Lorrie and Wesley started working on hand to hand, covering the basics with Pyro. Wesley was also grinning as he talked about evaluating Lorrie to get an idea of where her training had left her and what needed improvement. Faith had snickered at the way he'd blushed and stammered about the idea that it might be a good idea for Tanya to consider studying a bit of hand to hand and weaponry as well, if only for the exercise.

"He's worse at it than Pyro," Mort whispered to Faith. "And probably twice as old."

"Twice might be stretching it," Faith snickered again. "But he is really bad at flirting. I notice he hasn't tried to evaluate my fighting."

"He seems to be nervous about you, sweetie. I guess he's still working on those missteps of yours," Mort hugged her as he spoke.

"He wouldn't be the only one," Faith leaned against Mort, fighting back another wave of regret and tangled emotions that she couldn't sort out. "I screwed up in a big way."

"If you're going to do something, do it right?" Mort shook his head. "Second chances all around, remember?"

"Yeah."

Pyro moved towards them, one hand waving, "Hey. Someone's here most of the day, right? One of you two, or Tanya… someone?"

"Yeah, seems to be," Faith agreed. "What about it?"

"I've been talking with Lorrie, and Tanya. Mort had a few good points too, about how playing nice and not showing off won't make humans okay with mutants, though he used bigger words," Pyro shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, and looked at Faith. "I don't want to go back. I want to stay here, and try to help."

"You want to stay for Lorrie," Faith said, grinning at him. "I've seen the way you look at her."

"Yeah, well… I can help," Pyro was blushing. "Anyhow, I want my things sent here. There isn't much, but it's mine. All I've got left from before. Someone'll probably need to sign for it, or at least bring the stuff inside so it doesn't get rained on."

"You might want to talk to Tanya, but that doesn't sound like a problem," Faith shrugged. "She'll probably put you to work fixing the place up. And if Wes stays, he's pretty big on school if you're not going to die, so he'll talk about that."

"You mean a diploma," Pyro sighed. "Can I just home-school?"

"No clue," Faith tucked a bit of hair behind her ear. "The cover was that I was home-schooling when Mellie came. I did learn, but that was more about identifying rituals and magical things, weapons, and fighting. She figured I didn't need any of the higher math, and I didn't get much in the literature and social studies. Not too much history either."

Pyro gaped at her, "You mean, you just… dropped out?"

"More of a job-oriented education. I don't need to know algebra or the exports of Peru, I need to know how to stop a ritual to summon a greater horror, how to use a crossbow, and where to hit different demons to kill them. Priorities and all that," Faith shrugged. "Most of the time, getting Called means a year or less for the whole 'rest of your life', so why waste it on exports of Peru and algebra?"

"It sounds not as bad that way, but still not good," Pyro shivered. "And Lorrie?"

"I haven't asked," Faith whispered. "But I don't think the guy who just died would have let her go to a normal school."

"If I've had the most normal childhood out of everyone here, then something's just not right," Pyro muttered. "Wait, what about Mort, Wes and Tanya?"

"I've always been green. Dad didn't care as long as I stayed out of the way, Mom called me a little freak. You can rule out normal for me," Mort sighed, and shook his head. "At least there were plenty of things to read in the library."

"Wes was raised to be a Watcher. He probably got the exports of Peru and algebra, and lots of old languages, demons, magic rituals, and prophecies of doom. I don't think Watchers count for normal anywhere but with other Watchers," Faith almost smirked. "Maybe Tanya had normal."

"If I'm going to risk serious pain and maybe death, at least I get to be around pretty girls and someone who makes great cookies," Pyro grinned. "I'll go check about packages and school."

Watching him leave, Faith had a sudden thought. "I wonder if this is how B ended up with her gang?"

"B? More about your past?" Mort reached out, touching her elbow.

"The other Slayer. I know it's only supposed to be one girl in all the world, but apparently those old magic guys didn't know about CPR and Destiny either doesn't care or thought it would be funny. She drowned, got CPR, felt better, and her life went on. And then there was another Slayer," Faith shivered, uncertain if the temperature had just dropped by ten degrees or if she was creeping herself out.

"You?"

"Some girl named Kendra. She got killed, and then it was me. I'm surprised that none of the Council tried to off me while I was in the hospital. Some of them are real bastards like that. If I die, they get a new Slayer, and she might be more traditional and behave like they expect." Faith shivered again, her mind playing out pictures of dark clad men sneaking into the hospital, of syringes full of funky colored drugs and poisons, of a pillow placed over her face as she laid helpless in a bed.

"How bad was it? Whatever put you in the hospital?" Mort stepped closer, his arm sliding around in a hug. "You mentioned being in a coma, but… what happened?"

"I got stabbed and fell backwards off a building. I don't know what I landed on," Faith whispered. "If I hadn't been a Slayer, I probably wouldn't have made it to the hospital at all."

"I've seen some medical shows. If things were that bad, how do we know you didn't flat-line while they were trying to get you put back together? If you did, could that call another Slayer? If CPR worked, would your heart stopping for a few moments Call someone else too?" Mort pulled her close, his hand touching her scar.

Faith blinked, considering his words. "I… have no idea."

End part 49.