Chapter 1 - A is for Arrival

Faith Lehane rolled down the car window, letting the wind flow across her face; flicking her hair around freely. The weather was brisk and chilly, but she had been driving for a while now and was thankful for the clarity of mind that the crisp air afforded her.

She tapped nervously on the steering wheel, completely out of tune with the hard rock anthem blasting from her car stereo. She was on her way to one of the hardest things she had faced in years… a family reunion.

Being nervous was not something that came naturally tor her. The last eight years had consisted of an assortment of monsters, demons, tyrannical humans and horny adolescents. She also had amassed a variety of much darker memories throughout that period of her life; involving murder, jail time and sheer naivety.

Guilt washed over her as she remembered all those moments; moments where she had failed herself, her friends and even her duties as a slayer. More than anything, she wanted a clean start but had learned all too well that this can't be borne from ignorance. She had decided to tackle her own 'demons' and had made a promise to herself that she would make a clean start; or as clean a start as possible.

This venture had been set in motion a little over four months ago when she had mentioned her family nonchalantly to Dawn, explaining that she had very few living members of her family left.

Dawn had felt genuine sadness for her; knowing just how important a strong and supportive family is. She saw only the benefits of what having a family could mean for Faith, and the experience she could get from that unity; realising that she would never be able to achieve those feelings in any other way. She had decided almost immediately that she would take on the task of resolving this is quickly as possible. Her target was Faith's uncle Stan.

Faith found out later that Dawn had made contact with him and in that initial call, had passed on Faith's contact information.

Within hours Faith received a call from a voice that was rooted somewhere in her distant past, asking her how she'd been. It rendered her speechless, so much so that he had asked twice if anyone was there.

She finally managed to speak, answering eloquently, "Yeah. You?"

Faith suspected that the death of her mother and subsequently her aunt, his wife, had contributed to the lack of contact over the years. Not that he would have been able to make contact anyway; her lifestyle had demanded a level of secrecy and isolation from those that were important to you.

They had kept in contact over the following months and had discussed topics ranging from sports and law enforcement to the period following her mother's death and the failed custody arrangements prior to his wife passing away. He had told her how guilty he felt and how difficult it had been not knowing where or how she was, hindered by the same barriers the Council and she had personally put in place.

After about three months, he asked her if she'd like to come out and visit them. She had reluctantly agreed.

He had made it clear that she could stay as long as she liked and even offered to set up the guest bedroom for her. Although she had already agreed, she still swivelled back and forth numerous times in the last few days prior to leaving; finally making the decision to go mere hours before actually going. Even then, it had taken Dawn kicking her out the door and throwing her bags out after her to make her finally get in the car.

She gave her uncle one last call from her cell, advising him that she was her way. He sounded happy and even excited; so much so that she started to feel excited about the trip too.

Before the end of the call he told her that the guest room was ready for her arrival.

She turned left, passing a large and somewhat weather worn sign for 'Beacon Hills'. She breathed in deeply and glanced down at an address scrawled on the back of an old groceries receipt. It was the address for her uncle's house; an uncle she hadn't seen in years. She thought back to when they had last met and realised that her sixteen year old cousin had only been around five or six at the time. She couldn't remember much about him but she knew he never went by his given name, which was lucky as she had had a hard time pronouncing it when she had been younger; he liked to be called Stiles.