Title: Shed Her Skin

Author: Syn

E-Mail: veruca_werewolf@hotmail.com

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Wesley and Faith deal with old wounds.

Content: Faith/Wesley, slight Wes/Lilah - Wesley's POV

Spoilers: Salvage

Time Period: Post-Salvage

Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me.

A/N: Ahh...Salvage, possibly the greatest episode of Angel EVER. lol I felt compelled to write a post-episode fic centered around Faith and Wesley, but I had to have some fall out from Lilah's death in it since I kinda miss her and W/L.

Feedback: Yes please.

When I found her, she was coughing up blood, her fingers gripping her ribs so hard I could see each delicate bone in her hand. The smell of melted rock and burnt flesh hung heavy in the air as I dashed into the warehouse through a broken window. The sun turned everything a blinding feast of colors so that the blood on her face was brighter than anything I've ever seen.

I faltered once, taking in the broken appearance and the rasping suck of breath she drew into her lungs. I wasn't sure if she was dying or drowning or any number of things, but I really didn't want to see it. I'd had too much death and destruction lately and seeing the strongest woman I know coughing up her own blood was a sobering reality that I couldn't quite wrap my mind around.

Then she noticed me and looked up through a tangle of brown hair and I could see the fire in her eyes, burning like the pile of smoldering rock in front of her. I rushed to her side and smiled weakly down at her, my hands pressing to one of the wounds on her stomach.

"You did it!" I exclaimed as she moaned and glared at me.

"I didn't."

"What?"

"Angelus killed the rock-guy." She coughed again and spat out a mouthful of blood that pooled in the dust at her side. I grabbed the hem of my shirt and ripped it in half and then handed it to her. She took it without looking at me, swiping the drying blood away from her mouth.

"Why?"

"You're asking me? I don't fucking know. Just...I gotta shower."

"This is interesting to say the least...you sure he didn't give you any clues or...?" I stopped short as she glared at me again. Obviously she didn't want to talk about it right now. Then, I remembered my manners and helped her up, as unresisting as her body was. She shook all over, her knees weak as she tried to support herself on them. She coughed again and spat out more blood, so much that I felt fear shoot across my heart. "Do you need medical attention?"

"No, just a warm place to sleep and a shower. I'm a lot tougher than I look, Wes."

Of course she was. I wasn't so far removed from my former position that I didn't know how much stamina and strength she possessed. Her hurts now would be healed over completely in the morning and she wouldn't need my help to stand. But right now, she did need me and it was obvious in the fact that she didn't let go of my arm as she took tentative steps in the direction of the car. She faltered halfway and doubled over in pain.

"Faith...you really should get medical attention." I pressed, eyeing her stomach, where the pink shirt I'd stolen from Cordelia gaped open to reveal a mass of purple and black bruises that was slowly spreading over the pale peach skin.

"No."

And that was all she would say about it. I knew I couldn't make her do something she didn't want to do, but I wouldn't let her hurt herself further by walking when I could just as easily carry her. I picked her up before she could protest. She settled in my arms easily enough and surprisingly, she just laid her head on my shoulder, her eyes closing.

I didn't say anything and neither did she as I walked back to the car with her in my arms. She started to get heavier with each step, but months of constant fighting had increased my own strength and stamina. Still, I was glad when we got back to my SUV, parked three blocks from the warehouse near the wash.

I set her in the car and then climbed in myself. I didn't know where Connor and Gunn were, but as soon as they saw the sun's return, I knew they'd head back to the hotel to regroup. As I started the vehicle, she curled up in the seat, her fingers clenching her ribs and her eyes cast to the sky, where the sun burned through the brown pollution that settled like a blanket over Los Angeles.

Slowly, I drove her home to my apartment.

"Nice place." Faith croaked as I set her on the couch.

"Thanks. Stay right there."

"Yeah, like I'm moving." She said as another cough wracked her body. She'd stopped coughing up blood, but her lungs were still making a disturbing sucking sound whenever she drew in a breath. I knew that too, would soon stop, but every time I heard it, I could feel dread seep through my bones.

When I came back with my First Aid kit, she was curled up on the couch, her eyes closed and her face serene. I paled and stood stock still until I saw her chest rise and fall. A wave of relief washed over me as I crouched down before her. Her eyes cracked open as I took her hand in my own and started cleaning the shallow cuts. She winced as I picked bits of rock out of the wounds; remnants of the Beast's stony hide, I assumed.

I moved to her face and then her shoulder, cleaning as she watched me in silence. Her breath steadily evened out until she was breathing normally--which was a relief to my system. I didn't have to force a smile onto my face as she sat up and ran a bloodstained hand through her hair. Her shirt lifted up and I could see the bruise on her stomach turning an ugly shade of black. She winced as the muscles pulled and bunched.

"Thanks Wes." She said, as if it hurt to actually say it to someone, especially me. "About that shower...?"

"Yes of course. Do you need help?"

"No, I'm cool." She said as she stood up and then swayed on her feet. I caught her by the elbows and steadied her on her feet. She smiled in amusement. "Been a while since I've had the shit beat out of me. It's usually the other way around."

I winced, remembering all too well what the feel of her knuckles on my face was like. Despite three years and my own walk on the supposed dark side, I was still very aware of what this young girl was capable of. She was still the same person, but she'd changed too. There was pain and quiet understanding in her eyes now, something that only time and atonement could have brought. I respected that glint in her dark brown irises and that's what is keeping me from shuddering away from her even now.

"Yes, well it's not everyday you're involved in a prison break and an Apocalypse."

"Gotta be a precedent. Maybe I'll get in the history books, huh Watcher-man?" She smiled bitterly as I frowned, but didn't correct her. I wasn't her Watcher, but I was fine with her thinking that. "So...shower? Or am I gonna stink up your nice place all day?"

I shot her a tight-lipped smile and directed her to the bathroom, where she gave me a cheeky grin, then pushed me back into my bedroom. The door closed behind her and I managed to smile. She was definitely still the same Faith.

While she took a shower, I got busy cleaning myself up. I wasn't unscathed from my own fight with the two vampires outside the warehouse. There were bruises over other half-healed bruises and abrasions across my stomach from being thrown across the rough pavement. When I heard the shower stop, I quickly pulled on a clean pair of trousers and searched for something that she could wear, since the borrowed clothing was so soiled.

The door opened and I turned to stare at the apparition before me.

Her hair was the same at first glance and the brown eyes were the same, quick and sly as a fox. Her body moved with a liquid grace, legs shifting under the expensive trousers. The swell of her breasts teased me from the opened slit on the front of the matching silk blouse. She was here; she was real. She wasn't dead.

She was there, until I blinked to clear the dazzle from my eyes and really looked at the woman before me. Her hair was wet and lay in limp curls, soiling the expensive silk as water dripped down the back. Her face was pale and bruised and there was no hint of that sharp, ready smile beneath the nude lips. The shirtsleeves were too long and they covered her thumbs, the trousers were too loose in the hips and sagged where there should be rounder curves to fill it out.

No, she was not her, but she was wearing her skin as if she were trying to be. A hot, sick twist of guilt and shame and rage tore through my gut.

"Where did you get that?"

"It was hanging up in the bathroom. I thought you left it for me..."

"No. I didn't." I forced out through my bared teeth as she tugged at the silken purple hem of the shirt.

"Oh. Well, I--"

"Take it off." I said, swallowing hard as she glared at me.

"Wesley? You okay?"

"Take it off! You're not her! You're Faith."

"No shit, Sherlock! Her who?" She said as I advanced on her. She was surprised as I invaded her personal space, anger making my head buzz and my vision blur. Exhaustion swept over me and I swayed in place. "Wes?"

"Take it off...please."

"Okay...yeah. Taking it off now." She moved to walk away, but I caught her wrist in my hand and pushed her back against the wall. She gave a grunt and I saw her fingers curl into a dangerous red fist. I waited for her to strike me, but she watched with wide eyes as I let go of her wrist and started unbuttoning the blouse. "Need some help there?"

I ignored her and pulled the shirt open. Her prison-issued bra was the faded gray color of used dishwater and it stood out obscenely against her pale, bruised flesh. She shuddered beneath me as her damp skin met the air. I pulled the blouse down her arms and trapped her there against the wall, then reached my hand around to her backside. She arched against me as I fumbled for the zipper I knew was there.

How many times had I taken these off of her? My mind was a whirlwind of emotion as I found the zipper and pulled it down, and then tugged the trousers down over her hips. She stepped out of them like a snake shedding its skin; only, she was shedding a skin that she should never have put on.

Faith wasn't Lilah--she was too good for that and I knew it. Seeing the woman she'd become and then seeing her as the most recent of my many failures had been too much. I'd nearly snapped and done something very stupid.

Kneeling before her, I took a deep, exhausted breath and tilted my head to the floor. I wasn't sure what I was doing, or why or how or even a million things that didn't make sense. I felt her hand touch my hair and thread back through the thick, dirty bramble. She tilted my face upward and smiled gently.

"I'm sorry." I said around the lump in my throat.

"No problem. It's been awhile since I've been undressed by someone who wasn't about to do a full cavity search on me. So...who is she?" Her smile swirled through my senses and I suddenly realized that she was nearly naked before me, pinned to my bedroom wall, water trickling down her arms from her wet, freshly washed hair. All her wounds were pink and clean and raw looking, but they weren't as bad as they'd been an hour ago.

"Lilah."

"The lawyer that Angelus killed? Oh." She nodded and let the conversation drop. She obviously thought my love life was none of her business and she was right.

I stood up, face red and my lips pressed together, Lilah's forgotten clothing clenched in my fist. I moved to walk away and Faith grabbed my arm in her strong fingers. I was pulled back flush against her, as she held on tight. I met her brown gaze as she tilted her face up toward mine.

I'm not really sure what drew my head down to her lips, but our mouths met for one brief kiss that sparked something in me that I don't really want to think about. She pulled away first and smiled.

"Thank you. And I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize. I'm the one that should apologize for--"

"I wasn't talking about the freak out. I meant, for what...what I did." I knew immediately what she was talking about. Seeing Faith apologizing was like watching someone pulling their own intestines out. It was painful for both of us and I hurt just as much as she did watching it. "Torturing you." She supplied in case I didn't quite get her meaning.

"I knew what you were talking about. I just...didn't think I'd ever hear that."

"And I never thought you'd strip me half-naked in your apartment and NOT fuck me. Talk about a let-down." She said flippantly and then pushed me out of the way. She walked to my closet, picked out a shirt and a pair of sweatpants and then left the bedroom without looking back.

I smiled and sat down on the bed, staring at Lilah's clothing crumpled in my fist. The smile slid away as I fingered the expensive silk that still smelled like her. It took me nearly three seconds to stand and throw them in the dustbin. I walked away; finally shedding her skin and the bitter ache it caused.

I would heal, just as Faith would. And perhaps we could do it together.