Je me souviens

Man, I was sure I could finish Ginger Snap, but then I got distracted and came back here. I'm weird like that. Ah well. Onwards, my friends. For the honour and glof Rof Rome.


Part 3


*

Giles hung up the phone at the nurse's station as Buffy and Faith approached. Buffy raised her eyebrows at him. He sighed and studied Faith as he spoke. "I've called your mother, Buffy, and informed her that we're on our way."

"How'd she take it?" Buffy asked. She tried not to look at Faith as she asked. Mom didn't know the whole story where Faith was concerned. After Angel left, Buffy didn't want to talk to anyone about it. Willow and Xander were happy forgetting Faith, too, if for different reasons.

"She seemed eager to help," Giles said. "Riley said he had to go, but that he would call you later. Are you ready?"

Buffy shrugged. Faith crossed her arms and looked away. Neither of them answered.

"I'll bring the car around," Giles said. "Faith, I've arranged for a wheelchair for you, if you like."

Faith blinked. "I don't need--"

Giles cleared his throat. "Yes, well, hospital policy or somesuch...You can come with me. Buffy will meet us outside in a moment."

Buffy opened her mouth to protest, but Giles always had his reasons. She glanced down the hall.der der and Willow waited in the lounge. Anya watched The Price Is Right and ignored their whispered argument. "Right," Buffy said. "I'll be right there."

She headed for the uncomfortable-looking orange plastic chairs. Xander looked up as she sat down. Willow glared at the floor.

"Listen, you guys..."

"Buffy, we don't really wanna listen," Xander said. "We know what you're gonna say. Redemption. Second chances. Nurse Buffy to the rescue...possibly wearing some sort of naughurseurse uniform..."

Anya swatted Xander without looking away from Bob Barker estimating the cost of a toaster oven.

"I mean." Xander shrugged and waved his hands. "Faith has tried to kill us both. If that's not enough to pursuade you she's bad news, then we're not in the mood for you to convince us she's a little kitten up a tree."

Buffy leaned back. "And when people try to kill my friends I usually kill them right back," she said. Willow hadn't been this quiet for this long since the first day they'd met. "But--"

"There's always a 'but' with Faith," Willow burst out.

"No kidding," Xander said, leering.

It earned him another swat from Anya.

"Buffy, she's gonna remember some time, and how safe are we gonna be once she does?" Willow asked. "You aren't going to get a nicely engraved RSVP saying, oh, hey, turns out I hate you, try not to get murdered in your sleep. You're taking her home with you. To your mom! You can't watch her all the time and you can't trust her, amnesia or not."

"You're right." Buffy shrugged when they both looked up, surprised. "Of course you're right. But you also know there's nothing else we can do. She's...well, I put her in here. I mean, she killed two people, and threatened a whole bunch, but I'm the one who stabbed her and tried to feed her to Angel."

Xander sighed and looked at Willow. Buffy met Willow's eyes, seeing the hurt there. "I just--I can't forget that," she said, trying to explain. "Faith's my problem."

"You've got a great big Faith-shaped hole in your brain," Willow said. "You're shoveling guilt in there trying to fill it, but that's not going to help. It's not up to you to fix what she did wrong."

Buffy stood up. "I'm not," she said. "I'm trying to fix what I did wrong. Will..." Buffy held out her hands hopelessly. "I'll be by later to get some stuff. Maybe we can talk about Adam?"

"Yeah, number one hacker on the job," Willow muttered.

Buffy wanted to say something to help, but they were--all three of them--stuck in this trap of taking their own side. She didn't know how to get out of the hole she'd dug. They didn't understand how she felt about Faith. Buffy wasn't sure she understood it herself. Faith was a responsibility Buffy didn't need, but Buffy owed her; and, more than that, she wanted to help her. She wanted Faith to find herself, so that they could talk or fight or whatever they needed to figure out how something that had been so good had gone so wrong.

So, instead, Buffy left them and went out front. Giles pulled up in his old car, with Faith in the front seat. Buffy climbed into the back. Giles met her eyes in the rearview mirror, but Buffy could only shrug. Willow andder der would come around eventually...or else Faith would prove them right. Buffy could only hope it would be the former.

Giles made some 'aheming' noisn hin his throat, but he couldn't seem to settle on a conversation opener. Buffy stared out the window, trying to see Sunnydale as Faith was--for the first time. It looked small.

The ride to her mom's house was a short one, and Buffy was glad to escape the car. Mom came out to meet them.

"Faith, honey!" she said, running down the steps and enfolding Faith in a hug.

"Um...hi," Faith said, blinking at Buffy over her mom's shoulder.

"I'm Joyce, Buffy's mom." She peered into Faith's eyes. "Oh, honey, I'm so sorry...but at least you're awake now! I've been worried about you."

Faith smiled. "Thanks. I guess." She murmured, "You're the first," and raised an eyebrow at Buffy.

Buffy pretended to ignore the remark, as if she didn't have the same sensitive hearing as Faith.

"Well, come on in, all of you," Mom said, herding them inside.

"I'll show Faith my room," Buffy said. She didn't want to get her mom on more of a nursing kick than she already was. They left Giles and Mom talking in the kitchen. "We can only hope Mom's not using it for storage space," she said, climbing the stairs. "If there are crates, I'm carrying them all straight down to the living room."

Faith laughed behind her. Buffy had to remind herself that Faith didn't know she was talking literally. It wasn't time to let the whole super-strength thing slip. Maybe, in a day or two...or after Faith had picked up a car by accident...

Buffy sigand and led the way into her room. It was, mercifully, crate-free. "Home sweet home," she said.

Faith nodded, her fingers hooked in her belt loops. "So, Buffy...when do I get the full story?"

Buffy bit her lip. "What do you mean?"

"I'm talking about your friends." Faith entered the room and examined the pictures on the shelves. "Red and Xander look like they're gonna faint if I even look at them wrong. It makes me want to sneak up on them and yell 'Boo!'"

"Don't do that!" Buffy said.

Faith turned around and grinned at her. "Aw, come on. Just to see the looks on their faces. I'd let you watch."

Buffy tried to glare at her repressively, but she found she couldn't quite hide an answering grin. It would be pretty funny. She didn't know whether she'd bet on Willow or Xander to have the girliest shriek. It wouldn't help them to trust Faith at all. In fact, it would probably make things worse. But they were both wound so tight as it was... She chuckled despite herself. "Okay, it would be funny. But don't do it."

"Fine, fine." Faith waved the idea away. "But don't try to tell me you've never had an uncontrollable urge--you knew something was wrong, but you just wanted to do it anyway."

Buffy shrugged. She wasn't going to think about her uncontrollable urges. She'd always been good at ignoring them, and then forgetting them. She didn't want to dig up all her old urges. Especially not to tell Faith. Time to change the subject. "Why do you call her Red?" she asked.

Faith blinked. "'Cause I don't know her name. Nobody's said it yet."

"Oh." Buffy blushed. If she was going to buy the amnesia story, she couldn't get caught up thinking of Faith as the person she'd known for months. She felt bad for not doing introductions. "Her name is Willow."

Faith nodded. "And you're warning me that she wants me to call her by name. Why? What's wrong with Red?"

"You used to call her Red. You were pretty big on nicknames."

Faith seemed to digest that piece of information. "I was, huh?" She sat down on the bed, picking up Mr. Gordo and hugging him. She smiled a bit at the stuffed pig. "I bet I had a great one for you."

Buffy blushed harder. Was that a hint of Faith's old banter? "No, not at all."

Faith's smile widened. She set Mr. Gordo aside. Her eyes were sparkling. She hadn't lost any of her teasing instincts. She sensed a weak spot, and she was going to exploit it. "Oh, yeah, I did. I called you something and you hated it." She tilted her head. Confusion clouded her face. "Or else--"

Buffy raised an eyebrow. "Or else what?" She wondered again how much of Faith's memory loss was an act. Her confusion seemed real, and nobody had ever accused her of being any good at lying. Faith was too open with her emotions to be a cncinncing actress.
Faith shook her head. "Nothing." The smile came back. "I don't know if I'll remember it, but I can probably guess it. You'll tell me if I'm right?"

Buffy started to protest, then stopped. It wouldn't hurt, and maybe it would help Faith to get her memory back if she exercised it. "Okay. But I'll tell you right now, it wasn't Rumplestiltskin."

"Damn, there goes my first guess." Faith lay back on the bed, folding her arms behind her head. Her shirt pulled up as she did, exposing her toned stomach...and the scar. "So are these my digs now, or what?" Faith asked, but Buffy wasn't listening.

She was reliving that moment eight months ago. The feeling of sharp steel sliding into skin hadn't truly left her hand in all that time.

"Buffy?"

"What?"

Faith sat up and pulled her shirt down. "Listen, I'm not--I mean, I have no idea if we ever--"

Buffy frowned when Faith didn't finish her sentence. "What are you talking about?" she asked. She pulled her mind away from the memory of Faith's eyes, brimming with pain, as she let herself fall. Buffy had felt as if she'd been stabbed herself, when she saw Faith plummet from the roof.

"I'm not gonna sleep in here, am I?"

"No, we have a guest bedroom..." Buffy pointed vaguely. Why was Faith blushing?

"Okay. Great. Because...I'm kinda tired." Faith jumped up from the bed. "I'm gonna check it out. I'll...see ya."

Buffy watched her go, then picked up Mr. Gordo. All this tip-toeing around the truth was not going to help once Faith started to remember. She didn't want Giles giving Faith the facts of life--he'd probably pull out the "One girl in all the world" speech. And Xander and Willow were both too bitter to want to help. It would be up to her...if only she could figure out how.

*

The guest bedroom was small. A double bed and a dresser took most of the floor space. Faith sat down on the bedspread and bounced a bit. There was too much art on the walls, a weird mixture of tribal African masks and impressionist paintings. Faith lay back on the bed. She wished she still had Buffy's pig to hold. She wished she had someone to talk to who didn't hate her, or expect her to know stuff, or who made her stomach do flipflops. Buffy did all three. Faith wasn't really tired, but she couldn't stay in Buffy's room. The way Buffy stared at her made her want to squirm. Faith didn't remember herself. The person who woke up in that hospital room wasn't her. But she knew she didn't like being out of control. Buffy's stare ripped up her certainty and threw the pieces all over the place. Of everyone she'd met, Faith knew Buffy the most--and the least. Both, at the same time. Faith felt like they could talk about anything and she would know what Buffy's opinion was before she said it. Then, something would happen. A wall would crash down, and Buffy would be a stranger just like the rest of them.

A stranger who lied to her. The car-crash story sounded less likely with every passing moment. Faith slipped a hand under the white tank top the hospital had kept for her. A single cut in the material matched the scar in her stomach. She wriggled her fingers through the hole. The bloodstains had been bleached away, mostly, but the cut remained. One hole, as if the shirt had been sliced by a very sharp knife.

Like the knife in her dreams.

Faith squeezed her eyes closed. Each dream was the same. She was hunted by someone carrying that knife, and she was stabbed, and she died, and the thunderstorm washed her blood away.

There was a knock at the door and Faith was on her feet before she could think. She stared at her hands. She was holding them up, curled in loose fists. Her weight was balanced on the balls of her feet. She felt like she could jump in any direction, defend herself from any attack. Her heartbeat thrummed, faster than usual, and her breathing deepened, but her mind was calm and alert. She had never felt so ready for anything. She forced herself to relax. It was only Buffy standing outside the door.

"Come in," she said. She lowered her hands and sat on the bed.

Buffy opened the door. Faith took a deep breath and released it. How had she known it was Buffy? Her skin tingled, and she absently brushed the small hairs on her arms so that they lay flat. Buffy stayed in the doorway. She held out a jumble of clothes.

"I got you some stuff to wear," she said. "It's not a lot. You're too tall for most of my clothes. We can go shopping tomorrow if you want."

Faith took the pile. It was mostly t-shirts and sweats. Still, anything would be better than the skin-tight leather pants and sliced tank top. Most of all, it meant something that Buffy was genuinely offering to help her buy clothes tomorrow. Maybe the bitchiness was only an act. "Thank you," she said.

"Yeah. Well." Buffy scuffled a foot on the carpet. "Is this okay?"

Faith dumped the clothes on the bed. "The room? It's fine. The art's a little..." She shrugged. "I don't know. Not my style? Am I supposed to know what my style is?"

Buffy leaned back against the door jamb. She studied the walls. "No. It's not your style." Her lips twitched as if she was laughing at a private joke. "Definitely not your style."

Faith frowned. Buffy was so confident about what she liked and didn't like. Buffy thought she knew Faith better than she did herself. "Maybe it is. Now. I could change."

Buffy glanced at her for the first time since she'd come in. Her eyes sparkled with laughter. "So you're going to start collecting Waziri war masks and Group of Seven landscapes?"

"Well..." Faith tried to look serious, but Buffy's attempt to hide her smile was putting a dent in the effort. "You don't know. I could."

Buffy nodded, pursing her lips to hold in her laughter. "Okay, I'll keep it in mind. No more Dingoes CDs for you."

Faith nearly asked, "Do I like Dingoes CDs?" but stopped herself. It wasn't fair that everyone assumed they knew what kind of person she was. The kind of person who liked nicknames but not art, the kind of person everybody hated and feared and had secrets from. The kind of person whose body knew how to fight, whose body wanted to fight. She leaned back against the headboard. Buffy stayed in the hallway.

"You wanna come in?" she asked. "You can."

Buffy shrugged. "It's weird having you here."

Faith snorted. "Because you hate me."

"I don't--"

Faith raised an eyebrow at her.

Buffy hugged herself and looked down. "I don't."

Faith thought about the way Buffy's eyes had lingered on her body when her shirt rucked up. The way she blushed when she talked about Faith's old nickname for her. The way Faith could tell Buffy was lying when she said she didn't feel the sweet tingle every time they touched. Maybe Buffy didn't hate her. Maybe it was something else entirely.

Buffy could have been in love with her. They could have been girlfriends, or exes, or something. It was a weird idea, but not a freaky one. Faith considered it, half-squinting at Buffy as if she could focus hard enough to make the memories come back. Buffy was attractive, no doubt. Blonde hair falling in little tendrils around her face, most of it caught up in a messy ponytail. Bright green eyes, gorgeous smile, cute nose. Killer body. And there were the tingles. The shivery goodness of her presence. As if Buffy being there was all it took to make everything okay. Like they were stronger together. They could take anyone on, any odds, any fight, and come out on top.

And, out of everybody, Buffy was the one familiar face. Maybe because Faith had known her better? Loved her, even?

Yeah, and maybe she'd really been in a car accident. Unlikely.

"So...how did we meet?" Faith asked. Who was she to Buffy? Just a friend? How did anyone become enemies--real, true-to-life nemesises...nemeses...arch-enemies--with a college student?

Buffy squinched up her face at the question, but she swayed a foot or two into the room. "Meet?"

"Yeah. Meet. Y'know, you, me, first impressions. And stop hovering, you're making me nervous."

Buffy made an incredulous sound. "I make you...? Never mind." She hesitated for a moment longer, then walked in to the room and sat down. "It was at this club, the Bronze. You were dancing with this guy, and, uh, he looked like bad news, so when you left with him I followed you. And, he was. But you took care of him, and then, we were sort of standing there. So...that's it. That's when we met."

Faith nodded. "Did I do that a lot?"

Buffy blinked. "Dance? All the time. We...I mean, it's one of your favourite things."

"I meant, pick up bad-news guys." Faith knew she sounded angry. The more she got to know about herself, the less she liked who she was. The girl Buffy was talking about was an irresponsible slut. Was she really that girl?

Buffy didn't answer right away. And that made it worse.

"Fuck, Buffy, I'm trying to find out who I am, y'know? Okay? Could you just answer the question?"

Buffy picked at the bedspread. "Okay. Yes. You picked up guys a lot." She looked up. "But that's--that's not who you were, you know? Not to m--not to us."

"Right." Faith drew up her legs and hugged her knees, drawing into herself. If she picked up guys all the time, it kind of dismissed the in-love-with-Buffy theory. Except it was a theory she didn't really want to let go of. "Cleavagey and slutty. Psychotic murderer. Evil. That's what I am to your friends."

Buffy looked like she was going to cry. Tough shit. Little guilty looks and regret weren't going to cut it. Faith wanted to know why she was being lied to. Why Buffy was lying to her. And she was going to push her until she found out.

"You were a lot more than that," Buffy said. They were both uncomfortable now, sitting on opposite ends of the bed, not looking at each other.

A lot more than that. Faith shot a quick glance at Buffy. Was she just imagining it when Buffy sounded angry--almost jealous--about the guys she'd picked up? In the hospital, everyone had implied that Faith had hurt Buffy, badly. Her, specifically, more than anyone else. But Willow and Xander were the ones who wangrangriest. Buffy just looked upset, like she wanted to solve this problem but didn't know how.

"This is not fucking fair," Faith said calmly, finally, after they'd sat in silence for too long. "The way you're all treating me."

Buffy's eyebrows raised. "Because I'm supposed to be ready for this? After eight months?"

"At least you had those eight months." Faith tapped her skull. "And now I don't even have whatever life I did before. Not like that's your fault,--" --"

Buffy flushed again, her eyes darting away.

Scared. And...guilty?

Faith stared at her. Car crash, her ass. Buffy was trying to cover up and sucking at it. "But did I do anything, one fucking thing, wrong since I been here?"

"No," Buffy whispered. "But I can't forget..."

"And I can't remember. So maybe you could try telling me the fucking truth, Buffy."

Buffy shook her head.

"Unless you really do hate me. Unless this is supposed to be payback."

Buffy opened her mouth, closed it again, then got off the bed and retreated to the doorway.

"I wasn't in a car crash," Faith said to her back.

Buffy whirled around, her eyes wide. "You do remember," she said.

Faith frowned at her, feeling her hands fist almost against her will. She wanted to punch something. Someone. She wanted to fight. "No. But you pretty much just told me I'm right. So are you gonna tell me what really happened?"

Buffy backed up a step, into the hallway. "I just came to give you the clothes. I have to go."

Faith felt empty inside, hollow and hurting. No memories. No friends. She stayed where she was. "You're lying to me," she said. "All of you. Giles. The hospital. Your friends."

Buffy shook her head, denying it, but even she didn't seem convinced. Faith figured it would make sense to be angry about it, but instead she just felt sad. She turned away and looked out the window. Buffy stood outside the room for a minute longer. Once or twice Faith heard her start to k, bk, but in the end, she walked away.


*

To be continued.