Title: Between Shadows (Episode VIII: …and Nothing Else Matters) part 1/4

Author: Scb047 ([email protected])

Summary: After Dawn's abduction, Xander starts down a path he took long ago with Buffy, hoping to finally quiet the ghosts that have been plaguing him, and maybe finally make the last stand he wished he'd taken years ago.

Distribution: Distribute away, no permission required.

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Disclaimer: If you want to sue me, first you gotta catch me. Long live the joys of copyright infringements!!! Avenge Napster!!! We remember…

Special thanks to Calen Hawk for the Beta Reading.

Chapter 1: So Close, No Matter How Far

Fear.

Fear binds all things, like a cosmic amoral glue, like some primeval ductape, holding the entire fabric of reality together. Human existence is confined by that relationship. We are afraid of pain, but likewise shy away from overindulgence. Our moral lines are drawn around a balance, a hope reined by fear, that we should walk a path that would not condemn us to torment. The fear of death keeps us from danger. The fear of rejection keeps us from happiness, from loving someone who could perhaps love us back if only given the chance. Fear, in all its endless spectrum, delineates the human experience. One who ceases to fear, simply ceases to live.

Fear for Xander Lavelle Harris, was a name. Fear was a face whose features were forever burned into his memory. The twisted goatish skull, shadowed by the flame surging from the left eye socket; the ocular cavities deep and pronounced under overgrown bony formations. Carnivorous, jagged teeth lining the terrible mouth; the jaw's bleached bone as white as ivory. And a smile, a smile ever present behind the terrifying demeanor; a playful yet dreadful attitude that never waned, regardless of the situation. Even in his dreams, Xander couldn't wipe that smile away, no matter how hard he tried. Even with universes between them, Asmodeus' presence was always with him. Fear, not love, made Xander's world go round.

It had been many hours since he'd hung up the phone on Asmodeus. Morning drew closer and still he could feel the Archdemon's hellish voice caressing his ears. As he remembered the words, playing the conversation over and over in his mind, Xander stared at a pair of scissors on his desk, wondering if Van Gogh had had the right idea.

"What do you want from me?" He spoke the words aloud to the bottle of Wild Turkey, imagining it answering in return.

"I want you Xander; isn't that painfully clear to you by now? Don't you know I've been waiting for you?"

"You have Dawn?"

"Yesss, or will have her shortly. Your mate is bringing her to me as we speak. I can feel her already nearing the fields of blood. A remarkable woman if you ask me. Much more interesting than your former choice." A beat, and then a snicker. "Isn't this the part where you tell me off, Xander?"

"No, no it's not."

"Good, they do say discretion is the better part of valor, but then again valor is not something you know much about, now would you, Xander?"

Xander slid his fingers around the Oerta, its round form now complete with all three pieces interlocked. The grooves were lined with dried blood of the watchers that had died protecting it. Shame was coursing his way through his system again.

"Okay, so what do I do?"

"Meet me by the Fields of Blood. Faith left a little present for you, which should make your trip possible, as it did hers. I do suspect you will want some time to put your affairs in order, so tomorrow by Midnight will do quite nicely. I have suspended time here, so you need not worry yourself about showing up here a few thousand years too late."

"Why…" fear snuck in quickly, and Xander's hands trembled as he spoke. "Why should I do this anyways? You won't let Dawn go, you'd never do that."

"No, you are absolutely right, Xander, I would never deprive myself from the pleasure of killing yet another of your dear ones, especially before your eyes… but that's hardly the question, isn't it, my friend?"

"What do you mean? What question?"

"The question Xander, is how bad I'm going to torture her if you do not come here to end her suffering. The question is what I am going to do with an interdimensional key unless somebody kills her before I open up a portal strong enough to carry my essence? …Xander? Xander? Are you still there Xander, or are you off somewhere in your mind, dreaming of me riding into this little world of yours at the head of an army?"

Broken, Xander's voice became resolved and empty, like a dead man walking his last mile. "I don't… I don't understand… why me? Why…"

"Because I want my favorite toy back, Xander. Eternity is such a bore without torturing you."

Xander hadn't let himself cry in front of his friends. He had bolted quickly to his room, leaving their questions trailing behind as he headed for his only known relief. Xander had rarely ever cried in front of others, it simply wasn't in his nature. He remembered only three times: when Joyce died, when he had been forced to kill Willow, and the day Anya died in his arms. However, he had cried many times before privately. That is why it came as a disturbing surprise that he couldn't cry this time around, no matter how much he felt he should.

"Can you hear her scream, Xander? Can you find enjoyment in it yet?" The words were a flashback twisting in his mind from a time he had been tortured to sleep.

"Is he still in his room?" asked Katrina, as she massaged her neck in the doorway of the kitchen. She gazed at Marcus somberly pouring milk over his cereal.

"Yep, haven't you tried to talk to him yet?"

"Yeah, last night, but he wouldn't open the door or answer. I'm a bit worried."

"Jus a bit? Dawn's gone, we don't know if she's dead or whatever, we don't even know what that freaking demon thing told Xander over the phone and you're just a bit worried?" Gabe's voice was muffled by his bruised jaw.

"Yo, man," piped in Marcus, "Why don't you lay off a bit, you know that's not what she meant."

"Don't worry yourself, honey," said Sanaz as she laid a reassuring hand on her friend shoulder. "I was up there a minute ago and I heard him talking to himself."

Garrett's hands shook as he tried to sip his coffee. His eyes were sunken and his skin was pale. The freshly formed lines under his eyes spoke of the uneasiness of his past night's slumber. When the cup slipped from his fingers and went crashing onto the floor, all eyes turned into his direction. He seemed unresponsive, and it took him a moment to notice the cup was gone from his hand.

"G., you alright there?"

"I'm… I'm…" for the first time since they had all met him, Garrett seemed at a lost for words. "It's the voice, I can't get it out of my head. All it said was 'May I speak to Xander, please?' and I can't get it out of my mind. It's… it's so fucking horrible."

"You're telling us you're still freaked out about that?" asked Gabe, completely mystified.

"C'mon, how bad could it have been Garrett? It's just a voice," chimed in Sanaz.

"You guys don't understand, I… I've seen all sort of demons with you guys, I've seen the bad and the ugly, and we're talking to a point where just about everyone of us almost pissed in his or her pants, and none of that, nothing, scared me as much as hearing that voice did." Garrett paused as the whole room grew quiet, reflecting on what he was saying. "They don't have a word for that kind of fear."

Suddenly, the phone's terrible bell rang out from the living room. After Xander had abruptly slammed it down last night, it had kept ringing and ringing, waiting for him to answer again, the Archdemon probably wanting to taunt him just a bit more. Gabe had wanted to pick it up, but Garrett had prevented him, his drained complexion and disturbed demeanor helping quite a bit with the convincing. They all stared at the phone now, wondering what evil crept at the other end of the receiver, trying to picture themselves having a conversation with one of the primordial forces of the universe. The thought was more than a little belittling.

"I thought I told you to unplug that thing?" asked Sanaz, turning to her half-brother who immediately shrugged.

"I just plugged it back in. I didn't think it'd be ringing anymore. I mean, it wasn't for the past fifteen minutes."

"Well that's it?" exclaimed Sanaz around the eight ring. She paced briskly toward the phone, her face a mask of resolve and anger. She picked up the phone and yelled into the receiver. "We get it, you're evil. Now stop calling us you sick fuck!"

"Listen, miss I don't…"

"Ooo; that's the big voice of evil! Oooo you got me shaking. Let me go get a goat so I can worship you, you jeepy creeping dark prince of evil!"

"Listen, my name's…"

"I know what you're name is you…"

"Is there anybody else there I can talk to?"

"Wait a second," said Sanaz, muffling the receiver against her breast, she turned to her friends with a confused, half-embarrassed look on her face. "Garrett, that Archdemon thingy, did it sounded British by any chance?"

"British?" interrupted Katrina as Garrett shook is head. "Dawn took a phone call from a guy name Giles yesterday. She said he had some information for--"

"—me" interrupted Xander as he came striding into the living room, unshaven and sporting bloodshot eyes. He held out his hand toward Sanaz, motioning her to give him the phone. "It's for me."

"How did you--?"

"I just do, now please give me the phone, he's an old friend."

Sanaz hesitated for a moment, and then handed him the receiver. The group gathered closer to listen in on Xander's side of the conversation.

"Giles, I had a feeling you'd call."

"Xander, is everything alright?"

"Peachy." The sarcasm was unintentional, as Xander couldn't muster the strength to lie to any decent degree. "What's up?"

Giles hesitated before answering. He sensed something horrible had happened, but he could also feel Xander would hang up the phone on him if he pried too quickly. He decided to hold off until he had finished the task at hand. "Alright then, well it's about the prophecy we've talked about before. You remember? The Shadow Prophecies of Fenkel."

"Yeah, the anti-prophecy stuff…"

Giles voice gave away his rising excitation as he approached the subject. Despite his best tries, the watcher simply couldn't contain the trepidation he felt at the topic. "We've finally managed to make sense of it Xander, and what we found is, well, it's remarkable. I can't even begin to know how to tell you this. I've been trying to call you since yesterday but…"

"Wow that's great Giles, way to go on the book reading. Listen, I'm a little busy right now, why don't we do the book club thing some other week, alright?"

"Xander, this is important; you need to know this."

"Alright, but make it fast."

"Very well, here's the condensed version Xander. To put it simply, you have no destiny Xander."

"Are you saying I'm about to die?"

"No, I'm saying you were never meant to be, never meant to accomplish anything."

"Well, thank you Giles, I'll put that opinion right next to my father's 'You were an accident' speech, and my personal favorite, 'you'll never amount to anything.'"

"You're not understanding me, Xander. How's this, the universe is written in stone. According to Fenkel, Fate, not only exists, but cannot be thwarted. It's only our perception of it that leads to situations where we might break a prophecy, which are by his definition, almost always inaccurate. Now, this is nothing new, even modern physics accept that concept with only moderate controversy. Time is not chronological but instead constant, as space is for example, but our perception of it creates that illusion."

"Sorry to remind you Giles, but the most scientific concept I have of time is that if you sling shot around the sun at warp speed you can go back in time."

"Alright then, picture a coffee cup falling and breaking apart. Now it's still the same coffee cup, but at a different point in time. Now you might see that scenario happen very often but, save from magic, you never see the pieces come back together again and form back the cup, because time doesn't reverse itself from our perspective. However, there is no difference between the coffee cup and its pieces, no more than there would be between you standing where you are now and twenty paces away. The idea is that time is a dimension, no different than space."

"So you're saying I should kill the coffee cup?"

Giles grunted in desperation "How's this then: the world is done. It's all written up, there's nothing any of us can do, save from doing the very thing we were meant to do from birth. And I'm talking about everything from big life decisions to whether or not you'll brush your teeth one particular morning. However, like I said, this isn't anything new."

"So what is?"

"According to Fenkel, this universe is only one in a multitude of Megaverse that preceded it. You see, like everything, the universe is imperfect, it has these flaws that appears mysteriously from time to time, and that goes both in space and in time. Like everything that lives or un-lives, it comes with an innate and, for a lack of a better term, subconscious desire to self-destruct. Everything in this world has a death wish to a degree, that's why the human race, for example, has such a tendency of seeking out things that are bad for it, like drugs, violence, heroism, just to name a few. In the end, we all toy with death whether we realize it or not. Anyways, not to digress further, the point is that every once in a while, quite more often than one would think, an individual is born who simply shouldn't be. That individual is left free from the hands of fate and can literally decide his own path, be it that of a beggar or of an Atilla. But one thing is certain, that person affects the paths of everyone around him, thereby warping a brand new world around the simplest of their decisions."

"What are you saying, Giles?"

"There was equation along with Fenkel's writings, it pointed out possible dates where individuals like this were likely to be born. On a hunch, I went and compared your birth date, and it matches. What I'm saying, Xander, is that you have no destiny, you never had one."

As somber as he already was, Xander's expression seemed to sink even more. "No, no you're wrong."

"Granted I could be, considering you certainly aren't the only person born on that date, but it makes perfect sense when you think about it. Of all the books of prophecy ever written, the codex is the only one that has ever been a hundred percent accurate, it prophesied that Buffy would die at the master's hands, and you went and you saved her. Over the years, I had convinced myself that her dying momentarily had fulfilled or rather tricked fate's requirements, but for the longest time, this didn't sit right with me. Why wouldn't have that been included in the writings, surely the prophet would have been able to foresee that as well. More so, there aren't any prophecies that specifically name Buffy after that event; she was supposed to die that day. Furthermore, never in the entire recorded history of the watcher's council has there been more then one slayer, nor was it ever prophesied or thought possible; you made that happened Xander. Think about it, think about all the times you showed up in the nick of time and changed everything on us. Think about what would have happened if you hadn't stood up to Angelus in the hospital, or if you hadn't ran up the tower along with Spike to prevent Doc from opening the portal. The world might be a completely different place. Think about it Xander, the two longest-lived slayers in history, and trust me they are both quite long lived, have only one common bond: you. I'd thought you'd be thrilled, Xander. This is a wonderful gift you have, beyond unique. Don't you understand that this means that—"

"—that everything that ever went wrong with my life is my fault." Xander started to chuckle nervously. "Buffy, I could have saved Buffy, and Willow, and…"

"No, Xander! You can't possibly blame yourself for that. If anything, you've extended Buffy's life beyond what it should have been."

"No, Giles. I could have saved them, if I'd been stronger!" Xander was yelling by then, his emotions totally out of control. "No, this—this means that, contrary to what my father told me over and over again, I had a choice, and I chose to become a drunken, violent looser! I wasted my life Giles! I'm a fucking failure and you just took away any illusions I had about it not being my fault!"

"Xander, I think you just want to blame yourself for something, and you're trying to make me agree with you. What's going on?" Giles waited, listening to the heavy breathing on the other end of the line as his younger friend considered his answer.

"It's Asmodeus Giles," finally answered Xander with a sigh, "He's got Dawn."

"Dear god! But how?

"Let me put it to you this way. You wouldn't happen to have had one of your vault robbed just recently, would you? Because I got a complete Oerta in my hands right now."

"Oh my god—Faith. No, she can't be this stupid."

"Not stupid Giles, just reckless. She never could see three steps ahead."

"Xander, do you know what this means? Asmodeus has what he's been seeking for eons, a way into this world. This… I can't believe this. If what you're saying is true than all hopes have abandoned us."

"No, not yet," answered Xander gravely, "he wants me to go meet him there. He still wants me, probably needs someone to witness it all, the narcissistic son of a bitch."

"So… not all is lost." Giles spoke carefully, uncomfortable with the only possible way out of this situation, even less comfortable with bringing it up. "Xander you do realize what you…"

"I know what I have to do, Giles. Doesn't mean I'm going to do it though."

"We don't have a choice, the lives of the entire world depend on this. Listen, I'm getting on the next plane to New York, I'll be there by this evening. You wait there for me, and I'll come with you, or go alone if I must."

"No Giles, if I go, I go alone. I just might test that theory of yours. See if I really can change the world."

"Xander, what you're talking about it simply can't be done, I told you that before."

"Goodbye Giles and… I love you, man."

"Xander! Xander… !"

The phone went dead on Giles. Immediately, the watcher dialed up again, and then again when he received no answer. He kept trying, as one of his assistant booked him on the next flight to New York. Unbeknownst to Giles, his suspicion that Xander had ripped the phone from the wall, and shattered it against another, were completely accurate.

"So Giles, what's eating you… or the general south-western united state population by the look on your face?" Buffy was almost relieved to see the subtle terror on her watcher's face, she needed someone else's problem to take her mind off her own. Faith trailed only a step behind as the two slayers entered the Magic Box, Giles cleaning his glasses nervously by the counter. As Buffy sat down, Xander and Dawn came out of the training room to join the meeting.

"I'm afraid this is isn't good, Buffy," Giles voice trembled, "the watcher's council has just dispatched me the most distressing of news."

"United lost to Liverpool?"

"Xander! This hardly the time for jokes!" yelled Giles before calming down, "And for the record Liverpool is doing quite well this year I'll have you know."

"Red-loving wanker," muttered Xander under his breath. Meanwhile, Giles continued on, quickly moving back toward an aura of poorly veiled terror.

"It seems the world's in danger of coming to an end once more, but this time… I'm afraid we might not be in time to stop it."

"Okay, I'll say it," volunteered Dawn after a few moments, "What do you mean, Giles?"

"Perhaps this was not the best way…"

"Giles," interrupted Buffy, "How about you tell us what's going on first."

"Yeah," interrupted Faith, hovering around in the back of the magic shop. "If the world ends tonight, I'm planning on going out in a blaze of drugs and sex, not a boring little chat on how we might have been able to stop it."

"Well, to put it as simply, our sources tells us Archdemon Asmodeus has found a way into this world."

"The Who? You know what, scratch that Giles, just tell me where I can find it and how to kill it?"

"Dear God Buffy, haven't you read any of the books I've been lending you?"

"You mean it's not enough to just lay them about on my desk in a fancy fashion?"

"Listen, Buffy, I've told you before about how this world began, however, I failed to mention that at the beginning were twelve demons, twelve near omnipotent beings that ruled with ruthlessness and pure cruelty. They reigned unopposed over all dimensions until the day war broke among them, and that day the PTBs used the discord among their ranks to push them out of this world and several others. These twelve demons are the Archdemons and they are as old as this world itself, their existence shrouded in the same mystery."

"So were talking major bad, here."

"I'm afraid were way past that already. We're talking about twelve incarnations of evil itself, Buffy. There is simply nothing else; they are the end of the line. And one of them, in particular, has been obsessed with coming back to this world for the last thousand years."

"That would be that Amigo-zeus guy, right?"

"Archdemon Asmodeus, lord of lust and gambling. You see, a sort of Machiavellian peace now exists in Pandemonium, that would be their home dimension, 'Hell' if you prefer to call it that, though there are several other minor hell dimensions which…"

"Giles, you're doing the rambling thing."

"Sorry. Anyway, it seems Asmodeus is not well respected among his kind, and he very much wants to remedy that, notably by capturing earth. Such a feat would elevate his position among his peers, and so, he has been busying himself in the constructing of a gateway from which to launch himself and his armies into this world. The urgency of this situation lies in that, since we have just learned it is nearing completion."

"So I say we find the gate and we destroy it."

"The problem with that scenario is that the gate lies not on our side, but on his."

"I thought that was impossible. You said you needed a anchor in this world…"

"That's what we thought, but… you have to understand, this information took us by surprise, that's why the sudden emergency. We're talking about near-omnipotent beings. Who is to say what they can do and cannot do."

"Couldn't the information be wrong?" asked Xander.

"I'm afraid we can't take that chance, and so we are left with only one alternative. We will have to go to Pandemonium and destroy the gate."

"That's sounds like a suicide mission."

"Hit and run rather—we hope—but I won't lie, there is a distinct possibility. We will have to act very discreetly, discovery will most certainly mean death."

Buffy's shoulders slumped. She stared at the floor wondering what to say next, wondering if there was anything to say at all. It was a popular question at the moment, but nobody quite shared the relief she felt, as if a weight had been lifted off her chest rather than placed. Stuck in that moment, she believed for once, she heard eternity calling her name.

The smell of sulfur hung in the air, staining everything it caressed. The wind swept the ridge, carrying away red dust into a twisted darkening gloom that lurked somewhere down deep, where Dawn's eyes couldn't follow. She scratched her scalp, wiped her forehead; the terrible heat of the place assaulted all her senses.  Dawn wasn't afraid though, not of the perverse landscape, not of its dreadful inhabitants huddling in corners like starved predators. The demons were of all kind, most much more alien than what she was use to. They seemed terrible, and she did notice the looks they were given as they passed; the foreign looking monsters had more in mind then just simple nourishment, and they would have cursed their gods, if it had been wise to, for denying them that pleasure.

She wasn't afraid, because Faith was with her. Even though she was angry at her, scared even, in its own strange way, Faith's presence was reassuring to Dawn. Faith had been like a favorite aunt growing up, taking her places where Buffy would never have allowed, doing things that would have made Buffy or any self-respecting parents go berserk. Faith was every teenager's dream mentor, and in Dawn's case, she had became not only that but a best friend when her sister was too busy with Xander or her slaying. She knew Faith wouldn't hurt her, she knew she was safe as long as long she did what she was told, maybe even if she didn't, but for some other weird reason, she didn't feel like finding out. Dawn believed that this was her chance to redeem her friend, and if she had to risk death, torture and damnation, it was a small price to pay.

Meanwhile, trailing behind just a step, the raven-haired slayer didn't utter a word, staring out instead, at the perpetual dusk that clouded the sky. She hated the place, because it felt just like home.

"You ever get tired of betraying your friends?" Dawn's question woke Faith to a strange emotion.

"I thought I told you to be quiet."

"Hey, I'm probably going to die in the next few hours, and that's if I'm lucky. So, I'll chat your ear away if I want to, okay?"

Faith grunted and shook her head. Her tone went down a notch for a second, speaking in an unusual gentle voice. "Don't say that. You're going to be just fine."

"Yeah, maybe we can ask the guy who killed my sister what he thinks about that." If there was one thing that ticked off Dawn about the whole thing was Faith working for Asmodeus. She could forgive her friend's every sin, but this, she wasn't quite sure how to feel about yet.

"Listen," responded Faith, she sounded guilty, as if her mind had been running the same trial. "I didn't find out I was…"

"Who cares Faith? Who cares when you found out? You're not supposed to work for evil people period, not just the ones who are going to hurt my feelings. For Christ sakes Faith, you're kidnapping me, bringing me to hell, and apologizing as we go? Don't you understand how crazy this sound?"

"Listen lil' sis, nothing is going to happen to you, we just need you as bait for Xander, alright?"

"Yeah, that's much more saner Faith. 'Don't worry, I just want to kill one of your friends, not you, just the man I happen to be in love with."

Dawn was suddenly shoved forward. Her feet unable to keep up with the sudden momentum, Dawn landed violently on a pile of jagged rocks. She pulled herself up slowly, wincing from the small cuts all over her arms. Turning around with an angry look on her face, she found Faith stepping up to her with a furious look of her own.

"What? You want to get in my face, Dawn? I'm NOT in love with Xander!"

"That's what this is about, isn't it? You can't move on, so that's your way to deal with it. I mean, it makes sense, you kill him, you don't have to worry about having feelings for him, do you?"

With rage coursing through her veins, Faith's hand was granted a life of its own, and before the slayer knew it, it was wrapped around Dawn's throat. However, it did not squeeze. Faith jerked back in horror, terrified of what she had almost done. Immediately, her hand, limp but still attached to the younger woman, was slapped away by Dawn.

"Don't you touch me!" Dawn pushed Faith as hard as she could, but it was barely enough to make the slayer tip back. "You don't have the right to touch me!"

Faith didn't react to the attack, staring away instead at something distant, away from herself and the situation she had placed them in. Faith was so tired, so fed up with life and all the crap she put herself through. She barely knew why she was here, why she was placing the one person who had never hurt her in jeopardy. Perhaps it was the voice in the back of her mind, a desire for self-destruction, calling her to a destiny that should have been hers a long time ago. Something Buffy could never take away.

"What's the point of this?"

"What?" Dawn's outrage melted away. Faith seemed so grave and defeated that to lash out at her became futile.

"What's the point, you know what I am. I'm… I'm not your sister, Dawn."

"You're not supposed to be."

"Yeah…" Faith chuckled. "I don't think Xander would agree."

"Faith, c'mon, you know Xander loves you. He might not say it, but he likes you for who you are… maybe minus the evil, but still. Can't you see that's why he keeps pushing you away…"

"Love me?" Faith's head snapped up, her eyes almost shining with some reserved type of hope. "Did he say anything to you… I mean, screw that, you're… you know what, I appreciate what you're doing Dawn, but no."

"Faith, I love you. I love you as if you were my sister and I don't want to loose you anymore than I want to loose Xander. I'm not trying to trick you. I'm not playing a game. You don't have to do this, you don't have to be evil; you are better than that."

"No—no Dawn, I'm really not…" with another nervous chuckle, Faith raised her hands at the sulfur sky, "How much proof do you need? How much blood do I need on my hands before you get it through that thick Summers' head of yours? I like this. Hell, I love this!"

"No you don't, no matter how much you want to convince everybody of it."

"You don't know me!"

"I DO KNOW YOU!" Dawn suddenly launched herself forward. Faith, expecting an attack, turned her head away, but lowered her hands, offering herself as a target. She was surprised when Dawn wrapped her arms around her, pulling her into a tight, warm and suffocating embrace. It took a moment before Faith, hesitatingly reciprocated. "You're part of a family Faith. I know it's hard for you to believe that, but I don't care. I'm not taking no for an answer here. You, me and Xander."

"Yeah, a beautifully dysfunctional family."

"So, we're not perfect! Big deal! C'mon Faith, this is what families are supposed to be like. You hurt each other, you take each other for granted, and you mess up everything in the other people's lives. You scream, you yell, you fight, but underneath it, we all love and support each other. There's no white picket fence Faith, I'm sorry to be the one to tell you, but it doesn't exist. I'm not better than you are."

Faith hesitated. Her eyes were subtly hinting water as she pulled away from the hug. She still felt like fighting, like forcing Dawn to shut the hell up, making her eat her words. Faith struggled with herself, not knowing which side was which, not knowing if there were sides in the first place. In the end, there was no duality to her nature, just the pretense of one. Faith finally realized or rather came to term, with just how normal she really was.

"No—I'm not better than you." Faith walked away a few steps and turned back, wiping the tears from her face, acting as if she wasn't crying, though she couldn't stop. "I… I just want him to love me back so bad!"

"He does—just give him time to say it." Dawn watched quietly as Faith turned back around to compose herself. When she turned back, the tears were gone, but their ghost lived on in the red tracing her eyes, and the stains on her cheeks. "What do you say we get out of here, Faith, while we still can?"

Faith said nothing, looking back at Dawn as she carefully considered her answer.