Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Buffy or Stargate characters, the plot is mine although the idea belongs to "ephiny" and her inspiring challenge. I however own Kira, her mother, father and any other my character I may not yet have thought about.
A/N: This is the first chapter of my story and only mentions both worlds. Next one though will be in Buffy plot.
Big thanks to my new and wonderful beta 'dragonlots' (from FanFiction.Net) for helping with this chapter.
Kira had tears in her eyes. Her emotions were tied up in a ball. Her mother was bleeding to death in the bed next to hers in this emergency room, and she couldn't control her guilt anymore than she could have stopped the bastard that had stabbed her mother and banged her head to the wall.
Her next thought felt like slime in her mouth. Her father had done this.
It wasn't enough that he drank every night in some dark bar and then slept with the first person he saw. He had to come back smelling of cheap perfume and alcohol, and then beat the crap out of them, because he thought her mother was cheating on him.
She wasn't, although if it where true, she would be proud of her, her mother deserved better. And so did she. The only reason why Kira was still living with her parents was because she needed to make sure he wouldn't kill her mother. But he did, he still stabbed her, and Kira couldn't stop him, and now her mother was dying because of her.
"No, because of him, it wasn't my fault, it was his. Not my fault, not my fault, not my..."
Kira continued chanting this mantra, trying to calm herself. They were only words. She felt responsible. She was there and saw it all happen. She should have been able to stop him.
"No it wasn't your fault" came a weak voice from beside her.
“Mom, “ Kira wanted to jump up was prevented by her injuries. “I…I’m sorry. I should have done something. But he was yelling and I didn’t see it. I had no idea what he had in his hand and…and now you’re…I’m sorry, mom!”
“It’s okay, Honey. You couldn’t have done anything different.” Her mother paused, like she was trying to use her strength for saying what needed to be said. “You did knock him out with that vase. You called 911.” She smiled weakly. “Although that was grandmas favorite vase. I'm sure even she would understand.”
Kira made a weak sound that resembled something between giggle and whimper. She hoped that wasn’t an attempt at a joke. “Mom, you can ground me or something.”
Her mother shook her head. “I said it was okay, Sweetheart.”
Kira knew she’d be going home alone. Her mother’s death loomed and she tried to choke back her tears. The only thing holding her to her childhood home was about to be severed.
“Before I die,” her mother coughed. “I need to tell you something.” She took a deep breath as if telling her daughter this one thing was the most important event of her life. “Peter isn’t your father.”
Slowly raising up on her elbow, Kira managed to meet her mother’s eyes. She felt a brief pang of surprise and a flutter of hope. Her mother’s admission meant she was no way related to the man who claimed to be her father. The man who had beat her most of her life. The man who would be responsible for her mother’s death.
She had one more question that needed to be answered and she was afraid to ask it. “But you are my mom, right?”
“Yes, Honey, I am.” Her mother shudder. The end had to be close. Kira desperately wanted to be close when the moment came. “Sixteen years ago, I met a man.” She smiled fondly at the memory. “Peter and I had just had a terrible fight.” She winced. “He beat me even then.” She was silent for a time. Kira feared she’d died when her mother spoke again. “I went for a walk and met a man. He was sympathetic and understanding. It - just happened.” Hacking coughs escaped her mother’s pale lips. “He left me his phone number, though I never called him. Peter did his usual “I’m sorry, it will never happen again’. I foolishly believed him.” Her voice dropped. “I never told him what happened. Peter thinks you’re his daughter.”
She was curious. “Why didn’t you call him? Maybe, maybe things would have been different.”
“I made my choice a long time ago. Besides, Honey, he was married.” Her mother’s voice suddenly was very strong. “Promise me you’ll go on with your life. Don’t look back at the bad things that have happened. And please, don’t call your biological father. I wouldn’t want to destroy his marriage.”
“Would you at least tell me his name?” Kira really wanted to know.
Her mother smiled softly. “Jack O’Neill.” She chuckled as she slipped away. “Two L’s.”
The days following her mother’s death were tiresome. First off, though she reported the crime, and in spite of Kira's concussion and her mothers death there were no previous hospital or police records, so the police detective politely told her it would be hard to prove, though they could charge her ‘father’ with assault, if Kira wanted to press charges.
With the burden of funeral also being on her, Kira opted to drop the matter. Peter would come to justice on way or another. Maybe one day he’d drink too much and not wake up. The thought cheered her.
She made arrangements for a short memorial service. There wasn’t much money. Peter spent it all on his drinking. A few of her mother’s female friends showed up. Her mother had never dared have any male ones, due to the fact that it would have earned her a beating.
A few weeks later, after she’d moved out of ‘father’s’ house and into an apartment, a man with a British accent showed up at her door. He had brown hair and wore black horned rimmed glasses.
“Hello, Kira, “ he greeted.
“I was about to go out. I have a job.”
“Yes, I know. I’ve been assigned as your watcher.”
“Your watcher. You’re a potential slayer. In the event,” he stopped. “We need to begin your training.”
“Look. I don’t know who you are or what you want. But if you’ll excuse me, I really need to go to work.”
“Now look here,” he took off his glasses and nervously cleaned them. “I need to get you to the airport and safety.”
“Yeah, right.” She’d meant to slam the door in his face and would call the authorities if he didn’t go away.
However, their meeting got cut short when two black men burst through her window. They advanced on her and the man carrying huge knives.
The Brit managed to kill one but not before the other stabbed him fatally in the back. Kira stood there trapped in the memory of what had happened with her mother, unable to move. The surviving attacker turned in her direction, like he’d just noticed her. With stark terror she realized he didn’t have eyes.
Frozen in her own fear, she didn’t even react when the Brit struggled to his feet and thrust a knife through the thing’s neck. There was a loud snap and the creature fell to the floor. Its blood soaked the cheap carpet.
“You need to leave.” The watcher sank to his knees. “Get to Sunnydale and to Buffy Summers. She’ll protect you.” He pulled a ticket out of his pocket. “Kira, go. There will be more bringers. Hurry.” His body sagged and he died.
She stood there and watched. Instinct and his words finally sank in. She was in danger. She needed to run. Grabbing the ticket off the floor, she hurriedly packed her bags, pulled her cash she kept hidden in the bottom of the flour container, and fled her apartment.
Vaguely, she wondered as she waited for her flight at the airport, was whether or not her father knew anything about these ‘bringers’.
My beta changed some things and I change others so I would suggest to reread this chapter, it isn't too long so that wont feel boring.
And I really appreciate your reviews.