SLAYER, SLEW, SLAIN
By Niels van Eekelen
TelltaleProd@Hotmail.com
www.TelltaleProductions.tk
It was two nights later, I guess, that I was patrolling. That 'test' the Watchers had talked about was still bothering me. I couldn't exactly ask Maria what it was all about, because I wasn't even supposed to know about it. Anyway, there wasn't really anything I could do about it, so I tried not to worry about it too much. It just gave me one more reason to be annoyed with the Watchers from Afar, aka. the Council.
Trick had kept quiet since our little skirmish in the mall, but two afternoons of dreadfully boring research only emphasized that something major was going to happen, probably no later than the end of that same week. Our working theory was that Trick served a master vampire and that they kept a pet demon, which was responsible for most of the mess in the mall. Lacking any more specific information, we had to wait for them to make the first move. It stunk. Majorly.
Having all this on my mind, I was only more surprised when I saw what I saw that night. "Mom?" I was walking through one of those shop-filled boulevards in the friday night crowd--always a favourite time for the undead to walk among the living and go unnoticed. And I could have sworn that I saw my mother pass through the crowd just a few dozen feet away. My mother, who hadn't left our home since I was just a little girl.
For a moment, I stopped dead in my tracks, and someone bumped into my back, cursing at me, but I didn't care. Then I started off again, quicker than before, working my way through the dense crowd. I pushed people aside left and right to get to the woman I'd seen a moment before. I called again, "Mom!" but there was no reason she should have responded to that, even had she heard it. As far as mom was concerned, I was out of her life. I surprised myself by being so enthusiastic about seeing her. Dad was the bad guy in my book--to put it simply but accurately, he's the one that screwed up my life beyond recognition--but I felt mom was just about as bad because she had let it all happen, and instead of being there for me had rather watched reruns of 'The Bold and the Beautiful'. And yet, I also remembered my mother from before she had become so apathetic. It hadn't lasted long, but for the first few years of my life, we had lived and laughed almost as a happy, normal family should. I could not help hoping that if my mother was up and about again, the woman she used to be might be back. If it was her. As I hurried through the crowd, I started wondering if I had really seen my mother, or if it had just been wishful thinking. It was the whole love/hate shtick. I despise the previous generation of my family, but somewhere deep down--very deep, let's be clear about that--I longed to have a normal life. Normal is relative too, of course, but you know what I mean.
When I finally caught up with the woman, all my doubt vanished like a vamp in the sun. Even from just looking at her back, I knew that I was seeing my mother. Right at that moment, almost as if it was planned that way, I sensed a vampire nearby--the second already that night--but for once in my life, I couldn't care if it sucked someone dry. Well, at least I'd save the guilt-trip over letting it escape for a later date. Quickly, before I could second-guess myself, I grabbed her shoulder. All of a sudden, I felt very aware of the fact that I had to keep my Slayer strength in check, or I might hurt her "Mom?" I asked, knowing the answer.
She turned around, and, quite obviously, was stunned. I know that she recognised me immediately--as she turned around, she looked irritated, like anyone who was walking down the street when someone else grabbed their shoulder would be, but the instant she saw me, she went wide-eyed and slack-jawed. For the briefest of moments, she seemed afraid--perhaps she finally felt guilt over what she had done. Truth be told, I didn't respond much better. First I tried to tell her how glad I was to see her here; then I tried to retreat to a more comfortable attitude of anger, but in neither case I got a word out past my lips. We stood there, nailed to the ground, just looking at each other, until finally someone bumped into us in the crowded street. I was suddenly nervous, unsure if I should have run after her. She had abandoned me, and then I had abandoned her, too. A happy reunion was suddenly seeming less and less likely.
"Faith?" my mother spoke finally, timidly. And then she smiled. It was a happy smile. It was one of the best things I had ever seen.
The rest of that day blurred together. I remember what I did--we did--of course, but it's the feeling the I remember most clearly. Half an hour later we were sitting at a table outside a café, and we didn't leave until near morning, when they were closing the place up. I was starved as always, and I came at least one mouth short, because I was trying to tell my mother everything that had happened to me in the past few months--or a severely edited version of all that, at least; I wasn't quite ready to lose my mother again because she thought I belonged in an institution--and trying to cram as much food as possible into my mouth at the same time. Mom, on the other hand, was barely eating anything--which was good, because that meant she could talk.
"I see you haven't lost your appetite," mom commented amusedly.
"Mm-hm," I responded past half a sandwich.
Mom sighed. "I suppose you must be curious how come I am out here, and not sitting in front of the TV." She smiled bitterly. "I know I've never been a very good mother. I should have protected you from your father, stepped between you two when things got out of hand. But I couldn't. Jackson is a terrible man, Faith, I know that, but I still love him. You have no idea how that was for me. You may have suffered under what he did to you, but so did I." Mom sighed, and her eyes stared vacantly into space, reminiscing about a time that was much better than what I remembered "He used to be so much different, you know," she continued after a moment. "When I first fell in love with him, your father was a good man, and I don't think I have ever seen anyone be as happy as he was the day you were born. Then ... times just got bad. Your father lost his job, his friends abandoned him, and we barely had enough money to get by. It changed everything for Jackson. He blamed it on me. On you. On anyone who came near him. Soon enough, Faith, we were the only ones who would. I'm so sorry for the things your father did to take out his anger and frustration on us. But even with all that, I still loved him--love him."
Mom wasn't saying much that I hadn't realised when I still lived back home, but I had only ever realised it as an angry girl. Well, I was still pretty angry, and little more than a girl, but for the first time--perhaps because now I had the chance to take a step back and look at the whole fucking situation more objectively--I understood my mother. It was a bit scary, actually. But in a good way.
It felt good to be with my mother again, but it also was confusing. Sitting there, I just didn't feel like the Slayer. For me, my life--or lives--was divided in two very separate halves very cleanly. There was my old life with my parents, the one I hated and had done everything I could to leave behind me. And then there was my life as the Slayer, the one where I faced death every night, but felt comfortable doing so, because I was confident in my abilities. I didn't think it was possible to have both--to the degree that some part of me was afraid I would somehow be un-Chosen now, and the greatest adventure of my life was about to come to an end.
"When you were taken away from us," mom went on, shaking her head at the memory, "everything just seemed different. The two of us hadn't actually talked or hung out together or anything at all for long before you left, but I suddenly felt lonely, as if I had lost my only ally with whom I could stand against your father. Even Jackson was different after you left. He still needed to take out his frustrations, and you weren't there anymore to take the heat, so he looked for other people." She sighed again, sadly. "Before you left, you had always been there when Jackson needed an outlet, and you would always give him some excuse--I'm not trying to blame you for anything!" mom hastened to assure me. I smiled and nodded my head to indicate that I understood. I was a troublemaker. Always had been, and certain as hell that I'd always stay one. "Without you around, Jackson started causing trouble in the bars he frequents. He drank far too much. He picked fights. It wasn't long before he was arrested."
"Wait, time out, mom," I interrupted. It felt strange to call her that. More than once--a lot more, if you have to know-- since moving out, I had thought about the fact that Maria was much more of a mother to me than this woman that was sitting across from me now had ever been, genetics or no. "Not that I would have wanted him to," I wondered, "but why didn't dad just pick you? You were there right in front of him." I licked the last crumbs off my plate. Mom offered me her ham sandwich, on which she'd only nibbled, and I took it gratefully. I was so excited, and worried at the same time, that I could've eaten a horse.
Mom sighed, and she looked really sad, as if she'd even have welcomed that kind of attention from my father. "Just look at me," she said. "I've become old and fat." She wasn't honestly that old, but fat was harder to deny--even if it seemed to me that she'd lost some weight since I'd last seen her. "Jackson hasn't looked at me since I became like this. He barely seems to want to admit that I exist. That's why he came after you in the first place, when you were still around. Or I think so, at least. It's hard to know what goes on in Jackson's head sometimes."
I was tempted to say 'Not much,' but I restrained myself. "So, you said he was arrested?" I asked, curious. "Is there any prison in this story?" I think I actually sounded hopeful when I spoke those words.
"No," mom replied not noticing or ignoring my venom, "they just kept him overnight at the police station a few times. Once, he tried to rape a girl--he came close to prison then--but the girl's boyfriend punched him out, and the two left. Turns out the boy had a warrant out for his arrest--in three states, I've heard it said. So they could hardly stay around to press charges.
"But, enough of this. Look at me, I was supposed to tell you how come I'm getting outside the trailer and in the streets again, and here I am, boring you with things you don't want to know." I did, actually--want to know, that is--but I didn't dare interrupt again. "I'm not really certain what changed me, but I did. I began feeling bored, silly as it sounds, and restless. I missed you. A few weeks after you were taken away, Faith, I started going out again. Socialising, the word is, I guess. And I decided that I liked it."
We went on talking for hours, until the café closed. A few times I was on the brink of telling her about being a Slayer, but each time I changed the subject just in time. We stood outside then, for a while, not sure what to do. Neither of us was ready to take the other home with us. Heh. That must sound hilarious coming from a girl who'll drag a guy she's known for five minutes to her room with her. But this was different in each and every aspect. Ultimately, we decided to meet each other at the same place the following night. I suggested a late time for our meeting, so that I could at least finish a patrol first. Had to keep Maria happy. And Duke, as long as he was there. Maybe.
I sauntered back in the direction of the apartment in no particular rush. I had a lot to think about. The thing that I had to think about most was my father. If I was going to see mom again, eventually I would end up renewing my acquaintance with him, too. On the one side, I was ready to kick his ass. On the other side, I was kinda terrified. Maria had lectured me often enough that under no circumstance was I to start using my Slayer strength for things like revenge. Those lectures were usually right after I beat up some guy who'd pissed me off, but it was still enough to give me pause. Ah, who am I kidding? That wasn't really why I was afraid my father. Might have become stronger, and a better fighter, but I couldn't let go of the knowledge that I had resisted everytime he ever tried to use me in one way or another in the past, and it had never been enough. I had a lot to think about, but I didn't get anywhere before I reached the apartment.
In fact, I was so caught up in my thoughts that I didn't realise the lights were still on in the small appartment Maria and I shared. Because I always came in at all hours, I usually clambered up the fire escape and entered through the window. I intended to just sneak in quietly and go to sleep right away, so I wouldn't wake Maria. It was only when I held back the curtains to get through the window, and the very bright light shone right into my used-to-the-dark-of-night eyes, that I realised I wouldn't wake Maria, because she was still very much awake. "Oh, fuck," I cursed the light, raising my free hand to shield my eyes.
"And hello to you, too, Faith dear," I heard Maria say.
I blinked my eyes a few times, and saw my Watcher sitting on the couch, still fully dressed despite the late hour. She looked as if she wasn't certain whether to be angry or relieved. "Is something up?" I asked her. I was too tired and preoccupied to figure out why she wasn't in bed.
"Is something wrong? Is something wrong?" Maria replied angrily. "I've been worrying myself to death, and you ask if something is wrong? Do you have any idea what time it is?" I studied my feet, perhaps for the first time honestly embarrassed about making Maria worry. "Were you fighting demons?" she continued. She frowned. "Or were you with a boy again? I thought we'd agreed that you would at least give me a ring when you finish your patrol."
I kept silent, not sure what to say. I didn't know if I really wanted Maria to know about mom, not yet. Usually, I could talk to my Watcher about anything, but this was different. It was too personal, and there was also the almost double role Maria and my mother played in my life.
Maria sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. She was making that weird clucking noise with her tongue. "I'm sorry, Faith. I know you don't need me to mother you. I was merely ... concerned, is all."
"'s OK," I assured her, distinctly uncomfortable with Maria's phrasing. I looked up from my feet at her. "I'm sorry, too, I guess."
Maria smiled as she looked at me again. "You guess," she repeated, amused. "Well, I guess we'd both better get some sleep, while there is still any night left. Don't think I'll let you get out of training tomorrow morning."
I agreed, but my mind was still too occupied for me to expect any real rest.
Story written by Niels van Eekelen. © Copyright 2004 Telltale Productions.
In a perfect world, I would own the series 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' and 'Angel'. Alas, it is not, and I bow my head to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Ah, well. It's probably for the best, me not having a contract to put the show on the air and all.
A special thanks to Paul Leone and Teresa Owens, from whose story 'The Deliverer' I nicked the name of Faith's Watcher, though not the character.