Chapter Text
Faith thinks it’s a bit strange that, save for Angel, all her closest relationships started on one piece of common ground: an overwhelming urge to flee Sunnydale.
Jenny was the first, opening her arms to a confused and bitter teenage girl fleeing the broken remains of the first friendship anybody had ever tried to start with her. Angel may have been the one to save her that first night, the one to keep her on the path to redemption, but Jen had been the one to get Faith to do any real opening up by using their mutual avoidance of Southern California’s Hellmouth as an opening line.
Cordelia had been the next, although much slower. To be fair, the distrust that comes from watching someone become a murderer takes a while to work through. What gives them common ground is a mutual distaste for the way they were treated, expended once they had fallen out of favor of the core group. Cordelia may not be her closest friend, but there’s an understanding between her and Faith, banter tossed back and forth with dulled barbs and soft edges.
There’s Tara, too, which might be the friendship Faith expected the least. After all, they had only met once prior, long after Faith had fallen off her pedestal and onto the path of attempting to destroy Buffy Summers in a platonic (and definitely not heartbroken) sort of way. She’s pretty sure she hadn’t left the greatest impression, but not only does Tara come to Los Angeles scarred, she comes forgiving. It certainly doesn't hurt that Tara seems to be even more wary of Sunnydale than Faith.
(Getting shot must trump getting stabbed in the grand scheme of things.)
Even her friendship with Oz, to an extent, was included. While he didn’t seem to harbor the same avoidance for the Hellmouth as they did, Oz hadn’t been back to Sunnydale once since his most recent trip to Tibet. As far as Faith knew, he hadn’t been anywhere except Los Angeles since returning to the States, unless it was for some mission he picked up from Angel Investigations.
Maybe it was the shared avoidance that bonded them, at least to start, but maybe not. After all, it seemed a little far-fetched to attribute it all to just one town, especially considering that the more the days passed, the less they thought about it. After all, she certainly wasn’t thinking of Sunnydale when Jen needled her about her eating habits, or when Tara braided her hair over old reruns of Jeopardy.
Bless the broken road and all that, but Faith cares a hell of a lot more about where they are now than where they came from at this point.
Maybe that’s why the Hellmouth comes knocking.
—
Over three years into her time with Angel and company, Faith is pretty used to jet-setting off on last minute missions. There’s always something that needs to be taken care of, or something else that needs to be stopped. Working her path to redemption has taken her to some interesting places, but up until now, she’s been grateful to be able to avoid Sunnydale.
Emphasis on the up-until-now .
Re-ensouling Angel takes Willow’s help, although Faith is already frolicking around with Angelus in her magical drug-induced coma by the time the redhead shows up. She only catches a glimpse of the other girl between shooting out of bed and going to the basement to pound the shit out of Connor.
(Look, she’s been trying to be patient with his whole tortured-daddy-issues shtick, but she’s tired .)
After the crisis is averted, Connor’s attempt at patricide has been calmed, and Angel’s given her both his apologies and his thanks, Faith finds herself alone with Willow on the balcony. The redhead hesitates once it’s just the two of them, and when she opens her mouth, Faith swears she can hear the babble whirling up in the back of her throat.
“So, there’s sort of an apocalypse brewing in Sunnydale,” she starts. “Some guy on a crusade to end the slayer line. You know, killing potential slayers, then getting rid of you and Buffy, etcetera. I, uh, am guessing maybe you might’ve been attacked recently?”
Faith shrugs, hopping up to sit on the fence. “I’m kind of in a dangerous line of work, if you haven’t noticed. Getting attacked isn’t an out of the ordinary occurrence for me.”
“Right,” Willow says, deflating, before she seems to puff back up. “Well, I’m guessing there’s gonna be more. I don’t mean to be all 'doom and gloom, your life’s in danger,' but… we’ve got some doom, some gloom, and your life might actually be in danger. Is in danger, really. The whole world kinda is.”
Willow hesitates, and Faith glances over at the other girl. She’s not an idiot, after all; she knows where this conversation is heading. Now that Faith’s all reformed and not dangerous, she’s about to be re-conscripted back into Buffy’s little Scooby Gang as their latest meat shield. At least, that’s what Willow’s going to ask.
She knows that, technically, she has the ability to say no. If anybody said otherwise, Jen and the rest of the team would have plenty to say about it. What Faith knows more than that, though, is that there’s no way she’s actually going to say no.
(Fuck, she hates the idea of going back to Sunnydale.
Then again, she hates the idea of the world ending a bit more.)
Oblivious to Faith’s internal musings, Willow opens her mouth to speak again, but the brunette cuts her off. “You can save your breath,” she says. “Yadda yadda, ‘apocalypse’ this and ‘two slayers are better than one’ that. You want me to come back to Sunnydale, yeah?”
Willow freezes in place before she nods. “Yeah,” she echoes. “I was kinda hoping you would.”
Silence falls between them. For a long moment, nobody speaks, and the quiet night air washes over them. Faith closes her eyes and takes a moment to breathe it in, like it’s her last gasp of Los Angeles. The longer she lets it sit, however, the antsier Willow seems to get, until the witch is shifting from foot to foot.
Faith sighs, opening her eyes to glance over at Willow. “I’ll come, Red, calm down,” she says, watching the tension melt out of the other girl at the words. “Long as Angel can spare me after our oh-so-emotional reunion, that is.”
She gets a grin in return for the joke. It’s a bit shaky on the edges, but she doesn't really care enough to try for anything more: half because she has to go pack and half because she honestly doesn't have an interest in placating Willow. Sure, she doesn't have anything personal of her own against Willow, but that doesn't mean she wants to be best friends with her. After all, Tara has something personal against Willow, and for Faith, that’s as good as personal these days. Maybe even moreso; Buffy stabbed her on a rooftop and it doesn't get her nearly as heated as the thought of Willow poking around in Tara’s memories as she decides what is and isn’t worth it for the blonde to keep.
Willow spends the next few minutes filling in the basic details. It’s a complicated web of evil entities and teenage girls with the potential to be slayers, from the sound of it. In all honesty, Faith isn’t paying that much attention. She understands her role in this: she’s a weapon, to be aimed in the direction of whatever they need taken care of. It isn’t a job that needs intimate knowledge of the situation, just a decent set of sharp objects and the ability to get done what needs to be done.
Faith has both of those in spades.
When Willow seems satisfied with the information she’s dispensed, Faith jumps off from the railing she’s perched on and pushes the door to the hotel open. The rest of the group is still milling about in the lobby, filling Angel in on the various things he’s missed while he was soulless. There isn’t much to talk about considering that they were all pretty laser-focused on turning Angelus back into Angel, but Cordelia is weaving a surprisingly interesting story about some potential client call from a few days back.
“So then, she asks me if I can send somebody out to investigate today. But we’re all, you know, tracking down Angel’s salty little soul, so we’re a bit busy. So I tell her, ma’am, I don’t think we can do anything for the next few days, at least. But then she says—”
Faith clears her throat after a minute of listening to Cordelia go on. The other girl stops in the middle of her sentence as most of the room turns, their attention drawn. Under their gazes, Faith gives a wry smile, clapping her hands together in front of her.
“So, here’s the sitch,” she says. “Sunnydale’s got its newest apocalypse, spearheaded by some slayer-hating dope. Seeing as that’s my bloodline and all, I’m gonna head back with Red and help out.”
For a few seconds, the room lapses into a stunned silence. It’s no secret that Faith, like many other members of Angel Investigations, harbors a strong dislike for Sunnydale. The last thing most of them expect is for her to willingly walk into the belly of the beast.
Except for Angel, of course. When she meets his eyes, there’s no surprise or apprehension. They both know why Faith is doing this; her road to redemption up to this point has been long and challenging, but it’s never really ended. It’s more of a path that she continues to follow.
Saving Sunnydale, despite her aversions, makes sense as the next logical step. She’d be kind of a dick to refuse. It’s a little bit of a relief, that Angel understands. He won’t try to stop her.
The same cannot be said for the others, and Jen is the first one to speak up.
“Are you sure?”
Faith shrugs. “Saving the world doesn't seem like a hard decision to make,” she replies. In response, Jen levels her with a look .
“Faith,” she warns, tone weighted. Beside her, Oz sits on the counter of the front desk, and Tara leans against it next to him, her arms folded over her chest. Like Jenny, the two of them are both studying her. There’s a growing tension in the air between the four of them, considering the way both Jen and Tara are staring at her. At least Oz’s eyes still seem gentle.
Cordelia, after a moment, huffs. “You hate Sunnydale,” she points out, tone accusing.
“Yeah, but I kinda like the world,” Faith replies. “Sure, the place is a little fucked up, but it ain’t like we got anywhere else to go. Plus, the latest big bad is gunning for all the slayers, me included. Makes it just a bit personal.”
Tara tries next. “You don’t—”
“I do,” Faith replies, her joking tone giving way to something firm. “I do have to.”
The blonde frowns. “You didn’t let me finish.”
“You can’t talk me out of this one, T.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
Jen glances over at the two as if she’s picking up on Tara’s train of thought. “Willow, what exactly are you all dealing with?”
The redhead startles, as if she wasn’t expecting to be addressed. “Well, it’s pretty apocalypse-y,” she answers. “Demons, a supernatural cult, that sort of thing. You know, your usual end-of-the-world at the Hellmouth stuff. Plus the first evil entity in the universe trying to eradicate Buffy and Faith as well as every potential slayer in the world.”
Oz lets out a low breath. “Sounds like a lot,” he says, and Willow nods.
“Kind of the most we’ve ever had at once before, yeah.”
“So why don’t we all go?”
Faith’s head snaps over to Jen, the owner of the latest suggestion.
“What?”
Jenny glances back at the rest of the team. “I mean, seriously, what do we have lined up for the rest of the month?” She asks. “Is any of it as pressing as an apocalypse brewing on the Hellmouth?”
The others look around at each other, before Cordelia (arguably the most familiar with their schedule at all times) shrugs. “Not really,” she admits. “I mean, it’s mostly business as usual now that Angel’s back on his rocker.”
Angel frowns at the metaphor, but he nods regardless. “Jen has a point,” he says.
“An apocalypse tends to be a pretty big deal,” Oz adds. Beside him, Tara shifts, and Faith is distracted from the situation at hand when she remembers that this is the first time the blonde has been in a room with her ex since— well.
Since she found out her ex tried to end the world in her honor.
Faith crosses the room to hop up on the front desk a few feet away from Oz, leaving Tara tucked securely between them. The room around them continues chattering on as she reaches out with her foot to nudge the back of the witch’s knee. When she glances back, Faith offers what she hopes is a reassuring grin. In response, Tara smiles.
Oblivious to the small interaction, the others are discussing the merits of sending more than their single slayer back with Willow to Sunnydale, but it’s becoming pretty clear that there are no disagreements. There’s plenty of complicated Hellmouth feelings in the room, but preventing the end of the world is a pretty good motivation.
“There’s nothing on the schedule for the rest of the week, anyways,” Cordelia is saying, when Faith tunes back in. “Considering the situation, we haven’t been taking on any new cases.”
“And we could certainly use the help,” Willow adds. It’s clear she’s going for cheerful as she says it, but she withdraws when her eyes land on Tara halfway through the sentence, gaze flicking away like she was burned.
“If we’re expecting Faith to be able to help out, the rest of us ought to be able to pitch in,” Jen says. “It’s only fair. Either way, I’m in.”
Angel nods along. “We can pull some people together,” he says. “I’ll come, too. Pay some penance for Angelus’s recent jaunt.”
“Don’t beat yourself up about that, boss,” Lorne calls from the couch. “It wasn’t you, we all know that.”
From the frown that crosses Connor’s face, they don’t all know that, but Faith doesn't really care about the kicked puppy act. She’s more focused on the way she can see Tara and Oz sharing a glance out of the corner of her eye.
After a moment, Tara nods. “I’ll go,” she says, mostly towards Angel, and Oz hums in agreement.
“Me too,” he adds.
Cordelia gives a thin smile as she joins in. “Might as well make it a full reunion, then.”
( Shit , Faith thinks, for just a moment. She’s really going back and dragging the rest of them with her.
She wants to be grateful, but it tastes a lot like guilt.)
The room lapses into a moment of silence after Cordy speaks, everybody’s heads slowly turning towards Angel as if waiting for him to give the final say. When he notices all the eyes in the room on him, he clears his throat.
“Then it’s settled,” he says, and something in the pit of Faith’s stomach turns.
“Great,” she says, forcing her lips up into a grin as she leans forward to throw an arm over Tara’s shoulder. “Family roadtrip back to the mouth of hell. What could go wrong?”
—
Once it’s less ‘steal the slayer to fight the apocalypse’ and more ‘we are all going with the slayer to fight the apocalypse’, it becomes a bit of an operation. Faith’s a light traveler; she can grab a few pairs of clothes and a few weapons within a few minutes and be good to go for a week or two. The others, however, not so much… Cordelia, especially.
Most of the team decides to go, in the end, but it’s well agreed that a few people have to be able to hold down the fort while the others are away. Connor is the first to be benched, while Lorne, Gunn, and Wesley agree to stay back and watch the hotel for various reasons that they all pretend isn’t ‘keeping an eye on Connor’.
(Wes seems the most uncomfortable with staying, but the tension between him and Faith has shot up over the past week. Sure, they've come a long way from betrayal and murder, but the words he said to her since Angel lost his soul cut deep. She knows he was only trying to get her to rise to the occasion, so to speak, but she can't shake the sound of him calling her a rabid dog out of her head. The two of them together on this mission could prove to be explosive.)
Save for the four boys, Faith is surprised to see that the rest of the team all throws in for Sunnydale. Even Oz agrees to come along, although she has a sneaking suspicion it’s only half to do with stopping the apocalypse, and half about providing emotional support.
Oz is reliable like that.
Faith is ready to go within ten minutes (and with time to spare), but one glance out into the hallway tells her that the others are not on the same page. Through the various open doors, she picks up various snippets with her Slayer’s hearing: Cordy muttering something about always preparing for things last minute, Fred debating on what deserves room in the single bag she’s determined to bring.
What intrigues her is the low hum of conversation she can hear from Tara’s room. Even from down the hall, her above-average senses can pick up both Jen and Tara’s voices. They’re speaking too quietly for her to hear the actual words, but she can get a sense of the tone from where she stands.
It isn’t super lively, that’s for sure.
Faith hefts her duffel over her shoulder as she leaves her own room, trudging down the hall to Tara’s. Sure enough, when she props herself up against the doorframe of the witch's bedroom, she finds the the other two are engaged in a less-than-enthused conversation. Jen has plopped herself on Tara’s bed, a backpack at her feet, as she watches the witch throw books and… some magic shit? in a bag. There's a furrow in the center of Tara's brow, and while Jen's face is firm, her eyes are gentle.
“Tara, you know you don’t have to go,” she says.
“I don’t,” Tara agrees, pausing to glance back at her. “But I’m going to.”
Faith takes this as her moment to enter, knocking on the doorframe to get their attention. “Room for a third in the pre-Sunnydale panic party?”
Tara shrugs. “No real panic,” she says, despite the way she’s clearly chewing the inside of her cheek.
It’s a mood Faith is used to seeing by now. Bless her level-headed heart, something about Tara is always calm, even when she’s nervous. Even now. Hell, this is the first time she’s seen Willow since the fallout that came from the other girl literally trying to end the world , and Tara is packing like nothing’s wrong. She’s a few hours from stepping foot in the town that nearly killed her, and she’s folding long-sleeve shirts into a suitcase like it’s your average Tuesday. For all her gentle strength, however, Faith has learned her well enough to tell that Tara's not as relaxed as she’s pretending to be.
“You sure?” Faith asks, dropping her duffel and crossing the room to take a seat next to Jen on the bed. “You look a little panicked.”
“I’m okay.”
“Unclench your jaw then.”
Tara stops in her tracks at the challenge. Faith watches as the other girl takes a deep breath in and, after a moment, the hard line of her jaw smooths out. Some of the nervous energy seems to dissipate with it.
“Better?”
Tara sighs. “I’m not panicking,” she says. “Really, I want to go back, I want to help. Especially if the rest of you are going. But I am… a little anxious, I guess. This is all happening a bit fast.”
She drops down on Jen’s other side, and the older woman places a comforting hand on her knee. Faith reaches around Jenny to squeeze Tara’s shoulder.
“Everything always happens fast around here,” she says. “Least we got a good two and half hour drive to get used to it this time."
Tara doesn't seem placated, so she continues. "It’s gonna be fine. We’re all gonna go back to Sunny D, stop the apocalypse, and show off how much better we’ve done it in L.A. since we left. And if Red bothers you, I’ll tell her to fuck off.”
At the mention of her ex, Tara’s head snaps up. “You didn’t say anything to her earlier, did you?”
“Me?” Faith asks, waving a hand through the air. “Nah! Just because I don’t like her doesn't mean I’m gonna be rude. End of the world takes precedence and all that.”
“She’s not a bad person—”
“Maybe not, but she did bad things to you. That shit matters to me. Not gonna be a bitch, unless she really starts to earn it, but I ain’t gonna lie and pretend to be best friends.”
“If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all,” Jen adds, sagely, before she cracks a grin.
Tara mirrors it, although her eyes have gone a bit misty. “I feel like expecting Faith not to say anything at all might be a little much…”
“Hey!” Faith shouts, in mock-outrage, leaning back to grab a pillow from behind her before chucking it at Tara. It bounces off of Jenny instead, who merely sighs despite the fond smile on her face.
“Children,” she says. “The lot of you.”
“Aw,” Faith replies as she rests a head on the older woman’s shoulder, her momentary feud with Tara already forgotten. “We love you too, granny.”
—
It takes them all maybe an hour to gather back up in the main hall.
Despite being one of the first ones ready to go, Faith finds herself the last to enter, having waited for Tara to finish pulling her things together. The others are all grouped up in the lobby, waiting to head out.
Goodbyes are a quick but surprisingly heartfelt affair. Faith allows herself to be pulled into Lorne’s grasp for one of his tight hugs, and accepts the heavy hand Gunn claps on her back with a grin.
“Don’t die out there,” the man says.
“No promises,” Faith fires back, but the humor she intended to say it with feels flat. He doesn't comment on it, simply squeezing her shoulder before releasing her.
Connor ignores her, which Faith is content with, and she offers Wesley a single salute in passing as they head out.
They can't all fit into Angel’s car, meaning that some of them have to ride with Willow. That’s where Faith finds herself, stretched out in the backseat beside Jen and listening to the redheaded witch prattle on about the situation in Sunnydale until she runs out of steam. Instead of engaging, she busies herself with staring out the window and watching the lights of Los Angeles get smaller the further they drive. When they disappear from sight as a whole, something in her chest feels empty.
Oz rides with them, too. Unlike the others, he seems to have no qualms about striking up a casual conversation with Willow. It’s a marked difference from Tara, who had put up no resistance as Cordelia all but ordered the blonde into Angel’s car.
It must be easier to talk to your ex when they didn’t try to end the world for you, Faith thinks.
It’s not quite as pleasant in the backseat. While Oz is having no trouble playing nice, likely due to the fact that he has a far stronger bond with Willow than she does, Faith is having a hard time being as cordial. As a result, she’s resigned herself to keeping her mouth shut; she knows if she opens it, her quips are going to carry too much bite to be considered on the right side of the friendly line.
Jen is almost as quiet in the backseat. The only real difference between her and Faith is that Willow actually tries to talk to Jen. She’s polite in response, and even Faith can tell there’s a leftover fondness from her time as Willow’s teacher, but it’s a bit fraught. There’s a lot of extenuating circumstances at this point to complicate the matter.
Honestly, it’s a pretty tense and uncomfortable drive; Faith’s almost glad for the half-dead girl that gets thrown out of the truck several yards ahead of them near the end of their journey.
Willow slams on the breaks when it happens, their car lurching to a stop. “Holy shit,” she breathes, before she’s throwing open the door to the car and launching herself out of the vehicle. A few seconds after, Oz has released his seatbelt and is running over as well.
Faith and Jen share a glance before they both clamber out to survey the scene, stopping a few feet short. The other car skids to a stop behind them as they do, car doors opening and slamming shut as the others get out to investigate. Angel jogs over to join Willow and Oz from where they’re hunched over the girl’s prone form, whereas Tara and Cordelia come up to stand beside Faith and Jen while Fred lingers behind
There’s a moment of silence between them all before Faith grins, bittersweet.
“Guess we’re really back in Sunnydale, huh?” She asks, jabbing Cordy in the side with an elbow. “Think it’s a good welcome home?”
Cordelia rolls her eyes, but her lips twitch at the corners, and Jen snorts. Faith takes it as a win.
After all, she’s gonna need as many wins as she can get if she’s gonna be stuck here for the foreseeable future.