wes who was waiting for me when they brought me in. He stood behind the glass, his whole posture stiff with.... It took me a moment to identify the emotion. I had expected anger. Fear. I had tortured this man once. All I saw was grief. And defeat.
Before he could say anything, I picked up the handset and said, “I thought they’d send Cordelia.”
Wesley blinked a little, then shook his head.
“She’s with Angel,” he said. “We didn’t want to leave him alone.”
I nodded. “How is he coping?”
“About as well as can be expected, given the circumstances,” Wes said. He paused, looking at me with his head cocked to one side. “How did you know, Faith?”
“I’m the Slayer, Wes. Of course I knew.”
*
Did he really think I wouldn’t have known? That I wouldn’t have felt the world ripping apart as you fell through the cracks?
Maybe it is because I’m the Slayer. All the power of all those girls before me-except you-belongs to me now.
Except now I’m the one left behind, and what good can I do the world?
They took the wrong one, B.
*