I know who this is. Spike. The man she mumbles about in her sleep, her sweet little Spike, her prince, her pet, her savior, her betrayer, her whatever name her twisted little mind can come up with.

Rage gathers at the back of my eyes and I launch at him, beating his head, kicking him in his sides, landing blows anywhere I can. Bastard, fucking bastard. Coming back when no one wanted him, when we were happy.

Even in my anger, a little voice creeps into my head...maybe she wanted him. No. Fuck it, no. He's down on the floor now, and I'm sending the steel toe of my boot into his side again and again. I can feel ribs caving.

The crowd has retreated off the dance floor, their eyes wide. I must look like a psycho, some sort of crazed demon. Long smooth hands curl around my throat, squeezing just hard enough to make me look up.

"Dru?" I whisper. She trails her hand upwards, scraping her nails against my cheek. "Please don't...please don't...god, don't be angry at me, baby. I'm sorry."

I'm so fucking tired all of a sudden, and I lean my head on her shoulder. She's stroking my hair, and it feels so good, so cool and perfect. Maybe it's ok. Maybe it's ok. Maybe it was just a dance for old times' sake, a last gasp of a once hot passion.

I turn my head and she's there, snaking her tongue into my mouth. She lifts me off my feet and carries me out of my club, like some sort of all powerful mother. Before I know it, we're at the motel, she leaning over me and I'm on the bed, my shirt off. Her cold tongue darts out and tastes my nipple and I arch my back...happy to be the one not in control. One of her hands trails over my hot forehead and she speaks..

"Faith?" I blink rapidly in the sudden light. Several white-coated figures surround me, and I try to shrink up against the pillows...pillows?

"Where am I?" I ask, my voice coming out strangely slurred.

"You're in the hospital, Faith, Sunnydale General. You've been in a coma for the last month." I squint and the figures come into focus. One of them carries a clipboard and wears a little tag that says 'Dr. Greft'.

I do not want to be here anymore. That's the only thought in my head that makes any sense..."Where am I?" The figures glance at each other with worried expressions. "I said, where am I?!" I screech it at them and suddenly all the feeling comes back to my body, and I can feel the tubes in my nose, the needle in my arm, the tight constricting sheets wrapped around my legs.

"I just told you where you are, Faith, Sunnydale General...remember?"

"You didn't tell me shit, I would've remembered if you'd told me."

"You might be having problems with your short term memory, Faith, it's a common side effect of the type of head trauma you experienced...to be quite honest, we weren't expecting you to wake up."

"What, you thought I was going to die?" Fucking doctors. Grabbing the tube coming out of my nose, I pull hard, screaming when it comes up. Two of the figures run up to restrain me, but I still have some fight left in me and I throw them off and they come back and there's something cold and metallic going in my stomach.

I cry out in pain, but then I realise it's just a memory. I grab my IV and yank...the clear liquid starts spilling across the floor. The white figures are frantic now, one of them running out of the room as I throw the sheets off my legs.

Dru slides my leather pants off my legs, sliding her hands between my legs and parting them gently. I sigh as one of her fingers dips inside me, pressing on my insides. One of her hands pushes down on my shoulder, keeping me still as continues to rub me.

"Faith, please, just calm down..." Dr. Greft tries to touch my shoulder and I strike out. He falls down to the ground, clutching his face, and I surge out of the bed, hitting the ground and trying to run.

Cramps hit me low in my stomach and I fall heavily to the ground. My empty belly turns itself inside out and I retch, dry heaving. Bile hits the back of my throat and I feel tears starting.

My hospital gown flaps behind me as I run down the hallway, stumbling and tripping. Several doctors shout at me as I run towards the exit, a security guard even starting to chase me, but I finally reach the doors. I slam through them and out onto the street, grabbing hold of a man just about to get out of his car. "Give me your keys," I growl.

I growl and push at Dru's shoulders until she licks me where I want it, right across my clit. I squeeze my eyes shut and clench my thigh muscles, trapping her slim shoulders as she licks hungrily.

Everything hurts as I pull the car out of the parking space, bones digging into the seat of the car, weaving crazily. I ignore the honks, concentrating only on getting to my apartment without crashing. Somehow, I make it. I wrench the door open and fall out onto the ground, pushing myself up finally and lurching towards the elevator. Please, fucking god, don't let there be anyone around. I can't deal with any of Buffy's crowd, or any of the mayor's staff.

Lucky me. The apartment's completely empty and I collapse onto the bed and wait for sleep. But it doesn't come. I lie there on the bed, staring at the ceiling. The mayor's dead. He has to be...and that means that Buffy's probably still alive. And everyone on the good guys' side hates me.

I swallow hard. I can't stay here. I need to leave...again. Can't fucking stay anywhere, nobody needs me or wants me, no matter how far I go. Curling up into a little ball, I let myself cry...

Drusilla finds just the right spot and I practically arch myself off the bed as I come, clenching my fists and biting my lip. She lets me down gently, licking up everything until I feel clean and then she wraps herself around me, murmuring a lullaby into my ear.

I try, I try so hard to wait for sunrise so I can be sure...but the song is so soothing and I'm so tired...I close my eyes and fall asleep against her chest.

My eyes snap open and I immediately close them again. Too bright. I roll over and pull the covers over my head. But...something's wrong...I sit up and look over to the other side of the bed. She's gone...she's gone with him.

For a while, I just sit in front of the television, wrapped in the sheet from the bed, mindlessly watching whatever shit comes on. I can't fucking process it. I always thought I'd be the one to leave.

It's hot in the room, so fucking hot, and I wish I had her next to me again, her chill skin pressed up against my sweaty back. But she's not here...and all I can do is let the heat roll over me.