Title: Here We Go (Down, Down, Down)

Author: Trixie

Disclaimer: Joss is the owner and all around sadist of the Buffyverse

Rating: PG 15

Summary: Faith realizes she got what she wanted

Dedication: to Rae, who has asked me to try Faith before. Here you go, doll!

Here We Go (Down, Down, Down)

You’re in your cell when you hear the news. Angel calls and it always makes

you smile. Not much does, so it’s always a relief to hear his voice through

the line. He tells you and you don’t smile this time. His voice is a little

weak, a little blank. It’s not there, it’s gone and you know where.

You can’t think. You’re not sure what he wants you to say, or what you’re

supposed to feel. The conversation doesn’t last long. It turns out he

doesn’t want you to say anything. He wants to be alone. Alone with her and

her ghost. So you hang up and you sit alone, staring at the grey walls.

You feel like something is missing. A part of you, maybe. You think you

should be wailing out sorrow for your sister in black death. But nothing

comes. Friends (if you can call them that) pass by the bars and say things

to you, but you ignore them. Its not like you’re trying to be mean, you just

don’t hear their voices… cause they aren’t the right ones.

The spot where she stabbed you starts to hurt and you rub it for a moment,

remembering the thick slide of the blade and hot blood. It doesn’t bother

you- remembering it- it’s not the most painful memory, not by a long shot.

You’re not sure what is, when you think of her, things are jumbled, so you

don’t. Think of her, that is.

A day passes and you realize you haven’t eaten. The guards know not to

bother you. You may be docile, but they see the glint to your eyes. It might

not be much, but you’ve managed to keep some power. She always eclipsed you

in power, and you were never sure how you felt about that. You knew the

rage, you knew the fury… you knew the insane desire to take things she loved

and mold them into yours. But the feelings are so mixed that you think you’d

be better not to examine them closely.

You wonder exactly what happened to her. Angel wasn’t forthcoming with too

many details and you didn’t want to ask because well, you were afraid his

voice might break and then he might cry and that would be too much. You’re

terrified to see Angel weep. It would be like watching your father cry. You

recall that your father is a nothing face in your brain and then forget

again, because that’s what you’re good at.

You remember how you used to have dreams about killing her. How her head

used to loll back like a deflated balloon, how her teeth appeared to be

broken windows, grinning sickly at you as you smashed them in and the blood

sprayed over your fists. Yes, you remember. Does that mean you really wanted

it to happen? Yes, you concede, and doze off.

When you wake up your head feels muzzy and you don’t know what time it is.

You think of her name- and you even say it, to see what it sounds like

rolling on your tongue- Buffy- and then you fall silent once more. For a

moment you think of Sunnydale and the sun on your face and the dust choking

your lungs, and then you decide to push that aside, and you do. You’ve had

practice.

Your stomach starts to rumble and you touch the place where she betrayed you

again and it feels slightly squishy, but you don’t check to see if it’s

re-opened. The scar is too livid… despite Slayer healing, it is your only

wound that has never truly healed and you don’t want to know why. Closing

your eyes, you catch a glimpse of days when you fought beside her and you

could smell her sweat. Yes, you can hear her laughter, and the whooshing

noises her body made as it moved.

As you stretch, you wonder who the next Slayer will be. You wonder how long

she’ll last against the Hellmouth, and then laugh at the thought of someone

else dying in that godforsaken shitty town. You hate it there, and you think

you might hate it everywhere.

You wish you could see the sky, just once. You wish you could see her, just

once.

Falling back against the cold stone bench, you feel your eyelids beginning

to twitch and remember the sound of her voice.

Yes, you loved her.

But you still wanted her dead.

A small smile twists your mouth as you fall asleep.

End

“Here we go up, up, up

High in the sky so blue

Here we go down, down, down

Touching the rose so red”

- Lullaby (Unknown)