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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[wickedslayer]

The doors clicked as the bars swung open, letting me walk through them. The guards hand was warm and heavy on my arm as she led me to the visitors area. Muffled voices and the sound of my boots on the linoleum were the only sounds as I stared straight ahead.

It was the rules. Stare straight ahead, don't say anything, keep your hands to yourself. That way no one thought you were gonna try anything and then it was less likely that you'd have someone jump your ass and pull a knife on you while you were sleeping. Not that that stopped the Berthas from fucking with me, but I was tryin'. That was worth something.

When I stepped up to the plate of glass I narrowed my eyes when I saw who was sitting on the other side. Shaking my head I sat down across from him and picked up the phone slowly.

"And just when I think the world can't get any more weird...." I said dryly, looking through the smudged glass at him.

[_wes_pryce_]

I look up rather surprised when Faith is being led into the room on the other side of the glass. She even picks up the phone and the first words out or her mouth are not what I expected at all. Not that I had any real idea what to expect. Faith has always been rather unpredictable

[prodigal_slayer]

"Yeah...right." I said with a slight snicker as he informed that he was just passin' by and thought he'd swing in for a tea party or whatever the fuck. After a minute I realized he wasn't laughing, but staring straight through the glass at me seriously. Well, well looked like you could put the boy in some brand spankin' new digs, get rid of the glasses and hold the razor but he was still the same as he'd always been. No sense of humor

[_wes_pryce_]

She found that one amusing. I'm so glad I can still make people laugh. Other then right in my face that is. Apparently I've lost all sense of humor myself. Which would hardly come as a surprise, there hasn't been much to laugh about lately has there? Other then when I'm drunk, and even then it has a rather hysterical edge to it.

I can see her eyes pausing when she notices the scar on my throat. Automatically I tilt my head a bit back. Seems I've developed that habit everytime people stare a it. Which is quite a lot I've found out. Narrowing my eyes I look at her, daring her to say something. Come on, Faith, ask. I know you're curious to find out.

"As I said," I start, shifting a bit in the chair. They rather uncomfortable, which is their purpose I suppose. "I just came by to see how you were doing." Since I've had nothing else to do and I needed to see for myself that there is hope to get back on the right track. "Has Angel been visiting you lately?" I keep the tone light, giving her a curious look of my own.

[_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