Chapter 12

For a while no one spoke, no sound was made at all. Everyone, even Anya, simply stared, almost gawking at Faith in the doorway, unable to think of how to react. Buffy could only think to herself helplessly, oh god, oh no…she heard that? What am I supposed to so…what should we do…

It was Joyce who acted first, finally coming out of her temporary near immobility of the past five or ten minutes to attempt to remedy the situation. Obviously hoping, however futile, that Faith hadn't heard anything, she smiled at her quickly, asking, "Did you need something, honey? I'll get it for you if you do… this is Anya, Xander's girlfriend. Anya," she continued, and the warning edge to her tone, the pointed stare she gave the other woman, conveyed that Anya had better keep her mouth shut. "This is Faith. Faith, why don't you come here-"

But Anya had never been good at taking hints to be silent. She continued to gawk at Faith, her eyes bulging slightly, mouth open.

"THIS is Faith?!" she sputtered, her voice colored heavily with her disbelief. "This is the dangerous psycho killer Faith who you were all so afraid of?! HER?! No one informed me that she was a child… and I fail to see the cleavage you were all mentioning either. Although it's sort of hard to tell with that jacket," she mused, eyeing Faith's chest with a scrutinizing frown. "Or are you a midget? Because then I would understand…midgets ARE scary, almost as much as bunnies… is she a midget psycho killer?" she asked Xander, some anxiety creeping into her tone.

"I'm not a psycho killer!" Faith protested, but her voice had more than a little fear tainting it, and the uncertainty and near panic rising in her eyes showed her own doubt. "I didn't do nothin'! I'm not bad, stop sayin' I'm bad…"

She was very tense physically, and it looked to Buffy as if she were a split second from bolting for the front door. There was a wildness to her eyes that gave her a cornered appearance, almost like an animal… if they didn't do something fast, Buffy knew, this would get even more out of hand…

"No, of course you're not-" Buffy started, wanting simultaneously to choke Anya and to head Faith off before she started…whatever…but Joyce spoke over her. She looked Faith directly in the eyes and spoke with a gentleness that made the child pause to look back at her, however warily.

"NO, you're not, honey, and we all know that. You're not bad, you're right, you didn't do anything wrong. Come here, Faith-"

"She's not?!" Anya exclaimed, and she threw her hands up in disgust, scowling deeply. "Well make your minds UP already, were you lying to me before, or are you just really stupid? Because she doesn't look the least bit dangerous to me, she-"

The combined homicidal glares from Buffy, Joyce, Giles, and Xander, and the pointed stare from Willow, made her come to a halt then, though her face screwed up in confusion. "WHAT?!"

Not saying anything in reply to her, Joyce narrowed her eyes at Anya meaningfully for a few more seconds, giving her a very cold look before turning back to Faith, her expression softening.

"That's because she's not dangerous, Anya- there's nothing wrong with her. You simply misunderstood," Joyce replied, but her eyes were on the little girl in the doorway. Addressing her now, she repeated softly, "Faith, will you please come here, sweetie…it's okay."

Thankfully Anya didn't answer back, though the irritated confusion on her face as she rapidly glanced from Joyce to Faith to Xander was more than enough indication of her thoughts. Faith did not move, did not accept Joyce's call. She continued to stand there, her body tensed markedly, her eyes dark and hooded, yet vulnerable, her hand still pressed close to her mouth as her lips thinned. Looking at her, Buffy's heart twisted…she could only imagine what the little girl must have been thinking, how she must be struggling…

"How come she wants to give me to the cops and lock me in the basement?" she said finally, and though her words were roughly spoken, her chin tilted up deliberately, there was a slight tremor to her words, definite anxiety in her posture and features. "I didn't do nothin'! You can't make me do nothin'…you can' do nothin' to me…"

"No, sweetie, we know that… no one will make you do anything," Joyce reassured her, and Buffy wanted to kill Anya. It was a wonder Faith hadn't panicked and run off by this point- which the Big Faith would undoubtedly have done, if she didn't decide to flip out and kill everyone instead. Judging from the way Xander was glaring at Anya too, their status as a happy, touchy-feely couple was considerably disrupted at the moment…for Anya was clearly none too pleased with him either.

"Remember what I told you, Faith?" Joyce continued quietly, looking the child in the eyes calmly. "No one will hurt you in this house. I won't allow it. You're safe here- and we'll make sure Anya understands-"

"Yes, that would be very much appreciated, if someone would explain exactly what is going on here," Anya snapped, rolling her eyes. "Or don't the rest of you know either? First she's evil, then she's not. First she's a Slay-"

"We will make sure Anya understands," Joyce said more loudly, and Xander, unable to stand this anymore, gave her a little shake, intended to distract her and shut her up.

As Anya yelped, turning indignant and hurt eyes toward him and opening her mouth furiously, Xander took her by the arm, beginning to pull her towards the direction of the stairs.

"Hey, Ahn, have you seen Buffy's new shower curtain? Let me show you…"

"Shower curtain?! I don't' want to see some stupid shower curtain!" Anya yelped, complete frustration and indignation shrill in her voice, but Xander kept his hand firm around her arm, dragging her after him.

"This is a really awesome shower curtain, though, Anya…and I really, really think you need to see it…"

He dragged her out of the room with him, with Anya still loudly protesting, and Buffy felt such warmth for him in that moment that she could have kissed him, had he asked. But once they were gone the room seemed too silent, too still… an awkward, heavy few moments that Joyce broke quickly, still addressing Faith. The child now looked, if possible, even more skittish, her eyes darting around rapidly, narrow chest moving noticeably with her uneven breaths even through the bulky jacket, and yet she did not move. As Buffy had feared, she appeared torn between paralysis and fleeing.

"Faith, I'm sorry for all of this…Anya is still confused, but Xander's going to explain everything to her. It's been a long strange day, hasn't it?" Joyce asked, giving her a little smile. "But I promise you, honey- no one in this house is going to do anything bad to you, or make you do anything bad."

"They wanna," Faith said hoarsely, and Buffy saw her swallow even from the table. "They think I'm bad…"

"I don't," Tara said quietly but surprisingly steadily. As everyone turned to look at her, startled, she flushed, but made herself continue, her eyes on Faith's. "I…I don't think you're b-bad, Faith…"

As Faith looked at Tara, here eyebrows slanted, her middle finger made its way into her mouth slowly from where her hand had remained close to her mouth. Normally Buffy would have been certain she was sneakily flipping them off, but right now she was pretty sure Faith wasn't…although she had no doubt the little girl knew exactly what a raised middle finger meant, or at the very least knew of its use. Watching her, hearing her mother and Tara interact with her, Buffy felt guilt, as though she too should be stepping in… but what in the world would she say? She would only make it worse. Faith didn't like her or trust her… and glancing at Giles and Willow, who had also been very quiet for the past several minutes, Buffy could see from their frowns and the odd look in their eyes that they too felt ill at ease, out of their depths.

"Faith," Joyce repeated when Faith didn't verbally respond to Tara's assurance, and her words were very gentle, non-threatening. "Will you come here to me, please?"

Faith hesitated, her finger still unconsciously in her mouth, eyeing Joyce, before darting her eyes hurriedly around to the others as well. Still very guarded, her movements jerky, she nonetheless came to stand beside Joyce in her chair slowly, stopping a slight distance apart from her. Joyce smiled at her, reaching out with enough slowness not to startle her and resting a hand lightly against the side of her face.

"Thank you, honey."

She looked up at the others, still touching Faith's cheek lightly, and said casually, "Mr. Giles, would you mind turning off Faith's movie and the TV for her? I think she left it running… Willow, Tara, maybe you should go check on Anya and Xander, make sure everything's okay in there. And Buffy, if you would just go get a chair from the basement for Anya, in case she decides to come back and sit down…"

Startled, but quickly realizing what it was Joyce was doing- which was obviously to get everyone to leave the room for a few minutes so she could be alone with Faith- everyone got to their feet quickly, attempting to keep their faces neutral and clueless. Buffy had to admit that her mother was pretty smooth… sending Giles to attempt to figure out technology, for example, would definitely buy some time.

And she had to admit that she was somewhat relieved, as were the others, judging from the quick gratitude coming to their eyes. They didn't know what to do either now… and to watch Joyce talk with Faith while they themselves sat in silence would feel like eavesdropping on a very private conversation.

Nevertheless, as they all filed out to their assigned tasks, with Joyce thanking them as they left, Buffy found herself dawdling, staying in the adjoined kitchen. She stayed back a ways, so they doorway was barely within her sight, and Joyce's and Faith's backs were mostly turned to her. However, with her slayer's sight and hearing, she was able to view their interaction fairly well without their knowledge.

Once everyone was gone, Joyce smile at Faith again, stroking her cheek lightly. Buffy heard her make a casual comment to Faith as Faith's eyes went to her hand, trying to watch it without moving away, and only succeeding in making herself go cross-eyed. Smiling again, Joyce said something Buffy couldn't quite make out entirely… and then, to Buffy's surprise almost as much as Faith's, Joyce put her hand at Faith's sides and quickly but caringly lifted her, settling her into her lap.

Buffy forgot entirely about getting Anya a chair as she blinked, waiting for Faith's reaction. She wasn't sure if the little girl would lash out, as she had when Buffy tried to restrain her, or else jump down and run away. Never in her life would Buffy ever attempt to pull Faith Lehane into her lap without written permission or some equivalent given- even if it was the seven-year-old version.

But Joyce Summers would, and Buffy watched with some amazement, wondering just how this would play itself out.

As it so happened, she shouldn't have anticipated such extreme drama on Faith's part. When Joyce first pulled her into her lap, the child had stiffened markedly, though she had not actually wiggled around or attempted to break away. But Joyce had put firm but gentle arms around her, holding her against her chest in a manner that even from a distance was obviously an embrace rather than a restraint.

For a moment Faith had turned her head, and Buffy had caught a glimpse of her face, the apprehensive bewilderment and strain in it, and she looked away hurriedly, praying Faith had not seen her. Had Faith never been held on someone's lap before… or was it simply that she didn't like to be so close to someone, where they had physical control?

"It's okay, sweetheart," Joyce told her softly, and she smoothed her hand over Faith's head and down the length of a pigtail, still holding her with her other arm. She leaned her mouth closer to Faith's ear as she went on. "Xander is trying to help Anya understand things, and I want you to understand too. You are not bad, there is nothing wrong with you. You're a very special little girl, Faith…"

"She said I killed people… she thinks I'm bad. If I'm not bad, then how come they all think I am?" Faith asked, and her voice was small, almost inaudible even to Buffy's ears. "Everyone says so…"

Her body was still tense against Joyce's, not yet adjusting to relax against her, but she allowed her to hold her without trying to get away. As Buffy continued to watch, swallowing involuntarily, Joyce rubbed Faith's knee through her dress in a soothing manner, still speaking softly near the girl's ear.

"I don't think that, and neither does Tara or Xander or Giles, sweetie. Buffy and Willow and Anya, they were confused… they thought you were someone else, honey, and that's why they thought you were bad. But they'll understand now, and they'll know it's okay, that you're exactly who you say you are."

"But I look like me… don't I look like me?" Faith frowned, even as it seemed to Buffy that she was relaxing against Joyce just the tiniest bit. "How could they think I'm someone else…I thought you know me. Don't they know what I look like?"

"Yes, they do, honey," Joyce answered, continuing to slowly run her hand over Faith's head and hair. "We don't understand a lot of what's happening right now- like why you don't remember some things, and why sometimes people think you're someone else. But Mr. Giles and Buffy and Willow and the others, they're very smart, Faith, they figure out things like this all the time. It's going to be okay… you'll see, Faith, everything will be okay."

Neither spoke for a little while, and Buffy was almost holding her breath, aware of nothing else around her but her mother and the child in her lap… she watched as Faith exhaled, gradually relaxing into Joyce, and felt an odd combination of pity, shame, and jealousy at the scene. When Faith spoke up again, all traces of toughness were gone from her voice, leaving it young, small, and very unsure.

"Joyce…you gonna send me back?"

"Back where, honey?" Joyce questioned, and she continued to run her fingers over Faith's head, seemingly to make sure the girl remained as relaxed with her and her touch as possible.

"Back home," Faith replied after a long pause, and her voice was still very low, tense. "Back with my mama…"

Joyce paused, looking down at her carefully, as if not sure how to proceed. "We're taking care of you for your mama right now, remember, Faith? Remember me telling you that?"

"Uh-huh," Faith said, nodding slightly. "But are you gonna?"

Her eyes moved to lock briefly on Joyce's, and though Buffy could not see most of their faces from her position, she wasn't so sure that it wasn't a blessing not to be able to see Faith's eyes then.

"Is that what you want, Faith?" Joyce asked her, and her voice was casual, but Buffy had no doubt that her eyes would be reflecting some of her true thoughts inadvertently. "Do you want to go back home, to be with your mother?"

Faith shook her head very faintly, and just before she spoke, Buffy could tell she was tensing again, as if in dread of Joyce's response to her next words.

"No…I wanna stay here," she said, so softly that even with Buffy's advanced hearing, she had to strain to decipher it. "Can I stay here?"

Upon hearing the little girl's hesitant request, Buffy's heart began to pound, and her mouth went dry as her stomach tightened with her emotional discomfort. She stared into the dining room, a flow of feelings that entirely contradicted each other running through her.

Since her arrival, the child now huddled in her mother's arms had been accused, screamed at, called names, shaken, mistrusted, questioned, threatened punishment, and overall treated with suspicion and general dislike, from Buffy more than anyone. She had been given good reason to hate them all, to be terrified of them all…

And yet here she was, asking if she could stay with them…because it was that much better to her than her own home.

This hit Buffy harder than anything Faith had ever said previously, while in her presence… as she started to back up, throat choking, no longer wanting to watch them, she heard her mother's reply, more strained than usual.

"We'll have to see, sweetheart… but if it was all up to me, you would."