Large PrintHandheldAudioRating
using
 paypal
Twisting The Hellmouth Crossing Over Awards - Results
Is your email address still valid?

The Family Business

StoryReviewsStatisticsRelated StoriesTracking
Story

Summary: A father willing to do anything to protect his child and a daughter willing to do anything to make her father whole again. Mix in the Winchester family and you’re in for one hell of a ride.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Supernatural > Faith-CenteredDrusillaFR1848,0771173,5657 Nov 1012 Feb 12No

Chapter Three: Chosen One

Bobby Singer’s Home
Outside of Sioux Falls, SD
Spring 1995



“Why couldn’t my dad be more like you?”

Faith paused outside the door of her father’s study, and then peered inside to spy on her dad speaking with Sam Winchester. Dean was off on a hunt with John and they asked if it was ok to have Sam stay there because Sam asked them until they grew irritated enough to ask Bobby for the favor. Since John wasn’t under good terms with a lot of hunters, Bobby was his only resort to watch Sam, who’d been complaining a lot lately about being left alone in a motel room for too long. Though Bobby didn’t agree with many of the parenting choices John made, he tried to keep his mouth shut many times so that he could have opportunities like this. To give the boys some sort of childhood. Faith counted her lucky stars many times that her dad kept her and didn’t shuffle her off to some distant relative, she could only imagine what would’ve happened to her had he done so.

“He does the best he can, Sam,” said Bobby, making Faith roll her eyes.

“He doesn’t get me. He laughed at me the other day when I said I wanted to be a doctor when I grew up.”

‘Ass,’ thought Faith and Bobby at the same time.

“Hey Sammy,” said Faith as she entered the study. “I’m bored, wanna go do something?”

“But it’s almost dark,” said Sam, a stickler for rules.

“Almost, not quite. Want to go for a quick walk? I haven’t gotten the mail yet.” At that moment one of the five phones her dad had, this one being the F.B.I. one, rang. “He’s gotta get that call anyway.”

“All right,” said Sam and Faith playfully wrapped an arm around his shoulders as they exited the house.

It was going to be spring soon, the snow melting down to show patches of brown grass. It was warm enough to where they only needed light jackets and his sneakers and her boots squished in the mud of the driveway. Rumsfeld, seeing the duo starting to walk down the drive, got up from his spot in the yard, deciding to tag along.

“You don’t have to pretend to be nice to me,” said Sam softly, making her start and look down at him. “I know you like Dean more.”

“Who told you that? Dean?”

Sam shrugged and Faith rolled her eyes. “Dean can be an ass.”

Sam smirked, and then nodded. “He’s a good brother though.”

“You’re lucky, you get to have a brother, I’m stuck with my dad all the time,” she said, teasing mostly.
“Believe me you don’t want a brother around all the time. And… I WISH I had your dad.”

“Dad has his moments,” said Faith. “John is… different. He just… wants to make sure you two are prepared.”

“Because of mom,” said Sam softly.

“Yeah.” She ruffled his head and he scowled at her. “Could be worse, Sammy, at least you have a dad.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” said Sam.

They walked some more in silence. The sky was darkening and the sun was kissing the horizon, signaling they had about fifteen minutes before it got completely dark. Faith checked the mailbox and pulled out some papers as well as a couple bills. Sam found a large stick and on the way back to the house he played fetch with the Rottweiler. The sound of rustling in the trees had them both stiffen but when a rabbit hopped out they relaxed, then laughed as the dog tried to catch the animal and failed.

“Is this what I’m going to have to do the rest of my life?” asked Sam sadly, making Faith remember the conversation she heard earlier. “I don’t… I don’t want to do this forever. I want a family with a real job, not… this.”

“Sammy, you’re your own person, don’t let anyone tell you what to do if you don’t want to do it. Uh, let me rephrase that, when you turn EIGHTEEN you’re you own person.”

“I want to be a doctor.”

“Then do it.”

“My dad won’t let me.”

“He won’t have much say when you get older…” Faith winced. “Don’t tell him I told you that though.”

They shared a look, and then laughed. She once again ruffled his hair but he didn’t protest only shove her to the side and when that glint came to her eye he ran for it but he was no match for her speed and soon two, muddy children were entering the house and all Bobby could do was shake his head when Faith handed him his wet mail and tell them whatever they tracked in they were cleaning up.
.
.
.

“I wish this was my family,” whispered Sam as he lay near the fireplace, half a cup of hot chocolate sitting beside his bedroll. Faith had asked if he wanted to sleep downstairs for the night with her as sort of a camp out. He pretended it was a dumb idea but grew excited for it when she came in his borrowed room with a couple sticks and a bag of marshmallows.

“To me, Sam, you’ll always be family,” said Faith who was tucked in her bedroll. The dog lay between the two of them, providing extra warmth and they could her Bobby in the next room talking to someone on the phone.

“Thanks… sis.”

Faith smiled then closed her eyes.

“Get some rest, your dad is going to be here in the morning.”

“Don’t remind me…”

Feeling a bit troublesome Faith sat up slightly to look at Sam.

“I got a pair of new knives for my last birthday. Want to have a throwing contest before you go?”

“Hell yeah!” said an ecstatic Sam. “So long as we get to show Dean the dummy afterwards. He always gets so pissed cause I’m so much better at wielding a blade than he is. You too.”

“Oh, believe me, we will.”

.
.
.

Faith glared angrily at the taillights of the Impala as it drove away. Early in the morning they had all woken up, eaten breakfast, and helped Sam get packed. When that was done, Faith had grabbed her blades and her and Sam spent the early morning hours tossing daggers at targets. Sam managed to hit either the bull’s-eye or a ring or two outside of it, same as Faith. When John arrived, Sam had proudly showed him his board and all John could do was say: you could do better.

At Sam’s defeated look, Faith piped up to say that most of the outside ring targets were hers. It was a lie. She knew it, Sam knew it, Dean knew it, and so did John. However, he wasn’t about to argue with her in front of her dad, who then said that for their age and the amount of training they did a damn good job and would take down any beastie with their knife wielding skills. John barked orders for Sam to get into the car because they had another job to get to that was down south. Sam had stiffened and barely whispered his goodbye to her before rushing to the car. Dean and her eyes met for a brief second, his filled with gratitude and a little sadness before her smirked and winked at her. She rolled her eyes, flipped him off much to her father’s delight, and watched the Winchester’s leave.

Going into the house she slowly started to clean up the mess that’d accumulated over the week and then headed out back. Her throwing knives were still in their case and she brought them out. Staring down the target she envisioned John’s face and with five quick throws, five daggers were embedded perfectly in the center.

“Remind me never to piss you off,” said her dad as he wrapped in arm around her.

“Can I ask why it is you never brought me up the same way he did?”

“Cause a kid needs to be a kid no matter what is out there. Yes, I want you to know about the supernatural and be prepared for it, but I also want you to experience life outside of this chaos.”

“Sam is so sad.”

“I know.”

“I have a feeling when that kid grows up he’s going to be tough to handle,” said Faith with a smirk.

“Like you?” teased Bobby.

“I’m a perfect little angel.”

“Yeah. Right.”

“By the way, about getting a tattoo…”

“No, no, and NO.”

“But DAAAAD!”
.
.
.

Bobby Singer’s Home
Outside of Sioux Falls, SD
Spring 1998


Faith shot out of bed, sweat coating her body as she tried to catch her breath. Tears sprang to her eyes as she put her hand to her throat. Nightmares, she’d been having them for a while now, and once again she’d been dressed in white being fed upon by what looked to be a vampire: then dropped into freezing water. Her door sprang open and her father came in with a shotgun and seeing her shaking to near death on the bed he dropped his gun and held her close against his warm chest. She clung to his warm flannelled shirt and took in the familiar scent of whiskey and tobacco.

“Another one?”

“Yes.”

“What happened this time?”

“I was bitten, then drowned… Dad what’s going on?”

“I… I have an idea. Faith, I think…” He pulled back from her, his sad eyes meeting hers. “I think yer a slayer.”

“A what?”
.
.
.

The dreams, the sudden urge to go out at night, the extra strength she’d shown while training. It was all making sense now. Her dad said that a slayer was a girl, a chosen girl, which fought vampires and demons. He tried to make a joke of it that it was something she already did. It didn’t help no matter how much he tried to sugarcoat it. She was scared. She was seeing someone new die night after night, and sometimes it was a girl she’d never met before, and sometimes it was her. Her dad was making some calls, some to a guy in California and some to people in London. He explained it to her, said that sometimes the girls were taken away to train, and that he wasn’t going to let that happen to her. She didn’t want to leave and live with some stranger. From the yelling coming from downstairs, he wasn’t having much luck.

Sighing, she rested her brow against the glass of her window, wishing she could be regular Faith Singer and not some crazy warrior princess that was supposed to help save the world. A creek at her doorstep had her twisting around and sitting on the window seat facing her father. The look on his face let her know that things had not gone well…

“The Watcher’s Council, a place that helps train slayers, is sending out a Watcher for you. I tried tellin’ them I’ve been training you. I think they want to see for themselves how good you are. Maybe… maybe I can work it with them for you to stay here once they see how advanced you are, but they were makin’ demands. Said there’s no use for a Slayer way out where we are that… that you’d be better off going somewhere where the population is larger…”

“NO!” Faith looked at her dad, pleading. “They can’t make me leave. This is my house. I refuse to go!”

“Trust me when I say I’m going to be doing everything in my power to keep you here and if it means to run away then we’ll do it. You hear?”

“Yeah… yeah I hear,” she whispered, fighting the tears in her eyes. “What do we do now?”

“Now? Now I turn into the drill sergeant dad I never wanted to be. Right now I want you to get dressed and get ready to train. Then we’re going to do a little more research on the slayer. The contact I have in California? He’s currently training a slayer and told me a story on why it was you were called… Get ready, and I’ll tell you it.”

Faith slid off of her spot and on autopilot, changed into her workout gear. She was curious to hear more about the origins of a slayer, and why it was she was called now. However, an hour or so later, she was regretting ever wanting to learn more about being a slayer, because the more she read, the more she was certain she was going to die by the age of eighteen.
.
.
.
“What’s wrong?” demanded Dean. Faith was calling, and at an odd hour at that, and she only did that when something was wrong. “Faith?”

“I need to see you. Soon. Can… can you get here?” she asked softly. “Sammy, too?”

“We’re in Nebraska huntin’ some weres. We're going to be here a while since the full moon isn't for a few more days. What's going on?"

“I’m going to die, Dean…” she said, close to breaking down.

“WHAT?!”

“I need to see you…” she whispered. "Where are you?"

Dean rattled off the address and kept asking her what the hell was going on. Faith refused to tell him over the phone, instead saying that she'd be there soon. She hung up, packed a duffel, and snuck out of the house. She left her dad a note, an apology, for leaving and just said she needed some time and that she'd be back in a couple days. She promised she was going to train and be all that she could be before climbing out her window. She knew he'd hear the car start as soon as she hotwired it and sure enough when she was half way down the driveway he was out the door. She winced, remembering she'd taken the tires off of all his running cars, and knew she was in for a verbal lashing when she got back. She ignored her ringing phone, knowing he'd find the note, and made her way toward Nebraska.

She'd eventually figure out that going there would be a huge mistake.
.
.
.
TBC…




A few pics to go along with the fic!!!


Illustration

Illustration

The End?

You have reached the end of "The Family Business" – so far. This story is incomplete and the last chapter was posted on 12 Feb 12.

StoryReviewsStatisticsRelated StoriesTracking