So...umm...what can I say? For those of you familiar with my contributions to this site and to this universe you probably know I tend to keep things neat, tidy, and generally in canon. Also, I seem to have a penchant for writing Faith.

This is my attempt to literally fuck the Whedon-verse.

Wait, no, that's not what I meant. Basically I'm making this completely AU and killing Faith (yikes! No fallback comfort character for me!) and bringing in my own OC to step into the role of Slayer to see how things go. Could be meat, could be cake. *shrugs* We'll see how it goes, shall we? Do R&R.

"Get a crash cart, we're losing her!"

There was a high pitched squeal from the heart monitor as the brunette lay lifeless on the hospital gurney. Doctors and nurses rushed to her side, wheeling a large cart with them. Instantly her hospital gown was shoved aside and the paddles coated with conductive gel. A masked doctor stood over her, his brown eyes taking in the sight of the rather large knife wound on her abdomen. It went straight through her torso, miraculously missing her vital organs, and whatever made that cut was sharp as a razor and likely pretty wicked to look at.

Still, the girl had lost a lot of blood. It wasn't surprising that her heart was failing. With the trauma evident on the body, he could figure a reasonable assumption of what happened. It was amazing the young woman was alive at all. And yet, it looked like she was already healing when he had a chance to inspect the wound closer just minutes before. Amazing thing, the human body.

He pressed the paddles to her chest, one on top of her heart and the other just to the right. Once in position he nodded to the nurse at the main console. "250 jules." He directed. Once she nodded he checked his placement and once he was satisfied he gave a quick jerk of his head. "Clear."

The electricity jolted into her body, causing the muscles to contract and immediately relax. Her body appeared to jump on the table but still not response. She was still dead. The nurse turned the dial up without the doctor having to say the words. "Clear." He indicated again and again the young woman's body jumped on the table. Everyone watched, waiting, for a response. One didn't come. The doctor sighed and nodded, indicating that the dial should be turned up. "One more time." He said urgently.

"You're a fighter. You can do this. Don't leave us." He told the dead woman, urging her back to life.

He pressed the paddles in their appropriate places, willing her to come back to them, willing her heart to beat once more. "Clear."

She jumped and for a tense ten seconds they waited for the body to contact and release, hoping against hope that she'd make a triumphant comeback to life. The doctor muttered words of encouragement and prayer under his breath. She was so young and appeared so strong. After thirty seconds passed with no change and no heartbeat the nurse reached a hand out to touch his shoulder. He was startled by the sudden contact. He'd been staring so hard at her bruised face, hoping, he'd lost himself in thought.

"Doctor?" The nurse's voice was quiet.

"I'll call it." He sighed, conceding. "Faith Lehane. Time of Death 11:32 pm."

Outside the hospital room the Mayor watched the scene and began to grieve. If he ever thought he had a bone to pick with Buffy Summers before, the thought was tenfold now. She was close by, in a hospital bed of her own, drained by the vampire she claimed to love. It would be so easy to kill her here and now were she not surrounded by her idiotic band of friends and family. They all sat anxiously by, waiting on news of her recovery. She could be fixed with a simple enough blood transfusion, not like his girl who lay cooling on the hospital bed just beyond the window. His heart ached.

He walked toward the blond's room, enraged, and was stopped at the door by her Watcher, all concern and British sensibility. The Mayor's eyes widened and wanted to push past the other but the two men didn't touch. His eyes blazed, locking onto the tired Watcher's green orbs with a sort of fierceness one seldom saw in his Norman Rockwell-esque demeanor. He looked past Giles to where Buffy lay and hated her. He hated good, and Slayers, and couldn't wait to ascend and crush them all.

"Why is it your girl gets to live and mine has to be on that table?" he burst out, almost shouting in an uncharacteristic fashion. Of course, no one in the hospital would take note of the incident. He owned the town and had for generations. When he said once that he could murder someone in broad daylight in the middle of the street and walk away scott free, he wasn't kidding. He could blame it on grieving later. Everyone in the office knew of his new protege, a girl protected by him. They just didn't know her official job description.

The staunch Britishman was content to keep his Slayer safe with his own body, having no regard for the Mayor's harsh words. Angel stood nearby, growling predatorially. Their common foe barely glanced in the vampire's direction. Giles sighed and tried to be as civil as he could be in this situation. He didn't like the Mayor. The man was the current Big Bad and they all knew it. However, the man was also indestructible and grieving, so far as he had feelings to grieve. Nothing would be gained by starting a brawl and both he and Angel knew it. Nothing to gain and a lot to lose so Giles opted for tact and civility, as much as he could possibly muster. It wasn't much.

"I might feel a bit sorrier for her if she hadn't tried to kill us so many times. Not to mention her constant killing of others and the evil schemes."

"You just didn't understand her!" the Mayor responded in anguish. "She was perfect! Brutal, efficient..."

"Manipulatable?" Giles supplied, interrupting and the other man fell silent.

"I loved her." he defended.

"I've no doubt. She was a scared and tormented girl. All you had to do was show her a little affection and positive attention and you had as good a killer as you'd ever want at your disposal. You manipulated her need for structure to your own ends. That's not love."

"How dare you say that!" he protested. "I ought to kill you where you stand for suggesting such a thing. She was like my daughter and I took her under my wing the best way I could."

"You convinced her to kill. You took a very fragile sense of right and wrong and the sensitive emotional state she was in and bent her to your will."

"She had a home. She had security and Gosh Darnit if she didn't have love! Some deaths in life are necessary for the means to justify the ends."

"Evidently not." the Watcher responded evenly, nodding in the direction of the room where Faith's body was being taken to the morgue. Wilkins noticed the movement and forgot his futile argument with the stuffy Britishman and his confounding logic and lack of sympathy. He accompanied the body out of the room leaving the rest of the Scoobies to deal with the consequences of the night. Xander clung to Willow who clung to herself. Giles stayed in Buffy's doorway, watching her for signs of life. He knew how easily it could have been her carted away to a slab in the morgue. Angel leaned against the wall, on guard and safe so long as no one made him go outside or near a window. Though he and Buffy had faced their own demons and were parting, he still loved her.

Of course, the guilt was intense. More demons attached to his conscience and refused to let go this time. He'd almost killed her in his innate desire to live, well, survive. No one seemed to blame him but he continued to blame himself. Buffy was in critical condition, Faith dead. Who knew how things would go one from here?

Somewhere far away Destiny Powell woke from a sound sleep, breathing hard. One was dead and the next was called. The Hellmouth began to call her name, reaching out over the distance to draw her in. She closed her eyes and tried to deal with the power and promise cycling through her veins. For all her training she never had any expectation to be called and yet here she was. Chosen.

The Slayer.