Hitting walls, hitting floor, hitting pictures and beds and pillows and doors and over and over again screaming and screaming, until vocal cords go harsh and raw and pained.
And there's broken wood and broken plaster and ripped cloth and broken glass everywhere, slayer strength stronger than anything in a cheap inelegant motel room.
And there's blood. Sweet Jesus, there's blood again. His blood, her blood, my blood, I don't know, I don't care, it's red and it's thick and liquid and it's all over the fucking place again. Spattered on the walls, dashed on the sheets, dripping down my hands, again again again. Make it stop, please God, make it stop.
Landing on the bed, screeching sobs, blood-scent mingling with girl-scent from last night, Oh God Buffy, when I brought you back, I didn't know what we would do, I didn't know what we would create, and we fought and we danced and we fucked and when we went back out on patrol, we killed and is it my blood or is it his blood — it's all over my shirt it's all over me.
And there's a shard of glass on the bed, broken mirror, seven years bad luck for Faith to match the lifetime's worth already earned. Mirror in my hand, slicing up my palm, but then it's sliding down my thigh, thin red line getting thicker and thicker as it flows from me, as it goes all away, it's gone, it's gone.
All the pain dripping onto the sheets, all the pain staining my shirt, shiny on broken mirror and broken soul.
I killed a man and fucked a woman. I cut myself, and I'll survive.
This Angel/Buffy the Vampire Slayer story was written by Kate Bolin. If you liked it, there's plenty more at http://www.dymphna.net/fanfic/. And you can feedback her at dymphna@dymphna.net.