Fanfiction: Angel: If I Can't See The Sun Maybe I Should Go
Title: If I Can't See The Sun Maybe I Should Go
Characters: Faith, Wesley (Faith/Wesley if you squint)
Rating: PG-13
Words: 934
Summary: Faith makes her way to L.A. during season 5 and notices what a mess Wesley is. She takes it upon herself to try to fix it.
Author's note: Written for ever_neutral's prompt: show me where you run to when no one's left to take your side. It's a very liberal interpretation though.
Faith ditches Buffy and the others after a few months in Cleveland. It's not her style, staying in one place for long. They don't need her anymore anyways. It was bad enough when there was two slayers (she was always the spare, rarely the one) but now that there were hundreds? She blended in. She was just another number.
And it kind of fucking sucks, you know?
So she makes her way around the country, stopping in towns for a few weeks at a time, doing what she can before moving on. She feels like there's adrenaline in her blood, she can't stay still. Can't stay in one place for long. Like someone will catch her if she does. Which isn't completely irrational, considering she escaped prison and all that.
Eventually, she ends up in Los Angeles. She originally made her way back to see Angel (they had barely talked when she was last in town, thanks to Angelus and that whole fiasco) but it's not him who makes her stay. It's Wesley.
She remembers how he was a year ago. Different from the stuffy watcher of before. Darker, but stronger. Broken, but still fighting. Kind of like her. It was something she could respect. But this? It's downright pathetic.
He follows around that blue haired goddess like he's the ghost of the place (apparently, Spike had actually been one for a while which was kind of hilarious if you asked Faith, but nobody did) and it's just fucking weird. She doesn't like it. It bothers her, and she doesn't know why. Maybe she feels a little responsible, knowing the hand she played in breaking the man down. (She'll never hurt him again, but he'll never fully trust her not to either. She doesn't blame him).
So she corners him one night, when she knows Illyria is off beating the shit out of Spike. She enters his room without asking and grabs the bottle of whiskey he's nursing. She takes a long swig before sitting down on his bed next to him. "You know, I never pegged you for the pathetic moping type before, Wes."
His sigh is more frustrated than anything else. Clearly, he just wants to be left alone to his misery. Well, tough shit. "I didn't think you had me pegged as particularly anything, Faith. That would be suggesting you care."
His words sting, but she also knows he's doing it on purpose, so she tries to just let it roll off her back. "See, a year ago I saw you torturing a guy for answers, fighting with a determination I never would have thought possible. And now you're moping around like a big baby. So I have to wonder, what exactly happened?"
"A lot has happened."
She takes another swig of his whisky, not giving it back just yet. "Yeah, yeah, I know that Fred chick you had a boner for died and now it's the creepy blue smurf lady in her place but seriously, giving up? That ain't going to change anything."
"But isn't that what you did?" He asks, challenging her as he took the bottle back from her. "You sat in prison for years, afraid to move."
"And who snapped me out of that? Who got me out, Wes? Consider this returning the favor. The way I see it, it's the least I can do after all the shit I've put you through."
His laugh is hollow. "I don't need to be an obligation to you Faith, another stepping stone in your path to redemption."
"You aren't. It's different. Don't ask me how cause hell if I know, but it is. And the way I see it, you ain't go anyone but me to knock sense into you right now. Angel's got his own problems, like signing away all your souls to this place, and so do the rest of 'em. And that Illyria chick isn't going to help you. So that leaves me. Which sucks for you because I'm still pretty new to the whole helping gig. But here's what I think, you need to get the hell out of this place."
He raises a curious brow at that. "And where would you suggest I go? Do you really think Wolfram and Hart would just let me do such a thing?"
"You'd come with me. We could be like a crime fighting duo you see in movies, the Slayer and her alcoholic ex-Watcher. Kicking ass and taking names. And if they tried to stop me? I'd just kick their asses." And she smirks with that old confidence of hers. She still knows how to wear her game face when it counts the most.
"You make it sound so simple." But they both know it isn't. When has either of their lives ever, ever been simple? He takes another long swig from his bottle.
And then Faith grabs the bottle from him, finishing off the last of it before she rises to her feet. "Becase it is. You just think way too damn much. Downside of being all brainy, I guess. I'll be by to pick you up in the morning, you better have packed. And before you ask, we are so not taking the blue pet with us."
He laughs a little once more, and it sounds almost genuine this time. "Wouldn't dream of it."
And with that, Faith leaves him for the night. But she'll be back in the morning like promised. Because he needs someone like her right now. And as fucked up as it sounds? Feels kind of good to be needed again.
Characters: Faith, Wesley (Faith/Wesley if you squint)
Rating: PG-13
Words: 934
Summary: Faith makes her way to L.A. during season 5 and notices what a mess Wesley is. She takes it upon herself to try to fix it.
Author's note: Written for ever_neutral's prompt: show me where you run to when no one's left to take your side. It's a very liberal interpretation though.
Faith ditches Buffy and the others after a few months in Cleveland. It's not her style, staying in one place for long. They don't need her anymore anyways. It was bad enough when there was two slayers (she was always the spare, rarely the one) but now that there were hundreds? She blended in. She was just another number.
And it kind of fucking sucks, you know?
So she makes her way around the country, stopping in towns for a few weeks at a time, doing what she can before moving on. She feels like there's adrenaline in her blood, she can't stay still. Can't stay in one place for long. Like someone will catch her if she does. Which isn't completely irrational, considering she escaped prison and all that.
Eventually, she ends up in Los Angeles. She originally made her way back to see Angel (they had barely talked when she was last in town, thanks to Angelus and that whole fiasco) but it's not him who makes her stay. It's Wesley.
She remembers how he was a year ago. Different from the stuffy watcher of before. Darker, but stronger. Broken, but still fighting. Kind of like her. It was something she could respect. But this? It's downright pathetic.
He follows around that blue haired goddess like he's the ghost of the place (apparently, Spike had actually been one for a while which was kind of hilarious if you asked Faith, but nobody did) and it's just fucking weird. She doesn't like it. It bothers her, and she doesn't know why. Maybe she feels a little responsible, knowing the hand she played in breaking the man down. (She'll never hurt him again, but he'll never fully trust her not to either. She doesn't blame him).
So she corners him one night, when she knows Illyria is off beating the shit out of Spike. She enters his room without asking and grabs the bottle of whiskey he's nursing. She takes a long swig before sitting down on his bed next to him. "You know, I never pegged you for the pathetic moping type before, Wes."
His sigh is more frustrated than anything else. Clearly, he just wants to be left alone to his misery. Well, tough shit. "I didn't think you had me pegged as particularly anything, Faith. That would be suggesting you care."
His words sting, but she also knows he's doing it on purpose, so she tries to just let it roll off her back. "See, a year ago I saw you torturing a guy for answers, fighting with a determination I never would have thought possible. And now you're moping around like a big baby. So I have to wonder, what exactly happened?"
"A lot has happened."
She takes another swig of his whisky, not giving it back just yet. "Yeah, yeah, I know that Fred chick you had a boner for died and now it's the creepy blue smurf lady in her place but seriously, giving up? That ain't going to change anything."
"But isn't that what you did?" He asks, challenging her as he took the bottle back from her. "You sat in prison for years, afraid to move."
"And who snapped me out of that? Who got me out, Wes? Consider this returning the favor. The way I see it, it's the least I can do after all the shit I've put you through."
His laugh is hollow. "I don't need to be an obligation to you Faith, another stepping stone in your path to redemption."
"You aren't. It's different. Don't ask me how cause hell if I know, but it is. And the way I see it, you ain't go anyone but me to knock sense into you right now. Angel's got his own problems, like signing away all your souls to this place, and so do the rest of 'em. And that Illyria chick isn't going to help you. So that leaves me. Which sucks for you because I'm still pretty new to the whole helping gig. But here's what I think, you need to get the hell out of this place."
He raises a curious brow at that. "And where would you suggest I go? Do you really think Wolfram and Hart would just let me do such a thing?"
"You'd come with me. We could be like a crime fighting duo you see in movies, the Slayer and her alcoholic ex-Watcher. Kicking ass and taking names. And if they tried to stop me? I'd just kick their asses." And she smirks with that old confidence of hers. She still knows how to wear her game face when it counts the most.
"You make it sound so simple." But they both know it isn't. When has either of their lives ever, ever been simple? He takes another long swig from his bottle.
And then Faith grabs the bottle from him, finishing off the last of it before she rises to her feet. "Becase it is. You just think way too damn much. Downside of being all brainy, I guess. I'll be by to pick you up in the morning, you better have packed. And before you ask, we are so not taking the blue pet with us."
He laughs a little once more, and it sounds almost genuine this time. "Wouldn't dream of it."
And with that, Faith leaves him for the night. But she'll be back in the morning like promised. Because he needs someone like her right now. And as fucked up as it sounds? Feels kind of good to be needed again.