Things to do in Boston when you're (supposed to be) Dead.
Summary: Faith never makes it to Sunnydale, and soon finds herself heading down a far different path as a result of Stryker's attempt to wipe out the mutant population.
Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy or Xmen. They are owned by Joss and Marvel respectively.
Note: X-men, X2 and XMFC apply. The others don't, aside from Liev being Sabretooth.
Events of X-Men and X2 have been pushed back in time a couple years.
Faith is sixteen at the beginning of this fic.
Chapter One: A Mutant Slayer?
Boston, Massachusetts - 1998
"You never even had a chance of winning."
Those eight words repeated on a loop in the mind of the bloodied brunette teenager as she came to, to find herself lying amongst the piles of garbage bags in the alleyway.
A couple moments pass before her eyes snap open and for the briefest of moments, flash yellow… almost catlike, and the girl lets out a gasp of shock as her sudden return to awareness caused the claws that had appeared last night to re-emerge.
She is silent for a couple moments as she stares blankly at her digits and the sharp, bony protrusions coming from the tips, as the events of the previous night come back to her in an almost overwhelming flood.
i*Flash*
She's in the midst of a fight with several of her tormentor Kakistos' minions, including the hated Mr. Trick.
*Flash*
She collapses to her knees as mind numbing pain assaults her mind, almost causing her to black out.
*Flash*
Confusion and pain as the razor sharp claws shoot out of her fingertips, but she is in too much pain to fight the vampires as they take advantage of her disorientation to begin beating and kicking her fallen form.
*Flash*
Feeling herself being dragged to her feet. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she hears someone whisper 'Find the mutants, find them and kill them all'.
*Flash*
She blinks as the pain suddenly ends, and struggles vainly as the vampires haul her to her feet, and hold her in place.
*Flash*
Her eyes widen in pain, shock and horror as Kakistos rushes her with a katana, driving it through her torso, impaling her halfway upon the blade.
*Flash*
Tasting copper in her mouth as the ancient vampire rips the sword out of her, and the flash of silver as he turns and swipes out with a smaller blade, catching her in the throat and slicing open the tender flesh.
*Flash*
Collapsing to a heap on the floor as the vampires holding her immobile shove her to the ground, and her hands clutch at her torn neck.
*Flash*
As she feels life fleeing her, the last thing she hears is Kakistos dismissive order to Mr. Trick to 'dispose of the garbage'. She blacks out, almost relieved at the lack of pain that comes with the oblivion of death.
*Flash*/i
Faith's eyes widen as the memories cease, and her hands both instinctively fly to her previously destroyed throat. To her surprise and relief she finds the flesh unmarred and smooth.
"What the fuck?" she wonders aloud, as she begins to pull herself up out of the garbage pile. Slowly she rises to her feet and mutely brushes the debris off her. As she does so she takes in the state of her clothes, ruined with the stain of her blood from her murder at the hands of the ancient vampire.
She looks down both ways of the alleyway, finding it empty of any life outside herself, and then when she's sure the coast is clear, her gaze falls to her hands in front of her.
For a few moments all Faith focuses on is her hands, her fingertips in particular as she tries to release the claws from them as she'd remembered doing just prior to getting impaled upon Kakistos' blade.
She should be dead. The Bostonian vampire slayer was sure of that more than anything else in the current moment. Slayer healing only went so far, and there was never anything about retractable claws mentioned in the slayer handbook. She also doubted that Kakistos was anything but sure of her demise, or she would never have been allowed such an easy escape.
The thought of the vampire in question serves to spur the young woman into action, and she begins walking away from the spot her 'dead' body had been dumped. She heads for the mouth of the alleyway swiftly, stopping only once to grab a discarded hooded sweatshirt from where it was hanging half out of one of the dumpsters lining the wall of the alley.
Quickly she wraps herself in it, covering up her bloodstained and torn shirt, before departing from the alley and losing herself in the crowds of people that littered the sidewalk by the bus stop.
To Be Continued…