author: Lucinda
rating: pg/pg13
main characters: Tom Cassidy, Cain Marco (the Juggernaut), Faith
disclaimer: I hold no legal rights to anyone from Marvel Comics or the television series 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer'.
distribution: please ask first.
notes: Post season 4 BtVS/season 1 AtS, so Faith is in Prison.
Arranging a trip to California was a bit more complicated and expensive for Tom and Cain than it would be for normal people. Partly because they were wanted criminals. Partly because of Cain's sheer mass, although none of it was fat. Just about a half ton of pure muscle and bone, far stronger and more solid than mortal flesh had any right to be. But then, maybe Cain wasn't quite mortal now, not since he'd become the Juggernaut. It made a few more complications to air travel.
But he wouldn't just leave his daughter to linger in jail. Not unless she was content to be there, although he couldn't imagine why that might be. Tom would go see his daughter. And maybe just take a little time to figure out what she'd done to get put there while they were traveling...
"So... was Faith a bad, bad girl, or just misunderstood?" Cain's question was curious, not quite insulting. "Because it isn't exactly like her life's been full of good examples."
Tom sighed as he looked over the criminal record. Technically, he shouldn't have it. But he'd hired a data specialist to find everything that he could on his daughter, medical file, criminal record, hell, even her driving record. "It looks like she learned to drive from her mother. Speeding, improper parking, a few other things that say she drives like she owns the road. Her medical file... she's had a lot of injuries, over half of which she didn't go to hospitals to get treated, but they've found the scars. Things they've listed as wild animal bites, and claw wounds. Signs of having had bones broken. The poor girl was in a coma for eight months. As for a criminal record... They've charged her with multiple counts of murder, but no witnesses. Circumstantial evidence at best. It's a damn mess, and there's no reason that it couldn't be fought, probably overturned. Except that it doesn't look like she's got a barrister on her side... Might want to look into that."
"And where would a pair of internationally wanted felons like ourselves hire a lawyer?" Cain snorted, finding the idea amusing.
Tom sighed, shaking his head. "A good point. They'd have to be a bit on the darker side of the law, if not basket in hand down the path to the place o' fire an brimstone."
"How do you know Hell isn't frozen?" Cain tossed the question out, possibly an effort to keep from worrying about the flight. Cain hated flying, always afraid the plane would crash, although he'd just walk away from it if there was a crash. Come to think of it, he'd been in a few, which might explain his concern.
The rest of the flight was spent in a debate over the possible geography and population of Hell. Surely there would be politicians, and some criminals, maybe some bad fathers, and probably assorted barristers. Maybe primary school teachers and ex wives. It might not have been cheerful, but it did distract them from worrying about the flight.
They managed to arrive in Los Angeles and slip out of the airport without running into any problems with security or police. Which was good, they weren't here to attract a lot of attention. Tom just wanted to see his daughter. It would be the first time in years, the first time he'd ever had a chance to actually speak to her. It shouldn't work that way, a man shouldn't have to wait until his daughter was nearly a woman grown before talking to her. Definitely counted as a woman grown, if she was in prison. No, this was not the way things should have gone. But try as he might, he couldn't think of a single thing that caused it, no, it was a series of things. A series of misfortune, tragedy, and his basic inability to find and keep a normal job. If not his political views, it was his mutation. Eventually, he'd just stopped trying to walk the straight and narrow. Had it been like that for Faith?
It was a bit trickier finding a place to stay that wouldn't ask too many questions and was not such a miserable wretched place that they'd be tempted to level as an act of community service. By the end, it was a small place, a bit shabby, but apparently free of vermin. Tom seemed to be the only person stating there that looked quite human... It must be some sort of mutant refuge. Walking past a seven foot tall slender figure covered in bronze scales carrying on a conversation with something equally tall with a pair of curving horns and shoulders that a rugby player would cringe from, their exchanges sounding like little more than snarls and growls, he amended that. A refuge for foreign mutants.
He went to the prison, but entered alone. There was a small radio link that he wore, so that he could let Cain know if he ran into trouble, but he planned to go inside alone. His appearance wasn't nearly as memorable as his partner, after all.
Finally, after a number of delays, including a search for weapons, which he wasn't carrying, they let him into a small room with what looked to be the heavy, bullet-proof glass. It was also resistant to super strong fists and fire blasts, as he recalled. He'd encountered the stuff before. And then she was brought into the room. Faith, his daughter. She'd grown so much, but then again, she'd only been nine when he'd seen her before. She looked surprised, as if she'd expected someone else to be sitting there instead of him.
"You aren't Angel. You're... but you couldn't be..." She moved closer, eyeing him with a mix of confusion and suspicion.
Tom sighed, leaning his elbow on the table and his cheek on his hand. "I'm your father, Tom. Your Ma and I... we had a lot of arguments, and she left. Said I was a bad influence, and that you'd do better without me around you... Then, I found out that you were here."
"Guess keeping you away didn't help that much." Faith sighed, her dark hair hanging in limp locks around her face. She had her mother's little sad smile, but her eyes were like his own. "What made her think you'd be so bad?"
He shrugged, looking around in a casual attempt to figure out how closely their words were being monitored. Prisons always monitored what their inmates were doing. "Let's say, I haven't lived a saint's life. Bounced from a few jobs, shady friends... I'm pretty far from an example of virtue."
"Right... how bad could it be? I'm in for murder, and apparently, you haven't done anything bad enough to take you in for long." She looked... bitter and almost lost.
Tom just chuckled, shaking his head slowly as he did. "I'm not such a fool as to work alone. While the charges against me aren't direct murder, there's quite a few of them. Lot of people wanting to catch ol' Tom Cassidy... But you can get out of almost any prison, and the ones that I can't, my partner can get me out of. If you want out, we can manage it."
Her eyes widened, and she made a low whistle. "Damn, my dad's famous. Infamous... whatever. Guess you have done a few things. But..." She paused, staring at her hand, which had slowly clenched into a fist.
"No..." She spoke softly, barely loud enough for it to carry. "I need to sort out a few things, figure out a couple things. Where things got out of control. There are some people who'd like to get rid of me... they can't do anything while I'm here. It would attract too much attention. So, I've got all the time I need to think about my mistakes. There were quite a few."
Tom blinked, looking carefully at her in an effort to judge her sincerity. "You want to stay here? For the thinking time?"
"I did some things that I shouldn't have... got carried away. And then he used those things, dragged me in before I'd even had a chance to think. Now, I got time to think. Really think, because you don't do that in a coma." She looked as if she had a few dark memories bothering her.
Tom placed his hand on the glass, as if he could just reach through it and touch her. Part of him wanted to figure out this 'he' was, and why he'd tried to use his daughter. Another part just wanted to somehow make it all better, which he knew was utterly impossible. But it might not be quite so impossible to figure out who might want to get rid of her… Maybe have a few words with them. "Then sort things out. See if you can figure out your missteps, because I never could. I'll come back, visit you again. And if you change your mind, we'll get you out of here."
"Thanks. Nobody''s offered to spring me before..." Faith smiled, faint, but it was real. "Dad. I can call you that, right?"
He smiled, enjoying the sound of the word. It was long overdue. "Yes, that would be good. You are my daughter, after all."
Tom Cassidy felt oddly introspective as he made his way out of the prison where his daughter had chosen to stay for now. He would go back again, visit her. Try to get to know his daughter, even if only a little. Try to understand these things that had gone wrong in her life, and why she felt only prison would be a safe enough place to take the time to think.
end My Daughter, the Jailbird.
rating: pg/pg13
main characters: Tom Cassidy, Cain Marco (the Juggernaut), Faith
disclaimer: I hold no legal rights to anyone from Marvel Comics or the television series 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer'.
distribution: please ask first.
notes: Post season 4 BtVS/season 1 AtS, so Faith is in Prison.
Arranging a trip to California was a bit more complicated and expensive for Tom and Cain than it would be for normal people. Partly because they were wanted criminals. Partly because of Cain's sheer mass, although none of it was fat. Just about a half ton of pure muscle and bone, far stronger and more solid than mortal flesh had any right to be. But then, maybe Cain wasn't quite mortal now, not since he'd become the Juggernaut. It made a few more complications to air travel.
But he wouldn't just leave his daughter to linger in jail. Not unless she was content to be there, although he couldn't imagine why that might be. Tom would go see his daughter. And maybe just take a little time to figure out what she'd done to get put there while they were traveling...
"So... was Faith a bad, bad girl, or just misunderstood?" Cain's question was curious, not quite insulting. "Because it isn't exactly like her life's been full of good examples."
Tom sighed as he looked over the criminal record. Technically, he shouldn't have it. But he'd hired a data specialist to find everything that he could on his daughter, medical file, criminal record, hell, even her driving record. "It looks like she learned to drive from her mother. Speeding, improper parking, a few other things that say she drives like she owns the road. Her medical file... she's had a lot of injuries, over half of which she didn't go to hospitals to get treated, but they've found the scars. Things they've listed as wild animal bites, and claw wounds. Signs of having had bones broken. The poor girl was in a coma for eight months. As for a criminal record... They've charged her with multiple counts of murder, but no witnesses. Circumstantial evidence at best. It's a damn mess, and there's no reason that it couldn't be fought, probably overturned. Except that it doesn't look like she's got a barrister on her side... Might want to look into that."
"And where would a pair of internationally wanted felons like ourselves hire a lawyer?" Cain snorted, finding the idea amusing.
Tom sighed, shaking his head. "A good point. They'd have to be a bit on the darker side of the law, if not basket in hand down the path to the place o' fire an brimstone."
"How do you know Hell isn't frozen?" Cain tossed the question out, possibly an effort to keep from worrying about the flight. Cain hated flying, always afraid the plane would crash, although he'd just walk away from it if there was a crash. Come to think of it, he'd been in a few, which might explain his concern.
The rest of the flight was spent in a debate over the possible geography and population of Hell. Surely there would be politicians, and some criminals, maybe some bad fathers, and probably assorted barristers. Maybe primary school teachers and ex wives. It might not have been cheerful, but it did distract them from worrying about the flight.
They managed to arrive in Los Angeles and slip out of the airport without running into any problems with security or police. Which was good, they weren't here to attract a lot of attention. Tom just wanted to see his daughter. It would be the first time in years, the first time he'd ever had a chance to actually speak to her. It shouldn't work that way, a man shouldn't have to wait until his daughter was nearly a woman grown before talking to her. Definitely counted as a woman grown, if she was in prison. No, this was not the way things should have gone. But try as he might, he couldn't think of a single thing that caused it, no, it was a series of things. A series of misfortune, tragedy, and his basic inability to find and keep a normal job. If not his political views, it was his mutation. Eventually, he'd just stopped trying to walk the straight and narrow. Had it been like that for Faith?
It was a bit trickier finding a place to stay that wouldn't ask too many questions and was not such a miserable wretched place that they'd be tempted to level as an act of community service. By the end, it was a small place, a bit shabby, but apparently free of vermin. Tom seemed to be the only person stating there that looked quite human... It must be some sort of mutant refuge. Walking past a seven foot tall slender figure covered in bronze scales carrying on a conversation with something equally tall with a pair of curving horns and shoulders that a rugby player would cringe from, their exchanges sounding like little more than snarls and growls, he amended that. A refuge for foreign mutants.
He went to the prison, but entered alone. There was a small radio link that he wore, so that he could let Cain know if he ran into trouble, but he planned to go inside alone. His appearance wasn't nearly as memorable as his partner, after all.
Finally, after a number of delays, including a search for weapons, which he wasn't carrying, they let him into a small room with what looked to be the heavy, bullet-proof glass. It was also resistant to super strong fists and fire blasts, as he recalled. He'd encountered the stuff before. And then she was brought into the room. Faith, his daughter. She'd grown so much, but then again, she'd only been nine when he'd seen her before. She looked surprised, as if she'd expected someone else to be sitting there instead of him.
"You aren't Angel. You're... but you couldn't be..." She moved closer, eyeing him with a mix of confusion and suspicion.
Tom sighed, leaning his elbow on the table and his cheek on his hand. "I'm your father, Tom. Your Ma and I... we had a lot of arguments, and she left. Said I was a bad influence, and that you'd do better without me around you... Then, I found out that you were here."
"Guess keeping you away didn't help that much." Faith sighed, her dark hair hanging in limp locks around her face. She had her mother's little sad smile, but her eyes were like his own. "What made her think you'd be so bad?"
He shrugged, looking around in a casual attempt to figure out how closely their words were being monitored. Prisons always monitored what their inmates were doing. "Let's say, I haven't lived a saint's life. Bounced from a few jobs, shady friends... I'm pretty far from an example of virtue."
"Right... how bad could it be? I'm in for murder, and apparently, you haven't done anything bad enough to take you in for long." She looked... bitter and almost lost.
Tom just chuckled, shaking his head slowly as he did. "I'm not such a fool as to work alone. While the charges against me aren't direct murder, there's quite a few of them. Lot of people wanting to catch ol' Tom Cassidy... But you can get out of almost any prison, and the ones that I can't, my partner can get me out of. If you want out, we can manage it."
Her eyes widened, and she made a low whistle. "Damn, my dad's famous. Infamous... whatever. Guess you have done a few things. But..." She paused, staring at her hand, which had slowly clenched into a fist.
"No..." She spoke softly, barely loud enough for it to carry. "I need to sort out a few things, figure out a couple things. Where things got out of control. There are some people who'd like to get rid of me... they can't do anything while I'm here. It would attract too much attention. So, I've got all the time I need to think about my mistakes. There were quite a few."
Tom blinked, looking carefully at her in an effort to judge her sincerity. "You want to stay here? For the thinking time?"
"I did some things that I shouldn't have... got carried away. And then he used those things, dragged me in before I'd even had a chance to think. Now, I got time to think. Really think, because you don't do that in a coma." She looked as if she had a few dark memories bothering her.
Tom placed his hand on the glass, as if he could just reach through it and touch her. Part of him wanted to figure out this 'he' was, and why he'd tried to use his daughter. Another part just wanted to somehow make it all better, which he knew was utterly impossible. But it might not be quite so impossible to figure out who might want to get rid of her… Maybe have a few words with them. "Then sort things out. See if you can figure out your missteps, because I never could. I'll come back, visit you again. And if you change your mind, we'll get you out of here."
"Thanks. Nobody''s offered to spring me before..." Faith smiled, faint, but it was real. "Dad. I can call you that, right?"
He smiled, enjoying the sound of the word. It was long overdue. "Yes, that would be good. You are my daughter, after all."
Tom Cassidy felt oddly introspective as he made his way out of the prison where his daughter had chosen to stay for now. He would go back again, visit her. Try to get to know his daughter, even if only a little. Try to understand these things that had gone wrong in her life, and why she felt only prison would be a safe enough place to take the time to think.
end My Daughter, the Jailbird.