Faith bolted to a sitting position in bed, breathing labored, a fine sheen of cold sweat slicking her body and causing the indigo sheets to cling to her trembling body. She gasped at the sudden warp in her surroundings, eyes wide and searching for a sign that it had indeed been only a nightmare.
((Shit...))
Shakily, the brunette rose from the bed that she had recently felt comfortable making her own. While on her road to redemption, which Angel knew far too well, he had managed to convince Cordelia that the young slayer could be trusted not to kill or maim the former May Queen in her sleep. Things still weren't exactly a bed of roses between the two, but it was still one of the few small comforts that had come her way in the past few weeks to know that she had a place to stay and someone who would tolerate her. Corny as all hell, she knew, but she'd missed out on corny for most of her short life.
She made her way from her room, located across the hall from Cordy's, to the kitchen of the apartment, once again extremely glad that Dennis was a lot less jealous of women staying with the fashion-conscious girl than men. He'd even given up his room for her--not that he'd really needed it. The fact that she shared a house with a poltergeist was a bit unnerving at first, but now, his echoing presence became almost soothing, like she always knew that someone was watching over her.
Smiling and straightening the oversized black t-shirt she habitually wore to bed, Faith bent down to scour the freezer for any cookie-dough ice cream that might be left after Cordy had gone on a post-audition-panic binge. A victorious grin blanketed her face as she found that there was enough left for just one more bowl. She retrieved a bowl from the cabinet and a spoon from the drawer and set about dishing up the cold confectionary, smiling as the refrigerator door opened and a bottle of chocolate syrup floated toward her.
"Thanks, Phantom Dennis."
He flickered the lights in a "you're welcome."
"Faith?" A groggy voice called from the hall, followed by a disheveled and chemise-clad Cordelia Chase. "What are you doing up?" She yawned. "Another nightmare?"
Faith shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah. Sort of up for the night now."
Cordy nodded and opened the refrigerator, putting the chocolate syrup back as she pulled out a carton of orange juice and poured herself a tall glass. The other girl stirred her ice cream in nervous silence.
"So... what's your excuse?"
"Just a sleepless night, I guess," Cordy replied, taking a swig of the pulpy liquid. "Wanna watch infomercials?"
"Sure."
It had become almost a nightly tradition. Faith would awaken from a nightmare, Cordelia would be soon to follow from general unrest, and the two would sit up till the wee hours of the morning viewing and cracking jokes about the infomercials that plagued night-time television. It was their favorite way to get past awkward silences, doing what each was good at--making fun of "lesser people."
"Whoa. Now there's a pretty picture," Faith snickered as the TV clicked on and the girls were greeted with the sight of a pudgy, red-faced man displaying a set of Precious Moments Bibles, on sale for $29.95.
Cordy giggled. "A glutton selling kids' Bibles. Contradiction, much?"
The light from the TV played over their faces, casting each one in a holy sort of glow.
"You ever buy that crap?" Faith suddenly spoke up.
"Off of these shows? Sheeyeah, right."
"Not that. I mean, like, the Bible and stuff. You ever take it seriously?"
Cordy paused thoughtfully. "Sort of. I mean, there's obviously a Hell, so there must be a Heaven, and with the whole good versus evil thing that we've been thrown into, well... the whole good power part's gotta come from somewhere, right?"
Faith shrugged, and the other brunette furrowed her brow.
"You don't believe in any of it? None at all?"
"I dunno. The world's given me a lot of shit, y'know? I'm just not sure if this... good power thing is really all it's cracked up to be."
"Well, you never know."
"Until you're dead."
"A bit pessimistic, wouldn't you say?"
"Realistic."
*
The next morning found them at the office of Angel Investigations. It was a slow day. But then, things were considered fast when the agency got one call that wasn't either a prank, a wrong number, or in their line of work. In other words, there was jack shit going on, and even less in the way of things to do.
"Anyone want lunch?" Cordelia piped up, a hopeful expression gracing her features.
"Cordy, it's 9:45 a.m." Angel smirked at his employee.
"Brunch?"
"You just ate."
"...no I didn't," she lied.
"I smell bagel on your breath. Now settle down. Things'll pick up."
"You can smell that?" She blinked, taken aback. "Okay, keeping a toothbrush here now!"
Angel rolled his eyes. "You know, if you showed as much initiative in acting as you did in your appearance--"
He was cut off as the girl suddenly cried out and grasped onto the desk for support, he knuckles turning white as they clutched the wood, her head pulsing in a deep, shooting pain the reverberated through her skull with enough force to make her legs go limp. Wesley caught her as she fell. Her hands slipped away from the desk to dig into her temples as the images flashed over her eyes with such sheer power that she nearly lost consciousness. Slowly, the pain lessened to tolerable levels, fading to a dull ache in the back of her head.
"Cordy, what'd you see?" Angel questioned, kneeling by the fallen girl's side.
"It was a club--the one near the doughnut shop--Dezyre. At night-time... God, it was like the Bible in Technicolor and Surround-Sound..."
"What do you mean?"
"There was this girl... I couldn't make out her face, but she was bleeding; holes right through her wrists--ew."
"You don't know who she was, what she looked like?"
Cordy shook her head. "It was like she was blank from the neck up."
"Damn..." Angel swore under his breath. Wesley looked eagerly at his three companions.
"Well, look on the bright side; at least we've something to do later on."
He shrank back under their glares.
"Something I said?"
*
"Angel, I wanna go. I'm gonna go. You can't stop me," Faith argued, pacing a trench in the floor as the vampire shrugged into his leather jacket. He'd been concerned that she wasn't ready to delve right back into hand-to-hand combat; it would be too much of a temptation to lose control.
"I just don't think--"
"I can do this," she looked at him almost pleadingly, her voice determined and stubborn. "I wanna help."
With an unneeded, exasperated sigh, Angel searched the girl's face carefully. If anything, she was being sincere. ((But since when is sincerity a safeguard... no. I have to trust her if I want her to start trusting me--others. I won't coop her up in a cage, no matter how much I want to protect her.))
"Fine. Just don't get into trouble."
"Who, me?" she smirked, feigning innocence. Angel took on his serious tone.
"I mean it, Faith. Be careful."
She bit her lip and nodded. He turned to leave, but was drawn back as her hand reached out to grip his arm. "Hey, no matter what my line of work... I've never let a boss down." She smiled, and he smiled back, both reveling in reassurance. He left the small office, Faith skipping out behind him.
*
Deep, throbbing, bass-enriched music pounded in their ears as the four entered the club, each one scanning the crowd for any sign of the girl in Cordelia's vision. Finding no one, they dispersed into pairs; Angel and Wesley; Cordelia and Faith.
The dark slayer immediately fell into place with the dancing mob, swaying her body and rotating her hips in a hypnotic, snake-like coil. Cordy desperately hoped she wouldn't strike as she began to move alongside the other girl, eyes ever watchful for their prospective victim.
Faith moved freely to the beat; how she loved this. Here she could be intoxicated, literally high on life, moving and doing whatever she pleased. Her utopia. It was as if her senses heightened times ten whenever she entered a club. She could feel everything--the smooth rub of her leather pants against her legs every time she moved or rolled her hips, the pulsing heat of everyone who surrounded her, the click of her boots every time she scuffed them lightly across the floor...
All of it going on blind faith. She smirked at the thought and glanced over to Cordelia, who was moving in a similar manner, but with a lot less freedom and fluidity to her actions.
"C'mon, C, let loose a bit," she coaxed, curling her fingers in invitation to a dance. Cordy, refusing to be shown up by anyone, accepted and began curling her body around the brunette slayer in a slow, seductive rhythm.
"Um... w-where did they learn t-to dance like that?" Wesley stuttered as he and the dark vampire watched the girls from afar. Angel said nothing, only watched as Faith arched her back, seemingly in slow-motion, allowing her hair to skim the floor before rising up and placing a hand on the small of Cordy's back so that she, too, could dip low. Mesmerized by their actions, he only snapped to attention as Faith's head suddenly jerked up and a glass-shattering scream escaped her full lips. She crumpled to the ground, landing on her back with arms stretched out on either side.
Small pools of blood were forming around her wrists by the time Angel got to her. Her body arched up off of the floor, though her wrists stayed pinned to the same place. She screamed again, tears of pain and confusion streaming off her cheeks and into her deep chocolate-brown wavy locks. A circle had formed around them--Angel knew he had to get her out of there. Quickly gathering the sobbing girl in his arms, he ran out of the club, followed closely by Wes and Cordy. Running to the light of a street lamp, he gingerly laid her down on the cement and lifted one of her arms that rested in a numb limpness at her side. A deep puncture wound marred the inside of her wrist, and with a growing knot in his stomach he turned her hand over. Sure enough, it had gone all the way through. He examined her other wrist, only to find an identical wound, both still bleeding freely on the sidewalk. He looked up into the faces of his two friends, as if to ask if the wounds were indeed real. The look of utter shock on all their faces told him that they were very real.
"Oh, God..."
*