Iris

And I’d give up forever to touch you,
Cuz I know that you feel me somehow,
You’re the closest to heaven that I’ll ever be,
And I don’t want to go home right now.

I couldn’t leave, not for a while, anyway. After Buffy had left, once again putting her own feelings in front of the person who was really in pain, I stayed. Buffy’s always been selfish, but what she said to me, I couldn’t believe those words could come from my ex-love’s lips. She forgot, forgot me, our love. But, dwell upon that later. After I got over the initial shock of her callousness to, not only me, but Faith as well. She couldn’t understand that Faith might actually be in more pain than dear blonde Buffy could even imagine. To have done the things she had done, to live with it.

Ah, Faith. How I know your pain, how I understand it. In my arms, holding on for comfort, never before had I felt love that strongly. Hushing her, brushing my fingers against her soft, chestnut hair, never did I want to take her face in my hands and kiss those puckered, quivering lips, as much as I felt that then. And her face, flushed with fear, of what she was, what she’d become, I knew all of that. Together, we were perfectly matched, we knew, understood each other in a way no one, especially Buffy could fathom.

Besides, Buffy had moved on, with her knew boyfriend who could give her all the things I couldn’t, all the things I warned her she would want, he was different, she "trusted" him. And then she barged in, to "protect" me, to seek revenge on the dark slayer. And then when I tried to thwart her addleminded pursuit of Faith, she was surprised that I didn’t roll over, take the hits, and be the lap dog she trained me to be.

And all I can taste is this moment,
And all I can breathe is your life,
And sooner or later it’s over,
I just don’t want to miss you tonight.

Faith, she was hurting so much, but I’d never seen her cry before. I doubt anyone ever had. And she was probably the most admirable of us, seeking redemption just when nearly everyone had turned against her. The truth of the matter is, I wouldn’t have the strength to have done it, turn myself in. That took effrontery. But she must have known she could find peace there. The soft, near hidden grin of relief washed her face as the lock slid into place. Maybe she will find that serenity of soul I’m still seeking, and if there is any god, or higher power dedicated to the balance of the cosmic scale, she will find it, heaven, nirvana, bliss, whatever it is that she seeks.

She is a unique creature though, a true siren by all means. Such depth in those beguiling brown eyes, such beauty. How poignant and remorseful they could be at times. Back in Sunnydale, before we knew about her and the mayor, she came to me:

"I’m in trouble. The real bad kind."

"It’s okay, start from the beginning."

"Can I skip past the Mom never loved me part and get right to it."

That wasn’t an act, not the pain anyway. I could see it in her eyes; such distance makes you wise to these things. The brown orbs were full of the grief she had carried around forever. I knew she guessed it wasn’t Angelus when I "turned", she touched me with less force than I knew she was capable of. When we made love afterwards—waiting for the night when I could leave and we could go to the mayor and introduce her new "pet"— it was just that, making love. I touched her gently, sliding fingers lightly across her back, and she kissed with intensity, but not fierceness. She must have known. And when I thrust up into her, she whimpered "Angel" and not "Angelus." God, I felt so connected then, so human, so fulfilled.

So, why didn’t I lose my soul? Good question. I guess maybe the little redhead witch, Willow, gave me my soul permanently. Or maybe I just wasn’t in love with the brunette, just feeling the pleasure of connecting and relating and feeling. Maybe that’s all it was, all it was supposed to be.

And you can’t fight the tears that ain’t coming,
Or the moment of truth in your lies,
When everything feels like the movies,
You bleed just to know you’re alive.

I knew before she wasn’t what she wanted everyone to perceive her to be: Bad Ass Slayer with a lust for killing and screwing. She was too soft, her face wasn’t hard enough to be just that. And her eyes had such warmth, such delicate roan color. She held such depth, such intelligence that no one would recognize. But I could read her so easily. Maybe because I was just like her. Her fear, nothing in her life existed but anger and fear and hate, and the trampling of her footprints in snow were covered immediately, leaving not trace. Just like her, she felt, she thought that nothing she did could ever mean anything. That’s why she joined the mayor. That’s what she told me when I looked into her eyes and asked the mental question. Mind reading is sometimes a plus in vampirism.

When we fought that night she took Wesley, she passed to me everything through the link I’d created, from Boston, to Sunnydale, to LA. She must have had some telepathic ability herself, Slayers often did. She told me she knew she was going to die young, even without the Slayer bit added into the equation. She said, "Hell will probably welcome me anyway. I’ll probably know a lot of people there too." She passed me the images. Flashes of perspective, fragments of voices:

"Faith, No!" (Buffy)

"You killed a man." (Buffy)

"I don’t care." (Faith)

"This is your day, yours to blossom…" (Mayor Wilkins)

"You don’t give up do you?" (Faith)

"Not on my friends, no." (Buffy)

"The truth is, without me, your days…well, they’re just numbered." (Mayor Wilkins)

"You can trust us Faith, it’s not too late…" (Angel)

"It’s way too late. You know it didn’t have to be this way, but you made your choice. I know you had a tough life. I know some people think you’ve had a lot of tough breaks. Well, boo hoo! Poor You!"(Willow)

"So you’ll still need me in there." (Faith)

"Always." (Mayor Wilkins)

"You did it B. You killed me." (Faith)

Then she dropped, screaming "Just do it, just kill me." And then I heard the clang of glass against the pavement, and I saw Wesley. She collapsed into my arms, and I hated how much I loved it.

Then my apartment, then Buffy, then the council. And she survived… and triumphed. Yeah, I could admire her, and love her.

THE END