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Faith Lehane (slayersocialwrk) wrote in wariscoming,

Faith felt like she was in hell. Again. Being trapped inside her own mind, shoved aside by the demon, had been worse than when she was in the coma just a few short months ago. She had not only been faced with her own past, but the demon had been more than happy enough to show her horrors that drove her to the brink of insanity. She began to almost enjoy what the demon did-killing someone everytime it wanted to talk to Lilith, torturing Buffy, messing with Pike's mind. And her own reaction disgusted Faith. She really was a monster. It had gotten to the point where she had wanted nothing more than to die-in fact, when the demon had put the knife in Pike's hand and placed it against her own chest, Faith had begged him to do it from inside her mind. The demon's parting gift was that she would remember everything she had done while possessed, and things from the demon's own past.

The hours-day-since had been a blur. When Pike tried to touch her she had flinched back from his hand. She didn't want him tainted, and to her horror, she was still angry at him for not killing her. He forced her to eat sometimes, but she didn't know how much or when. It was all she could do to not throw it all back up. She managed to get out a message via her phone to everyone to apologize, but retreated when Sam started talking to her.

Sam. The thought of him brought remembered pain, and fear. He terrified her, and she knew that he shouldn't, it was just residual from the demon, but he did all the same. She didn't want to talk to him, or see him, she didn't even want to type to him.

It took a while, but she finally became aware of the need to go to the bathroom. Very slowly she uncurled herself from where she sat in a corner, and stood, walking towards the bathroom-avoiding Pike as she did so. She shut the door behind her, then went about her business. When she was done, she slowly stepped in front of the mirror. Her eyes raised to meet her own in the glass, and they stared for a moment, then widened. Superimposed over herself-or so she thought-was a second her. Not quite her, and it was smirking. It was the demon and she was trapped again.

A cry escaped her as she instinctively raised a fist and slammed it into the glass. As it shattered, shards rained down around her feet, but she just lifted her other fist and punched the mirror a second time. She didn't even realize that she was screaming.

"Not me! It's not me!"