Buffy felt numb sitting on the floor of her bedroom.
Everything has now been flipped upside down.
Twelve freshly made wooden stakes sat beside her; small scrapes of wood scattered on her crisscrossed legs as she stared blankly at the wall in front of her. Her hands moving mindlessly as she sharpened her thirteenth stake to add to the growing pile.
She was currently confined to her room.
Her mom demanding her to stay inside tonight – a storm was going on outside, heavy rain and extreme winds… one of those rare California storms that happens every five to ten years.
Usually, Buffy wouldn't let a storm stop her if she was needed out there. Opening her bedroom window, scaling the roofline, rather it be rain or shine, day or night – slipping out her second-story window and jumping from the roof over the porch into the front yard, was no sweat off her back. It was second nature to do for her – once the sun would set in the evening, and her mom crawled into bed for the night, that is.
The last few nights had been different, however.
Her mom now knew of her being the slayer.
It nine days since Willow was hospitalized from the vampires attacking the school Library – Willow now needing crutches or a wheelchair to get around for the moment. Eight days since Kendra had been murdered by Drusilla, in the Library as well. Seven days since she spilled to her mom about her being the slayer when Joyce had tried to stop Buffy from going out to 'save the world.' Five days since Snyder expelled and tried to accuse her helping with the murder of Kendra. Four days since Willow brought Angel's soul back, just before Angelus could fully open the portal to hell with Acathla – thankfully, saving her from having to kill him like she had dreaded that she would have to do. Two days since the police cleared her name, and Snyder had to start damage control for accusing her of a murder that she was innocent of. One day since Giles came to her mother to better explain Buffy's slayer duties, so Joyce would better understand what Buffy is up against, as well to attest that Buffy did not need to be taken to the loony-bin. And earlier today, when Angel officially ended things with her, skipping town, filled with guilt of what he had done as Angelus – the whole tormenting; aiding Spike and Drusilla, and killing Ms. Calendar thing...
And now, it was less than four hours since her mother had sat her down to tell her that she and her father, Hank, had adopted her when she was a baby...
Biologically, she was not a Summers' like she had always thought and believed herself to be.
She was angry – Not at her mom or dad.
But angry, regardless.
A part of her wished so badly that her parents would have told her when she was younger. Maybe she would have understood better if she had known from a younger age that she was adopted... but then again, maybe she wouldn't have handled it well knowing it at a younger age? It was all so confusing to her. Her emotions where all over the place...
She was angry at the world mostly.
Not only did the fates seem to find it funny to give her an impossible destiny that will get her killed, again—that time most likely permanent—giving her no chance at an actual future to dream about like every other teenager out there. But now, to also have her biological parents give her up – not wanting her... Now, that just felt too cruel. Sometimes, Buffy swore they were all sitting up there, jamming popcorn into their chubby old wrinkly faces, laughing it up as they watch her unfortunate life unfold before them – some sick twister horror-comedy movie at their disposal.
It was a rejection Buffy never knew she would ever have to feel in life.
Rather the giving of her up as a baby was intentional or accidental – the feeling of rejection was strong and present.
In hindsight, it made sense as Buffy thought it over.
Setting her now finished thirteenth stake onto the pile of stakes beside her, Buffy pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs, hugging them to her tightly as she continued to stare at nothing in front of her. She didn't look like either of her parents, if you didn't count the lighter-colored hair, that is. Both her mom and dad were taller than she, not extremely tall… but still, both taller than Buffy's small 5'2 statue, as was the rest of the extended family. Buffy's light gray eyes had always been a mystery to her – all of Joyce's side of the family had brown eyes – her dad Hank's, all being a mix between brown and dark green. She had neither of her parents' features when it came to her face shape, no similar nose; smile; or body shape…, always putting it off to maybe taking after a great-grandparent or distant cousin or something like that.
But nope... there was no great-grandparent or far off cousin she could attribute her looks to... but a completely different family altogether.
Her mom had handed her a small box earlier that evening. It only had a few items inside that the adoption agency had given to her parents' when the adoption had been finalized. It included a dirtied onesie that she arrived in at the orphanage in Los Angeles, and only one baby shoe – the other one apparently not being on her when she was placed on the steps of the orphanage. The lone baby shoe and onesie looked to be quite an expensive buy for a baby. Even with the dirt stains on them, Buffy could tell it came from a high-end boutique store. Along with the onesie, there was half of a once beautiful silk and lace baby blanket that her mom said she was wrapped in when left – that too, most likely coming from a nice boutique store, possibly the same boutique that the onesie and shoe came from. The blanket had a few tears and a few chunks missing, with darkened and crisp edges.
There was also a beautiful antique necklace with a pendant in the shape of a circle – the size compared to a fifty-cent coin or golden dollar coin. It had a small cross placed on both the front and back of it. It appeared to be pure silver, but Buffy wasn't one hundred percent certain since she didn't know its origins besides it appearing to be antique. On both sides of the circle pendant, surrounding the cross, laid a bunch of what looked to be runes of some sort? It was a locket, that Buffy was sure of...or at least, she was ninety percent sure it was? She was more hoping, and in a way pleading that it was a locket. Keeping her fingers crossed that there was a picture inside of her birth parents. And if no photo, maybe some clue to who she was – but it was locked.
Even with her slayer strength, the locket wouldn't budge!
Even more surprisingly, no matter how hard she twisted and pulled. The locket never dented or cracked!
Whatever material the locket was, along with the chain – it was slayer proof – something she had never come across before..., so maybe it wasn't silver after all?
The only thing that did unlock was the clip to the chain, allowing her to put it on or take it off if she so desired to do so. But seeing as it was fit for a one-year-old baby's neck – Buffy wasn't too keen on choking herself by trying to force it to fit her sixteen-year-old self's neck! So, the locket laid in the box along with the other items, sure to just pile with dust yet again as it was no use to her.
There was also a partial-birth certificate that looked as if it had survived some sort of fire or blast. Both the names of her biological parents were scorched out, only showing an S-I for the first name and a maybe a C of the last name if she squinted hard enough in the area of where her birth father's name was. Above that, the word daughter was printed out with what was her first and middle name –
Lyra Anne
Of course, with her luck, the last name was burnt out there as well… The side of the certificate where her birth mother's name should be, was blackened entirely and crisped out, not a single letter visible, leaving zero clues there. The bottom of the certificate showed the date marked as January 19, 1981. Half of the 1 in the year date was blackened along with the lower corner of the 8. Below the date was the location of her birth, which was listed as London, England. The last two letters of England missing as well, it too, matching the burnt areas of the whole left side and upper half of the certificate – conveniently, leaving Lyra Anne a mystery to who's child she was.
Her mom said she and her dad wanted to honor her birth parents in a small way, and for that, they kept Buffy's middle name as Anne. The name Buffy, was the nickname of Joyce's grandmother, who was named Elizabeth – how they got the nickname Buffy from that, was beyond her – but it was the name that her mom so badly wanted to give to a future daughter if she were ever to have one..., and so it was.
She hadn't called Willow or Xander yet to tell them the bombshell her mom had just laid on her.
Buffy was still trying to come to terms with it herself. Still processing all the info – and lack of, given to her.
She kept trying to picture what her birth parents looked like. Did she look more like her dad, or was she the spitting image of her birth mother? If not, maybe she was a healthy mix of the two of them? Were her wit and quick snapback's something she inherited from one of her parents or was that something that was entirely all her? So many questions she had, and many of them she knew would most likely never be answered. Most likely, she will be left to wonder and question these things for the rest of her life – however long that life may be, with being the slayer and all…
"Buffy?"
Buffy slowly turned her head to see her mom standing just outside her bedroom door, looking fidgetily.
Clearly, Joyce was going through the motions just as her daughter was – possibly even more.
"I –" Joyce stumbled over her words, not sure how to approach Buffy at the moment. Sure, there were books on how to inform your child they were adopted. Joyce had read many of them over the years, trying to prepare for this exact moment. But none of those self-help books were helping her right now – ironically...
"It's okay, mom," Buffy answered, knowing her mom needed to hear that. She knew that her mom needed the reassurance that she wasn't angry or upset with her – and she truly wasn't. Buffy knew how lucky she was to have Joyce be her mother – rather by blood or not – Joyce was an amazing mother and had put up with so much from her over the years... she was blessed to be her daughter.
Joyce signed in relief, leaning her head against the doorframe. Her daughter had been handed so much so early on in life, and Joyce truly didn't know what she did to get such a strong and selfless kid in this life of hers. "Are you, though?"
Buffy sniffed, shrugging her right shoulder, feeling confused about it all, "I don't know?" Her leg was twitching, her voice getting smaller and shakier as she spoke, "How am I supposed to feel?"
"Oh, honey!" Joyce moved forward, taking a seat next to her daughter on the floor, wrapping her arms around her. "You are allowed to feel anything you want." Rubbing her hands up and down Buffy's frame, reassuring her that her mom was there for her, "Just remember honey, there is no right or wrong feeling for this type of thing!"
"Why did they not want me?"
Smoothing Buffy's hair down with her hand, Joyce sighed heavily, knowing from the self-help books that no answer she gave would ever fully satisfy her child, "I'm sure they wanted you, Buffy!" Joyce quickly kissed her head. "Any mother and father would have been crazy not to want you, with those beautiful blond locks and those big doll-like eyes you had as a baby – no one with a sane mind would have willingly given you up!"
"Then why did they leave me?"
Joyce hummed, tucking Buffy's head under her chin, still holding her close, "From what the agency could gather, your family must have either been on vacation or had recently moved to L.A." She paused, kissing her daughter's head again, trying to take as much comfort as she was equally trying to give too Buffy. "You arrived covered in soot and bits of your clothing torn and singed as if you had been in a fire or some sort of accident," another quick kiss, this time to Buffy's forehead. "At first, when your father and I had arrived and first saw you, the agency informed us that it may only be a short-term fostering plan. They were hopeful that they would be able to locate your parents, and if not, some other living relative… But as the months passed, it became apparent that the chances of them being found were becoming less and less... We were able to file for legal adoption after fostering you for seventeen months, making you officially ours."
"So, they're dead then?"
"I'm not sure, honey." Joyce answered softly, "The agency, as well as the Los Angeles police, searched for them and tried finding any information besides what little your birth certificate gave – even going as far as contacting Scotland Yard, in London, for further records on you. But what is mind-blogging is that there was no Lyra Anne entered into the system for the time period of your birth in all of Britain…" She sighed, knowing this wasn't the information Buffy was hoping for. "There was plenty of Anne's and a couple Lyra's here and there, but no combination of the two together." Letting out another small sigh, Joyce continued, "It's as if your birth had been completely erased from the British system – or possibly, had never been entered into their system in the first place."
Buffy snorted, "Everything about me screams the wiggins, huh?"
"Buffy..." Joyce scolded.
Buffy laughed, the mood lifting a tad with it, "Well, you have to admit it, mom, nothing about me so far has exactly been normal…"
"Wait – so let me get this straight!" Xander stood, leaning against the library banister, waving his hands around cartoonish, " – you, thy Buffy Anne Summers are not in fact actually thy Buffy Anne Summers, after all?"
Buffy pressed her lips together, tilting her head at her spazzing friend, she was sat in one of the chairs at the main table on the first level of the Library. "That would be a yep, sounds about right... I mean, from what I've been told anyways."
"So, no more Buffy Summers?" Willow asked from her seat next to Buffy, pouting in confusion at the new information being provided to her. Her eyes were wide and she was looking back and forth between her two best friends in normal Willow panic, "What do we call you then!"
"No, Will…, there is still a Buffy Summers legally, that is. I'm just not biologically a Summers, apparently."
Xander relaxed his arms, crossing them over his chest, taking a bit of a more serious tone, "And no idea who the blood rents could be?"
Buffy's mouth turned downwards for a second before trying to appear indifferent and as causal as she could in this type of situation, shaking her head, "Nope, nada."
Willow leaned forward, resting her arms on the table, folding them over one another – trying to stop her nervous tick of drumming her fingers on the table from happening. The redhead's lips twitching upwards, in an attempt at offering an encouraging smile to her best friend. "Well, I'm sure we can do some data searches and see if we can find any matches on the web! You know, finding hard-to-reach information has gotten so much easier since the eighties with the internet now! So, I'm sure we can find anything that the L.A police may have missed or overlooked! And I can look into some of the data bases from London and see if I can find any matches or leads that connect to Los Angeles?"
"Thanks, Will." Buffy smiled her thanks at the redhead, "But I think I'm okay with not knowing who they are for now."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure... maybe a little later I'll take you up on that offer. But for now, I think I'm good – Still in the processing and accepting part of it all at the moment."
"Well, if or when you do change your mind, Buffy – "
"– Thanks Willow, really... But I don't think I will, at least for now." Buffy cut Willow off, sending a small smile her way in hopes she understood.
Willow nodded understandably, "I get it."
The more she thought of it, the more Buffy believed she did not want to know who her biological parents were. It would hurt too much to find out if they were still alive and really did give her up because they didn't want her.
"I kind of just want to be in the unknown for a bit – If they are alive, and didn't in fact want me...well that..." Buffy didn't finished. She didn't need to. They all sat there, knowing that was something none of them would want to know if they were in her position.
"Ahem – may I ask, how are you faring with all of this information, Buffy?" Giles added, speaking for the first time since Buffy had laid the news of her adoption on them.
He had what was left of her original birth certificate in his hands, looking it over carefully as the everyone else had been speaking. The feel of the ruined paper was weighed down and had a rougher texture than what he expected it to feel – but that could be explained away from the damage it had endured. The damage had caused it to crisp out and harden throughout the remaining visible portions – that along with natural aging and it not being properly stored for the condition it was in, made it hard to determined what type of paper was used, and if there were any other clues to what hospital or section of London it could have came from.
Buffy shrugged one shoulder, not meeting the eyes of anyone in the room, "Eh, wigging out a little bit if I'm being honest." She huffed, uncrossing her arms, letting them hang by her side motionless. "But there's not much I can do about it. Mom said one of the L.A police precincts searched for any possible leads for around a year of two, and kept an eye out for any missing baby reports that fit my description… Apparently, they even contacted Scotland Yard in London and all that jazz, but it was all a big no go in the end…"
"Still can't believe that Buffy hails from the land of the Giles!" Xander spewed out, "All that tweed!"
Buffy snorted; she too, couldn't believe that she was from the land of tweed!
Totally wild!