by Cutie Pie
Disclaimers: As there has not been a cosmic accident changing my gender and identity, I don't own the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer contained in this piece of Fan Fiction. I'm not making any money on it, and am just doing some therapy and entertaining myself here.
WARNING: The majority of the story is flashbacks, but it jumps around a lot. We all know that Faith didn't have a "peaches & cream" childhood, so beware if you are sensitive to depictions of childhood angst (and if you aren't sensitive to it, you might want to look into therapy for your empathy problem.) It gets rather harsh, including child sexual abuse, but I try not to make it too graphic. I'm kind of doing a character study on what happened in Faith's past to make her the way she is now.
Ratings wise, I think this would probably have to be an R, if not NC17.
Feedback is greatly desired. It's sometimes the only thing that keeps me sharing. I'll always write, but if you want to be able to read it, you need to tell me.
The story begins following the end of Buffy season five, Angel season two, with Faith in prison, and Angel has come to visit, with bad news.
***** indicates a switch in time period
- - - - indicates a lapse of time within the same time period.
She knew. He didn't even have to say a word. She knew from the look on his face that her heart was going to be shattered. Again. As he said the words she dreaded, she hoped that she would survive this time. "Faith, it's Buffy. She . . . she's dead." Then, everything went grey.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Angel wasn't sure what reaction he would get when he passed the bad news on to Faith, but he certainly didn't expect the dark slayer to pass out. She had looked at him as though expecting a physical blow, and as the words left his lips, her eyes just rolled back and she collapsed.
The guard rushed over, and cautiously attempted to rouse the girl. True, she'd never attacked a guard before, but her strength was legendary. After her first day in the Yard, nobody but the foolish or truly desperate even considered a confrontation with her.
********"Prisoner 430019, coming out," the guard barked. A large metal door clanked as it swung open. Squinting into the sun, the prisoner walked outside slowly.
There were already inmates involved in several games of half-court basketball, and others watching. On the north end of the Yard sat the weight sets, all currently in use. Compared to many of these women, the newcomer appeared scrawny, weak, and completely outclassed in the "bad-ass" competition. Faith didn't care. That wasn't why she was here, after all, so she walked to a small patch where the grass hadn't been completely worn away, and sat down in the sunshine.
She decided that she'd just mind her own business and maybe the sun's warmth would help disperse some of the icy coldness that had settled in her chest and hadn't left since she had told that first great lie.
"Faith, you don't understand. You killed someone."
You don't understand. I don't
That's when it all began to go wrong. If only she could go back and smack some sense into herself. But she couldn't. She had screwed up the best thing that had come along in a very long time, and now she was paying for it. She didn't pay much attention when she felt a group of the others come up on her left side.
"Hey, Marla, check out the baby doll here."
"Yeah, Trish. Idn't she the cutest liddle ting?"
Faith knew they were talking about her, but she just rolled her eyes and ignored them. She'd just gotten here, and wasn't about to get in trouble on her first day with relative freedom.
"I heard Jaz was looking for a new toy. This one looks to be about the right size. What do you say, chickie? Wanna be Jazzie's new play thing? Bet she'd treat you real good."
Faith remained still, not responding in any way.
"Ooh, maybe she don't hear so good. Maybe she's broken." A plump, but very strong, hand clamped down on Faith's shoulder.
With no apparent effort, she shrugged it off. "Leave me alone," she growled.
"Hah! Feisty little bitch! This one's gonna be fun."
Faith sensed the fist before she saw it, and moved out of its path. A large redheaded woman stumbled past her, thrown off balance by the strike that didn't hit. The woman's face, already ruddy from rosaceae, flushed darker as she came back around. "Think that's funny, huh? Nobody makes a fool out of Marla."
"Nah," Faith said. "You do a great job of that yourself."
Marla glared at her compatriots, and gestured with her head toward the slayer. Eight women descended on her like a flock of birds on breadcrumbs, kicking and punching from all directions. Witnesses later claimed not to know what happened, but all nine aggressors were on the ground, incapacitated, by the time the guards arrived to break up the fight.
Faith stood alone in a circle of broken bullies without a bruise to show for the altercation. She was saved from a week in solitary when another inmate (who asked for anonymity) snitched on who started it. Somehow, despite the usual grapevine, nobody in the prison population seemed to ever know who the snitch had been. No one pushed, because they didn't want to get on the "new girl's" bad side.
When the first tentative nudges failed to rouse the prisoner, the guard got a bit bolder. When even a firm shaking failed, he immediately sent for the medics. "What did you say to her, buddy?" he asked the stricken-looking Angel.
"It was . . . bad news. A . . . a friend . . . passed away suddenly." Angel fidgeted slightly. He wanted to help, but was prevented from even touching the girl by the thick glass between them.
"Wow," said the guard. "Musta been some friend. This one's as tough as they come." The medics rushed in at that moment, blocking Angel's view of the fallen slayer. Seeing that there wasn't anything that he could currently do, he motioned to the guard.
"Keep me advised of her condition? My name's Angel. I'm listed in her file as a contact." The guard nodded, and went back to watching the proceedings with morbid fascination. With a sick feeling in his gut, Angel slipped out of the visitors' room.