Faith walked into the sitting room, surprised to see Mort and Pyro apparently having a rather heated, if low-volume, discussion. Whatever they were talking about had Pyro making expansive gestures, and his one hand was a tight fist.

"Hey guys," Faith commented, smirking as they both twitched. "Don't force me to call you liars by trying to pull some lame excuse for the pow-wow."

Mort just chuckled, "I wouldn't want that. Would you settle for 'it doesn't involve you', or would you still try to get more details?"

Faith shrugged, and settled for sitting on a chair. "That depends on how big of an impact it will have on my future. I rather like having one, and I want to keep it."

Pyro nodded, muttering, "same with me."

"How goes the library efforts?" Mort asked, clearly trying to change the subject.

"Picture a cat introduced to catnip, and substitute a guy for the cat and a bunch of old books for the catnip," Faith paused to let them both snicker. "I have no idea if they've found anything useful, but either the pair of them are getting really friendly, or they're busily looking through the books. Just in case, I didn't open the door."

Pyro chuckled, and then murmured, "I'm not too sure that I want to go back."

Mort blinked, and made a small noise, "ehhh?"

"To Xavier's, I mean," Pyro was focused on his hand. "He keeps saying that if we learn to control our abilities, if we give the humans time to get used to the idea that mutants are here, that we're not going to go away…"

"That everything will be just fine?" Mort finished, one eyebrow raised. "Does anyone actually believe it would be that simple?"

"I think a couple people do. Or else they don't see any better options." Pyro sighed, slouching against the arm of the couch. "But I'm not sure Magneto's a better option."

"So, does this mean you want to stay here and fight vampires and demons with us? We don't care what your genes say, and you'll probably die young and in great pain…" Faith paused, considering her words. "Why the hell would anyone actually volunteer for this anyhow?"

"When did you find out that vampires were real?" Pyro's question was faint, as if he wasn't sure he wanted to ask.

"I was nine," Faith murmured. "We were out for a walk – me, my mom, and her boyfriend. Everything was going, and I remember that I was worried about the guy asking mom to marry him, and then… These two guys attacked. Their faces looked weird, and I remember wondering if they were mutants, but…"

"Hey!" Pyro glared, and then the scowl melted. "Of course, having seen the vampires, I guess I can understand that. What happened?"

"They killed mom's boyfriend, and they nearly killed my mom. The first vamp had said something about saving me for desert." The memory made her shudder, especially since she could still remember the feeling of his eyes, slowly passing over her, the way that her mom's boyfriend had looked at her mom. "Mellie showed up, and got them with holy water. She saved us, and after that… We both wanted to know a little more about how to keep them away. I didn't find out until later that… Well, Mellie didn't tell us everything that night."

"Where's Mellie now?" Pyro asked.

Mort stood up, walking over to wrap his arms around her. "You're not alone, Faith. I promise."

"Mellie's dead, a vamp killed her." Faith closed her eyes, leaning into Mort. She didn't mention the fact that Kakistos had ordered Mellie to be tortured first, or that she'd seen part of it, that she'd found what had been left of Mellie afterwards. "It wasn't quick."

"So, the options for my future are to try to pretend to be human and hope that nobody learns otherwise or makes an accusation, become a target by trying to demand that mutants be treated as equals or better, become a sitting target by hoping that with enough time," Pyro made a rather doubtful face at that before continuing, "the humans will decide mutants are okay, or get killed fighting monsters that aren't supposed to exist."

"Apparently, nobody's explained to the monsters that they aren't supposed to exist," Mort commented dryly.

"How did Lorrie get involved in this mess?" Pyro asked.

"You guys are both mutants because you're born a little bit different from the normal humans," Faith began, with a small frown. "Thus ending my scientific knowledge of mutants in general, and moving on. I think mutants are probably a relatively new thing, but monsters like vampires aren't. So, a long, long time ago, a bunch of people who were sick and tired of their families getting munched on worked some sort of big, scary magic ritual, and prayed. In answer, the first Slayer was empowered."

"Slayer?" Pyro repeated, hinting for her to go on.

"There's a speech that goes along, but let me give you the cliff notes version. The world is old, and scary, filled with dangerous things that like to eat people. One girl in all the world is chosen to fight them – she is the Slayer. The Slayer gets to fight all the scary things, and to help out, she gets super strength and reflexes, some sharp instincts, and weird dreams to remind her that scary things are out there, and sometimes to hint at what scary things are here. The Slayer gets hurt a lot, so she has to heal faster. Eventually, the Slayer dies, and another one is chosen."

"You said 'girl'. How old are Slayers normally?" Pyro asked, looking worried. "And who chooses them?"

"Nobody chooses, it's fate, or destiny, or whoever's closest to the next oncoming disaster. There's hundreds of girls and young women out there at any point, training and learning in case, but nobody knows who's next. The records from the last three hundred years say that a Slayer is normally called between thirteen and sixteen," Faith sighed, and closed her eyes. "There's no retirement plan. From the records, it's not uncommon for there to be two or three new Slayers a year."

"Shit…" Pyro whispered.

Mort just held Faith close, rubbing his hand along her back.

"Lorrie's a potential Slayer," Faith continued. "I'm not a potential anymore. I was Chosen about a month before Mellie was killed."

End part 45.

For what felt like a long time, they sat in awkward silence, with Faith thinking unhappy thoughts about the tendency of Slayers to die early, and in great pain. Mort was still holding her, and Faith leaned into his embrace, feeling glad that she had someone.

"What kind of help do Slayers get against everything that's not supposed to exist but does?" Pyro asked, his voice quavering slightly.

"We get a Watcher, someone with lots of books to tell all about the nasty monsters and what nasty things they might do. They teach us some about fighting, and they keep track of the weapons that we might need." Faith paused, swallowing hard. "The old tradition goes, 'she alone can fight the vampires', and they do mean alone. Most Slayers are given some weapons and sent out to patrol, with instructions to report back later. Mellie thought that sounded stupid, and went with me, but… There was only so much she could do."

"What do you mean?" Pyro was looking pale, and his hand was playing over his lighter again.

"Mellie was great at identifying that monster, and a good shot with a crossbow, but she wasn't that strong. Granted, she was in good shape for a woman, but human strength against something that can put a dent in a car door - the old ones, from when they were actually made out of metal instead of fiberglass – is not even close to an even fight." Faith remembered one night when a vampire had gotten past them both, how he'd nearly choked Mellie because the woman hadn't been strong enough to pry his hands off her throat. "I had to do most of the fighting, and even then, I knew I was a lot luckier than most Slayers."

"You mean these people are sending out thirteen year old girls with pointy sticks against monsters?" His shout was a mix of disbelief and anger.

"Most are closer to sixteen, and it's more like a couple pointy sticks and a knife, but yeah. And then the Slayers die." Faith closed her eyes, not wanting to let herself cry. It didn't matter that it wasn't fair, pointing it out wouldn't change anything.

"I think the alone part is the stupidest thing that I've ever heard, even more than that 'if you smile nicely at the humans they'll know that we can just all get along' rot," Mort snarled, one hand gently gripping Faith's shoulder. "So I've been helping her ever since she saved me from a group of vampires."

"How can I help?" Pyro whispered.

"The fire thing would be great against vampires, they burn real easy," Faith commented, thinking out loud. "We can help you learn how to fight, and then you too can go out and get bruises."

"At least yours won't clash with the green of your complexion," Mort mock-grumbled.

Pyro's smile was rather shaky at the joke. "Right. So, do I get to learn a crossbow, and more importantly, do I get to learn why Tanya keeps one in the kitchen cupboard?"

"Oh, that's because we all agreed that there was no point in keeping a crossbow in the bathroom," Faith giggled. "While it might not be a bad idea to have a weapon, if something's in the bathroom with you, a crossbow's no good. It's for when you can get them from a distance, not when you can reach out and touch them."

"The bathroom?" Pyro blinked, frowning. "Why would… never mind. I don't think I want to know how it got there."

"Sensible," Mort agreed.

"Okay, I'm in. I'll probably hurt for it, but I'm in. Lorrie might need someone willing to stand with her, after all," Pyro said.

"Good. I have the feeling that we can use all the help we can get," Faith murmured. "The head vamp, she's decided that she wants more minions. Complication is that she's going after mutants. The one that we ran into couldn't have been turned more than five years ago, but he was a lot tougher than most young vamps. If she can get even a handful of tougher minions like that…"

Pyro's grin faltered, and he made a little noise. "ehehe… minion vampire mutants. Joy."

End part 46.