Joss owns all. I own nothing but the story idea, Thanks to Kim for giving me, albeit inadvertently, the idea for the story, and to the members of the Watchers' council for applause and feedback.
Okay, now, last thing she remembered she was smashing backfirst into a truck with her own damn knife sticking out of her stomach. Nice moves on B's part; she never would have suspected that Buffy had it in her to do a killing blow. Guess they weren't as far apart as B liked to think.
But now, here she was in the apartment the Mayor'd rented out for her. Only it was clean, spotless, kinda like it'd been before she and B had duked it out. So what was going on?
Likely, she was in the middle of some kinda dreamstate. Slayers were prone to such things, and just because she'd switched sides didn't make that any less true. But what the hell could this mean? Was she dying? Was she already dead? Was she lying in the back of that truck as it sped out of town? Just her luck to fall into a truck driven by Marlee Matlin.
Noise at the door. Keys in lock, so belonged here. But who was it?
Answer: Her own damn self. If she didn't think she was having some kind of vision now, she was downright positive now.
The her at the door - wearing black jeans and a plain white t-shirt - smiled broadly. "Hey there, F," she said, walking inside. "I'd ask if I could come in, but what's the point? I am you and you are me."
"And we are all together, goo goo goo joob. There a point to this? The Beatles went out thirty years ago." Faith wasn't much in the mood for bullshit.
"'course there's a point, F," she answered. "And don't knock the classics."
When her other self didn't elaborate, Faith walked over with a menacing look on her face and said, "Well? Were you going to tell me, or am I going to have to pound the answers out of you?"
"I wouldn't try it," she said. "Though I admit it'd make one hell of a visual metaphor. Beating yourself up and all that." Her other self gave her a gentle shove and moved to sit down on a chair.
Faith grimaced. This was the nature of these visions, unfortunately. Got so cryptic sometimes they made Twin Peaks look like Barney. "You know," Faith told her twin, "If this is some kinda prophecy of impending doom, or some horrible demon, you may as well know: I'm out of the business. Got myself a new employer and a new plan."
"For now, F, for now," she answered. "Do you really think this is a prophecy dream? Man, you're further gone than I thought. You're lying in a coma in Sunnydale hospital - c'mon, think about it, it only makes sense - and you think the powers that be would send YOU a prophecy? Any five-year old could do more than you could, at the moment. Gotta tell you, F, while your little act of revenge on Buffy - throwing yourself off the building to deny her your blood - may have been spectacular, but it didn't do you any good. You're dying, girlfriend."
"So if it's not a vision, what is it. And hey - how do you know anyway? Not being a vision and all." Faith was still too irritated to sit down, so she paced the room.
'Well, let's see, F," she said in a patronizing tone. "You got a major stab wound to the stomach, likely some severe spinal trauma, and that's minimum! Odds are we're talking internal bleeding and major broken bones, too, and even your famed Slayer healing skills might not be enough to bring you back this time. So how do I know? I used my head. You might want to try using yours a little more often, you know that?"
"What's that supposed to mean?" Faith demanded. The duplicate reached for Faith's arm. Yanking it away, Faith said, "What the hell you think you're doing?"
"Two things, F. first, it's obvious - even though we ain't from Missouri, the two of us need to be shown to believe something. Second - go ahead and resist all you want. This is the inside of your head, girl. The subconscious. And while you may control the outside - god knows, I wouldn't have made some of those dumb choices you did -- I'm in charge here. So -" she grabbed Faith's arm again and yanked - "You're coming with whether you want to or not."
Struggle as she could, Faith couldn't break her duplicate's grip. Soon the two of them were - floating? - up through the apartment ceiling. When Faith's vision next cleared, she was looking at herself lying in a hospital bed. Her duplicate had been right - she was in sad shape. The heart monitor was beeping away, though, even if she couldn't hear it. "Look around, F. I didn't make this up - this is you. And I gotta say, this does not look good for our villainess, now, does it?"
"Okay, okay, point proved. I'm dying. So you getting your jollies by rubbing it in as I pass into the Great Beyond?"
"Not for me to say whether you pass or not. I'm trapped in here as much as you are - I just happen to have had a lot of free time recently to do some thinking. Come on, let's do a little looking around." And then she grabbed faith again and dragged her out through the hospital room wall. "Well, would you look at that." Faith looked down the hall as well and saw Willow, Xander, Oz and Giles pacing a short way down the hall. "Now we know they ain't here because of you."
"Yeah," Faith said bitterly. "Not like they were ever there for me anyway. I wouldn't expect any different whether I'd gone over or stayed with the wimp brigade."
"No one was ever there for you, were they, F?" the duplicate said. Dad died young, Mom was a whacked-out bitch who hit you until you got too tough for her to try it anymore, and none of the people at school ever gave you the time of day. 'course, you kept stealing all their watches, so how could they? But never mind. And then - THEN - you finally got to do something important. You learned you were the all-powerful, almighty chosen one. The one girl on earth with the power and the skill to fight the vampires and the other critters who hunt the night. But even here - even here - someone else got there first. Buffy Summers. The girl who'd taken down the Master, the girl who'd driven off two tough vamps like Spike and Drusilla - and what were you by comparison?"
Faith didn't say anything. How could she?
"You were nothing. Buffy had the rep, she had the history, she had the friends. And you didn't have any of these things."
"They had," Faith answered, "A little club going when I came here. And it was pretty obvious from the start that I just wasn't going to be invited in. I didn't fit in their little clique."
"So Buffy made YOU feel like an outsider, F? Well, wasn't that just ultra-hypocritical of her, seeing her social position. I'll bet you hated her for that." She paused and grinned a shit-eater. "Note this tone in my voice - it's called sarcasm. Can you say sarcasm?
"Quit being so damn patronizing," Faith answered. "And would you stop calling me F? It's really starting to get on my nerves."
"Got my reasons. You of all people should know that."
"I wish," Faith said irritably, "That you'd stop talking about me like we weren't the same person."
"Oho, NOW you're admitting I'm a part of you. Well, first step and all that. Now let's head on back inside -" another armgrab, and soon they were back inside her head, standing around the apartment. "And now for the point of the evening. Faith: You've had opportunity after opportunity to make your life better. Mom was abusive. Yeah, that is tough, no two ways about it. Some people rise above things like that. But instead of rising above it - and not everyone can - you let it dominate you. Then you get the opportunity of a fuckin' lifetime - kill the bad guys, save the world, live the kind of life you never dreamed possible. And you throw it away out of sheer jealousy. Poor ol' F wasn't getting enough love. And your thousands of boytoys don't count, not that I'm exactly objecting on that score. But you know what? They cared for you, F. Or they would have had you given them more of a chance. But no. You threw them away when they tried to help you -"
"Wesley and his friggin' Watcher's Council thugs tried to KIDNAP me!" Faith screamed, interrupting.
"Yeah, well, that was a damned heavy hand on his part. But Buffy? Giles? For God's sake, you tried to STRANGLE Xander. And even if the boy's got a flair for autoeroticism it's not up to you to bring it out, capisce? You showed the heavy hand right back by betraying them. They tried to care for you and you spat that care right back in their faces. Want to know why you're here? Want to know why Buffy's in that room down the hall struggling to live? Want to know why a demon more powerful than almost any you'd care to come up with is within hours of being born and eating up everyone in town? That's right, F. It's all on you." Then before Faith could say anything, her duplicate looked at her. "Now think hard. F. What happens next is all up to you. You've screwed up big. Now the only question is, what are you going to do about it?"
The anger drained from her and Faith said. "Do? Why should I do anything? You haven't proven to me I've done anything wrong - except for trying to strangle Xander. I shouldn't have just tried, I should have choked the life out of him."
Her other self pursed her lips and sighed. "Last chance, F. You realize the mistakes you've made?"
"What mistakes?" Faith shrugged. "All I did, seems to me, is finally figure out what end was up. And," she said, poking her double in the chest repeatedly, "I don't need some spectre of my own subconscious butting in just when things are getting good to try to ruin it for me."
"If you don't stop with the finger, I'm going to rip it off."
Faith ignored the threat. "I got the power now, can't you see that? I got the respect. Finally, everyone's looking up to me!" She kept pushing herself across the room. "And you think I should acknowledge MISTAKES?"
Suddenly the duplicate grabbed Faith's finger and bent it back hard enough to break it. "Warned you," she shrugged as Faith yelped in pain. "I didn't want to have to do it this way - but you just won't listen to reason. So I guess I'll have to use force." She struck at Faith's face; the Slayer blocked and tried a punch of her own, which was blocked in return. They both assumed fighting poses.
"This is ridiculous," Faith said. "Like you said, we're parts of the same person. How can one of us beat the other?"
"This were the real world, F, you'd be dead on. Trouble for you is -" lunging forward, she grabbed Faith's wrist and yanked her forward into a waiting fist - "This ain't real. It's the subconscious. And in the subconscious, I rule." Faith heard the last sentence from her position flat on the ground. Her duplicate kicked her a few times before she could get up, cradling her injured hand.
At some level, Faith knew what she was fighting for - her existence. She lost, this namby-pamby goody-twoshoes would take over! Not a chance!
Then the slugfest. A dizzying succession of punches struck at Faith - she'd liked to have thought she was giving as good as she got, but it just wasn't true. A couple of solid blows landed, but basically her counterpart was overmatching her.
No! She couldn't let that happen . . .
Sadly, she didn't seem to have much choice. Battered, broken, bleeding, she could do nothing but groan helplessly as her counterpart picked her up and carried her out onto the roof nearby. "And finally you get to learn why I've been calling you F this whole time. Let's just say F stands for you. For everything you've been for the last four months. Though you may have dropped out of school, Faith, you get an F in being you."
As she flew off the roof - this time into oblivion - she heard one word ringing after her as she went:
"Failure!"
* * *
Faith - the one and only, now - looked around the apartment in her mind. No way was she staying here, now. This was the way she'd been, not the way she was gonna be once she woke up. But these things had an order.
'sides, B was gonna be here any time now, and boy did Faith have some info to give HER.
She looked around for the boxes. It was time to get packing.