Title: Alternate
Author: Jeanny
Rating: R
Feedback: Please. jeannygrrl@hotmail.com
Spoilers: Vague for Season 7
Distribution: I don't mind, just credit me and let me know where it's going.
Summary: A young Faith watches as her fate is decided. (Warning: mature themes and nonexplicit references to nonconsensual sexual contact with a minor)
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all the characters that appear on the show are the exclusive property of Joss Whedon, Fox, Mutant Enemy, Inc., UPN and any one else with a legal binding claim to the shows and/or characters. No copyright infringement is intended.
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It wasn't really spying, this time. Faith knew her mother hated her watching when she had men over. A major concussion at age four had made that abundantly clear. So she mostly didn't. Besides, it made her feel funny to see her mother kissing and touching those men. Like there was something bad in her stomach, something squirmy and wrong.
But this man was different. He wasn't touching or kissing her mother, only talking to her. Faith didn't think she'd ever seen her mother in a conversation before where people weren't screaming or hitting.
She didn't know who the man was; she'd been asleep when he'd arrived. The sound of breaking glass had awakened her, not in itself unusual. She'd hugged herself protectively, curious when none of the other usual sounds of violence followed. Slowly and soundlessly she'd extracted herself from the covers, poking her head out to see this stranger settle her mother gently on the sofa and take it upon himself to clean up the shattered glass from the bottle she'd dropped. Faith had been amazed by this unprecedented behavior, enough so that she'd moved slowly to her current eavesdropping spot.
She'd only meant to risk listening for a moment, but had stayed because after a few moments of spying she'd had the electric realization that they were talking about her. Something about her abilities and her future, so she had the right to hear. No, more than a right. A need. Just the same, she prudently stayed out of sight as best she could, dreading and in some ways hungrily anticipating being found out. She would be punished, she knew, but at least she would be noticed. Her existence acknowledged in some way, if only in the form of fresh bruises.
She studied the man a bit nervously. He kept asking to see `the girl', as he called her, and Faith wasn't sure that was a good thing. Sometimes, the men got bored with touching her mommy and wanted to touch...Faith didn't want to think about it. Those were the worst times. Mostly her mother wouldn't let them, but sometimes she was too drunk to even care. She was pretty drunk right now, her words slurring slightly as she flashed cleavage and leg at the man. Faith almost giggled when she saw the tops of his ears turn pink with embarrassment. He definitely was not like the others, and she relaxed a bit, edging closer so she could hear better. He talked prettier than any man who'd ever been there. He sounded all grown up and smart. Faith liked it.
"Still don't understand why you think my little girl is this...Slayer?" her mother drawled indolently, her slack face forming a vague frown as she struggled to follow the conversation.
"Potential Slayer," he corrected politely, taking a seat gingerly. He looked very uncomfortable and out of place in their shabby apartment. Faith felt sorry for him.
"Whatever," her mother said with an offhand wave. "She ain't nothing special, mister. Trust me, she takes after her daddy and he was a no good-"
"Yes. Well," the stranger interrupted, raising his voice slightly. "I realize that this has been a lot to take in. However, we make it our business to identify girls like your daughter. We find them all over the world, and when we do we make it our business to seek them out."
"S'a mistake," her mother stubbornly protested, and the man shook his head firmly.
"No. Our seers have never been wrong about such matters. We are not always able to identify a potential Slayer in her youth, but I can assure you that the girl is very special. Her gifts must be nurtured for her to reach her full potential. She'll need training, education..."
"Don't have money for nothin' like that," Faith's mother answered, her eyes glittering greedily. "I'm a poor woman, you know. Got no husband, no man to depend on. Can barely keep us all fed."
As if on cue, Faith's stomach rumbled loudly. She'd gone without dinner tonight, punishment for being alive and in the way, near as she could tell. She held her breath, but neither adult seemed to have heard the strange sound.
"I do apologize..." the man dithered, one hand rubbing his forehead absently. "I'm afraid I've failed to make myself clear. The girl cannot remain here. I'll be taking her with me."
"You're not taking my baby away from me," her mother hissed, but Faith barely heard over the joy singing in her ears. He was going to take her with him! Away from her mother's capricious wrath, from the hunger and the smell of booze and sick and the burden of trying to meet the needs of everyone but herself. Lost in her delight, she nearly forgot herself and stepped forward into the light, but at the last second she slid back into the shadows, her breath shallow with excitement. Her mother's voice was angry and strident now.
"I ain't gonna just give my precious baby girl to some strange man that shows up at my house in the middle of the night. What kind of mother do you think I am?"
"I'm quite sure I don't know," the fancy man intoned in a way that Faith knew meant he knew very well, "but I do know this. Your daughter may be destined to one day be the savior of us all, and her talents and potential must not be squandered."
"Bastard! I ain't squandering no-"
"That is to say, the Council has authorized me to compensate you well for your loss."
"What d'you mean?"
The man sighed impatiently.
"How much money will it take to induce you to give up your parental rights and let me take the girl with me tonight?"
Faith could tell her mother was thrown, and honestly she was as well. The man wanted to buy her, and memories of greasy leering faces and large rough hands flitted through her mind yet again. What if it was a trick and the man wanted to do bad things to her? Panicked, Faith began to back away even, heading for the relative safety of the closet as her mother's voice intoned triumphantly.
"Fifty thousand dollars."
Faith couldn't help it; she gasped. The sound was unmistakable and loud. She clasped her hand over her mouth but it was too late, she heard her mother curse and moments later reach for her, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her to stand next to the man.
"No! I wasn't listening!" Faith wailed desperately. "Not on purpose, I swear Momma-"
"Shut up!" her mother cut her off coldly as she stared up at the stranger fearfully. "Just stand there and be quiet."
The man eyed Faith gravely for a long moment as she stood there quaking. Up close she could see that despite his overall stiff manner, his blue-gray eyes were kind. Looking into them she no longer cared about why he wanted her, as long as they went as far away from this place and her mother's wrath as possible. She pleaded with him with her eyes, and for a moment she thought she saw the shimmer of tears in his, before he sternly eyed her mother again.
"Agreed," he replied. "Will a standard bank draft be acceptable?" Faith watched her mother's face go white, all the bitterness and bluster momentarily shocked out of her as she eyed the stranger incredulously.
"Umm...I...You're really gonna give me fifty grand? For a little girl? Cause you know I got-"
"I would like to proceed without further delay, if you don't mind. I've booked us on a flight out of the country tomorrow and there is a great deal of paperwork to go through and get executed, plus a passport to obtain for the child. You understand," the man interrupted breezily, rummaging through his briefcase and pulling out reams of legal size paper covered with writing that looked like tiny crawling ants. At least it seemed that way to Faith, who felt a wild joy growing within her, overwhelming the stunned disbelief she shared with her mother.
"Right. Of course," her mother whispered dully, then blinked suspiciously as his words fully registered. "Booked her flight? Well, aren't you pretty sure of yourself..."
"As I told you, the girl has a destiny," he said, his eyes quickly meeting Faith's then guiltily darting away. "To leave...without her was never an option." Now she was certain she saw tears, and Faith frowned, confused. Had she disappointed him somehow? Already? How?
"Knew I shoulda asked for more," Faith's mother groused. "Fifty grand ain't enough for-" Faith watched as the man's eyes darkened to a flinty gray, the anger in them unmistakable. When he spoke it was in clipped tones that burned like ice.
"I suggest that you take our offer. It's quite generous, given that I could achieve the same results for next to nothing with a simple phone call to the police and some other...connections at my disposal. Believe me when I tell you that you don't want me to pick up that phone." Faith watched as her mother stepped back reflexively from the threat, her eyes hooded with fear. "Now then, let's get started. Oh, and it would speed things along if she were dressed and ready," he finished quietly, studiously avoiding looking at Faith. She couldn't understand why he still looked so sad. She was barely managing not to scream out her joy. Then her mother spoke, and her world fell apart.
"Don't just stand there, Faith, you worthless...wake up your sister and get her dressed."
"What? Why?" Faith squeaked. She was suddenly cold.
"Don't you talk back to me! I said wake her up!"
"No!" Faith screamed, falling to her knees and grabbing onto the man's legs. "No, it has to be me! I'm the one you want!" Her mother reached for her, hissing angrily, but the man lifted Faith into his arms, pulling her out of harm's way.
"Let her be!" he commanded to her mother. "You lay a hand on her and that phone call is as good as made."
"It has to be me...you have to take me...d-don't leave me here..." Faith sobbed brokenly. The man stiffened for a moment, then his arms tightened around her awkwardly.
"I'm so very sorry," the man whispered. "Very sorry. I cannot...I've got my orders, you see, and the seers were quite definite. Your sister is the one. She was chosen."
"B-but...I could be ch-chosen. I could be...I'd be good, I'd be the best...please!!"
The man sighed sorrowfully, and Faith felt his arms begin to loosen. He was letting her go, and she clutched him tighter, barely listening to his attempt to soothe her.
"I'll do what I can for you, I promise, but I can't take you with me. I'm so sorry..."
"Don't be sorry, mister," Faith's mother spat out maliciously. "That one's nothing but trouble. Trust me."
"Oh please, oh please, oh please..." Faith gasped, grabbing onto his jacket with all her strength. He was no longer holding her, and she couldn't hang on.
"Faith, you stop this right now!" her mother hissed.
"No..." Faith moaned as she slid back to the floor.
"Wass goin' on?"
Adult heads turned towards the sleepy six year old girl now in their midst, staring at the strange midnight tableau with wide-eyed wonder. Faith pulled her knees to her chest, her breath hitching with sobs.
"Kennedy, baby," her mother cooed with false affection. "Kennedy, this is Mister..."
"Patrick," the man supplied, studying the younger child intently as she watched him warily. Satisfied, he nodded to himself.
"Mr. Patrick," her mother echoed. When Kennedy simply continued staring, her mother added harshly, "Don't be stupid! Say hello."
"Hi," the younger girl said shyly.
"Hello, Kennedy," the Watcher said warmly, smiling and holding out his hand. Kennedy tentatively returned the smile, stepping towards him and reaching up with her own hand. Faith turned her head away, eyes shut tight, not bearing to see. Her mother's hands reached down to squeeze her shoulders in a gesture that might have seemed comforting...if you didn't see fingers crushing tender flesh. She pulled the child to her feet and muttered into her hair, alcoholic fumes and hot breath and pain stinging Faith's eyes into fresh tears. Her mother's harsh whisper seared into Faith's brain. Nothing after that registered clearly; not Mr. Patrick's regretful pat of her head, not her younger sister's arms trying to encircle her stiff body in a hug or her hurt expression when Faith turned away, not the later arrival of child services or the car ride to her first foster home. Through it all her mother's words echoed through her mind and her heart, flowing through her like some terrible knowledge.
"He don't want you. Nobody wants you. You ain't worth fifty grand. You ain't worth nothin', Faith. Don't you forget it. You ain't worth nothin."
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Feedback is always nice!
P.S. This may be part of a series of short fics about Kennedy and Faith supposing them to be half-sisters. Got lots of ideas, so we'll see. :)
