Just an Echo in the Night

by Lilyme

Copyright © 2008

lil_redsfaith@yahoo.de

Rating: R
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel the Series, characters, plots and dialogues belong to Joss Whedon, David Greenwalt and Mutant Enemy ("grrr argh"), The WB and Twentieth Century Fox. Echo and her Dollhouse belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy Eliza Dushku and Boston Diva Productions (*insert fitting Eliza-y quote here*), FOX and Twentieth Century Fox. No copyright infringement intended. Neither author nor site make any profit of this.
Distribution:  The Mystic Muse:  http://mysticmuse.net
Just ask.
Feedback: Yes, please.
Spoilers: Angel Season One, Sanctuary.
Author's Notes: Ignore the timeline. No idea "when" Dollhouse is supposed to take place, but I guess it's not the year 2000 :P. Thanks to my betas Will-Lehane- and K (she goes by many names).
Pairing: Just Faith

She was sitting here. In Angel's apartment. Watching TV.

Not on the run. Not out there. Not…

A bowl of popcorn, a drink and a remote control. Pictures from various TV programs flicking past her without her really paying attention.

Some black and white movie, a man hitting a woman. A baseball game. 'Superman', saving the day, protecting those who needed, deserved to be protected…

As on cue, "Is everything okay in there?" she heard him asking from the other end of the room. Fast showerer, that vampire guy.

"I was touch and go for those four minutes you left me alone, but somehow I got through it," came the remark, which sounded snippier than anticipated.

It was just…a little ironic. Him – a vampire; her – a vampire slayer. Mortal enemies, to say the least. Given normal circumstances, she should kill him. Given less normal circumstances, he might kill her.

Given the most abnormal circumstances…he'd offer her sanctuary in his non-crypt apartment, after she'd made attempts to piss him off well enough to kill her.

That was the problem – he should have killed her. He hadn't done it.

Instead he played just that – Superman. And on top of that made plans to help her redeem. When all she wanted was to be killed by him. Or anyone. At last resort herself.

But no…that hadn't worked either. He just had to come back and take that knife from her. She should have been faster. Should not have waited that long to make sure he was gone before sneaking her way out of bed and into the kitchen.

Now she was under close observation. Very close observation, considering there was only one guy here to observe her.

And that – again – was her fault. If she'd just walked out and had gone on the 'pretty short run' that'd mark the rest of her life…

But maybe…death wasn't her ultimate goal. Maybe it seemed just the easiest way to forget everything she had done, to erase everything that she seemed to represent in the eyes of others. And always had represented. Murderer or not, she never stood a chance.

Disappearing. Erasing her existence. Fading away.

It would be better for the world. She could think of several people who'd rather see her gone, if not dead.

Switching to the next channel, she knew she was right.

"Los Angeles police in conjunction with Federal authorities are looking for this woman tonight. A felony suspect from the California town of Sunnydale."

The face on the screen was all too familiar. Not a woman. 'Not much more than a child'. With tired eyes. Pale features. 'Worn out'. A girl looking too old for her barely seventeen years of age.

Angel's concerned, "Faith?" at her knocking her drink off the table, smashing the glass, and the approaching footsteps didn't register on her brain.

She had known that it was coming. Still it chilled her to the bone. Reminded her of her old, unbearable self once again.

Angel crouched down beside her. "We knew about this," he said, his voice drowning the one on TV. "Nothing's changed, alright? Nothing's…"

"Anyone with any information about the whereabouts of this subject should get in touch with law enforcement immediately." Angel faltered when he heard another, well-known voice from the TV, holding a press conference. "Do not approach her. She is violent and unpredictable…"

'Violent'. 'Unpredictable'. Two words that seemed to have been created to describe just who she was.

Cold hands grasped her shoulders roughly as the vampire recovered from the shock that almost matched her own. "Listen to me, Faith. You're safe here," he shook her out of her reverie, tried to reassure her, "You hear me? You're safe."

'Safe'. For a second she believed him.

Then something dropped down on them and she realized that he was not all right. Not regarding this demon that he pushed her into killing right that second. Not regarding herself, as she realized when she came to again and stared down at the dead demon, Angel scrambling to his feet and…the bloodied knife in her bloody hand.

The knife that she had held earlier and that Angel had taken from her.

The knife – not smeared with her own blood. But with the blood of a victim.

Even though this one had been a demon…its blood frightened her. "No." There had been blood on her hands too many times before.

"Hey. Hey. Shhh." Again Angel grabbed her arms, this time lead her to sit down on a day bed. "Sit down."

Briefly she looked at him. He was taking care of her. Why? She didn't deserve this treatment. Even by him. He had been like her once, but he hadn't had a soul. She had had hers – throughout the entire time. He was better than her, should not be sullied by her.

He held her close. "Shh. It's – it's okay." Soothing.

She gave in. Wrapped her arms around his neck, careful to keep her hands away from him.

She tried not to, but she shook uncontrollably. Spilled tears onto his neck. She didn't deserve his kindness, she knew this very well. But she couldn't bring herself to shake his gentle embrace.

She needed it. She was looking for warmth. Warmth that wasn't there. At least not the physical kind. But deep down in the vampire, there it was. She knew it was there, she had felt it before. And she was feeling it now.

And maybe part of her wanted to use this opportunity, him, to find the same thing in herself.

Convince herself that she wasn't just this…person. Coldblooded killer. Unfeeling monster. Ruthless traitor.

She could feel it. It was starting to work. He was reaching something inside of her.

She wanted to hold on tighter.

But then it was gone. His protective embrace. And she was alone with the blood on her hands and the gut-wrenching feeling that this sight brought with it.

This was what always happened to her. She tried to hold onto something, someone…and then something happened that made them leave. And the something always had to do with hurting…if not with death altogether.

And she knew that it was her fault.

She rubbed her hands. A vain attempt to get the blood off.

Fruitless.

She took one hand in the other, made a fist. Shielded the blood from her and everyone else's view. She wanted no one to see it, wanted to pretend it wasn't there.

In the back of her mind she realized someone was talking next to her. Who, she didn't know. One guess was Angel, but there was also someone else.

"She – we were attacked."

"'We'? You and…"

"Faith."

"You and Faith."

She could barely read the emotions in the second voice. The emotions that were connected to her name…but slowly her mind cleared up and made her begin to realize who exactly the second person was.

"Giles heard that…that she tried to kill you."

"It's true."

"So you decided to punish her with a severe cuddling."

"Is that why you're here? To punish her?"

She came to. Turned her head and laid eyes on the newcomer for the first time.

"Buffy."

"Oh, God," Faith mumbled and automatically bowed her head, shying away from the other slayer.

"You didn't think I was gonna find you, did you?"

It was true. She had no idea how Buffy knew she was here. It was not like Faith herself had known that Angel was in Los Angeles now when she had come here.

She had just wanted to get out of Sunnyhell. Get away from Buffy and her friends and everything that she had done to them.

A random train. A random bus. She could have ended up back in Boston, for all she cared. She had simply wanted to disappear.

Then Angel had found her, or rather the other way around. And now Buffy.

She had thought that the blonde was another one of those people who'd want her gone. Maybe that was the case and Buffy just wanted to inflict some pain before getting rid of her once and for all.

"She wants to change. She has a chance to…"

"No. No chance. Jail."

Which is also a way of making someone disappear. Judging from the bitterness in Buffy's voice, Faith was sure that she didn't plan on visiting her there.

Faith slowly got up. She wanted…she wanted…She knew that nothing she'd say could make Buffy forget what she had done to her, but, damn, she wanted…

"You think that'll help?" Angel replied to Buffy's demand in disbelieving tone.

"Buffy…," she started and had to fight to keep her voice from shaking, "I'm sor…"

"If you apologize to me, I will beat you to death," the blonde cut her off, her voice low, cold and speaking deliberately slow. It sounded like a promise she only wanted Faith to hear.

Faith was not taken aback by the blonde's reaction. She couldn't have expected anything else from her. Not after everything.

"Go ahead," she said quietly. She wouldn't fight back. Jail, death, to her it was all the same right now. Though if she had to choose…she'd rather be dead than having to spend days, weeks, months…years of solitary alone with her thoughts. If there was just a way she could forget about all this…

"This is not gonna happen."

Angel put himself between Buffy and her. Of course he was referring to Buffy's threat, but for her it almost seemed to be a reply to her thought.

"Think you can stop me?" Buffy asked with a mixture of amusement and annoyance on her face. "Because you're gonna have to."

Angel's stance, the way he made sure there was no way that Buffy could reach her…she didn't know if she should be relieved or afraid.

Relieved. Because she had no idea if Buffy would have followed through with her threat. It wasn't her own death, which she feared…she could have "lived" with her own death, although not every part of her wanted it. But Buffy…she should not become like her, under no circumstances. Even if the blonde felt like this now…she knew she didn't really want it. The look on Buffy's face right after this one had driven the knife into her was still vivid in her mind…It had been pure abhorrence about what she had just done.

Afraid. Because she knew what was about to happen. She could practically grasp the pre-fight tension with her hand. He shouldn't do this because of her. She wasn't worth it. She was not a good person, never had been, never would be. She didn't deserve to be saved.

"Don't do this." Her voice sounded meek and timid, as she stepped out of his shadow. She was talking to him mostly. To her he seemed more susceptible to reason than Buffy right now.

She was wrong.

"Faith, go upstairs now." He never took his eyes off Buffy when he told her this.

She could hear the threat in his surprisingly even voice. A threat that she knew was directed at Buffy. But part of her feared that his anger would be aimed at her, if she didn't comply.

She wanted to go. But another threat, a blonde threat, was standing between her and the stairs.

"You think I'm gonna let her out of my sight?!" Buffy was enraged.

"Buffy, just back off!" Angel raised his voice, speaking in a tone that neither slayer had ever heard from him.

But whereas one became even more enraged due to his behavior, the other one got more afraid with every millisecond that passed.

She felt like she was being propelled back into her childhood. Remembered a particular fight between her mom and one of her boyfriends. The only one of her mom's boyfriends, who hadn't been a complete jerk. He hadn't been with them for long, had left their life, Faith's life, as abruptly as he had entered it. For a long time she thought that she had been responsible for him leaving. Simple reason – because mommy had convinced her of it being her fault. In her mommy's eyes, everything bad that ever happened to them was Faith's fault.

As she got older, Faith had learned that this wasn't always the case. Never, in fact. But she had been kept in this believe for too long. Too long to see herself as anything but a failure.

That particular night, mommy had been angry at her once again. She couldn't remember what she had done, really not. But it was her fault anyway.

Ben – that was the name of the man that had come close to being something like a father to her within a very short time – had defended her, had protected her as best as he could.

Even if that resulted in…

"There is no way I'm letting her out of my sight!"

"Faith, go!"

Faith ran past Buffy, out of the corner of her eye seeing the blonde turning to follow her, and…"Don't you move a…," Angel grabbing a hold of Buffy, stopping her.

She scrambled up the stairs, knowing what was about to happen. Knowing what Ben…Angel was about to do.

She didn't turn around when she heard the all too familiar sound of knuckles connecting with the boney structure of a face. Once. Twice.

Silence.

She reached the door to Angel's office, opened it and stepped inside. Leaving the door open, she was looking down at the scene. Though she couldn't see anything…just heard the silence being disrupted by a soft, shocked, "I'm sorry," on Angel's part.

Stupid.

Why did he have to do this?

She hadn't been worth it twelve years ago. She wasn't worth it now.

Again this unpleasant feeling crept up inside her that any hurt caused to people around her was ultimately her fault. She had seen it.

Ben, taken away by the police that night, away from her, never to be seen again – because he had wanted to help her. She had no idea, who had called them. Her first watcher, ripped to pieces by Kakistos – because she hadn't been able to stop him. She had taken off and run for her life. Buffy and Angel, fighting – because she hadn't had enough guts to take off this time too or even better, get rid of herself for them once and for all.

"Faith?" A voice behind her asked. "Going somewhere?"

She turned her head. Wesley.

Her latest victim. One of the people, whose pain had really been her fault. Because she had inflicted it on him. Had wanted to make him hurt. Even if it was only part of a plan to reach her ultimate goal.

"No," she turned to stare back down at the stairs, not wanting to meet his eyes. "Just wanted to be alone."

She wanted…they wanted to be alone. Two people that had experienced both intended and the unintended pain caused by her.

"Angel downstairs?" She had tortured him for hours yesterday – he had to stand in for everyone who'd done her wrong in her life – her mother, several of her mother's boyfriends, her faux watcher…Wesley himself had just been a minimal factor in her rage. But how could this pitiable guy be talking so calm, neutral and businesslike to her now?

"Yeah." The big, stupid savior guy was down there, had picked up his conversation with Buffy again, as far as she could hear.

"Right."

She faced him again. Contrasting the neutrality of his voice, his face spoke volumes. What it said, she couldn't fully understand. It was not only contempt and bitterness. Some part of it was…concern?

What he told her next, only half registered on her brain at first. It was too busy scanning his face, examining 'all these little cuts and bruises' that she knew didn't even stop above his neckline. They went lower, much lower. Much deeper. Physically. And even more psychologically.

She had wanted to say something…tell him that she was sorry…But her mouth remained shut. She couldn't bring herself to it. Not because she didn't feel the need for an apology, but because especially the last couple of hours had shown her that this – in her case – only made matters worse.

He didn't notice her attempts of saying something as he explained recent happenings to her. Something about those guys from the Watcher's Council. Yet again trying to get their hands on her to escort her to the mother country. And wanting his help in doing so. Promising him to letting him resume his work for the Council, pursuing his career as watcher.

She flinched when he pulled out a syringe.

He told her what was in it and she half-expected him to drive it into her vein any second.

This is what they all – except Angel, apparently – wanted anyway, right? To see her gone? In one way or the other?

But Wesley surprised her. He approached her and put a hand on her back, intending to guide her back down the stairs again.

She wanted to protest. Buffy and Angel weren't done talking, and she didn't want to draw the vampire's anger to herself for not obeying him.

Her ex-watcher would have none of it. "I'm not doing this for you," he went on as they descended the stairs quickly.

Just in time to hear Buffy spitting an especially venomous comment. "I'm sorry. I can't be in your club. I've never murdered anybody."

Faith felt like this was everything the blonde saw in her – and ever would see. And now it was her fault that Buffy was reminded of that specific trait in Angel as well.

The other two heard footsteps coming down the stairs and the vampire directed a stern voice her way. "Faith, I told you…"

"Slight change of plan," Wesley interrupted the fairly irritated vampire. "Get your coat," he told Faith and faced Angel.

"Wesley, what's going on?" he asked and ignored Buffy, who immediately followed Faith and kept a close eye on her.

"In about twenty minutes the Council's operations team is coming in here. They'll expect to find you gone," he explained as he held up the syringe for him to see, "and her drugged."

Faith was too busy watching Buffy watching her pulling on her jacket to really follow the conversation. The cold stare, full of contempt, made her want to just fade away even more.

And when she turned around to face Wesley and Angel, explaining that she knows these guys…which was more than an understatement…Faith saw her chance.

"They're killers."

"They've surrounded the building."

With this information in mind, she ran out, for the moment unnoticed by the others.

She had no idea why she chose the roof. Hell, she didn't even know how she ended up there, really.

Was it because she simply wanted to get away from B and her understandable wrath? Or did she really want to play target for the council guys? Of course this'd also be a way to get rid of this all.

She stood there on the ledge of the building and looked down. Except for the dim sound of a helicopter, the night seemed silent. For big city standards, anyway. She couldn't see anything suspicious – meaning Council guys or police – down on the street, but she also knew that this didn't mean they weren't there. She was sure that someone was watching.

She was certain that something would happen any time now. Looking up, she inhaled deeply.

Who knows how often she could still do that, in case those 'killers' lived up to their rep.

She was okay with it. She was prepared, ready for it.

She was less prepared and ready for…"You're not gonna run, Faith."

Faith closed her eyes in near exasperation. Why couldn't she just leave her alone? For one minute, at least.

"What do you wanna do? You're gonna throw me off the roof – again?" 'Wanna make me throw myself off the roof again?' Buffy had gotten rid of her that way before, why not now? If she was lucky enough, she might even break her neck this time.

"Any reason why I shouldn't?"

Buffy was so wrapped up her current, seething hatred, she didn't even notice her weird phrasing.

And Faith knew that this wasn't really what Buffy wanted. This wasn't what she had wanted eight months ago either. But Faith tried to ignore the thoughts about her deliberately shooting Angel with an arrow to distract Buffy enough for the Mayor to complete his Ascension without her interfering. It hadn't worked out. Just like Buffy's plan of making her Angel-fodder. So they were kind of even that way.

Of course she felt sorry for this. Among many other things. And she knew that she had missed her chance to come back in Buffy's good graces a long time ago. Red…Willow had been right about that. 'You had friends like Buffy. Now you have no one. You were a slayer and now you're nothing. You're just a big, selfish worthless waste'.

"There is nothing I can do for you, B. I can't ever make it right."

She did not even try to apologize anymore. It wouldn't help her, anyway.

"So you're just going to take off again. Leave us to clean up yet another one of your messes."

"It would make things easier for you."

Not just for Buffy.

"Till you got bored with the whole guilt thing? Decided to come back and shake things up?"

Buffy didn't believe that she could change, and more importantly wanted to change. Faith's "That's not gonna happen," attitude of course, couldn't do anything to convince the blonde either.

"You're right. It's not!"

Said with as much bitterness as the blonde could muster. Faith knew that they could play this conversation for hours and not get anywhere…unless someone would interfere. Buffy had a firm opinion about her and would not let go of it any time soon.

She really didn't want to – since the given situation didn't really allow for it – but, confronted with this behavior, she was starting to get desperately annoyed. "Angel said there was no way you were gonna give me a chance," she said with an almost shake of her head and a distressed smile.

Buffy's cue…

"I gave you every chance! I tried so hard to help you, and you spat on me! My life was just something for you to play with. Angel – Riley – anything that you could take from me – you took. I've lost battles before – but nobody else has ever made me a victim."

Faith took a moment to weigh out her next move. This had been enough. Buffy had just been a little too…she couldn't even find a word for it. And Faith was close to lashing out again.

She knew where Buffy was coming from. She had to admit that Buffy was right…about most of it, anyway. But…goddammit, why did Buffy have to make it sound like everything that had happened to her ever had been exclusively her fault?

And it was not only her life that sucked at times. Did Buffy seriously think that she had become like this on purpose? God, she had tried! She had tried to fit in! But – speaking of 'giving her every chance' – Buffy hadn't made it particularly easy for her. Had she ever been more than just an unwelcome second slayer that had come to threaten Buffy's place in the world? A burden, a liability, an inconvenience…

This was the story of her life. Always had been. She had been stupid to believe that it would be different with Buffy. Of course this was no excuse for everything that she had done after Finch…but…god, she had been scared. Irrational. Topped with a good amount of lunacy to round this up. She hadn't wanted all this. But there had come the point, where she hadn't found the way out of this mess anymore. Not that Buffy knew that she had tried. She hadn't been able to pull herself out of it, so it all didn't really matter now.

What mattered was that Buffy learned that she wasn't the only one with problems.

Faith made a step forth. "And you can't stand that. You're all about control. You have no idea what it's like on the other side! Where nothing's in control, nothing makes sense!" Her own head conjured up emotions that she had suppressed so thoroughly. Memories long forgotten. Memories that partly even predated her Sunnydale-disaster. "There is just pain and hate and nothing you do means anything! You can't even…"

She was being as honest as she could possibly be. She let her guard down for one second, just to show Buffy how she felt. Naturally the blonde didn't have any other chance than saying, "Shut up!" visibly affected but not willing to admit it.

Faith felt defeated. Utterly. Her feelings stomped. Yet again.

Not knowing what else to do, she begged, "Just tell me how to make it better." She was close to tears.

Buffy inhaled deeply, clearly shaken by her own outburst and Faith's plea. She had no idea how to respond.

The door to the roof that burst open and revealed a gun-toting watc…killer, did not leave her a chance to do so anyway.

She didn't know what hit her when she sprang forward and tackled Faith, pulling her out of the line of fire.

Faith worked on autopilot. Letting Buffy pull her and edge her on, making her move out of harm's way, avoiding the guy in the door and the one in the helicopter that had joined in the crossfire.

Why was Buffy doing this? She could have let them kill her. Then it'd be all over. So why didn't she?

"I have to take this guy out," Buffy told her as they hid behind one of the skylights. "The guy with the gun up there will go for me. You stay here!"

There was no concern in Buffy's voice. Buffy wasn't worried about Faith being harmed. It was a dare. A threat.

"Okay," Faith replied emotionless and watched as Buffy jumped over the skylight.

Buffy fought one of the guys and Faith looked around. She didn't know what hit her, but all of the sudden she saw her chance to take off. For real, this time. Destination…'jail'. Buffy wanted her there. It might be a way to show her that she really wanted to change.

She spotted a fire ladder and used the hubbub on the roof – intensified by Angel joining in – to slip out. It didn't take her long to reach the ground. She half-expected to be shot right this instance by the third council guy. She scanned the immediate area. She didn't see anyone who might fall into that category.

Faith started walking into the direction she expected the next police department to be in.

She had barely made it one block far, when…

"Excuse me, Miss."

No, 'Miss' couldn't mean her. Those council guys wouldn't call her that. In fact, no one would call her that. 'Missy', maybe, 'slayer', 'slut', 'bitch'…but not 'miss'.

When she didn't react, just kept on walking, the voice came again. "Miss…Miss Lehane."

She stopped dead in her tracks. Was it a member of the Watcher's Council, anyway? Why else should this guy know her name?

Inwardly preparing for a fight, she turned around slowly. If he wasn't with the council, he could be another kind of threat. In her current situation…she also had the police and possibly even Lilah and her Wolfram and Hart flunkies looking for her.

The guy she now faced did not look like a particular threat. She could fight him easily if she had to. Trusting her judgment, she eased up…a little. If he were with the police, he would have overpowered her by now. If he were with the evil law firm, he would have put a magically immobilizing whammy on her, maybe. If he were with the council, he would…have done worse.

"Miss…may I ask you to come with me, please?"

She considered her options. Jail. She was determined to go there. To make up for everything. But this guy…why did going with him suddenly seem so much more enticing?

This can't be?

He put a hand on her back and she let herself be lead. The guy, maybe forty years of age, tall and slender, had a gentle, unthreatening aura around him. He looked as if he couldn't harm a fly. But then again, she could be wrong.

Still confused at why he knew her, but also curious in her own way, she entered the unobtrusive black van that stood around the corner.

Immediately her eyes fell on the side wall, full of monitors with pictures and video material of…herself.

One of Los Angeles' local TV stations that was still exclusively reporting her case. Several monitors with old and recent material of observation cameras – of her leaving Angel's apartment through the sewer access before being stopped by him, of her fight in the bar a few days ago, of her in the Wolfram and Hart headquarter, of her lying in bed in the basement sickroom at the Sunnydale General…even material from Sunnydale's city hall, interior and exterior.

Several screens displayed part basic and part more detailed information about her. Everything down to a comparatively short school career, at times peppered with cross-references to multitudinous hospital stays, which themselves started as early as mid 1985.

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