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One Dead Summer

Chapter Text


by Lezzinbout


“You said that before, dear. Here, I've brought the chaplain for you.” The nurse intones comfortingly, gently patting one bandaged hand.

The hospital's church representative was a balding older gentleman with kind eyes behind his bifocals.

“Bless you, my child.”

The priest lays a cheap plastic rosary softly atop the white sheet covering her legs and begins to pray.



The brunette falters in her spin around the pole, nearly falling headfirst onto the stage. She looks around for the voice that screamed her name.

There’s the usual hooting and catcalls from the crowd, but no face reflects the despair she'd heard in that cry.
…....that voice…


Okay, she has to go.



She leaves the stage abruptly to a chorus of boos.

No matter.

The Slayer in her is driving her body now, and she knows enough to follow its call.



The doctor and nurse both stare down at her unblemished hands, the perfect nails and fingertips that just a few days ago had been torn to bloody shreds.

The doctor breathes, and Buffy feels her heart drop at the fear and greed in his eyes.


Faith suddenly enters, the 250-pound security guard dangling from one arm barely slowing her down.

She's dusty, disheveled and as battered as the duffel bag she's wearing, but Buffy has never seen a more welcome sight.

“We out.”

By the time Buffy's ripped out her IV she's been tossed unceremoniously out the window.

She hears Faith jump out after her, both of them spinning in midair before Faith lands neatly on her feet with 100 lbs of shaky blonde in her arms.

“Can you walk, B?”

The question is needless, as the blonde is already striding away, stretching her limbs experimentally. She tries a few roundhouse kicks and a flip just to be sure.

“Ok.” Faith says, and tries to think.

Where can they go?

Her old motel is about 4 miles away.

But the heat is on, and B isnt exactly inconspicuous in her hospital gown, and barefoot to boot.

Stashing the blonde away and coming back for her is not exactly an option, seeing as how she's already looking at Faith with an expression so seldom seen aimed in her direction it takes a minute to recognize it.


Complete trust.

Just then Faith remembers the knapsack she's still wearing.


“C'mon B, put these on.”

And there is where the weirdness starts.