All the charcters in this are © Joss Whedon. I'm just messing with some fictional characters lives for kicks. *g*
Up to Season 6, Dead Things. Big spoilers for that!
Faith's POV
Just keep walking. Don't turn around. I know if I turn back. If I look at her one more time, I'll do something that I'll regret later.
I focus on the door ahead. Trying to suppress all the emotions building in me. Can feel my right hand shaking where it's clenched so tightly into a fist at my side. Putting all my effort into showing no emotion.
Never show emotion. It's a lesson you learn very quick in here. If you come in and show anything, it's a sign of weakness. The one thing that all the inmates are looking for. The fresh meat looking for an easy mark. Figuring throwing down will get them some slack. Then you have the lifers. The ones the guards are even wary of. Checking all the newbies to see if they want to stake a claim.
Show nothing. I had that down before I got here. Before the van even pulled up inside the gates. Had years of practice. I'm a pro at shutting down. Now, it's taking every drop of will power to hold my walls. To keep my expression blank. I don't turn around as the door to the cells opens. This is the way it should be. The way it has to be.
Instead of heading to my cell, I hit the gym. Thinking is the last thing I want to do right now. Don't want to see the memories...Old and new. Only one other inmate in here. I watch as she takes one look at me before leaving. Guess I don't have a blank expression after all. Seeing Buffy just brought up all...Ok, focus Faith.
I start to run through my usual warm up. Even here, in my relaxation time, I have routines. Same circuit every time. Never being able to really let go and use my full strength. Don't want to draw attention to myself. Too much risk of becoming a target. Being seen as a threat to be taken out. So I always keep it controlled. The one thing I've learnt in here...Control.
Moving to the weight bench my mind starts to drift. Back to the meeting with Buffy. Back to my time in Sunnydale.
It could have all been so different. A few different choices and maybe I'd have got a happy ending. No use thinking about that. It's all in the past. No changing it now. I made my choices and now I have to live with them. Even if I regret them.
Having spent so long being alone, taking a chance on someone was a huge risk. Took it with my watcher and that just served to make me more wary. Then there was Sunnydale. I stayed by your side. Fought with you. I would have done anything for you. In the end I was living a lie. I spent all my time trying to be someone I wasn't.
Then it came to the time I needed you and you left me. Blamed me. Only later coming to offer support. Too late. Your words had no real substance. You didn't understand then and you don't understand now. All the times you said I could trust you. Rely on you. You had no clue what that did to me. To hear you say these things but not really mean them.
I knew then that it was all going wrong. That I should have just walked away. Never could though.
I move to the punch bag. Still holding back. Physically and mentally. Don't want all those thoughts, all those emotions surfacing. Once they do, I have no idea if I could ever stop them. But seeing you today. Hearing you apologise to me. Claming to understand. Still not recognising what your words do to me.
I hate the fact that you can do this to me. Even after all this time. Just one little visit. I never wanted you to apologise to me. I never wanted you to ask for my forgiveness. Never wanted you to cry for me. I just wanted you to let me be. So long I'd kept it all hidden but you had to come along. Come back into my life, just one more time.
For the first time in years I really let loose. Release all the pain. All the anger. All the strength. Hitting the punch bag with everything. Seeing the faces of all the people that have hurt me. My mom. Various guys. The mayor. Buffy. Me.
Years of bottling everything up. It all led to this moment. Every image that flashes brings a new wave of hatred. A new wave of pain. Until it's all just too much. I can feel the sweat dripping down my face. I know I should stop. My vision clouded by a fog. Through the fog I can see images of my future. Of the pain yet to come.
That's when I realise it. No matter what I do, I lose. The pain just grows. Consuming me. Until I can't face it anymore. I feel my knees give way and I fall to the floor. No longer hitting the punch bag but clinging to it. My head resting against it. That's when I realise. It wasn't sweat running down my face...It was tears.
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