- Work in Progress
- Violence - Canon-Level
- Alternate Universe
- Rule 63
Faith Lehane looked over at the girl in the passengers seat of the Trans Am, she had been sleeping soundly since they had left the San Fran Airport. Transcendental flights always wore her sister out. Faith sighed wondering once more why she was doing this. Sometimes Faith cursed the day she rolled into Sunnydale back when she was barely fifteen, with a chip on her shoulder and something to prove to the world. Now that Faith thinks about it, she knew how wrong it could have gone for her if she hadn’t met Xander Harris.
Xander had been possessed by a Primal Goddess-Who knew those were a things?-Xander had slowly merged with the Primal goddess over the years since Sunnydale’s destruction. Xander’s fate was not one Faith would wish on her worst enemies. Eternal youth and practical immortality, being trapped as an eighteen year old forever had to truly be the worst thing ever!
Faith was grateful to Xander Harris because she had been thee first real friend, Faith had made in years. Xander’s mother, Jessica, had forced Faith out of the flea bag motel she had been staying in and took Faith into her home. Jessica and her husband, Rupert Giles became the parents Faith didn’t know she needed. Faith’s own had disappeared when she was thirteen years old. It was from them and a group of teenagers trying to beat back the armies of darkness that Faith learned what family and true friendship was about.
Faith should have known not to marry Dean Winchester, not when his own brother had warned her off from the man. Faith had known she and Dean were far too like but to come home one night after patrol to find her husband in bed-their bed- with Buffy Goddamn Summers! If it had been that angel of Dean’s or one of the other slayers she wouldn’t have been as angry about it. But…even with all the therapy Faith had over the years her resentment that Buffy Summers was something that Faith couldn’t shake. Coming home to her husband of five years fucking the woman? Hadn’t helped it. Needless to say Faith divorced Dean’s ass so hard. He may have gotten all the weapons, she though kept all of their friends…except for Buffy. Her? Faith let him have.
Faith was almost thirty years old. She should have more than countless slayings of vampires and demons, six apocalypses and a divorce under her belt by now.
Faith glanced over to Xander once more as the girl began to stir. She wished Xander would sleep longer. Sometimes Faith wondered how Xander functions on the sleep she did get. Which wasn’t a lot, now that Faith thought about it. Faith knew Xander’s nightmares kept her awake more times than not. Xander had, had nightmares for as long as Faith had known the girl. Some were about the battles they had faced in Sunnydale, others the betrayals they had faced or the death of past lovers and friends.
Xander blinked open her eyes slowly, before she stretched, “Are we–“she yawned widely, “there yet?”
“Almost to the city limits.” Faith told her, as they passed a ‘Welcome to Beacon Hills’ sign.
Faith on some advice from her adopted mother, Jessica, decided she need a new start. Something way from Dean and the supernatural shit for a while. Xander had been bored and came with her. Faith had thrown a knife at a map and it landed on Beacon Hills. A small Californian town on the edge for a government nature preserve…that had a disturbingly accounts of animal attacks and a high body count. At least it won’t be boring, Faith thought.
“Stop the car, Faith.”
“Stop the car.” Xander repeated, “Now!”
Faith slammed on the breaks of the Trans Am. Xander quickly undid her seatbelt and got out of the car, Faith followed. “Xander?” She watched as Xander looked around the dark thick woods, and up at the night sky confused.
“Can’t you feel that?” Xander whispered, almost fearfully, yet strangely hopeful.
“Faith!” Xander hissed. Faith glared at her, but closed her eyes and took a deep breath of the night air as she opened her Slayer senses. The stillness of the night was a pleasant feeling, the breeze cool against the skin of her face, ruffling through her own dark wavy hair. Then she felt it…darkness oozing up out of the land, hanging heavy in air causing her to gasp in surprise opening her eyes. She looked at Xander, “It-it fe-feels like…”
Xander shook her head, “I’ve been in many places since the Hellmouth’s destruction in my travels, Faith. Places soaked in blood, and hate…place were Hellmouths were born and lay lines crossed pulsing with uncheck power. But I’ve only ever been to one place that felt as dark as this place does…”
“Where?” Faith asked, though she was sure she knew, she just had to hear it said aloud.
Xander looked at Faith with unshed tears in her eyes, “It feels like home, Faith. Like Sunnydale did.”
“…You did what?” Derek Hale growled at his uncle, Peter, as he paced the floor of his loft apartment.
“I rented the other livable apartment out.” Peter told him, carrying a pitcher of sweet tea to the table covered with old books where Stiles Stilinski and Lydia Martin where sitting, Lydia writing in a spiral notebook, Stiles on his lap top.
“Why?” Derek shook his head, “No better question: to who?”
“For an old friend,” Peter said setting down the pitcher, “you remember my old mentor, Ethan Rayne?”
“I remember Mom didn’t like him,” Derek muttered, Ethan Rayne had made Talia Hale uncomfortable but she had never said why. But she had adored the woman who had been one of the man’s lovers.
“He asked a me for a favor, his lover’s daughters need a place to stay. One of them just got through an ugly divorce. And the other normal teenage stuff, possible gang related,” Peter frowned, “Ethan was kind of vague on the details.”
“Why didn’t you ask me, first?”
Peter raised an eyebrow, “Have you forgotten that I own the building, Derek?”
“Say what now?” Stiles asked popping up from behind his laptop screen, almost knocking over the pitcher which was saved by Derek’s fast reflexes.
Derek glared at him, righting the pitcher, “Why are you two even here?”
“Researching.” Lydia said, flatly.
“Why? It’s been quiet this summer.” Derek said, after the dust storm with the Kandima had settled down, and a tenitive trust with the remaining Argents, Chris and Allison had been come too with Stiles and Lydia doing most of the talking…the Alpha pack and the Darach had ended with the Alpha pack either running from or dying at the hands of said Darach, who died by Peter’s. Luckily no one from the pack had been harmed. Allison and Aiden survived the wounds they received from the Oni, who were being led by the Nogitsune. They had gained Kira Yukimura and Malia Tate during this time as pack members. Otherwise…things were calm once more in Beacon Hills.
A hard, serious expression crossed Stiles face, “We have to be ready for what is coming.”
“What’s coming?” Derek asked softly, unsurely.
“Winter, Derek,” Lydia said smugly, “Winter is coming.”
At the confused looked that crossed Derek’s face. Stiles and Lydia began to laugh as Peter snickered. “What? What’s coming?”
“A need to learn about pop-culture.” Stiles snarked..
“Funny,” Derek said, stiffly. It wasn’t the first time he had been the but of a pop-culture joke. “Pizza?” He asked walking over to the phone.