Crucible interlude:
The Other Side of the Glass - Wesley





I don't know why I'm here. Actually, that's not true. I know exactly why I'm here. Because Angel could not make it. He was tied up with a rather stubborn demon, he said. I'm not sure if he meant that literally or not. It is difficult to tell with him, sometimes. Liam, the human, had his own brand of humor, Angelus another. Angel is still trying to find his footing there, I suspect. In humor, as with so much else.

Which leaves me here, still unsure I'm going through with it even as I push open the door and see here, waiting.

"Wes."

She looks...well. Not as strikingly beautiful, of course - prison has taken its toll. But the lack of makeup removes the aura of tawdriness she used as armor, makes her look - not more as a child, for no-one could ever mistake her as anything other than a woman - but more herself. The woman she could have been. Perhaps, the Slayer she could have been.

"You the sub for the day?" Her voice is mocking, still, but not dismissive. Angel had said she craved the contact... she cannot afford to drive me away, even if I am not the one she looked for.

And that thought gives me strength to continue. And a strange rush of... something -- affection? A strange, tender exasperation? -- that tempers my response.

"Angel was...unavoidably occupied," I tell her. Her dark eyes show understanding - difficult at best to speak of demons in public like this, under such scrutiny. Better to be cautious, to keep the demons metaphorical for this once.

"He okay?"

"He seemed to have everything under control."

She nods, taking that in. Then her eyes focus on me once again, and I am struck by the strength behind that gaze. "You didn't have to come. I would have survived."

"Sometimes, just surviving is the same as giving up." I'm not sure where those words come from. They certainly weren't what I had intended to say. "We expect more of you than that."

'We?" Her voice is questioning, only slightly challenging. "You and the Council?"

"Angel and I." No need to mention Cordelia, not when she still leaves the room when Faith's name is mentioned. "The Council and I have... parted ways."

"Yeah. I knew that. You weren't their cuppa, right? Not proper watcher material?" Her fist tightens around the phone she holds, and her dark haired head leans in closer to the glass, as though to impart a secret. Despite myself, I lean forward as well.

"Angel tells me I gotta face stuff, not shove it away for later, 'cause later usually stands you up in ugly ways. Wes...I'm sorry. For what I did - that was bad - but especially for what I said. B and I, we never gave you a chance, her 'cause she had Giles, and me - I wanted to be right with her, you know? But They -" and I can hear the Capital T in that word, and know who she refers to -"what they call important isn't. And taking away the name doesn't change anything - you are what you are 'cause you are. Same as me. You know that, don't you?"

Yes. Somewhere, in the back of my soul even as the Council stripped me of my rights and dignities, frail though they were, I knew that. What astonishes me is that Faith knows it as well. Perhaps, as Angel said, the woman she was meant to be - the Slayer she was meant to be - has not been lost at all. We all go through our own crucible. And if hers was so much hotter than ours, perhaps she will be that much purer for it?

Faith leans back, suddenly exhausted-looking. "Man, I gotta stop doing that. All this truth and healing stuff, it's tiring, you know?"

Yes. I know.