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Oliver Pike (notafishie) wrote in wariscoming,

This whole situation was eerily familiar. Not the possession and not the positioning, but there definitely were similarities. Back then, she'd been dead certain that she would kill him, or somehow hurt him or someone else. Was that why she'd been flinching away from him? It made a certain amount of sense, especially if she remembered everything the demon did.

He carefully reached down and used the inside of his shirt to wipe off one of her hands. She wouldn't be able to see the blood on the inside of the shirt. Then he did the same with her other hand. "This blood comes off, Faith. 'Cause you didn't do anything to anyone. It was all the demon, and it is not you. Maybe it made you think there was a connection, but there's not." And he could prove it.

He searched her sobbing face for a second, and then moved one hand, sliding it into his pocket. He felt the consecrated cross there, where he'd put it after the demon had been trapped. He pulled it out, letting it dangle a little in front of her face. "You can stop it with this." Not only was it a symbolic gesture, but he could also prove to her that she was not the demon, that she wasn't anything like it.

He silently pressed the cross into one of Faith's hands, then gently curled her fingers around it. He waited for a second and then, very quietly said, "Huh. Look at that. No burning." He locked eyes with her, and gently laid his hand back over top of hers holding the cross. "You're not her, Faith. You'll never be her." He gave her hand the tiniest of squeezes.