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Before It Felt Like Home

by Amy Dias
Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: I own nothing but myself.
Author's Notes: To Matt, Claire, Eva, Nath I love you guys and to Faithful Chikie you are one hell of a beta reader. This story takes place before my last fic It Feels Like Home.
Feedback: Please please did I happen to mention please and who said that I was begging.

+Prologue=1+

PROLOGUE

TWO MONTHS PRIOR

The blood was slowly dripping, so slowly she could hear each drop as it fell. The pain was so deep that she wasn't able to feel it anymore, she was the pain. Her whole body aching, feeling her life slowly flying away from her, too far for her to ever reach anymore. She was going to die, and it was going to happen pretty soon.

Laying on her back, not even capable of keeping her hands to her wound to stop the bleeding, she saw her life, all the events of her miserable life. Her mother... who did everything she could to save her from all that she herself had always suffered... the beatings... the visits late at night... and the useless and loveless screws but she had failed her daughter.

Now she was slowly dying and realising that there had only been one thing in her life that had ever mattered, and she had pushed her away...she had pushed her so far away. She was now alone; the way she had always pictured herself dying, alone...bleeding to death after a big last fight against several members of the fang gang.

The pain was becoming even more bearable, her eyes fluttered shut, her breath increasingly erratic. Eventually she was unable to feel herself. There was now more blood on the ground than in her veins. And slowly ever so slowly, those words made their way to her brain as a picture of the one she loved... and they made their way to her eyes... and then a word to her lips. Just as it left her, not above a whisper, "Buffy" she felt herself being dragged off of the floor and began to fly, being held by strong arms.

She raked every last bit of strength still residing in her dying body. The extremely painful effort was rewarded by the most beautiful face her eyes had ever seen.

There was only one thought that crossed her mind *I am dead...and in heaven...and one hell of a sexy angel is holding me!*

Then it was a long black blank. How far from the truth she was!

*****

Buffy's life had lead to this moment; her holding an almost dead brunette and managing to run faster than ever without dropping her. The surprise was that she actually cared a lot to save this girl. She had to save her or she felt that she was going to die with her. Save a girl, a woman now, that had hurt her in so many ways. Buffy was able to say this because she felt the tears falling from her eyes.

Eyes darkened by fear and pain, and also filled with an emotion that she never knew was there... And could be directed toward a nemesis. She cared so much about her fellow slayer that it scared her shitless. She hadn't even known that she was back.

Back to the town where they had taken place in one of the most raging battles of their young lives...where everything between them was betrayal, attempted murders or battles that looked like wars. And stabbings.

Stabbings in the back and a stabbing in the gut, that she thought had destroyed forever their link; the one they had felt so strongly at the beginning, at the first look they shared.

Then everything had got awful leading to a coma and even worse when Faith was put in jail separating them undeniably. The bond definitely was broken or so she thought. How far from the truth she was!

CHAPTER 1: Stay With Me

Notes: To Cassie the owner of my heart, to Faithful Chickie my wonderful beta, I miss you hon and last but not least to the great French team guys you know who you are ;D

White. Everything is white. I feel white, dead. All so pure…so perfect. There is nothing…a land of white nothing. There are no sounds, no feelings, no smells, no life. And then a voice, “not now” only a quiet whisper, “go to her” and then all seems to fade away, and there is no light anymore… just the back of my eyelids, and I can smell.

This smell seems familiar. It brings memories, good and bad ones, but I can’t seem to focus enough to hold them. There is one thing that I know for sure, something I feel, stronger than ever before. I am alive. And a voice reaches me, her voice calling a name… my name. It leaves her soft lips and joins me where I am laying. It enters my skull, and dances in my brain and gives me the strength to open my eyes, for I know that I will see her face.

And I am right. But what I see both scares me and warms me. Her eyes are as blood, her hair is a mess…her whole face is a picture of sorrow and pain. What warms me is that this is all for me. It’s not that I love seeing B hurt; it’s that I love seeing that she cares about me, even after that shit several years ago.

Then my eyes drift to my surroundings. I am at her house, lying in her couch and there is blood everywhere. On the floor and even on the walls. My blood is painting her walls and I am not so fucking sure that I am not dead. I can feel a hole in my stomach, and it doesn’t even hurt.

When she sees me looking around she stops calling me and I see this huge relief. But only because I know her like the back of my hand. She is trying to hide her concern for me. She has not forgiven me yet. What a fool, I was thinking that almost dying would make her drop her hate and acknowledge what I have known for years… passion. Passion so strong that we thought it was hate. Eating us alive, leading us to hurt each other so deeply that nothing is forgotten and maybe never forgiven. And THIS fucking hurts more than a hole in the stomach.

I can’t bear this, being in the same room, smelling her, so close that it burns. She is talking to me and I don’t listen… I can’t …I…I have to go, I have to run as far away as I can ‘cause she is killing, me for real. I try to stand up and she stops me, her hands on my shoulder and arm, and I don’t want her to touch me as bad as want her to touch me. I can’t seem to think straight whenever she is around. Shit I have to fucking leave. There is a wild scream in my skull and everything becomes a night and I faint. And I feel her holding me. Again.

When I come back she is sitting on the floor next to me and there is no more blood. As soon as she sees I am awake she speaks, “Don’t move unless you want to visit faint land again.” And that’s just what I do even if she's so close to me that I feel her warm breath on my neck.

“Why am I not dead B?” I really think that it would have been better, easier for her and for me. Looking at her everyday, every fucking day and not being able to touch her or help her. So I stayed away, slaying when she was gone, watching her back without her knowing and taking this fucking knife in my gut when it was for her. Funny how the vamps have changed during my vacations.

“Willow healed you.” She won’t tell anything more but it doesn’t bother me, it’s not like I give a flying fuck I only know her voice so sweet, I close my eyes just to take it in for I know that the words that follow are going to be said harshly and with hatred. But what I hear then makes me think that the back of my hand has really changed. “What? Are you hurting? Faith please look at me.” Her voice holds such concern that it hits me like an uppercut. I open my eyes and I can see this look of colossal relief.

“No B, I’m okay stop worrying, you can’t do that for me. And I am okay” that’s true. But I know it won’t last, happiness never lasts with me, doesn’t suit my lipstick shade. So I better stop it now, myself. It will hurt less.

But I am wrong ’coz the look she gives me hurts, a fucking lot. She stands up. “I was just being polite, it’s not like I care, right?” Here it comes, B’s hard stare “I just fucking saved your life!!”

This makes me want to scream. “Yeah B but I didn’t ask you anything, did I? Why did you do it, you hate my fucking guts. With me dead you would have had a new Council Branded Slayer. So I want to know why you saved me when all you've ever wanted is to get rid of me. Goddam you B, I need to know why. It's making me crazy!”

While I was speaking I sat and grabbed her hand, ignoring the pain coming from the gash. My eyes are now drowning in hers and she has to tell me. It’s her last chance. Kind of a now or never. Her hand stays in mine and this feels good. “I don’t know Faith” and I can tell she is sincere. “It just hurt to see you like this, thinking that I had lost you… for good. I don’t know what it means. You have to give me time.” That’s the only thing that I can’t give her.

“B, I have to go.” I want to take my hand back and never allow it to come near her again. But she doesn’t let me. Instead she increases the pressure. “B let go of me, please.” She doesn’t listen to me and instead bends over letting her arms lightly rest on my shoulders. Instantly I close my eyes.

Her body on mine is not enough to convey the fire burning deep within me. I have to act on this moment. To make it mine as much as hers. So I press my whole body to her lithe frame. The next thing I feel is her hot hands placed on the small of my back slowly massaging me. The lock is so intense, it’s like there is no tomorrow…like the next minute will never happen. Nothing else matters but our bodies crushing and our arms holding each other…slowly exploring every inch of skin, every crevice of flesh.

After seconds, minutes or hours we get free from the other. She is still holding my hand, our fingers now melded like our bodies seconds ago. And I can’t speak, I even seem to have forgotten how to breath. I only look at her eyes and what I see there warms me, I don’t doubt that I am alive. Her eyes are clearer than before telling me wonderful things that only a minute ago I thought I would never hear.

I don’t want to leave, and it seems that she feels the same way. “Faith I don’t really understand what I feel for you, but there is one thing that I know for sure and it’s that I don’t want to be away from you another minute. We've wasted too much time already…so…so there is one thing that I want to ask you. Would you stay here with me?” This seems so natural that I don’t even need to think about it.

My answer is a husky “Yes”.

But in the back of my mind I know that this is not going to be this easy with all these twisted feelings and past. But this was not a voice that I wanted to listen to when lost in those emerald green eyes. What I had forgot is that this voice always screams out and that in the end it's the one I listen to. The voice that tells me that I am a whore, that I don’t deserve to live or have someone that loves me. His voice that I've heard my whole life.

Dad always loved me.

And then there is this new voice. Kind and protective, sweet like music. A voice that brought me from the dead.

“Stay with me…”

...to be continued...

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