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Author's Chapter Notes:
Aren't I kind to you all? Enjoy!
The following morning, Buffy’s alarm clock woke her at six o’clock after a restless sleep filled with shadows and cold, serpent-like eyes. She blearily thumped the button to turn it off and rolled onto her back with a groan. A sudden shudder ripped through her and she bolted upright, heart pounding. The chill fingers of dread caressed her spine. Something bad was going to happen today.

She dressed in her freshly-pressed suit quickly, using make-up to hide her pale cheeks and the dark smudges under her eyes. Pulling her hair into a ponytail, she bypassed breakfast, her stomach unsettled after her nightmares. She took a deep, steadying breath and walked down the hall to the suite. As usual, Wesley opened the door to a surprised boss.

She sighed. “Wesley, what time do you get up?”

His eyes twinkled as he smiled. “With the birds.”

“The only birds in LA are really, really not morning people.”

He grinned and she smiled thinly, going to the kitchen and returning a moment later to help the butler set up for breakfast; after the first morning, both men had agreed to eat breakfast at the table rather than in bed. Willow and Anya arrived together, and Buffy smiled at the short, red-headed man who pulled her friend back for a kiss before gently urging her through the door. He caught her staring and raised an eyebrow before he turned and strolled out of sight.

Buffy pulled her blushing friend aside and spoke quickly and quietly to her. “Willow, I might need some time off today, so you and Wes might have to hold the fort.” She stopped, scrunching up her nose. “I don’t get that. It’s not a fort, it’s a suite. Anyway, do you think you can?”

Willow giggled before sobering. “Sure, but... Why? If you don’t mind me asking. I’m not trying to be nosy or anything, honest!”

Buffy smiled weakly. “I don’t know, I’ve just got this feeling...”

They were interrupted by Buffy’s phone chirping merrily. The blonde jumped before she recognised the sound, fishing it out of her pocket and flipping it open. She looked at the number and went pale, swaying on her feet. Willow supported her as she sank into a chair and pressed the green button on her phone.

“Robin?”

The familiar deep voice came sounded strained. “It’s time, Buffy. She wants you here.”

Buffy felt her eyes sting. “Of course. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Just... Tell her to hold on.”

She clicked the button to end the call and pushed the phone back into her pocket as if in a dream. Willow looked at her worriedly and opened her mouth to say something when Spike and Xander wandered into the room, both looking pale and a little tired, Spike more so than his friend.

They stopped when they saw Buffy, eyes blankly locked on the floor in front of her, face colourless. Spike cautiously approached and Willow discreetly stepped back, turning and motioning for Xander to follow her out of the room, closing the door quietly behind them. Spike crouched at Buffy’s side, hesitantly brushing a loose strand of hair away from her face.

“Pet?”

She started at the sound of his voice, and he felt her begin to tremble slightly. Her eyes glittered with unshod tears, her voice hoarse. “I have to... I have to go. Wesley and Willow will take care of anything you need.”

He didn’t like the way she continued to stare at the floor, shutting the world out. Shutting him out. “Buffy, what’s wrong?”

“Faith.” He blinked, thrown; seeing it, she carried on. “My sister. She’s...” She swallowed hard. “She’s was diagnosed with breast cancer six months ago, but it was too late. She’s dying. I have to go to her.”

Spike wordlessly embraced her as she suddenly threw herself into his arms, body wracked with silent sobs as hot tears scalded her cheeks. They stayed like that for a long time, Buffy venting her grief and pain, Spike holding her and rocking her soothingly, his heart aching at her capacity for love.

She finally pulled herself together, sitting back and looking at him from red-rimmed eyes, her face blotchy from crying. He thought she looked beautiful. She tried a smile, rising a little unsteadily to her feet. “Sorry I got you all yucky.”

He smiled softly in return. “S’ok, kitten.”

She pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek and headed for the door. Words weren’t necessary between them.

Having explained the situation to the suite staff and then to Angel and Cordy, Buffy felt emotionally drained. Driving out of LA towards Sunnydale, her home town and Faith’s final destination when she became too sick to care for herself, she thought about Faith. Her boyfriend, Robin Wood, had been more supportive to the whole family than they’d ever dreamed he would be, taking care of his ailing lover without help from anyone unless it was desperately needed.

At thirty years old, Faith was five years Buffy’s senior. She had always been a highly protective sister, but she had led a far more daring lifestyle than Buffy, partying all night and sleeping the day away. She’d eloped to Vegas with her then-boyfriend Ted on her twenty-third birthday, marrying him and returned after a four-month-long extended honeymoon there to announce that she was pregnant.

Her daughter had been the light of Faith’s life, and she’d given up her wild ways to care for the baby. Even while her relationship with her daughter flourished, her marriage deteriorated as Ted became more and more controlling and eventually became abusive. Faith had packed her bags, left him a rude note and left. She’d met Robin two years later, with her young daughter still in tow, working as a waitress in a slightly seedy diner.

He’d helped her organise care for Dawn so she could work in a more respectable establishment and she’d taken a course at the local college, emerging the proud owner of secretarial qualifications. Since then, she’d lived a fairly quiet life in Robin’s flat in New York, where he’d stayed after his mother’s murder by the local gang leader while he was still in his teens.

Faith had started feeling that something wasn’t right about a year ago. After four or five months of constantly feeling poor, Robin had taken her to the doctor. The prognosis had been grim, so they’d taken her to hospital for a more thorough examination. The doctors told a heartbroken Faith that she had been diagnosed with malignant breast cancer, and that it was too late to treat it.

As her condition worsened, the young woman had moved to Sunnydale to have closer access to Faith’s family. Joyce Summers was a strong woman, but watching the slow death of her eldest daughter had taken its toll, so Robin had moved in to care for his lover while Joyce took care of her granddaughter.

Buffy pulled up in front of the modest house on Revello with a heavy heart. She walked slowly up the path, reaching for the false rock that concealed the house key and letting herself in. Hearing the soft buzz of voices from upstairs, she quietly went up to Faith’s room and pushed the door open.

Faith lay in the large double bed, propped up by a mountain of pillows. The months of weariness and constant stress had taken their toll on her, and her once-curvy body was thin and fragile. Her long, wavy hair hung limply around her face and dark rings circled her eyes. Despite this, she smiled when she saw Buffy.

“Hey B.” Before, her voice had been strong and confident. Now it had been reduced to a slightly hoarse murmur. “Long time no see.”

Buffy, tears in her eyes, went to her. Joyce, Robin and the silent Dawn stepped away to let her pass. She knelt at the side of the bed, grasping one of her sister’s pale hands in her own. Faith turned to look at her, her breathing slow and shallow.

“Buffy, I know this is a lot to ask. You were always stronger than I was. You took care of me, in your own way. You were never angry, you never judged me, you were just there to support me. When I had Dawnie...” She stopped, eyes drifting closed wearily. “When I had Dawnie, you were the only one I knew would be alright with my decisions. I love Robin, but I can’t ask him to raise a child, not even his child, on his own.” She smiled at the tall black man and he smiled back, eyes glittering with tears.

Faith looked back at Buffy, her hand squeezing weakly. “Look after Dawnie for me. You know Mom is too old to be raising teenagers again. We were bad enough.” Buffy made a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob. Faith smiled. “Please. Take care of my baby. She needs someone who can... understand... her.”

Exhausted, the dark-haired woman closed her eyes. Buffy gently placed the delicate hand at her sister’s side, rising unsteadily to her feet. “I love you, Faithy.” Her voice was choked, silent tears running down her cheeks as her heart grew heavy in her chest, seeming to crack a little more with each beat until finally she gave in, pain swelling in her chest until she couldn’t breathe except to cry.

She sank to the floor, surprised when a sobbing Dawn collapsed into her arms. She embraced the little girl, pulling herself together enough to stroke the long, light brown hair and murmur soothingly. She watched as though from a distance as Faith’s chest rose and fell, rose and fell, rose and... stopped. Joyce buried her face in her hands while Robin comforted her, though his broad shoulders shook and his face was suddenly old with pain.

Buffy rose to her feet, cradling the tiny six-year-old to her chest. She went over to the bed, bent over and, a little awkwardly, pressed a kiss to the forehead of her sister. Dawn squirmed and Buffy set her gently down on the bed. The girl pressed her tiny fingers to her mother’s still lips, tracing the slight smile there. Then she began to cry, great, heaving sobs that shook her entire body.

The little blonde lifted her niece, carried her out the door and into the bedroom she had used as a teenager. Settling on the bed, she rocked and shushed until the girl fell into an exhausted sleep, then she went back to the bedroom where Faith had taken her last breath and embraced her mother and her sister’s lover as they cried out their grief and pain.

As a fatigued Dawn slept and a hoarse-voiced Robin and Joyce discussed funeral arrangements, Buffy packed up the little girl’s things. Dawn slept through Buffy’s final goodbye to Faith and to Robin and her mother. She didn’t wake until her worn out and emotionally shattered aunt laid her down in the large four-poster bed in the apartment.

“Aunt Buffy?” The sleepy voice was so quiet it was almost inaudible. Buffy sat down on the edge of the bed and stroked the girl’s head.

“What is it, Dawnie?”

“When will I see Mommy again?”

Buffy smiled sadly. “Whenever you want to. She’s still here, all around us, watching us. All you have to do is remember her, and you can see her again.”

Dawn’s lip trembled before she began to cry again, softly this time, until she drifted into the sleep of an exhausted child. Buffy changed into her pyjamas and crawled into her bed, not bothering with anything else. She curled around the small body sharing her home, gratified and strangely comforted when Dawn turned in her sleep, instinctively cuddling into the body of her aunt.

That night, Buffy’s dreams were full of memories of Faith during happier times, and she smiled in her sleep as a sense of great peace came over her. Wherever she was, Faith was no longer troubled by her illness and she was free of pain. And although she missed her already, Buffy knew that one day, she’d see Faith again.





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