TheGreatestOfThese

Part 15 of the Summer Vacation Series

Disclaimer: Nope, don't own Faith, either. Catch me if you can.

Author's note: Some bad language (again). I apologize in advance

Archive- Sure, but email me and let me know where it�s going.

Feedback- Absolutely.

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"Dear Wesley: I'm writing to tell you how sorry I am"

Scribble. Crumple.

"Dear Wesley: I know there's no way I can ever apologize for"

Crumple. Toss.

Faith stared at the blank sheet of paper until her vision started to blur, then turned her eyes to the window. Outside, the prison exercise yard was an unrelieved wash of yellow, between the women's jumpsuits and the dry desert soil.

Angel had been right about one thing in his little canned speech, she thought. It wasn't easy.

Faith glanced around the room, the prison library. There were three other women with her, two Latinas about her own age and a slim blonde, probably in her thirties. The two younger women were whispering together furiously, their anger causing their voices to begin to rise.

Damn, Faith thought. A fight was about to start, and then they'd clear the library.

One of the girls jumped to her feet, and the other followed a moment later. The blonde stood as well and crossed to the girls.

"Ladies," she said gently. "Take it easy now. If you start fighting, you'll both lose privileges, and what's the point of that? We can talk this out. Just take a deep breath, now."

"She started it," the first girl hissed.

"She's a stuck-up bitch," the second responded.

"Easy," the blonde said, her voice calm and reasonable. "I know it's hard, all closed in like this. Tensions get high. Little things get out of hand. But in a little while, it won't matter. Really... is it worth it?"

The first girl's anger seemed to deflate. "You're right, Miriam," she said. "I'm sorry."

But the second girl was not so easily calmed. "This ain't none of your business, bitch," she snarled, swinging her fist towards Miriam's face.

Faith moved so quickly, none of the women saw her coming until her hand had closed around the attacker's fist, halting it mid-throw.

"I don't think so," she said, her voice dangerous and low.

"There a problem, ladies?" One of the guards had stepped in from the hall.

The two Latinas turned, alarmed, but Miriam spoke again in that soft, reasonable tone. "Not at all, ma'am. Just showing the girls some of the ropes."

The guard pointed to the girl who had attacked. "You, Pilar," she said. "You know you've been barred from the library. Go back to the yard."

The girl cast a hateful look to the rest of the group, then withdrew, followed by the guard. Miriam gave Faith a grateful smile. "That was nice work," the older woman said. "I guess I owe you for saving me a black eye."

"Forget it," Faith said.

"I'm Miriam," said Miriam.

"Faith."

Miriam nodded. "A good name," she said.

- - - - - - - - -

Faith looked for an empty or near-empty table. Her pen and a few sheets of paper lay on her lunch tray next to her food. She was trying to forget they were there.

"Faith," said Miriam's voice behind her. "Why don't you join our table?"

Faith looked first at the older woman, then to where she was pointing, a half-empty table with a few women Miriam's age, and two younger girls. She shrugged and followed.

She had taken a few bites of food when Miriam and the other women joined hands around the table. Uncertainly, Faith took the hands of the women on either side.

"Lord, be our guest at this table," Miriam said. "Let us know in our hearts that even in this place we can never be separated from your love. Amen."

A few of the women repeated, "Amen," then all dropped their hands and began to eat. But Faith's appetite was gone.

�Are you alright, Faith?� Miriam asked after a moment.

Faith looked at her, startled.

�I� I�m sorry,� she said. �I�m not really religious.�

�It�s alright,� Miriam said. �I didn�t start out that way, either.�

Faith stood and gathered her tray. �I�m sorry,� she said again. �But this really��

Miriam raised a hand to stop her, but Faith had moved away, and she went to another table to eat alone.

- - - - - - - - - -

Faith sat by herself in a corner of the exercise yard, her papers balanced on her knee. She had gotten no further than �Dear Wesley� and was even now wondering if the �Dear� part of it was too much. Angel had told her she needed to apologize. Or maybe it was that she needed to be sorry. It was all jumbled together in her mind.

And she couldn�t stop thinking about Miriam.

Faith had met religious types before, with their meaningless catch phrases and unnatural chipperness, but Miriam was different. She was the last thing Faith expected.

Faith looked around her. She might very well be here for a long time, and as Angel had predicted she was haunted, and she hurt.

She couldn�t apologize to the people she�d murdered. And was there even any way to apologize to the people she�d brought other kinds of suffering to: Buffy, Angel, and especially Wesley? Buffy and Angel were strong, but her ex-Watcher� she had deliberately hurt him as much as she could, and for no other reason than he was weaker than she was. Like the cat that plays with a mouse.

Faith crumpled the remaining paper into a ball, and crushed it smaller and smaller in her hands. Then she stood and went looking for Miriam.

She found her in the prison chapel, polishing the plain wooden altar with oil. She looked up as Faith came in.

�I�m sorry I made you uncomfortable today,� she said.

Faith stopped short. She had expected to be doing the apologies. �It�s okay,� she said uncertainly.

�Did you want me to pray with you?� Miriam asked.

�No, I�� Faith stopped again, �I don�t know why I�m here,� she said finally.

Miriam stepped down from the altar, and gestured towards the first row of benches. �Sit down,� she said. �We�ll talk.�

Faith did, and Miriam sat beside her.

�I don�t need to confess my sins,� Faith said defensively.

�That�s good,� Miriam told her, �because I cannot give absolution.�

Faith was confused now. �You wouldn�t believe it anyway,� she said. �You can�t understand what I�ve done.�

Miriam nodded gravely. �Do you even understand it?� she said.

�I�� Faith shook her head. �Don�t you get it? I�m not like you. I�ll never be like you. I�m not made for praying and singing hymns and��

�My given name was not Miriam,� the older woman interrupted.

Faith blinked, unsure of what to say.

�I was born Rhonda Mae Gallagher. Does that name mean anything to you?�

Faith shook her head slowly.

�I shouldn�t be surprised,� Miriam said almost to herself. �You would have been only a kid.� She lowered her gaze, the first time Faith had ever seen her anything but confident.

�In 1986,� Miriam began, �a man named Teddy Mack Forster and I went on a killing spree that crossed three states and lasted five days. When it was over, sixteen people were dead, including Teddy. At my trial, I blamed drugs, the devil, my mother, and anything else I thought I could lay my crimes on. I was sentenced. A death sentence.�

Faith couldn�t speak. Looking at this quiet, gentle woman she could not imagine her even raising her voice, let alone committing murder.

�A woman named Ruth took me under her wing,� Miriam continued. �I fought her, I resisted, I said absolutely hateful things. But she didn�t give up on me. She wore on me, and wore on me, and finally I opened up, just a little bit. But it was enough.�

Miriam took Faith�s hands, and the slayer was too numb to resist. �It was like I became a new person, and I took another name. I joined Ruth in her work, and she and others on the outside begged the courts for clemency. The day my death sentence was commuted to life in prison, there were over three hundred people demanding my death outside the courthouse.�

Faith lowered her eyes, deeply regretting her earlier words.

�Every day is a gift to me,� Miriam said softly. �I will die in this prison, and I will die never knowing if I have redeemed myself for even one of the deaths I caused. But that doesn�t stop me from trying.�

She gave the younger woman�s hand a re-assuring squeeze, and Faith looked up, her dark eyes troubled.

�I don�t�� Faith began, then faltered and fell silent.

�It�s okay,� Miriam said. �When you�re ready, I�ll be here.�

- - - - - - - - - -

Faith sat in her cell, a pen of paper on her knee and the end of her ballpoint tucked in the corner of her mouth. She looked through the bars, across the hallway, and out the window at the darkening sky.

The sun�s down now, she thought, and she took her pen and began to write.

�Dear Angel:

�I�m writing to you because I know that you�re the only one who can understand. I don�t know what I expected when I turned myself in. I wanted to change, but I really didn�t know if I could. I still don�t.

�But I don�t think I�m falling anymore.

�I don�t know if I can ever apologize to anyone that I�ve hurt, or make up for what I�ve done, but you know that. I can only try. I understand that now.�

Faith chewed the end of her pen thoughtfully.

�Thank you for everything and good luck. Maybe someday we�ll see each other again in a better situation.�

And then she simply signed her name.

Through the bars, she could see the last of the twilight fade to black.

Part 16- Buffy: Surf City
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