A/N: This took way too long to write. This is also a part of the oneshot series I haphazardly created. Also, any prompts and story suggestions are much welcomed :D
[Disclaimer: I own nothing associated with the Monogatari series. And if I owned Teen Wolf, it would be far better than it is now, more action, more mystery, the Nogitsune would have lasted longer and been more evil, and Allison alive.]
She didn't like this. She hated how the beeping sounds seemed to be mock them, as if each electronic beep counted away the time her baby boy had to live. She frowned at this, running a hand through his mop of dark brown hair, his hair that is just like his father's..
The breathing machine was noisy in the otherwise quiet hospital room, also save for the television playing a Spongebob Squarepants rerun.
The sight of the tubes reaching inside his nose and mouth made her skin crawl even though it was for his health. Her small boy had been born with the inability to properly open his mouth, a rare condition called congenital trismus. To her, it felt like a curse or bad karma coming back for a chunk instead of a bite.
It is nighttime now. She looked over at the little girl laying at the foot of this bed that seemed way too big for the boy. The girl was identical to the boy—his twin sister to be exact. Her mouth was slightly open and snoring, opposed to her brother lying quietly with his tiny hands folded on his stomach which was why the tubes were needed for him in the first place. The girl's head rested on a blanket bundled under her as a makeshift pillow. She snored lightly, already fast asleep.
The child snuggled under the sheets and smiled brightly up at his mother to the best of his ability. He was strong, his mother had to give him that. But still she worried—worried for him, knowing that medical issues ran in his blood.
Hearing him suddenly struggle to breath again didn't help.
. . .
"Mommy... Mommy!" The small girl tugged after her mother's jeans, trailing behind as her mother hurried down the hospital hallway. "I'm hungry. I want a peanut buttuh sammich, can I have one?" She was too young for her pronunciation to be precise; this, however, countered her smarts that proved to be beyond her few years. She clutched a crayon-drawn picture in her tiny hand that fluttered behind at their fast pace.
Beacon Hills Hospital was busy tonight. After the alarming rise in the suddenly injured and mentally shocked, the small, somewhat makeshift family has been waiting far too long than they liked. And now, her daughter had grown hungry...
The young woman reached for her toddler's hand as she continued walking briskly, pausing only to swoop her up into her arms. She was, in fact, younger than many of the mothers here at the hospital and earned her share of appointed looks caused by her daughter's call.
She ignored the several glances received from her daughter's loud question. "Not now, Hana," she shushed.
The small girl huffed, her button nose wrinkling in disappointment—another feature granted from their father.
Now, where is their father, you ask? Well, that's a complicated answer, and the young mother here doesn't exactly know herself. You see, their father...he hasn't been himself lately—there is a difference between where he was physically and where he is mentally. Ever since reluctantly returning to Beacon Hills for help raising the twins, and being ran out from her lover, the young woman knew that the father was, almost no doubtedly, with Scott McCall—Scott was her go-to answer, knowing the two have known each other practically their entire lives. Still, she has heard the stories of where her children's father was mentally, and they weren't a good stories...
That he was having effects of the sacrifice meant to save loved ones.
That he was committing crimes.
That he had hurt the team, the pack.
That he hadn't been quite himself.
That he was possessed.
She hasn't brought the twins around Scott or his pack since this finding out. Since the twins' birth, it had just been them, and Jackson, who has watched over her and helped care for them after his sudden return from England and running into her on the road. Upon his return, Scott ordered—as the Alpha—for Jackson to remain at her side until the Nemeton, Oni, and Nogitsune were taken care of.
But that had been months ago.
Neither knew that the Nogitsune had now separated itself from its host.
But neither also knew that just days ago, the twins had been drawing on paper, lying on the kitchen floor, neither even having seen it themselves, but still, just...knowing:
"What are you drawing?" Jackson had asked, watching the two sprawled across the oversize paper on the floor.
"A monster," the tiny girl answered for him.
He had guessed that before she spoke it and it still bewildered Jackson that he was right. Most times he would be off, mistaking an elephant for a ball, and such.
Taken aback by her answer, Jackson couldn't help but ask "why?"
"Because."
The little boy moved over, scribbling a circle near the top of the page with black. He then colored over it with red.
"What's that?" Jackson had asked then.
As Jackson had been watching over them, the boy, Kai, had looked up at his sister, lips barely moving trying to mouth words. As if responding, his sister had looked to Jackson, her babyish face deadpan. "He says a bad moon's comin'."
Just then, they could hear their mother coming.
"There'll be lots of people sad," Hana continued. She turned back to her coloring, speaking as if nothing was wrong. "'Nd fire 'nd lightenin' 'nd boo-boo cuts. The people will want their mommies and daddies because their gonna be sad."
Their mother had walked in then. "What are you three talking about," she asked, already feeling the change in the air and growing suspicious.
Shocked, Jackson couldn't muster an answer.
At the hospital, the young mother's eyes shifted left and right. She was always watching her back these days—she had gotten to know a banshee, werewolves, a lizard-man, hunters of the supernatural, and know the only regular human of the group, the one she loved, had perhaps been added to the group, knowing he was possessed by something; Beacon Hills was a breeding ground for crazy. And after having the unfortunate experience of being one of the supernatural herself until her curse lifted, she knew all-too-well. Ever since she came back to this town, every day she was reminded why she decided to remain away, but she had help here for her children, so she couldn't exactly leave just yet. Not until she was sure there were no side effects of her curse that would trickle down to the twins.
She had left her son alone in the room fast asleep now. She didn't like to leave either of her two alone after seeing for herself the horrors that could lurk in the shadows of this small town. And it was quite frightening, ironically coming from someone who had been one for a period .
She squeezed passed a flurry of nurses as she rounded a corner and paused, a relieved grin forming on her face.
Jackson was leant against the wall in the waiting room and had his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. He had been waiting for her after coming from having to go to Derek's.
He looked up when she approached, eyes widening. "Oh, hey 'Basa," he spread his arms wide, still in his pockets, "you okay?"
She was breathing heavily and her hair slightly tasseled—the usual look of her worried for her two.
She must have looked startled again, she thought to herself accurately. She had been watching the two for several hours on her own already and was too worried to continue.
She pushed her glasses back up her nose, shuffled her small daughter further up her hip. "Yeah, yeah..." she drifted off. Her attention was clearly elsewhere.
Jackson stepped to her.
For the several years they've gotten to know each other since she moved to America and enrolled at the high school, Jackson was surprised how easily she could be read if paid enough attention. And she hated it whenever he told her that, though.
Jackson leaned his face closer. "You don't seem it, Tsubasa," he breathed.
Her big brown eyes looked up meeting his. Bags were prominent under them—one of the effects of becoming a child caretaker.
The small child in her arms began sucking her thumb, watching intently.
"C...c-can you go watch Kai? I want to switch now and get something to eat," she spoke. Like her daughter, she herself was growing hungry. But Hana just wanted a snack; her mother wanted a meal.
Jackson then pulled back. He gave a small smile, agreeing, before leaving a peck on the top Hana's hair and departing.
The two had agreed to take turns watching Tsubasa's son as they stayed at the hospital. It was now Jackson's, as he took the small girl into his arms from Tsubasa and turned to return to the hospital room. The mother turned to leave for the cafeteria, making a mental note to return soon.
And yes, Tsubasa's. Neither of the twins were related to Jackson Whittemore—he and Tsubasa were neither a couple or together and he was still very much in love with Lydia Martin—but they did belong to him in care-taking, unofficially. She—Tsubasa—had merely been the new girl with "problems" of her own at Beacon Hills High who got tangled into the commotion of Scott and his crew.
Almost exactly three months ago, Tsubasa Hanekawa returned to Beacon Hills despite her better judgment. She had been threatened in order to leave town but turned back under extreme circumstances: when she found out she was pregnant. The factor that finalized her decision to return were the dreams that reoccured almost every night—every night she would dream of a cat, whether is was seeing a tailless cat or if she was watching from the cat's perspective. A normal person would have just brushed the constant dreaming aside, thinking it simply coincidence, but not Tsubasa. They were the same dreams she'd have when she had been taken over by the demonic ghost cat-like creature as she slept, when her alter ego—the Bakeneko or Sawari Neko— terrorized the entire town and severely injuring civilians, including Scott, Stiles, and others she knew.
She remembers when Stiles ordered for her to leave town when the Nogitsune arose and to not look back. Sometimes she would hear his threatening voice in her dreams.
Hana and Kaito were the names she had given the twins at birth, their father not present. Hana and Kaito Hanekawa; Hana and Kaito Hanekawa-Stilinski it read on their birth certificates.
She had ran into Jackson on her return to Beacon Hills; they had been close friends before he left for England. And after finding out that he too was on his way back, his wolf instincts making him want to be close to his pack, she pulled back her baggy clothes revealing her condition. He hadn't taken it gracefully, to put it nicely. She didn't tell him who the father was until months later when she realized it would be unavoidable upon returning. Those back in town were the only ones she knew who could help if something with the twins went wrong.
And it all had gone well except for a few unexpected complications, but here, that was expected.
But before going back to the room, Hana reminded Jackson that she hadn't gotten her snack and ordered for him to go to the vending machine as her request for chips hadn't been answered.
"I want that one," Hana jabbed her finger against the glass, pointing to a bag of Ruffles.
In the cafeteria, Tsubasa rummaged in her pocket for the spare money she stored. After searching all her pockets, she found it in her bra.
"Jackson...?" Hana spoke.
"What is it, kiddo?" Jackson said. The way he answered sounded like he was annoyed. He realized that and apologized to the little girl.
Hana paused but she was to continue despite his tone. She always talked anyways. "Did Kai show you our pict-shur we drawled?"
Jackson glanced down at her, watching her face and hands press against the glass. Happiness radiated off her, proud. "No, kid. You talk for Kai, remember?" He pulled out his wallet. It was a know fact that Hana was the only one who seemed to know exactly what her brother would want to say. A kind of creepy, but seeming true fact about the siblings.
"Oh, yeah..." she muttered. Then, "Mommy didn't see it yet but we worked hard on it," she exclaimed proudly. "See? We just finished it." She held up the page she had been holding above her head for him to see.
Jackson's tongue clicked. He squatted to see. "It's really good." He had learned from Tsubasa to act if he had to in admiring what they did, no matter how sloppy or messy it was; she had told him that you can't bring a kid up with criticism and insults.
Jackson then took in the picture more. "What's this," he pointed to a stick figure-like drawing that had sharp teeth and angry slants for eyes.
"That's the monster," the tiny girl calmly answered.
"Monster? What do you know about monsters," he joked, standing, a cocky grin on his face. He inserted the money and punching in the code for the Ruffles chips.
"We do know 'bout monsters," Hana defended.
"Ok," Jackson gave in, "so did you two name the monster?"
"It's Daddy."
Jackson froze just as he was taking his change from the machine. "It's...it's who...?"
"Daddy," she answered as if everything in the world was right. Hana then began explaining the rest of the picture just like she had a month ago, speaking with a calm tone as if she was just telling her favorite color. "Kai says that there's gonna be a bad moon tonight, Jackson. See? That's this right here—the bad moon. It's dark 'cause it's bad. And the red here on Daddy is all the boo-boo cuts he's gonna get tonight."
There were other stick figures on the page as well, many with sad faces, some with tears, all with similar red crayon marks on them, some with no heads at all. Some figures lied on the ground while others stood; he noticed that there was a clump of them on one side of the page, as if huddled together, and that some hadn't been drawn with an arm or leg or both. Jackson didn't want to know what that all meant.
Jackson was frozen, shellshocked. He tried to sound calm. "W...where...where did you here that from...?" He was the only one of them who knew about the Nogitsune, apart from Scott and the pack of course.
Hana shrugged. "Kai told me."
"And where did he?"
"Dunno."
When Tsubasa was reaching for the money to pay for the food, her body froze, picking up some kind of tingle, like an intuition. Her guard immediately skyrocketed. She only had these hair-raising feelings when Scott, Stiles, or other pack members were nearby. It was even worse when the hair on her neck would literally raise—that was never good.
It was doing it now.
"Hana...where is the monster to go tonight?" Jackson asked, heart thumping. He had now sat her in a nearby chair as she began eating chips. The picture lay on the small table next to them.
"The hospibible," she mispronounced.
As if to emphasize, the lights flickered. Jackson's defense heightened.
Jackson swallowed. "And when is he supposed to get here?"
She didn't answer. She instead had turned her head away from him, cheeks still full of her snack.
"Hana?"
No answer.
"Hana?!" Jackson snapped his fingers.
It were moments until she finally responded: "Where's Kai?"
"He-he's in the room, we know that..." He tried smiling but failed. He then slowly sat up straight. "Why?"
Hana didn't respond. Even if she would have, there wasn't time. From over the top of the chair, Jackson watched as a nurse came running down the hall, shouting about stabbing. Two more came in right after him running at top speed. And exactly seconds later, a man who had been in pursuit, fell to his knees. But even before then, Jackson had been on his feet and scooping the small girl in his arms—the scent of blood was strong.
Because the bad moon is tonight, that's why.
Jackson watched in horror as the man who fell to the floor, a hole now in his chest and his blood leaving splatters on the walls.
A woman who had been trying to escape impalement in the back was the kick needed for Jackson to run. Behind, two tall figures dressed in black weld swords, slashing at any and every person in their way.
Jackson clutched Hana to his chest as he pushed his way through the crowd of fleeting people. He had to get back to Kai, he cursed himself.
Behind them, the figures killed a brave man attempting to fight back. Three more fell right after.
Jackson stumbled. He was thrown against the wall by the crowd and lost his footing. Another force caused him to fall to the floor and he cried out as shoes ran over his outstretched leg. Hana had gotten sandwiched between his side and the wall and she let out a loud squeak.
The crowd was thinning out as the killers neared. They slashed at any body their swords could touch. They were in the waiting room they were just in.
Jackson did his best to ignore the pain near his ankle as he scrambled to his feet. He glanced back and saw a man skid across the floor stop at his side. He man's eyes stared up at his, a nasty red stab in his chest and neck spewing blood. He was already dead.
Jackson ran.
The killers were in the hallway, gaining. Far behind the dark figures, a young man with red-rimmed eyes stood watching the chaos from behind, a content smirk on a familiar face that didn't belong to him.
Hana flailed in Jackson's arms.
They wouldn't make it back, he thought bitterly, feeling his ankle beginning to give out and people run past him.
Jackson growled, "stay...still, kid!"
All the while she repeated, "Kai! Kai! I want Kai! Need to get to Kai!"
His ankle was in pain. Very, very bad pain.
The forgotten picture of hers was abandoned back on the table fluttered to the floor and joined the flurry of papers.
A doctor pushed passed and Jackson watched him run into a nearby room. The door swung open and Jackson saw many, several other squished into the room.
It was worth a shot, right?
Jackson ran and caught the door with his foot.
The dark figures ran faster, getting closer. The smell of blood grew overwhelming and the screams of victims echoed. Bodies fell to the floor.
As he looked behind him once more, it was as if whoever was behind those masks looked straight at him and Hana. And in that moment, Jackson grew completely terrified. To him, it felt as if what was staring back at him was not at all human, or even living in any way. What he felt was like staring back at nothing, a complete black nothingness that sucks you in like a black hole, wanting to tear everything from you—your might, your will, your soul.
Jackson pushed the doctor inside. "Move!" he ordered those swished in the room. They locked the room door just as the Oni neared.