No Man's Land
TITLE: No Man's Land
ARCHIVE/DISTRIBUTION: Want, take, have. Just tell me where so I can pimp the archive here!
SUMMARY: She's back: Out of the coma, rested, rejuvinated, and ready for forgiveness. X/F galore.
CONTENT/WARNINGS: Hm. AU. There's violence, and there's Faith - so almost everything will be dark. There's also Xander - so some will be light.
DISCLAIMER: Joss Whedon and other people own this stuff; I don't. So please don't sue me, I 'm very poor. Ask nicely and I'll take this down. But be prepared to prove that you are who you say you are--I'm not going to take this down just because some people desperately need a life.
NOTE: This fic is set at the beginning of season four, and playing off of the dream sequence Faith and Buffy had in Grad Day 2 - where they did make up. This is kind of an alternate universe. But do note that things have changed, and some of the changes Faith won't be so happy with. There is no Anya in this fic, since this is my alternation of season four - so she's out. Also, I have to thank Alison (http://faithsolace.com, http://dirtyvirgin.org) in HUGE proportions, for she deserves it. She has helped beta and review this fic and there's a huge possibility I might not have been able to dare myself to write Xander without her help. But now that I have, I think I can! I also would like to thank Cori, my wifey, who has also reviewed and made me feel good about it. Then, finally, Sarah - my nymphetamine girl, for she has gave me faith(no pun intended) in Cosmo Girl.
She was so pale. He could remember when her skin was smooth, tan, warm to the touch. Lips sparking with some kind of devilishly sexy red lipstick. Perfect and full. Now they were broken, cracked. Bruised fruit, that was what she was.
He would sit there, pondering if anyone wondered where he would go when he would disappear for a few hours. He doubted it, didn't mean he couldn't think about it.
Xander had been here more than once. At least once every week and if he missed one day, he would make up by going two days the week after that. Sometimes he would read her stories. Which was kind of lame, but he really didn't care. Sometimes he would just stop by and complain, whine about how much his life sucked, and tell her about how horrible his day was. Sometimes, rarely, he would tell her about how good life could be. Out of all people, he knew she would understand how he felt.
He never bothered asking "why", "how", or "what" drove her over the edge. And not because she couldn't answer. He never tried talking about her. It was always about himself. He just didn't know what to say. He never knew the right words when it came to Faith.
The ground was damp, muddy. Her small hands gripped the soil beneath her, squeezing it so hard the rain from above dripped out of it. Her surroundings were nothing but walls of dirt and vines and darkness. This is the place she deserved to be. She knew this was true by the look of determination, knowing, and death on the person's face who so righteously stood above her.
Slowly she laid her body down. The sudden cold and wet from the surface she was now laying upon soaking through the cheap cotton tank that covered her upper torso. Her eyes never blinked, not even once, as she awaited what the judge standing above her would call punishment.
My penis has never got the attention it deserves!
Staring upward in confusion, the last thing she saw was Buffy driving the dagger home.
"My penis has never got the attention it deserves," Xander went on, flipping through a 'Cosmo Girl' magazine he stole from Buffy. What? Every guy needed to learn how to get women some way or another. "And my position as the-kid-who-is-living-in-his-parents'-basement isn't helping."
He could only define these "humorous" moments as bittersweet when he noticed that no one was laughing and that no one was staring at him like he was a little green martian from mars, and that when he looked at the girl laying still on the cheap hospital bed, he knew for once that no one was judging him. That was a feeling he hadn't felt in a while. Even if the person that caused him to have these feelings was put in a coma for her evil-doing ways!
"Wow," His attention went to a particular page in the magazine. "That is o-"
His sentence was cut off by the sudden movement in the room. Normally, this wouldn't bother him much. But being in this empty, painfully lonely room had him used to the quiet and stillness.
Attention was pulled away from the magazine and to the girl who had managed to sit up in less than a mili-second. At first he was just frozen. Half of him some kind of weird combination of shock and actual relief, his other half in fear for his very life. How much had Faith changed during her knock-out period? Was she going to see him, explode with hatred, then make him explode as well, only this time, literally? Well, he didn't take Faith for an explosives type gal... which is beyond the point. Should he be screaming like a banshee and running for his life?
The raven-haired female blinked in an attempt to clear the blur out of her eyes. This place... this place she was in, it was different from before - in her dreams. It was worse. No, it was horrific. What happened to her grave? She was safe there. She wasn't safe here.
"Boss..." No. Her boss was gone. She was sure of it. Or else Buffy wouldn't have been in her dreams, finishing what she had started, would she? Take away everything. And according to her surroundings, she had done just that.
It was then that she noticed the other presence in the room.