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SDC #16
Buffy
::as requested by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
allygatorkin::
Faith could never quite imagine dying, which was sorta odd when you thought about the time she had spent good-as-dead in a coma. She knew that she would die, probably sooner rather than later, but she had never quite considered the circumstances. She’d vaguely assumed it would be in battle, and that was that. Not for her the Andrew-like postulating of possible futures.
And now, here it was. The moment of her death. Or should it be The Moment Of Her Death? Was this the kind of thing that deserved capital letters and hushed tones? The last of the original slayers would be gone. Not that anyone would notice. Particularly.
In her dying breath, Faith realised that her life had been wasted on one giant inferiority complex. She wasn’t the one. She would never be the one. And then the potentials were made slayers, and she became even less important. Nothing. Pointless. A waste of everyone’s time. Christ, she was fucked up.
And then she died. And people mourned. But not as many as might had she not been so determined to be only, always, the second best.
::as requested by
allygatorkin::Faith could never quite imagine dying, which was sorta odd when you thought about the time she had spent good-as-dead in a coma. She knew that she would die, probably sooner rather than later, but she had never quite considered the circumstances. She’d vaguely assumed it would be in battle, and that was that. Not for her the Andrew-like postulating of possible futures.
And now, here it was. The moment of her death. Or should it be The Moment Of Her Death? Was this the kind of thing that deserved capital letters and hushed tones? The last of the original slayers would be gone. Not that anyone would notice. Particularly.
In her dying breath, Faith realised that her life had been wasted on one giant inferiority complex. She wasn’t the one. She would never be the one. And then the potentials were made slayers, and she became even less important. Nothing. Pointless. A waste of everyone’s time. Christ, she was fucked up.
And then she died. And people mourned. But not as many as might had she not been so determined to be only, always, the second best.
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*thinking thinky thoughts*
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I have some more Faith/Dean to read, acually. Mustn't forget. (No parental supervision this afternoon either...)
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