Chapter1:
The boy who survived
Christopher Argent had seen many things in his life. Many horrible things which would leave any other man with nightmares hunting him. Yet all of them combined were nothing compared to that memory from the night nearly 12 years ago. He could still see it whenever he closed his eyes. That was all it took. To close his eyes.
When he did that, he found himself standing in the hall of that house once more. A bloodied machete in his hand, a corpse of a werewolf at his feet and another body of a young woman just a two meters away. She was a nurse judging from her clothes. With long ebony hairs she laid in the pool of blood still, her throat slashed open and chest not moving.
Sobs and cries were echoing throughout the house coming from a little boy laying next to the headless monster. Those sounds were strong enough to shake the conscience of a fearless hunter. He was late to safe the boy's mother and he was late to safe the boy. The blood soaking through his shirt was a clear sign. The boy was bitten. There was nothing he could do for him now. Only one thing. He could put him out of his misery.
The child was young and weak. There was no chance the bite wouldn't kill him. And even if by some miracle he would survive, he would never be able to live a normal life. He would surely once become the same monster that killed his mother. He could save him from such a destiny.
Chris pulled out his gun and aimed it at the boys head. One clean shot and it all would be over for the poor thing. Yet he struggled with himself to pull the trigger, his hand not moving on command.
How could he possibly do it? How could he kill a child? He couldn't be older than his own daughter. They might have been friends in the kindergarten. If nothing of that happened that night, they might have gone to the same school, to the same class and maybe, maybe once he would find them kissing, hiding in the garage or behind some bushes in front of their house.
He struggled and fought and in the end he found the lost courage to do what was right. But when he was ready to pull the trigger, the boy spoke.
"Mommy?!" he cried in pain and fear and not seeing the man standing above him deciding to end his life he began to move, to crawl to his dead mother.
"Mommy, wake up! Please, wake up. It hurts! Mommy, mommy it hurts so much," he sobbed and shook the woman's shoulder when he was by her side, not realizing his mother was no longer with him.
"Mommy, mommy, wake up! Do a little magic spell. Let the pain go away. Mommy, please! Why don't you wake up?"
The cries of that child hurt Chris more than any werewolf' claws in his life. His hand started shaking and after a while, he put the gun away. He took a few steps and sat on the ground next to the boy, grabbing him by his hand and pulling him into a hug.
"Shh, shh, it's alright my boy," he spoke silently swaying himself a little comforting the child not allowing him to lay his eyes on the corpses of his mother and that werewolf.
"Your mother is just really tired. She needs to sleep now. Don't worry. Everything will be alright," he promised to him with his throat completely dry.
He knew nothing will ever be alright for the boy. His mother will never wake, but he might see her sooner than anybody would like.
Chris was sitting there holding the boy for few minutes when he suddenly stopped moving. So, his suffering ended, he thought to himself but when he looked at the child in his hands he realized he was not dead. The child was sound asleep with the tears trickling down from his eyes and snots from his nose. Yet he looked at peace. Chris hold him tight to his chest and got on his feet. He took the boy carrying him out of the house and to the car. He laid him down on the backseat caressing his hairs as he would do to his own son. That is if he had one. He closed the door and sat himself at the drivers seat not yet starting the car but taking out his phone. He dialed a number and pushed the phone against his ear pinning it here with his shoulder and searching for the car keys.
"Joe, I need a favor," he said instead of 'hello' after the call connected.
He started the car and drove away from the house.
"I need you to clean after me. No, no, Joe, listen to me! I know you are not my sidekick, but I-I just can't, okay? Vicky wants to move out of town tomorrow and... and I have a hurt boy in my car, I have to take care of him. And you owe me. Remember that wolf in Pasadena? Yeah, yeah, great, thanks. I will text you the address. Bye Joe," he ended the call throwing the phone at the seat next to him and looking behind his shoulder at the boy for a second. He seemed calm and content.
It took him about half an hour to get to his house. He was thinking about taking the boy to the hospital, but he knew the doctors wouldn't be able to help him. He parked the car and get off it in time to see the front door opening and the figure of his wife rushing toward to him.
"Vicky," he smiled sadly at Victoria letting her hug him.
He embraced her and planned a kiss on her brow before pushing her back.
"Is Allison in her bed?"
"Sleeping like a log," Victoria Argent nodded before taking his head into her hands gently tracking down a small wound caused by werewolf's claws.
"You were hurt," she said, worry in her voice.
"It's nothing serious. He is in much worse condition," he pointed at the boy in the car.
The huntress would never notice the skinny boy on the backseat if her husband didn't point out at him. Without another word she opened the car door and placed the palm of her hand at the boy's forehead.
"He is burning up," she said softly and observed the injury beneath the bloodied shirt.
"It doesn't look good. Take him to our bedroom," she ordered her husband jumping off his way and opening the doors for him, leading him through their house and between the half-packed boxes for moving toward the room. She was careful to lead the way so Chris wouldn't trip and fall with the boy in his hands. They were prepared to move from Beacon Hills to Plymouth in the next couple of days so the boxes were scattered everywhere.
After successfully reaching the bedroom Chris placed the boy on the bed and Victoria brought the aid kit and some towels with the bowl of water from bathroom. Very carefully she took of the boys shirt and took a better look at his injury. Taking the towel and soaking it into the water she started to cleaning the wound treating it the best she could. The boy didn't wake up which she was grateful for. It would make her job much more difficult if he was conscious.
"The bite?" she asked after the wound was treated and she covered the boy's delicate little body with the duvet.
Chris didn't need her wife to specify her question, yet he kept quiet. But for Victoria it spoke volumes.
"Oh, Chris," she looked at him with half-sad, half-angry but in overall sympathetic look.
"What was I to do, Vicky? Shoot him? Kill a little boy? Look at him! He is about age of Allison."
The huntress sighed before answering trying to find the way how to put some sense into her husband's head.
"And what will we do with him now, hm? What about his parents?"
"His mother is dead. His father... God knows. I heard he was a drunk and his mother kicked him out. He left the town. I don't know about any relatives living here."
The hunter knew his wife wasn't really concerned about the boy's family. She didn't really care about his answers either. But he did everything in his power to ignore that slightly annoyed and highly concerned face of hers.
"I know. I know. But..." a sigh escaped his lips before continuing, "can we just make him comfortable for the time? He is young. Too young. There is no way he will survive the bite from an alfa. I just wish for him to go in peace, feeling safe and warm. Maybe in the sleep. There is nothing more peaceful than death in the sleep. And by that I don't mean to smother him with a pillow. The bite will kill him, so just let him die here. In the comfortable bed."
Victoria bit her lip holding her thoughts about not wanting someone to die in the bed she is sleeping in every day and gave Chris a little nod of acceptance. She placed the back of her hand on the boy's cheek and found out the boy had still a fewer. She soaked another towel and placed it on his forehead before gently caressing his cheek again.
"Go to sleep. I'm afraid you will have to make do with a couch."
Her words sounded like an order and Chris was sure they were exactly that.
"But the boy..." he tried to protest but was cut of by his wife.
"I will stay with him. Make him comfortable, like you said. But I will not let him suffer. When he wakes up and that pain will be too much for him to handle then I will end his suffering. With a bullet."
She was rewarded with a stare and a kiss a silent 'goodnight' before her husband disappeared in the darkness behind the door. She caressed the little boy once more and decided to stand up and tidy the mess she made with the first aid kit. But she didn't have a chance to do so as the little child's hand squeezed her fingers refusing to let her go.
"Mommy?" the boy sobbed in his sleep and Victoria felt her heart melt.
She pushed the kit aside and laid down next to the child. As more sobs and cries came through the mouth of a still sleeping child she placed her hand around his little body carefully and protectively and started to hum.
"Sleep, sleep, little one,
sleep, sleep, little one,
sleep, sleep, little one,
Now go to sleep,
now go to sleep.
Sleep, sleep, my silver knight
stars in your eyes shine bright,
I'll put them into your hair,
They'll shine brighter in there.
Sweet smell of flower,
like a kiss of lover,
on night wings you will,
fly to star over a hill.
Sleep, sleep, little dove,
riding a horse you love,
his color is of a crow,
in the night his eyes glow.
Butterfly now falls asleep,
shiny star now is asleep,
little breeze is whispering,
he's flying away 'till spring.
Sleep, sleep, little one,
sleep, sleep, little one,
sleep, sleep, little one,
Now go to sleep,
now go to sleep."
Victoria sang to him until he was once again calmly sleeping. That was all it took. Few sobs, his little fingers holding to hers and a lullaby. That was all it took for Victoria to get attached to the poor boy like he was her own. She removed the wet towel from his forehead and planted a little kiss there.
"If you survive, I will be your mommy, okay?" she whispered into his ear while a single tear escaped from her eye and fell on the child's cheek.
She didn't expect the child to survive the night. Yet he did. The boy survived.
Author's note: If you are interested, the lullaby Victoria is singing is my version of my favorite lullaby from childhood Ho Ho Watanay. Ho Ho Watanay is an Iroquois lullaby if I'm not wrong, and I don't know if it has lyrics in English. I was trying to translate the most of the lyrics (couldn't translate all of it so I changed something) from my language (I'm Slovak) and I hope you like it since I really love this lullaby, it's so beautiful and I wish for you to be able to hear it in its original form (or at least in the form my mom used to sing it to me). If you happen to know of the english version I would love it if you shared.
Let me know what you think about the fic and I would be happy for reviews ^^
