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End of Days: The Waking of Faith

Chapter Text

Chapter 1

Summary: Faith wakes from a coma to find the world has gone to hell. First part of a massive crossover series.
Disclaimer: I don’t own BtVS or Angel, Joss does. AMC owns Walkers and The Walking Dead.
Note: This is a rewrite of a story I posted long ago on another fic site.

Chapter One

And I looked and behold a pale horse,
and the man that sat on him was death.
And Hell followed with him.’


Sunnydale – June 9th, 2004 (5:37 pm)

If the blood splattered hospital hallways weren’t an indication, Faith Lehane knew that something was terribly wrong as she stepped out the front doors of Sunnydale Memorial Hospital and took in the sight of the piles of human bodies and the dozens upon dozens of abandoned cars that littered the streets. Even as a slayer there was never a thought or expectation in her young mind that she would have ever had to deal with anything even remotely like this. Judging by the utter lack of life around the should-have-been well traversed streets, Faith was fairly sure she was very alone. It wasn't a good feeling.
She took a sweeping glance around the area as she slowly made her way down the small stairs that led down to the street, and quickly walked over to the nearest of the seemingly abandoned cars, quickly discovering that they weren’t all as abandoned as they appeared, when as she reached into the backseat of the Buick through the open window did she see the dessicated corpse of the driver, slumped over the steering wheel.

Faith was no doctor, or even a medical student, but was fairly certain that the man had been dead for at least a month at the minimum, and that raised all sorts of questions in her mind. The first of which being how was she even alive, with anyone that may have survived whatever it was that had happened having seemingly fled quite some time ago, and no one checking her.

As she began to ponder the possibility that she actually was dead, and this was some kind of hell, brought on by her accidental murder of the deputy mayor, even if she’d pulled back from the dark side at the last moment to help save the life of her sister slayer Buffy’s friend Xander, pushing him out of the way of the transformed mayor’s heavy tail as it launched both her and that football jock Larry off the ground and that had been the last thing she remembered before waking up in the empty hospital.

Shrugging her wandering thoughts to the back of her mind, Faith tore her eyes away from the form of the dead man, then grabbed hold of the duffel bag by the handles and hauled it out of the car.

Quickly moving to the back of the car, she set the duffel atop the trunk and unzipped it before letting a relieved grin onto her face as she grabbed the oversized AC/DC t-shirt and replaced the hospital issue smock, letting the offensive smelling garb fall to the ground, carried slightly on a gust of wind to fall on the pavement a few feet from where she stood, and she pulled the tee down over her head to cover her nudity once more.

Doubting that she’d find pants that fit amongst the dead man’s clothes, she quickly abandoned the bag filled with clothes as she spotted a cop car parked haphazardly on the corner, and began to make her way over.

Finding blood smeared on the exterior of the closed driver’s side door, she takes another look around the area, some nagging buzz at the back of her mind screaming at her to run her ass off, away from what ever had caused all this.

She doubted it was the mayor, who’d have likely finished the job of killing her had he survived that day. Certainly she’d not have made it to the hospital and been giving a chance to survive her own injuries, not after her betrayal of the evil, yet doting politician.

Again she pushed the nagging thoughts and doubts down, feeling annoyed with herself for the inability to focus on the situation she currently found herself in. She lets out a couple deep breaths, attempting to center herself and at the same cursing herself silently for not having cared enough to pay attention to Giles as he’d tried to teach her and B the proper techniques.

Her right hand came up to the handle on the driver’s side door of the police cruiser, pulling it up and opening the door. She leans into the car and begins fumbling with the lock on the plastic ‘box’ that held several police-issue Glocks and a shotgun, using the paperclip she found on the floor as she’d leaned in, to make short work of picking the padlock.

Normally she’d just use her slayer strength to simply rip the lock from the mechanism, but as she still felt the disorientation from however long she’d been comatose, she decided to just do things the normal way until the weakness and fatigue she felt went away. She hoped that it would just take a decent meal, and maybe a real night’s sleep for her slayer healing to kick in and do its work properly.

She pushed open the lid of the plastic box, quickly grabbing the two smaller guns from the box and shoving them into the waistband of the thin cloth pants that were pulled with around her slim form so the guns wouldn’t slip down, making sure that both were secure and then she grabbed the shotgun.

At the sound of a growl from behind her, she pulled back out of the car, and spun to face the seemingly dead woman that was hobbling towards where the slayer stood, her profile a truly gruesome sight, between the woman’s half rotted flesh, the blood dribbling from her mouth and the pupil-less milky eyes.

Faith ponders running for half a second, leaving the apparent walking corpse to hobble off elsewhere, but is surprised into pulling the trigger on the shotgun, catching the zombie in the chest as it suddenly lunges at her, hands held out like talons in front of it, and bloody teeth bared and gnashing.

The blast met the zombie full on, exploding the ribcage and sending the walker to the ground, the impact of the shot launching it off its feet to land on it’s back with a thump that echoes against the store fronts that lined the street ahead.

The dark slayer quickly reloads the chamber, her hand pulling the sliding piece of the shotgun back and then pushes it forward again to prime another shot, in the likely chance she’d need it.

Her eyes widen almost impossibly as the woman she had just blasted starts to pull itself up on it’s useless legs, and then when that fails to work, begins crawling toward Faith, snarling and growling as it pulled itself along the concrete road.

Faith levels the shotgun at the zombie’s head as she maneuvers her way around it, deciding at the last moment to save the remaining shotgun shells for the time being, and pulls out one of the handgun.

She clicks the safety off as she quickly comes up behind the downed zombie, pressing one foot into its back and pushing it down against the street before pressing the barrel of the glock in her hand to the back of it’s skull and pulling the trigger.

Blood and viscera sprays in an outward arc from the front of the zombie’s head, the being in question collapsing to the bloodstained pavement, not moving at all now.

“Hmmm.” Faith muses as she takes another glance around the area, worried that the loud shots that were still ringing in her ears hadn’t drawn any more of the creatures to her. “Guess Romero was right on a few things.” She remarks to herself, deciding to take the opportunity to find a safe place to hide out for the night.

With the sun looking close to setting on the horizon, she didn’t much like her chances of survival remaining out on the streets after darkness fell upon the town, things were dangerous enough in these parts, even without the added threat of zombies roaming around unfettered, and her desire to not become the victim of mindless cannibals.

Deciding to speed up her pursuit of finding a safe haven, she quickly returns to the cop car, quickly pulling the plastic covering off of the underbelly of the drivers side dashboard, quickly working to spark the engine to life by fiddling with the wires until she hears the telltale rumbling of the motor slowly coming to life.

She lets out a subdued cry of satisfaction as the rumbling turns into a light roar and smiles as she pulls the door shut, pressing her foot on the gas and pulling out onto the road, heading in the direction of Buffy’s house on Revello drive.

She doubted that the Summers’ would still be at their house given the apparent state of everything, but hoped that she’d find something that would give her a clue as to where B and the others had gone.

Provided, of course, that they’d even survived whatever it was that had happened here.


When she pulled the police cruiser to a stop at the curb in front of 1630 Revello drive, she realized that her doubts of Buffy and her family being long gone were proved to not be unfounded, the overgrown grass in the front yard of the house, as well as those of the neighboring houses, and the lack of Joyce Summers’ car parked in the driveway. It was clear that much like the center of town, everyone had fled from this neighborhood too or if there was someone hiding away around here, they weren't making any effort to reveal themselves to her.

Faith sits in the black and white for several long moments, her gaze just locked upon the overgrown front yard of the Summers' residence. Internally her mind was in a war with itself as she debated whether to stay for the night to search the house for some clue as to what had occurred exactly that the only moving things she'd come across so far had been zombies. Also the chance that something inside might give her an idea as to where Buffy and everyone else had gone, if they were even still alive.

Finally the once Dark Slayer makes up her mind and cautiously gets out of the vehicle. Without pause she also grabs both the shotgun, and a couple of pistols in a duffel that had been laying upon the passenger seat. Then she crosses the yard, holding onto the weapon with purpose as her gaze flickered about, on the watch for any sign of further undead that might be lurking about. Thankfully the area seems to be clear and soon enough Faith is letting herself through the unlocked front door and then closing and locking it behind her.

Turning around once inside, the slayer takes a cautious look about the entryway, worried that making noise would draw the attention of zombified versions of the Summers family on the fear and chance that they had gotten caught up in turning into one of the monsters as well. She prayed things wouldn't turn out that way.

"H-hello? Is... is anyone here?" Faith finally calls out with audible hesitance, her body tensing even as the words come out of her mouth and her grip on the shotgun tightens as she instinctually prepares for the chance of a zombie coming out from somewhere.

The next couple moments are agonizingly long and Faith felt full of nervous energy as she waits and finally realizes that she was truly alone, that neither living nor dead were nearby. She's a bit relieved for that, still unsure of where she stood with Buffy and the others but certainly not wanting them dead. That had not been part of the plan they'd cooked up to fool the mayor.

She shakes herself out of her thoughts after a moment and then slowly moves through the house on a sweep to fully ensure the safety and security of the house if she decided to remain for a day or two to make sure she was in fighting shape after what she assumed must have been a lengthy coma. After a few minutes of searching, the slayer deems the house clean and ends up in the kitchen before making her way out to the small back yard.

What she finds there makes her heart drop into her stomach and slowly Faith makes her way over to the grave markers. As she sees the names carved on the crudely constructed wooden crosses, a bit of relief fills her at the same time as sorrow as none of the names were of the Scoobies she knew. There was Anya, Caridad, Kennedy and Andrew in the row of four, none of whom she could recall having known or even met in passing.

'How long have I been out, for fuck's sake?' The slayer ponders silently to herself, in the privacy of her own mind and certainly not expecting an answer. So it's not much of a shock when she doesn't get one.

She remains in the yard for several further long moments and then following another sweeping glance about her surroundings, Faith makes her way back across the yard and into the house again. She makes quick work of locking up all entryways and then heads upstairs to the second floor to claim one of the bedrooms for the night at least.

Choosing Buffy's with little thought or pause, Faith rests the shotgun against the wall and climbs into the bed. Within a couple minutes, she's fallen back into sleep with ease.

Her dreams however, are anything but easy.

To be continued...