There was a lot of chaos happened outside. Lots of bangs and shouts. Lots of chit-chat. With any luck, it would all go towards snagging Angel's soul from wherever it had been whisked away to.
Lorne had decided to leave the heroing to the heroes.
He knew that they had not really abandoned Faith. The girl had injected herself with enough Orpheus to floor a professional wrestler...or, in this case, Angelus. There was nothing to be done. No time to mourn the dead when there were thousands more living that needed saving…one of them being the champion of those thousands himself.
Lorne knew it was hopeless, but this was part of the reason he had decided to stay with her. She would not know he was even there through the mystic haze, but it helped him to think he was doing something for her. So he sat next to her, holding her hand gently and staring down at her suffering face.
She would not die alone.
Faith…he'd heard quite a bit about her, from Angel and Wesley and occasionally Cordelia. The girl had been dealt some bad cards in the grand poker game of life. But she'd come out of it with the same spark she'd entered it with.
No one with a spark like that deserved to burn out like this.
He really wished he could have met her before this. She could have come to Caritas, had a few drinks, and maybe gotten her life onto a less gruesome track.
Wishful thinking, probably. Slayers lived their lives through battle and blood from the day they were called…sometimes, even before.
But Lorne decided to allow himself some wishful thinking. It killed him inside to see someone die like this, so slowly and quietly.
Leave the heroing to the heroes. Lorne had decided that he had his own job to do. He was no hero, but he'd seen a lot of girls like Faith burn out and wither with this thing eating them up. The least he could do was see this one safely on her way.
"Don't you worry, princess," he whispered. "It'll all be over soon. I…I've seen a lot of girls go through just what you're going through now." He squeezed her hand a little tighter, wishing he could do something more.
He was not strong like Angel or Gunn. He was not smart like Fred and Wesley. He didn't even have a tenth of Cordelia's determination, or whatever she had that had let her claw her way down from the higher planes to come home. He was a demon, but compared to his friends he was as average as they came.
Except…maybe…for one, little thing. Lorne supposed that there was one thing he could do, one thing he was better at than any of his friends.
"There'll be another song for me, and I will sing it…" he sang, trying to keep the tremors from his voice. He kept his voice low and gentle, almost as if he were singing the dying girl a lullaby. "Oh, there'll be another dream for me, someone will bring it…"