Author's Note:
This is a Faith chapter, mostly. It also has the end of the perfect evening. Otherwise, you'd get stuck with yet another short chapter when I really wanted it to be longer.
Warning - The following chapter, except for the fluffy parts, is quite dark. It does contain violent language and some violence. Okay? Okay!
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Chapter 34
A Long, Long Time Ago
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"I told you already, I don't know."
It had been a phrase Faith had been repeating many times over the past week. Wave after wave of Ministry officials had been questioning her intentions for the past four days.
Rolling her eyes, she stared out the enchanted windows to the rain and wind lashing outside. A fork of lightning lit up the grim darkness in the distance. "Cheers," she said moodily. One of the Aurors had explained to her that the people that maintained the weather control systems outside the enchanted windows were on some sort of strike. Hurricanes had been coming and going since Faith had arrived.
She had yet to see the Minister of Magic, whom many had assured her would be talking to her shortly.
Drawing her knees up to her chest and clasping her arms around them, she dropped her chin onto her knees and stared at the gloomy weather, feeling as though it couldn't get any worse.
Buffy seemed to be some priceless possession many treated like glass that was made to be broken, Faith thought. A smirk danced across her pale features as she realized how wrong they were. Buffy may be hiding her true spirit, but they couldn't get the Slayer out of the girl that easily.
Humming tunelessly under her breath, Faith got the instinctive impression she was being watched. She didn't like it. She hated being locked in this room the size of a closet, especially when it had a nearly three hundred and sixty degree view of the raging storm outside. She felt like she was sitting in a gazebo as the storm raged around her. Even though it wasn't real, it certainly felt real as the couch she was sitting on shook with every pounding rumble of thunder.
"Hello," she called out in a bored voice. "Did you forget about me? I'm stuck in this fricking closet and I absolutely despise it!"
The door in front of her opened and a half dozen Aurors spilled in, all with their wands out, all pointing at her.
"Fine, do something bad, mutter your little hexes," she said, grinning sarcastically at them. Her body was itching for a fight and if they attempted to put a spell on her, she would kick their asses from here to eternity for all she cared.
"Calm yourself, Miss," a cool voice said as another figure stepped inside the room.
She blinked upwards, realizing this was the Minister of Magic so many had told her about.
"You want to punish the bad little Slayer for daring to kidnap your precious princess? I can deal with that. Trust me, I've been through worse." Her eyes were mocking, but his gaze was firm. He wasn't about to back down.
"I've dealt with those like you, too, Faith. But see, unlike you, we have information about your own life that you might be keen to know."
"Oh, really?" she asked, arching an eyebrow. "And what exactly do you know about me that I don't? Is it the fact I'm a Black?"
"You honestly have no idea that a very powerful memory charm was imposed on you when you were younger, do you?" the Minister of Magic asked, a gleeful note in his voice. "Well, well... you had a previous life... you led a cursed life. And yet you have no memory of it. Here you are, sitting before us, a Slayer even. We really never saw this coming after years and years of planning..."
"What in the hell are you talking about?" Faith asked in a deadly whisper.
"Are you sure you want to know?" he asked pompously, turning to another figure that had just walked into the room. Faith groaned. It was Percy Weasley, the known protector of B's. His eyes were glittering strangely as he held what looked like a goblet from some old church in his hand.
"Tell me," Faith demanded.
"Very well," the Minister said, taking the goblet. "Drink this. You'll be put to sleep, and the charm will be broken. Everything you ever knew about the past life of your family and even things you never suspected to be true will be revealed in your dreams."
"Just like that, huh?" Faith asked, eyeing him suspiciously as she took the goblet he was handing to her. "It's really that simple? A dream is a wish my heart makes, or some such shit? I close my eyes and my past comes back?"
"Something to that ideal, yes," the Minister replied. He turned to the armed Aurors. "Could you please escort our guest to a more comfortable bed for resting? I daresay that leaving her in our sky dome will make her even more restless."
"Good idea," she muttered as she was seized by one of the Aurors and lifted rudely from her seat. "Hey, moron, watch the arm!" she snapped, wrenching her limb from his iron-tight grip. "I use these to save the world."
"No longer," said a snickering voice from behind her.
"Excuse me, Peter?" she asked, turning her head to the left to see Percy Weasley smirking at her.
"I'm just saying that to be in this world, it requires a sacrifice," Percy replied innocently, although his warmed attitude didn't reach his eyes. He truly enjoyed torturing the girl who had threatened his beloved friend.
"When in the hell are you going to get over yourself and move on?" she asked, stopping. The Aurors behind her prodded her forward and she sighed, forced to walk. Being surrounded by six wands and idiots that knew how to use them brought little comfort. And it gave her little choice but to follow them to wherever they were leading her.
Percy was still following her, looking as though they were leading his worst enemy off to the darkest prison. Rolling her eyes, she was led into a dark room with a small bed in the center. A single candle was sitting on the one table in the room. Faith watched as the Aurors disarmed themselves. Percy handed her back the goblet. "Drink."
Faith sighed and took the goblet, sitting on the edge of the bed. With all eyes on her, she felt very uncomfortable, but not wanting to piss them off any further, she drank every droplet inside the cup.
Instantly, she felt queasy as though her insides were trying to wring themselves out. Before she could comment on that, she felt herself falling backwards. With a cry of alarm, her eyelids fell shut and everything turned into darkness.
x.0.x.0.x
Fifteen-year-old Faith was walking through a dark park late one night in May. She knew she really wasn't wanted anywhere. All she really had was a guardian, and at the foster home, they didn't give a damn if she showed up at all. Let her go out and get herself killed, they figured. She was just a darkling, they would say. She needed an attitude adjustment. She needed to get the stuffing beat out of her. She needed to respect her elders and be the perfect little girl.
Faith scowled at the ground as she kicked an empty pop can aside.
They really didn't understand her.
It had been nearly four years since her mother died. It really hadn't changed her life, since her mother was mostly a thorn in her side anyway, always at home drunk or stoned. No, Faith had decided. She really didn't need anyone.
She heard a footfall behind her and paused. She waited for another one to fall, but it was followed by others; she was being followed.
Whirling around on her heel, she saw three of her older foster brothers behind her, their arms crossed and matching sneers set upon their faces.
"What do you want?" she demanded angrily.
"Julie said you weren't in school again today," one of them, a particularly burly one by the name of Mike, said, circling around her. "You're gonna get your ass expelled, Faith."
"Like I care," she said boldly, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "Why should I? Because you're going to beat me up if I don't?"
"Dave's gonna make you go," another one said maliciously. "He said he'd beat you if you didn't."
"Dave can go drown himself for all I care," Faith said, lifting her bare arms and placing her hands on her hips. "Did you three come down here just to tell me that?"
"We heard you attacked Julie again," Mike replied coldly, stopping directly in front of her.
"So I did," Faith said coldly. "What are you gonna do about it?"
His eyes looked her up and down. Feeling goose bumps tickle up her spine, she crossed her arms again. But his eyes, no matter how dirty and unbrotherly, were staring at a mark above the elbow on her arm.
Before Faith realized what he was doing, he grabbed her arm and twisted it behind her painfully. "What is this?"
"A fricking sweater," Faith moaned as he held her arm even tighter.
"So this is what you've been hiding from Julie and Dave... they're going to love this," Mike said, releasing her by shoving her brutally on the ground. Faith hit the ground with a pained cry and rolled over twice before glancing up at her older foster brother, hatred clearly flashing in her obsidian eyes. Without realizing what she was doing, she flipped to her feet.
Mike and her two other brothers were glaring at her, but there was a different look in their eyes now. It was suspicion. "You doin' drugs, Faith, like that no-good slut of a Mother of yours?"
"Go to hell, Steven," she snapped, glaring at the smallest one of the group. While his height was shorter than the others, he made up for it in stunning brutality. Word in school had been that he actually was in one of the few gangs that frequented the streets of Boston. "And don't you dare insult my mother!"
She was screaming now, and the three exchanged a bemused smirk.
"You need to know when to fall in line, Faithie. You have a temper, so what? You're too damn feeble to do anything about it?"
Faith drew herself up to her full height and walked to stand toe-to-toe with Steven, her eyes full of disgust and darkness as she stared him down. "Want to make a bet on that?"
Mike struck first, lifting his fist and throwing it casually towards her face. Faith ducked with reflexes she didn't know she had and rolled out of the way, springing quickly to her feet again.
"Whoa," she whispered, surprised by the speed she had just exerted. But in her own silence, a fist collided with the side of her face and she cried out as she fell again for the ground, sprawling on the dirt and grass.
"Ugh," she moaned as she felt a foot kick her roughly in the ribs. When the second foot struck out, she was ready. Grabbing the muddy tennis shoe, she yanked it sharply as Mike fell hard to the ground. Flipping back to her feet, she drew her fists to her chest. A deep cut above her eye was bleeding; the blood was slowing her vision. Mike was shouting now, but she couldn't hear it. Her senses were on overdrive.
Something else was in the woods.
"Stay away from me," she said in a low, angry hiss. As Steven leapt for her again, she twisted out of the way. As Linden, her third foster brother, jumped up to defend the others, she pushed her flat palm upwards, smashing against his nose. She heard the sickening crack as it broke and he fell backwards, cursing her, God and everyone else.
Spinning back, she drew up her fists again, a triumphant smile on her face. This was the first time she hadn't been knocked unconscious by these three bullies. Mike and Steven were facing her again, but Linden was on the ground, rolled in a ball, holding his bloodied, broken nose.
"Come near me again, and I'll do double unto you," she spat, wiping the blood from her mouth.
They obviously couldn't listen to her as they both attacked at the same time. She swung underneath one and jumped up, her elbow making contact with the middle of Steven's back. He grunted as he fell to his knees and she turned to face Mike, a hungry, dark look in her eyes.
Mike, the same moron who for three years now had beaten her into unconsciousness, looked afraid of her.
"You slut," Steven spat out below her, spitting out a stream of blood and saliva.
"You asshole," she replied, lowering her fists. "Now you know you can't mess with me."
"Let's get out of here," Linden said in a thick voice as he joined Mike, glaring spitefully at his younger foster sister. "When Dave's done with her, she'll be in the hospital, for sure."
"Tell Dave if he ever touches me again, I'll kill him," she said darkly as the three boys ran off into the night.
What in the hell had just happened? Where on Earth had she gotten the skills to spar like that? It seemed so natural, yet Faith had never been that strong before! She had just been Faith. Just Faith!
"Faith?" a soft voice called from behind her.
"Mike, I'm not in the mood to... oh..." She had turned around to see a man in a long coat carrying a briefcase approaching her. "Who the hell are you?"
"My name is Gregory Pratt. Faith, you have been called."
"Called? Oh, crap! I told those idiots down at the Teen Center my last black eye was a mistake. I didn't mean for it to... oh..." she said, realizing the dark look spreading across his face. "That's not what you wanted to tell me, is it?"
"No," he replied, reaching into his coat and shaking his head. "I wanted to tell you there is a vampire behind you."
Faith gasped and ducked just in time. A heavy arm swung out and the figure towering above her became unbalanced. Kicking out, she knocked the growling vampire off its feet and flipped back to her feet. "What the hell is this? Punishment?"
"No," he replied, pulling out a very sharp wooden stick and holding it out to her. "It is your destiny."
"WHAT?" she thundered as something hard grabbed her by the shoulders and tossed her to the ground for the third time that evening. Groaning, she saw that the man had thrown the stick at her. Picking it up, she saw the snarling figure diving towards her and rolled aside. It fell to the ground and screamed.
"What do I do with this?" she asked the man.
"Through the heart," he said calmly.
Faith turned to lift the stake just as two hands came out of nowhere, fastening themselves around her throat. For a moment, there was a battle of wills. Finally, Faith got the upper hand and managed to impale the wooden stick through the chest of the vampire.
It exploded. Faith gasped and leapt to her feet as a large pile of fine grey dust remained.
"Oh. My. God..." she said slowly, turning to the man, who was giving her a calm smile. "What is this? Some sick game? Did Dave and Julie put you up to this? Tell me! TELL ME!"
"I will attempt to tell you what you want to know if you were to calm down."
"Calm down? CALM DOWN? Damn you! Who the hell do you think you are, showing up in the dead of night with a stick and a vampire?"
"I'm a Watcher," he said serenely. "And you, my dear, are a Vampire Slayer."
There was a moment where Faith swayed on the spot.
"I'm a what?"
"A Vampire Slayer," he replied, setting down his briefcase and offering her his hand. "You're one girl in all the world that alone stands against vampires, demons and other forces of darkness."
"Wait... I'm a what?" she asked, her voice even more doubtful. There was a dark, ugly look in her eyes now.
"I am certain by now that you have new skills you were unaware that you had before," he replied, sitting down on a rock and reaching calmly for his briefcase.
"You mean the punching and the kicking?" Faith asked him coolly, still not believing what she was hearing. "So, you're telling me that I'm like wicked powerful now. And I'm the only one."
"Not exactly," he said, frowning at her for the first time. "Apparently, you're the second half of the chosen two."
Faith smiled in the darkness. "So, who is this other half?"
"Her name is Buffy Summers. She's in California."
"Cal state, huh?" Faith asked softly. "That sounds... welcoming, actually. If you haven't noticed, my life is going nowhere here. I live with thirteen other kids in an old resort house in tawny Boston. I get beaten up every week because my foster Dad hates my guts. I'm this close to being expelled from school and suddenly you show up and tell me I have these wicked powers. Do you not expect me to take full advantage of them? What are you here for? Are you going to train me? I want to go to California! It has to be better than this hellhole, it just has to be!"
Tonight, Faith's life changed forever. She became a Slayer, the second chosen of two women in all the world with the strength to destroy the world's badness. Together with Gregory Pratt, her first Watcher, she started training. When she left Boston, she was handed off to her second Watcher.
She was going to go to Sunnydale, California. Somehow, she felt as though her destiny was calling her there. It was calling her home...
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"Mommy? Mommy?! Where are you? Mommy!"
Faith was running throughout the tiny apartment complex, trying to search for her mother. Mrs. Whittle from 4E upstairs had called and said that she had seen Deb Landing passed out in front of the complex. Apparently, her date had dumped her there and she had collapsed, too drunk to even walk upstairs to where her seven-year-old daughter was waiting for her.
She found the red-haired woman lying on the grass in front of the spray painted building. "Mommy?" Faith asked, a hint of fear in her voice. "Are you okay, Mommy? Are you dead?"
The woman groaned loudly and lifted a perfectly manicured hand, probing the aching muscles over her eyes. "Oh, shit shit shit," Deb moaned, her eyes fluttering open. They were very red and bloodshot and dark purple half moons bruised her under eyes. "Faith?"
"Mommy," Faith said in a breathless voice, making to hug the woman. Only, Deb shoved her daughter roughly away.
"Go away, Faith... get ready for school. "Just... just go. Get away from me."
"Mommy?" Faith asked, her voice was terrified now. Deb looked up just as her daughter ran away from her, her soft cries echoing in the hallway before the door closed behind her, shutting them out.
Deb turned a deep shade of magenta and got to her feet, staring down at her short black halter dress. Smoothing the bits of twig and grass from her shiny red hair, she walked with as much composure as she could muster into the apartment.
First grade was hell for Faith, who was endlessly teased for her unstylish clothing and the fact she was a slow reader, mainly because her mother didn't give a damn about her. Her hair was continuously pulled and that day, a large vat of coleslaw was dumped over her head by some taunting fifth graders who took it upon themselves to humiliate the pretty first grader as much as humanly possible.
Faith got home that day, still pulling sticky bits of cabbage from her hair. Her mother was on the phone, sitting at the window seat. She had changed into her khaki-colored robe. Her red hair had been pulled back from her face and she was smoking a joint. The cordless phone was perched onto her shoulder.
Deb had just gotten a call from Faith's school, the principal was astonished at how badly her daughter was being treated, yet Deb didn't seem to care.
"She's a tough girl," Deb said, coughing slightly as she drew a deep breath over her small rolled-up joint. "She'll get through. She's a Landing, after all. She's a tough bitch just like her old lady." Her lips curled into a sneer as the principal said something else over the line. "Excuse me? I'm the one being a bad mother and a poor role model for my daughter? Well, screw you!" A pause. "Yeah, I said screw you. I hope you get your pretty blonde head knocked down a garbage chute, you filthy whore!" She lowered her shoulder, the telephone sliding down her arm. She clicked the off button and sighed, resting her head against the wall. The paint was starting to chip, since Deb had first started painting the living room when they'd moved in. She hadn't had a chance to finish it yet.
"Faith, honey, you're home," Deb said, dropping the phone out the window casually and sticking her joint in an empty soda can. "And... what in the hell happened to you?"
Faith was crying, on her knees. She was still covered in cabbage and mayonnaise. She was giving off the heavy smell of coleslaw and Deb felt her heart jump into her throat at the hell her daughter was going through.
An hour later, Faith was being led into her bedroom. It was the one room in the apartment they had finished. It was a soft shade of lavender, and there was lace everywhere, as long as posters of New Kids on the Block and the Indigo Girls.
Her mother had just spent twenty minutes scrubbing bits of cabbage and carrot from her daughter's hair. She had then gone and done a load of laundry while Faith choked down a cucumber sandwich and a glass of stale coke. It was only six o'clock when she collapsed into bed, staring sadly at the large poster above her bed.
How she wished things could be different. She wished a great many things. She wanted her Daddy back, because whenever she asked about him, Deb would just say he was a lowlife son-of-a-female-dog that got her pregnant and then ditched her.
A tear trickled down her cheek. "I deserve better than this," the little girl said sadly, her dark eyes filling with tears of anguish, pain and horror. Everyone thought that 3A was a terrible place to be, because Deb Landing had an endless stream of men and drugs parading into the small apartment twenty four hours a day.
That night was no different. Faith's eyes fluttered open as she heard loud laughter. Heavy metal music was making her head throb. Getting to her feet, she shuffled over to the door and pulled it open.
She was greeted by a wave of smelly smoke. Choking, she slammed the door shut again, trying to take a few deep breaths before taking a final one and, holding it, braved the walk into the living room.
There were only about ten people inside it, but most of them weren't wearing very many clothes. Her mother only had on a pair of holey stockings and a tiny lacy camisole top. Everything else on her was exposed. She was straddling a man in front of her, a martini in one hand and another cigarette in the other.
Faith backed out, bitter tears falling down her cheeks.
What had she done to deserve this life? Why was God punishing her? Why was Faith taunted and teased and treated like shit at school?
And why did her mother not care about her?
Why couldn't Faith have a normal life like those girls at school, with their large bedrooms and their puppies and everything?
Faith was still crying as she threw herself across her bed, feeling as though she would never be happy again.
x.0.x.0.x
Buffy and Oliver were walking to Gryffindor Tower, their arms wrapped around each other's waists. Their heads were bent together; they were both smiling and whispering.
Since it was after midnight, the portrait was sleeping. Buffy managed to wake her up, but realized the password had been changed that night. Realizing it was no use to get into the Common Room, Oliver pulled her aside.
"You can always come to my room," he said with concern. The Fat Lady's eyes widened behind them. "I know it's only guest quarters, but..."
"Oliver, you know I can't," she said quickly, lifting her fingers and pressing them to his lips. "I'll just... I'll just stay here tonight. I'm not about to go and bother Professor McGonagall. And I don't want to wake Harry." She slid down the wall until she was sitting against it. "I'll just stay here. Tomorrow's Sunday, anyway."
She was suddenly feeling sleepy.
Oliver sat down next to her. "You know I won't leave you, right?"
"You can go and sleep in your own comfortable bed, Oliver," she said, yawning loudly. "I'm not about to hold you back from that."
"You'll have to," he said cheerfully, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer. "I'm not going anywhere."
Her heart fluttered at the thought as she dropped her head onto his shoulder. His lips were pressing gentle kissed on top of her head and she closed her eyes with contentment.
"Do you know how perfect I feel right here, right now?" she asked him sleepily.
"Shhhh shhshsh," he said softly into her ear. "Close your eyes, Buffy. Tomorrow's going to be a long day for you."
Indeed, it was. She had a lot of homework to do, not to mention a serious conversation to have with her brother...
Her eyelids were becoming so heavy...
Inside the Common Room, two people were still awake, staring at the remains of the fire. Harry and Hermione were sitting together on the threadbare rug. They hadn't said anything in over an hour, but Harry knew that he probably should. Hermione was looking very sleepy and he felt as though he could close his eyes and hibernate until Christmas. The excitement over their first victory seemed to wane as she turned to him with tired eyes and gave him a tense smile.
"I should go to bed," Hermione said softly, making to move, but she didn't. "I don't want to."
Harry's eyes warmed as they stared at the final flames and the red-hot logs. "Go to bed," he said, glancing at her again. "I'm sure you have a lot of work to do tomorrow."
"So do you," she said with a faint smile. "It's just that... I feel so comfortable here."
Harry reached for her hand and held it silently.
In the hallway, Buffy had fallen asleep.
She was walking through a graveyard. There was a group of people standing around a hole opened into the ground.
A girl no older than ten was standing in front of the hole, her dark eyes on the wooden casket as it was lowered into the ground.
"We are here today to grieve the loss of one of our own," said a Minister, his eyes sad as he began reading from a small black book.
Faith didn't have any tears left to cry. All she wanted to do was scream. Her mother had died... from an overdose, of all things. She had been doing such horrible things to her body for so long, something terrible was bound to happen.
But where would Faith go now?
"Faith? Faith Landing, do you have any final words for your Mother?"
Faith took a brave step forward, her hand brushing her old black dress, as though trying to rid the stench of the woman who had worked so hard to destroy her own life that she had taken down her own daughter's, as well.
"I hate you for leaving me," Faith said quietly. "I hate you for loving me. I always thought I deserved more, until now. I just got everything I asked for and you left me alone..." She was crying now, which she also hated, because her words turned to a painful shriek. "I hate you, you stupid bitch! You made my life a living hell! You destroyed your life and you brought mine down! I'll never forgive you, never!"
"Like what you see?"
Buffy turned to see an older version of Faith standing next to her, staring at the scene unfolding before them.
"You were in so much pain," Buffy said softly, sympathetically.
"I got over it," Faith replied coldly. "My life was never a bucket of roses. It was more like a bucket of dead fish. My mom shot too much heroin one night and it mixed with her anti-depressants. It happens."
They watched as the younger Faith jumped down on her mothers casket and began smacking at it with her bare hands, despite the tiny snowflakes swirling around them. The stunned attendees watched her for a moment in astonished silence before the Minister reached down and lifted the small girl from the dirty hole.
"No! Damn it, let me go!" Faith screamed. "I want to make her pay for what she brought down onto me! I hate her! I HATE HER!"
Faith closed her eyes and shook her head sadly. "I hated my Mother so much, but now I understand why she didn't care. I wasn't a part of that life. I'm not a part of this world. I belong in yours. I have to believe I do or else everything I've gone through, everything I've done... it's real. There's too much pain... and torture... I longed for a better life."
Buffy reached over and took Faith's arm. "You might not like what you find," she said softly. "Just remember that when you wake up, there's a better world out there waiting for you."
"I never had much," Faith said as both women turned around and walked out of the graveyard. "I had no friends. No family. No hope. There was nothing there, nothing left of me, except hate. I forced myself to smile but I wanted everything to end. I was so suicidal when I was a younger because I didn't know how to react to the world around me. If you stay long enough, you'll see that my life is nothing like yours was. Being with your Mom brought my life back. It gave me my wish. I wished that I could be more like you and have a real family and real friends... and now I might have both." Faith was crying now, something so completely unexpected it took Buffy's breath away. "You tell me that I'm a Black, and I believe you."
They were walking a long, dark road now. There was a bolt of lightning that flashed ahead.
"There's more to come," Faith said in an ominous voice. "Are you sure you're ready?"
"I've spent a year trying to understand you, Faith," Buffy said, reaching over and taking Faith's trembling hand. "Wherever you are, I'm going to follow you. You shouldn't face this alone..."
Faith brushed her tears away as surrealism melted away.
They were in a school now, in a principal's office, by the looks of it. A very stern blonde-haired woman was sitting next to a fourteen-year-old Faith, who was scowling at the principal's desk.
"I assure you that Faith will never do anything so violent anymore," the woman was saying in a dark voice. Buffy and the older version of Faith watched from behind. "I truly apologize for the head injury to your physical education instructor. Is there anything Dave and I can do?"
"We'll give her one more chance. If she messes up, I will have no choice but to expel her. She is rude, obnoxious and very violent, a perfect teenage delinquent who will turn up in jail soon enough."
"She sounds like Snyder," Buffy hissed to Faith, frowning.
"Come on, Faith. You've been suspended from school for two days. We'll make sure she's punished, Judy. Come on, Faith. Don't make me tell you again."
Buffy and the older Faith followed the pair outside to the car. Immediately, the blonde haired woman turned, screaming, to the hunched over, terrified figure in the passenger seat.
"You little bitch! How dare you strike a teacher? How dare you? I suppose that slut of a Mother of yours didn't teach you any morals! That's all right, I'll make sure we teach them for her. If I find out you've been disruptive again, I will personally see you beaten to a bloody pulp and dropped into the Atlantic! You've been far, far more trouble than you're worth, Faith. You'll be a conniving whore just like Debbie Landing was." Her voice was icy and mocking now, and the younger version of Faith was crying softly.
"I remember that," Faith said from next to Buffy. "I was so scared she was going to start hitting me again... but I had no idea what Dave would do to me when I got home..."
They saw a few minutes later. After walking upstairs to Faith's shared bedroom, they saw a bloodied, broken girl chained by the wrists and ankles to an old, double bed. She lifted puffy black eyes and screamed against the handkerchief jammed in her mouth, choking on her own blood. Deep cuts ran across her face and down her neck and arms. Her nightgown was an old men's white t-shirt, stained with her own blood. Her black hair had been jammed into a painful ponytail. Her eyes were wide and frightened.
Without warning, another figure darted into the room. It was an older blonde girl and she gasped out loud when she saw her younger foster sister bleeding to death on her bed. "Oh, Faith! I'm so sorry about Dad... but you make him so angry sometimes!" She walked over and gently pulled down the bloody handkerchief. Pulling a bottle of water from her pink purse, she helped Faith take a drink. The girl moaned and turned over, heaving. The other girl managed to get a small trash can over to the bed just in time as Faith vomited blood into the dark canister.
The other girl just sat there, rubbing Faith's back and whispering soft words of comfort. When heavy footsteps thundered down the hall, the blonde haired girl turned defiantly to the door as Dave, Faith's foster parent, opened it, carrying a large leather whip in his hand.
"Denise!" he thundered, seeing his sixteen-year-old daughter standing before him, her gaze cool, yet firm. "Get the hell out of here! I want to teach that bitch a lesson!"
"Leave her alone, Dad. Can't you see she's had enough? You'll kill her!"
"That's the idea," he said darkly, taking his daughter by the arm and throwing her roughly out into the hallway.
Faith started screaming, her voice echoing through the house as Dave continued beating the little girl into submission.
"Come on," the older Faith said. "I don't... I can't..."
Buffy caught her as she fell, sobbing, into Buffy's arms. "It's all right, Faith. It's over now."
"How can it be over?" Faith moaned in her arms. "I feel like this is just the beginning... they'll never stop hurting me. I've been hurt so bad by these horrible people claiming to be my parents. The night I was called was the best night of my life. I didn't want to stop believing I was better than someone they could beat... I just wanted to die that night... and I tried..."
Three weeks later, a younger Faith was standing in front of the bathroom mirror. It was cracked and bloody since Dave had put his fist through it in a wave of anger the week before. With a sigh, she opened the vanity cabinet and pulled down a large bottle of valium. A sharp steak knife was in her opposite hand, stolen from the table downstairs.
Glancing at her shattered face, Faith turned to write in her diary one last time.
Locking it, she dumped it into a trash can in the bedroom she shared with her older foster sister, Denise. Grabbing a book of matches, she lit two and watched as her diaries began to burn. Taking a bottle of water from Denise's cabinet, she locked herself in the adjoining bathroom as the smoke alarm started chirping in the other room. Lifting the pills into her hand, she popped one right after the other in her mouth, downing them with a sip of water.
After taking eight, she stared at her fuzzy reflection in the shattered mirror. She heard the sounds of screams echoing through the house as thick black smoke managed to seep through the tiny hole between the bathroom door and the floor.
"Faith!" Denise screamed as the sound of distant sirens grew louder. "Faith, where are you?"
"I wanted more," Faith said in a level voice as she lifted the knife in the air. It sparkled ominously off of the mirror. She stared at her pale wrist. But before she could draw the blade across, the drugs caught up with her system and she passed out, dropping on the bathroom floor just as the door burst open and Dave ran in, seeing his foster daughter lying on the cold tile, a knife in one hand and a handful of pills in the other.
Buffy and the older Faith watched as the younger Faith was brought to the emergency room. After having her stomach pumped, someone from Social Services was called in to question the foster family about the bruises and other signs of abuse found on the Landing girl.
"Things changed from there," Faith replied with an air of triumph. "They still kicked my ass from here to Phoenix, but I was stronger. I thought I saw death that night. I stared it straight in the face and told it that if I didn't get a second chance, then it should take me. Obviously it thought I deserved more than abuse, than hate, than suffering... and I came back."
The room darkened and they found themselves in an unfamiliar house. There was a woman standing in a nursery, staring at a three-year-old girl in a pretty pink bed. She was singing, a long red ponytail over one shoulder.
Oh my darling, oh my darling,
Oh my darling Clementine
You are lost and gone forever,
Dreadful sorry, Clementine.
Light she was, and like a fairy,
And her shoes were number nine,
Herring boxes without topses,
Sandals were for Clementine.
Walking lightly as a fairy,
Though her shoes were number nine,
Sometimes tripping, lightly skipping,
Lovely girl, my Clementine.
The older Faith was smiling gently. "I'd forgotten she used to sing me that song..."
"It's a very pretty song," Buffy agreed as the air in front of them seemed to melt away again.
This time, Buffy knew exactly where they were. Number Twelve Grimmauld Place.
"Where are we?" Faith asked, glancing at a house that Buffy had seen closed up and dead. But now, there was a great feeling of life and happiness here. A woman was walking around wearing a long set of black dress robes. There was a baby girl in her arms.
"Where is your brother, Regulus?" she asked, demandingly of a young man. He looked startled, but turned on his heel and leaned against the banister. "I assume he's at that Potter's, again. It figures. He never was much of a son of mine." She shoved the infant girl into her son's arms. "I believe you told me you had need of this child?"
"She is meant for a sacrifice, Mum," the boy replied, blinking down at the sleeping child in his arms.
"What?" Faith whispered next to Buffy as they followed the pair into the dining room, which was full of people. Faith gasped when she recognized a beautiful red-haired woman sitting next to the man the older woman had just kissed happily. Regulus sat next to the red-haired woman and touched his shoulder.
"She's beautiful, Reg. Isn't she? She has your mother's eyes."
"Yes," he said softly, "she does. Isn't she precious, Rain? She's the perfect little Delita."
There was that name again.
"Are you sure you're all right with this, Mum?" the man asked, turning to look at his mother questioningly. "After all, she is your daughter."
Buffy gasped. Even Faith looked surprised.
"What? No!" Faith gasped next to her.
The world had melted away again.
They were suddenly in France. There were explosions everywhere and people were running for their lives. Both women saw two familiar people running into an alleyway and using their Slayer speed, quickly followed.
"Rain, you have to take her, please! I can't... I won't... she's my sister."
"Oh, Reg, don't do anything stupid, please! I love you!"
"My mother will never accept us," he said, looking desperately in her eyes as the rain started, heavily, down upon them. "I love you, Rain. I will always love you. I'm sorry I have to do this, but..." He stepped back and lifted his wand. "Obliviate!"
The woman screamed as she fell back against the brick wall as though in a daze. He walked over and kissed her passionately, although there was no motion from her lips. "Take care of Lia, Rain... take care of my sister."
"He's in there!"
Faith watched as Regulus Black lifted his wand and came out of the alley. There were brilliant flashes of light until a deep, cold voice suddenly cried out, "Avada Kedavra!"
There was a burst of green and the sound of triumphant yells. Faith ran, stumbling in the puddles, to the body of a man sprawled in the rain. His eyes were open wide, staring up at her lifelessly.
"Oh, God," Faith gasped, drawing in a sharp breath as she swooned. Buffy caught her before she fell. "Oh, God... oh, God..."
"Faith, breathe," Buffy said, helping the other woman to her feet.
"It's all here, isn't it?" Faith asked, her eyes wide and terrified. "What did he to that woman? She looks just like my Mom..."
"I think she is," Buffy said, as they both returned to the unconscious woman holding the baby in her arms. The child couldn't be any more than six months old. "He kept calling her Rain..."
"Look at her," Faith whispered in a voice full of pain and confusion as she brushed the woman's sopping hair from her eyes. "That's my mother... but she's really, really not... oh, my God!"
Buffy suddenly took her by the arm. "Look, Faith... you said you wanted a new life, it was just handed to you, congratulations."
"They said... they said they put a charm on me... but it wasn't them, was it? It was my own brother..." Her voice was soft and hushed in horror. Her eyes were still so wide. Hugging herself in the rain, she glanced up and screamed into the night sky, her cries full of pain and horror and anger and everything else she couldn't feel.
Collapsing to her knees in exhaustion, Faith began to sob. "This is it?" she asked bitterly, sniffling loudly. "This is my life. I was meant to be a sacrifice. My own blood gave me away... and I was f-forced here... into the arms of a woman who had to pretend she was my mother! He put a spell on her and it made her the way she turned out to be. She wasn't a druggie. She wasn't an alcoholic. She was young and beautiful and innocent... and he did this to her... how could he... how could they..." She couldn't talk anymore. She wanted to throw back her head and scream again, except the world was starting to fall away.
They were back on the dark path. Faith lifted pained eyes to meet Buffy's. "Who am I, B? Who am I?"
Buffy reached out and touched her face sadly as even Buffy began to fade away. "Faith, you're Delita Black. They never knew you weren't given up... they never knew you survived. It's time to prove to the world that you really are someone and not just something people can abuse. We were chosen for a reason, Faith. We've never been normal. We'll never be normal. You're my sister, Faith, I love you. We've done things no one can begin to imagine..."
"Buffy? BUFFY? Where are you going?"
"I'm waking up," Buffy said, turning to Faith with sad eyes. "I'm going back to my world now. You'll come back, too. And then... and then you'll show them all that Faith Landing is really someone that..." But her words faded into nothing as Buffy disappeared.
"Oh, God," Faith moaned, hugging herself as she managed to get to her feet. "Is this what the Ministry wanted me to know about? Did they want to tell me I've been a bad girl? Well, good job! You got your wish! You want a bad Slayer, you can have one."
As she turned, there was the sound of a small ping on the ground behind her.
She was in that park again. Her sixteen-year-old self had just bent down and lifted a beautiful chain with a large black stone on it. The Black family crest was brilliantly set against a string of black diamonds.
In her head, she heard an echo of a fractured childhood song.
In my dreams she still doth haunt me,
Robed in garments soaked with brine,
Then she rises from the waters,
And I kiss my Clementine.
"Mommy?" she whispered softly.
And then she screamed once.
And opened her eyes.
x.0.x.0.x
Buffy opened her eyes, gasping as she sat up. There was someone standing in front of her, glaring and waving his arms.
"Miss Potter? Mister Wood? Would you care to explain this?"
Buffy couldn't form one coherent thought as Argus Filch stood over them, shaking his fist. His cat darted around his ankles, mewing. Oliver glanced up with sleepy eyes and gestured towards the dozing portrait. "We've been locked out."
"And you didn't bother knocking?" Argus asked in an outraged voice, his jowls wobbling.
Buffy moaned and put a hand to her head. Talk about facing two different realities at the same moment. She felt as though she had just been ripped from the reality with Faith and her pain and forced back into her own peaceful, quiet life.
"They changed the password this afternoon after the Quidditch party," Buffy explained, yawning.
"It's two in the morning," Argus replied, as though this alone would condemn them.
"We know," Oliver replied. "But we didn't want to bother you and I didn't think it was right for Elizabeth here to spend the night in my guest room. So we stayed here."
He turned to look at his girlfriend, who was scrambling to her feet. "Buffy?" he asked uncertainly. She was turning to look at Filch.
"Look, sir, I don't care if you take a zillion points from Gryffindor. I know I'm out of bounds. But I have to get inside, now. What's the new password?"
"Waddawassi, but--"
"Thank you," she said, giving him a brilliant smile as she ran down the short corridor and started yelling for the Fat Lady to wake up. She did, and appeared to be very angry as she finally opened. Buffy turned to Oliver. "I'll see you in the morning, right?"
"You bet you will," he said as she kissed him briefly before disappearing inside.
Buffy knew what she had to do. She had to get to the Ministry of Magic. Faith needed her, right now, at that very moment. Her Slayer sense was telling her that Faith was going to do something very stupid unless Buffy got there. She glanced around the room wildly for a moment until her gaze settled on the two figures sleeping on the rug in front of the dimmed fireplace.
"Harry? Hermione?" she whispered in disbelief as she knelt down, prodding her brother awake. "Harry, wake up. Please?"
Harry's eyes fluttered open and he saw his sister gazing at him, looking deadly serious about something. "Buffy... what..."
She glanced at the fireplace, her lips pressed together. "Harry, I need to get to Faith. She's at the Ministry of Magic. Can I use this fireplace?"
"You can try," Harry managed to choke out as Buffy ran for her dormitory and returned a moment later with a small bag. Harry was still laying down with his eyes closed when she poked him again. "What?" he asked, annoyed now.
"You're coming with me," she hissed, practically pulling him to his feet. "You need to understand something about Faith. She's more than just the girl who kidnapped me... and you'll find out more soon enough." She offered him her bag and he took a handful of the glittering powder.
"But, Buffy... it's the middle of the night..."
She appeared to not have heard him as she walked straight into the fireplace and threw down her powder. "British Ministry of Magic!" she shouted before the green flames rose around her and she disappeared from sight.
There was a pair of Aurors waiting for her when she stepped into the quiet Atrium. Their eyes were filled with alarm as Buffy ran out, followed quickly by her younger brother.
It was most unusual to expect anyone around in the middle of the night. Seeing the two Potter siblings standing there was even laughable.
"Where is she?" Buffy asked, still unable to form any coherent phrases. "Where is Faith?"
"She's been detained by order of the--"
"Damn it, I don't have time for this," Buffy said, her voice forcefully calm, but Harry knew better. Buffy was very panic-stricken and she was likely to start cursing things soon.
"Please, she needs to see her friend," Harry tried urgently.
"This way," one of the Aurors said, leading them to the elevator. "She's being watched over by the Minister's assistant."
"Percy?" Buffy asked in disbelief, stepping inside the elevator cage. As the doors closed and the cage began to rise, she felt some of the anxiety melt away.
The doors opened and a loud, anguished scream filled the hallway.
"FAITH!" Buffy cried, darting out of the elevator. The Auror and Harry followed, exchanging an incredulous glance. Buffy turned the corner and saw Percy standing there, staring at the door. There was someone screaming from behind it.
"Percy! Oh, thank God!" Buffy cried, reaching him. "Open the door, please... I need to see her now..."
"Alohamora," Percy muttered, pointing his wand to the lock. He wasn't about to question her intentions.
The door clicked and swung open as Buffy ran inside. It was a very dark room lit only by a single candle. There was someone on the floor near the bed, holding herself, screaming.
"Faith..." Buffy said softly as she bent down, wrapping her arms comfortingly around the other girl.
"Oh, Buffy," Faith said in a very high, very stressed tone of voice. "I am so scared... I am so scared..."
"Shhhh," Buffy whispered, rubbing her back. "It's okay now, Faith. I'm here for you. We're all here for you."
"My family was evil," Faith gasped, her voice still high and strained. Her large eyes were very wide and were still streaming with tears. "My family... they wanted to give me up to him..."
Buffy's face tensed slightly as she hugged the other Slayer to her. "It's okay, Faith... your brother was a good man. And remember, we saw that he was alive? We can bring him back, Faith. You two will be reunited, just like Harry and I were."
"But... what if we can't? What if all I know of my own blood is that they tried to kill me when I was only..."
"Faith," Buffy said in a tiny voice. "Don't think about it anymore... please, Faith..." She glanced up at Percy, who was staring at the pair with a stricken look on his face. "Could you please give her something to sleep? Preferably something that'll give her a dreamless sleep?"
Percy nodded and disappeared from the doorway, only to be replaced by Harry, looking startled to see the cold woman being held by his older sister.
Percy returned five minutes later with a second goblet. Faith drank it very quickly and within minutes was sound asleep again.
Buffy watched her from the doorway, feeling a cold emptiness inside. Her life had been far from perfect, but it was nothing compared to what Faith had gone through. Biting her lip, she saw Harry standing behind her.
"Faith had a very hard life. The Ministry just made her relive it through her dreams. A memory charm was placed on her when she was only six months old and it affected the woman she considered her mother. She was insane and she died from a drug overdose. Faith was then put into an abusive household, not too unlike the Dursleys." She paused. "Did you ever ask Sirius why his brother died?"
"No," Harry replied quietly. "I never had the chance."
"He was supposed to offer his baby sister up as a sacrifice to Voldemort," Buffy replied in a deadened voice. "Instead, he put a memory charm on his girlfriend and forced her to take the baby as her own... Faith was called Delita back then, Delita Black. His girlfriend disappeared and Regulus was killed by Voldemort in the failure to bring him such a priceless gift."
Harry was too stunned to move. "Are you telling me that that girl who kidnapped you is Sirius' sister?" he asked in a breathless voice.
Buffy nodded. "Strange, isn't it? Faith believes her family was purely evil and yet we hold the power to bring back the one person who wasn't." She paused, biting her lip again. "She always thought she deserved something better, something more. She was hurt so many times, so much in her childhood... I can hardly recognize her. When she was called as a Slayer, it was the best night of her life because she finally had the power to fight back." Buffy gave Harry a sad smile. "You can't hate her, Harry. I can't hate her. She needs us now. She needs to know she's loved. She needs a family. And I'm going to give it back to her."
"Are you going to bring Sirius back?" Harry asked in an almost awestruck tone.
"I have to try," Buffy said, turning to look in on Faith one last time before closing the door, hearing the lock click on the other side. "I have to do it for Faith."
Buffy and Harry walked back into the brightly lit hallway, where Percy was waiting for them.
"I want her out of the Ministry tomorrow," Buffy told him. "I don't care how you have to convince the Minister. I'll come here myself if I have to. If you're so worried about her, she can stay in your guest suite. I'm sure you have a nice patch of floor for her to sleep on. That way, you can keep an eye on her. We all can." She frowned slightly. "I don't think you know what you brought onto her. You just ripped her from the only reality she knew. I know how that feels. I went through that four months ago." Her face darkened. "If it happens to her again, someone is going to pay. She's suffering, Percy, because of a decision your boss made. I thought he was a wise man. I was mistaken."
She glanced back at Harry. "Let's get back to Hogwarts. It's almost four in the morning... and we both have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."
It was hard to believe that only two weeks ago they were arguing about their own problems. He had never seen Buffy this serious before. Even as they walked back into the Atrium, he asked her something that had been bothering him ever since they had arrived. "How did you know what she was feeling?"
"Slayers share dreams," Buffy replied quietly, offering him her bag of Floo powder. "I spent a good hour walking through her dreams with her... they were worse than terrifying. They made me think that the only thing that would be right again would be to die. The only thing that was good in her world was death... even if it was the most painful way." She turned away before Harry could see the pain in her eyes, the pain she still felt from the horrible dreams. "But it has to get better, now. It has to. It happened a long, long time ago. It just has to get better from here. Because dying shouldn't be a best-case scenario, ever."
Harry knew exactly what she was talking about. He knew exactly how she felt. He had his own choice to make but he prayed he wouldn't see the darkness the Slayers had. But he knew in the days ahead, his own resolve against this would be tested.
x.0.x.0.x
Chapter 35... the DA meets for the first time; Faith arrives at Hogwarts.
Chapter 36... time montage; Faith goes home.
Future spoilers: the Watcher's Council goes down; the prophecy about Sirius comes into a full circle; someone close to Buffy is seriously wounded in an attack; Grimmauld Place becomes Order headquarters again as a true Black returns...
To the Readers / Reviewers:
AlixMM -- Faith will make a decision... but it'll be one of those that's really stupid to make, because suddenly, BAM! I wanted to go for more drama here, so I did. You'll have to wait until Chapter 37 to see it though. And our little Draco... scheming? His first one worked pretty damn well... imagine what he could do if he ever found out that these girls were Slayers... just a thought.
PrecariousPersonata -- Your name is just soooo much fun, just thought I should tell you. And I know I raised the hormone level a bit... but it's too fun! It sort of makes up for the depressing mess of this chapter, right?
Story Oracle -- Thank you. :)
Goddessa -- why, thank you! :) I might pair Faith up with someone, but considering she'll only be in England for a short period of time, I might decide against it. It wouldn't be Draco, since she IS technically related to him. Yeah, they're like second or third cousins on their momma's side. I hope you didn't mind this chapter. For all its darkness, it really shows that Faith turned into a good person, no matter how dark things got for her. She was only arrested technically to get this chapter across. And I know you like Angel and Buffy together, so I'm hoping the Council's chapter helps appease and bring a little bit of life back into THAT particular relationship. I wasn't going to do it, but I might now. I was such a hardcore B/A, and then I read Kallysten and that fell apart. Now that I'm reading crossovers, just about anything could potentially be believable. I've started reading that other story too, the Bicycle one... and darnit, it's giving me more ideas. Must stop.
Laen – Thank you =) I'm glad you're enjoying this, and I hope you like it up to this point, because it's only going to get better and better, or so I say. Then again, it could suck, and I just like it because I'm writing it. Oi.
So, Faith has integrated herself into the story now. I decided to go for angsty drama. Don't kill me for this chapter. I just needed it to show that one, Faith loved Buffy's life back in Sunnydale, and two, Buffy forgot about her life in Sunnydale. More Sunnydale stuff will be coming over, and I'll reiterate that Faith's visit is only a temporary one. Why? You'll find out, soon enough.
Extra spoilers, you say? Well, I think I provided a good few, but I will say that Christmas is at Chapter 40. So... bide your time until then. The prophecy will come knocking. And Draco will get what is rightfully his. Lastly, the two best Weasleys will return to Christmas-y fun and Grimmauld Place will once again become the Headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix, even if it IS under new management. And Buffy spends more time in the Pensieve, too. Christmas will bring both miracles and tragedies... you'll just have to see what we can come up with in the next six or so chapters!
Lastly, I will end this fic at 50 chapters. I'm already over 200,000 words, and while they're great fun and all to write, I need to take some time off for the wedding. If there is a popular demand for a sequel, I'll write it. It'll just take awhile. I have some other projects to work on, not to mention the whole moving and redoing thing all over again. I'm trying to get the Aurora Mirabilis sequel out of the way. I'm working on the collabafic, which I'll probably just end up beta reading for since my time is shrinking to nil. And, of course, Requiem.
Thank you dear readers and reviewers. Sixteen chapters to go and I promise they'll be exciting as whatever they should be. But for now, I need sleep. It's nearly six am and I have yet another day of planning, planning, planning... but at least the bridal shower is done!