Return of the Prodigal Slayer: Blast From the Past
by Hose Jockey 20
Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I make no money. All hail Joss and his band of mutants.
Spoilers: None.
Author's Notes: I started to write this during a 24-hour shift at San Bernardino County Fire Station 20, intending it to be a harmless bullshit story. Then I kinda had a life-altering experience, and my gears shifted. If you're faint-hearted, I advise you not to read this. By the way, paragraphs in italics denote flashbacks.
Thanks: All the people who read my stuff and gave feedback. You know who you are.
Dedication: To Tiffany, who actually lived part of this. I love you even more for having the will and the strength to survive.
Feedback: Please!

"Damn, it's hot."

"Hey, you wanted to do somethin', B."

The two were strolling down U.S. Route 66, known locally as Foothill Boulevard, in Fontana, California. They were there to see an old friend of Faith's, one she hadn't seen in almost three years.

They turned north on Citrus Ave., and could see the American and Californian flags waving from Jase's workplace. They crossed the street, jaywalking as they normally did in Sunnydale. Unfortunately, the rush-hour traffic in Sunnydale was nothing compared to that in Fontana. Buffy made it across the street okay, but Faith wasn't so fortunate. She was blindsided by a speeding Chevrolet Camaro, and thrown 10 feet. She lost consciousness seconds later.

*****

"--- okay?"

"Huh?" Faith woke up to find herself in one of her most hated places: a hospital.

"I asked 'Are you okay?'" replied Buffy.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just got a wicked headache. Where the hell am I?"

"Arrowhead Regional Medical Center. One of the Inland Empire's finest body-and-fender shops," boomed a familiar voice.

Faith looked over to the door, and saw a man in a blue work shirt, red suspenders, and painfully bright yellow pants standing there. He had a pair of single silver bugles on the collar points of his shirt. He was tall, thin and muscular, with his dark brown hair cut in a Marine-style fade, a thick black moustache, deep brown eyes that were twinkling, and a faint Bostonian accent.

"So, they finally made you lieutenant, huh?" asked Faith.

"Yeah, they dragged me kicking and screaming into the captain's office, where they pinned these damned things on me," replied Lieutenant Jason Makusztak, jokingly. "And they even took my nice yellow helmet and replaced it with an ugly red one."

He had known the former rogue Slayer since elementary school. When they hit junior high, they gave dating a shot. When they realized that they made better friends than lovers, Jase and Faith quickly abandoned the going out idea and became best friends. He was the only reason Faith regretted leaving back east.

"So what are you doing here?" asked the brunette.

"Well, my engine company was first on scene, so in all actuality, I probably saved your ass---"

"Not for the first time, if I remember right," Faith interjected.

"True, true. So we get on scene, and I clean your head wound up. Then they made me of all people do the secondary survey."

"What's that?" she asked.

"I kinda had to cut your clothes off and make sure you were okay everywhere else."

"I'll bet you enjoyed that," joked Faith, smiling.

"Not as much as I woulda back when, I'll tell ya that much. Had it been any other circumstance, well...." He shrugged his shoulders and chuckled. "So anyway, you're good to go, except for the fact that you're bleeding like a stuck pig from your head and you're out colder 'n last week's beans. My crew packages you up for transport, and finally the ambulance arrives. AMR can be so damned slow, man," he complained.

"AMR?" asked Faith quizzically.

"American Medical Response, the ambulance company we contract out to. So they get on scene, and I convince the paramedic that he needs help in the back of the wagon."

"The what?" asked Buffy, not really sure who this guy was. It was obvious that he knew Faith, but she hadn't connected the dots yet.

"The meat wagon, B. Slang for ambulance," replied Faith.

"Yup, that be the contraption I mean. So I convince the medic that he needs help, and tell the captain what's going on. The guy from AMR and I went to medic school together, so when I tell him about us, he was more than happy to let me ride here with him." He looked at Buffy and said, "I'm sorry you couldn't ride here with us, but AMR just adopted these new dumbass rules. But I think the transportation I procured for you was more than adequate." Buffy had ridden to the hospital in Jase's seat on the fire engine.

"It was, thanks," she replied.

"I woulda gotten you on an airship," he continued "but Mercy Air's choppers were all busy elsewhere. And besides, you were pretty stable at the time. So both the Band-Aid box and the engine roll here with lights and sirens, and I talk the doc into letting me know when you get a room. And I've been here with my crew ever since," he finishes.

"Does anybody mind telling me who fire-boy here is?" asked a confused older Slayer.

"Oops, sorry," said Jase. "Name's Jason Makusztak. I'm a lieutenant with the San Bernardino County Fire Department, currently the paramedic assigned to Medic Engine 78, which covers northern Fontana. I've known Faith here since we were mere kiddies in Beantown. Then we moved to New York, briefly. She took off out here, and somehow I ended up with a job in County Fire. But we always seemed to keep in touch. So one thing leads to another, and Fate puts me right here, right now for this little reunion," he concludes.

"Yeah, J here was the only reason I survived my life in ... well, yeah," said Faith. She still hadn't told Buffy about her childhood.

"Yeah." Jase turned away, cheeks slightly reddened.

"Jeez, J. It's not like all that is a mystery to you. You did save my life, you know," said the younger Slayer.

"Yeah, well... you must be Buffy." Jason switched gears, clearly uncomfortable.

"That's me," replied the blonde.

"Faith has told me a lot about you, and what you guys do. Vampires 'n shit, that's insane."

"Well, somebody's gotta do it."

"Funny, cuz I say the same thing myself, when people ask me why the hell I run into burning buildings."

"Oh? What else has she told you?" asked Buffy curiously.

"She told me all about you two, your relationship and all that."

"She has?" asked a flabbergasted Buffy.

"Da. Hey, I think it's cool, y'know? Long as you two are happy, then go for it."

"Trust me, J, we are," said Faith, taking Buffy's hand. "At least I know I am."

"Then rock on," he said.

Faith turned to Buffy. "J's one of the few straight firemen who openly accepts gays. The way I hear it, he's acquired quite a rep in the fire service. Matter of fact, he was given an award by some gay-rights group for his public support."

"Here's the way I see it," he started to explain. "Love is a very important emotion, and if you must search within your own gender to find it, then so be it. Who the hell am I to denounce somebody for being in love?" At that point, Jase's pager sounded. "Damn, guess I gotta roll," he said after looking at it. "Structure fire downtown. Faith, take it easy," he said as he hugged her. "Buffy, nice meeting you. Hey, swing by the station when Faith's healed and I'll put you two on our engine and truck for a ride-along. Okay, later."

"Later, J. Take care," said Faith as Jase ran out the hospital room door. He sprinted down the hallway, out the hospital's main entrance and jumped into the fire engine still sitting outside. Buffy stood and walked over to the window and watched as ME-78 screamed down the road, lights flashing, and siren wailing.

"So what did you think of him?" asked Faith from her bed.

"Interesting," replied Buffy as she made her way over to the chair she had placed next to Faith.

After a few minutes' silence, Faith finally spoke.

"So, I guess it's time for the story 'bout my past, eh?"

"Look, Faith, you don't---"

"Yeah, I do. I love you, B, and you deserve to know who I am. Who I was."

"If you don't wanna do this, Faith---"

"I don't, but I have to. Seein' J again is helpin' me to realize that there are other people besides you in the world that actually care about me, ya know? It feels kinda good, actually."

"I think it's called love, Faith," said Buffy.

"God, where do I start?" mused the younger.

"From the start, babe," replied the older, taking Faith's hand.

"My parents were people I despised," she began after another period of silence. "My dad especially. It used to be that when he came home every night, he got drunk. And then the shit would hit the fan..."

Faith was in the kitchen, cooking dinner. Her parents were passed out, drunk at the table, a nearly empty bottle of Jack Daniel's whiskey between them. The bottle had been full when they started drinking it, two hours ago. Her father stirred.

"Where the fuck is my dinner?" he slurred.

Faith, only 13 years old at the time, was terrified.

"On-on the stove, Daddy. I-I'm cooking it," she managed to stammer.

"God damn it, girl!" he raged. "You fucking well know I want my dinner done when I wake up! Get over here, you little slut!"

Trembling, Faith made her way over to where her father now stood, taking his belt off. She looked over to her mother for the help that she knew she would never get, but Christine Adams was still unconscious.

"Didn't I tell you to get the fuck over here!" her father exploded, grabbing her by her hair and dragging he into the living room. "Take your shirt off," he commanded. "NOW!"

She obeyed, numbing her body to the pain that was inevitably coming. All that covered her bruised and battered upper body was a small bra.

"Take it off," her father ordered. Again, she complied. With shocking quickness, her father brought the belt he was holding sideways across her chest, instantly leaving an ugly red welt. The beating lasted for several minutes, until Jake Adams finally tired of his "game." He stumbled back into the kitchen, emptied the rest of the bottle of whiskey, and passed out again.

Badly beaten, Faith gathered her clothes back up, using her shirt to try to stop her bleeding nose. She went back to the kitchen, and started to cook again, knowing that the scene would repeat itself again and again, until she was done.

"Oh my God," mumbled Buffy. "Did-did that happen often?"

"All the time," came the response.

"B-but didn't you report him?"

Faith slowly shook her head, tears welling up because of the painful memories she was bringing up. She suddenly smiled.

"But there was this one time, I think I was 16 or so, when Jason rescued me. That was the last time I ever saw my father."

The daily beating session was in full swing. As usual, Faith was totally nude, getting beat every place on her body by her drunken dad.

"Daddy," she whimpered as he lashed the back of her legs.

"Did I tell you to talk, you little whore!" Jake yelled. "Kneel!" he commanded. Faith did so. He kicked her square in the mouth, hard enough for her to start bleeding.

"Now get up!" he growled. He attacked her upper torso, this time harder. All of a sudden, there was a knock at the door. It was Jason's characteristic knock, and Faith was grateful. Jake, however, was pissed. He started ranting and raving, cursing Faith out, and beating her again, only harder.

Outside, Jase heard the commotion inside. He carried a rose for Faith, and decided to peek in the window. That was all it took. Enraged, the future firefighter kicked the front door down and launched himself at Jake Adams. Had Faith's dad been even semi-sober, it would have been an even match; Jake's sheer size versus Jase's quickness and strength. However, in his impaired state, the large man couldn't move quick enough to block the barrage of punches by his assailant.

"You-mother-fucking-son-of-a-BITCH!" Jason exploded, landing a kick in Jake's groin. The old man doubled over in pain, it being even worse because of the thick leather work boots Jase often wore. That gave Jase the chance to end the fight. He did, landing a solid uppercut with all his might, sending Jake flying into the wall, and knocking him out.

Grabbing a sheet from the couch, the young man covered a still-dazed Faith, and carried her upstairs to her room. He gently set her down on her bed, and cleaned her injuries with the first-aid pack he always carried around.

"You okay, Faith?" he asked, looking into her eyes, rage building up again at the creature who would dare do this to his Faith.

"I-I..." she trailed off, still shaken by what had just happened. Was that her dad that had just received such an awesome beating? The man she's always been petrified of? The invincible big drunk?

"Yeah, I think I'm okay, Jase," she finally said.

"Good." He hunted around, found some clean clothes, and gave them to her. "The real medical shit is gonna have to wait 'till we get to the house. I'm gonna have to do a more thorough exam there, to make sure you're really okay all over. Here, put these things on while I pack your stuff up."

"Huh? Why?" she asked.

"'Cause you're moving to New York with us, that's why. I was on my way here to tell you that I'm gonna be leaving soon, but after what just happened, I will not let you stay here and get hurt again. Anything that you really want to take along?" he asked, stuffing her clothes in a duffel bag he found.

"Uh..." she didn't finish. Things were just going way too fast for her. Thinking, she decided that she wanted only one thing from her room. Trevor, the stuffed lion Jase had given her a year ago when the two of them went to a carnival together. She wanted to name it Jason, because he had "the courage of a lion, but the kindness of a puppy dog," but he objected, saying he wasn't all that special. Recent events had just proved that wrong. So they finally made a compromise, naming it Trevor, after another courageous individual they both knew on the Internet. Even though he wasn't a firefighter, he embodied all the traits: courage, honor, duty, and compassion.

"Hurry up, get dressed. We don't have much time." The duffel was half full, and her chest of drawers was empty. She put her clothes on while Jase averted his eyes, busying himself with packing what few books she owned. Mostly William Shakespeare's works, he noted.

"J?" she said.

"Yeah?" he answered.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it, babe," he replied, stuffing her CD case in the bag. For good measure, he put her boombox in, too. The bag was nearly full.

"Anything else you want?" he asked.

She looked around at the rest of her belongings, knowing that she would never see most of it again. She grabbed her photo albums from her desk, the fire department patches that Jason had given her, and plucked Trevor from his position guarding her bed.

"Let's go," she said.

They started down the staircase, when Faith realized she had forgotten a few things.

"Oh, shit, I'll be right back," she told Jase.

"What's the matter?" he asked, instantly alarmed.

"Nothing. Just forgot a few things, that's all," she replied.

"Oh, okay. I'll be right here if you need me."

"Don't worry." She went back into her room and grabbed three things off her desk: the cross necklace she always wore, Jase's class ring he asked her to wear, and a picture of the two of them together on the love boat ride at the carnival. She retrieved them, and went out and rejoined Jase at the staircase.

"Whatcha got there?" he asked. She showed him all three before putting the picture in the duffel and putting the necklace and ring on.

"Now we can go," she said. They resumed walking back down the staircase. When they reached bottom, Jase insisted on preceding her, intending on intercepting any attack. None came. He looked into the living room, and saw Jake's battered body still lying unconscious against the wall. Just to be sure, Jase went over and took his pulse, using rubber gloves because he didn't want to touch this monster's bare skin. It was there, but faint. Too bad, really, but Jase was not going to be the one to make it stop beating. Faith decided to take one last look around the house; the tattered drapes, the torn furniture, the broken appliances, the empty refrigerator, her unconscious parents.

Her mother, who had been as abusive as her husband had been when she was awake. And her father, whom she had always feared. Now she looked upon the both of them with contempt. One was out cold because of sheer stupidity, the other out because of a beating administered by her best friend.

They walked outside, and Jase picked up the rose he had brought, dusted it off, and handed it to Faith, looking shy. Faith accepted it, flinging her arms around him in thanks.

"See? Courageous as a lion, kind as a puppy dog," she said, holding the rose. They reached the end of the walk, and Faith took one last look at her home for the past 16 years. It was a house of pain, heartache, and misery. She left, vowing never to return.

"So what finally happened?" asked her girlfriend.

"J did his thorough exam when we got to his house, and told me that a few more shots woulda busted my ribs. The kick to my face loosened my teeth, so his parents took me to my dentist and got 'em fixed. We moved to New York, and got a pretty nice place in the Bronx. Then I got called by the Council and I ended up in good old Sunnydale."

"And your parents?" Buffy hated herself for asking, but her curiosity made her.

"'Bout a month after I landed in Sunnydale, J sent me a newspaper clipping from the New York Times. Apparently after I left home, my dad got so pissed that he strangled my mom. They arrested him, he confessed to killing her and beating me, and got convicted. He got life in prison, no parole."

"Good." The older seemed satisfied, however, the younger was still troubled. "What's the matter?" Buffy asked.

"It said in the paper that he killed my mom. He got thrown in the clink. So what happened to all our shit?" she asked rhetorically.

"I'd think it would go to next of kin, if there was any," replied Buffy. "Why?"

"There's a few things I never thought to take," Faith answered. "There was a secret compartment in my closet. I doubt if anyone knew it was there."

"What'd you put in it?"

"A few, seemingly unimportant things. At least, I thought they were at the time."

"Like...?"

"My life," Faith said simply. "All my ID papers. Birth certificate, Social Security card, the works. I didn't think my parents would be able to take care of that stuff, so I hid it."

"So... we got a trip to make, it seems." It wasn't a question.

"Yup. Hey, think J's gonna wanna go?"

"Maybe. Is that what you want?"

"Yeah. It'll be like old times, ya know?"

"Then we'll all go."

"Sounds good to me. When do we leave?"

*****

Faith was discharged from the hospital the next day, almost fully healed. The doctors said that it was a miracle, but the two Slayers knew better.

They stopped by Station 78 to see Jase, and to go on that ride-along he had promised them. The whole crew remembered the pair, and formal introductions were finally made. Special attention was made to Josh Lee, the engineer for ME-78, and Michael Anderson, engineer for Truck 78. They were Jase's two best friends on the crew. And Faith finally got to meet Captain Vern Matthews, Jase's mentor. But he was less than pleased when he found out that Jase had to go to Boston for a week. He quickly got over it, though, when he was promised a pound of salami from his favorite deli in New York.

The Slayers had fun on their ride-along, responding to three fires, two car crashes, and five medical aid calls, including a heart attack, where they got to see Jase bring an elderly lady back to life. They quickly learned why Jase loved his job so much, as the adrenaline rush they got riding in the fire engine with lights and sirens surpassed the rush they got when slaying or fighting. They left the station the next morning, bearing gifts from the firefighters. They each got a County Fire tee shirt, a County Fire patch, a County Fire ball cap, and a really special gift: they both got an out of service structural firefighting helmet, each personalized and autographed by the whole crew. Faith was lucky enough to get Jase's red officer's helmet that he broke the other day when a roof collapsed on him, and Buffy got Josh's second engineer's helmet, which cracked when he got hit in the head by a flying rock on a rope rescue call. The Slayers decided to meet with Jase next week, to make the trip back East.

*****

All three met for their flight at Los Angeles International Airport; Jase driving the customized Camaro he donated to the station (He had it painted fire-engine red, and then had a red lightbar mounted on top. It was christened Rescue 78, after the rescue engines in New York), and the girls being picked up by a car he sent for them. They flew Delta, first-class. Money was no object because of Jase's $70,000 a year paycheck and because of his family wealth.

"Damn, I hate flying," complained Faith. The long wait at the security checkpoints didn't help ease her tension. However, they got through a bit quicker than most because of Jase's badge and military ID. He was still a reservist in the Marine Corps.

"Don't be such a wuss," replied Buffy, taking Faith's hand. The former rogue immediately relaxed. Jase was oblivious to the two, immersed in the latest edition of Firehouse magazine. He was currently drooling over a brand-new custom type-I engine, built by Seagrave and painted in Fire Department of New York colors.

Faith's grip on the seat tightened when the plane picked up speed and was finally in the air. It was partly due to fear of flying, and partly due to apprehension at the task at hand. She was going home.

...continued in The Triumphant Return...