See Through All
Hi guys! This is a fic dealing with Faith during season three. This is from Faith's POV. I don't own 'see through all' by Staind, or Faith. Enjoy!
What is your fucking problem?!?
...you wanna know what my problem is?
My problems. I have a shit load of problems. Where would you like to start? My abusive childhood? My bastard father that left my mom and I when I was a kid, or how my mom was an abusive alcoholic bitch? Wanna talk about how I had to raise myself, fend for myself, survive with no one to take care of me except me? Or would you like to talk about how men have used me in the past? Would you like to know about being called to be the world's champion? Would you like to know what it was like to see my watcher, the only person who ever gave a damn about me, be brutally butchered? Or how about how I came here to Sunnydale, slay vamps night after night, and never recieve any praise and end up hidden in Buffy's shadow?
Yes, there's just so much to talk about. When I came here to Sunnydale, I wanted to see who the infamous Buffy was. I expected to see some tough badass who grew up in the Bronx or something. But instead I found little miss perfect. A petite blonde with tons of friends, a mom, a place in school, and a watcher. She has everything I ever wanted. Everything I ever needed. And yet she acts like her life is shit because she's the slayer. From what I've heard, she went through a lot with Angel. Big love, big loss, big fricken' deal. He's back now and they're all over each other again. Whenever I see them together they're making moon-eyes at each other. It's almost disgusting to see. Buffy can whine about slaying all she wants, but I see her when we patrol. I see the way her eyes blaze when she makes the kill. The way little miss perfect slips away and the real slayer takes over. She can put up a big front about it, but I know she loves it.
And it's not fair.
Being the slayer is the only thing that I have. It's the only thing that gives me a purpose in life, that seperates me from the other hopeless people. I'm stronger, faster, better. Yes, better. I have strength that most humans couldn't even dream of. And I spend all of my effort on hunting down vampires. I know I could be so much more than that. And that's why I've decided to join the mayor. Buffy can act as superior as she wants, but it won't matter in the end. After the mayor's ascension, all her friends, her mom, Giles...it'll all be gone. And then she'll be like me. She'll see what I had to live like every day. And maybe than she'll understand. She'll understand that at the end of the day, we're the only people that really matter. This world would be dead without us.
Alone I walk beside myself
Alone you put me on your shelf
Alone with my insanity
Alone with no one to blame but me
But if you had told me when I was much younger
That life has a way of pulling you right under
I wouldn't be standing here preaching my hate
I stand at the edge staring into my fate
Want. Take. Have.
This is the philosophy I live by. What I want is what Buffy has, and I'll never get it. She doesn't even realize how lucky she is. When she invited me to her house for dinner one night, I couldn't help but stare in awe at the bond she has with her mother. They look alike, with their blonde hair and hazel eyes. I haven't seen her dad around, but it doesn't matter. At least her mom loves her. I saw her mother hug her once, and I felt a pang in my gut. I haven't seen my mother in years. Once I found out I was the slayer, I just packed up and left. She didn't want me and I didn't need her.
...or so I thought.
But at that moment I found myself wondering what it would be like to be hugged by my mother. The woman that gave birth to me never showed me any sort of affection. So as I watched Buffy hug her mom, I felt my envy grow. I tried to push it away along with that pang of sadness. I'm a slayer, I'm above such emotions. I'm a warrior, I'm the slayer. Fate chose ME. For a second I wondered what my life would be like if Buffy had just stayed dead. Would Willow and Xander be my friends? Would Giles praise me for my slaying skills? Would these people love and praise me like they did her?
Of course not. Buffy is the shining star in their world. I'm the one who walks in the shadows and does what needs to be done. Unlike Buffy, I'm not afraid of my destiny as a slayer. Fate made me better, and I wasn't going to waste the talents I had. So I sought out someone who would put them to good use. And the man I found? Mayor Wilkins. He's embraced me with open arms and welcomed me into his world. Finally, I found a place where I belong. The mayor has given me everything I could ever want. He's gotten me an apartment, clothes, food, entertainment systems, work out equiptment. All I have to do is name it and he gets it for me. But everything comes with a price.
I see through you
What makes you think that you're god
Pick up the pieces as I fall apart
Why must you fuck with me
The mayor has assignments for me. And tonight, I'm going to do something that will truly seperate me from Buffy and her world. Tonight I'm going to kill a human. A professor Wirth to be exact. The mayor wants him dead and I'll be the one to do it. Ironic in a way. Once again, I'm doing the dirty work. When Buffy was out with her friends, I was patrolling and killing the vamps. Now I'm going to a whole new level. I walk up to his apartment, holding a knife that the mayor gave me. My favorite dagger is currently in Buffy's possession. After my boss kills her, I'll take it back. I hold the weapon behind me and knock on the door. I hear someone shuffling inside, and the door opens to reveal an old man. Not ancient, but at least forty.
"Hi, I'm looking for professor Wirth," I greet. He frowns a little. "Well that's me, but I'll have to ask you to come back during office hours. Students generally make an appointment." I never was much of a student. Dropped out of highschool due to boredom, and the fact that my mom was broke and there was no money left for tuition. "I'm not from the college. I work for mayor Wilkins. I'm Faith." Faith. What an ironic name for someone like me. I have no faith in anything except for myself. I lost my faith a long time ago, if I ever had it. I really can't remember a time when I did. Wirth looks surprised. "Oh, well come in! I was so surprised when he called. Didn't expect a politition to be interested in my research."
I step inside and look around. As far as I can tell, we're along. "He's a big fan professor," I say, and scan the room. Wirth closes the door behind us, and walks up behind me. "Oh, Lester's fine," he says. I feel my stomach churn a little and wonder if he has any family. If anyone will miss him when he's gone. "We alone here Lester?" I ask, needing to be absolutely sure. He looks a little taken aback, but smiles. "Well, yes. I'm a bachelor. I like my space." I understand that. I take out the knife from behind my back and hold it up. "I hear that. You want to turn and face the wall Lester?" I say.
Betrayed, you left me here for dead
Betrayed, by the voices in my head
Betrayed, left me out in the rain
Betrayed, nothing left but pain
I'm sick of the answers
Your cannibal instincts and your false dedications
You leave me here cold, nothing but my shell
To die while I'm living and burning in my hell
I see the look of horror and fear that crosses his face, and I can't help but smile. That's right Lester. Fear me. I'm a thing to be feared and respected. "What are you doing?" he asks in a trembling voice. Once again, I feel my conscience try to surface and shove it back down. It's nothing personal Lester, just buisness. "I'll make it quick," I say with a small smile. And it's true. I wouldn't want the guy to suffer. He hasn't done anything to me. But than again, if he makes it difficult than I'll have to do it slow. "Put that away. I'll scream," he threatens, his eyes never leaving the knife. Of course he'll scream. He'll be screaming at the top of his lungs by the time I'm done with him.
"Who wouldn't?" I say with a shrug. His eyes become tearful. "Please," he whimpers. My grip on the knife almost falters, but I shove my conscience away. It has to be done. "Sorry friend, boss wants you dead." "Why?" he asks with wide eyes. I shrug and start walking towards him, backing him against the wall. This is it. No more waiting. I raise the knife and thrust it into his gut. I watch his eyes grow wide, and he groans in pain. How strange...the knife just slid into him with barely any resistance. After a moment, blood starts pouring from the wound. It runs down the handle of the knife and onto my hands, my arms, my shirt. "You know," I twist the knife deeper, "I never thought to ask." I watch as his skin pales, and his mouth hangs open in a silent scream. Than I wrench the knife out, and watch his body slide to the ground in a limp heap.
And I killed him.
I see through you
What makes you think that you're god
Pick up the pieces as I fall apart
Why must you fuck with me
I leave the crime scene and head home. I stick to the shadows as not to draw attention to myself. His blood is still warm on my hands. I can't seem to get his face out of my head. The way he looked at me, the way his eyes glazed over when he died. I took a human life. I killed that which fate chose me to protect. Something dark and heavy settles inside of me. Is it because I took a human life? Or is it because I can't find it in myself to care? He was in the way, it needed to be done. He said that he lived alone, no one will miss him. He liked his space. Well, now he can go to wherever people go when they die. I'm sure there's a lot of space there.
I climb the fire escape and enter my apartment. I walk over to the bathroom and put the knife down on the sink. I turn on the water, and glance up at myself in the mirror. I don't even look the same. I'm paler, and I can't seem to find any emotion in my eyes. So I have risen to the next level. Is the next level living without emotion? No, there's still anger. Hate. I'm full of emotion, just nothing comforting or warm. Sighing, I hold my hands under the water and watch the blood swirl and disappear into the drain. Everything just swirls away and disappears. Seeing the dried blood on my clothes, I quickly change out of them and put on a nice warm robe. I throw the soiled clothes into the hamper, not wanting to look at them.
Walking out of the bathroom, I notice that my boots have left bloody footprints on the carpet. I'll have someone clean it up tomorrow. Avoiding the bloody areas, I walk over to my bed and lay down. I'm tired, and could really use a good night's rest. I've taken the final step to becoming the mayor's slayer. After today, humanity can burn in hell. After all, what has humanity ever done for me? What has this world ever done for me that it deserves my protection? Nothing. Always nothing. Holding the robe tighter to myself, I slide under the covers and curl up into a ball. I killed a man tonight in cold blood. And I still can't find it in myself to care. Suddenly tears burn behind my eyes and I begin to cry. I don't cry for Buffy, or the man I've killed. I cry for me, because this world never seems to give me a break. I cry because all I want is to belong. I cry because this pain inside is eating me alive, and I only felt numb when that man's blood was on my hands.
I pick you apart little by little
'Til nothing is left but the look on your face
Once inside our I can get what's inside
Beneath your facade I can see your disgrace
The walls that you build up will crumble around you
The pain you will feel as you wither away
The sun though it comes up will warm you...