content warnings for violence and incest-y themes
unbeta'd
spanish translations in the bottom.
racebent versions of Derek (Alex Meraz) and Laura (Stephanie Sigman)
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"Perdóname," Derek whispers, head bowed, neck exposed. He is kneeling on the dirty motel carpet, the rough fibers digging into his fists and knees. It isn't painful, but he feels like it should be.
He deserves to be hurt, to be in pain. Wants Laura to strike him with the combined fury of her fear and sorrow. Wants to feel her claws on his skin, tearing away the worthless flesh from his body.
But his sister doesn't deign him a glance, chooses instead to stare blankly at the wall—the peeling paint, the smoke stains that have seeped into the very foundation of the building—jaw clenched as tightly as the knots in Derek's stomach.
Derek is dead to her. This is what he fears the most, to have lost it all in the fire. Including Laura who was untouched by the flames that took their home, but would be lost to him regardless.
"Te suplico, hermana. Perdóname." His voice cracks. He is all but sixteen years old, a teenager. A motherless child.
There is a hole in his body and he wants to fill it up with her. Look at me. Mírame. Dime que no estoy solo. Que no me has abandonado.
"Perdóname, Laura. Perdóname." Each word is punctuated with a kiss. Her knuckles, the inside of her wrists... he cradles her hand against his wet cheek, nuzzling against her cold, claw-tipped fingers.
Laura shakes in his grasp. Derek lets out a shuddering breath. Part of him expects her to maul him across the face, make him bleed for the pack he helped kill.
The rest of him hopes for it desperately.
"Por favor, hermana." The tips of her claws press dangerously into his skin. Nowhere near enough to break it, but enough to give the idea.
Enough to make him want to beg.
Laura shoves Derek away from her, kicks him in the sternum with the heel of her Doc Martens. He slams against the wall with a drawn out hiss, the violent movement rolling his shirt up and leaving raw friction burns where he slid against the carpet.
He arches his back and whines pitifully, unsure if it was out of pain or due to the fact that it was the first time Laura had voluntarily touched him in weeks.
She still refuses to look at him. Derek closes his eyes briefly before crawling back to where Laura sat at the foot of the bed, eyes closed and trembling. Seeing her like that reminded him of how young she was—of how young they both were.
She dug her claws into the bedspread, her long thin fingers tearing through the cloth. It would have been easy for her. Easier than breathing, even.
Derek pulled Laura's feet onto his lap, disentangling the laces and slipping off the boots one by one. He lays his cheek against the right foot, inhaling the smell deeply. It's been a long time since he's absorbed her scent this way.
Before the fire, he thinks. Maybe months before. Maybe longer. He still remembers how he used to lay in her unmade bed, sheets and dirty laundry ripe with her smell. He could lie there for hours, just breathing; her scent wrapping around him like a warm and fragrant caress.
His own scent has always been off, lacking something vital that he needed to feel whole. Lucia, his mother, had provided it at first, then Laura, and later on Kate... but Kate's musky perfume had faded into woodsmoke and ashes and he for days now he couldn't smell anything else.
Except now. Except for Laura.
All he wants to do is roll in her scent, lose himself in it. Lose his self in it. In her.
Disappear into the ether and become a part of her, an extension of her being and will. She can't leave me then, he thinks.
His body is little more than a plaintive wail as he kisses the inside of her foot with all the reverence his body can muster.
Perdóname, Laura. Please, forgive me. Please. Perdóname...
Derek's lips have made it to her ankle when he smells the tears in her eyes. He can taste the change in her scent at the tip of his tongue and he kisses her. Again and again he kisses her. Up her calf and over the worn fabric of her denim jeans until Laura's gasping as his lips reach the delicate part of her inner knee, an intimacy that Laura didn't grant anyone. She grasps desperately at anything she can grab hold of: the soft cotton of his shirt, the wiry muscles of his shoulders, his short black hair.
"I love you, Laura. Please don't leave me. No me dejes solo."
Her breathing is rough and wet as Derek buries his face in her lap, wrapping his arms around her legs. He kisses her thighs through the denim that tastes like his tears. She cries out like she's dying, like her body is being rent in two, and stabs into him with short, blunt nails.
He relishes the pain.
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translations:
* Perdóname = Forgive me.
* Te suplico, hermana. Perdóname. = I beg you, sister. Forgive me.
* Mírame. Dime que no estoy solo. Que no me has abandonado. = Look at me. Tell me that I am not alone. That you have not abandoned me.
* Por favor, hermana. = Please, sister.
* No me dejes solo = Don't leave me alone
